#I’m not great at writing stuff like this but I genuinely am sorry about all of this

[scoops-aboy86]

Secret Admirer

Steddie Week 2024, July 1: Mystery / secret relationship / One Night Alone by Vixen

wc: 2131 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

cw: negative self talk (steve), allusions to unhealthy use of drugs and alcohol (eddie), and one horny paragraph

In the first few letters, Eddie had tried to disguise his handwriting. It occurred to him after a while, though, that there would be no reason for someone like Steve Harrington to recognize it, so he stopped. And he was right, nothing happened. 

Steve hasn’t figured out the secret admirer letters he kept answering were written by none other than the official Freak of Hawkins High. Hell, Steve hasn’t even worked out that he’s a he. Though a few vaguely worded sentences every now and then suggest that Steve might not be assuming she either, which is…interesting. Possibly nothing, but interesting all the same. And Eddie knows he’s probably just stringing himself along by doing this, but he’s about to repeat his senior year of high school for the third goddamn time and this is a better option than drinking or dipping into the harder stuff that Reefer Rick expects him to sell. Broken heart likely, but at least he doesn’t wake up with a headache or the shakes.

Now it’s well into summer, and the PO Box he’d had since he was sixteen (for Blueboys and other mags that would get him equally tarred and feathered if anyone finds out) gets mail every damn day.

Eddie looks down at the most recent letter, rereading it for the hundredth time with a joint in one hand, several empty beer cans littering the bedspread and floor of his room around him. 

Dear Secret Admirer, Hey, I’m sorry if I came on too strong in my last couple of letters. I get why you don’t want to tell me who you are. We probably went to high school together, right? You don’t write like a middle schooler and no one who graduates sticks around in this stupid town besides me. I guess that makes me stupid means you probably knew me when I was still a douchebag. Sorry about that. I hope I never said anything to you or let Tommy push you around. Except I don’t know why you would’ve started writing to me in the first place if I had? It’s not like I would’ve written back if I was still that popular guy who everyone talked to and thought was so cool. Yeah, I admit it, I thought I was hot shit back then too! But it turns out, they only give you the spotlight as long as you don’t put a toe out of line. Don’t point out when they’re being assholes. You wouldn’t believe the kind of shit some people will say when they think you already agree with them about everything.  Anyway, I’m trying to be better now. Genuinely, if I’m not, if I’ve been an asshole in these letters at all, please tell me. And it’s not like I’m tired of writing to you, I just. Wouldn’t getting to talk in person be even better? Or we don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to, that’s okay! You can come by Scoops and tell me it’s you and I’ll give you a free ice cream cone or something, whatever you want. Because actions speak louder than words, right? You keep sending me all these nice letters, and I’m not the best with words so I want to give you something too. (I don’t mean that like That wasn’t a come-on, I swear. Shit, I should rewrite this again but this is already the fifth draft, it’s not getting any better than this. Sorry.) — Steve PS, I don’t know if you have been to Scoops already, but if you’ve seen my coworker’s whiteboard I swear I’m not interested just because I keep striking out. Turns out I don’t actually know how to talk to girls without being weird. It’s weird being done with high school and not have that stuff in common to talk about, and I used to be this cool guy that I’m really not anymore so I panic and all this bullshit (who am I kidding) bullshit comes out my mouth and it’s EMBARRASSING. Anyway. I really like your letters, it’s been great having someone to talk to even if it’s not really talking a face to face thing, and I’m not just saying that because I’m kind of a loser now. Anyway, have a nice day! Fuck, Robin is right, I SUCK

The first bullshit in the postscript is crossed out so hard there’s a tear in the paper. All the scribbled out bits are borderline illegible, like Steve really tried, but Eddie can still make out most of it and can guess the rest from context. The very last word, for example, is totally obscured, but he has seen the You Rule / You Suck board, so. Yeah.

It makes his heart ache, the way Steve talks about himself sometimes. The way his insecurities bleed through artlessly on the page like coffee stains. Eddie alternates between wanting to wrap him up in soft things to protect him from whatever sharpness left him so cut open, and wanting to smother him with kisses for the bravery in being so genuine with a nameless, faceless stranger. 

Except Steve isn’t his. Steve is straight, for all he’s apparently being kind enough not to make assumptions, and could never want Eddie in the same way. And it’s not fair, the hanging back that Eddie’s been doing, holding out now that Steve has come to look forward to his letters just because of a little (huge, massive, life-threatening) fear of rejection. 

He’s been dragging his heels so long that Steve is feeling rejected, and that just won’t do. 

Sighing, Eddie takes another long drag before stubbing the remaining nub of the joint out. Scrubs his hands across his face and considers getting another beer. Or maybe forgetting the corner he’s backed himself into, with Steve wanting to meet—not only to satisfy the curiosity of knowing who his secret admirer is, but because he actually seems to like the person writing to him. (Actually wrote that they didn’t have to talk if Eddie didn’t want to, Jesus H. Christ, why did he have to be such a fucking sweetheart about that?) 

It’s late, and he’s already stripped restlessly down to just his boxers for bed. He could push it all aside, push his hands down the front of his underwear and get lost in different thoughts about Steve for a while, for the trillionth time. God knows that always works to clear his head, sometimes twice if he’s ambitious about it, enough for sleep to take him. 

Instead, Eddie drops the letter on his bed and hunts around on his desk for a notebook he can stand to tear a few more pages out of. Once he has what he needs, he chews on the end of his pen for several minutes  before putting it to the paper.

Steve, my beloved, It has been some time since I’ve replied. My deepest apologies for that, as it seems like you’ve taken that to mean something I absolutely did not intend. I received all of your letters, and “too strong” is not how I would describe them. They were lovely, sweetheart. I have reread them many times, I have slept with them under my pillow, I have cried happy tears over them for the thought that you might actually share my affection enough to want so badly to know who I am.  Very quickly, to address some of your questions and concerns: One, we did share some years in high school, yes, and I’m pleased to read that you think my writing is at a level appropriate to someone approximately our age. (I wish more of my teachers shared that view, but alas, I’m pretty sure that most of them hate me. Except for the drama teacher, who would let me get away with murder as long as I didn’t stain or break any of his props with the act.) Two, Hagan was a dick, but more to my friends than me directly, and the worst you ever did was laugh when I dropped my books a few times, that sort of thing. Water under the bridge, fuck high school, etc. etc.. Three, you have not engaged in any assholery in your writing, or in any of your actions that I’ve seen in a long time.  And four… you should’ve left the double entendre (i.e. the “I want to give you something too”); I wouldn’t have minded.  Obviously I think of you as prime boyfriend material—thoughtful, good sense of humor and humility, and whenever those younger kids swing by to pester you at the mall you put up a good front of being exasperated and annoyed, but through all that I can tell you care about them. (They say never trust someone who would hurt an animal, it works for kids too.)  But you’re also a total smoke show, baby. The effortless way you moved around the basketball court, same as in the water when you were still on the swim team, and in those indecently tiny shorts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about running my fingers up the inside of those thighs. Or my mouth. Whichever you think you’d like best, baby, I’m not picky. And while I do like ice cream, particularly strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a cone, I can think of something else I’d love to wrap my hand around and run my tongue over before any drips can escape. You just think about that, hmm? Maybe share some of those thoughts in your reply, if I haven’t scared you off with this paragraph.  It was a relief to write that, to be honest. I am not without my fantasies, you see; in a lot of ways, they’re all I have. The real reason I’ve been hesitant to respond to all of your heartfelt entreaties to meet, sweetheart, is that I’m afraid. I’ve been head over heels for you for so long—for your looks before anything else, I’ll admit, but the douchebag boy from high school that you mentioned is long gone. A man stands in his place, and what a man you are. In writing to you, I wanted to make clear first and foremost how ardently I admire and love you, lest my feelings be mistaken for mere tawdry teen lust.  And hopefully I’ve succeeded. If so, can you see now how actions can be carved in with the words? It is the intent that shines through, and I can read in between the lines, Steve, that you are being genuinely honest with yours. All those disparaging remarks you made about yourself in your last letter, both crossed out and not, are probably you being too hard on yourself, but they speak to the fact that you both understand you’ve made mistakes in the past and are trying to pay penance for them. That, along with your fantastic hair and magnificent ass, are just a few of the reasons I remain, as always— Your Secret Admirer P.S. I don’t mind weird. Like it, even. Bring it on, big boy.  P.P.S.  If all I could ever have with you is one night alone, I’d take it and be grateful.

Eddie’s letter is almost twice as long as Steve’s, but whatever. That’s par for the course; he never expected Steve to be much of a wordsmith, even though the guy is clearly putting in a lot of effort. Writes drafts, apparently. Unlike Eddie, who bangs all that out in pretty much one go and merely skims it before sliding it in an envelope, sealing it in, slapping on a stamp and address, and throwing it off the bed. 

Then he falls into bed and strips his dick to the thought of Steve reading the letter and thinking about his mouth, half in a hot anonymous way and half in some imaginary reality where Steve knows it’s him and wants this just as badly. Of Steve groaning out how good it feels and maybe wanting to hold him after, fall asleep together, like they’re…

The next morning (or afternoon, whatever, it’s summer vacation), Eddie reviews his slightly fuzzy memory of the letter after stepping on the envelope and realizing, oh, right. Overly verbose and dramatic, the way he always is but even more so when tipsy. And… fuck it. One horny paragraph, he decides, won’t be the end of the world. Maybe it will scare Steve off; maybe he’ll enjoy it. Let fate decide, just like at the dnd table. 

Eddie shoves the envelope into the mail drop box just outside the trailer park gate on his way into town and sends a prayer out to no god in particular that he hasn’t just rolled a nat one.

~

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

Tagging some folks who expressed interest about this story in my Wiggly Wednesday post last week, let me know if you don't want to be tagged going forward: @steviewashere @cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve

@rozzieroos @lunaraindrop @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice  carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

[foone]

(Sorry if this sounds mean) If you’re ace why are you looking for mind control erotica? This isn’t a bad faith question, as someone who’s aro but not ace I’m genuinely curious. Maybe expounding on it would help your followers point you at new things?

Also have you read Human Domestication Guide? It’s very mind controlly, though it does have pet stuff if you hate that or whatever.

Short answer: it's complicated.

So to answer in reverse order: I have read some HDG stories: not enough to remember what I read, but in general I like them. And petplay doesn't bother me. So I'll probably read more in future, it's just that it never triggered that "I should read all of this!" urge in me. Which isn't an indicator of how much I like it/the quality of it, that's just a thing that sometimes happens to my brain.

As for why I'm reading mind control erotica despite being asexual... It's complicated (as you might guess).

Basically I'm asexual in the "not attracted to men or women (or anything else/between)" sense. I don't experience sexual attraction, at all.

But that's only one part of sexuality. It may be the primary part for allosexuals, but it obviously can't be for me. I'm still interested in some sexual things, and I'm interested in them for sexual reasons, but it's just that those reasons are never "this person is hot" or "this sex is hot".

Like, not to give a complete listing of my kinks or anything, consider basic rope bondage as a fetish. You could look at the fetish from multiple angles:

It's sexy getting tied up, because of the physical sensation of being tied up.

It's sexy to be tied up, because you don't have control.

It's sexy to tie someone up, because of how they look tied up.

It's sexy to have someone tied up, because you have control and they don't.

It's sexy to have sex while tied up, because you can't resist it (in the scene. This is fantasy, there are safewords)

It's sexy to fuck someone tied up, because they can't resist (in the scene, fantasy, safewords)

And then in fiction you can do the last two minus the watsonian-bdsm: it's not a scene. (I won't discuss this further because discourse)

Only 5 and 6 really need sex itself to be a part of it. You can have the eroticism of bondage and no one has sex, or needs to be attracted to anybody.

I don't have a huge amount of experience here, but from what I've heard this isn't that uncommon in the bdsm community: there's plenty of people who show up at bdsm events solely for "non-sexual" tying/getting tied.

Anyway, once you understand that you can have a kink (even one that seems sexual) for reasons other than sexual attraction/sex* itself, you can probably see why an asexual person might still want to read about it.

Also there's elements of, like, exploration of personal impossibilities? As jms said:

So I cannot forgive. Which makes the notion of writing a character who CAN forgive momentarily attractive...because it allows me to explore in great detail something of which I am utterly incapable. I cannot fly, so I would write of birds and starships and kites; I cannot play an instrument, so I would write of composers and dancers; and I cannot forgive, so I would write of priests and monks and Minbari...

It can be interesting reading stories of people doing things you can't for reasons you never experience, obeying urges you don't have.

* "sex" is also a difficult thing to define, because especially in BDSM terms it gets very fuzzy. What things count as sex? Generally when I say like "they're spending too much time on the sex" or "the mind control is just an excuse to get to the sex", I'm defining sex as something like "some kind of insertion/licking/vibrating for sexual purposes", when many allosexuals (especially, uhh... What's the word for non-bdsm people? Them) would define it more narrowly, and many BDSM kinksters would define it more widely, including a lot of the things I'm not here: I've heard people call getting tied up or impact play as sex, for example.

Anyway you'd think this sort of perspective I've got on erotic fiction, where I'm here for the non-sex sexual fetish things, would be more common? After all, I'm talking about literature here. I tend to associate the allosexual attraction urge as a visual thing: this person looks sexy, so you experience sexual attraction towards them.

I can see how that'd work if you're talking about visual mediums: movies and photos of real people, even drawn images, but this is just words. I guess maybe people without aphantasia can imagine how someone looks from their description, and can experience some attraction based on that? I don't know. I've never really experienced attraction to written characters, so I can't say how it works. Feel free to enlighten me, anyone who does.

But you can definitely tell reading erotica which stories are "this is a sexy story because it has sexy people in it doing sexy things (sometimes kinkily)" and which are "this kink is the primary focus: any sex they have is in service of the kink, or is just a momentary distraction from the kink". I prefer the latter, by far.

Anyways, I think maybe I'm giving everyone a slightly misleading impression of how much I'm into mind control. It's more that I've found a few stories that actually were interesting to me for a couple reasons (first person submissive perspective, rules-based mind control, some worldbuilding) and then I've been looking for other stories that explore the same ideas as well (or better: the particular ones I liked had a little too much bimboification focus for me, which isn't one of my kinks) and failing. Thus I complain a lot about not being able to find the sort of stories I want.

Which, you know, makes sense? I'm an asexual reading through porn. Despite my explanation in this post, this is still not a great fit for me, so of course I'm disappointed. It'd be like if I was scrolling through a football site and not liking football, complaining about how much sports focus this site has. It's a little silly, you know?

But I'm a lot silly, so I continue.

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Hello, good morning/afternoon/night.

(this was written with a translator, in case there are spelling errors)

First of all I want to tell you that I adore everything you write and the way you do it.

And second, could I place an order?

I'm still learning how to use Tumblr, so I don't know how to do several things and I don't know if I'm writing this where I should.

I hope it doesn't bother you ir make you feel Uncomfortable!!

Lately I have had some situations in which a...family member...in an indirect and at the same time direct way has told me that I am...overweight/fat...and that has made me feel bad, so only if you want, could you make some headcanon about how Undertale, Underswap, Underfell and Horrortale would react to me believing that.

(I mean, they would deny it and say nice things or they would laugh and make fun of me for it and highlight having a double chin and a belly and stuff like that...)

But of course, if you don't want, of course it's not necessary or if it seems like there are too many characters, you can remove them or if you want ignore this and I'll understand.

Thank you for taking the time to read this!

anon, i’m so sorry this happened to you <3 it’s unfair and nobody should have to go through that.

readers gender isn’t specified, but i use “beautiful” and “gorgeous”

Undertale, Underfell, underswap, and horrortale skelebros reacting to a reader who has been fat-shamed

Undertale:

Sans:

-his brow bones would furrow

-“wait a minute, who said that?”

-he’d nod when you tell him

-“listen, they’re wrong. you’re beautiful as you are. now, i don’t want you starting any diets or anything if they would just make you unhappy, because i’ve heard plenty of stories about them being terrible. your family members just plain wrong. ‘kay?”

-he’d hug you if you were still upset

-from then on, he would tell you how gorgeous you were more often

papyrus:

-he would be even more upset than you were, honestly

-someone would DARE say such nasty things about HIS s/o / friend??

-he would storm to their house, knock on the door, and that man WOULD. NOT. BUDGE. until your family member listened to him.

-he would be harsh but obviously be nice about it

underfell:

Sans:

-why do you give a fuck???

-he’s honestly so confused

-like, his brother told him the same thing (which also confused him, seeing as he is a SKELETON) and he just?? didn’t care??

-he tells you to stop giving a fuck

-that’s it

-“why do you give a shit about what they say? their opinions are ass. you look great”

papyrus:

-he doesn’t look up from his book when you say that

-“mm. you could stand to lose a few pounds, i guess”

-(you don’t think he quite realized how hurtful that is)

-if you tell him he’d ask why

-he thinks he’s genuinely looking out for your best interests.

underswap:

sans:

-“they told you WHAT!?”

-he would be FUMING with anger

-but, he would calm himself down enough to reassure you

-he would tell you that you look amazing, and you shouldn’t start a diet that you wouldn’t enjoy just to conform to their standards of beautiful or healthy.

-he would talk to the family member afterwards, angrier than he would normally like to be when resolving a conflict

-you never hear those words from your family member again, trust me

papyrus:

-“fuck ‘em”

-you appear slightly offended that he would say something like that about your family member, so he elaborates

-“they want to police you on how traditionally beautiful or healthy you are. you were happy before that, but now their words have upset you, for something that didn’t need said in the first place. so, fuck ‘em. that’s an asshole move”

-he would not argue this with you

horrortale:

Sans:

-hes so fucking confused

-where he’s from, food is a scarcity, and your family’s bitching about “too much?”

-he contacts your family member, whether that be finding their address from your address book or by finding their phone number on your phone, and gives him a piece of his mind.

-he would rant for HOURS if he could, or if he could keep his train of thought for that long, about how lucky they are for having food in the first place.

-afterwards he would encourage you about how beautiful you are, and how wrong your family member is

papyrus:

-he would look at you with concern

-overweight?

-he won’t pretend to be an expert on human weight, but even if you are “overweight,” that’s a good thing! it means you have access to food!

-that’s SO special to him.

-he would tell you that no matter what your family member thought, you were BEAUTIFUL

-he would be happy to talk to your family member if you wanted him to

[pickypickypeak]

thoughts on descendants the rise of red ig.. don’t take this too seriously because sorry this movie can’t be taken too seriously (affectionate) some spoilers below

Bad. Bad movie. I say this with a broken heart. Descendants movies always had dcom level of writing but descendants 3 is a masterpiece in comparison

Feels like they tried to shrink a 10 book saga into 1 tv show episode

Too Many Characters, just as I predicted. Especially with this screentime you can’t allow yourself THIS many characters. The promos made it look like they all had roles in the movie but most of them feel like cameos when they have zero to one lines like wtf

How To Waste Brandy And Rita Ora

(I loved brandy in this. Like more than I expected. She was great. Still wasted tho)

I hate how much trap they put in this? TOO MUCH TRAP!!! Only lin manuel miranda should be allowed to use rap in musicals!! Jokes aside I liked bridget and ella’s songs the most. The other ones were… not bad just… not it for me

That homage in the beginning actually made me shed a tear. That was genuinely nice. China delivered it perfectly I love her I’m glad she returned

They addressed mal and company’s absence I liked that

The plot of this movie genuinely Makes No Sense. It’s useless to even start. How am I supposed to believe all these disney characters went in high school together😭 it’s not even about plotholes and stuff like this but what do you mean cinderella was in school of magic with her fairy godmother LMAO also aladdin and jasmine being in high school have you watched aladdin

I will not get over the villain group being so weird because it is composed of 1. Actual teen villains, 2. A villain’s sister (WHY NOT USE URSULA AND WHERE IS SHE IN THE PRESENT), 3. Morgana le fay’s son yeah you guessed it not a disney character but don’t worry! None of them does anything during the whole movie

Maleficent and hades (2 main characters in the descendants universe) Just Exist, also hades (the god of the underworld) goes to high school as well

They kept their outfits and hair perfectly still throughout all the movie like cartoon characters I mean chloe literally sang a song called get your hand dirty and she was even cleaner after

I quite like how they showed young cinderella in her house with her stepmother? Lady tremaine was weirdly on point for some reason

They actually changed the past and it didn’t affect the present aside for bridget being good now? Then why is she in the same spot as she was the first time if she doesn’t become evil queen of wonderland also shouldn’t it affect major events but most importantly why do I even care

I think this is it..

[celestie0]

First time asker but long time reader 😭 I’m sorry that you got that shitty ask. It’s such a weird fucking thing to ask someone “hey when are you making these two fuck?” like… does that not feel weird to type out?

The gojo x reader tag has at least 5 explicit smut fics minimum daily, go read through those if you genuinely need sex in everything you read (it’s time to reflect on the porn addiction you have).

Regardless, I’ve been reading your fics on Ao3 and I absolutely LOVE the banter between gojo and reader 😭 it flows so fucking well I can feel the chemistry radiating from my screen. When I first started reading IHM, I was also an ancient hag like reader (29) so I found myself able to really relate to her. Usually when I envision Y/N, it’s a random person in their place but with this fic specifically idk why I lowkey insert myself? Everything she does, I would probably do the same and it makes me nervous (in a good way) that I’m gonna get attached to gojo and y/n’s relationship 😭

I absolutely love how gojo provides the security Y/N so desperately needs in the span of the fic. She has been suffocating on her own for so long that he just provides some fresh air. Dare I say meant to be?

The domesticity is everything and I like how we’re learning more about him alongside Y/N. So far we’ve seen just how supportive gojo has been and I’m excited to see how y/n comes through for him because my spidey senses (and your amazing writing) shows me that he has some baggage and it might resurface soon.

The build up to them realizing they love each other is making me giggle and kick my feet. I will happily eat whatever you feed us, thank you for sharing your writing with us. You absolutely have a talent for writing and fleshing out characters/relationships.

I appreciate you and will do my best to support you vocally from here on out 🥹 have a great week pls!

hi my love!! first of all thank you SO much for this supportive message, i srs teared up when i read it 😭 idk if that’s embarrassing to admit lololdjfsdfh but yea omg yesterday was rough so i can’t tell u how much it means to me

i agree on the porn addict thing omg like i love smut as much as the next person, but likeee to go into an author inbox after they just posted a 14k chap of their fic n say “are we gonna get smut soon?” like 💀 that’s sortaaaaa. i’m getting porn addiction vibes

aaaaaaaa i’m so happy you’re enjoying the banter in ihm :’’) and that you’re able to see yourself in reader’s shoes!! that’s such a wonderful thing n one of the aims of my writing ♥️ ♥️ also pls 29 is not ancient hag oml i mean there will be lots of rhetoric in ihm where reader thinks she’s old but like ultimately i want the message of the series to be that it’s never too late to start over and find happiness & joy :) i think that really applies to everything and everyone. and ahhh yes there will be some pretty angst stuffs BUT there will be happy ending <33

yes ihm gojo def got some baggage 😂😂 i need my men like that LOL. but thank you so much for being excited to see how reader comes through for him as well!! i know she’s going through a lot on her own, and that can sometimes cause her to neglect the things outside of her…but i think she has capacity to really be there for him too

oh my dear i really am so lucky to have you as a long time reader and i’m so grateful to hear your thoughts, but also please send them whenever you want to and without pressure <33 i will eat it tf up if/when you do but yea xD never feel burdened to! you have a wonderful week as well omg imma eat u fr

[smoshygayness]

Thought I would write something cute and fluffy🫠 dunno if I’m still able to do that 😂 I don’t even know if this have sense, but let’s try. (English it’s not my first language, hope it’s readable)

They were just about to finish recording the angry letter video and Ian was emotionally tired. He had to be composed and not show too much. He didn’t want to go emotional in front of all these people, and above all in front of Anthony because he knew that for him it was a hard time, reading all those things aloud. But that , for Ian, required lots of energy and mental strength.

He was tired of holding himself back. It was destroying his mental state again.

When they were done recording, he and Anthony headed toward Ian’s office. They needed to finish some stuff before going home so they decided to order some dinner since it was already late and they were starving. Ian was all of a sudden really quiet, all of his tension and tiredness was kicking in. He sat on his chair, closing his eyes for a bit, letting out a long breath. He then took his glasses off and his eyes focused on Anthony for a brief moment. He was taking his jacket off, mumbling something Ian didn’t quite catch. He looked genuinely happy and calm. Like he finally had the opportunity to let all his thoughts out. It’s not like they didn’t talk about their feelings after their reunion. Actually they talked a lot. About what was in their mind, about all those years apart from each other, about anything and everything . They promised to talk with each other about everything that comes on their mind. But Ian knew there was something he was intentionally not telling him. Maybe because he was afraid to open up that much. He’s always been afraid of expressing his feelings even though it was his best friend he was talking with. But he promised, so he had to be brave and tell Anthony everything that was on his mind because he didn’t want to ruin their friendship again.

His thoughts were interrupted as he saw Anthony moving closer to his chair.

“Hey man what do you want for dinner? I thought we might order something light for tonight since we have to wake up early tomorrow. I don’t wanna have trouble sleeping.”

Anthony said, looking at Ian while searching something good to eat on his delivery app.

“Mmm okay, I was thinking like a soup or something would be fine?”

Ian wasn’t really interested in the food anymore. He was actually starving when they left the studio, but now all he was thinking about was how to tell Anthony how he was feeling.

Meanwhile anthony was nodding at him, telling him that soup was a good idea and he was trying to choose which soup was better for them. But Ian wasn’t listening. He wasn’t listening when apparently Anthony did ask something to him.

“Are you there? Are you listening to me?”

Anthony’s waving hand in front of his face put him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah sorry I was just thinking. Anyway, that soup sounds great.” Gesturing towards the vegan one.

Anthony stared at Ian for a second, realizing something was up in his best friend’s head.

“Are you okay Ian?”

Ian was caught off guard, he didn’t expect Anthony to notice this quick his mood had change.

He let out a sigh and rubbed his face. He didn’t know where to start but he knew he couldn’t escape from this.

“Anthony I…I know that during the reading of the angry letter I’d never seriously express myself and it was like I was undervaluing what I was reading. But it’s not like this. I wanted you to know that even though I am so bad with emotions, I felt what you wrote on that journal. I was just trying no to break down during the recording. And it was hard not to do that.”

He pause just to see Anthony’s eyes watering. The sight of his friend crying, brought him on the edge and he found himself crying all the tears he wanted to cry that day. He immediately wiped his eyes, trying to calm himself down. With a not so steady voice, he kept with his trail of thoughts.

“I am so sorry for all the shit we’ve been through in the past. We were both so wrecked we didn’t even realize how bad we were hurting ourselves.”

His voice cracked, another tear drew a wet line on his pale skin.

“I know that during those past years I’d never took your feelings into consideration and I feel really bad for that. Because I know now that I was hurting you and I didn’t even realize back then because I was so inconsiderate and stupid. And blind…”

Ian felt Anthony’s hands on his shoulder, gently squeezing him. He didn’t even realized he had moved since now. He turned his head to met Anthony’s gaze and he was still crying, face all red and wet. But even with all those tears, he had a sweet smile on his face. He leaned closer to Ian and hugged him tight from behind. His arms around his neck.

Ian put his hands on Anthony’s, squeezing. He than stood up from his chair, facing Anthony.

“It’s okay”

Anthony softly said, gently wiping Ian’s tears. Ian closed his eyes, leaning in Anthony’s touch. The feeling of Anthony’s warm hand on his face was heartwarming.

“We both fuck up really bad, I fucked up really bad. It’s not your fault, we were both so emotionally unavailable and tired. We grew and learn from our mistakes and that’s the best thing that could have happened to us. And now we’re here. Stronger than before. Changed.”

Ian nodded and without even thinking about it, he found himself hugging Anthony. With all his strength. They stayed like that for what seemed like a lifetime and than they break the hug. They stared at each other smiling like idiots. Ian felt Anthony’s hand caressing his face, pulling back his hair just a little for him to kiss him on the forehead. Ian just melted into his touch, happy to finally be able to be more open with Anthony. It was all new and so good at the same time. It felt like a heavy weight on his chest just disappeared all of a sudden.

It was all he needed.

Anthony was all he needed.

He’s never been happier.

[myfairkatiecat]

as an actual person getting a degree in criticism of english literature, i'd like to say that you are completely entitled to your opinion and i am entirely thrilled to see discussion of literary theory in the kotlc fandom!!!! it's fantastic and i wish everyone engaged with the work like you are!!!

that being said, I do have some questions? problems? smth idk. for you. This is not an attack or anything like that, pure academic camaraderie and engagement. Literary theory shifts entirely based on who, how, and why people engage with it.

You stated in one post that when an author writes their story one way, you as the reader can't really argue against that at all, as you are choosing to engage with the work. For instance, if you hate Sokeefe and it turns you off from reading the series, you can't say that the author was wrong without basing it in some real criticism. My response to this would be, what would that criticism look like? Do you have a good argument for why Sokeefe wouldn't be a good route for the author to take? I am an AVID Sokeefe shipper, and I can think of at least three. But I digress. My main thought here is that an author, at least in my opinion, can be completely wrong in their execution of anything. Just because something is written in a story doesn't necessarily mean that's how it has to be, or how it would best be written!

I genuinely think millions of writers have begun writing things simply because they saw a poorly executed story.

Writing, for me, at least, always seems to be utterly entwined with itself. Story, wording, execution, pacing, it's all combined into the whole it becomes. This is why Twilight is so bad, why KOTLC has isn't classics material, and why, say, Jane Eyre is! It's all combined together into a beautiful flashing collective, and it is when you get excellence across the board that a work of fiction really shines.

However, I don't think one can take the author as the prime example of perfectly executing their own story.

I would write so much of KOTLC completely differently if it were my writing, and I would argue that all of that would make it worlds better, even if some of my choices are primarily based on personal taste, not supported criticism, because I think that I know how to write just as well, if not better than the author does.

It is based in this very same idea, that even if I were operating solely out of personal taste that I could do it better, that I find myself disagreeing with your claim.

I genuinely believe an author can make terrible decisions with their story, and be wrong about how it's carried out, even if it's in the material and published.

Do you have any thoughts on this? Sorry, I know this is kind of long.

Anyways! Thank you so much for bringing up theoretical stuff!!!! I literally LOVE to see it!!!! :D Have a great day!!!

I love this stuff too OMG im going to college next year and I’m majoring in English

Anyway yes!! Most of what you said is actually about the execution of the story, which I totally agree can be objectively better or worse! I like to put all those things like style, pacing, and execution in the family of “writing” and things like plot and scenes and what is actually happening in the universe as “content.”

I think the “writing,” as I loosely defined it above, can be thoroughly criticized at any point, and ABSOLUTELY SHOULD BE! That’s how readers and writers alike learn and grow from other media and nurture their own talent! I can definitely think of some things about Shannon’s writing in kotlc that I would have executed differently, but with kotlc, I mostly try to ignore it since it’s………kotlc 😭 but no you’re absolutely right!

I bristle a little bit at criticism of “content” as I defined it above. I know it’s wrapped up in the writing, but I think things that are actually happening in the universe—such as decisions characters make or big events that affect the plot and characters—are things that are totally up to the author, and therefore can’t be objectively wrong. For example, Sophie deciding to date Keefe is something happening in the universe. Therefore, it can’t be the “wrong” thing, because it’s Shannon’s universe in the first place.

Now, there could be other pathways the story could have taken. The story might be more enjoyable to some people if other pathways were taken. But Shannon isn’t… “incorrect” about her own characters, which is a take I’ve seen implied (and even outright stated somewhere, I’ll have to find that again) since she created them and what she decides to have them do is a part of the story she’s deciding to tell. From an objective standpoint, we can discuss her writing methods and the execution of the story she is telling, but at the end of the day, if someone’s problem isn’t with the execution but with the story itself, their criticism ceases to really be helpful. That’s basically like saying, “I like Harry Potter, but J. K. Rowling really messed up when she made Voldemort a half-blood.” (Which might be a bad example because it was actually a genius narrative choice.) In that statement, you aren’t criticizing Rowling of her execution of the story, you’re criticizing the very story she decided to tell, which is her right as an author.

I think an author can make choices that don’t move their story in a direction that would lend it more literary merit or have more of an impact. But if those decisions are related to the “content” rather than the “writing” (according to the groups I defined above) then I don’t think anyone can objectively say the decision is wrong. That’s the other thing—the use of the word “objective” in situations it has no business being in.

In short, writers can execute things well or poorly, and they can make narrative decisions that don’t lead the work down a road that gives it more meaning, but when coming up with the actual plot of a story, authors can’t be wrong about what should happen in a story that is of their own design! If they think that their character would do X, Y and Z, then they’re right, because they created the character. Even if we, the readers, haven’t been exposed to a single thing about that character that would make them make those decisions, the author is still right about their own character. Now, in that scenario, the writing can be criticized, because a character who would do X, Y and Z should probably show signs of it earlier in the work so that it doesn’t give the readers whiplash and better develops the character, but the author can’t be wrong in their own universe by virtue of having created the universe.

Thanks for stopping by!! I love chatting about this stuff, feel free to reblog and keep it going

[mazzystar24]

OMG i still feel like I'm in a fever dream. I keep refreshing tumblr just to make sure that it HAPPENED.

We've been waiting for this for so long, i can't believe that they made Buck Bi!! Also here is the thing i want Buddie to happen and I am a hundred percent sure that it's happening (i don't know why people are thinking that it's not like???) the way i could see this going down is buck and tommy exploring their relationship and Buck beginning to question more and more things such as his relationship with Eddie. I WANT and him and Tommy to be in a relationship for a while (because they're actually pretty cute) and eddie pining. tommy will be the catalyst for Buddie.

Also: Oliver stark literally said, Buck has a crush, gets the person (exactly what happened with tommy) and that he has to work for his relationship to work and ryan saying "closer than ever??"

I also hate the fact that so people are mad and hating on the actors , that it wasn't with Eddie. Like of course a Buddie conformation would've been great, but we all knew that that wasn't gonna happen in this episode? We got FUCKING BI BUCK !!! Let's just celebrate this and just watch this beautiful story unfold. I really love reading your prediction and your positivity, please continue with that !!!

What do you think is going to happen in the next episodes? Sorry for the long ask!!

Sameee like I keep trying to be normal then I REMEMBER I’m like wow I didnt hallucinate that??

Exactly like they flat out called Tommy a plot device, confirmed he’s here for a little bit and that it’s a fling, so enjoy it as much as you want to while it’s here but don’t lose hope for buddie people? like legit this is the biggest confirmation buddie is on the horizon

YES THE INTERVIEWS HAVE BEEN REALLY FEEDING INTO MY DELUSION

Like let’s not forget Ryan saying they’re trying to give the people what they want🫡and that they are closer than ever - like legit he has no reason to say this in the same season buck realises he’s bi unless something BIG is gonna happen for buddie (maybe not full canon but vibes???)

Anyone hating on the actors can legit fight me.

Oliver and Ryan have been such troopers for the fandom and Oliver now with this storyline you can tell how much he genuinely loves buck and like understands him as a character but also how to give this storyline what it deserves. Like Oliver has been endlessly respectful to the fandom too like he’s been making sure that he doesn’t get peoples hopes up while also trying to play buck in a way that is true to the character. Like did you guys see his message to the fans? Or his interview talking about how he was gonna actively play buck as bi this season as much as he can even before he got told abt the kiss. Like that man hasnt just been supportive of the fandom he’s been an advocate for us and for buck which is such a wonderful thing.

Also yeah it wasn’t Eddie but do people realise that it’s VERY hard to write an up to now presumed straight character’s self discovery in their 30s LET ALONE TWO?? Like Tim found the easiest way to set the scene for the new audience and the GA who won’t have picked up on early seasons undertone and the little things planted throughout and while I would’ve loved buddie without the middleman I completely understand why they did it this way and I’ll enjoy seeing it unfold

And YES EXACTLY BI BUCK like that alone is a MASSIVE win like we are getting such rare bi rep of not only a guy in a very “macho” job and a womaniser type character BUT ALSO a person figuring stuff out in their 30s not in a repressed full of sex shame and guilt way but in a they genuinely just never explored that side of them!! Like that’s so huge we can talk for hours about how many queer rep stories are just plain depressing but this one is so authentic while also being quite light and sweet

Also aww thanks I genuinely love these asks sm (me? In love with everyone who sends me an ask? More likely than you think🤭🤭🤭)

Also omg I’m sorry this is so long like I spent most of this talking about everything except your question😭😭

Okay so predictions:

So we know that Buck is gonna tell some people and some will be surprised some not so much and some will be like it’s about damn time, my bets are:

chimney- surprised but maybe not through insider info (Maddie)

Maddie- KNOWS HAS KNOWN but the only shocker for her is that it wasn’t Eddie like I can imagine the confused and so tired face rn, I think she probs has either thought he knew or knew he didn’t and just was giving him the time and dropping as many hints as she can in the meanwhile

Bobby- supportive father icon, KNOWS (and while he also I fully believe is the buddie captain as well he will play it a little closer to vest if you get what I mean- but inside he’s going insane and his eye is twitching because he poached Eddie for his dumb bi son only for them to ACT married for six seasons and go to him for dating advice abt other people constantly and now that his son is a man kisser it’s not the man Bobby was hoping for😔 pray for him y’all)

Hen- she’s the it’s about damn time response

Athena- also might be the it’s about damn time response

Ravi- in a permanent state of confusion- not about this he’s just confused always (also still fully convinced the poor guy thought buddie had been married cos that headcanon is endlessly amusing to me)

Now for actual plot I think that like the date is low-key a train wreck after the Eddie and Marisol interruption and that either we get a chenford-like double date or we just have a brief intereuption from Eddie and that’s a minor thing and like it’s buck admitting it’s his first date with a guy who hates throws a lot of questions in the air because Tommys reaction was a bit 👀 like I think it’s more or less confirmed that Tommy was repressed for a while when working with captain dickhead so maybe he’s like gonna be taking a step back cos he thinks buck needs more time to like explore this part of himself (but I hate that trope so hoping not) or maybe we get the buddie shipper daydream and Tommy is like more aware of buddie than buddie are and he either says that to buck as the reasoning but buck doesn’t tell Eddie that OR he says something cryptic about it to buck and buck doesn’t fully understand and he’s like you will eventually👀👀👀 (I need a lobotomy yes the delusions are a part of me now)

I hope that Marisol gets the fuck out right about now but I say that every episode 🫡 (edy’s face and voice make me wanna scream I hate her homophobic, transphobic ass sm)

Anyways I’m gonna shut up now bye love ya thank ya and sorry 🫡🫡

[theamityelf]

I’m not sure if your still writing stuff abt you danganronpa zombies au but if you are can we get more on junko??? I’m just wondering how her personality and plans translate to her zombie self

Im also wondering about Mukuro??? I’m not sure if you’ve mentioned her yet but her being a zombie interacting w her strange obsessive behavior w junko would be interesting

Sorry if this is incoherent but I’ve been thinking abt it for the last couple days lol

First of all, I am open to asks for every AU always! Lol.

For Junko, I'd say that her ability to plot things out is largely intact. Her ability to reason through the consequences of different actions in advance is not as sophisticated as it was before, but it's still really impressive for being undead. She's a lot more lucid than the others, but that said, I don't currently think she has an overarching ambition in this AU.

For one thing, just being undead is such an acute taste of entropy that she no longer feels so bored and dissatisfied all the time. So much about her body and mind are new, she subsists on murdering people, and just so much is wrong that, like Nagito, I think this might lowkey be kind of the best timeline for her.

Hope's Peak created this virus. Hope's Peak created this despair. Her point about despair is pretty much already vindicated, and she knows this won't stay contained. Her need to self-aggrandize is subsumed (at least for now) by her fascination with her new self; her need to spread despair is satiated by just the absolutely miserable situation of the Reserve Course and the pretty much guaranteed upcoming escalation when the undead breach containment; any urge she feels to be destructive and contrarian can easily be expressed by leaving the classroom and trying to eat someone before Makoto finds her; and all the while, she's experiencing the friendship and comradery with her classmates that she enjoys.

Makoto is taking care of her, and she genuinely likes that a lot. She loves getting her hair brushed, and the strained look on his face when he wipes blood from her mouth, and the quick reflexes he's developed to avoid her attempts to bite him. Between that and the occasional video calls from Yasuke, she's feeling pretty great.

I'm not saying Junko will never act mastermind-y in this AU; just that, for some length of time, she is satiated by the status quo. I think, if she does manifest a deeper goal than just enjoying herself, the first new goal she might pursue is that of making Makoto realize how Hope's Peak is using him and what Nagito has been up to. She would want Makoto to know what the Reserve Course's real role here is, and that it's not really accidental.

Now, Mukuro! I mentioned her briefly in this post and some others, but you're right that she hasn't really had focus. Mukuro's dexterity and fine motor skills are among the highest, of the undead, in that she can still hold and wield weapons.

She's still fiercely protective whenever Junko is under threat, but other than that she operates as a normal social presence in the class, just because my own headcanons (anime notwithstanding, lol) have her and Junko act like their relationship is normal, at school. Unlike Junko, Mukuro's grasp of consequences and general human behavior is greatly decreased. Her combat intelligence, as in fighting and battle strategy, remains, but her human intelligence is severely impacted.

Like in the hyperlinked post, she complies when Makoto takes her weapons away, but she doesn't understand that he doesn't want her to have weapons. When he tries to tell her, she just stares uncomprehendingly. She likes his face and his smell and how gently he handles them.

I'm picturing Mukuro curling up with Junko to sleep and Junko continually pushing or kicking her away, with groggy little movements, and Mukuro just casually crawls back, until they both fall asleep about a yard away from each other with Junko's foot against Mukuro's stomach.

[mrsriddles-blog]

I actually find it quite rude that you do this weekly rec thing ? It's disrespectful to other writers who also write great stuff ..... Maybe you should just stop it or if you love it so much maybe in a month or something? When did you start this stuff anyway ? As a writer I feel like you should be more considerate towards other writers feelings . And no this is not out of jealousy , my work has been on your list and that's how I found out about this . In no way am i putting you down , I just wanted to get this out in a way that didn't seem rude

I started the weekly read thing to mainly keep track of everything I read during the week. It’s literally everything I’ve read so far this year. I love it and I do think it gives authors the spotlight during the week. I try to get new authors included every week if possible, but I genuinely just go through a read what I have in my likes posts and keep track of it.

I never meant to offend anyone and make anyone think it’s rude. It wasn’t my intention. I did consider once a month, but I prefer the weekly reads simply because I do read a lot on Tumblr and it’s hard enough to keep track of it all in my notes app where I compile the list.

I started at the beginning of the year as a new way to track what I was reading, but as an author myself I wanted to be able to recommend other works from other authors. It can be challenging to find these amazing works, especially when tags are misused constantly. So, as a reader it’s nice to be able to help other readers/authors who may struggle with finding new fics for their favorite characters.

If there are truly more than just you out there who don’t like that I do this and whatnot, feel free to reach out. If you don’t want to be on the list, you can tell me and I’ll make a list of those who want no part of the list. But, I’m sorry you find it disrespectful and rude. I never intended for that. I had done it in the beginning to help me keep track of what I was reading as I love to read a lot on here (I have OCD and really bad ADHD, so it’s a nice little thing I’ve done to keep me organized, but to help me remember) , Ao3, and Wattpad. It’s easy for me to keep track of all that I read—and there are some fics I find myself going back to because I loved them so much—so this was not to gain any sort of limelight on myself for doing or to shade other authors or whatnot. If anything, I mean the best and I know I try to include some writers who have just started on the Tumblr platform as it can be hard to find your audience.

Again, I never meant to offend anyone or to make it seem as if I were being rude. If anyone truly feels that way, feel free to message me or comment below. I won’t be offended! But, if there’s truly a lot of people out there who fill this way, maybe I will stop doing the posts and find another way to keep track of the reads. Again, I didn’t mean to offend anyone. Or I can continue, but if you’ve been on the list and don’t want to be on it, message me. I’ll be sure not to put you on the list in the future if it makes you uncomfortable or if you simply don’t like it.

I’m sorry to anyone who has been on the list and if I’ve offended you. I hadn’t seen anything negative, so I assumed that everyone was enjoying it as much as I.

[musashi]

I’m sorry but I genuinely don’t think Anon was trying to bait or insult you. Your last upload on AO3 was in 2023, and Anon just said they were eager to read more completed fics when you get around to uploading them.

It’s okay to accept compliments, not everything is an insult or bait.

compliments don't include backhanded statements about going "slow" or "quitting." i get compliments every day and no one feels the need to erroneously take note of the pace at which i write. most of them are just normal and tell me they like my stuff and can't wait for more.

my last upload was last year, but that is because i follow a schedule, and anyone who reads my stuff will know that. quiet for the first half of the year -> writing nonstop all summer -> an upload every day for 30 days straight in september -> end of the year spent on anything i might have left.

nothing about my output has slowed, in fact it has only increased. i bested my wordcount from sicktember 2022 -> 2023 by almost 30k words. so for an anon to come in here and erroneously claim that i have "slowed down" when i 1. haven't and 2. am open on this blog about struggling with a disorder that leaves me feeling lazy & unproductive reads as pretty clear bait if you actually take the time to analyze it.

bait, especially *good* bait, often takes the form of compliments--especially using the "unassuming tumblr accent" that anon used, "aaaa oh my gosh i like you so much!!!" etc etc. compliments are great and i take them in stride as i am a raging narcissist who is obsessed with themself. but when you get as much praise and adoration as i do in my day-to-day, it becomes very easy to spot what's real and what's a clever attempt to get my goat.

if anon was being genuine, then hopefully this will be a lesson to them in not being backhanded & rude. i have certainly met people who lack the social skills to understand when they are, so maybe this will help them think about that.

you're free to think whatever you want, but you can keep it to yourself next time, as well.

[valrvn]

As someone who did take a lot of science classes and had to write a lot of lab reports, a lot of your survey is really great research and the figure captions check pretty much all the boxes (that I can remember) from grading rubrics and such! Seeing this sort of thorough analysis really proves to me that people who might not consider themselves scientists can totally use the scientific method, almost instinctively.

I also found your reasoning for the gender disparities so fascinating. There’s a lot of merit to all of them. I think definitely the question on how ppl found the survey would be super useful in this sense, since I suspect that the demographics of Tumblr are a lot closer to the results of the survey. Narrowing the field to “tumblr users” would also help with bias. But I am SO interested in what an unbiased demographics pie chart for a pregnancy kink looks like. I KNOW a lot of cis dudes have pregnancy kinks, they just call it being a family man 🤨 /hj

But I’m super excited to see more results and analysis, this is great (and genuinely cutting edge in the sense that lowkey no one talks about paraphilias. And ESPECIALLY pregnancy/belly fetishes. Too niche and too taboo besides. So cheers to you absolutely).

sorry I didn't see this until now. I'm glad you got something from it. It's nice to see people are as interested in this stuff as I am.

[steelycunt]

sorry if you’ve answered this i’m new to your blog 😓 i absolutely adore your writing and am in awe of not only your prose but how you write dialogue??? do you have any tips for writing dialogue? you genuinely make it sound so natural

hi love!! thank you so much!! writing dialogue is super fun for me so this is a lovely lovely compliment : ^ )) in terms of tips:

the biggest and simplest one i can think of is to say the dialogue to yourself. you might not speak the way your characters do but in terms of making the dialogue sound natural the best place to start is to write it the way you would say whatever it is youre trying to convey! because at least then its piece of dialogue that sounds something at least one person in the world would say, instead of something that no one would say. any alterations you need to make for it to fit the character can then go after : ^ )

people do not generally talk in clean sentences! obviously theres a balance to be struck between making it believable and making it readable but most people when they speak will at some point stutter or repeat words or use fillers like um or er or uh or start a thought one way and break off to finish it in another or not finish it at all, especially when they are talking about something that is uncomfortable or difficult. putting a bit of that in your dialogue is an easy way to make it sound more natural and also great for distinguishing between characters who may be more nervous/particular about the way they word things and thus more likely to stutter or reword sentences halfway through and those who may be more confident/less worried about how their words are received and so might not chop their sentences up as much.

i suppose this one is a bit particular depending on where you're from and where your characters are from but making an effort to use different slang and word choices for characters who are from different places gives them a more distinct voice! i love to use british slang in my writing i think we have such great slang and it helps ground the characters in their setting a bit, but at the same time a character from london does not sound the same as a character from yorkshire or from glasgow or from swansea. characters from different backgrounds (e.g. class) generally speak differently + the more you can incorporate that the more authentic their dialogue will be and the less they'll all sound the same : ^ ) it can be jarring when characters who are supposedly from all over all seem to speak in general American-Internet talk...no british person speaks like an american!! Do not let the internet turn you into an American!!

lastly + in a similar vein i think the biggest thing that i find makes dialogue seem unnatural in stuff i read is like. the tendency to write characters talking as if theyve just graduated from the Tumblr School of Unproblematic Discourse so as to make them seem 'unproblematic' (a whole other issue within itself) regardless of their background or setting or the fact that nobody speaks like that. I've read characters particularly around the issue of like sexuality and identity talk in these paragraphs that are so stilted (and frankly cringy!) that they read as if theyve been word for word lifted from some long tumblr discourse post on the topic. they all use the very latest and most unproblematic language and repeat phrases like they are talking in tweets or a 2014 tumblr be gay do crime 20k note textpost. people just do not speak like that and they do not need to!! they do not need to speak like a tumblr textpost to be unproblematic. they also do not need to be unproblematic at all. i think this links back to the first bullet point really in that if it does not sound like speech you can imagine anyone actually saying, out loud, off the top of their heads, its probably because they wouldnt and you're better off conveying that sentiment in a more casual way. Do not let the internet turn you into the internet!!!

thats all i tend to bear in mind myself when writing dialogue i think!! sorry for rambling but hopefully something in there might be useful for you : ^ ))

[heyheydidjaknow]

Sometimes I write stuff because people ask me to. Sometimes I write stuff because I have an overwhelming desire to pick a character apart to figure out how they work. This is not one of those times. This time, this fic goes out to middle school me, who wanted to read SAO:A Kirito x Reader fanfiction and had to settle for normal Kirito x Reader fanfiction. Nobody is going to read this and that is fine because this is between me and little me. It’s not very good but at least now it exists. You’re welcome, little me.

Pig’s Blood

Kazuto Kirigaya was objectively the biggest loser you had ever met. Naturally, you were incredibly infatuated with him.

You did not know much about Kazuto. The only reason you sat next to him in the first place was that you were new to the area and the seats next to him were consistently empty. Your conversations were limited— he was exceptionally socially awkward— and the conversations you did have lasted maybe a minute each. You knew he was into coding through someone who tried to convince you not to ask him out, that he had a sister determined to make you not like him, and that he sat alone under the stairs at lunch. But the interactions you did have— as infrequent as they were— made your day; he was charming and had not hurt anyone you knew directly, so as far as you were concerned he was fair game and a fairly decent option despite the fact that your friends all thought he was as charming as a doormat.

You came into class that day confidently, groomed to the best of your abilities, and dressed as well as the school dress code would allow. You sat next to him as always, tapped him on the shoulder, and asked a very simple question: “You’re not in a relationship, right?”

Kazuto, who had been scrolling through his phone up until that point with earbuds placed securely in his ears, turned to look at you, obviously distracted as he pulled one of them out. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Are you single?”

He blinked. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Because I would like to ask you out on a date.”

He stared at you, lips twitching into a smile. “Yeah,” he laughed incredulously, “okay.” He went back to his phone. “And why, pray tell, would you want to do that?”

“Because I like you.” You shrugged, feeling slightly deflated but not completely discouraged. “I think you’re funny and cute and smart. I would like to get to know you better and see if a relationship between us might work.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure you do.” He rested his head on his hand. “Our school doesn’t have a prom; do you plan on dumping pig's blood on me before or after the date?”

“Excuse me?”

“This is a trap.” Either he was an exceptionally fast reader or he was not actually reading what was on his phone. “I saw you were talking to my sister; she probably set you up to humiliate me.”

You stared at him.

“I can pay attention.”

“You’re a clown.”

He paused. “That’s a weird way of saying, ‘I’m sorry for trying to—‘“

“Here I was,” you cut him off, “worried that you would just up and reject me and that I would be stuck sitting next to you if you did. Never in my wildest nightmares did I think that your reaction would be, ‘Say sike.’” You rubbed your eyes, already thoroughly exhausted by this conversation. “Kazuto, if you’re not interested, please just say instead of making yourself look like a moron, alright? You’re embarrassing both of us.”

“You were serious?”

“Yes!”

“Oh.” His eyes were unfocused as he processed this information. “Oh. You’re into me?”

You let your head fall to your desk. “Yes.”

His ears visibly warmed. “Still?”

“Am I still engaging?”

“Great.” He nodded slowly. “Can I take you up on your offer, then?”

“That depends; do you genuinely think I’m going to spill pig’s blood on you?”

“If you knew my sister you’d understand.”

“Sure.” Without looking, you made a grabbing motion for his phone. “Gimme. I’ll put my number in your phone.”

“You what?”

“I have a date.” He gave himself another once over. “So I’m not going to be back until later.”

Sugaha leaned against the opposite wall, looking with him. “Playing dating sims in an internet cafe isn’t a date, you know.”

Kazuto took a slow, deep breath. “How about you shut the fuck up?” He looked back at her, smiling brightly. “Your words do not affect me. You will not bring me down.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to bring you down.” She raised her arms in mock defense. “I mean, you are dressed in your finest, least cum-stained t-shirt, so obviously this is a big deal. I’m just reminding you that we in the real world just call that being sad in public and that calling it a date just makes it that much sadder.”

His ears burned. “It was one time.”

She grinned. “One time too many.”

He huffed, turning back to the mirror. “I’m going on a date with a real person.”

“Yeah?” She snorted. “Do they think you’re a twelve-year-old girl again?”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not a no.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “They go to our school.”

She crossed her arms. “How much did you pay them?”

He licked his teeth. “If you’re so cool, where's your date?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need one. You know why? Because people would notice my death even if I did die single.”

“And you know what they’d say at the funeral? ‘Here lies Sugaha Kirigaya, a bitch so far up her own ass that she couldn’t let her brother be happy for five fucking minutes.’ Is that what you want?”

She gave him a long look in the mirror. “‘Here lies noncommittal flake bitchboy Kazuto Kirigaya, whose only accomplishment was holding the world record for fewest bitches.’”

There was a knock on the door.

“It appears our time here is up.” He clapped his hands together, already exhausted. “So long, fair well, and please for the love of god do not wait up for me.”

She rolled her eyes, waving her hand dismissively as she disappeared down the hall. “Bold of you to assume I’ll have to.”

He opened his mouth to offer a clever retort, but the words died in his throat. With a huff, he opened the door.

You were decidedly out of his league. He could tell as much from the offset; not only did you have levels of confidence he could only hope to achieve, but you were also decidedly better looking than he was, as proven by the fact that you were still a ten outside of a school uniform. You were dressed appropriately for the weather in colors and a style that seemed to suit you, and unlike Kazuto you did not seem to be sweating buckets, which was not a fashion choice but still a notable positive quality. He, on the other hand, for all his agonizing, still looked like a drowned rat, hair both miraculously sticking to his scalp and sticking out at odd angles and rocking eye bags like a statement piece of jewelry he did not want to be wearing. Not even a minute after opening the door he already wanted to escape back to his room.

“Kazuto?”

He blinked. “Did you say something?”

“I asked if you were ready to go.” You glanced down at your hands. “You looked as though I put a gun to your head.”

“Did I?” He shook his head, trying to pull himself back together. “I’m not. I mean, I am. I mean, yes, I am ready to go.” With each passing word the number of syllables he stumbled over increased. He slowed down, figuring clunky wording sounded more natural than seeming to have a stroke. “Where is the place that we are going to be going to today?”

From the look on your face, he could tell you had noticed his odd behavior. He hoped for the earth to swallow him whole. “I know a cafe not that far from here.” You pointed in the general direction. “I thought it would be nice to walk.”

He gave you a thumbs up lamely. “Awesome. Neat. Cool. Great. Let’s go.”

You stepped aside for him as he tried not to stumble over the threshold. “Let’s.” You looked up at the house. “You’ve got a nice place.”

“Thanks.” He closed the door before immediately sticking his hands in his pockets. As you began to walk he followed at your side. “Was the trip far?”

“Not at all.” You held your hands behind your back. “Maybe twenty minutes or so total.”

“Good.” He looked down at his feet. “Good.”

The two of you walked in silence for a solid minute. In that time be considered three separate times if he could realistically make his jumping in front of a moving vehicle look like an accident.

“Nice weather we’re having.”

He nodded.

You pulled out your phone, unlocking it. “Do you go to cafes much?”

He hesitated. “I guess, yeah.”

“What do you usually get?”

“Coffee.”

“How do you take it?”

“Black.”

You nodded. “So you’re a masochist.”

He choked on his spit. “What?”

You repeated yourself.

His ears warmed. “Why does that make me a masochist?”

“It doesn’t.” You smiled to yourself. “But you’re not totally freaked out anymore.”

“I was not freaked out!” He stood up taller. “I was letting you lead the conversation!”

Your grin only widened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! And you know what?”

You held your hands behind your back, waiting politely for him to finish his thought.

He looked down at his feet. “Whatever.”

“You are so red right now.”

He was half convinced he was going to combust. “Fuck you.”

You pushed him playfully with your side. “In public? How scandalous.” You looked up at one of the buildings, taking his hand. “This is it.” You pulled him inside.

It registered in the back of his head that the cafe was nice. He had been here before, had looked up at the menu you were looking at, and had, at a point in time, been able to process the information written on the chalkboard. However, the fact that you, an attractive person, were holding his sweaty hand made such a complicated as being able to use his eyes seem nigh impossible, and rightly so; after all, everyone knows that holding someone’s hand, something that people do every day, makes you illiterate and deaf.

You snapped your fingers in front of his face. You were saying something to him.

“Huh?”

You raised your voice. “What do you want?”

He glanced up at the menu uselessly. “Tea.”

The cashier– who Kazuto had either failed to perceive or had spawned into existence just then– smiled sympathetically at him. “What sort?”

Kazuto wondered if the condensation leaking from his pores would drip onto the floor. “Hot.”

The cashier nodded as if that made any sense, punching his order into the computer in front of him. “Do you want anything in your tea?”

“Yes.”

The cashier glanced at you as if looking for some sort of explanation. “What would you like in your tea?”

“Sugar.”

“Is that all?”

“Yup.” He hoped that by some great failure on the barista’s part– who he could see watching the scene– it was a slow day– with barely contained mirth– might accidentally slip some sort of toxic substance in his drink on accident so that they might both be rendered incapable of experiencing the trainwreck that was this date any longer.

You paid for both of you. You let go of his hand to pay, an obvious sign that you now hated him. He tried asking you how much he owed you but remembered that talking had not worked very well for him thus far and decided to keep his mouth shut and instead focus on remembering how a member of the human race operates a chair.

You took your seat easily, waiting patiently for him to figure his chair out. “So you like tea.”

He eventually managed. “Huh? Yeah.”

You laced your fingers together, propping your elbows on the table and resting your head on your hands. “I thought you said you were a coffee drinker.”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded. “I lied.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, not fully processing his own words. “I thought it made me sound cooler.”

You smiled gently. “And why would that make you cooler?”

He shrugged again, prompting an overwhelming desire in him to cut off his arms so he did not have the option.

“Alright then.” You shifted your head to one of your hands, looking down at your nails. “What do you actually drink, then?”`

“At a place like this? Tea.”

You smiled. “Is that your caffeinated beverage of choice?”

He shook his head.

“What’s your caffeinated beverage of choice?”

He looked down at his hands. “Energy drinks.”

You nodded. “That sounds more like it.”

He glanced up at you. “Why,” he grumbled, “‘cause I seem like the type of loser to do that sort of thing?”

“No.” You sat up. “But you come into first period sometimes with those big cans, and when I see you in third the can is usually gone.”

“That makes sense.”

“Hopefully.”

He looked around the building, avoiding looking at you. “So. No pig blood.”

“No pig blood.” You shrugged. “Figured that wouldn’t be nice to the people who work here; they don’t get paid enough as is.”

His eyes shot up to yours. He offered a weak smile. “Yeah. Totally.” He laughed. “You’re joking. That’s a joke.”

“Who’re you trying to convince?”

“Me, mostly.”

You sigh. “I’m a bit offended you still think I’m going to humiliate you here, for the record.”

He leaned further back in his chair. “You’d get it if you knew me for longer; Sugaha hasn’t ever gone quite this far but it’s not exactly out of character for her.”

You nodded. “I get the impression you and your sister don’t get on well.”

“Isn’t this a weird conversation to be having on a first date?”

You laced your fingers together. “Honestly? No idea. I don’t date much.”

“You don’t?”

You pursed your lips, eyes trained on another couple at the register. “You sound surprised.”

“Well, yeah.” He tugged at one of his sleeves. “You seem like the type to get asked out a lot.”

“Please,” you wave him off. “It’s not as if people are lined up around the block to get a piece of me or anything.”

“They aren’t?”

“Hell no.” You rolled your eyes, clearing your throat. “I was sure you’d turn me down, actually.”

He laughed. “Oh, yeah, like I’m in a position to be turning people down left and right. You have met me, right?”

You did not seem to find the notion as funny as he did. “Yeah.”

He felt his face warm. “Oh.”

The drinks eventually came. You took a sip of yours, crisscrossing your legs on your side of the table. Kazuto sipped his and burned off the nerves in his tongue.

“So.” You swirled your drink, watching the patterns on the surface. “What should we talk about?”

He tried to hide his pain. “Dunno.” He pretended to take another sip. “Did you get the history essay done?”

“Oh, god no.” You smiled. “I’m ignoring that thing until I absolutely have to.”

“Oh.”

You sighed. “I suppose that means yours is finished?”

He nodded.

“For how long?”

“Like a week.”

You took another drink from your cup. “Figures.”

He gave up, setting the mug down. “It’s not like I’m history’s biggest fan,” he mumbled. “I just wanted it done.”

“What for?”

He pursed his lips, thinking of a way to phrase his answer to make himself look less like a loser. “There’s a thing happening next Friday. I want to have my schedule free for it.”

“Yeah?” You smiled. “What?”

“Oh, nothing important.” He scratched at his wrist absentmindedly. “Just a thing.”

You ran your thumb over the lip of your cup. “I’m surprised.”

He blinked. “What’s surprising about that?”

“Well, they’ve been advertising that game you’re always reading about all over recently. Isn’t that dropping Friday?”

Kazuto slowly sank further into his chair. “Is it? I had no idea.”

“Yeah.” You smiled. “My friends and I are camping out to buy it as soon as stores open; I’ve heard it’s supposed to be totally immersive.”

“Sure,” he laughed. “If you qualify having more bugs than an ant farm as being immersive.”

“Huh?”

“The whole game is fucked.” He crossed his arms.” SAO, I mean; the game balancing is a joke, the menus work like they were designed by a toddler raised on Apple products, the class system is unbalanced and nonexistent– launch day is going to be a shitshow from start to finish.”

You blinked. “How do you know that?”

He paused, realizing his mistake. “Is there an answer that isn’t going to make me sound exceptionally lame?”

“Based on your criteria, probably not.”

“Cool.” He sighed. “I was a beta tester. I filled out a survey and got the NerveGear for free.”

You nodded. “That’s lucky.”

He stared at you. “You’re not mocking me. Why aren’t you mocking me?”

“Because I don’t have any reason to.” You smiled. “I knew what I was getting into generally. If I didn’t like you I wouldn’t have asked you out.”

“Right.” He looked down at his cup of now cold tea. “Right.”

You fished your phone from your pocket, glancing down at the screen. You glanced between the device and Kazuto. “Would it be too awful of me to ask if we can continue this some other time? My parents don’t know I’m here and are coming home earlier than I thought.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, no, we can pick this up some other time.” He stood up as you quickly gathered your things. “Do you need me to walk you to a bus or anything?”

“I’m good, thanks.” You rubbed the back of your neck. “We live in opposite directions.”

“That makes sense.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Then I’ll see you at school?”

You looked at the door, then back at him. “Are you free Friday night? I know SAO is dropping and all, but would you perhaps be interested in grabbing dinner once it shuts down for the inevitable maintenance that it’s going to need?”

He blinked. “You were serious about the meeting up again thing?”

You nodded.

He looked down at his shoes. “Totally, yeah. When’s a good time?”

You considered it. “How’s five sound?”

“Five is perfect.”

“Then it’s a date.” You gave him a quick peck on the cheek, heading to the door. “I gotta run. See ya then!” And just like that, you were out the door.

He stood in the same spot for longer than he should have. He finished his drink– which was as cold as he thought it would be– and left the building.

Kazuto was home early that day. His sister gave him a great deal of shit about it. He got the snot beaten out of him and his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets from staring at his screen for too long. None of that mattered, though, because he had been kissed by the most attractive person in his school. Even if everything else sucked, he could be happy knowing someone like you liked him.

Life was good.

It would not stay that way.

[ryuichirou]

I just want to say: the darker AUs you have on your blog are just *chefs kiss*. The prison AU has so many venues for underhanded dealings, manipulation and just prime psychological warfare. Heartslabyul's dynamics as wardens is just? asking for trouble and I am all for it. I guess my question would be: How would the prisoners take advantage of their wardens' weaknesses? Seeing as some are more rule-bound (Riddle, Trey) in a sense, you could also consider them the most predictable. Meanwhile other wardens may underestimate the prisoners (Ace because he's arrogant, Deuce because he's a little naive) and that could lead to other problems. Although lowkey, Cater kind of seems like the guy who is actually a double-agent working for the prisoners... I mean that signature spell is literally the perfect alibi... any more info on him? I apologize for going on and on but I am just so genuinely intrigued by your prison AU. I would kill for any more details about it, it is just seriously so good.

This reply is written by Katsu &lt;3

Thank you very much for liking darker stuff and this AU in particular! The character writing is so great in TW that putting them in literally any setting and thinking about how their relationship would slightly transform because of that while trying to remain as close to the original as possible is just a treat. And since we all know they are villains... it’s going to be exactly like you said – dealings, manipulation, smuggling, warfare and whatnot.

Half-way though this reply turned into an instruction, for some reason?.. I’m sorry lol I spent too much time writing all of this.

Your take on the Heartslabyul boys is pretty much on point, so I’d probably describe their weaknesses in a similar manner.

Riddle is extremely predictable because he follows the prison rules to a T. You can abuse his regime and his routines; his patrol routes follow a very distinct pattern, so if you find any of his blind spots, it’s basically a golden mine for smuggling. Even if Riddle’s aware of that, but sometimes he can’t change what he’s doing atm because it interferes with some of his Queen of Hearts rules, so he’s bound to obey them no matter what despite the fact that he’s not a student anymore and despite the fact that someone breaks prison rules right in front of him. I think prisoners would learn quite a large number of Queen of Hearts rules to use for their advantage. It sometimes can be something simple, for instance, like abusing the rule 153 - the only tea you may drink in the evenings is herbal tea. They can freely put something like sleeping pills in it because they know that Riddle is definitely going to drink this tea and not anything else in the evening. Or rule 25, which lets you know that his shift is going to end sooner than usual that day, not to mention he’s going to drag a bunch of other wardens with him to help out with a tea party.

Trey, on the other hand, isn’t as strict, so he’s less convenient for the prisoners, esp in comparison. However, he doesn’t lack common sense unlike Riddle, who is rather eccentric, so his “normal guy” attitude also leads to him being rather predictable, just like you said. Nothing special comes to mind for me except for the usual ways to trick people, but Trey isn’t exactly the most trusting guy, so he might actually see through you. Prisoners can sometimes abuse his poor eyesight, though.

Ace really is arrogant, he’s the one you can easily manipulate if he has some respect for you, and if you seem cool to him, then despite being a prisoner you definitely have some (respect). It’s the same as Floyd described, basically, where Ace does dumb shit thinking it’s part of a master plan, and that he won’t get caught for it, so he follows your lead. He’s also very short-tempered, and this, with his provoking manner of speech, leads to him being one of the “weakest” wardens in prison. One of the most troublesome and funny...

Deuce is somewhat the same, he gets angry quickly and is ready to fight anyone who disses people he likes or respects (he’s less likely to jump someone if they offend him personally). He’s naive and will believe you if you say you want to change, but only because of his own experience,and only after he gets to know better. He’s not exactly trustful and is well aware about different types of delinquents and their behaviour patterns, although his knowledge about really creepy and dangerous dudes is worse. He also won’t believe you the second time after you betray his trust. He also runs fast, that’s his strong point.

Cater... I honestly don’t know or remember much about Cater, he’s one of the neglected boys by us (sorry, Cater), but I think your idea of him being a double agent seems perfect for him, as well as his unique magic that’ll make him one of the most knowledgeable people in the prison in terms of rumors + will always provide him with perfect alibi. He’s profitable, so I think prisoners will try to maintain nice relationships with him. He seems like one of the smugglers, who would bring stuff to prison for trade. Kay-kun is here to deliver your cigarettes!~ and stuff.

Jack’s weaknesses are related to him being a pup – anything extremely stinky (hi, beanfest), loud, or distracting and abusing his sharp senses is a nice go-to for disturbing with his work. If he’s transformed into a wolf, anything that helps you to drag out the situation would also be beneficial – I’m pretty sure that after transforming back he’d be too tired to do anything. Since his nose is very powerful, to erase tracks and your own smell from objects it’s better to use stuff that’s extremely chemical and/or includes bleach or even worse stuff. Now it sounds like I’m writing a tutorial...

Kalim is a walking weakness disaster. The only thing that’s on his side is his luck and his positive attitude. He’s a nightmare for his colleagues, even though he’s pretty hard-working and listens to every order without complaint... I’m sorry. He’s so easy to abuse, even if he learns his mistakes and tries not to repeat them. I wouldn’t even call him stupid, he isn’t, it’s just everything else about him.

Rook doesn’t have any weaknesses, although maybe he might get distracted by Vil’s beauty or some other stalking activity – you never know where he is, which can be both a pro and a con. Plus, Rook doesn’t take his job very seriously, he’s more here to have fun and discover something beautiful by being among the lowest scum of the earth, or something like that, so he might neglect his duties from time to time.

Vil’s weakest spot is his face, so doing anything to destroy it or disturb his beauty, despite this being a dick move, is a nice way to get rid of him. Also gross and dirty stuff might stall him, so he’ll spend at least some time to overcome his disgust, but that depends more on his mental state. If he’s confident, which he often is, it just won’t do you any good. It’s still possible to overpower him, but that’s for very strong prisoners.

Epel is on the same line with Ace and Deuce – quick-tempered and fast to punch you in the face, so he’s easy to manipulate as well. He’s not as scheming as Ace and not as nice as Deuce, so he’s probably the dumbest warden there is (sorry, Epel...). He also tries to look cool, so if you stroke his ego in the correct way or prove that you’re super cool and worthy of his respect, he’ll be your minion. He’s good at lying in people’s faces, though, which can also be used if he’s on a prisoner’s side.

Idia is a scared kitten who’s very weak physically, so he won’t put up any fight – you can bully him into lots of stuff with threats and violence, even if he’s going to complain about it along the way. He gives up easily if he sees that chances to win aren’t on his side, and that’s definitely going to be the case with most of the prisoners, unless he can use his technician skill somehow. He’s hard to spot, but if he falls into prisoner’s hands, his go-to is to get out of situation with the least amount of losses from his side. Wow, he’s so useless he’s with the Ace-Deuce-Epel team.

Ortho is a little bit naive, but his super strength, super hearing, super eyesight and literally all of his other settings and his gear compensate this weakness. I’d recommend avoiding him as much as Rook, he’s too OP. His basic weakness would be water and humid stuff, but I’m pretty sure Idia has this covered by giving him magic shields and air dryers or something.

Sebek – very aggressive and stupid. If you offend him or anything that he respects, he’ll probably try to murder you and not think about anything else. On the downside, he’s very strong and has sharp senses, so after teasing him it’s important to get out of his reach. He seems silly, but I wouldn’t count on it too much without getting his emotions involved in the process, he’s attentive and analytical.

Silver is also somewhat naive and goes with the flow. He’s gullible, so if your acting is mid or higher level, it’s very easy to trick him into believing you, even if you say something dumb like “zombie breakout, run” while going with your escape plan. And, of course, his narcolepsy, which makes him one of the favourite wardens for prisoners.

This sounds more like a character analysis post than me trying to name their weaknesses, but I hope it works! Once again, thank you very much for you kind words and this wonderful ask ❤️