#actually this whole fic may or may not be based on my interactions with all four of my younger siblings

[floralscented]

i seriously did not want to do this but if i'm gonna be talked abt behind the scenes, and if ppl i follow are going to start turning on me because of one actual psychopath that has not left me alone for 3 weeks, i'm gonna say my piece because it is not fair to know that i am being painted in a bad light, when i have been a victim, and my friends have been dragged into this because every time, it is made public.

all of this has happened in a span of twenty one days. here's my proof.

this is a server that one of my close friends and most adored people (who, again, like anyone else mentioned in this, should not have been dragged into this fucking tirade) created for spn fans on discord to cultivate a fun little community and to make friends. she acquired the link, i don't know who invited her or if somehow she just found the link if it was posted and joined herself, but she showed up.

four days into her being there, i tell the server, i'm making a mr. & mrs. smith inspired jackles bot. i'd more say 3, because i posted it at midnight that day. eleven hours later, she says 'i wanna make a mr. & mrs. smith dean bot.' so my whole idea. and i am not a confrontational person by nature, so i was trying to lightly discourage without straight up saying no, because i did not know this girl. it'd been a little over 3 days.

i have the person i was replying to blurred because i'm actually sick of people getting dragged into this that did not have any reason to be put in between her shit with me, whatever the hell that may be.

here is me lightly trying to deny it but not outright saying no, and maybe that's on me, but who in their right mind sees someone else's idea and eleven hours later just blatantly copies it?

and she did copy it. word for word. this is my intro message on the left, and this is hers on the right. it's literally word for word, practically, with the lines lining up and everything.

so i'm angry. i don't care abt follower account but now i'm going to look like the thief because at this point, i'm not anywhere near big. like 300 followers. which again, don't care about, but sometime between the span of this above and what's coming, she'd been posting abt a milestone very close to 1k. that is a clear difference, and an abuse of the writing channel, that is supposed to have been a safe place for us to share our ideas.

i don't say anything about this, though. my breaking point is when she discovers my bonnie & clyde au and says she wants to make a bot based on it. which maybe i would have said yes to someone else, but she'd stolen my idea already before, word for word, and i wasn't in the mood. so i politely told her no, and that i was planning on making bots out of all of my aus. and she goes something like, "oh, that's fine, i just really liked the idea is all." i have deleted our dms on discord because i didn't want her reaching out to me again, which does come up!

anyways, i think it's cool. i'm thinking she's not going to take anything else, because i denied her one thing, so maybe this was just a one-off.

she posts this into the writing server, like she's showing off that she made the bot anyways / had made it already in the short span of time it took me to reply to her, and was trying to get hype for it??? or something?? or rub it in my face that she made it anyways? i don't know her motives. for anything that happens in this.

not to mention, she made a mr. & mrs. smith dean pt two in this time, for some reason. again, not her idea.

but going back to the above screenshot, that's her chatting with bonnie & clyde!dean. please look here at a screenshot of my fic, literally making it clear that whatever the intro she used for this, it was identical, because the interaction here is identical to my writing.

the day before this, december 1st, she was also asking me to tell her abt the au, but i'm not going to downright say that it was to stake out stuff to steal, but looking back, it seems like it.

so by this point, i'm angry! really angry! because every idea i mention in that chat, gets stolen by her. so i make this post. kind of infamous when it comes to future things.

immediately, she knows it's about her, because she's messaging me everywhere. i. do. not. engage. behind the scenes, i'm talking to people in the server abt it, because i literally am being stolen from and expected to take it! so she gets kicked.

this causes her to message me even more. this causes her to make an entire post ( now deleted by ppl in the server's request, because we thought once 'resolved', it would be resolved ) tagging every single person in the server. not just me, not just the people who came forward or the server's owner, but everyone who has no idea what's going on. trying to pitch her case.

her case being, by the way, that the reason she copied me was because of photographic memory. i feel like i have a screenshot of this but can't find it, and also don't want to keep using all my limited picture spaces. but if i find it and you want to see it, i will show it.

she gets let back into the server on a warning. it's like a 3 strike system, i imagine, which this is where things get psychotic! like genuinely!

the very day that i tell her no to the bonnie & clyde thing, i get this in my inbox.

on god, never before have i been told this ever. and i'm supposed to believe that it's not a coincidence, when the only person i've 'wronged' on tumblr so far is her, and just for calling her out on her shit? i've literally been on tumblr for maybe 2 months maximum at this point. like i only know a handful of people, and most are in this server.

so i move on. whatever. one of my friends from the server makes a post ( that i rb-ed, but i'm not gonna link it because again, i'm keeping them out of this if i can, but it's also on my page still ) in my defense, because genuinely, it is not that fucking serious to tell a fanfic writer to kill themselves.

after she posts it, she gets an anon telling her to track them. and then one telling her to kill herself. again, i'm not posting who's doing this, but she responded to it, and it's on her account if you need to see more proof.

so you might be thinking, how do you know this is her? it's a lot of circumstantial evidence and gut feelings. and yes, i did doubt it at the time that maybe it wasn't, and i was just paranoid, but literally sometime last week, she not only:

messaged me 4 times privately on discord to reply to a question i already answered (being like do you think i'm a bad person? or something like that. but i answered it! and she added something on the end that i didn't see because i was busy and in a different timezone.)

tagged me twice in the server to try and get my attention for this question.

private messaged me here on tumblr.

sent an ask, which i do still have & a screenshot in case it gets deleted btw, about it.

MADE. A THROWAWAY ACCOUNT. BAITING ME INTO REPLYING TO IT. it was a comment abt a fic, so i said thank you, and within 3 fucking minutes max, she sent me ANOTHER message on discord saying "please stop ignoring me." THE ACCOUNT NOW, IS GONE. SO THAT'S HOW I KNOW IT'S HER. you will see later, too, that this is fitting for her character.

i know that screenshot is not much to go off of, but that account did not follow me, did not even like or interact with that fic. i remember taking that screenshot because i was like, there's no way this is her, like actually no way, because the first message to get me to say anything was just like a compliment. and the moment i replied, she messages me, and after i message back, i get the above response. i hope this makes sense.

this is her strike 2, by the way, because i was getting harassed and i wasn't going to sit there and be like yeah this is fine that this is happening to me. i am six hours, maybe more, behind her timewise. as you can see in the screenshot, it was 1:27 am for me.

so all of this happens, and she's getting increasingly more passive aggressive. she keeps bringing up CONSTANTLY that none of us interact with her things anymore, which is crazy to me, because she hardly interacted with ours but expected things back for her. not to mention, of course i wasn't going to interact with someone the same after that someone stole my shit.

all of this leads to december 17th, which yes, was yesterday. which i'm assuming is her big crashout because it's the only reason i can think of anything else that it could be??? but me and a lot of the other server members get anons like this. which is why, like i said earlier, i am convinced the kys is her. this one is the one i received.

and these are a couple that my friends did.

none of us reply, and she's spamming in the chat asking if we got anything, and we all deny it, because we know it's her. like, who else comes into other people's asks to talk shit on someone else? it makes no sense. especially people that the anon wouldn't have known? that she was friends with? i wasn't even in her little intro tagged post, like a lot of the server was before now, so it's literally a dead giveaway that this is her.

when she gets to me, though, after being told i think twice that no, none of us received anything, tumblr must have eaten it, her message changes. and she's like "i just got a second ask telling me that you definitely got one." and when i asked to see the screenshot of the ask that name drops me, she says she deleted it. like how convenient, right?

so this is where things get absolutely mental. more so than they are.

the dani era. shortlived but absolutely insane. suddenly she's leaving her account, as you probably saw from one of her posts that's now deleted, but i might have a screenshot.

you can't really see it but she changed her server name to dani too, and you might have seen her account before literally this afternoon, was daniisms. so again, she is kicked, because suddenly handing off your account to a stranger is weird and violates the rules. i am not in charge of the kicking, by the way, if for some reason you think i am. i literally am just a person in the server who for some reason was targetted? idk.

i don't want to air out her shit but this is the reasoning she provided for why she was quitting and 'dani' was taking over. sorry it's so small i was on my laptop n so it's just. like that.

in a later message, she brings up how specifically she is depressed... because of lack of engagement from us. literally. and i get that that's upsetting, but she just handed over her whole account allegedly? because of it? that's insane to me.

so after she's kicked, she starts messaging some of us on discord, i got an ask.

this, also, is still in my drafts, because i was going to privately be like arty this is actually clinical please seek help, but it wouldn't let me post it privately so i didn't! because i never wanted! any of this! public! from the very beginning!

also you can see there, the username change. so a lot of us block her. i didn't because i wanted to see if being kicked and no longer apart of the server would make her give it up, which yeah, i should have, but i give a lot of benefit of the doubt if you can't tell, when all it does is bite me in the ass.

because a lot of people got blocked, she made an account called bella-oftheball, and only followed two people from the server, commented on one of my random fics, and on the account right now, her only like is another person from the server's. not to mention, the header on the account is literally exactly her edit style. again. blocked.

so this morning. all of us are getting messages from arty again, suddenly back on her account, and claiming that all of this is a hacker. that she hasn't even been here for weeks. so this is the first time she's seeing any of this allegedly and she's confused, doesn't understand why she's gone from the server, her discord account's deleted...

still here in my friends list. lol. and she's in my asks, as you can see where i answer it. so you can see her exact defense and then her in the comments.

now i just want you to tell me why a hacker would:

post all of her drafts

target a spn tumblr writing acct??? like?

and none of her sideblogs ?

make up ANOTHER persona aka the friend named dani.

go through the effort of liking some of our things when she did, and interacting with all of us in the server???

because hackers usually idk. delete the entire accounts. or post awful things on someone else's accts. they wouldn't just run it like their own ??????

so yeah. she's back on tumblr btw, as artyandink, as arty. i'm posting this because her intro message has changed to no longer have any of the server ( not me, never me, and i wonder why! ) but people that i know she's telling all of this too and painting not only me as a bad guy, but also my friends who literally only are involved because they were defending me. dragged into this shit for daring to believe me.

i am making this both in my defense and as a warning. please be careful around this person! she switches identities on a dime to fit her narrative, will harass you if you don't answer fast enough, will harass you if you say anything she doesn't like, and will literally torment your entire friend group if she deems fit, as a form of sick pleasure or something. again, i don't know her motive, just that i've been going through this behind the scenes for 3 fucking weeks, all for it to lead up to this, and to have me being pinned by her to people that do not know a thing about this because it was NEVER MEANT. TO BE PUBLIC. OR THIS INSANE.

<3 please stay safe ily guys.

[megamindsecretlair]

WIP Tuesday

Buckle up babes, it's going to be a long post!

I come before you humble, hat in hand. I know I been wilding ya'll. I know there's a lot of fics I need to update and get back to. I haven't forgotten! And since there are...so many new people thanks to my Terry fics, what a great time to call myself out chuz ya'll too nice to do so! I saw @nerdieforpedro do this a few weeks ago? Forgive me for not tagging the person you got it from, but I am tiredt, chilleee.

Current focus: Terry got my whole heart, ya'll. Every fic I read of him, I just want to go hop in the booth myself and get to writing. Ya'll inspire me every damn day, it's magical. There is a filthy, disgusting, mean, despicable fic I wanna write with him. But alas, he is not the only one I write for.

Girl, there's how many series????? Listen, the muse wants what it wants. 11 series in total. Chillee, why I do dissssss. Some are closer to finishing than others. So let's count them out (click the links to learn more):

Be My Little Darling - Loki series | It Started With a Whisper - Sam Wilson series | Midnight Sin - Vampire Tyrone series | Blackbird - Mob Boss Fontaine | Camp Wanderlust - Franklin Saint series | What You Deserve - Homewrecker Stunna | Runaway Lover - Professor Stunna | If I Took You Home - Kevin Atwater | Kill Her Softly - Zyair Malloy | A Taste of the Divine - Yakuza Sukuna | We Are the Night - Qimir

Frenn, that's a lot, do you sleep? Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help. I'm promise I'm good ya'll, I just love writing and I love interacting with ya'll. You have NO idea how much each and every single one of ya'll mean to me. I love the support, I love the comments, I love the reblogs. I'm trying not to disappoint folks, I was on a schedule and well, life happened. I can course correct, I promise. Just gon' take me a little minute. Let me close the smaller series first!

Okay, surely that's it right, frenn? Ahh no, because there's also the asks that have been piling up. Per my pinned post, you know that I have a scatterbrain. Some asks I deleted because they're too similar to what I've done before. Some I'm still trying to picture before I start writing. But the ones I've kept? At last tally it is...33. Some are similar and I'm going to combine them, but yeahhhhh. This isn't a callout post, keep sending those requests in! Just know it's gonna take me a smoooooooth minute. Also, welcome new people, welcome! But not everything needs a part two, I promise. If I write "The End" at the bottom, that truly means the end. No part 2 planned, ain't trynna write a part two. I want to move on sometimes. I love you, but I'll be writing until I'm gray if everything got a part 2. And I wanna get paid for my writing. Which brings me tooo...

Umm, umm, what's this I hear about a book??? Yes! I am actually writing a book based on an ask I received. It was a sweet ask about what kind of story would go with "Handwritten Letter". I said it gave friends to lovers, she fell first, he fell harder type of vibes. It has morphed into dark academia about a shy girl just trying to come into her own. It's a combo of and a love letter about girls like me, girls like you, each and every person who identifies as a Soft Black Girl. And I already have *so* many ideas about other books I want to do. There will be one based on the Mr. Black series I wrote. There will also be a vampire one! I just can't decide yet which will be the second book I put out. I'm leaning towards vampire because Terry is HEAVY on the brain ya'll. And he'd make a sexy vamp. But anywhooo...

I say all this to say that I'm not a machine. I'm not that quick despite appearances. I may not seem like I have any chill, but I've been fantasizing and turning over these fics in my head for days or weeks before I sit down to write. And I'm not saying to stop. Your support is exactly why I feel good enough about my writing to sit and write an entire book! I want to be a full time author. I want to share my ideas with the world. I'm just slow lmfaoooooo.

In the mean time, I hope you're hitting up all these amazing writers on here. I hope you're commenting and reblogging and showing love on here. I will keep saying it. This site will DIE and these BLACK writers will LEAVE if people keep stealing, not commenting, not reblogging, asking for part 2s and never showing love. Fandom is a community, not a pillar. No one know it's you behind that avatar, go crazy! Go nuts. Show nuts. whatever.

Love, love, love you all. If you read this far, drop something funny in the comments. Or go unhinged in my asks about Terry. Don't get me started about that man, but go awff about him because that's my baby favaaa.

no pressure tags: @chaos-4baby @j0kers-light @umber-cinders @harmshake @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone

[blorger]

The Great Longbottom Bully Chronicles: Malfoy edition

Draco is often described in fics as having been Neville's worst bully but is that actually backed by canon ? This intrepid reporter scoured the books for any and all interactions between the two; the results?

See for yourself:

section A: active bullying

Philosopher's Stone is The Book when it comes to any and all Malfoy-based mistreatments of Neville. In PS we have the following interactions:

1)

Draco is a maladjusted little gremlin who doesn't know how to show curiosity for Neville's remembrall in a healthy manner; I give this a 3/10 on the bully scale

2)

Draco straight up curses Neville (the curse itself is treated as funny, Evil Draco is the evil problem), 8/10

same scene, apparently Draco stopped for a chat amidst all the leg locking; middling attempt, 6/10

3)

Draco delivers a group insult at Harry's second match and includes a Neville section, he did not expect any backtalk; 7/10

4)

off-screen forbidden forest hijinks. Harry considers it a joke, does Draco? Does Neville? not enough info; 5/10

BONUS ROUND

Lastly, I'm going to add this conversation from ootp, :

Draco here is indulging in his favorite pastime, Harry-baiting, and Neville is just a bystander. Draco does not seem to know about Neville's parents and he wasn't the intended target but I give this 10/10 because of the psychic damage it causes.

These are actually all the interactions Neville and Draco have in canon: a whole bunch in book 1 and then nothing. This intrigued me so I went looking for:

section B: Draco talking about Neville (but not to him)

1)

This takes place in book 1, during the remembrall scene. Draco is putting on a performance for his fellow Slytherins but actually concentrates very little on Neville's incident, this is literally all he says about him

2)

This takes place in Half-blood Prince, during the compartment scene (wherein Harry is a nosey nancy). This is the only time Draco talks about Neville with no Gryffindors in sight. He is not performing for an audience, merely having a routine discussion with his friends; this gives us the clearest picture of his actual attitude towards Neville (in one word: dismissive). Neville is mentioned in passing and immediately forgotten.

section B (the other way): Neville talking about Draco

1)

This is from book 5. Draco claimed to know a NEWT examiner, Neville shares what he knows. Not even a direct mention.

2)

This is from book 6, Neville saw Malfoy go by. Riveting.

Again, I expected more. Finally, I checked the text for any neutral interactions between the two that may have happened offscreen, as in: both Draco and Neville were in the same location, information was shared between the two (or, more likely, shared by one of them with a third party and then overheard by the other) and no one ended up maimed or otherwise negatively impacted. This brings us to:

section C: ordinary conversations

1)

Again from book 1. Neville finds out about Norbert and tries to help, no known reaction from Draco

2)

From book 3. Draco was getting ready for his yearly train visit to Harry on the way to Hogwarts and somehow ended up in the general vicinity of Neville.

section D: conclusion

While my first instinct was to assume that the instances of bullying from book 1 would repeat themselves during the following years, it appears that Draco and Neville barely interact with each other from the ages of 12 onwards.

Crabbe and Goyle are actually shown to have a more consistently antagonistic relationship with Neville than Draco does: it's them who Neville ends up fighting in book 1 (during Harry's second quidditch match), it's them who laugh when Snape admonishes him in potions in book 3 (immediately post Buckbeak, Draco is present and does not react to Neville) and finally, it's Crabbe who straight up chokes him in book 5 (in the DA vs inquisitorial squad kerfuffle in Umbridge's office).

One can perhaps assume that Draco's bullying continues as the years go on but goes unnoticed by Harry (our POV in the books) but I don't see this happening for one reason and one reason only: this is not what we observe from Neville's interactions with his actual greatest bully: Snape.

The narrative often makes space for Snape's remarks towards Neville (and their effect on him) regardless of plot relevance and they only increase in frequency as the books progress, so much so that in book 3 he is presented as Neville's greatest fear (by way of boggart).

The bullying somewhat plateaus around book 4 (where we can start seeing a shift in how jkr portrays both of them) and Snape and Neville eventually stop interacting completely after book 5, yet we are still presented with a number of interactions between the two that easily dwarfs Draco and Neville's. If Draco was actually a constant negative presence in Neville's life I'd expect to see a similar pattern and yet there is none.

tldr: Neville and Draco have actually very little to do with each other.

As a little treat, here's the only time Lucius Malfoy talks to Neville

Dude didn't have to roast him so hard, but he did.

[crash-and-cure]

Devil In Your Eyes (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: It’s a party and you’re invited to the mysterious and eclectic Mr. Preley’s estate, to properly meet your father’s employer.

A/N: This is based on this request here made by @itlover8000​. And I know I promised to have the next part of If I Were You up, but I'll post later as to why it may take a little longer than originally planned.  This one was a lot of fun to write, and I hope to god that I did the mafia aspect justice, while still keeping reader relatively in the dark. Let’s hope we don’t have a repeat of last time and it gets in the tags the first time. Also just to give a timeline as to the fic, in this story Elvis was pretty much drafted right before he met the colonel which halted his entire music career and he started his criminal one right after returning stateside. If you would like to be added to my taglist let me know!

Warnings: Yandere!Elvis but also introducing... Mafia Boss!Elvis, though he’s not called that in the story. There are themes of delusional, manipulative, and gaslighting behvaior depicted. Smut, including oral (f. recieving) and first time are depicted. Sexual tension galore. Implied violence toward reader’s father. Gratuitous but non-sexual use of the word Daddy, but more in the general southern sense of affectionately referring to one’s father. Reader is young but over 18 when she meets Elvis for the first time. Please do not interact if you are under 18. 

Word Count: 13.9k

My Masterlist

When you were young you asked your daddy what he did.

"I’m an accountant, little bug" he said with a kiss on your forehead.

When you were a little older, you asked him what does an accountant do?

"I handle money for other people Sweetheart,'" he would say as he looked at rows and rows of numbers that may as well have been hieroglyphics to you.

The boldest question you ever asked him was how much he made as an accountant. You asked because another girl had invited you over to her house and yours was nicer by far, which was weird because she had told you that her dad was an accountant as well.

He stiffened at that question, and it almost looked as though he were trembling. He took a swig of his drink and he would tell you "don't worry about where the money comes from Gem. Worry about where it's goin'."

Before you could argue further he reminded you of that upcoming school dance and how you deserve a real nice dress to go. That's how he would handle any follow up questions afterward.

You're daddy was an accountant, but you didn't live like an accountant's daughter. Your mama passed when you were real little and ever since then your daddy did his best to spoil you with the nicest jewelry, the finest clothes, and the fanciest schools in all of Memphis.You hardly even remember your mama, but that’s not something you say out loud anymore because of how sad he would get at that thought. 

You’re given everything you could want, but these days it feels as though you’re rarely ever given what you actually want. 

Gem he called you as a pet name, because even with all the money and wealth he had gotten over the years, he wanted you to know that you were his most precious. He had worked hard to raise you without a mama, and as an accountant he did his best to earn a living for you to thrive. 

But not a lot of things about his job made sense. He never went to an office, some men would bring boxes and boxes of papers to your house, and would take others away. He rarely ever let you have friends over because he worried about them looking into said boxes. But the oddest thing about his job would be how the whole world seemed to stop the moment the phone rang.

The phone calls weren't that frequent all things considered, but he would drop any and everything to answer it. That was one of the few rules your house had, to always pick up the phone and to always hand it over if a Mr. Presley called. You’ve answered the phone a few times and heard from the mysterious Mr. Presley, but it was never more than a few words asking for daddy, who was always quick to drop whatever he was doing to answer the call. The conversation between the two of them would always be over before you even left the kitchen, and within minutes daddy would be out the door and be gone for a few hours.

When you were little you had a slight resentment toward Mr. Presley for how busy he kept your daddy, even going so far as to slip him a letter in one of those boxes when you were 8 or so, asking him to give your daddy less work so he can play with you more. That was one of the only times that your daddy had ever yelled at you, and it was apparently your polite tone and Mr. Presley’s good sense of humor that prevented your daddy from losing his job. Now his eccentric ways of doing business are the only thing keeping you from going stir-crazy and giving you some much needed breathing room from your daddy. 

You were going to graduate this weekend, but you could hardly say you were looking forward to not being able to go to school anymore. Daddy seems to hover around you more and more these days, you guess, because he’s trying to keep you in the nest as long as possible at this point. These days it’s rare for you to even leave the house period, and forget about leaving the house without him. 

Of course you tried to make the best of it, afterall you had spent years wishing he would be more present in your life, and not just in your house. But it’s hard not to feel embarrassed when your daddy is a constant looming presence at every dance and social event your senior year. He doesn’t even trust you anymore to be alone with your girlfriends, so forget about being with a boy. 

It felt like you were hardly out of his sight anymore, and you were suffocating. Ironically enough the most freedom you had anymore was in school, where you didn’t have to worry about him listening in on your girl talk or chasing away every boy that even glanced your way. You had tried talking to him about it only to be met with some half-hearted apologies and promises to let up once you were out of high school. Though with how from how much he’s dissuaded you from making any plans over the summer due to a mysterious trip to he’s planning, you aren’t holding your breath.

Even the night before your graduation, you could hardly expect much. While your friends were out and about on the town, you were relegated to packing for said trip. The flight was on Sunday, and you were hoping to use your daddy’s promise of letting up to go properly celebrate with them after the ceremony.

You truly believed it was going to be a night like any other, until you hear a knock at the door only to find a decently sized gift box, with a large bow on top sitting at your front door. To Y/N written on the tag in beautiful calligraphy. With graduation being tomorrow it's not too surprising to receive a gift, but when you open it up you find a pair of masks (one a simple black domino mask, the other a beautifully embellished, soft blue venetian mask) and you’re confused by the gift until you find a thick piece of cardstock at the bottom of the box. 

Huh, so Mr, Presley’s throwing a party, you think idly as you look at the invitation for you and your daddy. It’s odd and a bit rude that you received an invite the day of the party, but that doesn’t seem very out of character, when you consider the bizarre ways he does business. You know what Masquerade Balls were, you were gunning for it to be the theme when you were on the Prom committee, but ended up losing to Tina Fike’s Midnight in Paris theme. 

Picking up the blue mask you can’t help but think as to how perfectly it matches your prom dress in color. You hadn’t been able to wear it due to the shop messing up the dates and not having it finished in time, so your only option was to wear one of their loaner dresses that didn’t quite fit right. They ended up finishing the dress by the next Saturday, and it’s sat in your closet, unworn, taunting you ever since. 

It seems like the stars have finally aligned, and considering that this is from Mr. Presley, there is absolutely no way your daddy would refuse an invitation from him. He’s been called in for business in the middle of the night, you doubt this will even register as being unusual to him.

“Daddy! Daddy, look what just came!” you exclaim, bursting into his office. You don’t even question why the invitation was addressed specifically to you, and not him. Nor why you see the blood drain from his face as he reads the letter. You’re busy picturing what will undoubtedly be the ball of your dreams.

“Gem, uhhh….” he swallows hard at this one. “Your graduation tomor-”

“Oh I know,” you cut him off. “But since it’s at noon, I figure it won’t be too bad if we stay up a little later.” You say as you turn around to start rifling through his suits, to find something appropriately black tie for him to wear. 

“Baby, I…” he swallows hard. “I got the dates wrong for the tickets. Our flights leave at 6 tomorrow morning,” he said with a sad pitying look on his face. 

“...but my graduation is at noon tomorrow.��� 

“I know,” he says solemnly.

“...”

“...”

“Oh.” 

“Sweetheart, I know you’re upset,” he says, reaching for you, but you jerk yourself away. 

“I’m not,” you reply, your voice cracking as you try to hold back your tears as best as you can. 

“I know, Baby girl,” he said, bringing you closer to his shoulder. “But you gotta trust me when I say that this is for the best. I’ll explain everything when we get there, but for now,”  he says, giving you a sad kiss to your forehead, “Just go finish packing.”

“...ok daddy.”

You had been packed and ready for weeks by this point, so as you lay in bed, you try to justify it in your head, try to imagine where this mysterious place he was taking you could be that would warrant skipping your graduation ceremony and missing what could be the last time you would see many of your friends. But short of the moon, you can’t. Anywhere in the world you could be, but the one place you want to be tomorrow is with all of them.

So a grand party, your graduation, and possibly the last time you would be seeing many of your friends are all the things you wanted but would miss, in favor of something you didn’t even want in the first place. 

You hold up the blue mask in front of your face and you imagine the kind of party it would be. Your mind conjures up the most lavish of gowns and the best music. The riveting conversations to be had and the interesting people to meet. The more you thought about it the more tantalizing it became. But you quickly scrub those useless ideas in your head. 

It’s a party for daddy’s boss, you think to yourself. What could be more boring than that?

Not to mention, even if you did go, you recall how boring of a time you had at your prom as you could practically feel your daddy breathing down your neck the whole time. 

But daddy was still here, you didn’t hear any of the usual sounds for when he was about to leave and you would be forced to stay with Old Mrs. Sack next door. So he’s staying home, is what you think. This would mark the first time you’ve ever seen your daddy reject an invitation from Mr. Presley.

Well he wasn’t technically invited, you were… your eyes snapped open at that thought. So really it would be on the invited person as to whether or not you would go, so technically you could go on your own. You aren’t his plus one, he’s yours. 

It’s a party for his boss, you argue with yourself, so it’s not as though you would be able to go without him. At that moment, do you realize that it'll be the first time in almost a year since you’ve done anything without him practically trying to hold your hand. You think you know why your freedom has been severely stifled as of late and it all stems from a single act of rebellion almost a year ago to the day. 

You remember last summer when your daddy had pulled you out of school early claiming it was going to be an early summer vacation. But what proceeded was perhaps the worst week of your life. During the days when he wasn’t driving for hours on end, he was glancing over his shoulder wherever you were stopped at. And those nights he would hardly sleep a wink in the rundown motels you would be stopped at, and you could hardly blame him because you were very much in the same boat. Worst of all was how little you knew about the whole situation, and you hated how even within the confined space of the car he was somehow still able to dodge the questions you had. 

Where are we going?

Why now?

When will we be going home?

By the end of the week you were at the end of your rope and wanted to go home, you missed your bed, you missed your friends, and you were bored out of your mind within the motel. There was only so much TV you could handle before your brain would start dripping out of your ears, and you had already read the few books you had managed to grab before daddy forced you out of the house, a couple times each at this point. 

Your daddy was never one to deny you anything you asked for, and so knowing the power of your requests, you never tried to push it. Even when he showered you with gifts, you were careful to accept it but not ask for much else. So it was jarring that of the few requests you have made on this trip, all of them were rejected, in spite of the fact that they were all relatively simple. A request to stop at some corny roadside attraction. No, it’s a waste of time. A new book from that store across from the service station. No, we’re trying to save money. A quick dip into the motel pool. No, you’ll get pink eye.

This one was especially infuriating due to the disgustingly hot summer night you found yourself in, one that makes your sweat sticky and your clothes cling to your body. To add further insult to injury the room your daddy rented was seemingly the only room without a working AC. He was somehow able to fall asleep with the TV still on and you took the opportunity to stare longingly at the pool of the El Rey motel in the middle of who knows Texas, doing your best to ignore the uncomfortable tacky feeling of your shirt. 

You hadn’t been allowed to do anything this whole trip, and you’re sick of it. His latest excuse being your breaking point, treating you like some little kid that didn’t know any better. You had just turned eighteen and yet he still insists on treating you like a little girl. This is your last summer before your senior year of high school, and you’re spending it without your friends far from home.

But… did you really need his permission? 

Fine, you thought as you gazed at the temptingly blue pool right outside your window. If he ain’t gonna listen to me, then I don’t gotta listen to him. People can call you spoiled all they want, but you thought you were at the very least entitled to water in the desert.  

You grabbed a hold of one of the towels in the bathroom and tip-toed past your daddy’s bed as he sleeps like a corpse, and closed the door to your room as you left as quietly as you could. There weren’t that many cars in sight and not a soul to be seen, and with it being well past midnight you figured the coast was clear for your little act of rebellion as you padded your way barefoot across the parking lot pavement. 

You didn’t pack a swimsuit with you, didn’t have the time to, but you figure your regular underwear covers about as much as it would. You still double and triple check that you’re alone and no lights are on and no windows are open in the surrounding rooms. The humid night air makes the pool all the more inviting and you quickly shimmy out of your skirt and peel your blouse off your body and before you can lose your nerve you jump into the pool. 

It’s a nice shock to your system with the water being cool but not frigid, and as you opened your eyes beneath the water you felt like you were transported to a different world entirely. The light coming from the pool didn’t help clear your blurry vision, but as you look up and see the night sky meet the surface of the water, it looks as though there is no distance separating the two. As though your hand could break the top of the water and you would suddenly find yourself out amongst the stars.

It should be terrifying, but it’s not. In fact it's exhilarating. There’s no one here but you and the unjudging night. You feel like you’re the only person alive and as you breach the surface of the water to take a deep satisfying breath you feel reborn. You feel freer than you ever have been, you're not the perfect unquestioning daughter any longer, you’re a woman who can demand answers and leave if she so chooses.

You were always a good girl, and always listened to your daddy, because you wanted to feel like you deserved what he gave you. But all that pales in comparison to the intoxicating feeling this act of rebellion fills you with, and wanting to make this feeling last, you forgo your original plan of a quick dip and choose to make the most of your time there. You do your best to try to swim like a mermaid. You swim to the bottom to get a feel of the pool tiles that make up the palm tree design. You repeatedly try to break your own record for holding your breath, and you let yourself float to the surface and enjoy the view of the night sky above and the liberating feeling of being weightless.

But it’s the slight burning aroma in the air that drags you back down to Earth. It smells like tobacco and leather and various other spices you can’t quite place. You raise your head out of the water and look around to find the source of the fragrance. The chlorine has made your vision a bit hazy, but you can see clearly enough to see the handsome man dressed all in black, save for a blood red tie, sitting near the pool and chewing on a cigar. 

Your first instinct, stupidly enough, is to duck back into the pool and hope he goes away, but that hope dies as quickly as you begin to feel the burning in your lungs for oxygen. You tentatively surface figuring you’ve been caught already, no use in denying it. 

“I didn’t realize there were pool hours,” you say through your teeth.

The handsome stranger gives an amused huff at that. “Now that’s a lie if I ever heard one,” he states, a small smirk creeping up on his face. “Don’t worry Darlin’. I won’t tell if you don’t.” he says, using his cigar to point behind you where you find a no smoking sign. You let out a small giggle, some of the tension sapping out of you as at this little conspiracy you hold with this stranger.

“Sorry, I ain’t used to doin’ that,” you say, casting your eyes downward where you finally realize how your cotton bra became slightly see-through, and you pray that he’s too far away to notice. He raises an eyebrow at your answer.

“That I believe,” he chuckles. “So you’re a good girl afterall,” he remarks, and something lights up within you as he says that. The closest you’ve ever felt to this was when you had been kissing Mickey, your next door neighbor, at your friend Jasmine’s birthday party. It had been a simple game of spin the bottle and the kiss had started innocently enough in that hallway closet, as you were too shy to do so in front of everyone. Though it quickly turned into something more when he had put his hand on your lower back to bring you closer to him and something akin to lightning crackled underneath his touch and up your spine. The feeling had been so intense that you audibly gasped and pulled away from him, and now that same sensation runs through your body again. 

What was scariest most of all was that this man was able to cause this with his voice alone, a good five feet away from you. 

“Not always,” you answer, your voice only slightly cracking in nervousness. You swim closer to where he’s sitting, in part to hide yourself from his view, though mostly to hear him better, as you’re inexplicably drawn to him. 

He chuckles at your answer, “Now that’s the biggest lie I ever heard,” he tells you, sure in his assessment of you despite the fact he hasn’t even known you for more than a minute. You're caught between being flustered and offended, at how accurate it is. 

“What gave me away?” You ask not to be snippy, but genuinely curious, how he was able to have you pegged so quickly. 

“Between your big ole’ doe eyes and your school girl get-up right here,” he said gesturing to the clothes you had haphazardly left on the deck chair. “Figured you’re too honest for your own good.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” 

He looks a bit taken aback by your response, before he gives an amused sigh, “No. Fact it’s a little refreshin’ to know people like you still exist. I’m Elvis by the way.” 

“Well Elvis, you still haven’t answered my question.”

His lips curl up, amused at your boldness. “It can be, if you meet the wrong sorts.” 

“And are you the wrong sorts?”

“Y’know you ask a lotta questions for someone whose name I don’t even know,” he remarks, though his smile keeps the tone light. “But to answer your question, it depends on who ya’ ask.”

“Well, I’m Y/N and if you ask me you look like a decent man.”

“And who taught ya’ what decent men look like?” he says as he leans closer to you, resting his elbows on his knees,

“My daddy, “ you say earnestly. “He’s a good, honest man, so I know what to look out for.” 

He narrows his eyes at that as he takes a puff of his cigar. You’ve never been a good liar, never quite figuring out what your apparently obvious tell was, but everyone you've ever met is apparently able to. But whatever it is he was looking for he apparently found, as he proceeds to ask, “So what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ all the way down in bumfuck Texas?”

“Oh umm…” you say, momentarily shocked by his free use of such language. “I’m with my daddy on vacation.”

“No kiddin’, where y’all headed to?”

“I honestly don’t know,” you sigh, putting your head down on your arms resting on the pool's edge. “He says he wants to keep it a surprise.”

“You havin’ any fun?”

“...yes?”

“Now that’s three times you tried lyin’ to me sweetheart,” he chuckles. “One more time, and I may not be so kind.” You don’t really understand why that made your breath quicken.

“You don’t even know my name,” you argue, sinking slightly so that he wouldn’t so easily see his effect on you. “How do you figure you know me so well?”

“I work just about everywhere, and part of my job is knowin’ a good liar from a bad one,” he explains. “And you sweetheart are one a the worst I ever seen.”

“What do you even know about lying?” you ask, a bit defensive of the truth.

“I know how to do it right,” he states genially, before raising an eyebrow to blow some smoke out of his nose. “I can teach you if you want?” You’re at a bit of a loss, though you quickly shake your head yes as you figure what’s the harm in hearing him speak. 

Now that you’re getting a better look and the chlorine is seeping out of your eyes, you can truly see how attractive he is. He’s the scary type of good-looking, the type that makes it hard to look at him for too long, lest all your breath be taken from your chest. You have to consciously rip your eyes away from his face several times so that you don’t get too caught up in it. Truly he’s not like any man you’ve ever met before, but that’s not saying much considering how little you ever really interact with men. Sure there are boys your own age, and a few teachers here and there but, none of them talk with you so candidly, ironically enough given that this is a conversation about lies. 

“Now the key to lyin’ is to always sprinkle it in with the truth,” he would say. You liked the way he spoke to you, not just because of how he sounds, but because of the way he treated you as you spoke. When he spoke to you, he made it feel as though he were passing on the secrets of the universe to you, and you just about hung onto every single word he uttered. You even bring most of your body out of the water simply to hear him better. 

“Why don’t we play a game now lil’ one?” you face heating up slightly with that nickname he gave you. “Two lies and a truth.”

“Isn’t it two truths and a lie?”

“Usually, but you need to get better at the lyin’ bit, so we’re gon’ do it the other way.” he says with a small chuckle.

“Ok,” you say as you exit the pool. “But you go first, and show me how it’s done.”

His lip curls up into a full blown smile, but it quickly drops and he fixes his gaze on the sky. You’re confused at his reaction until you glance down and remember you’re not wearing a proper swimsuit. You scramble forward and do your best to quickly dry off and put your clothes back on all the while as Elvis keeps his eyes closed like a gentleman.

“Thank you,” you said quickly as you sat down and draped the soaked towel over your shoulders to hide the way your shirt clings to your wet brassiere. “Why do I even need to learn how to lie?” 

“Sweetheart, take it from someone who knows what the world’s like,” he says. “Being good and honest won’t get you shit in life, especially not what you want.”

“Well…” you swallow unsure of your next words. “Now I think that’s a lie,” you say boldly. 

He quirks a brow at this, and a bit of satisfied smile can also be just barely perceived as he is evidently impressed with your ability to stand up to him. “Y’know people are gonna be stirrin’ real soon, why don’t we head up to my room and finish up this game properly,” he offers casually, as though he was offering you a stick of gum. 

You’re absolutely struck dumb by that question. Of course you’re not so naive as to what’s on his mind, you got the same wait till marriage speech every other girl in Sunday school got. And as adamant as you were that you would, it’s a very different situation to face now that the hypothetical has become a reality. 

To say the least, that man had ignited something within you that you’re not sure how to say no to. 

Scratch that. 

You’re not sure you want to say no to. 

“Y/N?” 

You whip around so fast when you hear that familiar voice behind you. Your daddy is standing at the doorway, eyes darting between you and Elvis and he looks like he’s close to passing out. “Hi, Daddy, I-I uh…” your mind blanking, everything Elvis had just taught you about how to lie. “This-this isn’t what it l-looks like?” you say, but your tone makes it sound more like a question. A quick glance at Elvis sees him pursing his lips in a futile attempt to hide his smile, at your miserable excuse for a lie.

You look back at your daddy to find that his stare is focused solely on Elvis, who as of right now has perhaps the most easy-going expression in the world. 

“Get inside and dry yourself off, gem. I don’t want you gettin’ sick.” he would tell you forlornly. 

“Yes, daddy,” you answer obediently. Though it was as you were about to enter the room did you look back to Elvis still having not moved from his seat, whose focus is still solely on you, not even acknowledging your daddy. You want to say goodbye to him, but you're stopped by a familiar hand on your shoulder.

“Head inside, Y/N,” he says, his voice detached and his eyes distant. “I’m gonna have a few words with that man.”

You expected him to be angry at you, and if you’re being honest, a part of you you wanted him to be. And it was for a selfish reason of just wanting something to justify you breaking the rules in some way. But this is worse, he’s not mad, he’s not even disappointed. He looks heartbroken, seeing you with Elvis out there, knowing you didn’t listen to him. 

You’re under the cool spray of the showerhead for a good half hour trying your best to scrub the chlorine smell off of your skin and waiting for that heat in your belly that Elvis caused to die down. You find your daddy sitting facing the window, and you can just barely make out his reflection in the window. There is a solemn expression on his face as he fixes his gaze out toward the pool area.  

“Gem, I-I know you ain’t been havin’ any fun on this here trip,” he would say, not turning around to face you. “Believe me when I say we were going for a good reason,” you try not to perk up at his use of past tense, but you can’t help it. “Bu-but things changed sweetheart, and it’s up to you.”

“Up to me to what?” you ask.

There is a bit of a pause at that, and if it weren’t for that look of pain that you see in his reflection as you said that, you may have even thought he hadn’t heard you. “...To choose if we go home or not.”

“Oh…” you say, unsure of this offer. Choice is not exactly something you’re used to with daddy, aside from the occasional “pick your favorite color.” So you’re shocked at the question to say the least having fully expected to simply suffer through the rest of this trip and hope the destination was worth it. But you’ve never been a good liar in your life. “Yes, I do daddy.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep long breath before you see him nod his head, still not turning around to face you. “Well… that’s that then…” he says, as though he’s resolved himself to something, though you don’t know what. “I-I’m gonna go… settle up with the office right now. You get some rest cuz we’ll be heading home come mornin’.” Not wanting to jinx it, you follow his orders and lay down back on the scratchy sheets.

The guilt still eats at you, and as he opens the door, you quickly apologize to him for your disobedience, but his nod of acknowledgement does little to ease that uneasy feeling in your belly.

The trip back was in some ways better this time around, but you could hardly say that it was any more bearable. Daddy warnings came true and you woke up with a pretty bad bout of pink eye, but he wasn’t so stingy about either his time or money so stops were frequent. You were well beyond the age that you should enjoy the cheesy tourist traps, but they are welcome reliefs to the hours long car rides wrought with silence that would follow you and daddy from state to state. Not to mention you’re actually aware of your intended destination this time around, but you do your best to stamp down the burning questions within as to why such a heel turn, especially since the change in plans came immediately after your little stunt.

If he was mad at you, you wish he would just say so, but you can’t even sum it up to that anymore considering the way he looks at you sometimes. There was always a bit of a quiet sadness in his eyes when he looked at you that never quite left even once you got home. He got better and better at hiding it after you brought it up to him but you would still on occasion find that expression on his face from time to time when he thought you weren’t looking. Your best guess is that you’re starting to look more like your mama. 

There were some nights where you would wonder if any of this new treatment from your daddy would have happened had you simply not gone into that pool, or even simply gotten out when you had promised yourself you would. You’d like to believe if you had known that that dive would have been your last taste of freedom, you would have done a better job at savoring it. That being said, when you caught a pair of icy blue eyes watching you and your daddy leave the El Rey motel, you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret anything about that night.

Daddy was being even more tight-lipped as to what this trip is about this time around. What’s worse, is that he’s not describing the trip as fun or even necessarily relaxing, just “necessary.” with no further explanation. 

Elvis’ words about what happens to good and honest people ring in your mind. And as you lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, you ponder whether or not there was any truth to that statement. 

You want to go to this party, if for the simple reason that you would like to dress up and have some fun. You want to go to your graduation ceremony, because you worked hard to finish school, and want to see the fruits of your labor. You want to celebrate with your friends for what may very well be the last time, because… because… well because you want to and it doesn’t seem like too much to ask for.

In another life they all aligned perfectly so that you would be able to do all three of these things, but you live in this life and a stupid flight for a trip you didn’t even want in the first place took priority over all of it. 

Of course… that is if you get on that flight.

No that’s crazy, you think to yourself. You have to be on that flight tomorrow morning, which is why you need to be ready to leave and so you have to go to bed early. It would be a real shame if you were out so long and slept through the flight. 

Maybe… maybe if I did stay out long enough and we miss the flight… There wouldn’t be any reason why I couldn’t go to the Graduation ceremony. You feel awful for these thoughts, and you recognize how sneaky and manipulative the plan forming in your head is. You do your best to ignore them by trying to remember how much your daddy wanted to go. But you want to be with your friends tomorrow, you want to graduate, and see them off properly, because your daddy hasn’t given you a clue as to when you would be coming back. 

People have always remarked how lucky you were of all the things you have in your life, but you’ve always known that there was a difference between taking what you’re given and getting what you want. Every fancy or expensive thing you own comes with a story. They’re really all the same, daddy missed a school thing, a recital, a birthday, etc., because of work and in return he would give you something expensive in lieu of his absence. 

You were of course grateful for these things but all you ever really wanted was your daddy there. So you always tried to strive towards earning your keep with good grades, good attitude, good social standing, truly all the markings of a perfect daughter. All of this done in an effort to earn his presence.

And what has the perfect daughter earned? You think bitterly to yourself as you pack your outfit into a garment bag. You quickly fix your hair up all fancy like and fix your makeup, all the while planning your escape route. 

It’s truly a miracle that you were able to make your way out of your bedroom window without a scratch, but you’re not about to count your blessings yet, as your plan hinges on being able to get there, and you have no idea how to drive. But you know someone who does, which is how you find yourself pounding on Mickey’s front door. 

He was the typical boy next door type who was your first kiss as well as the kid who put bugs in your hair when you were little. He was home from college for the summer with his shiny Lincoln Continental, his daddy gave you and according to his little sister, very sweet on you. He was therefore the best/only candidate as your date to this thing. You were lucky enough that he almost immediately agreed, and bolted upstairs to grab a suit to wear. You’re on a bit of a time crunch, so you quickly change in his little sister's room, and before you know it the both of you are on the road.

“S-so Y/N, who-whose party is this anyway?” he stutters out once, while stiffly but trying to appear casually resting his arm behind your seat.

“Oh my daddy’s boss,” you say casually. “I don’t know his full name, I just know him as Mr. Presley.”

He goes a bit, bug-eyed at your statement. “Re-really?”

You confirm, a bit confused at his reaction. “Do you know him?”

He restlessly taps at the steering wheel, before swallowing and saying that he knows of him. “Di-did he invite you personally?”

“Yeah,” you say, and you show him the invitation that was addressed to you personally. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh,” he responds, the worry still evident in his voice. “Does your dad know you’re goin’ there.”

You swallow, nervous at this new line of questioning. “...yes,” you answer looking out the window to avoid being seen by him. 

“Does he know I’m with you right now?”

Your tongue is weighed down by the lies, and you’re unable to speak, so you merely hum in the affirmative.

“Hmm…” is all he responds, and the conversation peters out after that, with the only sounds to be heard being the hum of the engine and his anxious rapping of his fingers, as the two of you make your way to the big white house in Whitehaven. 

Finally you come upon the bronze gates of the eye-catching estate. You show the Valet your invitation and they let you through easily, and you’re too busy marveling at the grand residence before you, that you failed to notice the way Mickey seemed to be sweating through his suit right next to you. No, you're occupied by trying to get the mask to sit just right to notice, and when you hand over the domino mask, he declines stating he’ll put it on after he parks the car. He tells you to go on ahead without him, and so lost to your excitement, you do just that, trusting that you would meet up with him soon. 

As you made your way to the back of the house, your mind was already conjuring up this ideal image of your grand entrance to the party, where everyone would stop what they were doing to marvel at your beauty. Where you would be the mysterious unknown woman who had just arrived and took everyone’s breath away. 

You realize your folly when you actually do come into view of the gathering at large and many people do notice your arrival. It’s not as flattering as you would have thought, and regret starts to seep into your belly. 

The men wore pretty standard tuxedos, while the women were all wearing bold reds, striking golds, or even sophisticated black dresses, making you and your soft blue and white prom dress stick out like a sore thumb. It was almost like you had “outsider” written on your forehead. The men don’t really see you or actively look away from you and the many women look like they want to rip your hair out or pinch your cheeks. Despite how perfectly the dress fits you feel like that little girl who tried walking around the house in her sick mama's shoes, trying desperately to get her to smile, only to end up twisting her ankle, and making mama worry more.

You overhear some people say how celebrities like BB King, Johnny Cash, and even Frank Sinatra were present, and this just further tightens the knot in your stomach, and you wonder what you are even doing here. 

Not even a full half hour and you’re ready to leave, as you’ve never been put into a situation where you don’t know a single person and you’re far from comfortable simply inserting yourself into conversations. You search to find Mickey, but in spite of the fact that he had worn a pretty distinct suit, you can find neither hide nor hair of him.

This was all too much to handle on your own and you’re silently cursing your earlier, bolder self. The entire floor seems to fall silent for a moment and everyone else’s attention is drawn to one direction for a moment. All except for you, as you take this opportunity to make your way outside of the party to gather yourself. Why did you think this would be a good idea? To go to a party where the few you could only vaguely recognize some, and know not even a single name? You remove your mask, ashamed you ever thought you would be able to pass yourself off as a woman and not the child you were.

All of these doubts are only further compounded as you feel a tap on your bare shoulder. “Pretty sure the point of these things is to wear a mask,” a voice like honey whispers near your ear. You’re so scared that you’ve unknowingly broken a cardinal rule and that you were about to be kicked out, though this eases somewhat as you see a light quirk on this stranger's lips.

Unlike the other men you’d seen at the party, he didn’t wear a simple black mask, no his was far more ornate, and with the burnt burgundy color to match his tie, in stark contrast to his all black suit, overall giving him a very devilish look. Whether it’s the perfectly coiffed hair or the plush lips, something about him feels deeply familiar. 

You’re not able to pinpoint what exactly until you're finally caught by his icy blue gaze that was almost entirely muted by the red of his mask. “Elvis?” And when he gives you that devastating grin of his you launch yourself into him to wrap him in a hug. “What are you doing here?” you question, though you’re glad nonetheless to find at least one somewhat familiar face in a sea of masks.

“Like I said I do business everywhere, ‘specially in Memphis,” he said, pulling away to answer you yet his hands remain on your hips. 

“Oh so you know Mr. Presley?” 

He looks taken aback at your question for the briefest of seconds, before a soft smirk crosses his face. “You can say somethin’ like that,” thoroughly charmed by you. “So whatcha you doin’ in a place like this all by your lonesome?” 

You let out a tired sigh before giving a sad smile and saying, “I don’t even know, anymore.” 

You feel him put a finger under your chin, and you're brought to look him in the face. He looked genuinely concerned for you as he asked you “hey, now what’s wrong lil’ one?”

“Nothing,” you say, trying to dismiss his concerns.

He gives an amused chuckle, and he sounds mighty satisfied with himself as he says, “Still ain’t gotten any better at lyin’, huh Y/N?”

That does get a laugh out of you, albeit a sorry imitation of one. “Can’t believe that’s what you remember about me,” you say.

“I remember alotta things darlin’” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Despite the fact that you’ve only met him twice in total, you know that there is no use in lying to him. So that’s how you find yourself regaling this man with your teenage woes as well as your devious plan to circumvent your fathers wishes. Elvis luckily enough is sympathetic to your plight, and seems thoroughly unimpressed with your fathers reasoning as to why you’re going to miss a major milestone in your life. “This was a bad idea.”

“Nah, it wasn’t a bad idea,” he reassures. “So-so execution, but not a bad plan.”  

“I really should just go home,” you say, shaking your head. You try to turn away from him, only to be lead by the waist back to the party.

“Tell you what, Satnin,” he says. “I’ll take ya’ home by the end of the night. But first you gotta do somethin’ for me.” A devilish smirk crosses his face when he sees your breath quicken. “I want you to be my date.”

“What?” 

“Well the flaw in your plan was, you don’t know anybody else,” he says. “But you know me, and I can make the proper introductions to everyone back there and you don’t gotta be Johnny’s daughter, you can be my new girl.” 

He reaches to take the mask in your hand and steps behind you to put it in place. The more you think about his offer the more it makes sense. You’re alone here, and you could use a friend right about now, and it makes sense for said friend to be someone who is intimately familiar with this sort of lifestyle.

“What'dya say, darlin’,” he says as he quickly fastens the ribbon of your mask in place. “When you wear this mask here you can pretend to be anyone you want to be. So why not pretend to be my date?” He offers his hand to you and you hardly even hesitate a moment to take his hand.

Elvis is able to talk you through how to walk, talk, and overall, how to act like you belong here in the slightest. He doesn’t mind you practically clinging to his arm for most of the night, and he is able to make introductions to almost everybody attending. Elvis even introduces you to the mysterious Mr. Presley, a soft-spoken salt and pepper haired gentleman, who insists on being called Vernon. You hope your face doesn’t show it, but this is far from the man you always imagined in your head, the man whose name alone could make your daddy quake in his boots. 

Though whatever thoughts you have about your host is quickly wiped away as Elvis quickly moves you to the next, more interesting guest. People have a tendency to gravitate towards Elvis, offering their congratulations to him, and remarks on how you’re one lucky lady. You bask in this, as for what for the first time in your life, people look at you and don’t see a child they see a woman. 

It is around midnight when your good mood comes to a screeching halt, as you hear a loud commotion coming from the front of the party. “Y/N!? Y/N!? Where are you!” you hear your daddy yell amongst the crowd, accosting several women with even a passing resemblance to you. You quickly try to shield your face with your hand for all the good it would do, your face burning in humiliation. 

Elvis seeing your distress quickly takes you by the elbow and leads you out of the bright lights of the dance floor, and into the shadows of the outside, and before you know it he’s leading you through the backdoors of the grand house.

“I don’t think we’re allowed in here.” you whisper to him as you still continue to follow his lead.

“Trust me, baby,” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulders, where you notice an open bottle of champagne. “Boss man won’t mind too much.” 

“What’s this party for anyway?” you ask as you relieve yourself of the shoes you had been wearing, and take a seat next to him on the ground beside the couch.

“Mr. Presley’s gettin’ hitched tomorrow.” he says flippantly, all the while removing his mask.

“Oh…” you say, glancing down at your blue and white dress. “Oh dear lord, and I showed up in white,” you say, burying your face in your hands, embarrassed beyond belief at your faux pas. 

“Don’t think nothin’ of it baby,” he says, taking your chin in his hand, to bring you to look at him. “Most a the folks out there don’t even know. ‘Sides you dressed all in blue brings back some nice memories a Texas.”

“I wasn’t exactly wearing blue, back then.”

“You weren’t exactly wearin’ much a anythin’,” he says with a coy grin, and you swat at his shoulder in retaliation. “Y’know, I been thinkin’ a lot ‘boutchu this past year and what you said ‘bout bein’ honest.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, bringing your hand up to his lips. “I realized I needed more honest people in my life.”

“Oh,” you answer simply, unsure as to how to really respond to that. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“But enough ‘bout that. You remember that game we tried playin’ back in Texas?”

“The lying one?”

“That’s the one. Let’s play that again, ‘cept this time we’ll make it a little more interesting.” With a soft smile he holds up the half-filled bottle of champagne, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he says, “you guess wrong or the other person gets it right, you gotta take a hit of this.” You think only for a moment, before ultimately agreeing, not wanting the night to end just yet. 

You didn’t expect to win, but you didn’t expect to lose so miserably. He’s able to suss out any and all lies you state. He even changes the game midway to have it be two truths and a lie, hoping you’ll fare better with only needing to tell one lie rather than two. The few swigs he takes are from when you take your chances and randomly guess as to the true or false statement he’s making. And even then you get the impression it’s more to humor you.

Though as the bottle dwindles, you find yourself becoming bolder with both your lies and your truths, but it was all in an effort to keep up with how fantastical his statements were getting, not just the lies, but the truths as well. It really puts into perspective the kind of life he’s lived compared to you where any of the stories he tells you would be the craziest thing to have happened to anyone, yet they all somehow happened to him.

“I got played on the radio. I’m the most feared man here. I dodged the draft.” He said in one round, nothing about his body language giving him away, but with the amount of champagne you had you doubt you’d have picked up on them anyway. You also can’t quite remember at this point if it was two truths and a lie or two lies and a truth. With his fiendish attitude and rebellious nature you figure it was the last one and you tell him as much. 

“Nah, darlin’, I did my due diligence for the country. Wish I didn’t sometimes, but that’s a whole other story.”

“Wait… you got played on the radio?” The idea of which was mind-blowing to you, but what was more shocking was his sudden shy demeanor. 

“Yes ma’am,” he said, fiddling with one of his rings. “It was a small thing, song didn’t even make it outta the south.”

“Could you play something for me,” you ask, doing your best impression of a doe. You already like the way he speaks, so you can only imagine how it would sound for him to sing. 

His eyes grow soft, at your request, and you're reminded of the pool at the El Rey Motel. How inviting those waters were, and how it felt almost like a cool balm on your restless soul. 

“Maybe next time sweetheart,” he says. “‘Sides it’s your turn, and you ain’t even taken your shot yet,” handing the bottle, where you realize, there is perhaps only a mouthful or two left of the bubbly concoction, and it’s your turn. 

“Ok, hmm…” you muse, after you had taken your drink, swirling the remnants in the bottle. Point wise, you have already most definitely lost the game, but that doesn’t mean you’re about to call it. 

What was it he said about what makes a good lie? You internally ask yourself, trying to remember that little tidbit he gave you almost a year ago. That there’s always a bit of truth sprinkled within. And it’s as you remember this, that an idea suddenly strikes you.

“2 truths and a lie,” you announce to him. “I can’t ride a bike. My favorite candy is Lemonheads. And…” you hesitate, but power through before you lose your nerve completely. “And… I want to kiss you right now,” you’re finally able to stutter out

His eyes widen a little at your audacity, but he’s quick to collect himself, clearing his throat slightly and giving you a rakish smile as he answers. “That second one’s too specific to be fake.” he says, bringing his hands to cup your chin. “And ain’t no way that last ones a lie.” all the while coming closer to you. “So Imma go with the first one bein’ a lie.”

When his lips are maybe an inch away from yours do you put the bottle between the two of you. 

“Drink,” you command, backing away from the bottle slightly. “I cannot ride a bike to save my life, it was the last one that was a lie,” you state, willing your voice not to waiver. “I don’t want to kiss you.” To really drive it home how good you’ve gotten at this lying business.

“O-oh,” he says, looking down ashamed. 

“The truth is… I really, really want to kiss you,” you say, giggling ecstatically that he fell for your little ploy. 

You get the pleasure of seeing a look of shock and confusion pass through his face, before it’s quickly replaced with a look of pride directed solely towards you. You worry slightly until you feel an arm slip around your waist and you're brought closer to him. So close that you find yourself straddling him. You’re not sure if the burning in your face is from embarrassment… or… something else entirely.

“That’s a dirty little trick there darlin’,” he says, his hands firmly on your hips keeping you in place, as though you would even want to leave at this point. “Who taught ya’ to lie like that, huh?”

“You did,” you declare, moving closer to him so that you’re practically nose to nose with him. For as bold as you’re being right now you wait for him to close the distance between the two of you. And luckily for you, you don’t have to wait long. 

Of the few kisses you’ve had, none have ever been even remotely close to this. This isn’t the demure cheek kisses on your porch that just barely grazed the corner of your mouth, nor was it the shy pawings in a hallway closet after a game of spin the bottle. Those were experiences with boys, while Elvis… Elvis is a man. 

It started out similar enough with a soft brushing of your lips with his as he slowly but surely the two of you became bolder and bolder. His lips capture yours to nibble lightly on your bottom lip, which you meet by throwing your arms around his neck. He throws you a bit off balance by planting his hands underneath your thighs, so you steady yourself by planting a hand on his slightly exposed chest. 

It isn’t until you felt his tongue lightly brush against yours, did you pull back gasping for air. You can only imagine the kind of image you made right now with your chest heaving and your no doubt blown out eyes, but from the fiery look in his eyes he seems to enjoy it very much.

He leans forward into you as he starts to leave open mouthed kisses along your neck, which does nothing to help even out your breathing. Especially not when you can feel one of his hands begin to undo the pearl buttons along your back, while the other slowly inched its way under your dress.

“Follow me upstairs baby,” he whispers in your ear. “And I can teach ya’ so much more.”

Thoughts like the fact that this house doesn’t belong to either of you or that your daddy is out there looking for you are far from your mind as you breathlessly say yes to him. As you move to stand up, he stops you, “Take off the dress sweetheart,” he orders softly, his gaze searing into you, while he loosens his tie. “I wanna see all of you.”

You shakily move to stand and you undo the final few buttons on your lower back all the while hyper aware of his stare. You’re still untrained in the arts of seduction so rather than draw it out, you simply let the material drop down and pool at your feet and onto his lap. A part of you feels embarrassed at your undoubtedly boring white cotton bra and panty set you were wearing, and you silently look up and away from him to await his approval.

“That’s my girl,” he hums in approval, and you’re able to release that shuddering breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. Though you quickly draw air back in when you feel him place his hands on your hips and give a quick kiss to your cotton covered kitty. 

Your heart is fluttering in your chest like a hummingbird as he leads you by the hand up the stairs and the warmth in your belly and the fuzziness in your head makes all of it feel like a dream. Not helped by the intensity of his oasis blue eyes, and you’re once again bathed in that same feeling when you were in that motel pool: that of being the only person alive. 

You often thought about that night at the motel, and wondered what would have happened if you were a little quicker on the draw to his invitation back to his room. Through Mrs. Sacks talks and your friends' whisperings you understood the basic mechanics of it, and that if the man was good, it was supposed to be very pleasurable, but not much else. Elvis in many ways was a safe choice to fantasize about, as you never would have guessed you would see him again. 

But as he lays you down in the largest bed you’ve ever seen in your life, do you really begin to question how well your fantasies have prepared you. He removes his shirt with practiced efficiency, all the while keeping his eyes squarely on you, the dim lighting doing little to shield you from his piercing stare. You’re left to pathetically writhe on the bed as he stands back up to unbutton his shirt, not being helped one bit by his bitten off smirk at your state.

You’re practically heaving as he crawls over you, and he captures your lips once more. In the privacy of this bedroom, the kisses turn from tender to filthy. His tongue probing your mouth with wild abandon as one hand deftly unhooks your bra. It is as you’re about to 

“Lord, I’ve dreamed about these,” he says as he drags the soft cotton material off of your chest. You fight the urge to cover yourself, still wanting to obey his earlier command to see all of you. He leaves a trail of open mouth kisses down the slope of your breast until he finally meets a budding peak and takes it into his mouth. The act catches you so off guard that you can’t stop your lewd reaction to it.

“Ain’t a single day passes that I don’t think about you in that pool baby,” he whispers into your skin. The soft mewls from the warmth of his tongue as he laves at your nipples, are swiftly replaced with sharp yelps when you feel his cool breath blow lightly on the moistened area. Part of you doubts you’re even going to survive this night, given the difference in experience between the two of you. “Seein’ your sweet tits just beggin’ to be touched.” and he emphasizes his point with a slight scrape of his teeth on your nipple.

You’re hoping to make up for your lack of experience by sheer enthusiasm, so when you find him making his way off the bed, his eyes fixated on that final piece of clothing that hides your woman hood from his view, you spread your legs, eager to show him how much you wanted him. But when you’re rewarded for your eagerness with a kiss to your inner thigh, that immediately wants you to close them once more, but his strong hands make that impossible. 

“Though I think these are just as wet as they were back then,” he purrs before licking a stipe up the seam of your kitty. You’re lost to the sensation of it, wanting to recoil but simultaneously embrace what he’s stirring up inside of you, much like back then.

You hear a ripping sound coming from him and you suddenly feel the cool night air fully hitting your burning core and you shiver at the delicious sensation of it. Even those few times you were brave enough to do anything remotely close to this it was always over the fabric and now you were left completely defenseless to this man's eyes. And if that’s not enough vulnerability for him, he proceeds to ask how you touch yourself.

You’re at a loss for words at his invasive question, but not so offended that you don’t answer him. And you shamefully tell him how you’ve only ever occasionally rubbed yourself against your pillows to chase that euphoric feeling. 

“I’d like to see that sometime, doll,” he purrs, making you shiver. “But for right now we gotta getcha good and ready for me.”

Before you can question what he means about that, you feel something probe at your entrance, and you feel his fingers soft circle that secret little button you’ve always been too afraid to mess with. You’re a panting mess and you’re giving into whatever feels good at the moment, and you can’t help the way your hips move in tandem with his fingers, as it was simultaneously too much yet not enough. Though you quickly learn what is too much when you feel not one but two of his fingers within you and start going at a steady rhythm, all the while the palm of his hand continually rubs at that button.

You’ve long since given into the depravity of this act, but you’re still grateful that Elvis has the judgment to try to muffle your wanton shrieks with his sweet kisses. So sweet that it stands in sharp contrast to the lewd things his hands are doing between your thighs. All too soon, just as you’re getting used to that stretched feeling does he pull his hands free and you let out a needy sob as you’re left feeling achingly empty.

He chuckles at your neediness, as he brings his hand up and you see for the first time the evidence of the long-dormant immodest side of yourself glistening on his fingers. Before you can even begin to feel the burn of shame, he sticks those fingers into his mouth and lets out a long-satisfied hum, and you find yourself burning in a different way.

“You’re so sweet darlin’,” he whispers against your lips and you’re helpless to do nothing but open your mouth to have a taste.

You think you know what to expect next, until he makes a show moving down your body until he’s crouched down between your legs and gathers all the excess wetness between your thighs with his tongue. Your confusion is apparently evident as he takes a moment to pause and look you in the eye as with that trademark devilish smirk on his lips as he dives straight to the source of your heat. 

None of your friends had ever described anything close to this, or if they did they failed to mention how wonderful it would feel. Your back arches almost entirely off the bed, as your thighs reflexively box in his head, and you’re moaning freely at the sensation of it. His tongue quickly replaces his thumb at the sensitive bundle of nerves, and with the fingers that were already going at a steady rhythm inside of you, you’re a goner. 

After you come down from that euphoric peak, you’ll apologize to him for all the embarrassing noises you made. He’ll quiet you with a kiss, and you shudder at the more potent taste of yourself. “Y/N, you’re one a the few people in those whole fucked up world who can’t hide how they feel. It’s why you’re gon’ be mine,” his dark rasp only adds to the bliss you’re feeling, as he gives you a soft kiss.

He pulls away from you once your breath has steadied somewhat. In spite of how tired you were, you still wanted to know more, now that you’ve come this far. 

You go a bit wide-eyed when you see him unbuckle his pants and you see in person for the first time what makes girls and boys so different. You have done a bit of exploring on your own, and you understood from what Old Mrs’ Sack’s birds and the bees talk, that boys have something like that, but you didn’t ever realize that it could be so big. Your mouth is dry as you speak, “How… how is that going to fit?” 

Even in the low lighting of the bedroom, you can still make out his dazzling smile before he gives you a soft kiss to your nose. “You don’t gotta worry ‘bout that sweetheart,” he says as he cups your chin. “This is the most natural thing in the world. You were made to take me like this darlin’.” You don’t fully understand why that gets a particularly wanton moan out of you, but you don’t fight it. “Just lay back and relax baby girl, and I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he promises, taking a nibble of your earlobe.

You follow his orders and lay amongst the pillows as his strong hands align your hips with his. There is a burning sensation below as you feel the head, and he gives you a moment to adjust, and you bite harder into your lip, until he takes his thumb and gently removes it from between your teeth to give you a sweet kiss.

“I wanna hear ya’ baby,” he says, his lips brushing against yours, as he starts to slowly push forward.

And forward.

And forward.

And forward.

Until you finally feel all of him, long and oddly heavy, fully sheathed within you. You fight back your tears, but his gentle kisses along your face and praises in your ear as to how good you’re being all make the experience far more bearable. He shifts ever so slightly within you, causing a particularly filthy moan from you. 

Elvis takes this as his signal to almost entirely remove himself, and your tiny whimpers are only quieted as he slams himself back into place. The suddenness of the act robbing you of a voice, and it would have scared you to death, were it not for his whispers asking if you trust him on this. 

“I do,” is all you’re able to manage, and that seems to set him off like a switch. The hunger for you is apparent in his eyes and as he picks up the pace and you’re freely keening and whining, he plants his mouth on yours as though he wants to consume you entirely.

How can he move his hips like this, is perhaps your last coherent thought of the night as he continually rocks back into you. You, in vain, try to keep up with his thrusts, but your amateurish movements are quickly outmatched with his as he moves his hands on to your waist to move you in tandem with his and you love every single second of it, especially when he’s able to hit a particular spot within you that you never knew existed. That coil in your belly straining further and further, until it finally snaps and you let out an unrestrained cry to the heavens themselves.

He’s not too far behind you as his thrusts begin to sputter, until he finally stills and you wrap your legs around his hips, enjoying the pleasantly warm feeling of his seed within you. 

You’re nothing more than a boneless heap after all was said and done, barely having enough strength to  open your eyes. Elvis is able to maneuver you under the silky sheets with him and the wonderfully cool fabric is able to dissipate the last remnants of burning heat within you, allowing you to settle in his arms. You shiver as you feel yourself leaking on to a complete stranger's sheets, but you’re so tired right now you figure that that can be a problem for tomorrow.

You’re brought back to the land of the living when you feel the warm rays of the sun on your back, your eyes aching and your nether regions pleasantly sore. You don’t immediately do anything about your current state, wanting to bask in this feeling for a little while, though eventually the soft ticking sound of the clock radio reminds you of why you embarked on this adventure in the first place.

You shoot out of bed to see that you have most definitely missed your graduation ceremony by this point. You hang your head, and will yourself not to cry at the almost karmic punishment, you’ve been dealt. But you can hardly call it one because this is a direct result of your own actions.

And it is as you’re internally berating yourself for your willfulness, do you realize that Elvis is nowhere to be found. And that is truly the cherry on top to this awful sundae, knowing you spent  a night with a charlatan in favor of getting what you want. 

You feel used and humiliated, and it is as if you're trying to prevent the tears from flowing, do you see the attached bathroom, and realize that you’re in the master bedroom. 

Oh dear lord, this is Mr. Presley’s room, you think while burying your face in your hands. You’re absolutely humiliated that you put yourself in this position and you worry as to how you’re going to get home. The solution before you is simple but it is far from an easy choice. It’s hardly a choice at all, considering that the alternative is sneaking off of the property and taking your chances walking home alone in nothing but a white silk robe you found.

And that’s how you find yourself aimlessly walking around a strangers home, and silently praying that they are charitable enough to take you home. Good humor or no, you doubt there is a world where Mr. Presley doesn’t look at daddy differently after this. 

Once you’re downstairs do you finally come across a closed door with some sign of life behind it. You’re so desperate you don’t even hesitate in opening it only to be met with at least a dozen pairs of eyes on you, all of which were surrounding your missing lover, sitting with his feet propped up on a desk. “Ahh Y/N yer here just in time, why dontcha come on in?” he half sings to you, patting his lap. You’re beyond confused by this point that you don’t even think twice about doing so, instead focusing on making sure that your robe stays closed. “Sonny, go get ‘em.” you hear from him, as he puts his feet down on to the floor and brings his hands outward to you, and with all of the eyes on you, you comply. 

He sits you on his lap, and you can hardly begin to comprehend what’s happening, before you hear a big commotion somewhere in the house, that only seems to be getting closer. You see the men begin to set down a tarp on the floor and you see a row of weapons all sitting casually before you on the desk before you. Panic begins to set in as you see Elvis for the first time in the light of day, and his deranged focus is solely on you. 

“Elvis what is going on here?” you question, tears in your eyes, his firm grip making escape impossible. 

“I’m gettin’ what I’m owed sweetheart,” he whispers, as the door  bursts open and you see two men throw a third to the tarped floor face first. You almost don’t recognize him at first, as you can’t comprehend why he would be here, but eventually there is no denying it. 

“Daddy?” you say forcibly pulling yourself off of him to try to get to him. Some of the men hold you back as you see Elvis saunter his way over to him before you can. 

Elvis says as he crouches down to where your daddy was forced to his knees, and forcefully pulls your daddy’s head back by his hair to face you directly. “You wanna tell her Johnny boy, or should I?” 

Your daddy sputters, eyes darting between you and ELvis once again, before he looks down and tries to say. “Gem, I-I… I don’t kno-”

“You lyin’ sack a shit!” Elvis explosively cuts him off producing a gun from his waist. “Tell the fuckin’ truth to your daughter,” he says pressing a gun to your daddy’s temple. Your daddy looks devastated at his words, his mouth opening and closing, apparently choking on his own words as he looks between you and Elvis. 

You’re frozen in place at that moment, too scared of the man you thought you knew, and too scared for the man you thought you knew. 

“Y/N, I-I…” he looks close to tears, something you’ve never seen on his face before. “I-I been workin’ for Elvis-”

An ominous click, cuts him off, and the man in question sneers “try again.”

Your daddy audibly gulped at this point. “I’ve been handlin’ the money for Mr. Presley here for almost ten years,” he says in a low whisper. 

That sort of answers some questions, but you can hardly figure out what this has to do with you. But hearing who exactly Mr. Presley, is and that you spent the night with him is incomprehensible.

“After,” he pauses to take a steadying breath. “After your Mama passed, I-I needed all the help I could get, and… and… I took more than my fair cut.” he says his eyes closed, avoiding looking at your face, as he takes a steadying breath. “Last year, when he found out what I was doin’, I tried ru-running with you.” 

“A liar, a thief, and a fuckin’ coward, is what you got for a daddy Y/N,” Elvis japes. “It’s a literal fuckin’ miracle you came out so perfect doll,” he says as he gently brushes your cheek with his knuckles. You would have recoiled, had it not been for the very present fear you had for this man and the gun still pointed at your daddy’s head.

“Whe-when found us he gave me one last chance to settle. He made me a deal there, that he would forgive me if I… if I…Promised him…” his lip is trembling by this point and he can’t even look at you.

“Daddy… What did you promise him?” You say in a small voice, having a sneaking suspicion and praying to god that you’re not proven right.

“Baby, I-I’ve done some bad things in my life, but I did it all for you,” he says looking down, the tears streaking down his face. “I-I promised him… you.”

You step as far away back as the desk allows you to, and your knees almost give in beneath you at what you just heard. Because there is absolutely no way that he had just said what he did. You can’t believe it, but the more you think about it the more things begin to make sense. WHy your freedom has been limited in the past year. Why your daddy made you focus especially on learning Spanish this past year. WHy you weren’t allowed with any boys. 

“One year, Johnny,” Elvis says, interrupting your spiral. He is holding up a single finger in front of your daddy’s face as he continues, “That’s how long I gave you to get her used to the idea. And you fucked it up, for not just yourself but for her. And I gotta find out last minute, that you been wasting it planning another fucking trip?” 

“I couldn’t go through with it,” daddy pleads. “Please I-I’ll get the money, I’ll do whatever I gotta, just please let her go!” 

“Now how the hell am I supposed to trust that? You already backed out of a deal once, how the hell am I supposed to trust this one?” Elvis asks him as he walks away from him and towards you, while daddy has the decency to look ashamed. “Now lucky for you, your daughter ain’t nothin’ like you, Johnny,” his tone is almost reverent as he speaks of you. “And I don’t believe she’s in the business of makin’ promises she won’t keep, right sweetheart?” 

“Elvis… I don’t understand,” you say with tears in your eyes. 

“It’s real simple baby,” Elvis says. “I’m given’ you a choice. Walk away and your daddy pays back what he stole the hard way. Or,” he says cupping your cheek far too tenderly for what he’s about to offer. “Be my wife and your daddy can go free.”

It’s hardly a decision for you at that point. Because for as mad as you are at him, that’s your daddy and you could never wish him harm. But there is a burning question, in the back of your mind, and you know whatever the answer is, it’s going to hurt. And yet the newly discovered masochist within you demands an answer.

“How much?”

“What?”

“I need a number,” you declare, “How much was my life worth daddy?”

He looks heartbroken as to how you view the situation, but really how else can you look at it? Your daddy took money from a dangerous man, and now, said man is looking for what he paid for. Nevertheless he lowers his head and he mumbles out a number. 

The number he gives is large, but it’s still not nearly enough for what you thought your life was worth in your mind. Your father hangs his head in shame, evidently knowing you well enough to know how much he’s hurt you.

You can hardly call what you had a proper wedding, Elvis is cruel enough to make you go through the motions of it in the still somewhat setup backyard. You’re put into a beautiful white dress that fits like a glove, and handed a gorgeous bouquet, and you’re only a little disturbed by the fact that the dress is perfectly tailored or that these are your favorite flowers. Though these quickly leave your mind as you see your father at the bottom of the steps. 

A part of you wanted to refuse your father and walk yourself down the aisle. That petty part, wanting to further twist the knife of his future exile by denying him this near sacred final right of a father to be able to do so. But the better part of you prevails as for as much as you want to be seen as a fully grown woman, you still very much feel like a little girl who needs to hold her daddy’s hand in a scary situation. And this is undoubtedly the scariest thing you’ve ever done.

Which only further burns as you’re reminded that you’re in this situation because of him. 

Your father walks you down the makeshift aisle of the backyard with a busted lip and a vacant look in his eyes to match your own. For as mad as you are at him, you don’t want him to be hurt or worse for what he did. That doesn’t mean you want to have to look at him anymore. 

Your daddy was an accountant, but as you signed your name on that marriage license, you realize you aren’t an accountant's daughter any more. And just like that you’re a proper married woman. 

After the ceremony, there is only a small reception to follow, with those closest to your new husband having been invited. Evidently your father didn’t make the cut, which may be for the best as you doubt you will even be able to look at him right now as Elvis sits you on his lap while all of his men dole out congratulations to the two of you. 

Later on when you’re alone with him you will beg Elvis for a reason that isn’t just some power trip over your father or that he truly believes that you were something worth the amount that your father took from him. You’re willing to believe anything at this point.

“Oh baby, you don’t gotta worry one bit,” he reassures you while kissing away your tears. “If this was about money, I woulda taken what he offered way back when. But no I’ve loved ya’ since Texas.”

“But why?” you cry. 

“Because of that satnin,” he says. “You’re a rare breed these days: honest. I knew it since the moment I saw ya’ that you were what I needed in my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you can’t lie for shit. Especially not to me.” he says, planting kisses along your newly exposed skin. “I know I chose the perfect wife for me.”

Would you have chosen him if given the choice? You don’t know. You may never know, but if growing up a not-accountant’s daughter has taught you anything is how to take what you’re given and be grateful for it. 

Ending note: I was 9k in when I realized I pulled a “I sold you to one direction,” Welp that’s the way it goes sometimes. 

Taglist

@venus-haze @djsjs13949 @ilovehobi101 @butlerslut @richardslady121 @giabelia @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051 @myradiaz  @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale @j-v-9-2  @eliseinmemphis @dkayfixates  @immi547 @thatbanditqueen   @marriedtoeddie @cuteejeno @itlover8000​ @isthlsfate​ @mgparker​ @thatbanditqueen​

[celaenaeiln]

C: Hi there! Even if I've been reading dick Grayson(and in turn batfamily) fics for a few weeks now, I've never actually watched/read DC stuff because even if I liked superheroes, I'm not invested enough to read the actual comics. The most I watched was the Teen Titans 2003 cartoon(which I love). I was brought into interest cause I was brought in through crossovers of other fandoms (which may be hated by some/many😅)

To give myself context, I tried to read around for Robin, and imagine my surprise there's more than one? Which, okay mantle thing I guess. But in the end, Dick Grayson caught my attention(not rlly for his looks and design, but more of his heroism and entire personality and affect in the DC world). Which leads to looking at other tumblrs and I love reading yours and when you answer the asks cause it's so much easier for me to understand the kind of person Dick is and how he interacts with the world.

Sorry for this long context, but I just want maybe your opinion, what if your opinion in the combination of how Dick Grayson should be written for him to Thrive

- Should he stay in Gotham, being in with the batfamily more? Soloing in Bludhaven? Staying with the titans? Or others?

- what about his romantic relationships? Who should be is one true one(based on canon gfs), or maybe stay single? (Just gonna be biased, but I've only knew about dickbabs and dickkory (but I heard he has other girlfriends and I've remember reading he was almost married...a few times??) but dickkory had always been for me)

- What about mentally wise? (Of course, I do think Dick needs a long vacation because of all the trauma that he has to go through), but even if I like the idea of Dick being admired for his looks because he deserves it, but I do rmbr posts that he is uncomfy with this(sexualisation, Def only staying true to the person he loves (then there's the whole...Tarantula and more thing)

Tbf, I do think is a little bit of all is what makes Dick, Dick. Haha

Sorry for the long ask, feel free to not answer because i just needed to get this out😅. I know it's actually bad I'm reading fics without canon knowledge for personality, but your posts makes me understand him more that I understand what's real and what's fanon in fics (that makes me..ugh.. but I read anyway for plot cause i don't know better)

But thank you anyway for reading this and I love your content!

(last one for this ask I swear: I've been seeing stuff where Robin name is actually Dick's mom calling Dick that. Then it's passed down as a mantle starting from Jason without Dick consenting. I tried to read at wiki, maybe I missed out but I can't find anything. Is it true? Does the other bats (except Bruce and Alfred?) know the actual meaning? Because as much as I love Dami, the whole bloodson, birthright to take the mantle of Robin beside Batman give me ugh feelings if it's true) :C

First of all, thank you so much!! I'm so happy to hear you like my stuff <333!!

I think it's fine that you started in the fandom since I sort of started out that way too lol. I had only watched Teen Titans Animated show and Young Justice before I got into fanfics and my first comic I ever read was actually Teen Titans (2011) which was Tim's run. It's been a journey.

Dick's personality was also what captivated me so here I am!

"Should he stay in Gotham, being in with the batfamily more? Soloing in Bludhaven? Staying with the titans? Or others?"

That's a really good question and a complex one. Ironically, for being such a people person, Dick seems to be doing best when he's by himself. When he's soloing, he has a sense of freedom and independence that he's been craving for a long time. The whole reason he left Bruce was because he felt like Bruce was suddenly treating him like a kid, like someone to look after, when he had been treating Dick like a partner the whole time. When Dick feels like his independence is being stepped on, it unsettles him. This is another reason why the Tom Taylor run and Dick's relationship pisses me off but that's for another time. As much as he likes Gotham, he loves Bludhaven. He thinks it's a dirty, crime-filled city, sure, but he loves it there.

He's a little crazy like that.

He doesn't have the same attachment to Gotham that Bruce does. Instead he feels that for Bludhaven.

The only reason I'm saying Dick is better off staying alone than with the Titans is because of his leadership mentality. There's a comic that I forgot the name of but Dick teams up with members of the Justice League and they trapeze through a jungle under the orders of this corrupt military general. He teams up with Arthur and automatically starts commanding people to which Aquaman tells him off, saying this isn't the Titans. Dick is genuinely sorry and backs off. For a minute. But immediately goes right back into command mode but Arthur lets it go, realizing that Dick's not conscious of it and that his behaviour is automatic. "Too many leaders" he calls the situation in his head. For Dick, the Titans have become a responsibility now. He loves them like crazy but they look up at him automatically for directions and order and he's gotten so used to leading them that it's his go to mode.

He just likes doing stuff without someone hovering over his shoulder or having to take care of others.

"what about his romantic relationships? Who should be is one true one(based on canon gfs), or maybe stay single? (Just gonna be biased, but I've only knew about dickbabs and dickkory (but I heard he has other girlfriends and I've remember reading he was almost married…a few times??) but dickkory had always been for me)"

Yeah, I've actually loved almost all of his romantic relationships. I hate Dickbabs but every other one has been fantastic. Kori was great for him.

Action Comics (1938) Issue #618

Dick says it again here. He used to envy Roy's freedom. He's also said in another comic that he fell in love with Kori for her freedom.

Secret Origins (1986) Issue #13

You're right, he has gotten almost married a few times

The first time was with Kori

The New Titans (1988) Issue #100

But then

The New Titans (1988) Issue #100

their pastor gets vaporised and body-controlled Raven feeds the soul of one of Trigon's children into Kori and she goes crazy but she recovers but it's a whole ordeal. In the end they don't get a chance to complete their marriage. They were spectacular together though. The only reason their wedding didn't go through is because the Batfam writers wanted Dick back so they took him from the Titans' writers and they needed a big dramatic scene to cut him off from the Titans. Another reason why Barbara was deaged and created as a love interest- to gatekeep him in the family.

He's also gotten married to Barbara before the retcon though.

Batman Family Issue #11

But here they were forced to by Maze and they went along with it and tricked him. At the end though, they just grab a bite to eat.

Ngl I actually would've supported this marriage. I really love this Barbara. Yes the age difference is a bit much but whatever, I still like them.

Dick and Barbara have gotten married in an alternate timeline.

Convergence: Nightwing/Oracle Issue #2

yeah, definitely didn't like this one.

Dick's also gotten fake married to a woman because Batman and Dick thought she was killing her husbands after marrying them so Dick married her to see if it was true.

Nightwing (1996) Annual #1

I liked her. She wasn't the killer and Dick did a fantastic job raising her son but even though she loved him, he didn't love her and they divorced amicably. I wish I could see more of her and her son though.

To be completely honest, my favorites for Dick are Kori and Bea.

Bea was a fantastic partner. She was understanding, loving, caring, and responsible. She was there when he was Ric Grayson and just loved him for who he was.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #53

If Kori's truly out of the picture, then Dick really should've settled down with her.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #57

She and Kori, they don't tell Dick what to do or who to be. They let him be free which is why I loved them an extraordinary amount. I'm a sucker for soft moments and Bea and Dick are couple goals.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #62

They give him the freedom he craves.

"What about mentally wise? (Of course, I do think Dick needs a long vacation because of all the trauma that he has to go through), but even if I like the idea of Dick being admired for his looks because he deserves it, but I do rmbr posts that he is uncomfy with this(sexualisation, Def only staying true to the person he loves (then there's the whole...Tarantula and more thing)"

I think Dick does need a break. His life has been a series of unfortunate events but despite all that, I think he loves it that way. Dick loves the thrill of adventure. It's the heart of who he is and why he became robin. The excitement he gets when fighting or doing crazy stunts - he loves all of it and that is his coping mechanism. I guess in order for him to thrive, Bruce needs to stop dumping all his trauma and stop expecting him to be there for him at all times of the day. Dick keeps getting dragged back to Gotham to take care of Bruce and his problems and he would go in a heartbeat but he's much happier wacking his own goons in Bludhaven. But since Bruce is so codependent on Dick, this pattern's not gonna stop anytime soon.

Truth be told I also like Dick being admired for his looks. I don't like him being called out by it though. First of all why would you comment "hot booty" to someone? It's degrading and humiliating even if you think it's a compliment. Some things are better left untold. But regardless of what people think, Dick will always be pretty and everyone in the DC universe knows this. Heroes, civilians, villains - they're all attracted to him on some level because he's so beautiful. And honestly? I'm all for it! Because that boy is the prettiest human in existence and he deserves that recognition. Just not vocally or physically.

The best thing is that Dick's beauty has no bearing on his mentality toward people. This man will choose one person and stick with them forever. He values intimacy and trust and love in his relationships which is why he's so attached to each one. This plays a massive role in his relationship with Kori. He would never cheat. Actually in all the future comics, after his spouse passes away or leaves, he never remarries. The only one exception was Batman Beyond (2016). The only one and he remarries Barbara after his wife passes away. Aside from that he remains a single parent. That's how dedicated he is.

"I've been seeing stuff where Robin name is actually Dick's mom calling Dick that. Then it's passed down as a mantle starting from Jason without Dick consenting. I tried to read at wiki, maybe I missed out but I can't find anything. Is it true? Does the other bats (except Bruce and Alfred?) know the actual meaning? Because as much as I love Dami, the whole bloodson, birthright to take the mantle of Robin beside Batman give me ugh feelings if it's true)"

Yup Dick's mother called Dick Robin.

Nightwing (2011) Issue #0

Robin (1993) Annual #4

Here's a couple but there are more instances of his mom calling him Robin.

Dick had no idea Bruce passed on the Robin costume. He finds out through the newspaper because Bruce is pissed at Dick. Like he's so mad that when he told Dick to leave, Dick actually left.

You know how there's a saying about not being able to take back words of anger? Bruce is feeling that heavily. He already had suspicions that Dick wanted to leave but before Dick could tell him, he fired him so he wouldn't have to hear those words. But Bruce is super mad that Dick left anyway. So what does he do? He makes the first boy he sees Robin.

And Jason finds out Dick was Robin when he confronts Bruce why Nightwing knows Bruce's identity. And that gets Bruce more mad because he's now feeling guilty which is when Dick comes to confront Bruce.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But instead of meeting anger for anger, Dick expresses his hurt. About how they were partners and then talks about his life after leaving Bruce.

And Bruce loves Dick. His best friend, son, brother, and partner for nearly 11 years. They raised each other and despite his anger, he smiles in pride and love.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Look at his smile!! He's so proud of his son.

And that's when Dick stops pulling his punches.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Bruce looks so wrecked. The guilt and sorrow is tantamount to his pain.

Then Dick asks Bruce why he choose someone new.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

So Bruce tells him. But Dick and Bruce's relationship go way deeper than just friends or family. They know each other. They revolve around each other so Dick calls him out.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And out comes the truth

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But Dick has always been the bigger man and instead of letting Jason become some sort of spite move, he turns Robin into a legacy.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He passes it down like it was meant to be passed down. Because let's be honest here. The Robin name and costume is Dick's. If he wanted to, he could've taken it back, Bruce be damned. And that was one of Jason's fears.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But despite Bruce's words to Jason

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He's not sure himself.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But it's only with Dick's approval that he becomes Robin which is what Bruce is thanking at the end.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And this has been a sort of tradition.

Dick approved of Jason being Robin, he endorsed Tim, and he made Damian Robin. The only exception being Stephanie. This is why Dick feels a heavy sense of responsibility over the robin predicament. He created the tradition. He approved, supported, and mentored every robin that walked in his colors and name. That's why he feels the burden of it.

I don't think any of the other robins know the meaning behind the name. Maybe they do. But ironically, the one who wasn't robin is the one who knows the meaning of it.

Duke.

[phoenixtakaramono]

OPERATION BABYLON - PART VI

aka the butchlander sugar baby AU.

We have the first reader interactive poll for this threadfic! I recommend reading the update to the end (with a detailed breakdown of each choice) before making your decision.

Tumblr Navigation (note I have not shared the prologue here with its premise setup; I’ve only started sharing this twitter threadfic on tumblr starting from the 2nd 🔞 scene): I | II | III | IV | V | VI

Update Schedule: weekly/ biweekly

(You can read the rest of the threadfic update here!)

Keep in mind, all of my AU Butchlander threadfics on Twitter are the unpolished first draft versions of what’ll eventually be polished up into long fics on AO3 under the Shock and Awe series. So you may regard this threadfic as an experimental first prototype and exclusive preview whose contents may or may not be changed in the future final draft version. We’re just loosely playing around with ideas and concepts for now!

If you don’t have a Twitter account, screenshots are provided below the line break so you can read this update on Tumblr as well:

A more-in-depth breakdown of the choices:

A) Tell the truth. To avoid suspicion, Billy lays low and comes up with an excuse that he's booked for the whole day plays hard to get. It'll lead to Homelander running into "William out on a date" with another Supe—and a jealous Homelander running interference lol and sabotaging it, potentially leading to a "private tour" at The Seven meeting room and some 🔞 inappropriate office s*x ;) the setting depends if I decide to have it as a Vought HQ gala event or a Capes for Christ baptism

The payoff: a lead into the investigation The con: Billy's relationship with one of his long-time regulars is irreversibly damaged (it'll come bite him in the arse much later in the threadfic)

B) Homelander wants to be his sugar daddy. So Billy wants to test that and see if he can get our caped crusader to unknowingly fund his little CIA operation by exaggerating his rent and monthly overhead costs to tug at the hero's supposed generous philanthropist heartstrings. It'll lead to the sugar baby/daddy relationship being developed more aka a lil à la Pretty Woman-styled "shopping spree" with Homelander raining gifts on Billy's head say bye bye to Billy's CIA-assigned base, potentially leading to a 🔞 scene for "William to show him his gratitude"

The payoff: a bigger base and money for a more in-depth investigation The con: Homelander will lowkey stalk monitor him, so it'll be harder to keep his covert activities a secret from him or sneak out

C) The cute "Waiting for you :)" type of option. Billy doubles down on the act and reforms himself into Homelander's dream lover. It's tooth-rotting romantic fluff and flirty back-and-forth banter between them, but keep in mind what'll happen when Homelander inevitably realizes the "William who's literally almost perfect in every way and is too good to be true" isn't actually real much much much later as a direct consequence of this early choice.

The payoff: a happy Homelander (speedrun gaining his trust and affection by taking our bbg on dates <3) The con: the future fallout (and reconciliation) will be much more dramatic

Choose your poison! You can also vote on Twitter (link to the poll). I will add the final results together, and we’ll see which story route comes out on top.

A/N: A bit of Billy’s POV as we begin to pull back the curtains. How deep does this rabbithole of deception go? Far. Very far. Did y'all see the twist with Popclaw? Didn't expect that, did ya?

I am, by the way, open to ⚠️🔞 reader suggestions~. I make no promises that I’ll write it, but this threadfic is meant as a shameless excuse to write 🔞 butchlander spice, haha, and provide y’all some content during our butchlander drought. I have one reader suggestion thus far, and it involves candle wax. 🕯️

[luckyartdrawer]

Small WIP Moon fic drop

Sooo over the summer I started a new dca fic WIP (ik I shoulddd write for my other stuff but shhhhhhh-) and I'm doing a thing where I'm aiming to start posting this one until I'm either completely done or very close to done with the fic. (Because if I post right away my ass will not be able to keep them coming regularly 😔)

Rn I'm about 6 chapters of my expected 15 in! I wanna make this a pretty short story that'll still pack a bit of a punch. I got a message I wanna send >:)

I'm really feeling good about this fic, but since I'm holding back from posting the full chapters, I'll satiate my need to share by giving small tid bits from the beginning chapters. :)

TLDR:

This story is Moon centric and mostly takes place in his pov! (Sorry Sun lovers, I swear I adore that boyo too-) It's also an x reader and it'll be SFW - Moon is just gonna be a really clingy attention deprived goober. o3o

(Edit from the future: Okay so there's a lot of pinning going on so while it could probably still be interpreted as platonic/queer platonic, I'm not gonna label it as such anymore and chance making people uncomfortable)

If you're curious, I have 2 snippets and the story summary below the cut! Ty for reading through my yapping <3

Summary:

Moon was never one to outwardly complain about his place in life.

He had simply lost the lottery. Only out for moments at a time, too afraid to do anything wrong. He's active for so little as is, why risk losing even more time?

Moon prefers nap time. The one place where he can interact with the world calmly for a whole hour. To be a comfort rather than a tool. When everyone sleeps, he can relax, knowing he's done everything right.

Time for himself…

Now that's his favorite. But even then he cannot do much. Only in his wildest nonexistent dreams could he be truly free.

But one day, somehow… Moon actually dreamed.

Who knew how addictive a sweet dream could be?

vvvv Main Ch 1 scene vvvv

vvvv Scene depicting details about the Reader vvvv

Thank y'all for reading! This whole fic is based more on a world I created on my own, but you can definitely see influences from other things within.

The fic is so far planned to be called "Everything You've Ever Dreamed" - and if that rings a bell to you then it's likely exactly what you're thinking :)))

I don't mind if any of y'all wanna give your opinions on it. Tbh I'm not looking for criticism since this is just going to be a short story with unrealistic aspects. Plus, I just want to write something like this for my own satisfaction! Indulgence!!!

These snippets may or may not change once it comes time to finally start uploading the fic to ao3. This is still a WIP after all, I just love it so much to share it :3

(calling this fic Dreamlike and EYED for short/tags)

[aldritch-ao3]

Hello!! We’ve really been enjoying your fic and wanted to ask a few things, and ramble :p

1. Were there any works (be it original fiction or fanfics) that inspired Playback? Because the SI ‘genre’ (don’t have a better word for it haha) is very broad and well tread and we find your exploration of it very interesting.

2. We were actually somewhat wary of the idea of Freeze Frame for half a second but the way you’re able to utilize it in the narrative is very interesting and well thought out, it balances out well with the characters. But to get to the point: How did the balance out the technique with the story so well?

Uhh… now other stuff :3

SI-ya is a very enjoyable character! Don’t know why but we read him as a very flat affected midwestern guy, with the type of accent you’d hear from Michigan/Indiana.

Thank you for sharing your story and stay safe during Milton!

aaah what a sweet ask ! i'll endeavour to answer it all as best as i can, i love answering these sorts of meta questions they're a real treat for me !!! also its late and im up for my unstoppable editing a chapter at 3am grind so this may not be super coherent and its way too long sorryyyy

1. in regards to other fics - i'm admittedly more a 'time travel fix-it' guy than a SI-genre guy! they so rarely ever click with me in a way i enjoy, and im always sad when the SI isnt like, a fleshed out OC with their own history and whatnot. the only one i can think of that i really enjoyed was cleaning crew ! but i found the JJK fandom played around with them in really fun ways to me (even if i haven't had a ton of time to read a lot).

the tag on playback that denotes it came to me in a dream isn't a joke - i stayed up till like 5am reading all of a gentler world in one sitting, and had the most vibrant dream ive had in months, which the base plot of later became playback.

said dream will one day be written out when it isn't a major spoiler. lmao.

but @ the oc-focus bit, it may be more apt to say i draw off of other time-travel media in how the narrative interacts with the character - a study of resonance and a shot in the dark are some different-fandom favourites of mine that probably influenced me in some way shape or form, and pokemon mystery dungeon: explorers of sky shaped my brain in a way i will never recover from.

2. when it comes to balance, a part of it is very centered in like ... approach, for me. SIya is by nature a thoughtful character who approaches things methodically, and while i started with a very faint idea for freeze frame i let the drawbacks of it come to me as i fleshed him out - drawbacks that would be actual drawbacks catered to the character, and ones he may eventually be able to use to his own benefit. he's the type of smart guy who could probably find some use in its increased resistance and lack of air circulation, but he's also the type of guy to be constantly exhausted because he pushes himself to his limits constantly. he feels responsible for the whole world, and i wanted freeze frame as an ability to both enable and worsen that feeling. the character himself is also a counter to it - he's not the sort to use it wildly or irresponsibly in the way others might. its balanced with the story because it IS the story! SIya the oc and SIya the character themes are inseparable from freeze frame and the story is built for that.

3. midwestern SIya is so funny. everyone ive talked to pictures him with an entirely different accent but all agree he sounds super flat and like. average. its hysterical to me. real bland energy that transcends language. average generic guy voice

i'm really glad people enjoy it so much! i really wasnt at all expecting this much feedback and it's super motivating. it's been nice to have something to focus on aside from the upcoming storm ;w; with any luck, everything will be fine and i'll come back swinging with like 8 new chapters

[otaku553]

How goes the fma x albedo fic? I hope that doesn't sound pushy, I'm genuinely curious. And in that vein, do you have any little drabbles you may have written or want to write? Especially with your recent kny ocs/yourself and your siblings. That'd be super fun to read about! Your art AND your writing is so freaking good, the moment I see you've posted something new on your blog I'm clicking it so fast. Same with your ao3 account ❤️

Thank you for the kind words!!! Currently not working on any fics, since I just came out of 10 weeks of summer research where my days began at 8 am and ended at 9 pm for probably less than minimum wage hahaha (doing research is a Bit Sad but I get a whole month to relax before classes start again so thank goodness for that)

I do however!!! Have a lot of plans!!! If you’re interested you can read more below!

Plans include but are not limited to:

Finally working on Homuncular Nature again!! I definitely do have a lot of plans and cool scenes playing out in my head for the next chapter, it’ll just come down to when I actually put pen to paper (or stylus to iPad) to actually organize and write them all. The road block I think is that I have seen neither Albedo nor fmab very recently and all my concrete ideas are for around the 30 episode mark for fmab, the turning point with the first actual confrontation against father and the subsequent Briggs arc.

Rewriting Ten Thousand Maple Leaves! A lot of people have been very kind but I think I missed the mark with my first chapter to be honest. My writing has gotten a lot wordier and less succinct, which feels like I’m filling a chapter more with fluff and unnecessary description than actual content. I think I also dislike how I characterized Sanemi and how quickly Kazuha was willing to agree with things. Writing both of them is kind of a difficult challenge tbh! I think in rewriting it I want to give back to Kazuha more of his vagrant role in the games, where he is avoiding the law for reasons somewhat out of his control.

Ebisu siblings content! I think it might be fun to try having them interact with more of the canon characters in kny but I also think there’s some value in a complete sort of outsider point of view when inserting characters into a piece of media. I feel like whenever I see self inserts I see a lot of ocs making themselves indispensable and making meaningful relationships with existing characters that way and that’s totally valid! That’s a lot of what I do for crossovers as well. I think when it comes to my own ocs though, I want them to feel grounded in some form and the reality of it is that none of the characters I make based on myself or real people are that impressive or remarkable. But I also think there’s a lot of value in showing smaller scale things outside of the main interactions and plot to show that even though we aren’t remarkable, we still have our own meaningful connections and ideologies and stories :) in the end the Ebisu siblings are a lot more visual though so I may just continue making doodles and art without writing anything haha

Kirby & Meta Knight ageswap AU: I was mostly doing this on my ask-gikabi sideblog in short form comics, but I lost sight of what I wanted to do after making the discord and starting to interact with some of the people who followed it. I think a lot of people are inspired and have their own very cool ideas that I wanted to take into account but then eventually it was no longer my story or the story I wanted to tell, which is why I’m thinking of restarting it as a fic. This one is still in very rough idea stage though, I have honestly no clue how I’m even going to begin organizing it

Yanfei ace attorney crossover: this one’s just pure crack lmao I would definitely write it as crack taken seriously but I think this is fun to explore just for small ideas that pop up every now and then, i.e. yanfei is semi-immortal because she’s half adeptus so it would be Really Funny to me if she showed up in dgs era, got her attorney’s license, went into hiding after it became obvious that she wasn’t aging, and then re-emerged after rebranding herself as her own daughter or granddaughter. That, and I have a lot of fun imagining someone as pragmatic as yanfei trying to get through the sheer chaos of aa despite being otherworldly

Continuing winter weather advisory: I got to a really good point in that fic and was rereading it today like,,, damn I wrote that? And it would be fun to see where I planned on going with it so I do want to also try working on that a bit if I can

Kazuha & Kunikuzushi role swap au: this is something I posted about a Long While ago but it’s an idea I continue to be fascinated with :) I especially enjoy how these two characters could have had completely different roles and personalities depending on how their pasts happened (with wanderer being so nice and turning so bitter and kazuha growing up so spoiled (for lack of a better word) and turning out so weary and yet kind

Link click and mha crossover: this one is honestly just a very recent idea but I think it would be fun to make a drabble on how lightime photo studio would be able to continue operating even in another world and the trouble they might get into for illegal quirk usage and what using cheng xiaoshi’s powers in a world where being able to tell the future is canonically possible would entail

I have!! So many ideas!! And not enough time or motivation to actually write any of them most of the time :’)

But I’m very glad to hear that you enjoy them and look forward to my posts!! :D I really hope I can work on some of these over the last month of summer vacation that I have :)

[ancha-aus]

..hi :) Are these "Ask me soemething" privat or will it be on your account for everyone to see? I'm a little bit shy and doing this for the first time hehe..

Because I really wanna know how do you plan your Storys :3

is the Idea just born of one drapple..

Is it just one moment in this story you really wanna write and everything else comes on the way till there

or just based from a ship you wanna read

or you wanted to know what happend when you put all the charakters in a world you create..

(or you wanted to create a world where Nim is a great parent to drream and night..-ah this is ofcourse not a hint that i plan to write to and need a little bit of guidence for the very beginnig. I have many ideas but unsure ..^^")

..äh that was all.. for now ..NO!

Did you make a checklist for everthing to happend (becuase that did i now) or create the world first or decided who will play a role?

Is this not the same like above?... ah.. Better go now.

Thank you^^

They are open and will be visible for everyone as... euh... you can see. hihi.

At least the way i answer them now. but if you ever feel nervous about being seen and stuff you can press a button that is pretty much ask as anon. (also if you want this deleted after you read the answers just let me know okay? I cna always just make a new post with just the answers and without your name or anything :) )

As for your answers? A bit of everything.

For me personally it depends very heavily on what story i make. Ancients and Champions started purely because i wanted to see more fics with SansXNightmareXError. Turns out I tend to write slowburns and I ended up needing a plot of somekind. I picked the stars as antagonists because it fit and it was easy to go from there. Eventually it grew as i got more ideas for characters and lore bits came to me with other ideas.

Remember, that story? I wrote for it for over a year before i even started uploading it. It was my little project that i just kept playing with and changing things with. It may seem like i started with a goal but i didn't. It was a process of "oh this would be fun." or "ooooh I had a great idea for a scene!" how i went from plotpoint to plotpoint? I just kinda... let the characters interact. The more you write a character the better you get to know their like 'voice' and thoughts. It becomes easier.

And well... even a bad story can work as long as you have good characters :) It is why we love fanfiction to begin with. we love the characters.

As for how I go about world building? I build what i need. I know, sounds strange coming from me with my lore and everything. But in the end... the characters only know so much. I create what they would realistically know. Why would i figure out the whole line of government of a neightbouring country? When my characters would never use it or mention it? As for how i do world building. I just do what makes sense to me. I spend some time thinking about it and use that.

That is another thing that may surprise you. I spend a lot of time just thinking and daydreaming about my stories. even more time than i actually spend writing it. This does have as result in know my things rather well. (though i still have a cheat sheet for my BIG fic. just with a few years and numbers in case i forget)

the other way around. Real Age Au. That is just a drabble series. it means i get an idea and just kinda. write. I don't worry about the over arching plot too much. I write a scene i want to write and call it a day.

The main point of all of my writing? I am playing. and I treat it as playing. I am playing with the characters and see how they react and how that progresses. I start a scene to play it out. I make a world and see how the characters react/change.

It is all about having fun and playing. That is why i can keep up with all the stories i have and ideas i have. because i still see it as playing :)

hihi. as for your little last point? :3 Well. You already have the most important part. You have the fact you want Nim to be a great mother to Dream and Nightmare. It means you have three interesting characters with personalities. and you have the main bond between them. a parent who loves her two sons and, as a great mother, would protect them.

That is your main point at the moment. that is your starting building block. That dynamic. and that can give you nim's main goal, being a good parent for her sons.

From there? You jsut start throwing stuff at the idea and see what happens. You have the villagers who are always a great antagonist, espeically if you want to write baby dream and baby nightmare and protective single mother nim.

You have the bigger universe if you want to use adult dream and nightmare.

It all depends on what idea you want to play with. and it is perfectly okay to only want to write for yourself. Hell knows I wrote Ancients and champions for myself and at first dind't even have the plan to post it.

I have finished two more stories which i do plan on posting but i am also writing another one i may never post.

RealAgeAU as a whole is just drabbles. my playing with prompts and ideas.

hihihi sorry. this got long so i will quickly answer the last part.

Did i write a checklist? Nah. at most i wrote tiny bullet points with random ideas.

I cna give you one tip though! to make it easy to keep a going an have an aim. If you want a longer story with multiple arcs and stuff. never finish a storyline before starting a new one.

example: The goal of the group is to find a gem. setting: in the cave of the gem they meet a mysterious stranger that speaks in riddles before disappearing. next: they find the gem.

What now? They foudn the gem? ... well... you set up a new start. a new mystery to explore.

That is how i made my story keep flowing. I tried to introduce or hint at new important characters or aims before i finished up the arc i was writing on.

This may be a bit hard to get down or come easy :) Matter of practising and feeling out what feels right to you :)

I will shut up now but if you have anymore questions i will try to help!

[prince-liest]

This may be an odd question, but I believe you mentioned you got into writing because of rp(or at least into fanfiction?) And I was wondering how you transitioned into writing solo? Most of my writing is/was with a partner, but I've been trying to write on my own, and I've found it incredibly difficult. I'm told that what I write is still good regardless, but I've a hard time both finding enthusiasm for it without a partner to bounce off of or finishing whatever I'm working on.

This might just be a me thing and more to do with being self-critical, but if you have any advice, I'd really appreciate it. I just want to figure out how to enjoy writing again without jumping through weird hoops for motivation.

(You may have already been comfortable writing even before rp and if that's the case, feel free to disregard this question.)

I'd tried to write a bit of fanfic before my RP days with limited success motivating myself, so it really was very much RP that got me the skills and ability to be able to write full-form fics!

But more than mechanical skill, mostly I think the issue you face is very similar to what I struggled with for a while when swapping to writing fanfic, which is that a lot of the reason RP is so easy and rewarding is because it's such a profoundly social activity. You write a few paragraphs and then you get social feedback immediately from your RP partner in the form of chatting about it and/or the RP response you get! With fanfiction, you have to write a whole damn piece or chapter, post it, and then hope that you get comments if you want engagement - and then those comments are inevitably going to be a little bit less personal if, like me, you RP OCs that you put a lot of yourself into rather than pre-existing characters!

The problem with doing things for the sake of extrinsic motivation is that it kills your intrinsic motivation to do those things. This isn't a moral flaw, it's a documented psychological effect! Nowadays I write primarily because I want to see the things I put into the world, but that's fucking easy for me to say when I also have a large reader base and really enthusiastic commentors, isn't it? And it took me a hot minute to figure out how to transition to motivating myself that way rather than because I wanted interaction.

My suggestion is, honestly, to find folks that hype you up! I kinda crested that barrier by getting possessed by writing demons and pounding out like 60k words of insane Hawks-centric character study in one month during the 2020 quarantine, and I was lucky enough that people really liked it and immediately flooded my notifications with the kind of really lovely, long-form comments that my writing style encourages, which isn't really a typical experience. Those folks that hype you up, it is LOVELY if they are your friends, but sometimes what you really need to do is find the small social circle of freaks that are really into whatever niche thing it is that you are writing, and infiltrate their Discord. Ship-specific groups are really good for this! (Especially for rarepairs.)

But a lot of it is really going to be finding the balance of finding supportive people who will feed into your excitement, and also finding that part of yourself that finds the process of writing to be fun. Social activity is still 100% just a necessary part of the human experience, and I myself post snippets of my writing online and on Discord all the time for the little dopamine hit of "Yay! We're enjoying this together!" but it's become something I do because I want to share the joy I already get from writing, not because I'm writing to share it!

Which also means that you should write things that you enjoy writing. ;) Write things you are actually excited about - not just things you want to read, but things you think would be fun to write, and if there are boring parts that you're getting stuck on? Fucking skip them! I am not kidding! You think anybody thought it was a loss that I literally never even mentioned how radiostatic got together for the first time in 666? If they did, nobody's mentioned it, because it wasn't necessary to the story I actually wanted to tell. Literally so goddamn many of my fics start with cold opens because I don't like to bother with exposition until things have already gotten rolling. Fanfiction especially is GREAT for this because people are already familiar with the world you're writing in!

You are writing to entertain yourself! If it's not entertaining, don't fucking write it! Or figure out what about it is boring you, and then write it differently. This will have the splendid side effect of teaching you how to write transitions and also making a fic that is more fun to read. >:)

Anyway, this has gotten quite long, so: I'm sorry that I wasn't able to offer a great deal of advice, because I relate deeply to what you're experiencing but I basically got to speedrun the transition phase. I hope that it was at least a little bit helpful!

[cannibalismyuri]

way to take things out of context <33 lemme show u some things i said in the actual post that aren't taken out of the connotations i meant to imply them with?

"they also are popular bc they're seen as Better than other creators and put on a pedestal. which is both uncomfortable for them and Highly discouraging for others." this was the whole sentence. way to take things out of context huh.

"many people just disregard other rlly talented creators in favor of the already popular ones (who are popular for a reason. their art / fics / wtv Are really good and i read their stuff too! not trying to put them down here, just trying to lift other people up)" so where in this sentence do u see me saying that they aren't good writers?

"also bragging rights? babe nobody's bragging abt how they get more interaction. that's rude asf and entirely out of the question. and those popular writers ur talking abt who Could brag if they wanted to DON'T. bc they aren't despicable human beings who love to put others down." so did i or did i not clarify that i think the people byler tumblr puts on a pedestal handle it gracefully.

also the way u phrased this is Exactly what's wrong with this fandom. have u ever read anything that wasn't be the 10 writers u idolized? i've found some AMAZING, FREAKISHLY TALENTED, SWEET AND ALL-ROUND LOVELY writers in fandom whom i never would've found if i didn't Specifically try to broaden my horizons. the way you phrased this implies that there is simply nobody who compares to the writers with most engagement and like... how would u know? isn't this exactly the kind of behavior i was saying was Not It? ur putting them on a pedestal and refusing to acknowledge other people, no matter how talented they may or may not be. i'm not saying everybody is an amazing writer right off the bat and that these writers aren't amazing; i'm saying that others may be just as good. i know Several amazing writers eho dont get half the recognition as mediocre writers in other fandoms (NOT! TALKING! ABT! BYLER! HERE!) based on luck and when exactly they post. u guys will never branch out and Try to support these other fic writers who are helping keep this fandom alive and contributing Beautiful fics and then say that the tag is dying just bc UR personal favorite creators aren't creating as much. this doesn't in any way diminish the obvious prowess and skill of the Big writers, bc they're amazing writers and people, but u suggesting that nobody else even comes close? this is NOT nyt bestsellers this is FANDOM. its common courtesy to atleast respect people who write these fics for free and if u can't provide basic respect by trashing others' writing that u haven't even read bc its not one of the Big writer's writing... ur part of the problem.

and im going to say it for the last Fucking time. dont bring my fics or engagement into this. im speaking for so many other people and im trying to demand support for Everyone. this was never just abt me. i said this previously too, but i made a whole ass EVENT to shine light on less popular writers. bylerficrecweek was made for a reason. if it was just abt me and my engagement i never would've wholeheartedly put my whole heart into that project. and don't u Fucking dare insult my writing. "maybe you're not as good at it as you think"? im fucking tired of u coming on my blog, claiming im saying a bunch of BULLSHIT and recontextualizing everything i say and insulting my writing on top of that. you won't see this bc ive blocked u now but. im genuinely so fucking tired. im turning off anon. clearly who ever is sending these has a problem with me personally; so say it with your whole pussy to my face now. ok thx and im Really Fucking Tired please read the post for what its meant to be before mindlessly accusing me of shit.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you have an opinion on the fanon ships of Lukagami and Felila ? People expected them to become canon before S5 shut the possibility of both of them down, especially Lukagami which from what I read had the red oni/blue oni paralel with their characters and also apparently the Snake and Dragon are supposed to be perfect matches in the Chinese Zodiac.

Lukagami

Generally speaking, I'm really not a fan of pairing up the rejected love interests. It often feels like it's only done to give everyone a romance-based happy ending and not because the rejected love interests are actually a good match. So, if it's a story where Luka and Kagami get together off screen or otherwise feel like their relationship is a consolation prize, then I'm probably not going to like it. I don't think that every character needs to be paired up for a story to have a happy ending.

However, I have now written these two characters in a fic where I gave them the non-love-interest-based roles that I think they always should have had. As a result, when I was writing them, I wasn't worried about the consolation prize issue and I can now see the appeal. I really came to enjoy their interactions! I even low-key ship them to the point where they may end up together by the end of that story even though that wasn't my original plan. They have a very fun dynamic when you let Kagami's rigidity play off of Luka's more go-with-the-flow nature, which is a variant of that whole red oni/blue oni thing.

I can't comment on the Chinese Zodiac part since I know very little about it and I don't think that canon actually used Chinese beliefs to assign characters to their miraculouses. That being said, I would love to see a story from someone who understands it all! Using the zodiac to hint at/guide who ends up together could be a really fun way to explain this part of Chinese culture.

As far as canon goes, I briefly thought that we were going to get Lukagami during Frozer. I thought that Adrinette's obvious disinterest in their dates was going to lead to a "you snooze, you lose" crush flip, but I quickly realized that was not going to be the case. I also thought that we might get Lukagami after the whole wax museum date at the start of season five, but that quickly went nowhere. Outside of those two moments, I don't think that Lukagami has much backing in canon since the two don't interact outside of the episodes where Adrien and Marinette need chaperones for their dates.

Final verdict: I think this couple has high potential. It's easily my favorite canon-based pairing for both Luka and Kagami. But I'm not surprised that it didn't happen it canon as I never really expected it to.

Felila

I adore villain couples who are insane about each other and villain couples who are just using each other, but may end up falling in love along the way. (It's one of the rare enemies to lovers setups I that I actually enjoy!) In other words, I'm at least theoretically here for Felila. I think it could have been a lot of fun!

I also think it has zero backing in the actual show. Felix and Lila never met and there was never any indication that they would. Even if they did, it's hard to picture a scenario where they'd get together. Their canon goals are just way too different, plus I don't see how a relationship would be mutual beneficial. While I could see Lila wanting the prestige of dating Felix or the in she gets from his relationship to the Agrestes, there's very little that Felix could get from Lila. She's a social climber with no true connections and he'd realize that in a heartbeat since Felix is allowed to be smart.

The stories I've read where these two get together almost always age the characters up and/or massively change the plot. They also tend to make Felix want a hot model girlfriend while not caring if she's just using him for status, which has no backing in canon. I'd argue it's actually a pretty major change to his character, though not one that ruins him by any means.

In other words, you need to make some serious changes to the story or the character or both to make this couple work. I am happy to indulge those changes in fanfic, but I just can't picture anything remotely close to canon that makes Felila work. If you've got a fic that proves me wrong, feel free to send it my way! I love seeing the clever ways that authors massage canon to make their ships work.

Final verdict: I could see a fanon version working, but I never thought it'd be a thing in canon nor do I see a way to make it work in canon.

[importantdestinydefendor]

I have a random Firelight AU question for you, if you don't mind! Maybe it will be come up in future chapters so feel free not to spoil if you want to save it for then, but: what do the Parsians think when they see Azar's horse Zaal? I assume spots are common to this Maaren type of horse, but presumably not so often seen in Pars (it may be present in the genepool but none of the horses we've seen in the manga have that leopard spotting pattern).

Parsians are an equestrian people so I have no doubt they'd be checking out other people's mounts, especially a mysterious delegate from another nation. Actually, I'm getting sidetracked now but I also wonder what the general Parsian opinion about Maar is?

(I'm definitely curious to know what Daryun thinks about Zaal but I'm sure your fic will give us his thoughts on the matter at some point, lol. Let's hope Zaal and Shabrang get along well!)

Okay, I actually have not thought about this at all, so thank you for being my brain and asking this questions!

Zaal was, if I remember what I said about him correctly, mostly bred for heavy farming. And since he is in a rather mountany terrain, he has a lot more muscle and fat to keep him warm in the colder climate. His breed was already on the island when the Maarer came over from Mayram (that is also where their name came from and their "main-god"). And because the breed found in the mountains is very strong and resiliant, they were chosen for the heavier load of farming. They are usually not used for riding.

Theyr fur pattern came to be so that the horses were not as visable to preditors when heavy snowfall acurse or they had to hide in not dangerous snow drifts (at least for the horses mostly in the mountains, the ones in the more flat terrain obviously evolved a little differently). And Zaal is suppose to be completelly white - but I couldn't find pictures actual full white Noriker horses (that is the in reality breed i based Zaal on.)

The Maarer usually use more slim horses or those bred for speed and agillity for travelling and - most importantly - the militery. Some were already on the island in the grasslands (the area between the more "beachy" terrain and the mountains) others they brough with them from Maryam.

As for the Parsians, they don't really see the other types of breeds Maar has besides the ones the merchants and military uses - so similar to theirs. The only difference is that Maaren horses are generally more on the sturdier side due to the big differences in climate and terrain in their habitat.

Also, on what they think about Maar as a whole, the normal parsian citizen thinks of this really tiny kingdom that someday just popped up and is rising amonst the internatonal traders. Since it is still rather young as a kingdom, there is not much known about it. Only that they are very welcoming to everyone, allow every religion and belief and - how outlandish - have no actual slave system (this information is not as well known amongst the normal folk, more amongst nobelity and merchants.)

And their wine is very good as are their metals. Since those are their maingoods. That they also use magic is seen as just a rumor to explain how they are so good at defending themselfs and are so quick to arrive everywhere.

Now to Daryun. Since Vahriz has told him a little bit more about Maar due to his personal connection, he knows that Zaals breed is mostly used for agriculture and other heavy things. So he probably does a little double take when offically meeting Azar (I don't count Azars first introdaction as "their first meeting" since they don't actually talk or properly interact with each other). Maybe he will even ask her about it someday!

I have yet to think about such little scenes and Azars actual reason as to why she chose Zaal as her mount lol. Feel free to give me ideas! Chuck them at me!

I hope this answered your questions!

[trainsinanime]

WIP reblog game

I got tagged by @chaos-has-theories and @into-september. Sorry for the delay in doing this, I just forgot about it.

If you're like me and you have a million WIPs and are anxious about updating them, play this game!

List the titles your top five priorities for WIP updates (link your fics for new readers!)

An upcoming scene, event, or detail in each fic that you're looking forward to writing

Bonus: make a poll for your followers to vote on which top 5 WIP they are most excited to see an update on!

Then tag 10 writer friends!

Let's start with the stories. So, I don't trust myself with multi-chapter stories, it takes me forever to write one-shots already, so (almost) none of these are out yet. You can read the ones that are out over here.

Operation Multifail. Three-chapter story where Marinette tries to convince Chat Noir to stop thinking about Multimouse by fighting as Multimouse, badly, on purpose, so he'll think she's incompetent. It doesn't quite work out.

Kwamidaddy Adrien. Assumes Marinette is the guardian. For reasons, Chat Noir has to take the Kwamis for a while. They all promised not to tell him anything about her private life. Shouldn't be a problem, right? This one may also end up being like three chapters

Chlogami Sabrina's Wedding. I think I posted a rough outline for chapter one here: It's Sabrina's wedding, and drunk Chloé confides in also-drunk Kagami about her complicated relationship to Sabrina, how she's happy for her but also jealous but also knows that because of their baggage, it could never work, while Kagami also has feelings about Adrien's and Marinette's upcoming wedding. I have like half a first draft of a first chapter here and absolutely no clue where this might go next.

Wings AU - Learning to Land. So there's a wings AU concept for Miraculous that keeps coming up every now and then. A bit too angsty for me, but when I first heard it, I thought it was a fun idea to talk about aerodynamics and world building in that context, specifically where Marinette teaches sheltered Adrien how to fly.

Plagg Interview. Now we're deep in the dregs, I picked a folder at random. Alya publishes interviews with someone close to Chat Noir's thinking. That someone: Plagg, who has been bribed with cheese. Marinette is not happy, but she can't say anything because Alya can't learn she's Ladybug. Yeah, this one's been sitting in my folder for a while. As have the others. Probably a one-shot.

Stuff I'm looking forward to in each fic:

The whole thing is based around big action set pieces. Three big Akuma fights, one in each chapter, which Marinette tries to fail at in different ways, and fails to fail, so to speak. I have no idea how to write these well, but I think that can be fun. Super-unpopular opinion: Fanfiction has way too much angst and romance and not enough action, and I'm definitely part of the problem myself.

Adrien interacting with the Kwamis who imprint on him as their father should be really adorable. As should the Kwamis trying their best to get Adrien and Marinette to marry (without revealing too much (they will reveal too much)).

Writing the banter between Chloé and Kagami is fun. I want to write more of it. I can definitely see someone taking that concept and turning it into, for lack of a better word, "normal long fic"; you know, thirty chapters, misunderstanding, they take a trip for a few chapters and return, so on and so forth. I'm not doing that, I don't have the work ethic and it's not actually my favourite genre of fanfic anyway. But what else could this story be? Figuring that out is an interesting challenge.

Aerodynamics! Learning to land! How do you learn to fly in a Wings AU? What does "rich kids aren't allowed to fly" mean for the world building? I don't have a story here at all but I do like the setting.

Plagg and Alya scheming together should be gold. Plagg trying to barter with a Marinette who can't reveal she's the Guardian has also a lot of comedic potential. Plagg trying to teach both of them how much Adrien needs them could be very emotional. Just Plagg.

Also, do you have any title ideas for any of these? I think Operation Multifail is good, the rest are just literally the file names I chose when I started with these projects.

I am tagging, very much at random, @sizzleissues, @pauliestorylover, @oblivionhold, @wrw47, @precious-notes, @kyuunonana, @aidanchaser, @aanabear2803, @valtionrautatiet-official and @cosmiccarrotcake. The requirement for inclusion was "I found you in my activity view in the past three months", so if you don't know what fanfic is, or don't feel like doing this, do feel free to ignore this.

[ruinationz]

what is up gamers of the jury it is time for another tadc fic. @numericalsins this one is for you bestie :3c

desc from ao3:

(("i was wondering if i can request something with jax and ragatha. doesn't have to be a ship or anything like that (or it can, if you want it to be, i honestly dont mind) i just want to see these two sillies interact :sob: THEY'RE SO SILLY !!!"-numericalsins, dis one is for youuu))

ma. ma the girls are fighting again.

(or, ragatha confronts jax. guys omg look how great friends they are totally mhm)

ok have fun this is another song based fic because i am diseased. look under the cut to read ok bye

"...Why do you have to be such a jerk to everyone?"

...

Jax made no effort to look or even glance at Ragatha from the wall he leaned upon, arms crossed as he stared off to the side.

"...What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'!?" She snapped at him as he rolled his eyes with a bored sigh.

"You know what I'm talking about! You've been mean to me, you've been mean to Gangle, you've been mean to everyone, for absolutely no reason at all-"

"It's not always for 'no reason'," He countered, cutting her off. "Miss Ribbons was smiling at me wrong last time. It was getting on my nerves."

Ragatha opened her mouth to scold him, then fell silent as she closed it to take a deep breath and compose herself.

"...Look, Jax: You may not like everyone here, and I really get that..." She began to make an attempt to reason with him, despite the rabbit's clear disinterest in what she had to say.

"...But...still! In the end, it's all of us against that...weird guy! So...we're kind of supposed on the same team, aren't we?"

...

A snicker that turned into a chuckle, then Jax soon burst into full-fledged laughter at her words. It lasted for a good minute or two before dying down, him giving a sigh as he wiped a tear from his eye and stood up straight.

"...You're crackin' me up, dolly. You know that?" He began to approach Ragatha as he spoke.

"I mean, you gotta think about it: You don't know these people. You're putting blind faith into a whole bunch of strangers! For all you know, they could stab you in the back at any moment!"

The rabbit narrowed his eyes into two yellow slits as his everlasting grin stretched across his face, then turned his back on the doll.

"...Of course, I don't know what I expected from someone like you." He said, as he began to walk away from her. "You don't think with your brains, you think with your heart. And, y'know...that's not very useful in a place like this."

The doll stared at the rabbit's back as he made his way towards the exit, taking in his words, until finally opening her mouth to respond:

"...I might think with my heart, but at least I still have one."

...

Jax stopped in place at that retort, his crossed arms falling to his sides, and Ragatha watched as he stood there completely silent before leaving the room entirely.

...

...Was he actually thinking for a second there...?

Ragatha shook her head and sighed, taking her hands from her hips and walking away to find something to distract herself from the situation.