#Again I may go back and work on this more at some point

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Good Behaviour 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: after release, you try to get on the right track but your new boss isn’t much help. (ex-con reader)

Characters: Loki

Note: :)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your first day at work brings both excitement and anxiety. It's been a long time since you felt possibility ahead of you. You don't know that you ever really have. That's probably why you did what you did. No excuses. You made bad choices and didn't care who you hurt. 

You grab your new bag, in your brown blazer, a white satin blouse, and a black skirt, and head off. You feel like an imposter already. You get on the bus, standing as you avoid the musty seats, and figure you'll be sitting a bit too long that day. 

The office is building is just as it was before. Smaller than other business towers. The grey brick gives it an antique feel. Quaint, almost. You don't think you'll feel that way for long. 

As you enter, you recall the withering look from those green eyes. The timbre of judgment in his voice. The glint of mocking. You should be used to it by now, shouldn't you? 

You approach the office door and hesitate. What do you do? He gave you a time. You have no key. The door does not give off an essence of welcome. 

You knock and shift in your heels. You got the lowest ones you could find and they're still awful. You hear movement within. Mr. Laufeyson opens the door as you straighten your posture. 

"Good morning, sir," you greet. 

"You will fetch my coffee," he skips over any semblance of propriety. Even you know how to say hello. 

"Oh, yes sir," you reply, put off by his suddenness. 

"There is a cafe off the lobby. You must've passed it on your way in. Cortado." He demands. 

You take a breath. He could say please or thank you. You're used to a lack of manners but when you feel demeaned, you get a bit itchy. 

"Yes, sir, uh, I--" 

"You will be reimbursed. File a report," he turns away, "I would give a company card but... let's keep it all on file." 

He gets to his office door and you watch him in a silent simmer. You go to the empty desk and set down your bag. You dig out your wallet before tucking the rest underneath. 

You find your way down to the cafe, nestled between a law office and marketing consultancy space. You join the line and peer up at the menu. What did he say? C... something. Cortado, that's it right there. 

You step up for your turn. You pay for the drink and wait at the end of the counter. With your first task accomplished, you set off back to work. 

You enter the office. It's deathly silent. You can't help but look over your shoulder. Your hand balls to a fist instinctively. 

Before you can approach his door, it opens. 

"Thought I heard you," he struts out. "You may shut the door. And sit." 

You nod and offer him the cup. He points to the barren desk. You set it down and take your seat. He disappears. You frown. Was it some test? 

He emerges again, this time pushing a green leather chair. It looks much comfier than your own. He rolls it next to you and sits. You fidget and tug at the cuffs of the blazer. 

"Well, you can follow orders," he slithers. "Your attire is less... casual. The coffee is hot," he reaches for the cup and sips. "You will turn on the computer." 

You look under the desk for the tower. He scoffs and taps the laptop beside the monitor. You don't know how you missed that. 

"You will need to work outside the office at times. Now, I've a tracker installed and security, so there's no use in selling it," he warns. 

You seal your lips and nod. You won't show your irritation. Let him treat you like a criminal, at least he's paying you. 

You open the laptop and press the power button. It's very sleek and shiny. Brand new. 

"And the monitor," he directs and sips again. It's somewhat agitating to hear. 

You push the button along the bottom of the screen. He points to a post-it beside the touch pad. "Credentials." 

You type them in and hit enter. At least he's helping. Most of the courses you took were online and had zero support. You can figure things out on your own but you don't think he trusts you to do that. 

"I've had an employee ID set up. That is here," he points lower down on the post-it. "There is a folder here for you to review standard practices and expectations." 

He gestures to the smaller screen as you quietly observe. He sighs. 

"You have any questions?" 

"No, sir," you say. 

"And you understand?" 

"Yes, sir," you answer. I can read, tickles your tongue but you refuse to unleash it. 

"Wonderful, so let me take you through a few of our basic programs just so that you are set. There would be the email, then the task tracker, and finally, the most important, my calendar," he explains. 

"Yes, sir," you repeat. 

He wheels closer, his hand clasping onto the back of your chair. He keeps his cup in his other hand, extend one finger to motion to the screen. He helps you get into the inbox. 

"I recommend you review previous responses as well the templates provided in the Procedures folder." He explains. 

You bend and reach below the desk. You sift in your bag as he tuts, "whatever are you doing?" 

You sit back up with your notebook and a bic pen. You show him, "taking notes." 

He hums, "well, that is a good idea, isn't it?" 

He looks back to the screen as you flip the cover around the spirals. He's expecting you to fail, just like Dina, just like everyone else. You won't if you can help it. 

💼

You send another message to Mr. Laufeyson. For your first day, he insists on reviewing your emails. You let him know you have some waiting and go back to reviewing the folder of policy. It's not too difficult, only dry. You like that. 

How long did you live on edge, waiting for something to go wrong. It still could but there's no one actively working against you. Only your own bad habits. You just need to resist. You need to keep moving forward. 

'Send it'. His message is simple. No praise, no tips. Just approval. That's good enough for you. 

When lunch comes, you eat at your desk. You packed a plain peanut butter sandwich, a bottle of sparkling water, and small container of trail mix. Enough to tide you over. What you can spare. 

As you chew the crust, the door opens. Laufeyson sniffs and crosses his arms as he faces you. You swallow and wrap up the last bite. 

"Peanuts?" He says. 

"Oh, are you allergic?" You ask. 

"I prefer almond," he snips. "You're eating?" 

"Sir, you said twelve was my lunch." 

He squints then untangles his wrist to look at his watch, "so I did." 

You let out the heavy breath in your chest. You fold up the parchment around the sandwich and put it in your bag. Your stomach's doing those somersaults again. 

"You may finish," he says. 

"That's fine, sir, I was done," you assure him and grab a tissue to wipe your hands and mouth. You crumple it and put it in the bin. He looms close. 

"Well, if you aren't busy, another coffee would be in order." 

You look at him. You still have ten minutes. This isn't the yard, there's no guard counting down the minutes. You get up. 

"Yes, sir," you answer. 

"Oh, don't skip to the door," he says drolly. 

You tilt your head. His attitude drips from his posture as he checks his nails. You have to keep from scowling. You've been polite but he can't seem to show an ounce of decency. Well, he doesn't need to, he is your boss. 

"Just the coffee?" You ask. 

"Yes, dear, simple as," he assures flatly, as if you can't understand a coffee order. 

You bend down and grab your wallet. You put your hand on the desk to push yourself up and his shadow shifts. You glance over and his green eyes flick away from your skirt. You stand and tug it straight, worried it might have hitched up. 

"Excuse me," you sidle past him. 

"Do hurry," he bids. 

You're thankful to be away. You feel less suffocated by the guards with their night sticks, following you around as if you might make a run for the fence.  

It's busier at the cafe. You get to the counter and order. It's the same as before but even more crowded. Sweat speckles over your scalp as the walls seem to close in. 

You gulp for air as you get back to the lobby. You go up to the second floor and nearly burst through the office door. Laufeyson is by your desk, waiting. 

"Something the matter?" He muses. "I trust you didn't abscond with a coffee unpaid for?" 

You steady yourself and cross to him, offering the cup, "no, sir, it was only busy and I didn't want to be late." 

"Oh?" He arches a brow. "You seem rather worked up over it." 

"I'm not," you go around the desk and sit. 

"Ah yes, a different sort of cage now," he remarks, "no bars, just a wool blazer and a desk." 

You look at him, "I... no, it's not bad." 

"I suppose the comparison makes it tolerable," he snickers. 

"I guess," you agree and sign back into the laptop. 

"I've a client coming shortly. Please be sure to show them in with a smile." 

"I will, sir," you open the inbox. 

"You will?" 

"Yes," you repeat. 

"Let me see." 

"What?" You jerk back and pivot the chair toward him. 

"Smile for me." 

You stare at him then furrow your brow. He's taunting you. You know it. You can't let him get to you. 

You smile, or attempt to. 

"I know you might be out of practice but do try a little harder." He goads. 

You wipe your face and look down. You inhale. You smile again, this time resisting the tension tugging in your cheeks. He tilts his head. 

"Mm, you look almost like a lady," he sneers over the brim of his cup. 

You're starting to suspect he didn't hire you for good intentions. To be a helping hand. No, he's testing you. Trying to see how long it takes for you to break. Well, you won't. 

"Thank you, sir," you face the computer again. 

He sighs and struts away. The smile falls off your face and you open the newest email. You pluck away at it, falling back into a tempo between reading and typing. 

A knock comes at the door and you nearly slide out of the chair as you push it back. You get up and tap around on your heels. You brace yourself and remember. Smile. 

You turn the handle and pull the door open. "Hello, how are you today?" 

You sound stupid, like that churlish woman at the clothes shop. The man double takes and his lips slant, "I... the door says..." 

"Mr. Laufeyson is in his office," you explain.

The man nods and thoughtfully taps his chin, "ah, makes sense. He's hired a secretary." 

"Sir," you step back to let him in. 

"Aren't you polite?" He strolls in. "You might tell him Pine is here." 

"Yes, I will." 

You skirt around him and go to Laufeyson's door. You tap lightly. "Sir, your-- Mr. Pine is here." 

You wait at the door, trying to hear through it. It swings open and you teeter back. Pine steps forward, his hand outstretched. 

"Laufeyson," he shakes the others' hand. "Well, have you sorted it?" 

"You always bring me a challenge," Laufeyson waves him through then looks at you, "Pine, you take tea?" 

"As always." The man passes between you into the back office. 

"English breakfast," he points at you. "Quickly." 

[cyanbugremix]

✨Cyanbug's Redacted Headcanons Pt.2✨

(Once again, some of these may be used or were used in fics, but some are just there and I want to share them)

1. Morgan Kyne has near-sighted glasses (he can't see far away clearly), but he wears contacts when he's out and about, because when he was younger he got teased for needing glasses.

2. Sweetheart despises mint toothpaste because of the spice (Hot spice = good. Cold spice = bad). So they get fruity flavors instead.

3. If Doc and Hush are going to watch a movie together, Hush always suggests to watch How to Train Your Dragon (2010).

4. Speaking of movies, Huxley likes to watch FernGully: The Last Rainforest (1992) whenever he's sick.

5. Angel's side takes up the most space in the closet. They have their usual work clothes hanging up, and their casual clothes in a dresser, but most of the closet is filled with costumes + cosplays outfits and pieces that they've made or collected over the years.

6. And to add to that, Milo and Angel would totally help their friends and the pack make costumes for ren-faires. Sometimes when the two hang out they go to craft/fabric stores together. (Angel comes back with too many jewelry pieces and Milo comes home with yards and yards of different fabrics. They'll trade items if he needs some jewelry or if Angel needs a specific type of fabric).

7. I feel like Elliott's favorite zoo animal would be red pandas or spider monkeys. (Idky he just gives off those vibes).

8. Aggro adores green beans. Milo thinks it's one of the weirdest things a cat would want to eat. Sweetheart came over one time to Milo's apartment for dinner, and thought that Aggro was going for their chicken, but instead stole their green beans off the plate.

9. Darlin' could play only one actual song on the guitar for the longest time. They are/were musically gifted when it came to instruments. In middle school, they picked up the clarinet really fast, and then eventually switched to bass because Darlin' got bored (their parents made them promise that they'd stop switching instruments because buying/renting different ones costed a lot). Their parent's had gotten them an electric guitar for their birthday one year, but they only learned how to play one actual song on it (American Idiot by Green Day). Not because they didn't want to learn more songs, but because they found it more fun to make up random songs with friends when they hung out. They did stop for a few years when they moved to Dahlia and they didn't pick it up again until they were in their later teen/early adult years. They do know more songs now and have played for Sam.

10. Anton likes to hand carve small wooden animals for My Love. He mostly likes to make them tigers, elephants and bears, but at this point he has made an entire forest or zoo of different wooden animals around their home.

-

Part 1 of headcanons

[blu3haw4]

Happy Clexaweek everyone! I bring to you today a new idea born from... such a random post. An anon sent me a prompt for introvert college gamer Clarke and Lexa and I couldn't resist. I build up their characters through asks and I've been having a lot of fun with it, So

Here's... (already on AO3)

The Sex Life Of Gamer Girls

Summary: Clarke and Lexa are introvert college student who unknowingly attend the same school. They both love gaming and they meet online, they love chatting with each other, and there's lots of flirting online as well. After learning they attend the same school -and a little awkward silence- they make plans to meet up.

“You’re still in your underwear!” Octavia groans, closing the bathroom door forcefully behind her.

Lexa turns to frown at her, despite knowing that attitude is more than justified. She’s changed too many times to count, and they don’t really have that much time until they must be at the theater for sound check with the rest of the orchestra.

It’s just… that she has a few options. Three pairs of pants and three blouses give her room to try them all a few times in different combinations, and that’s not even adding the jackets, which may change the outfit completely-

“Why are you so worried, I though Sky was just a friend”

“She is! And it’s Clarke-”

“Not the point” Octavia rolls her eyes; she knows Clarke and Sky are the same person.

“That she’s my friend doesn’t mean I don’t want to impress her” Lexa deadpans.

“Okay, and you don’t think the master solo you’re playing tonight will do the trick?” Lexa just huffs at her and turns to examine her clothes again.

Octavia groans again.

“Just tell me what’s up” She rolls her eyes falling into her bed. They both know what’s up, they’ve been best friends for too long and roommates for what feels like even longer to not know what is up.

Still, neither would say it.

“You’ve never cared about your looks other than the prize and brand of your clothes-“

“That’s not true”

“Yes, it is”

“No it’s not”

“And understatement then”

“Overstatement”

“Whatever!” Octavia growls and Lexa can’t help the triumphant smirk “If she’s really just a friend go black dress-pants, black shirt and the grey vest. You look cool, you dick”

Lexa’s smirk falls, she utters a response about the word sounding like dyke just to keep Octavia talking as she turns back to her clothes with a frown.

She knows she looks cool with the vest, profession even, some might say. The colors, or rather shades, are fitting for the play and she knows it’s going to be comfortable on her seat. And she knows Clarke is just her friend, her online friend that she’s going to meet in real life for the very first time. After a year of playing together and recently after an awkward couple of months since they found out they go to the same school, but ultimately, just her friend,

But she might be more, closer than expected, they flirt a lot, or at least Lexa thinks they do, sometimes, not that she has ever asked or acknowledge it with her, she doesn’t want to or would admit it -right now-…

“What if…” She sighs through her mouth, sitting down on Octavia’s bed and avoiding eye contact with her “cool… is not… what I’m going for”

A second goes by, then another. She counts to three before gazing over to Octavia. She’s narrowing her eyes and it’s clear she’s trying to tame the smirk raising, Lexa can’t help but join her.

“If… you would rather, let’s say, look… hot. Go with the leather pants and the green knitted sweater with the… big crunch turtleneck” Octavia hums “Your figure does “Woop!” She says, making an hourglass silhouette with her hands and winking at her.

“I don’t have an hourglass figure” Lexa rolls her eyes at Octavia’s defiant laugh. She stands to get the sweater regardless. It wasn’t within her first options, but it should work, she can envision the outfit in her head and… yeah, she does look hot in that.

“The tight ones?”

“No, the others. With the belt. You could also do heels.”

“I’m not doing heels” Lexa rolls her eyes, putting on an undershirt before grabbing the sweater.

“Your ass pops with heels. Sexy as fuck”

Lexa pauses, with the turtleneck half over her face, considers for a second and turns to look at Octavia. She’s already smirking, Lexa huffs as she pulls the sweater the rest of the way down revealing her own smirk.

“I’m just saying, Sky is going to love it, she would have to be blind to not want to kiss you”

“It’s Clarke” Lexa corrects as she slides the pants up and bounces to get them past her hips. She ignores most of the sentence and refuses to acknowledge the blush rising to her cheeks.

“It’s the same person! We both know who I mean”

“But I need us to get used to calling her Clarke”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been calling her Sky since we met, and she asked me to please call her Clarke when we see each other”

“Okay… but why?”

“Because it’s her name!” Lexa rolls her eyes. And okay, that is maybe a bullshit answer, but she doesn’t have to explain everything to Octavia.

---

There’s no need to, really, when Octavia has heard it all already. From the first time Lexa realized they never addressed each other by any names, through teasing when she heard ‘princess’ coming out of Lexa’s mouth for the first time, all the way to a few days ago when Clarke asked to "please, for the love of god, don't you dare call me Sky.”

It was a funny thing, a few memories that Lexa held dearly, close to her heart.

The first time they talked they greeted each other with ‘hi there’s and ‘hello’s and continued to talk directly about the game, they told each other coordinates and gave each other directions, they were the only two playing so there wasn’t any real need to clarify who they were talking to.

It went like that the first few times they played together, just greeting each other with ‘hi’s and ‘hey there’s while Lexa started to realize there were only two ways she could think of to call her new duo and one of them was ‘Princess’.

The first time she called her Sky wasn’t even talking to her, Lexa was telling Octavia all about her new online friend and she went with it and it just kinda… stuck. She still didn’t bring it up to Clarke for another while, Clarke hadn’t brought it up either, but they’ve talked once about potentially playing in teams of four which would inevitably force them to talk about it.

“We were just talking the other day that it would be fun to play squad but” Lexa tasked, she didn’t know why she felt so nervous “I mean, I would have to ask her a name or something, right? If we’re going to be talking with more people, I mean… But her username is SkyPrincess… and I’m not about to call her Princess”

Octavia eyed her suspiciously, because of course she noticed Lexa’s nervousness, she could’ve brought it up directly to this Sky, but instead she asked her best friend for advice.

So, it was her job… to tease her.

"I mean if you wanted to” she said suggestively.

"Octavia! No" Lexa blushed, because… maybe she did. A little. Secretly.

"Okay, but keep it in mind" Octavia winked at her before tasking and turning more serious “Just ask her. I mean it’s not like GaHeda gives any indication of your name. It translates to Girl Commander”

“She could think of calling me Heda”

“Didn’t you already tell her what it means? She would be having the same argument we’re having with her friends”

Which might as well be the case, she didn’t ask, but she got a better grip on her emotions by the time the subject of playing squads was brought up again.

“Should we play with open mic?” She asked.

“I mean… sure, it would be   fun. Does it matter?”

“Uhm not really I just… I would need to know... how to call you, so we can communicate better.” Lexa paused. “Cause I’m not gonna call you Princess"

“What if I am an actual princess?”

“I... you aren’t- are you?” Lexa stutters, not that she believed so, but… could it-

Clarke snorts, unable to keep up her own lie “no… but I could've been” she joked, oh so pleased with herself.

Lexa snorted and rolled her eyes “Can't imagine a princess using Fornite’s open mic”

“Are you a princess? How would you know?”

“I could be. And that's the reason I wouldn't call you a princess”

“…You just stepped on your own lies” Clarke giggled out after a second.

“Whatever!” Lexa rolled her eyes again, she was smiling though, Clarke always made her laugh whether she was trying or not “Can I call you Sky or are you going to tell me your name?” She tried, smiling through it, no longer nervous.

“Will you tell me yours? Because I don't want to call you "Heda" now that I know it means commander... even though you are bossy” Clarke started laughing,

“You are bossy!” Lexa laughed with her.

They calmed into a few giggles “Okay, okay. I must admit I do like sky…” Clarke chewed her lip and considered for a second before adding “but uhm, my name is Clarke”

“Klark” Lexa tried out, and it made her smile.

“Mmh, sure, click the K however you'd like” She couldn’t help but murmur, trying to tame her smile.

“I'll stick with Sky then” It’s the tasked respond she gets, making her laugh a full belly laugh. She could almost imagine the eyeroll that accompanied it, if only she knew how Lexa looked.

“I should make you call me Heda just for that” Lexa huffed while she was still laughing.

“I'll call you Gabe if you don't tell me your name” She shot back, still giggling when she answered, not missing a beat.

“Noo! Iugh, that's awful” Lexa sounded truly disgusted “It's G-AH not G-ei-b. You're not trying to say g-ei-m. It's like g-ah-m-ah” she clarified, it was a different language after all.

Before Clarke could come up with a joke she added “aaand! My name is Lexa”

It paused Clarke. It’s pretty, it fits her in a way that she can’t fully understand. She tested it in her head for a second, mouthing it as her eyes roamed her screen, dreaming of putting a face to the name.

“Lex-ah” She smiled, unable to be serious for too long “... not lex-ei?”

“I’m disconnecting” Lexa sighed immediately through what Clarke simply knew to be a tamed smile.

“No wait!” She called out anyways, giving the seriousness Lexa was surely looking for… only for a little bit “Lex-aH is fine, Lex-aH is perfect, beautiful even"

She said without thinking, not realizing she put no filter in her words. She didn’t take it back, not embarrassed, no regrets. She hoped Lexa liked it… or at least didn’t hate it.

“You done?” Lexa asked in a dry tone that was just so… her. So used to be serious but hiding laughter behind it.

Clarke couldn’t help but smile knowing that she had got to know Lexa enough at that point to be able to tell those little details.

“If you forgive me, yeah” She tried with her brightest smile, knowing that even if Lexa couldn’t see it, she could surely hear it.

“Let's play then Sky”

“You're really not going to say my name again?”

“Noup” and there was laughter, slipping through a single word and making Clarke smile and giggle.

Clarke didn’t argue, she did laugh the first twenty times Lexa called her Sky, not caring that their different teammates couldn’t understand what was so funny.

Lexa continued to call her Sky every time after that day, and Clarke did end up calling Lexa Heda sometimes, mostly as a way to mock her bossy-ness, laughing at her -and maybe flirting a little- after Lexa described exactly what she needed to do.

Lexa got her turn as well, when Clarke was feeling serious and she took it upon herself to boss her around about weapon load-out and heals and locations, she would just throw in a “yess, princess!” not only making her blush but immediately disarming her.

It was annoying that she liked it so much.

Annoying that she liked Sky just as much, because no one else called her that, it was their thing, Lexa’s names only for her. There was always a specific tone that came with it as well, a tone to shifted and morphed through the months, when there used to be a teasing tilt now there was a softness to it, an affectionate tilt to the word, maybe a flirtatious one as well… or maybe Clarke was projecting.

There have been other names recently, proposedly thrown in there to test the waters on what exactly their relationship was about. It was a constant state of doubt, of overthinking and questioning if what she was doing was okay, if Lexa liked it or was just been polite, of whether she was actually clueless, and Clarke wouldn’t -couldn’t- blame her, she didn’t know what exactly she was doing either.

She couldn’t say that it had started recently, but it definitely felt like there had been a pause when they found out they went to the same school, and then they were back to it even stronger after the holidays.

It was a little over a year since the first time they played together when they talked about it for real. They both knew the other was a college student, but they didn’t know much else about it. They hadn’t really talked about it in depth, just the classic ‘oh I need to study for a class’ or ‘I have this group assignment’ and then they were back to talking about the game.

The only reason Lexa started asking more questions that time was because Clarke had joined the game three hours later than they had agreed, she was three hours late because a group meeting for a class she didn’t even like had run that late because everyone was knee on arguing with each other and they couldn’t agree on anything. Clarke was so tired and so pissed, Raven was out at a party with Nyilah and Echo had a terrible headache and Clarke just needed to complain about it to someone.

That night was the first time she shared about her career choice -by complaining about the classes that didn’t fit with it anymore- how she had only truly realized what she wanted mid semester and now she was stressing with a pair of classes that she didn’t like or care for, and it felt good to share with Lexa this new part of herself one she was really and recently excited about.

In turn, Lexa shared a little about her life as well, she told Clarke about the classes she was learning were not what she wanted, those subjects she learned she only liked as extracurriculars, she told her about her extracurriculars, and that it was very likely that anytime she said she couldn’t make it after class it was probably due to them, much more probable than her needing to study.

They talked about the different courses their schools offered and were surprised to realized they offered pretty much the same ones, they got suspicious when Lexa mentioned a science fair she attended a few day prior and Clarke remembered there had been one at her school as well. Neither of them really wanted to ask because they were afraid to be right; Clarke had never pondered the idea of actually meeting Lexa in real life, but suddenly it became all too possible when Lexa cleared her throat and reluctantly asked.

“Hey uhm… Clarke?” and that was already a change, Lexa calling her by her name always meant serious, though until this point nothing had ever been truly serious “are you… attending *Polaris University*?”

“I… am. Are you as well?”

“…Yeah”

They were in the middle of a game, so it wasn’t hard to shift subject and ignore the awkwardness, one that was born from… very confusing feelings. Because they both knew that if this was anyone else, they would close the game and block the person to never have to worry about it again, instead, because they liked each other so much they were caught in this limbo of what the fuck to do.

When they ended second place in their game and the options’ screen loaded in, Lexa asked “Ready up?”

“Yep, let’s go” Clarke answered, and they played for another hour before saying goodnight like any other time, only difference been not asking when they would get on again.

It was around the end of November so it wasn’t hard to use Thanksgiving as a self-told excuse to not play much -Lexa lying more than Clarke about not having the time, she retired back to other, offline, games since she wasn’t spending it with her family, and there's only so much time you can spend talking with your best friend when only one of you has a social life and you live together-

After Thanksgiving is finals time so it’s the same thing, neither ask the other to play and they don’t really chat over discord, but it still feels like they are giving out excuses even when they’re only in their heads. It’s around this time that Clarke finally tells her roommate and college best friend, Raven, about Lexa. Over the past year Raven has heard her name a few times, she’s never bother asking more though since Clarke also played with other people including her childhood best friends.

Clarke has no filter that day, she sits on Raven’s bed and asks for her help on her dilemma, she explains how she met Lexa and how great she is and how much she likes playing with her and how good it felt to tell her about her life and feel like real friends -she didn’t mentioned the flirting- but how that had led to finding out they were in the same school which then led to the awkward thanksgiving break that made Clarke realize she didn’t want to lose her but didn’t know how to move forward. Ultimately the answer was giving it time and Raven promised not to tease her about it… in front of their roommates.

Finals roll out and then winter break and they finally calm down a bit, Lexa has been playing on her own since Clarke hasn’t even started the launcher, but then a day before Christmas she gets on.

They’re both in their hometowns, it’s late at night for both and it’s easy to send a group request and play together, blaming their quietness on tiredness and just chilling in every game. Just like that, they start playing regularly again, Lexa confesses to being practically free all break long and Clarke jokes -and means it- that she’s going to use her as an excuse to get aways from too much family time.

They go back to school, and they go a few weeks playing without mentioning it, each pondering in their heads the chances of running into each other, of whether they would recognize the other and whether they would want that to happen.

It feels like they get to the same conclusion at the same time when they start tiptoeing around the subject. The flirting turns ON for real, silly still because that's who they are but oh so clearly there. It’s fun, and it’s easy to forget they were troubled by about a month with this when now it felt so easy.

Clarke starts very consciously saying "sorry, babe" and "babe, c'mon" during fights, Lexa leans much more into calling Clarke Princess, either while watching her clutch a 1v2, or when she's found her favorite gun and she’s bringing it over to her - Clarke misses snipers this season but will settle for the hunting rifle recently added- Lexa also sneaks a little "goodnight princess" every so often, that makes it impossible for Clarke to sleep those night, blushing and smiling like a fool while trying not to imagine other scenarios where Lexa could call her that.

The nagging feeling that it can all fall apart if she pushed too far is still there, and then Lexa brings up meeting up, very casually mentioning she’s going to be playing with the orchestra -because yes, she plays the piano- and she would like if Clarke could assists “I think you could like it, it’s quiet an epic set”

---

The doubts and questioning and overthinking only increased after they had agreed to meet up. And they are right there as Clarke changes outfits so many times, not deciding on color palette or style, and what she’s supposed to do for her make up, and her hair-

She tried to do all this freaking out during the week, preparing beforehand was a smart move, even though she wasn’t supposed to be stressing; Lexa was her friend… had to be, at least until they met for real and she figured out her feelings.

Hiding away from Raven … wasn’t her smarted decision. She Is, after all the only person who knows about Lexa, or how Clarke feels about her. She already knew her so well - sharing a dorm and a room together for a year and a half does that- of course she clocks Clarke’s internal struggle the minute she walks into their room, dressed and ready to be Clarke’s plus-one, and finds her in front of the mirror with three different tops on her hands, and none of them on her.

“Girl, really?”

Clarke turns straddled, wide eyes pressing the tops close to her body and blinks.

Raven closes her eyes and sighs, if she wants to laugh, she covers it perfectly, she drops her bags and massages her forehead before getting to work.

“Did you pick the bottoms?”

“Uhm-”

“Cargos, then, you look good, you’ll feel comfortable and they’re easy to match” Raven grabs one of the tops from her hands and throws it back to her bed “That one doesn’t. Are you going light or dark?”

“I… was thinking light” she swallows, she’s not intimidated… at all, it’s just that Raven is weirdly this serious and she’s unsure how to react. That’s all.

“Light blue one, I love those. These two don’t match though” Raven says as she grabs the remaining two tops and throws them as well. She finds Clarke’s cargos and throws them at her “Put them on” She says as she starts rummaging through Clarke’s closet.

“Ohhh look at you! you’re perfect” Raven gasps after a second “Listen I know you love cleavage” she says turning to face Clarke “but you don’t own this top for no reason” she smirks showing her a knitted, sleeveless crop-top color cream.

She doesn’t wait for an answer before she’s throwing it at her, she throws herself to her bed with a satisfied sigh and lets Clarke get dressed.

“I think you know you need to go with the combat boots, and for coats, just pick any of the high-end long-ass ones, I know you own a bunch but just don’t take forever. Actually, just go with the cappuccino one”

Clarke simply nods, going over her large selection of coats in her head as she finished dressing, confirming that, yeah, the cappuccino one is perfect. She’s a bit surprised at how… honest Raven’s help seems to be, she know Raven is a good friend and cares about her, it’s just that her help is usually accompanied by-

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about this- Scratch that I know why” Raven interrupts her thoughts, turning to her with a smirk.

Oh, there it comes.

The teasing.

“Obviously you’re like in love with this girl or something-

“I’m not!”

“-but I mean come on, you already know each other, she already likes you!”

“I’m not worried”

“And I’m not a genius, Griffin don’t lie to me!” She rolls her eyes “if you weren’t worried you wouldn’t have told me about her when you found out she was studying here” she raises her eyebrows, giving her time to say something even when they both know she won’t.

“You say she’s your friend, and you think she’s inviting you to this thing as a friend… but you don’t know if you want her to be more -Your words, not mine-”

“I know! Can you just… forget it, just today. Just be there, don’t mention it” Clarke pouts and then spins in place showing off her outfit to Raven.

“Hot” Raven nods and winks, and as Clarke walks to her closet to grab her coat and boots Raven sighs, long and tired “Fiiine, but only because I love you. And only today, I want all the details tomorrow. No gatekeeping!”

“Some gatekeeping”

“Only if you get lucky. I’ll forgive you wanting to keep the details of some gross love making”

“Raven!” Clarke scowls, blushing.

“Do we have a deal?”

“Ugh!” Clarke simply groans and walks out with her purse and phone.

It’s nerve wrecking, to stand backstage knowing Sk-Clarke!- is out there and will be able to tell who Lexa is immediately. It’s a little ridiculous that she’s not nervous about playing but about Octavia getting recognized by Clarke while popping her head out of the curtain to try and see if she finds her.

“How do you not know how she looks?” Octavia huffs as she closes the curtains for a third time.

“I told you, she just said she’s blonde” Lexa shrugs, she doesn’t want to stress out -more than she already is- trying to find Clarke in the audience, the chances of recognizing her were practically zero, she had no description, no picture, nothing.

“How will you meet up then?”

“I told her I play the piano, and that we can meet after at the… one of the exits, I don’t remember now” Lexa shook her head. Octavia rolled her eyes painfully and returned to her position between the curtains trying to see if she could spot Clarke.

She gets scowled at by their maestro and sent to her seat behind her drums a minute later and Lexa follows suit sitting behind the piano. She tries to focus on the sheets of music written in front of her, but her head is already running over any possible place Clarke could be sitting and how she might look from there.

‘So much for not stressing’ She scowls at herself, but it doesn’t stop her from spotting every blonde in the audience as soon as the curtains open. She closes her eyes a minute later as the greeting applauses quiet down and she takes a deep breath, focusing, tuning everything else out.

The music’s start with the piano and Clarke can’t comprehend how incredible Lexa looks leading the group. Raven asks which one is Lexa as soon as the curtains open and Clarke has to pause for a second, realizing she’s going to need a minute -or an hour- to process seen Lexa for the first time, so she lies, she tells Raven she doesn’t know. She’s honest when she tells her that they’ve never shared any social media or pictures of each other, but the reality is that there’s only one piano, and the pianist fits the description perfectly.

Lexa looks… majestic. The sweater is very feminine, the crunch turtleneck softens her broad shoulder, the light behind her accentuates her waist, as does the thick belt attached to the high wait of her pants that have no right making her legs look that good while sitting down. Clarke can’t tell from this far, but she wonders if the color of the blouse is a choice to accentuate that of her eyes. Her hair is tied back at the top by a few braids and the rest falls like a cascade over her back, her posture is pristine and relaxed, she moves with the music naturally and graciously.

Clarke can’t imagine how she’s supposed to stay friends with this girl.

The set ends with an explosive assembly, Lexa meets eyes with Octavia, both sighing heavily out before smiling brightly. As usual the standing ovation and exit of the stage is a blur, Lexa find Octavia out of the shared changing room, and they hug the rest of the adrenaline out.

And while still high on that feeling, on that excitement that is amplified by the thought of meeting Clarke, her stomach still crunches when she spots a blonde girl walking towards her with purpose at their agree exit. She’s looking at her, a smile growing bigger with each step, because of course she already knew who Lexa was, she had to have known from the moment the curtains opened and must’ve been watching her the entire set.

Lexa is breathless before Clarke can even reach her, because not even all the excitement in her body can make her heart cartwheel the way seen Clarke for the first time does.

Clarke is… gorgeous, she looks like a model striding towards her, the cappuccino coat gives her an air of confidence that matches her steps, the cargo jeans frame her hips perfectly, giving a teas of her tummy before the crop-top covers her from and reveals the slightest bit of cleavage. Her hair is loose, and her waves bounce with her steps. She’s wearing eyeliner, a simple strip of black line makes the blue of her eyes shine, or maybe that’s just the excitement.

When she’s finally withing reach, Clarke goes in for a hug; she lifts her arms before the distance is gone, shrugging a little as a warning to Lexa, barely missteps, cautions for only a fraction of a second, before she goes fully into it, deciding that it’s fine, because they’re friends, they have been for over a year now and it might be the first time they see each other in person, but this is how Clarke greets her friends, and she won’t apologize unless Lexa complains.

She doesn’t, she actually likes it, so much that it feels unreal. Lexa’s not a hugger, she only ever hugs Octavia but other than that she keeps physical contact to a minimum, and yet, she melts into the feeling of Clarke’s body fitting into hers. Clarke pulls her close and Lexa wraps her arms around her waist over the coat, she closes her eyes against Clarke’s shoulder and squeezes back when Clarke pulls her even tighter against her and sighs into her neck.

It's definitely a little too long before they pull apart and Lexa spares a thought to Octavia before she’s looking at Clarke again and all thoughts evaporate.

“Hey there!” Clarke breathes out as her eyes jump all over Lexa’s face, trying to take it all in at the same time.

They haven’t let go at all when Lexa laughs a little nervous “Hi”

---

It takes them both right back to the first few times playing together, all the excitement and nervousness to get to hang out again, the comfort of having fun with someone new, the insecurity of sounding cool that faded through time as they learned to be goofy with each other.

The very first time they played together was in the early morning of November first, Lexa had dropped Octavia off at the custom party of one of their soccer teammates before getting back home to play fornite -with her spookiest skins- She decided to play duos a few hours in and opened her microphone.

Meanwhile, Clarke came back from a frat party she went to with her friends -who all remained there or migrated to other parties- a little tipsy and knee on continuing to have fun she immediately opens the voice chat and starts playing duos.

Lexa is the first person to join the voice chat since Clarke started.

Clarke is the first match since Lexa opened her microphone.

They greet each other and Clarke is very excited to talk to someone, Lexa isn’t sure if she finds it endearing yet, but she plays along. At first all they say are technical stuff; where the other likes to land, with what strategies the other plays, which are you chosen weapons and such, better at shooting or building and such.

They communicate well during fights, and they actually win their first game. From then Lexa gets more friendly, she asks more specific questions about the game and preference whiting it, she laughs and tags along to Clarke’s idea of switching skins anytime they lose, Clarke asks her which are her favorite and they spend an entire game discussing old ones and new ones, Lexa can’t believe she agrees to put on the Christmas ones nor can she understand how Clarke convinced her to ‘go festive’ to ‘call for the Christmas spirit’

They learn through games and games what better strategies fit them better, Lexa is less coy -and maybe a little flirty, Clarke has a pretty voice- when admitting to feeling like a pro at building and editing them. In turn, Clarke’s confidence turns up as well going over the top to prove that her aim is unmatched.

They win countless games, and they go on for hours until the sun rises and they’re both shocked that they’ve been up so long. Joking and laughing they promise to get on another time and try playing ranked since “Clearly we’ve found ourselves the wining duo”. They disconnect with quiet goodbyes and go to sleep with untamed smiles.

For months to come they play together often, they get each other’s discords to be able to invite each other more often and the audio is often better as well.  They keep playing for months and months, through winter, spring and summer all the way back to fall.

---

Octavia, who has known about Clarke all along, and is casually standing behind Lexa, can’t help but think “Friends’ my ass” as she tries not to react at Lexa’s very unusual response to a hug. She stands there for even longer than she expects after they part from the hug and just hold each other.

Eventually they seem to remember they’re not the only people in the world and Lexa turns to look at her, finally -and maybe reluctantly- letting go of Clarke.

“Uhm, Sk-Clarke” Lexa slips for a second and Clarke’s eyes widen even while her smile seem to grow “This is Octavia, my best friend” she finishes, turning to Octavia with a blush raising from her chest up to her cheeks.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you… and heard you a lot” Octavia winks as she extends a hand.

“Sorry about that” Clarke breath a laugh while Lexa frowns at her. Before they can fall into some awkward argument or silence Clarke continues “Well, I would love to introduce you to my roommate, who so kindly joined me” she give Lexa a look, a smirk is there and Lexa’s eyes shine with hers “But she has abandoned me as soon as we stepped out”

“Oh no, were we that bad?” Lexa jokes, still smiling, unable to stop. She can’t explain it and doesn’t want to think about how Clarke’s mare presence makes her so happy.

“Oh no, god, you guys were amazing! It was honestly so enchanting, it felt magical”

“Thank you” Lexa and Octavia answered automatically, they could both hear the genuine tilt of happiness in Lexa’s voice though.

“Raven’s probably off trying to find a party” Clarke added after a beat of smiling at Lexa.

She just couldn’t help it, Lexa was… so pretty. Beautiful, and hot and just- so attractive, but specifically pretty, her gaze had a softness that complimented the sharp angles of her jaw, and her smile? The way her eyes lit up with it and her nose seemed to crunch a bit as if she was used to taming it down, she was just so pretty, and Clarke didn’t even want to pretend. She was sure that after a few more conversations she would say it to her, just like she told her she liked listening to her voice after only a few times playing together.

“I’m uhm-” Lexa turned only for a second to look at Octavia “I’m pretty sure some of the boys are from a frat house, they surely have a party or something planned”

Lexa finds herself saying, unsure why and not really bothered by the implication that she would go to something like that. She doesn’t get the chance to clarify anything or for Clarke to ask her because Raven joins them, all cheerful jumping into Clarke’s back and shouting a ‘hey-yoo’ as a greeting.

Lexa’s eyebrows raise up to her hairline, her smile is too bright to fully fall, but there’s definitely a different feeling in her gut now.

“I landed us an invite to the celebration with the musicians! I already texted the girls. Did you find your chick?”

And now she is blushing -she’s not sure which is responsible, the implication that ‘your chick’ is more, is different, not necessarily a friend or that ‘your chick’ is said with familiarity, like Clarke talks about her like she’s… hers.

“Raven!” Clarke hisses, blushing as she pushes her off her “Don’t jump on me” she says trying to cover up for the phrasing. Because she’s not ready to process any part of that sentence, even when it’s only two words “Be nice This is Lexa, and her best friend Octavia. This is my roommate Raven”

“I’ve been denigrated to ‘roommate’!? You’re repaying me with extra shots tonight. Hi! It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you. Great play back there, by the way, gave me chills, for real!”

Clarke sighs, she tries her best at not closing her eyes -or rolling them- at Raven’s extra extrovert greeting. Lexa remains still, smile frozen and eyebrows still raised. She looks like a deer caught in headlights.

Clarke moves to try and say something, salvage the situation, but it seems to be all Lexa needs to recover.

“Hi. All good thing I hope and… thanks, we’ve been practicing a lot, it was very exciting. The crowd’s reaction was great” she says fluidly. Strongly, confident.

Clarke swallows, she sounds different than she’s even heard her, natural but also monotone like she’s used to it, like she knows how to handle it, she sounds… very sexy. And her smile is still there, her eyes don’t shine as much until she glances at her briefly, and maybe Clarke is protecting, but she smiles again, even if Lexa isn’t looking at her anymore.

Lexa sees her smile in the corner of her eye as Octavia greets Raven and they start talking about the party, sure that she’s no longer needed in the conversation she turns back to Clarke. She’s smiling, wide like she can’t be bothered to tone it down and it makes Lexa feel validated, because she’s so happy, she’s so excited to get to be with Clarke in person and she’s still too stunned to know what to do with herself.

“Y’know…” Clake stars, needing to stop the racing thought in her head “when you told me you played the piano, I didn’t imagine you would pull a solo like that, it was truly incredible”

“Thanks…” Lexa blushes, it’s not that she doesn’t know she’s amazing in her solo, it’s just that Clarke… noticed- “I mean you’ve seen my skill building and editing…” She adds, smirking a little, leaning closer “Did you really think I don’t explode this talent”

She doesn’t mean to flirt -or so she tells herself- but the implication of how far her talent extended wasn’t lost to her once the sentence left her mouth, and she won’t bother with clarifications.

Before they can gather their thoughts, their friends tell them to start moving. There’s a slight pause after Clarke asks where they’re going, and Raven rolls her eyes “Obviously to the party I just mentioned”

Octavia looks at Lexa and she doesn’t know what to say or do so, she looks at Clarke instead, who’s already looking at her with a questioning gaze. She doesn’t look hopeful nor disappointed, a little worried maybe but Lexa doesn’t even question it when the next sentence out of her mouth is “Sure, let’s go”

Her hopes of not making it a big deal go out the window when Octavia jumps on her back, letting out a strangled “Really?” before she’s squeezing her tight and vibrating with excitement.

“Okay, people this is not a drill! Let’s get going before she changes her mind!” Octavia says as soon as she jumps off her, she grabs her hand in the process and pulls at her while Lexa blushes furiously.

Raven turns to Clarke with raised eyebrows and all Clarke can do is shake her head with a shrug. She laughs when Raven grabs her hand with a shrug of her own and pulls at her in a similar manner.

She doesn’t let her anxiety take over, it starts pushing her to wonder if Lexa doesn’t actually want to go to this party, instead, Clarke takes a deep breath and waits until she’s alone with Lexa again -it happens fairly quickly, they catch up and Raven replaces her with Octavia, before they resume their own conversation.

“I take it frat parties aren’t your usual?” She asks even while Lexa still isn’t looking at her, she does smile at the question though.

“Not really” Lexa concedes and braves a look at Clarke “Parties in general are not… my usual- but hey! Neither is making friends online and yet here we are” She smiles bright, renew excitement over the topic.

Clarke smiles with her, likes the way Lexa shrugs and lifts a conspiratory eyebrow, still she can’t help but worry “We don’t…” she swallows “We don’t have to go, if you don’t want to- we can do something else or… go somewhere else” it’s Clarke’s time to shrug.

Lexa’s smile softens, and she has to look away from Clarke because really, quit it with the blushing! “It’s fine, really” she reassures “It’s not that I’m not a fan of parties per se” she smirks just thinking about it “I just… don’t particularly like people” she grimaces but her smile is too bright for it to look genuine.

Clarke snorts, like she doesn’t mean to laugh but can’t help it “You and me both” she hushes leaning closer as they giggle “I’ve heard… that alcohol helps a lot with it though” she says after a bit and it’s Lexa’s turn to snort.

“Oh I know” she nods her head, leaning into Clarke as well, because she can, and it feels good and Clarke isn’t complaining “I do know it tends to... become a problem later on as well”

“Touché” Clarke nods “Good thing we can leave whenever we want” she winks, reassuringly, she thinks, she wants Lexa to know that she can be honest anytime she’s not comfortable. And so what if it’s also a little flirty? It’s harmless.

They make good use of that statement in the end.

When they arrive at the party, the frat house is packed, there isn’t a line yet, but a couple of boys are out talking, planning a head of that moment. One of them is the guy Raven talked to, he shamelessly flirts with her and looks shocked to realize Octavia and Lexa are coming with her, he invites them in and promises to find Raven later.

All throughout Lexa eyes Clarke with a slight frown, she just keeps shrugging and shaking her head lightly, it’s a normal thing, typical Raven behavior.

Octavia grabs Lexa’s arm inside and they make it to the bar. Her best friend is giddy she gladly takes two shots from Raven, Lexa doesn’t even look at Clarke as she dedicates the first of whatever is in the tiny plastic cup to Octavia.

Lexa turns to Clarke when Raven places a second round and Clarke smiles, she leans in to be heard over the music and tells Lexa that she’ll take hers if she doesn’t want it. Lexa in turn raises a challenging eyebrow clinks it with Raven’s before taking it.

Octavia hugs her again once their grimaces are gone and Raven offers to pour them a mixed drink to last them a while, Clarke wants vodka and Octavia asks for rum for her and Lexa, she winks at her discreetly and then hugs her again.

“You’re not even drunk, stop being so clingy”

“I’m just excited that you’re here!”

“And I’m excited that you’re both here!” Raven cheers downing her drink quickly and pouring another “Which one of you is going to introduce me to the rest of the music bros?”

Clarke tries not to laugh as Lexa turns to her alarmed, she shrugs just for the sake of it and then Octavia is speaking, Clarke can’t hear it very well over the music, but she assumes she’s offering because a minute later they’re both gone.

The butterflies come swinging back to her stomach and a smile rises without her consent when Lexa turns to her again.

“Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?” Lexa leans in, a smile of her own adorning her face.

It takes them a minute to move around the packed house and then some to find a pocket of air with less noise. They end up sitting in the nook of a window by the corner of the huge lounge room, they’re farther from the dance floor than they were in the kitchen, and they both sigh a sigh of relief followed by giggles as they lean back.

They sip their drinks, suddenly a little awkward, not sure how to start a conversation and afraid to keep on just looking at each other. Clarke is the brave one at first, asking about Lexa’s drink choice and how Octavia answered for her.

“I’m don’t usually drink so… I tend to not care what I am drinking” Lexa shrugs, she takes another sip and braves a look at Clarke “Is Vodka your usual?”

“Yeah” Clarke smiles “It’s… tasteless enough, I think it makes it easier to mix. I’ve learned to drink tequila in mixed drinks with Raven, though, and there’s just… nothing like it”

“In a good way?”

“Yeah, it’s so much better. Specially with sweet drinks… but it’s more expensive and it’s quick to give a hangover”

Lexa laughs “Oh yeah, I’ve had my fair share of tequila hung overs”

It’s easy to move the conversation around, it feels nice to ask the questions they avoided before, those that felt too person for two friends that only talked about the game they were playing. Lexa shared about her friendship with Octavia going all the way back to sophomore year of high school, Clarke tells her how Raven quickly scaled from roommate to best friend and how her childhood friend met her the summer before, and they were so jealous.

They talk about all their classes and possible majors, Clarke just about figured out before break that she’s really interested in biochemistry, and she’s excited to see where it might lead her, Lexa joins in excitedly to talk about science since one of her many extracurricular is focused on chemical experimentation, she explains to Clarke that she has a lot of extracurriculars, always has had, from sports to chess, to science and music, all her passions have led her to a variety of classes, but she’s mostly find them boring or overly specific.

They talk a little bit about high school and how each of them moved around the bizarre social hierarchy of it, they maybe throw in a little hint about their dating game and maybe it’s a little flirty, maybe it’s a bit of a joke but so easily not.

Throughout their conversation Raven comes over a few times to check in on them and Octavia comes over to hug Lexa anytime she sees her, Lexa accidentally calls Clarke Sky a couple of times and it may become a little less intentional once she realizes Clarke blushes every time.

They’re constantly leaning on each other and talking closely, and giggling all the time.

They refill their drinks and ‘babe’ enters Clarke’s vocabulary full force, she ignores Raven’s looks from across the room and can’t help but blush any time she catches Octavia winking at Lexa, for her part Lexa downs her drinking faster than Clarke, too happy and too comfortable to care about any of it.

Their friends drag them into a game of beer-pong with shots -warm beer is gross and it’s not like most people here aren’t rich- appealing to their competitiveness to lure them. Octavia and Raven team up against them, swearing that they’re the sober ones and thus will win. Clarke and Lexa are content to stay glued to each other, leaning into the other as they wait for their friends to shoot, holding the other as they drink their shots and calling out sweet encouragements before every shot.

They end up winning against their friends, barely, and as celebration the crowd makes them down the remaining of their shots. They chose to grab some water next and return to their little nook. With liquid courage they get even more comfortable in each other’s personal space, they flirt a lot, smirking every other sentence and talking about anything that comes to mind.

Clarke calls Lexa Heda jokingly making her drop a few Princess’ in between, they’re not blushing as much anymore, just enjoying it and leaning into it, so much that they don’t mind Octavia’s side eyes and Raven’s raised eyebrows, they just keep trying to find ways to make the other call them pretty names.

They start talking about fornite at some point, they recall Winterfest and how they sped through levels to get every reward possible, they agreed, now that it was over, that it was kinda… ‘meh’, the year before had been better and it mostly had to do with the addition of the OG maps and all the hype about that taking away the attention of the holidays.

“The collaborations were insane though!” Lexa rolled her head back and the sideways to rest on Clarke’s shoulder.

“Right?!” Clarke turns to her even when she knows she won’t be able to see her, it’s nice to have their faces so close together “Like what do you mean Snoop Dog, The Shack and Marya fucking Carey all have matching Santa skins?”

They both break into laughs and Lexa leans heavily into her. They sigh in unison with smiles on their faces, content to watch the party for a minute- that is until a group of frat boys not too far from them start… barking?

Lexa quickly lifts her head off Clarke’s shoulder and turns to frown at her, Clarke shrugs with a shake of her head and it’s not long until they start laughing again. They giggle the remnants of their cringe out while looking at each other and then Clarke smirks a mischievous little smirk.

Lexa tilts her head, and Clarke does the same in the direction of the exit, she doesn’t take her eyes off Lexa and her smirk grows when Lexa imitates her, they continued tilting their heads and nodding them until they can’t keep from laughing anymore.

The frat boys are still barking when they stand up and start looking for their friends, they tell them they’re heading out and make a quick job of leaving, they both take deep breaths a block down the house and sigh out giggles.

“Where should we go?” Lexa asks, and she doesn’t care that she still hasn’t let go of Clarke’s hand.

“Don’t call me crazy-” Clarke uses their joined hands to pull Lexa closer and whisper conspiratorially “but… we could… go… play”

“Oh, this is why we get along!” Lexa throws her head back and Clarke reigns her back in when she loses her balance for a second.

“Let’s go then Heda”

“Lead the way Princess”

They agree to go to Clarke’s place first, Octavia will be staying with a friend so they can have the room to themselves, thus they’re going to pick up Clarke’s laptop and go. The walk is full of talking and laughing and flirting, it’s silly, so unserious but so… them.

“This’ me” Clarke nods to their right as they approach the dorms wing of campus.

“Really?” Lexa huffs “I’m right over there!” she points to their left, two buildings down from Clarke’s.

“For real? That is so crazy!” they laugh and decide to ignore that before today -okay maybe form a month ago- that information would’ve been scary as fuck.

They enter Clarke’s dorm quietly, not remembering that her roommates were all at the party they just left, Clarke hesitates before letting Lexa into her room, but it’s hard to think when she turns her head and Lexa is right there, practically glued to her and so giddy.

They’re a little drunk, so Clarke is stumbling a little, throwing her coat over her bed and trying to get her laptop, she’s also trying to make sure her -half- of the room is presentable or close enough to Raven's to pretend. And Lexa is all excited for apparently no reason other than being in Clarke's room, and the flirting hasn’t stopped and it’s making them both a little dizzier.

So when Clarke stands up and Lexa is standing too close, neither of them move.

They're breathing unevenly and they stare at each other for a long moment, trying to decipher what's going on, looking for the answer in each other’s eyes.

Lexa is all too happy to stay right where she is, she knows in a few minutes or less she’s going to want to touch Clarke in some way, grab her hand or her wait, kiss her or worse, lean her forehead to hers, but she can’t be bothered right now, because Clarke is really pretty and she’s really happy that she was brave enough to invite Clarke to her orchestra, because she’s really happy to be there with her.

Clarke is a bit more antsy; she’s looking up because Lexa us wearing a bit of heel, and she was already a bit taller than her and her lips are right. There. So Clarke has enough. She leans up and touches her lips to Lexa’s softly. She doesn’t mean to capture her lower lip in hers, she’s just a little clumsy, at the moment, and Lexa-

Lexa is kissing her back.

Lexa’s hands move quickly to hold her -uncovered- waist, and sighs into Clarke’s mouth at the contact, she doesn’t question anything, doesn’t even think about it when she stars leaning into her, chasing her lips and that tongue that ever so softly teases her bottom lip.

Clarke sneaks a hand up to Lexa’s jaw and holds onto her -very… vert strong- bicep with the other, she takes half a step back and her ass meets the side of her bed, she has to sort of sit on it when Lexa keeps leaning because the bed is a little lofted for storage. She doesn’t move her hands from Lexa, which makes it so she can feel her bicep flexing when Lexa takes a larger step closer and pulls at her waist lifting her so she’s sitting fully on the bed.

The kiss is teasing and tight, but the moment Lexa wiggles her way between Clarke’s legs, parting them just enough to fit and pull her close, the kiss turns deep, Clarke doesn’t think twice when the new angle and closeness allows her to comfortably slide her arm around Lexa’s neck and swipe her tongue confidently into Lexa’s mouth.

Lexa moans in turn, chases her tongue and sucks on her bottom lip, she’s still leaning on Clarke, pushing her onto the bed. She extends a hand for leverage and snakes the other one around Clarke’s waits, leaning more fully into her. Clarke’s hand on her bicep flies back to hold herself as well when Lexa keeps on leaning until she’s practically on top of Clarke even with her feet still on the ground.

It’s outrageously long before they break for air, and when they do, they don’t part if anything they hold each other closer as if to make sure the other won’t leave. They press their foreheads together, but neither is brave enough to open their eyes, they breath heavily, drunkenly.

Lexa moves slightly, bumping her nose with Clarke and huffing a giggle at Clarke’s answering bump, she opens her eyes just in time to see Clarke open hers and the smirk adorning her lips reaches up to her eyes.

Over all the noise in Clarke’s head, questions and desires and also just mush, she can’t help but high-five herself in her head, she was right Lexa’s sweater do compliment her eyes, it’s a deeper shade of green than her grey-ish green eyes, but green all-the-same.

“Hi” Clarke’s giggle drunkenly.

Lexa smiles dopily “Hey there”

“You didn’t tell me you were such good kisser”

“I’m good at a lot of things” Lexa giggles, and she really doesn’t mean it flirty this time, but then Clarke’s pupils dilate and she’s thankful to her subconscious.

“Yeah?” Clarke bites her lip “Will you show me?”

Oh hell! She’s got game!

Lexa kisses her, she kisses her deeply and dirty because that was really hot, and oh so smooth and she doesn’t know what to say, she’s always been better with actions anyways-

She can’t help the smirk that gets kissed off by Clarke at her next idea; Lexa sneaks a hand under Clarke’s top and feels around the clap of her bra, she pulls away from the kiss with a wet sound and smirks at Clarke’s frown before she’s snapping the claps open with a simple twist of her wrist.

“Example number one” She giggles again and Clarke gasps at her with a smile.

“You should get my top off next” Clarke winks, recovering quickly.

It takes Lexa a second to swallow down before nodding her head “yep, great idea”

They make quick work with the crop top, and Clarke throws her bra to the side enjoying the way Lexa completely stops at the sight of her boobs.

“Like what you see” she bites her lips, one hand back behind Lexa’s neck and the other planted back on her bed, her back arches in such way and she knows she’s an spectacular view.

Lexa gapes, blinks once and then not for a long while which makes Clarke chuckle, she pulls slightly at Lexa’s neck, urging her to lean on her again and Lexa can only brace herself on the bed, still transfixed.

“Can I-” She clears her throat, her voice is hoarse, eyes dark with want as she looks up to her eyes. Clarke shudders a breath as Lexa swallows and tries again “Can I touch you?” she breath out.

Clarke could moan at the sound of Lexa’s desire, she bites her lip harder instead, takes a shuddering breath and nods her head.

Lexa’s eyes are back down to Clarke’s breaths, it’s not that she hadn’t realized Clarka had… such voluminous rack, she just thought she wasn’t supposed to care. And there’s a very big difference between clothed and enclosure boobs and… this.

She moves her hands to Clarke’s hips, enjoys the way her breath catches when she moves them to her waist and they make contact with her bare skin. Lexa licks her lips as her hands travel up Clarke’s ribs and move accordingly to fit the underside of Clarke’s breast in the cup of her hand.

They both sigh when Lexa presses up and squeezes the full weight of Clarke’s boobs.

“Fuck”

Clarke smirks, and Lexa can’t be bothered to recognize that she said that out loud, she plays with Clarke’s nipples for only a second before Clarke is pulling her forward into a kiss. She pauses her ministration, if only to moan into Clarke’s mouth as their tongues meet.

A hand snakes down her neck groping her tits over the sweater on its way down to her waist when Clarke pushes the sweater up to pull her closer still. She quickly pushes it higher util Lexa has to lift her arms to take it off, she does so reluctantly, not happy to let go of Clarke’s breast.

Clarke laughs at her when they kiss again, having regained her balance she kisses Lexa more comfortably, now sitting up, while making a quick job of Lexa’s belt, and consequently, her pants.

Lexa steps back to step off them and Clarke takes the chance to slide off the bed, ready to comfortably kiss all over Lexa’s body when she freezes. Lexa’s is wearing a matching set of linger. A dark shade of green, it’s not see-through but the artist in Clarke can recognize the work of the beautiful design over the lace.

She blinks when Lexa huffs a smirk at her, her gaze breaks the patter of bra-abs-panties to look at Lexa in the eye; she gives her a smirk of her own and pulls her closer by the hips, bending down to drop a kiss under Lexa’s sternum and dropping down to her abs.

While Lexa shudders at Clarke’s lips on her skin she can’t help the smile on her lips, it feel good to have this effect on Clarke, it makes her feel sexy and desired and she likes it. Clarke moves up her body grabbing a handful of Lexa’s ass to drag her closer and kisses her again, she’s still leaning on her bed and Lexa happily steps into her again, holding Clarke’s shoulder as they kiss and taking the chance to kick off her heel.

The first step down leaves her eye level with Clarke and their lips part at the change angle. Lexa moves her hands down to Clarke’s knees consciously through the holes in Clarke’s cargos, and Clarke wraps her arms around Lexa’s waist. She kicks her second heel off while they look at each other smiling.

“Come here” Clarke breaths into her leaning forward for a kiss and then back to pull Lexa on the bed.

They giggle and adjust so Lexa can climb on the bed, they kiss and tickle each other trying to get Clarke’s shoes and pants off. Clarke lays flat on her back and encourages Lexa to straddle her.

The sight of Lexa fluidly sliding down to kiss her is one Clarke’s sure she’ll never forget, she moans into the kiss and holds Lexa’s waits, she arches her back at the feeling of the linger gracing her nipples and she suddenly can’t wait to her Lexa’s bra off.

She’s a little distracted though, Lexa moves to kiss her jaw and down her neck, and Clarke’s hands travel up to Lexa’s ribs and then down to her hips and back to grab a handful of her butt.

They moan and sigh and they pull at each other for kisses while molding their bodies together. Lexa sits back to flick her hair, and Clarke follows her halfway up, chasing her lips, but stopping at the gorgeous view of Lexa straddling her. Clarke absently traces her hand up Lexa’s tight and while leaning on her elbows she sneaks her hand to cup Lexa’s cover core.

Lexa bites her lip to contain a groan as she rocks her hips into Clarke’s hand. She keeps going like that rolling her hips sensually, her hand holding her hair as she watches Clarke watch her.

“Fuck… I want to touch you”

“You are touching me, Clarke” Lexa smirks, enjoying the effect she’s having on Clarke.

Clarke pushes herself up and ghosts a kiss over Lexa’s lips “I’ll be more specific. I want to be inside you” her voice huskier than a second ago “Can I do that?”

The little whimper that crawls out of Lexa’s throat is not something she’s proud of, but she can’t ignore the glow of pure want the fill Clarke’s eyes after hearing it. She bites her lip, nodding her head and moves her hands into Clarke’s hair to draw her into a kiss that is all tongue and teeth.

Clarke wastes no time moving her underwear aside and making room for her fingers to explore. Lexa resists the urge to roll her hips into every touch while smirking at every one of Clarke’s gasps.

Clarke teases her entrance repeatedly, rubbing around her clit but never truly touching it, she bites Lexa’s bottom lip and licks into her mouth while using her free hand to encourage her rolling hips.

It’s not long before they both know Lexa is ready and Clarke enters her with a singular digit. They moan into each other’s mouths as Lexa stills and gasps, adjusting to the feeling, she moans again when she starts moving and Clarke follows suit, calmly going in and curling out. A second finger is added, and Lexa turns her head to hide in the hollow between Clarke’s neck and shoulder, she nibs and kisses the skin available as her arms go around Clarke’s shoulders, giving her more leverage to rock into her fingers.

Clarke sucks her neck and bites her earlobe as they move in sink and she gasps every so often, adjusting her hand to give Lexa a better angle to rub her clit over Clarke’s palm. It’s only the third time Lexa’s open mouth kiss turns into a shuffled moan that Clarke speaks to her.

“Lexa… you know we’re completely alone right? You don’t… need to keep quiet” she says, blushing. Because they concept of wanting to hear Lexa feels way more intimate than the position, they’re in, specifically since it’s an addition to it.

Lexa grunts lifting her head, she doesn’t stop the rolling of her hips and Clarke doesn’t stop the movement of her hand “These are paper-thin walls Clarke!” She scowls, heaving the words out, her face is flushed, and the crown of her head is damp from forming sweat -Clarke didn’t know she could get even more beautiful- “of course I have to keep quiet!” She groans.

Clarke kisses her instead of arguing, because she can, and she looks so pretty, and she can feel the moan she heaves into her mouth and it’s good enough for now. They continue kissing and huffing and moaning into each other until a particularly perfect moan from Lexa cuts off by her biting her own lip.

“Hey. Listen” Clarke huffs “quick floor plan description, behind me is the common room, currently empty. Behind you there’s a laundry room that is obviously closed right now, past my closet is the hallway, also empty, and out the window… you saw it was also quite empty”

Lexa closed her eyes hallway through the sentence, frowning and she kept moving and conflicted as to how Clarke could form such an elaborate sentence when all Lexa could think was-

“Fuck!”

She feels the smirk Clarke presses onto her neck, she bites her lip again and assumes her brain understood beyond her consciousness.

“That’s it, let me hear you, Heda”

She moans a filthy moan, Clarke smirks is wider, she bites Lexa’s neck, and she huffs in mild annoyance.

“Make me, Princess” she shoots between hoarse breaths.

She smirks when she opens her eyes to a gapping Clarke staring at her with lust, she closes her eyes quickly after when Clarke moves to lean one hand back fuck her harder with the other.

“Sky!” Lexa moans and immediately blushes.

It was loud, very loud. And the wrong name-

“Say that again” Clarke hushes, nibbing her jaw, thrusting up to meet her rocking hips.

“Sky…” Lexa… whimpers, she wishes she could call it something else, but it is what it is.

Clarke kisses her and they rock against each other in sync, Lexa moans and Clarke gasps and they’re both panting. Lexa closes her eyes, throws her head back, Clarke can’t keep staring. Their rhythm is thrown off for a second when they hear a creaking sound, they both blink and quickly realize it’s the bed protesting from the motion.

They smirk at each other.

They kiss messily while still smiling and pick up the pace, Lexa throws her head back again, moaning freely and Clarke latches her mouth to her neck. She moves her arm from behind her all the way around Lexa’s torso and pulls her close.

Lexa adjusts in Clarke lap, making her lean on her hand again and she takes the chance to push her by the shoulders back to the bed. Clarke lands with a huff and her hand flies to pull pillows behind her head when Lexa presses her hand over Clarke’s ribs, almost cupping the underside of her boob and starts rocking her hips firmly into Clarke’s hand.

Her moans grow louder, her eyes close and her breath heaves even more, her hips eventually start stuttering, moving erratically and Clarke holds her hip while thrusting up, helping her hand reach deeper.

“Fuck! Sk-mmhh, Clarke!”

They both know she’s close, she’s riding Clarke’s fingers with purpose, sighing and moaning and huffing heavily, all it takes is Clarke moving her free hand to press her thumb to Lexa’s clit and one singular undulating thrust for Lexa to frees in pleasure, strangled moan caught in her thought before she comes undone, shaking screaming out the end of her moan.

She leans heavily on her hand over Clarke’s ribs through her orgasm and eventually flops forward, laying half on top of Clarke with both pairs of hand trapped between them.

As Lexa lays there, completely spent, Clarke can't help but smile and move to kiss the side of her forehead. Her fingers are still wrapped around Lexa's warm walls and her hand is folded with her release. She leans to kiss her shoulder as well as she moves her hand out of Lexa and from between their bodies, she grabs Lexa's hand to move out from between them as well and can't resist the chance to kiss the back of it.

Lexa huffs a laugh and what feels like an audible eye roll. She lifts her head slowly and deliberately leans in to kiss Clarke. The kiss is soft and so deep, Lexa is fully leaning on her now and her weight make the kiss harder.

Lexa moves her kisses to Clarke's jaw, she bites her earlobe and sucks on her pulse point, she moves down to kiss her collarbone as Clarke huffs a shig, her breaths fastening. It is with only one slurry look, that Clarke arches her back, and Lexa starst devouring Clarke’s nipples expertly.

“Can I go down on you?”

“You, uhm- you don’t have to” Clarke breaths, heavily.

“I-" Lexa bites her lip, looks down and they slowly sensually up "I want to”

"Mh-mhh?" Clarke hums, high pitched affected not only by Lexa's work on her tits but also the look of pure desire on Lexa's face.

At Lexa's nod, Clarke nods as well and Lexa smirks as she starts making her way down to her core.

Lexa takes only a short moment to admire the glistening heat of Clarke's heat before diving in. Clarke moans loudly at the first swipe of Lexa's tongue, throwing her head back and grabbing onto her sheets. It spurs Lexa on, each new movement, new swipe or kiss to Clarke's can't grants her a series of different sounds and reaction out of Clarke that are simply too hot.

A thought of where and with how may people Lexa might've learn to be that good crosses Clarke's mind, but before she can get jealous of upset she remembers she's no one to judge. She doesn't dwell on it for too long either, Lexa is far too talented with her tongue for Clarke to be able to hold any thought for longer that two swipes of Lexa's tongue.

Eventually Lexa enters her with one finger and then quickly a second one when it goes in too easily. She looks up as she attaches her mouth to Clarke's clit a second later, smirking as Clarke whimpers a shudders below her.

"Fuck! God Lexa yes!" Clarke throws her head back, a hand jumping to Lexa's hair when she starts moving; both her fingers inside her and her tongue over her clit, circling it expertly..

It doesn't take too long before Clarke is coming apart, shaking and shouting out Lexa's name, shuddering away and up into Lexa's mouth, overwhelmed with pleasure.

She taps Lexa's head tiredly to signal her that she can't take anymore and still whispers when Lexa removes her mouth from her. Lexa smirks and moved to kissing her tight, pulling her fingers in and out slowly to draw out the last of her orgasm.

Lexa kisses her hip next, leaving a mark as her fingers continue moving and Clarke jerks and moan with the aftershoks, she moves to the other hip and pulls out slowly when Clarke taps her head again, she takes a long deliberate path up Clarke's body, kissing any skin aviable and diving right into a kiss to her lips once she reaches them.

Clarke moans at the taste of herself on Lexa's tongue and enjoys the way Lexa deepens the kiss and rolls her hips on top of her as a response. They make out for a bit, smiling and huffing at each other, bumping noses and rolling into each other as their hands roam mindlessly.

That is until Clarke slides a thigh between Lexa's and feels her wetness rub on her. She presses up, moaning as Lexa bites her lips and cants her hips mote firmly into her. Clarke leans up to kiss Lexa and in a swift and impressive move turns them around in the small bed to lay on top of Lexa.

"Fucking me turned you on, didn't it?" Clarke whispers against Lexa's ear, snaking a hand down her abdomen and bitting her earlobe.

Lexa breaths out, swallowing a whimper as Clarke grazes her fingers over her folds finding her freshly wet.

"You're very vocal" she eventually breaths out, her eyes are closed and Clarke is sucking a bruise into her neck as she toys with her can't lazily.

Clarke smiles into her neck, hums in agreement and bites her lightly. She moves her fingers as though she's going to enter her and lifts her head.

"Do you like that? That I'm vocal?"

Lexa opens her eyes while blushing, she bites her lip and nods slightly, she then throws her head back with a moan as Clarke enters her with two fingers easily.

"Good... because i want to talk you through this one okay?" She huffs a chuckle into her lips, and Lexa moans as Clarke pulls out hooking her finger on the way.

"Skyy!"

Clarke thrust into her with the help of her thigh and starts a rhythm, one that Lexa matches with her huffs and moans and curses and calls of her name, all the while Clarke prises her, and tells her how good she feels, how good she sounds, how beautiful she looks and how she can't wait to see her come undone again.

"Fu-fuck! Like that-SKY!"

"I love it when you call me that, fuck"

"Yeah...? Fuck-" Lexa bites her lip.

The bed is creaking again, knocking against the wall as Clarke pounds her fingers into her cunt.

"Yeah, but... fuck. I want you tl say my name when you come. I want to hear you clicking that K like you always do-

"Fuck- ah! you" Lexa huffs a laughs and Clarke laughs with her, kissing her cheek and making her blush.

Becasue of course something like a kiss to the cheek after a joke would make her laugh, never mind that she's but naked, legs spread open and Clarke fingering her into an orgasm.

A kiss to the cheek is too much.

"Fuck Lex, you're so tight" Clarke hushes against her collarbone.

Lexa moans, because she likes the nickname, it's nothing special, but she likes it. And Clarke is doing ungodly things to her pussy, caressing her sides, saying all the right things and sucking on that specific spot right on top of her collarbone that drives her crazy, because she has her all figured out already.

And she is tight, she can feel it, she's so close, she can feel that familiar feeling in her lower belly, tugging at her, making her moan-

"Cla-ahrke!"

She comes so hard, for so long and Clarke keeps taking to her, she can't tell what she's saying because her brain is mush, but it's dragging her climax on and on until she can't take it anymore.

Still shaking she grabs at Clarke's bicep, squezing and whimpering, moving her hips away.

"No more?" Clarke whispers soflty. Lexa can't only shake her head "Okay baby" she kisses her jaw and if Lexa's face wasn't already red from coming, she sure as well would be blushing.

Clarke kisses Lexa's shoulders soflty, trying to keep her weight off her as she still breaths heavily. Lexa's eyes are closed and Clarke takes the chance to look at her. Her faced flushed a pretty fading shade of red, her lips parted sightly as she huffs her breaths out, her hair is a mess, sprawled around the pillow under her. Her collar bones and chest are red as well, adorned with a couple hickeys she can't help but to be proud of.

And then Lexa blinks her eyes open, heavy eyelids drop a couple of time before she can keep her eyes fully open. And then a smile raises slowly, and Clarke realizes as she tries to smile, that she was already smiling brightly.

"Hi" Lexa chuckles.

"Hey there" Clarke leans in to kiss her and Lexa moves her hands to hold her close.

They move a little messily, laughing as Lexa refuses to separate their lips, Clarke lays on her side and Lexa turns with her.

The kiss turns lazy when Lexa has no strengths to even coordinate her lips, her eyes close permanently. Clarke smiles and pulls back, kissing Lexa's nose just because and watching a smile rise slowly with a slow huffed laugh.

"Sweet dreams, Heda"

"Mmhh, g'night Princess"

-

...To be continued 😉😌

[psycheetamore]

@houserautha : thank you for this vulnerable post. I feel you. I support you. I love you for writing this. I love you for writing TDE and the one shots.

When I first joined Tumblr I did not feel entitled to comment on anything. Now I have more of a FU, I will comment on whatever approach. So where I may not have been commenting on every single bit, I have been mentioning your work here and there.

Let me be a bit introspective. Show some of the negative impacts the point you raise, which I also undergo, have caused me to commit.

A first disclaimer to add: I know I am in no way entitled to any response from anyone. This is a me-problem. I know that. That does not mean it does not hurt. But that is not a you-problem, it is a me-problem.

I have been inclined so often to make a similar post. But what refrained me, is that I know some of the topics I explore in my fics are quite niche, and that I know my writing qualities are nowhere near for instance yours. Anyhow, it has made me feel not entitled to make this observation, but if you do it, with your wonderful writing style and mix of plot & smut, while capturing our na-Baron's heart perfectly, then I am entitled to support you by sharing my own feelings.

A bit of background on what I have tried to do to keep the fandom alive, and how it has (not) been responded to:

I try to comment increasingly on posts, trying to increase engagement and kickstart a convo. Sometimes I will go out of my way and do lenghty reposts. Yet this more often does not result in any responses than it does. Again: I am not entitled to any response, me responding does not mean anyone is obliged to respond. But even the lack of a smiley or whatever makes me feel like I am a social outcast (it throws me back to my youth, truly). Sometimes I will see in the blogger's page that they are on a spectrum, which removes that negative feeling btw - in such cases I will continue.

I became a member to a Feyd community (invitation only thing). I felt so honoured! I dragged in some of my favourite fanfic writers, who all happily obliged. Only to see that after a first few posts from my hand the responses started to decline. With the last posts resulting in zero engagement. Nobody owes me anything, but it makes it hard to stay in there. It feels like rejection (more on that below), and I have too much self respect to act like a puppy being kicked repeatedly yet coming back. Again: this is all about my feelings, and nobody owes me shit.

I write fanfic. My writing style is not there with the Feyd author gods I so adore. Working on that, pouring my heart and soul in it, and it is ok if people don't like it. Somehow, few likes and no comments allows me to see my fic as niche, while a lot of likes and no comments make me feel more empty? I don't know.

And it has started to bug me. It has caused me to have periods of negative vibes around tumblr. It has concretely caused a few types of responses:

I have stepped out of the Feyd Tumblr Community Group. I thought about it for a few months. Was very reluctant as I dragged in quite a few people. That tbh has reduced these feelings; stepping out of that has been positive for my mental welbeing.

With people who engage with me, I will return the favour. With people who don't, I will feel reluctance. With a few I even thought about unfollowing them. I prioritise commenting on authors who engage with me on a regular basis, over great authors who don't. Perhaps it is because it makes me feel they are entitled. This is bad, because this causes the downward spiral. And there could be good reasons why they do not ready any of the fics I write, even if I tag them very deliberately (I do not tag a lot). And again: I am not entitled to anything. But it hurts. And effectively it makes me respond & engage less than if I would be a 100% happy go lucky me. Want my engagement, want my engagement continuously? A little pat on the back will go a far way.

I write less than I would want to. I am an extravert. I thrive on engagement with people. Bouncing ideas of them. Lack of it has a negative impact.

Esp around christmas I felt quite horrible about all of this. It was esp the result of a few bloggers who suddenly did not respond anymore. It made me feel so rejected. Like I did something wrong. It made me contemplate quitting tumblr a couple of times. But I decided not to do that, because this is not the first time this happened, so it is something linked to me, not tumblr as such. It made me do some soulsearching. It stems from my youth. I listened to quite some podcasts, read articles etc. I learned that I am hardwired for rejection. Everything that happens, or does not happen, will be seen in my head as rejection. I feel so freaking ashamed to admit this, tbh. I have only 1 real life friend I dared to admit this to. I felt so ashamed around christmas, that I was being brought to these obsessive feelings over a fricking fandom. I am nearly at tears writing this. No, let's be honest. I am in tears.

And this is all not helping the fandom! I am showing behaviour that is not helping this fandom I so much love. With the bloggers I mentioned who stopped responding, I later on continued to have some nice convo's (but I feel held back to show myself as deeply as I did before - I am hardwired for rejection), showing it is a problem with me and how I interpret actions.

But that is all not helping the point you so rightfully raise. The topic on how we keep this fandom alive.

To keep it alive we do not need a lot of people, we need a few people who are willing to engage a lot.

In the real world my suggestion would be to gather a core group of Feyd girlies who see this as an issue and have proven to be active and supportive, and do something about it. Like voluntarily promise to try to support each other. I hoped this would be the case with the Feyd community I stepped out of last week, but unfortunately it wasn't.

This is a fandom: the fact that it is declining is by itself the rightful consequence of its members not feeling it is worth having. So, my crude conclusion is that the decline is the natural consequence of what all of us are willing to put into this.

But, now I have poured my heart and soul into this post, it has caused relief. And I have an idea. Because not only am I hardwired to find rejection and look at myself in a bad way, I am also hardwired to see solutions.

personally I think it’s a shame how fandoms “died” too soon these days. I’m not talking in literal sense and I know there are people who stay passionate about their fandoms long after the hype is gone. I’m talking about the “popularity” and how people in general engage with a piece of media they like and how fast they let the hype die down? I don’t know if I’m making any sense, but what I’m trying to say is a fanfic or a fan art of a show that is recently released will get tons of likes, comments, reblogs which is great. but the engagement for fan made content about that same show usually drops drastically — and I mean drastically — once the show is no longer “recent”. and I’m not even talking about when the show is several years old. because you can see the significant drop of engagement a fanfic or fan art about that show receives once the show is like a month old or two. it’s discouraging how most people tend to lose interest and stop engaging with fanfic / fan art once its source material is no longer “new and shiny”.

especially when writing fanfics and creating fan art take time. writers and artists often receive less engagement / appreciation for their works if they take “too long” to create and the source material is no longer “new and shiny” and so people move on to something else that’s new and shiny. it’s heartbreaking to see.

obviously this is in no way to manipulate or guilt trip people into engaging with anything. because yeah you can do whatever you want. this isn’t to force, manipulate or guilt trip anyone into liking or reblogging a fan work or anything. this is just me hoping people will one day take things slower and enjoy things they’re passionate about longer like how we used to in the past.

[infiniteeight8]

Ironstrange: soulmarks show potential/compatible soulmates and change (appear, fade, etc). Tony has one that has never changed, no matter how often he interacts with Strange. How does Stephen win him over?

I ended up doing a fair bit of mental world building to get this to work in my brain. I hope the result is interesting!

-

“Tony,” Stephen says, approaching him after an Avengers meeting has wrapped up. “Could we speak in private?”

Tony has been dreading this day ever since he spotted the mosaic decorating Stephen’s chest and realized that the design filling one of the hexes matched one of the pie slices in the circle Tony bears on his shoulder. But there’s no avoiding it, not really. “Yeah, alright,” he says, and Stephen’s brow wrinkles at the reluctant note that Tony doesn’t even try to suppress. Might as well start lowering his expectations now.

Tony leads them into a spare conference room. No point in making this too personal. Hitching one hip up on the table, he waits for Stephen to close the door behind himself and then waves for him to go on.

“We have soulmate potential,” Stephen says carefully.

“I’m aware.”

Stephen is quiet for a moment. “I take it you’re not interested in pursuing that.”

Well, this is already going better than expected. “I’m not,” Tony confirms. 

“May I ask why?”

“Sure,” Tony offers lightly and waits. 

Impressively, Stephen doesn’t seem frustrated or impatient despite being forced to ask the question again: “Why are you not interested in pursuing a potential soulmate?”

“Because I’ve been down this road before,” Tony says bluntly. “Three times, actually. Potential soulmates who come to me full of pretty promises about what our future could look like if only I’d let them in, give them a chance, open up. They push and they push and they push because they’re so sure we’re going to be perfect together, and when the mark never activates they get angry and resentful and blame me for not trying hard enough. I should have learned from the first two, but the third… The third was Pepper. At least I managed to salvage a friendship out of that one. 

“In my experience,” Tony went on, “soulmate potential doesn’t improve relationships, it ruins them. I’m not interested in going through that again.”

Stephen is quiet for a long minute. Tony waits for the argument for how Stephen is different. Maybe he’ll claim the silver mark—a platonic soulmate—on his chest means he knows how this works. Maybe he’ll argue that they have more in common, both being heroes. Maybe he thinks magic gives him extra  insight into the whole soulmate concept. 

“I understand,” Stephen says eventually. “I hope we can be friends, eventually, but I imagine you’ll want some distance first.”

He turns and opens the conference room door, and it’s then, when Tony is still staring after him in disbelief, that Tony feels the flare of heat in his shoulder.

Stephen stops, but doesn’t turn back. Tony yanks his shirt off and cranes his neck to peer at his shoulder. “Well, look at that,” he says, bemused. Stephen’s pie slice shines gold. “Apparently all I needed was for someone to respect my choice.” He looks up to find Stephen still in the doorway, shoulders tense. “Get back here, Stephen.”

Stephen closes the door and hesitantly comes back to stand before Tony. “You’re sure?” His eyes go to Tony’s shoulder and the golden mark.

“I’ve never had an activated mark before,” Tony says. “The variables have changed.” Stephen arches an eyebrow and Tony rolls his eyes. “That’s a yes. I’m sure.”

Stephen smiles. “Good.”

[whenthehammerissquare]

Paperwork

Frater Imperator makes an announcement to his ghouls that they don't particularly like.

(Silly drabble about Copia making the ghouls track their kills)

Frater Imperator stood nervously at the conference room podium, shuffling papers that had nothing to do with the announcement he was about to make. Holding them made this meeting–and by extension himself–feel official. Not to mention it helped having something to hold onto while facing a hoard of ansty ghouls who most definitely did not want to be here. ‘The quicker I get this done, the better’, he told himself before taking a deep breath and addressing the crowd.

“Excuse me, may I have your attention everybody?” The crowd of demons continued to bicker, laugh, and chat amongst themselves. Copia straightened his papers again and cleared his throat. “EXCUSE ME, everybody!”

At the sound of their leader's raised voice, the ghouls gradually began to settle down. There were a few murmurs amongst them, but relative quiet was good enough for now.

“Ah, thank you. I apologize for taking up your time today, but there are some important matters I'd like to address.” Copia scanned the crowd quickly, noting that most of his former band ghouls still sat together at one table. If today's little meeting went sour, it was nice to know that maybe some of the ghouls were still loyal enough to him to not retaliate. Emphasis on some.

“Our legal team has had some concerns lately, especially with the, eh, increase in disappearances being traced back to the Ministry.” His statement was met with whispers and rolling eyes. “I know, I know. We are the Satanic Ministry. People get sacrificed. It's what we do. But, we must keep the image of being the friendly neighborhood Satanists. Especially with a big tour about to kick off.”

The whispers grew to scattered groans. It wasn't unusual for the ghouls to lament certain human standards and practices, but interfering with their hunts was always a point of contention. Copia could hardly blame them with how counterintuitive his last statement seemed. Still, he had to resume business as usual. “I do not wish to discourage your work whatsoever. I really admire your, uh, tenacity and dedication to eliminating this earth’s scum. But with that being said, the legal team and I have decided to implement some procedures to make it easier to redirect negative attention.”

The room was silent. Frater was sweating now. Quiet ghouls were much more dangerous than loud ones. “It's, um, well, you must now file an official report each time you kill someone. Preferably within a day of doing so.”

Although the silence was now gone, the frustrated chatter was enough to fill the whole room. Copia could barely hear his own thoughts over the ruckus. He held his hands up, trying to quiet the ghouls to no avail. He would have to attempt to talk over them. “LOOK, look, I hate paperwork just as much as the next guy, but we have to be careful. We can't have the authorities on our case.”

A ghoulette's hand shot up in the air. Copia nodded her way, glad someway attempting to be polite. “Go ahead.”

“Well if the cops show up, can't we just kill them too?”

Her query was followed by a chorus of “yeahs!” and multiple admissions to having killed cops before.

Copia sighed, setting down his papers to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You know, you have a good point. If I could, we would have it your way, Those bastards deserve it.” The audience cheered momentarily before Copia interjected again. “But we have to maintain some decorum. Kill them all you'd like, but you'll still have to file a report on it.”

The group turned on him again, boos filling the air. Frater Imperator sighed, finding it ironic that he of all people, was urging others to go through the bureaucratic red tape he so despised. No wonder his mother was always so uptight.

In the following weeks, Copia came to the realization that he should have gone more in depth on the etiquette of filing an official document. More than once, he had been handed a paper fully soaked in blood, sometimes by a ghoul who hadn't yet bothered to wash off the remnants of their kill before coming to his office. Other times, the reports were crinkled or so vague that they barely helped at all. One ghoul even decided to forgo answering any of the listed questions and opted instead to draw a stick-figure reenactment of what they had done. Each report added just a bit more gray to the older man's hair. At this rate, he'd be a silver fox before tour even started. This head of Clergy thing was turning out to be more difficult than he had hoped.

[lizardho]

A rant I wrote for my best friend in 2020-ish - now she's my wife and is gonna be like "Why did you post this instead of working on your dissertation?" and the answer is because I'm procrastinating silly stylez

Mormon Missions

The Basis of Mormon Missionary Work

              Mormons, like many evangelical religions, proselyte as a core part of their religious activities. They claim (accurately) that early Christians did the same thing, and that scripture tells followers of Christ to do the same thing. So it’s a pretty big deal to them. When the Mormon church was first founded, missionary work was seen as an excited thing for Mormon men to do. The first prophet, Joseph Smith, would go visit people or invite them to his home, and tell them personally where God wanted them to go preach. They’d take a crate of copies of The Book of Mormon and go to close places (like New York or the American  South), or they’d go to far-away places, like England, Scotland, and Ireland.

Early missionaries were wildly successful, mainly because people the world was in sort of a religious frenzy at the time, and also the internet didn’t exist. They’d convert a few hundred people, tell them to move to Missouri, then continue on their merry way, going for a few years at a time before returning home as heroes. It was sees as a fun, manly way to abandon your family for a few years to go to England and sell books. After a while, though, Joseph Smith started getting too horny. At first, he was content to fuck the babysitter and some single ladies, telling them that God gave them the thumbs up, so it was cool. After a while, he got even hornier, and decided it was about time he fucked some married women. So he’d send the husbands of the hottest MILFs in his congregation to England for a few years, and then marry and fuck their wives while they were gone.

Sometimes, he’d tell them (“Oh, haha, hey, funny story, while you were in England because God told you to go there, your wife tripped and fell on my penis, and God said it was part of his plan, and I was into it, so we just went with it”) and sometimes he DIDN’T tell them. One guy he told got pretty mad about it, and he and his wife packed up and left Missouri, set up shop in a nearby town, and then made a newspaper. They printed the hot headline “Joseph Smith says God wants him to fuck your wives” and Joseph was like “Oh hey, let’s not let people in on that”. A mob of Mormon acolytes, who may or may not have been cucked by Joe the Prophet, also got upsetti spaghetti and burned down the printing press. Joseph then pardoned them, and was backed by the Nauvoo Legion, the 2nd largest military force in the U.S. at the time, and 100% Mormon. This was bad because a) Arson is a felony, commonly referred to as a “dick move”, and b) This violates the bill of rights, which guarantees freedom of the press. So Joseph was arrested. In jail, he was killed by an angry mob, and a new guy took over the Mormon church. His name was Brigham Young, and he was hornier than Joseph, who in turn was hornier than God had ever intended for anyone to be. Brigham took up the proud tradition of ignoring consent and ethical polyamory, and just sending men on far-away missions so he could spread his seed like a shitty incel-gone-rogue Genghis Khan.

After a while, missionary work stopped. Mainly, it stopped because of World War I. Then, the depression his the world like a starvation-inducing meteor, and missionary work slowed down a bit. Fortunately, the great depression ended! Because WWII started and everyone started dying again, so like, it was more of a lateral move. After WWII, though, the U.S. was suddenly a financial superpower with access to more of the world that it had previously had. So they started shipping missionaries off all over. It was still done by “calling”, where local congregation leaders would feel inspired to send people on missions, and then they would do that.

At some point in the 50s, an attempt was made to standardize missionary teachings a little bit, since the church was dealing with issues about people teaching weird stuff, like women having rights (the church still teaches that women shouldn’t work unless single or their husband is struggling to provide, and operates proudly on a “barefoot and pregnant” model of women’s rights that they teach very strongly to everyone from the ages of about 4 until 18), black people not being inferior (this was taught until the 70s), and tithing not being important (the church currently has over $100 billion in stocks and real-estate that we know of, it’s probably more).

So they made a tiny booklet with a basic summary of canon Mormon doctrine. Then, later, in the 70s, there was a HUGE push to get more missionaries. The phrase “every worthy, able-bodied young man should serve a mission” was used, and is still used, to describe who is expected to “serve” a mission. As they started this movement, they also began making rigid lesson plans, called “The Discussions” that missionaries needed to stick to. They were roughly 30 minutes long, relied on rote memorization, and were inflexible. At first, these were a big hit and people had a lot of success, but as education in the world improved, and more people were given access to schooling, technology, and financial stability, suddenly numbers began to plummet. So they changed the game plan: Make the lessons less structured, then blame missionaries personally for failure to convert people. These changes produced a book called “Preach My Gospel”, which was what I used as a missionary. They changed it again recently, but not by much, it’s just more simplistic. Like going from 3.5 to 5e.

- https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/new-era/1981/05/president-kimball-speaks-out-on-being-a-missionary?lang=eng

- https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/manual/gospel-topics/missionary-work?lang=eng

My own missionary experience

Basics of Mission Structure

-Mormon congregations are called “Wards”, which get sorted into “Stakes”, which is a group of 5-10 wards.

-A mission is made when there is a certain ratio of stakes-to-non Mormons.

-A mission is split when there are too many Mormons in an area. So like, my dad’s mission has been split 5 or 6 times now into smaller missions because of how rapidly the church grew in those areas.

-Transfers: A transfer cycle is 6 weeks long, and you stay with your assigned companion for at least that whole cycle, sometimes 2-3 cycles.

 One of the things to note (that you may have kinda picked up on already) is that being a missionary is kind of an exalted “rite of passage” thing. They view missionary work as an act of service to the world at large, and thing that missionaries are comparable to like…soldiers or doctors, heroes who are saving people from the forces of evil or spiritual sickness. It’s a weird mindset to be in, and it really gets pushed on you, especially as a missionary. Missionary work is pushed on young men as a spiritual obligation (note: They can’t force you to go, so it’s not like an actual obligation, but it’s definitely perceived as such for a lot of people). So, since I was a young “man” they started pushing it on me at like…12? A little younger? My grandpas both went on missions, so they thought that it would be great if I did too. My dad went on a mission (He went to Argentina’s southern end). It just kinda seemed like the thing everyone did, except I didn’t really want to go. I wanted to get married and have kids, but like…’f’ in the chat, I guess. Uterus machine broke.

I just ignored the general discomfort I felt about missionary work (like the general discomfort I felt about a lot of things tbh), and went to BYU like a good l’il Mormon. I turned down a 10k/year scholarship from ASU to go to BYU, because I am an idiot. At BYU, I made good friends, one of whom was trans!!! But she transferred away after coming out :c  But I had a D&D group!!! But they all left on missions :c  So I decided that if it was between being the only 20 year old on BYU campus who didn’t go on a mission, or going on a mission, I’d go. That was literally my process. Please make fun of dumb boy me, please, he deserves it. Anyways, I put in my papers, the prophets and apostles in Salt Lake sign me up with a big batch of elders going to Mexico City North. Mexico City is HUGE, so it’s broken down into 6 separate missions with 6 separate mission leaders. I was in the northernmost areas of Mexico City, including parts of Hidalgo. Chronologically, my mission went like this:

Months 1-6: Zone – Tultepec  |  Congregation Name – Primavera

-Companions: Elder Luis (my trainer): Chubby, kinda annoying but honestly just a sweetheart who liked to eat.

-Elder Mendez (my follow-up trainer): Chubby, good cook, seems nice at first but a bit unhinged. Threatened to kill me a few times. Kinda moody. Mostly just mean and dumb.

àIn this area, me and Elder Luis baptized: Ricardo Frias, who is no longer a member. Veronica, Alejandra, and Brenda, who are still members. Me and elder Mendez baptized Karen Itzel, who I have not been able to catch up with in years. She’d be about 14 now, tho? She was really little when she joined.

àStories: Nothing weird happened in a paranormal sense, but I did get robbed twice in my first week here, which was fun. There was a place in this area called Infonavit that was like a little neighborhood. There was a gang that controlled the area, but they were nice to missionaries, so we never got held up or bothered by them. Still, I did see 2 men with Uzis once just…walking around. Like. In broad daylight. It was incredible.

Months 6-10.5: Zone – Tula  |  Congregation Name – El Carmen

-Companions: Elder Lopez (my best companion): Short, very dark (from Chiapas, so like…very dark for a Mexican), shredded. The man had a 6 pack. Also, intimidatingly intense. After the first lesson we taught together, we were walking away and he belted out “ELDER HOBBS! I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT!” and I was all intimidated because he sounded like a drill sergeant, and despite being a foot taller and about 60 lbs heavier than him, he scared me. So I was like “What?” and he just goes “THAT WAS SO GOOD. YOU ARE A GIFTED TEACHER. I AM LUCKY TO BE ASSIGNED WITH YOU. WE’RE GONNA DO GOOD THINGS HERE.” And anyway he was the best. He cooked every day, he let me play D&D (by myself, so sad lonely hours, but still, it was stress relief). He worked out in a frenzy, had a miserable homelife, and was really just a very nice and supportive person.

-Elder Amador: Tall, really into soccer (had played semiprofessionally for Cruz Azul, as like a minor league player or something). Funny, aggressively cheerful, kind of a wimp. Farted a LOT for some reason, so we’d always take detours down the “less travelled” roads so he could fart in private. I didn’t mind tho because the area was actually really pretty, and sometimes I could see cows 🥺

- In this area, we didn’t baptize anyone. Which was fine with me.

- Stories: So, this is the area where I learned to make guacamole. We were visiting in on an elderly couple nobody had seen in forever. They lived in the BOONIES, like, it was just NOTHING on all sides, and when they answered the door they invited us in, and made us eggs with hotdogs, and then the best goddamn guacamole I’ve ever had in my life. I ate until I was sick.

-ALSO in the area: A supernatural (ish) story: So, Mormons believe that they have “priesthood power”, which is like divine power from God to effectuate his will on earth. This is stuff like healing the sick (never seems to work), causing miracles, summoning angels, and other bullshit that never actually happens. Sometimes people ask for priesthood blessings, usually if they’re sick or if they’re sad and want to feel better. So a guy in our ward flags us down, says he’s feeling iffy, and asks for a blessing. We had nothing else to do, so…sure! Why not? My companion, Elder Lopez, does it, and immediately after he says “amen” the guy starts puking SUPER hard. He stops, looks at us, and says “I cannot feel the left half of my body” and I was like “Hey elder, this guy is gonna die, let’s go get help” so we went basically next door to the home of the one guy in the area that had a car, told him what was happening, and then headed to the hospital. He stopped breathing twice on the way, and Brother Ricardo (the guy with the car) didn’t know CPR, so instead he just hulk-smashed his chest with arms about as thick as my legs, and that seemed to work. Funny stuff.

Months 10.5-15 – Zone: Nicolas Romero  |  Congregation name: Nicolas Romero

-Companions: Elder Casillas (the funnest companion): Fat. Very fat. Lazy, but we still managed to get more done than with anyone else. He was hilarious, and SUPER smart.

-Elder Montini: Originally form Argentina, immigrated to Mexico as a kid, then lived in Cancún. ¼ Italian, and Argentines are pretty white, so he looked American. He also spoke flawless English, and used this ability to shit talk people without them knowing. Also, VERY fat. Like. IN one day he ripped 3 pairs of pants just by sitting down. Kinda “holier-than-thou” but not too bad usually.

-In this area, we baptized NOBODY. Which was GREAT because this ward was actually the woooooorst. I fucking hated everyone in that Ward. They had about 80 people who attended regularly, but 900 people on record, and all 820 people NOT in attendance could tell you exactly why they left, and it was always because one of the shitty 80 had been excessively rude to them. There were 3 good people in that ward, and they all moved away eventually, so…yikes.

- No weird stories from here, but I did get in big trouble for breaking mission rules to… (checks notes)… provide service to elderly widows, so that was fun.

Months 15-21 Zone: Huehuetoca  |  Congregation name: Xalpa

-Companions: Elder Lucero: Total sweetheart, VERY shy. I cured his shyness by annoying him, since apparently feeling angry made him just rash enough to actually speak, so I just kept him lightly agitated with me for a few weeks until he realized he was good at what he did. He’s probably my favorite companion. We actually got along REALLY well.

-Elder Ramirez: Very nice, VERY fun, has a VERY cute sister. We got along well.

-In this area, the ward was HORRIBLE. Nobody liked each other, and everyone was shitty to us, too. We made our way into the ward’s good graces by getting on the good side of the women’s group, then berating their husbands about how shitty they were. The girls loved it, so we did great here. The ward basically tripled in size, and it wasn’t baptisms, it was just us bringing people back. It was actually really fun at the time. We didn’t baptize anyone, but after I left a Jehovah’s Witness got baptized, so I’m counting that as a HUGE win for us. I can shit talk Mormons all day, but the JWs are somehow worse.

-Weird stories from here: We were teaching an old lady, and she was being annoying and obstinate, arguing with us that her family didn’t need to go to church and that she didn’t want to confuse them. So we decided to leave. Nowadays, I’d have completely agreed with her, but at the time I thought I was a divine messenger sent on behalf of God. So. Anyways, as I went to leave, I felt some thing take control of my legs. Like. They stopped working. Idk how to explain it. The rest of me worked. I just couldn’t move my legs. My companion was already standing, I was trying to stand, and finally I just looked at the lady, opened my mouth to say something, and then kinda just went off, but like…they weren’t really MY words coming out of my mouth? Like, I was barely able to move my mouth fast enough for the words to happen, I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying, but when I finished, she said “Wow, Elder, I’ve never thought about it like that. I will absolutely bring my grandson to church on Sunday.” And my companion was just gawking, so apparently whatever I said was pretty good 🤷 

Months 21-24: Area – Nicolas Romero  |  Congregation name: La Colmena

-Companions: Elder Toledo: Kinda immature and lazy, but nice enough.

-Elder Tec: Kinda geeky and weird, very nice, also very jumpy.

-In this area: The ward was good, the people were nice enough, and there was a cool abandoned ranch house that was used as a dog sanctuary  that I loved. There was El Viejito Emilio that guarded the place, and there was a cute middle-aged couple that ran it, and they liked us, so we’d do “service” for them 1-2x a week, which largely consisted of picking up poop and stuff, and then just petting all the cute dogs for so long. Plus, the ranch house itself was HIGH KEY aesthetic. Like a fallout thing, it had graffiti all over, and cool little nicknacks lying around, and we could use it to hide from the rain, and I loved that little ranch house SO much.

- Weird stories: Another blessing. I was giving a VERY newlywed couple a blessing. The husband said he was possessed, but really he just sleeptalked. Whatever, I can bless that I guess? 🤷 So I put my hands on his head and am really just preparing to make something up, when what actually happens in suddenly I knew these people fucked before they tied the knot. An unwelcome surprise, since they were both deeply weird people and I didn’t want to know about their sex lives. So that just kinda popped out of my mouth, and immediately the guy goes RIGID and falls out of his chair. His wife is panicking, she thinks he died, so I go into emergency mode, we prop up his feet, Elder Tec checks for a pulse, he’s still breathing, all good,  and then the mission doctor won’t answer he phone. She was bad about that usually, but it was pretty late, so I wasn’t surprised. So instead, I just called home. Like. Dr Dad to the rescue, right? It was late, my parents were VERY confused, and so I described what what happened, and my dad walked me through some stuff and we kinda just decided he was having a full-blown panic attack because I had announced to the room that he and his wife did it before their wedding, which, again, matters very little to me. It didn’t even matter to me at the time, like…people have sex. It’s what they do. But for some reason some part of the universe was like “You get to know this now, bitch” and I was like “ew, OK, thanks for that”. Anyways, we got home super lte because it took us a while to calm him down, and that was the last time I ever had anything weird like that happen to me again.

- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_T_NYZesRdY (this is from the Book of Mormon musical, and it’s FUCKING hilarious)

- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5KSBEChzpMM (my experience in a nutshell)

[slytherinbangchan]

SlytheringBangchan's reads you can't find on tumblr

First of all, hi! In case there's someone reading this who doesn't follow me. I've been writing for Skz and Nct since 2018💕 I used to write for other groups too, though~ This post is mostly Nct cause I feel like I've yet to reach the Nctzen side of tumblr (which is why I mostly post these on Ao3) but if some of my followers are Czennies please take a look and share~

My works on Ao3~ Inked Dreams (🔞🍆💕)

(Tattoo!Artist Au//College!Au):

Probably one of my fave works in general~ A NCT Dream Tattooist!Au where the Dreamies are college's heartthrobs and most likely will steal your heart whenever you less expect it. Pairings: 7Dream x diff fem readers.

It's focused in a different reader x member/members per Arc but EVERYTHING is connected since they're all in the same AU~ if you started readind this here, you may be aware that I stopped posting it on tumblr for lack of interaction but know that there're a lot more chapters posted on Ao3❣ (Currently 28 chapters)

<<Inked Dreams link here>> (Don't read the tags on ao3 if you don't want spoilers)

The Summer We All Turned Pretty(🔞🍆💕)

Summer!Au // Childhood friends to lovers!Au You've spent your every summer in a huge house at the beach with a bunch of guys you've been friends with since you were a baby. After some years not being able to get everyone in the summer house due to "schedule incompatibilities", you finally get to see all of the guys together again this year. Will partying with the neighbors bring up some old affairs?

It's completed. I'll be posting an epilogue at some point but that's all. Read the notes in last chapter (9) for more details on the epilogue and possible extras💕 It's a reverse harem type of fic most of the time. I'm not stating the members in the harem to avoid spoilers but the main characters are: Fem reader, Lee Haechan, Park Jisung, Mark Lee, Lee Taeyong, Kim Doyoung, Byun Baekhyun, Bangchan, Kim Seungmin, Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Felix, Yang Jeongin, Seo Changbin. I know it may sound like a weird mix, but please trust me on this and give it a chance💕 (Inspired by Jenny Han's "The Summer I Turned Pretty") <<The Summer We all Turned Pretty link>>

São Paulo. (Fuckboy Haechan🔞🍆💕)

Named after The Weeknd's "São Paulo" song. It is an Au where Haechan could be considered a fuckboy, but it's not your typical fuckboy!Au

This is a new fic I've been working on and I'm really excited to share it so I'd be eternally grateful if you'd read it and leave some comments/kudos💕

It'll have 3-4 chapters probably and I'll be posting chap2 soon~

The main character/reader is a chubby girl. There's no specific plot around the reader being chubby, I just felt like writing for this type of body this time💕

<<São Paulo Link>> Double Kill (🔞🍆💕)

You and Baekhyun have been friends since your college days. After some ugly relationships you both decided back then to stop thinking about dating and just going out and have fun every chance you got with anyone you'd fancy. Now, years later and still pretty much afraid of commitment, your ritual remains the same. Then one night, someone special caught your eye...

Multiple pairings: Fem reader x Lee Haechan / Byun Baekhyun / Mark lee. Byun Baekhyun x ten / Taeyong.

<<Double Kill Link>>

agapē (🔞🍆💕) (Fallen Angel Lee Taeyong)

Believe it or not, I wrote this inspired by the Señorita dance cover Taeyong did a long time ago~ It's a one shot, kinda steamy, full of feelings too. Keep either red haired Taeyong or pink haired Taeyong on your head while you read it, hahah💘 <<agapē Link>>

That's all for now! Of course comments/kudos are highly appreciated on all of my works, same as reblogs and likes here~

In Other News:

SKZ Projects I want to bring to Ao3 apart from the ones that are already there: SKZ Tattoo Artist!Au (Rewritten for ao3) SKZ Benders!Au. Ryuusei (Rewritten for Ao3)

[the-stove-is-divorced]

Wishing your skull some cushions and an ice pack, I am shaking Powerplex in my head to keep my sanity intact. Powerplex, save me, Powerplex SAVE MEEEE

I didn't even realize we swapped the SUF thread, lol, truly immaculate on our part. Every thread is the other thread, continuous and looping, at this point. Jasper and Steven make me so fucking ill. She really would conquer galaxies in his name, why aren't I your liege, your knight, your solider, your commander gifting orders in your name, gleefully violence, victorious, and would take it heart he isn't, you know them SO WELLLLLL UGHHHHH. Steven refusing to touch this with a ten foot pole, like please just drink smoothies with me and watch the sunset. Please. Can we not, today?

I'm screaming, Nolan suddenly becomes SO eager about college because Mark can be a journalist, oh my goodness. He figures how to apply for colleges suddenly, fuck scholarships, Nolan will send Mark to college himself, even colonization is put on pause because spite filled hobbies are all consuming lol. Peter and Aunt May hanging out with Mark and Debbie would be everything to me, omg, I NEEEEED IT. I can't quite think of any specific dynamics for them, but I feel May and Debbie would be friends at the very least, and Mark wouldn't mind helping around, though I can see Peter feeling very weird about his new Petty ass Nemsis's kid around the house lol. Like what kind of emotional manipulation fuckery is Nolan up to and why is his kid in it? Mark having to explain he doesn't mean anything by his Dad despite his Dad actively antagonizing Peter would be so funny to me, like, yeah explain whatever the fuck your Dad is doing.

OMNI-MAN WAS FRAMED WOULD GO CRAZY OMG. I literally GASPED at JJ and Powerplex, omg, JJ screaming about how finally, someone to actually doing something about that Invincible brat, or something.

Powerplex opening the season would've had me losing my shit in hype. And honestly, that'd be such a solid framing for the season, I have no idea why they didn't mess with the order so it actually flowed well, they had a solid s1, it was cohesive, what are we doing now??? Like, Mark holding back after he killed a guy would make PERFECT sense! Cecil having the ammo about future!Mark leaving a tyrant in charge giving credit to his concerns, while Mark has the very same ammo about GDA incidentally making a whole new villain, LIKE IT COULD HAVE WORKED BEAUTIFULLY. Now they both have solid points! Now there's a buildup on both sides, souring the respective dynamic on both sides.

Oliver opening about what he remembers and thinks, and having Debbie counter about her opinion on Nolan would've been GREAT! POV'S! Counter POV'S! WHY THE FUCK DON'T WE GET DEBBIE'S OPINION??? Like, okay, if we're going to have Debbie raising Oliver, which fuck that noise oh my god, please can we not, Mark is so single teen Dad coded, please, it'd give him even more issues, I'd never wanted to throw a child at someone so inexperienced, knowing it'd make him worse/not better.

If we're gonna have Oliver, and I feel like I can outright enjoy brat, low empathy Oliver, because that is interesting to explore! That's such a fun twist on a concept of a young hero! Like, it's a young, eager hero who fundamentally has to learn how to empathize, which only demonstrates how Nolan and Vitrum Empire, do not have do the shit they do, if they just bothered to care about others. Oliver has so much potential to be compelling, not only on his own, but compared to others, and AGAIN, if he used to say something about Debbie and Mark! Let him view Nolan harshly because Debbie does, and he picks up on it! The lost potential for Oliver will always make me violently ill, I'll be dry heaving on the pavement at the very thought. You rob me??? You rob me of the arc of a super powered child learning to care about not killing people, that a three going on twelve year old can learn something an entire empire refuse to????? JAIL. FUCKING JAIL. The potential for Oliver learn restraint while Mark is consumed by the very thought of killing others, the contrast of Mark's guilt + desperation and Oliver's apathy + annoyance, how they could be two extremes that need to strike a balance!

Like, again, excellent points here because why should Debbie's dating history go from nearly colonizing asshole, certified supervillain, to the blandest man who needs to be coddled. Like, if she must date, give her someone more interesting? Or, better yet, let her have fucking friends?

AND YES THANK YOU? I am so fucking bewildered Debbie not mean to him. We have Mark shouting at Oliver, fucking stumbling on even explaining why killing is wrong, and I am screaming NO, you have Debbie be screaming, shouting, disappointment so palpable it fucking stings. She would see Nolan in him and be repulsed, maybe even guilty so, and Oliver notices. Like, yes, she shouldn't be mean to him, he doesn't deserve that, but she should be able to think about she also shouldn't have to raise Nolan's affair baby, because she doesn't deserve that either. Let her sit in a boiling resentment, leaking in sharp remarks and little patience, that fucking explodes when Oliver is a pro-murdering child. I know in my soul Mark would spoil that child, at least I find it interesting to explain Oliver being a brat is by Mark spoiling the shit outta Oliver, guilt driven because gimme guilt magnet Mark back, while Debbie is more distant or resentful. LIKE IT IS DESERVED. IT WOULD BE DRAMA. IT WOULD BE INTERESTING. IT WOULD GIVE HER SOMETHING. LIKE GODDAMN WHY IS SHE SO COOL WITH THIS??????

Like have Mark and Debbie's CONTRASTING reactions show and impact Oliver, so he SAYS something about them, while also having his own thing going on. Have Oliver realize Debbie is sharp, and open about how she dislikes Nolan, how rightly fucking betrayed she feels, insulted and wounded, while Mark is quiet, or even romanticizing Nolan, cherry picking stories to share, because he's not ready to unpack everything Nolan has done, let alone that he was used like a battering ram, or so proven to be EASILY replaceable. Have Mark grab onto the good parts of Nolan like a fucking life line, because he is not ready to think about what he went through, while also avoiding trying to be like him. And then have Debbie be angry and resentful, and also guilty but shows in a completely different way, maybe she's more external, she bites back at Cecil/GDA, like you said in another post, why didn't you guys figure out what he was going to do? While Mark is conflicted, contradictory, he's blaming himself and closing his eyes. Have Debbie be casually reckless and bold, with a bitterness or sharpness that Oliver picks up, so if he's a little sharp mouthed prick, it comes from somewhere and says something about her.

I've told you, I can go off about Oliver for hours, because he is GREAT OPPORTUNITY that they actively spit on AND FOR FUCKING WHAT. He can say something about Debbie, about Mark, about the whole fucking Empire + Nolan, but NO. FUCK ME I GUESS. Thinking about powerplex to calm me down and it's not working, I will join you in bashing head against wall. hnghhhhhhhh.

Begging Invincible saved the budget and will be fun. Like, please. Guys please. PLEASE. I am once again asking for episode 6, 7, 8 to save me, spare my sanity, have mercy.

DEBBIE AND POWER PLEX WOULD GO CRAZY. You see I have Mark Grayson in my mind at all times, and unsurprisingly, I see nothing else but my pookie of the year. BUT THIS IS GOLD. Like, it can tie into so much we've talked about too. her being pissed someone screaming asshole interrupted an important moment of mourning, of remembering such a wretched day just to blame her fucking son, not even Nolan, plus for having the audacity to ruin this, and knowing Cecil can't let her get hurt and the fact she's casually reckless anyway, marches fucking forward and shouts at him. Nolan Grayson, Omni-Man was her husband and she isn't threatening people about it, she lost everything, had it ripped away from her, pummeled into the ground six feet under, life shot in the fucking chest and she had to keep going, but do you see her throwing the most ridiculous tantrum you've ever seen? If it gets recorded somehow, that's how other villains know Debbie Grayson was Omni-Man's husband, GDA/Cecil stop the news from spreading too far, but it trickles down the grape vine until villainous partners/exes know, and boom, My Exe Tried To Take Over the World Club invites! I just want it so bad. Or maybe Art tells her about it, mister hero/villain/vigilante network, IDK I WANT IT.

Let Debbie be mean. Let her be bitter and bold and resentful and guilty and angry, LET HER BEEEEE. LET HER SNAP AND BE RECKLESS AND BE FOUL. Like yes, let her be a fucking menace, certified, verified, Problem, there's powerful people in her corner, and a gray morality Debbie would be incredible! I'm due for a re-watch, proper, and not seeing the Mark and Nolan battle again for the 238928392th time lol, but her telling him to make choices he can live with is EPIC. It's swerves around that power-responsibly mindset, and says do what you want to do, and can live with. Whatever that is. Truly let us get a sequel to that conversation!!! How does it change!!!

Eve business thing just gave me more questions. Like, girl, first of all you can print yourself some money if you wanted to, you can make gold, you could make diamonds, expensive products, and sell that, and be set for life. But, so skipping out the GDA does have consequences and the consequence are not getting paid then, no? Why not??? Say that?? Earlier??? ALSO YEAH? How are they qualified for any government contracts? That's a government contract. Like, truly let them have to job through hoops to even get it! Job interviews, professionalism, and exhausting tasks to get there, or even apply. Outright have him be rejected for shaky public image. Mark make decisions challenge. Mark what do you want to do??

TRULY WHERE IS MY CHARACTER DRAMA? Where's my character conflict, that's compelling? Where's Debbie, the real one, idk who this new lady is? Also why the fuck is Rae quitting? Why isn't that Kate? Like what the fuck. Why ISN'T that Kate's thing, and she goes to see her brother and tell him she quit, and that's when we learn about him? Also, GDA using you is again a conversation for Mark to have! Stick Mark in that convo oh my goood. Heck, have Mark overhear or have that kind of convo before or after Cecil confrontation, to give further ammo for the conflict, or stop him from regretting it if he does!

Truly why are we ignoring the fact she actually quit and let EVERYONE, apparently including her brother, think she was dead? Is that not crazy???? WHERE'S THE DRAMA IN THIS? WHEREEEEEE.

Powerplex save me, episode 6 save meeeee (╥﹏╥) What happened to my shooooow.

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[tinycurlyfry]

Heart Pirates Week Day 1 - Jean Bart - Cursed

[deceitfulcharmer]

⚔—;; The tips of Megatron’s claws tapped rhythmically between Starscream’s wings, rolling from pinky to index finger and then over again. The soft noise was scarcely audible over the sound of the Seeker’s vents, but he knew he’d be able to feel it well enough.

“Pity.” He let out a long vent, slowly moving his servo back down the length of that thigh, towards the knee, but didn’t let up on his hold. He wanted Starscream to feel his teasing caress as he mused aloud: “That may have been interesting…”

A laugh escaped him once more, though harsher this time, as though he could scarcely believe what he was hearing.

“Gentle? What about me requires a gentle touch, Starscream? I did not rise from the pits of Kaon to be coddled.”

Still, there was the nagging thought at the back of his mind that the touches they had exchanged until this point hadn’t been unpleasant. How long had it been since his frame—built to take severe punishment—had been touched like this? He could still feel the phantom grasp of long claws around his forearm, feel them splayed across his broad chassis, framing the symbol that united them.

Trust…

When had been the last time he had truly trusted Starscream? Had he ever? Perhaps there was some sense in the Seeker’s ramblings. They worked well together when they moved towards the same end, and it brought him untold frustration that it wasn’t their default state.

“You speak of me putting trust in you, yet you do not trust the very hands on your frame, do you? Should this not go both ways?” He met Starscream’s gaze with a familiar intensity, boring deep as though he could see into the Seeker’s very spark like this.

Finally, he lifted his servo from Starscream’s thigh, only to capture his wrist and bring his hand over the centre of his chest, where the pulse of his spark could be felt. Something burned in his sensor net, a desire to continue these touches.

“I’ve seen you end many lives with these claws, and I have allowed you to touch me without reproach thus far.” He paused for a moment, considering his next move. “Perhaps this could be a mutual exercise in trust in itself; proof that we can both be ‘gentle’, when the situation calls.”

Mischief teased at his good conscious. The opportunity was ripe, them being so close, Megatron within reach for anything the Seeker could imagine. Though such passions were short-lived once a single servo gripped the entirety of a skinny thigh, respectfully reminding him that any fearless act of disobedience may as well cost him his life.

There was a prolonged pause, ruby optics focused on the contact between them, and a processor slowly picking apart the sort of disastrous situation he placed himself in. It was then he felt the foreign heat of the missing servo slotted nicely between all the wings, the appendages tapping lightly over that broad forearm. Even his frame expression stalled; totally and utterly trapped.

" Oh nononono, no, it ISN'T what you think !! " The servos lifted off of the one they beheld, hovered, then promptly returned to squeeze into the side of his palm once more.

What did he want Megatron to think?

He was fighting his better nature here. Starscream did not want to appear weak, especially after all that talk — not that there was anything to be weak about. His gaze refused to be anywhere else but locked onto his lordship's in a final stab of self-assuredness. There existed no true peril other than the total embarrassment the Seeker felt at being so loose with his reactions; him being his own enemy at the end of it all.

" I just— " He swears his processor skips a track, derailing all clever thoughts he could have had, " I'm just proving you can— trust me to be... "

" Gentle with you. "

Actually, worry not, Megatron, he will take himself out with his own servos.

" That is something no one else can give you, " it must be his imagination, but he swears he hears a bell tolling, " —and it is exceedingly scarce to... have... such a thing. Especially from someone you can learn to trust. " A tight smile, a soft brush over the back of Megatron's servo.

' Primus, if you can hear me— '

[kaurwreck]

as a Japanese fan of bsd you’ve hit the nail on the head to why i hate this fandoms tendency to go with the “oh it’s so disrespectful to the authors” bc yea it’s my hatred of Japanese nationalism and its agenda to portray their cultural exports as untouchable…it also feels infantilizing in the sense where they can’t picture asagiri doing transformative critique of his country’s “classics” and they are adopting that very same idolatry of Japan

It's also such a flaccid, insincere interpretation of respect that is itself inherently dehumanizing. There is nothing untouchable, and substituting discernment for fawning is much worse than being superficially disrespectful, especially when the subject of your disrespect cannot possibly perceive it, and the only beneficiaries of your deference are states, institutions, and ideological concepts.

I've noticed people tend to strip agency and conscious commentary from Asagiri too. It is exceptionally infantilizing.

[starvinginbelair]

as a criminology student, i would honestly love to read an comics arc about the role of the police in vigilantism because i just think it's under-discussed for such a nuanced and complex topic.

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

i have thought of 1 (one) pro to this whole housing situation and i’m clinging onto it for dear life

[sageshouldknowbetter]

Some may be apprehensive that Severance won’t portray Mark’s interaction with Helena in the tent as the sexual assault it was. But not only will they — they already are.

Mark’s behavior toward Helly has completely changed. He doesn’t sit next to her at Irving’s funeral. He shuts down attempts at conversation with offhand, vague snarky comments and a defiantly blank facial expression. When Helly knocks on the door to the bathroom, his eyes dart around like an animal cornered. Where he once would have slowed down for her in the hallway so they could talk, he walks much faster ahead. He’s trying as hard as possible to avoid her. To ignore her. To run away.

Now contrast this with his treatment of “Helly” when she first walked out of the elevator in season two. He waited for her to arrive! He was so relieved she’d come back! And when they were walking down that hallway and he was explaining the situation with Ms. Casey, he stopped mid-stride, turned to her with a smile on his face, and said “Look, Helly—“

He never got to finish that sentence. But some say he was going to confess that though his outie had a wife, his affections lay with her. And I think they’re right.

So why is he acting so differently now? The answer is obvious: “Because they are smarter than us, okay? They know everything.”

After the assault, Mark likely feels like a complete idiot. He spent so much of season one deconstructing his beliefs and breaking free from Lumon’s propaganda. And the minute he believes he’s immune to their lies and no longer a corporate slave, he is taken advantage of and hoodwinked by the very figurehead of said company, masking as someone he loves.

A symbol of Lumon convinced him he was safe. Tricked him. Invaded him in the most intimate way possible, with him completely oblivious, “like an idiot.” Right when he thought everything might be okay.

So maybe Lumon’s right. Maybe there’s no point in fighting. Because if he was stupid enough to not realize his own friend was being possessed by her billionaire doppelgänger, then maybe Lumon is correct about innies being nothing more than pawns. Maybe they are people, and he really is… not. (That’s how Helena treated him, anyway.)

And if that’s the case, of course he wants to give up looking for Ms. Casey and lose himself in work! For a moment he thought he was a human being, deserving of autonomy over his own body and capable of something more than sitting behind a desk — but his assault sends that all crashing down. He is an extension of his outie, made for work and nothing more. Going beyond that gets dangerous. That’s what got Irving killed… and him in Helena’s tent. And Helly? He cannot trust Helly. As far as he knows, his only confirmed moment with Helly since the OTC was when he was holding her in his arms, his jacket wrapped around her shoulders. Why should it be Helly coming back to the severed floor? If Helena could trick him before, who says she can’t learn from her past mistakes and trick him again over and over? Mark refuses to be humiliated and hurt after last time, so he avoids her (and Dylan!) and puts up a barrier of cool, snarky indifference — just like how he deals with grief.

But we know that indifference is a mask. When Milchick walked out of the elevator after revealing he knew about him and Helena Eagan, Mark had no one to pretend for — and he went completely stiff, blankly wide-eyed in an expression extremely reminiscent of his usual innie self. Whatever the reasons for this, one thing’s for sure: Mark does deeply care about what happened in the tent. And at least for now, he will lose himself in Cold Harbor to cope with it.

Lumon certainly got their productive worker back. But good Lord… at what cost?

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.