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saleeba · 1 year ago

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silver studs ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ booking yourself & jude a piercing date!

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x gn!reader

content ♡ fluff, descriptions of piercings/body modification/needles, reader is implied to already have had their ears pierced, jude is a dramatically big baby in this (*roy keane voice* what a big baby... baby!), all around silly billy vibes idek pls read this xx

a/n ♡ girlies (gn!) let’s form a prayer circle & manifest jude having pierced ears in 2024 🕯🕯🕯 i’ve seen some ppl say he would look so good w a nose piercing too and ohhhh my goodness 😵‍💫 i don’t even wanna think abt it my heart is actually palpitating </3 this fic is very much drawn from my own need to get abt 10 new piercings when i can barely take care of my current ones 🫠 enjoyyy my lovelies! 🩵🤍

"jude, come on, hurry up, we're going to be late!" you scold your boyfriend who seems to be taking about one-eighth of every rushed step you take, trailing behind with his hands in his pockets and a defeated puppy-dog look on his face.

“i’m sure it’s still not too late to cancel, babe,” he begins, stopping in his tracks and prompting you to do the same as exasperation takes over your features. “m-maybe we can come back next year?”

you’re in disbelief at your giant baby of a lover now. just last week he was begging you to take him along with you to your nose piercing appointment, a passive comment you had made about him suiting earrings so well spinning his mind into a spiral of pinterest searches and jewellery wishlists. you had even caught him “trying on” your assortment of studs before pressing on your previous comment of how good he would look if he had his ears pierced.

“next year?! jude, the appointment’s in three minutes!” you start to walk backwards so that you can make sure he follows and doesn’t just leg it back to the car. “why are you being such a wimp about it?”

a sweetly deep frown sets on jude’s face, that previous puppy-like trait now seeping into the way he walks towards you. truthfully, the gravitas of the situation has only just set for him, the fantastical image of a metre-long needle coming in to pierce his ears and the unimaginable pain it must create causing nervous prickles to run down his spine. oh god, why did i say yes to this? he’s never been one to be comfortable with needles and other sharp objects in any capacity; needing you to chop all the ingredients whenever you cook together or clear your schedule for the whole day whenever he has a blood test so that you’re there to hold his hand — well, so that you’re there for him to squeeze the living daylights out of your hand.

it was a bafflement to you, though — the boy had undergone multiple terrible injuries and operations but was shit-scared of tools that barely laid a scratch. although, you’ve absolutely made sure to clown him for it at every given chance.

“i’m not being a whimp!” jude’s defensiveness never relents, no matter the situation, and it makes your eyes roll. “it’s just… you’re definitely going first.” he hurriedly declares, hoping to delay the nightmarish events about to unfold for him.

you finally catch onto what he’s trying to say and do, the irrationality of it all causing a chuckle to leave your lips. you can’t believe this six-foot-something boy has such an aversion to something that is barely two inches.

“aww, sweetheart,” you feign a sarcastically sugary pout. “does my baby need his hand holding… again?” an amused grin takes place on your face, all toothy and genuine when jude comments on how annoying you are with a teasing push to your shoulder.

“jude, how many times have i told you that it barely hurts? it’s just a small, sharp pinch,” that old comparison, jude thinks to himself. “here, i’ll show you.”

he jumps out the way of your mischievous fingers before they can land on his skin and deliver a squeeze that is definitely neither small nor sharp. you laugh at his scaredy-cat antics before tugging on his hand, leading him down the street to your destination, encouraging him with dialogue about how pretty he’s going to look once this is done and how you two can maybe wear matching earrings to all the red carpet events you attend from now on.

jude can’t help but think how he’d really like that, already his mind is thinking of how it could be an intimate ritual of your own, the world always knowing you belong to him and he belongs to you when you step out, your bond branded and sealed in two pairs of the same earrings.

there's a slight bump in his path that pulls jude away from his daydreaming and back into the way you're addressing him, announcing that you're both finally at the door of the piercing shop. you don't miss the way his hand dampens in yours but you try to soothe it with a reassuring squeeze.

"hey, five quid for the person that doesn't cry when we're in there." you suggest, playfulness painted in your eyes and smile.

"oh, shut up," jude laughs, tilting his head towards the storefront before counterattacking. "tenner?"

you take up his offer and seal the deal with a quick handshake. “you're on."

the pair of you step into the piercing shop, the vibrant sights of commissioned art and citrusy scents of sterilising products immediately filling your senses. everything is so cozy and inviting, though; the open space looking like it's straight out of a pinterest board with its boho-esque decor and pops of pink and blue.

you're able to check in and be seated in the waiting area a couple of minutes after your intended appointment time, apologising beforehand to the receptionist but not without saving a bantering side eye for your boyfriend. you barely sit yourselves down before the piercer, a mid-twenties lady clad in all black with arms scattered in tattoos, calls your name, prompting the both of you to stand up and make yourselves known.

she introduces herself as clara and invites you and jude over to the small setup of sofas by her station, the large piercing chair looming opposite them. it reminds jude of the chair they make you sit in at the dentist, its size and seclusion bringing that spiky feeling of anxiety right back into the column of his spine.

"so, who's the braver one out of the two of you?" clara beams, eyeing the way jude shrinks himself into the couch and how you raise your hand, mirroring her smile.

"that would definitely be me," you announce as jude pouts on the side, refusing to believe that you've teamed up with the piercer to bully him now.

"alright then, my love. hop onto the chair and we'll get you done in no time."

you truly are done in no time, now inspecting your new nose piercing in the mirror that clara holds up for you. you're thankful that you went with the fourteen-karat gold when asked to choose between that and a plain black stud, the colour shimmering against your skin tone so nicely that you forgive the momentary pain it caused as the needle punctured the skin of your nostril.

however, for jude, it's the only thing that's sticking in his mind. the way you were wincing as clara pushed the tool through, the gritting of your teeth and the subsequent welling-up of your eyes are all warning signs for him to pull out of this whole ordeal, run out the door and never look back, jude, y/n will forgive you.

"what say you, my friend?" clara now turns to your boyfriend, who wishes that the cushions would swallow him up but his eyes force themselves to look at you, your own ones lighting up in amusement — eyebrows raised as if to ask if he dares to accept this challenge.

"you still up for it, babe? you really don't have to if you don't want to, y'know?" to an unsuspecting stranger, your words would be saccharine and supportive but jude knows this is actually your way of saying are you really going to run away from this, you coward? the narrowing of your eyes may look inquisitive to others but they hold an impish tone of accusation for jude.

however, with his head held high, he returns a look of defiance straight into your eyes, as if he's replying with a watch me boss this, sweetheart.

"of course i'm still up for it, love," he answers, getting up from the sofa and attempting to mask the shakiness of his voice from not speaking for a while (something completely alien to the boy; god, he really is nervous). "wouldn't want all the attention on you when we step out together, y'know, wanna give the people something fresh, something new."

you vacate the chair with a laugh, hands splayed out and gesturing towards it, a slight bend in your stand, almost bowing down. "your throne, my liege."

jude rolls his eyes in hilarity, situating himself in the chair as you swap places with him, now in the company of the bright fabric of the couch and cushions. clara sets out the array of jewellery in front of him, informing him about the differences between and benefits of each one before jude settles on the option of the prettiest silver studs he's seen — the colour and the shine of them almost reflect in a twinkle of his eyes and he's now besotted. once the studs are laid out for clara to work with, she goes on to prep the piercing tools on the counter to the side of jude, her being out of view causing that familiar prickling feeling to run through his veins again. all he can do is set his sights on you, trying to claw some comfort back into his mind while his brows furrow in increasing worry.

you can't help but instantly run to his left side, your heart not being able to bear any inkling of pain or discomfort on your lover's face.

"hey, scaredy-cat," you speak softly, going to grip his hand in yours, and leaving a small peck of your lips on it, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his heated skin as clara gives a knowing giggle before she assures jude that he has absolutely nothing to worry about and that the great choice in jewellery he's made will surely not go to waste. she makes a joke about how he might get a sticker for being a good boy and it serves as a brief distraction as she lines the needle with jude's right earlobe, the boy grimacing as the sharpness hits him for a second.

and that's all it is. a flash of a second, another on the other ear, your hand still in his, and it's all done. the feeling of relief and achievement is like no other for jude.

"there we go, my lovely," clara concludes, putting her supposed instruments of torture down and holding the mirror up to jude's face, prompting him to check out how everything looks. "what do we think?"

he's beyond ecstatic with how he looks in his new earrings, the silver glistening in the light against the brown of his skin, the size of the studs just perfect for him. he looks to you for approval, though; he wants to hear all the praise from you.

"you look amazing, jude!" you're smiling ear-to-ear, eyes lit up in sheer admiration at how hot your boyfriend looks right now. well, he's always been hot but this? this is a whole new level that you're glad you've unlocked. "you were amazing, too. how was it? did it hurt as bad as you were thinking?"

he replies with a bashful shake of his head, smiling at his prior silliness over something that lasted seconds not even worth counting on his fingers.

"no, not at all," jude admits. "feel a bit stupid now, though, i was panicking over nothing." he lets out a genuine laugh at himself and you join in, not forgetting to let him know how proud you are of him and how you're going to be dragging him from shop to shop to pick out new earrings for when his piercings heal. jude thinks to himself that he won't need dragging around now; he'll happily lead the way to picking out new stuff, experimenting with colours and shapes.

once clara gives you two the rundown on piercing aftercare 101 and her contact details should any of you run into any problems, she sends you on your way with a goodie bag of saline solution and sweets.

hand in hand, you walk out of the shop with jude, chattering on about when the next awards ceremony that the two of you are invited to could be and what sort of outfit you might wear and how you would co-ordinate clothes and jewellery.

the pair of you stop in front of an café, you asking jude if he's up for a coffee before you start your earring-hunting adventure.

"yes, please," jude responds, hand enclasping yours in the most loving way before he drops his next line aided by a grin that is the epitome of shit-eating. "besides, you owe me a tenner after all the crying you did in there."

#right! now i've upset myself by writing this & realising i’ll never get to have piercedbf!jude in my life 👎🏽👎🏽👎🏽#my first fluff tho !!! i hope it was ok for everyone :)#˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗#jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x gn!reader #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x male reader #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer fluff

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diminuel · 2 years ago

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It’s time for a lunch break and since SPNWIN is now uploaded, I’m going to write down my thoughts! Spoilers and some thoughts about fanfic, under the cut.

I still feel Dean sounds slightly different, like he lived in a different place for a while and picked up the hints of an accent. But I might be totally off. It’s normal that people sound differently when they’re talking and when they’re narrating something, especially something that was written down. It might just be that.

John’s already on his way to being an “obsessive bastard” (Dean’s words) while Lata and Carlos are trying to show him ways to work through the underlying issue of his aggressive behaviour. I think he does have the capacity to break out of it, at least he talks to Mary about it and he asks Lata for help. But things – the hunt – get in the way. So I suppose, like with Dean and Sam who are prone to anger and obsession, there’s always something that keeps him from figuring out a better path.

A statue of Michael in Mary’s parents’ office? It’s pretty conspicuous, as it doesn’t seem to fit the rest of the Campbell interior decorating style. Two times so far (that I’ve been aware of) we’ve seen Michael. Hm hm.

“Hunt’s over. You get to rest.” Did get me a bit. ;w; It does fit itself into the idea that the only rest a hunter gets is when the hunt is over – and for many hunters it’s not over until they get killed. Tracy tried to get out -for the wrong reasons – and has to go back. Mary wants out but if this follows SPN’s flashback episodes, then she’s going to get out because her family is dead and she had to make a deal to get John back. It’s tragic how we see Mary’s hope being set upon getting out (finishing school, going to college) and knowing what the future holds in store for her.

Though I did find it interesting that her plans for the future are school and college, whereas flashback Mary in SPN seemed to be focused on marrying and having a family. These things are of course not mutually exclusive but one could read the angelic meddling into it. Because angels don’t care whether she gets an education, they care about getting her settled with John so that she can give birth to Dean and Sam.

By the way, the presence of certain phrases we’ve heard before (in SPN) raises my alarm bells X’D Cute parallels or warning signs??

Both Lata and Carlos were of course also great. I hope Carlos gets out, buys Tracy’s farm and plants a lot of weed. :P

One last comment: I kept thinking about S12 Mary. How when she left the boys, she went to look for her old contacts and friends, who were mostly dead. Which then led me to think about a fic in which she does find Lata and Carlos. Which then made me wonder about whether we are going to be seeing SPNWIN elements in regular fanfic? I haven’t had time to read fics in a while so I can’t say! But I’ve been thinking about writing an AU set in the 90s and maybe it would make sense for Lata and Carlos to be around as family friends? So there’s not just uncle Bobby and aunt Ellen, but also uncle Carlos (though not sure he would enjoy being called uncle) and aunt Lata?

#Effi stuff #Supernatural #The Winchesters #spnwin #spnwin spoilers #spoilers

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breadqueen95 · 4 years ago

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Dress - Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader

wc: 5k

plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier.

content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt.

a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him

***

Damn. That was a lot of leg.

“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”

“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”

“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.

But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.

“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”

“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.

“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.

“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”

“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”

Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.

“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.

What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.

Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…

At that point you were in love.

But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.

As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.

And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.

“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”

“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.

What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.

***

Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.

You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.

It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?

And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…

Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.

It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.

Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.

So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.

It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.

Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?

Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.

“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?

After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.

“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”

“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”

“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”

“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.

“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”

“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”

“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”

“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”

“Nope, not a chance.”

“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”

His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren��t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.

“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”

“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.

His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.

“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?

“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”

“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”

“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”

You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.

“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”

“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.

“Uh…um…get on with what?”

“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”

“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?

“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.

“Well you better kiss me, then.”

As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.

***

That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.

All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.

You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…

Damn, you felt sexy.

And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.

But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.

The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?

The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.

As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.

“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.

“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”

Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.

The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.

Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”

“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.

“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.

“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”

“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.

Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?

Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.

As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.

“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”

“Is that all?”

Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.

“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”

“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”

Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.

“I want you.”

It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.

“Well why don’t you—”

“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”

Was…was he slurring his words?

“Thor…are you drunk right now?”

He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.

“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”

“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?

“Of course, metal appendage.”

“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”

“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.

“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.

“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”

“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”

“Bucky—”

“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”

Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.

And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.

***

As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.

For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.

Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…

But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.

But god damn, that dress.

Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?

She was breathtaking.

“Buck, you breathing?”

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.

“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.

“Uh, probably because the girl you��re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”

Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.

“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”

“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”

“…fuck.”

“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.

Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”

“We’re that obvious?”

“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”

“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.

***

“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”

“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”

Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.

“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”

“What do you me—”

Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.

Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.

“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”

“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”

Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”

“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.

The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.

As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.

Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.

“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”

He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.

Oh damn.

Okay.

No complaints here.

“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”

The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.

“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.

“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”

***

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x you #dress #jenna writes #i love lanie #laniestaylorswiftwc

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theromanticscrooge · 3 years ago

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Rambles About AleHeather and my Fan Stuff

I’ve been thinking about what cartoons and media I’ve watched over the years that stuck with me in a significant way. The one cartoon that’s stuck to me like glue is Total Drama World Tour. Or more specifically, how the characters Alejandro and Heather have been living in my mind rent free for the past 10 years.

I’ve been embarrassed about admitting that this stupid cartoon was part of my life, but the older I get, the less fucks I give. Everyone has some kind of media they enjoy and significantly engage with, whether it’s geeking out with friends or writing fan fiction about or whatever. There’s so many established authors and artists that got their start writing fan fics or drawing fan art. And it can be a fantastic outlet for self-expression, too. And who cares if that “thing” isn’t an Oscar-winning masterpiece? Not every work of fiction has to meet some high standard to be enjoyable and it’s absolutely okay for someone to enjoy trashy content.

In regards to Total Drama, I like it for the cheesy, ridiculous romp that it is. But there’s only so far the concept of a reality TV show parody can go. Season 1 was the strongest execution for this concept and probably the only season I’d seriously recommend to someone that wasn’t already a fan. Otherwise, AleHeather is about the only reason I revisit Total Drama in any capacity. I LOVE how petty, dramatic, and ridiculous both of them are. I love the soap operatic theatrics. They steal the show with their dumb, fun banter and underhanded schemes. They’re the only fictitious couple I prefer as “rivals to lovers to rivals” vs permanently stable canon. And damn, I had fun playing with or dialing that dynamic to 11 in my own derivative works.

I remember starting a Total Drama High School AU fan fic called “Captivated” on a whim and getting stupid excited when it took off. It was thrilling to read the reviews on fanfiction.net and know that someone was enjoying reading my off-the-rails soap opera as much as I was writing it. It was one part entertaining my childhood dream of being an author and one part wish fulfillment. In high school, I was a meek, overly conscientious nerd with my nose stuck in a book. It was cathartic playing the ridiculously capable charmer Alejandro that could, in theory, get whatever he wanted and seduce whomever he wanted.

I didn’t give Heather as much teeth as I feel like she should have in a proper fic. She’s in a shallow relationship with Justin to bolster her reputation. She’s not popular unless she’s dating a handsome, D-list celebrity. That could be an interesting angle. Heather comes across as mean and unpleasant. In the show, it’s implied if not outright depicted that she tries damn hard to be involved in everything she can but pushes others away because of her attitude. But, my fic doesn’t explore why Heather is so desperate to stay popular and she only maintains her spot because of Alejandro, another handsome face. I wrote Heather as just a love interest.

Then I tried 2 other rewrites in 2014 and 2019 respectively. And there’s my weird attempt at writing my own Total Drama season where it’s competing couples, Chris and Blaineley host, there’s Greek gods, a mad scientist, and supernatural/paranormal creatures. There’s at least two attempts at that one and it started shifting from “If Aleheather were a bad YA novel” to “This is the backstory of my mad scientist OC....”

Besides writing bad fanfiction, I also have a mountain of old AleHeather fanart from between 2010-2014. It’s fluffy. It’s angsty. They’re plugged into weird scenarios as demons, angels, and otherwise. Most of the time I rendered them in the TD art style, but there’s a few in my attempts at a “digital paper cut-out” style, too. I latched onto these two in such a way that...it shaped a huge, significant part of what my art was at that time. So, I have a perpetual soft spot for these idiots as well as online galleries excessively full of ship art, fan art, whatever.

Hell, that part of my life is why I’ll gladly argue in favor of fan fiction and fan art every time.

If I piqued your interest, there’s links to some of the bad fanfiction mentioned and more of my old fanart under the cut.

Captivated (2010): https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6201865/1/Captivated?__cf_chl_jschl_tk__=hADR8nSo8_MbzsgvRSvoqUFgUl73YvCdLhD2yJoxnCY-1636302698-0-gaNycGzNBr0

One Word Revenge (2010) : https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6318851/1/One-Word-REVENGE

#total drama #total drama world tour #tdwt #total drama fan art #total drama fanfiction #aleheather #alejandro x heather #fan rambles #rambles #old fan art #old fan fiction #old fan fic #aeon borealis #fanart #fanfiction #retrospective

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mightbewriting · 4 years ago

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So I came to W&H and B&E in an odd way. I'm a long time Dramione fic reader who like many of us doubled down on in 2020 to find comfort in a bananas year. I kept seeing W&H on everyone's rec list, but for whatever reason kept putting it off. Then I heard about the prequel and decided to wait for that to be finished, read it, then do W&H. But once it was finished, I saw you recommended W&H first so I was like okay I'll do that. I struggle with impulse control but am trying to do better so when I saw the audiobook for W&H I was like perfect, I'll listen rather than read that way I won't gobble it up in a day. Ha well that did not work, I listened to the first 3 chapters (at that time those were the only chapters they had recorded) then instantly ran not walked to A03, reread said chapters, then continued on. At Chapter 4 of W&H, I thought hmm maybe I'll read them simultaneously. I continued that way maybe through Chapter 13 of B&E and Chapter 7ish then fully committed to W&H first. I cannot imagine reading these fics in real time because reading them in full, back to back was the most intense glutenous binge and it's taken over my life in the best way. I have been living in your fictional universe for the past two weeks. I started a list of all the parallels and callbacks and eventually had to call it because they are innumerable. I'm awed. In literal awe. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Your writing - the individual words of your vast vocabulary, the way you string said words together into hilarious, heart breaking, heart stopping, beautiful, and visceral feelings is astounding. It's hard to explain but even good writers (and/or an intriguing plot) sometimes do not create an overall immersive feeling. But the feelings your words evoke are all encompassing and truly universe building. Like it's not just the wording or the plot or the charters but all of it together come to make something even greater than the sum of their parts. Your writing, your universe of W&H, S&S, and B&E live in my mind and heart and in an embarrassing amount of screenshots of passages on my phone and in voice memos to myself as I don't have anyone irl to fan girl with. When I think of your words and the world you built, I'm reminded of a Taylor Swift lyric: "it cut deep to know you, right to the bone". That is how I'd describe your writing's effect on me, but in the best way.

Your brain's capacity to plot, plan, and flawlessly deliver W&H THEN B&E? Idk how you kept all the threads and plot points and moments and timelines in check. My head aches just thinking about how you wrote these stand-alone but also inextricable works of art. Like how does one's brain function in such a level? And it's especially telling in B&E because we knew where we were going but I still gasped, screamed, squealed, giggled, had to put my phone down, clutched it to my heart, fist pumped, stopped half way through just for a minute to breath and take it all in, and overall looked and acted as an utter idiot during each and every chapter because while I knew where we were going I also had no idea! I'm just floored you managed to keep us at the edge of our seats with a prequel? Who does that? You do!

The texts in the final chapter of W&H devastated me, literal chills. I think about that daily. It's exactly what H and we needed. Just like a reminder of what they went through. It reminded me of Chapter 41 of B&E. Like a summary of where they had been and where they are now.

The other thing that rattled in my brain is the motifs of choice and time, life kind of boils down to those two things huh? But choice especially. It's funny because choice is so prominent but at the same time how W&H and B&E give off soulmate vibes even though this is not a soulmate fic (also are the rumors true...?!) because despite time turners, breakups, and lost memories, they always come back together. But more on choice: it's just as Draco says - in a million scenarios he'll always choose her and he feels lucky she chose him just once. But of course with W&H, she does it twice. And she does it in both timelines of B&E, and of course that's the problem when Draco realizes he has not done the same hence heartbreak 1.0. And just god - he wants her to have a choice with the potion, a choice with her memories, and stops the timey wimey madness by realizing he's taking her choice (and in a way H started it by taking away his choice and leaving the first time). And then those parts about how he chose her, she chose him, but they could not chose each other. This motif, these callbacks. I'm flabbergasted. It's just hitting me now that you extend the choice to us as readers - we get to choose whether H get her memories back or not.

Theo in all your Wait and Hope universe, but especially S&S broke me. Blaise asking who is taking care of Theo when he's taking care of everyone else? Theo's literal and figurative demons? Yikes. Those were unpleasant looks in the mirror for me. I'm glad Theo has his Blaise. Where's mine haha? Also just shout to your underrated Blaise. The fact that he might be my favorite of the Slytherians in your stories says a lot since he doesn't say a lot haha. But he packs such a punch in all your works.

Okay, after singing your well deserved praises and fan girling and marveling at your works (god this is so long, I'm so sorry!), at long last my ask. I still cannot get this out of my head: what did Theo mean in Chapter 1 of B&E when he suggests to Draco “I know that. Maybe you could—tell her some of—” some of what? I zeroed in on this as soon as I read it and it's been rattling in my brain ever since.

um. hi? holy shit. i dont know how to process this. i am resisting the impulse to cringe away from the level of praise happening here because i really need to learn how to take a compliment but oh my god? i am not...this is just...wowzers. you are very literally too kind to me. i have melted into a puddle of feelings in my reading chair here.

so, first things first: thank you. these are some of the nicest things i’ve ever heard about my writing and i can guarantee i will come back to this ask when I'm feeling like i suck and need a motivation boost. i can’t deny...it feels really nice to know that at least one person out there caught and appreciated some of the insane attention to detail i forced upon myself lol. so thank you. truly, thank you so much for saying such amazingly kind things that have short circuited my brain!

and im sure my friends at @etl-echo-audiobooks will be over the moon to know that their recording work was such a hit! your trajectory reading these stories is so fun and hilarious and probably the most unique reading experience i’ve heard so far xD

also, please be advised that your analysis on choice in these stories is probably going to live in my head rent free for the rest of my life. i feel seen, you know? you just...picked up what i was putting down and it feels really nice to know that it worked for you!

and ok. your question. that little dash of ambiguity i was planning on leaving open ended. but let it be known i can be plied with compliments. i can’t just *not* give you something in return for such a lovely and kind and thoughtful dose of joy you had absolutely no obligation to give me today.

so, in my mind, after draco’s house arrest ended and before he went abroad for his mastery, he and theo had an extensive (most likely drunken. also blaise was probably there too) night of reflection where they kind of just looked back at their childhoods and the war and the history of blood purity and just sort of went: “what the fuck?” i imagine draco probably confided in theo that when he went abroad, he planned to just try and pretend like none of it mattered, to see if that was really true. and draco probably kept him updated via owl (even though draco did not write enough and theo had feelings about that) so that by the time draco returned and we have theo asking that sort of trailing question, the implication at the end is “what if you told granger some of your realizations about it all?” so...not all that exciting? but there you have it!

in conclusion: thank you! you are too kind! i appreciate your thoughtful commentary SO much! i’m so happy you enjoyed these stories. and i hope the explanation of what theo was going to say wasn’t too underwhelming.

#thegirlwhowatchedeverything #asks #death by kindness #my death #i am dead #oh also yes #they rumors are true #im writing a soulmate story next #i intend to hurt you #you being ALL of you #*evil laughter*

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bao3bei4 · 4 years ago

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i have basically covered the material in this post several times on my twitter. but this is, in my opinion, the only s*xy t*mes with w*ngxian take you need.

(cw transphobia, transphobic slurs, antiblack racism, mentions of csa and bestiality in fiction)

edit 6/10/21: hi! i’m realizing people are still reading this! this was written in response to aja romano’s vox article on the fic that was published in late february of this year. i had been frustrated with how their article seemed to miss the point in many ways, because they never talked about the substance of the fic. which, i mean, fair. i wouldn’t want to read a 1million word fic either.

but i already had, so i thought i’d write about some things that i believed needed to be part of the conversation. namely, that its author wasn’t a harmless troll, but a person i genuinely disliked who i believed should be deplatformed.

i think virtual1979 is a bad person.

i think a lot of people mainly know about sexy times the phenomenon more than they do sexy times the fic itself. i have the dubious honor of being one of the few people who has actually read large portions of the million word fic, and that’s why i wanted to write this meanspirited hit piece.

the fic is down right now and the author’s notes and comments have both been deleted, which is why i cannot provide screenshots. however, these are all quotes i have saved from when the fic was online, and i’m happy to talk with anyone if you feel any of these quotes are mischaracterizations of the fic.

i also want to be clear this is not a “callout post” and i’m not trying to “cancel” them or whatever. i am just explaining why i don’t like them, why i don’t feel bad they’re being harassed, and why i do not find them sympathetic at all, and perhaps why you should also adopt these stances.

let’s start with transphobia.

sexy times with wangxian is transphobic. this much is apparent from the tags. virtual1979 tagged the following: F*tanari, d*ckgirl, Sh*male. they use this language in the chapters that include a character with both a vagina and a penis.

they refer to this character (wei wuxian) with the pronouns “he-she.” the following excerpt is a fair representation of how this wei wuxian is referred to in the chapters where wei wuxian has a vagina and a penis.

[Lan Zhan] would never be turned on by a female, and he would actually be turned off by a drag queen - but this… this Wei Ying, it’s Wei Ying, and he-she looks [...]

i know these words are common in porn categories, but they are also slurs. virtual1979 also uses hermaphrodite to refer to this set of anatomy, which is not strictly a slur, but definitely a stigmatizing choice of language.

they have repeatedly made clear they are not open to criticism. they have also since removed the comment section. making an intersex character for the express purpose of using transmisogynistic language towards them in your million word porn fic isn’t annoying the way their tags are, it’s actively fucked up.

fanfiction has a transphobia problem, and if we’re talking about sexy times with wangxian in any capacity, we must be clear: sexy times with wangxian is part of that problem too.

secondly, virtual1979 is also complicit in ao3’s racism problem.

i think the way they write about chinese characters and settings is annoying and racist, but they are a malaysian chinese person, so i do have some sympathy for them. i am committed to having some patience for people who are annoying if they themselves are working through the prejudice they have faced.

they’ve commented as much:

Not gonna lie, this fic has been a steep learning curve for me despite my roots being Chinese as well, but I have absolutely zero knowledge in some of these aspects!

and i’m happy on some level they can get in touch with their roots. who among us has not been cringe and diaspora. any criticisms i have of their portrayal of chinese people will stay private and be made to other people of color.

i’m going to be clear here i don’t think the actual comment they made makes them super evil or anything. but this essay IS clearly in response to That Article, which did mention racism in fandom. so.

i think we have all seen the infamous karen comment they made, in which they compared people who criticized their tagging with “Karens,” equating antiblack state violence to... mean comments on ao3? and “SJWs,” which, eye roll. no ageism but you’re 41 why the hell are you complaining about sjws

anyway. i am deeply frustrated by the co-option of the word karen. a stand-in for a particular type of racist violence white women specifically can and do inflict has become fused with that reddit-type mommy issue “can i speak to the manager” internecine white resentment.

so their trivialization of antiblack racism is another reason i don’t like them. again i KNOW it’s petty to point this out here, but this to me shows that virtual is afflicted with the same kind of fandom brainrot that aja is, where everything comes back to that same sort of self-centered bullshit.

sorry for that jab. julian told me that aja thought that cql was about callout culture and all i could think was “wow! just like virtual thinking that--” because i also have spent too much time on twitter this week.

this is just like. part of this ongoing pattern i’ve noticed with virtual, where they’re aware enough of real problems to acknowledge they exist (police violence, accessibility issues caused by their tagging) but are determined to double down on their minor relative persecution as king, shittily drawing parallels between like... real problems and fandom problems. equating the two or allowing the second to take priority over the former is like... par for the course for this type of person!

third, this is just another clarification on more parallels between ao3 discourse and sexy times that went completely unremarked on by That Article.

i would rather DIE than get into discourse. but why did they write this sentence:

Lan Zhan’s rational mind finally broke with a tsunami of pedophilic lusts [...]

by the way that is the start of a 430 word sentence. and yes this fic does contain hundreds of thousands of words of aged down wei wuxian. make of that what you will.

also why would you make wei wuxian teach baby chickens how to sexually pleasure him. do you hate these characters. what’s going on. i think mxtx should be able to sue virtual for that one.

there’s a very obvious connection between mainstream ao3 discourse and sexy times that went completely unremarked on in That Article. sexy times contains multitudes and some of those multitudes are bestiality and explicit childfucking.

this is not unrelated to fannish culture, they are not unfamiliar with fannish norms, blah blah blah. this is just normal fandom. they’re not subverting shit, they’re just a normal fan who unlike 99% of fanfiction writers on twitter, spends more time writing than posting. this has taken their fannish tendencies to cartoonish heights.

finally, they don’t care about mdzs or wangxian. they’re literally just horny and spiteful that’s it. this isn’t a question of like... “ohh they were a good faith participant in fandom until they went joker mode” and the REAL villain is society/ao3. like no they wanted to write shitty porn, and when they found out they were annoying people, they decided to double down because they could be the main character of the mdzs ao3 tag every time they found a spare hour to write.

here are some select receipts on that topic:

they do not care about canon:

MDZS has quite a complicated and expansive plot and history, and enough content that one can choose to tune out certain parts and still get to the end of the story in one piece. Also, because of its source, some fans may not fully realize the nuances, cultural aspects (ooh, cultural appropriation is another triggering topic) or the full breadth and depth of the source material, such as a person like me, who is half-baked in terms of knowing what the canon universe is all about. So I end up playing with characters and settings technically borrowed from the story, and make them do things that would otherwise run counter to the original source material - and that draws quite some flak from those opinionated people I mentioned just now. It's part of what makes the fandom toxic. It's like they're the self-appointed guardians of the source material and they act like they own the rights to question such questionble fanworks, and dare I say, try to take down those that cross certain lines too.

they are just horny:

After that giddines of extra drunken Lan Wang Ji scenes at the beginning, I'm blessed with Lan Wang Ji (Wang Yibo's, actually) fuzzy nips! Bless Bless Bless, and Amen! muahs the nips on the screen

anyway they did get nuked over wishing covid on people.

so yeah. i want to be really clear. this is my thesis: i do not feel bad for them. you should not either. i do not like them. you should not either. that’s ALL!!!!

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akaashisupremacy · 4 years ago

Text

Connecting Flights w/Iwa

Summary: On Hajime Iwaizumi’s flight back to Japan, he meets an unexpected friend from his past who is a little hung up on someone else.

Iwaizumi x fem!reader/Oc || Read it on A03

Genre : romance, friends to lovers (wc: 2.2k)

Notes: Hiromi Miura is an original character, but readers are free to put themselves into her shoes! Coming of age fics are fun to write but I wanted to explore a world centered around adulthood that included a work life outside one’s significant other. Hope you can give me feedback on whatever world-building I’ve done. Successive chapters will def have more Iwa.

Hiromi Miura packed the last of her toiletries into her large black check-in luggage. Rolling the luggage out into the hallway, she checked her phone for the third time in ten minutes. Her boss, Hayate Hoshizora stood in the hallway waiting for her with her own luggage standing beside her.

“Where’s Tsuchida?” she asked.

Itsumi Tsuchida was the third member of their team of three and Hiromi’s room mate for the trip. She handled production and logistics so Hiromi and Hayate could write and shoot their articles on food history without worry. Despite her astounding efficiency with her work, Itsumi had a habit of being late.

“Itsumi is almost out. She’ll be here in a minute.” said Hiromi.

The three checked out of the small business hotel before going their separate ways for their last minute shopping. Hiromi wanted to window shop for shoes and cosmetics while Hayate set out to buy some omiyage for her family. Itsumi offered to accompany Hiromi on the condition they stop by for milk tea.

“Let’s meet outside of Time Square before 12 for lunch. I’m going to buy some jerky and maybe some dried goods. Do you guys want anything?” asked Hayate before they set off.

Hiromi declined. Itsumi asked for some jerky for her own omiyage.

As the two junior members of Hayate’s team entered Time Square, Itsumi noticed Hiromi was checking her phone again. She had been doing so whenever she could during the trip.

“Still no texts from Eita?” she asked Hiromi.

“Nope,” sighed Hiromi. Everything had been going smoothly just last week. She had been texting consistently with Eita. He even offered to call. She would send him photos of their first day in Hong Kong and he would eagerly reply.

Come the day before yesterday, he stopped replying all of a sudden. Hiromi had begun to worry that things had fallen apart without knowing why. Their last conversation was on Hong Kong protests. Eita fumed against the injustice, Hiromi agreed with him and nothing came after that. Maybe he joined the resistance?

“I don’t know what went wrong. I thought he liked me.” she moaned, “We have similar political views. Maybe I wasn’t enthusiastic enough when I replied to his call for justice or something.”

“Maybe you should just ask him about it.” Itsumi suggested, rolling her eyes.

“He ignored me for two days what else is there to say?”

“So why are you still looking at your phone?” Itsumi asked, with her brow raised at her co-worker, “Come, let’s go shopping to keep your mind off things.”

————————————————————————————

Hiromi and Itsumi had a penchant for hole in the wall restaurants. For their last meal, they asked to eat at a restaurant at the back of Time Square, nestled between narrow shopping alleyways. It was the first restaurant they ate in upon arrival and it would be their last meal too. They both ordered a bowl of wonton noodle soup and a serving of bok choy shared between the three of them. Hayate ordered chicken noodle soup for herself.

The restaurant was small and narrow, not to mention humid from all the steaming and the boiling from the kitchen. Although the lunchtime service was quick and brash, the two did not seem to mind. The girls were well-travelled and cosmopolitan. They were used to environments different from the quiet efficiency of Japan. Hayate found it chaotic but the team did not get many out of country assignments so she took what she could.

Hiromi in particular specialized in writing about Southeast Asian diasporic (meaning a scattered population whose origin lies in a separate geographic locale) cuisine. Noise hardly fazed her but apparently boy problems did.

“Hiromi, you looked so forlorn. Are you really that sad about leaving Hong Kong?” she joked. Hiromi’s focus in her work was second to none. Her tolerance to mediocre young men, less so.

“There’s a boy who hasn't been texting back…” trailed Itsumi.

Hayate didn’t pry, but the girls opened up to her for just about anything.

“Oh, hmmm don’t overthink it.” she said.

“It’s ok, I mean he’s smart and artistic and he knows my friends, but I guess I wasn’t interesting enough.” wailed Hiromi in between bites of her noodles.

“Honestly, if he can’t be bothered to speak with you clearly, he doesn’t deserve your time.” said Hayate, sipping her scorching hot red tea burning a bit of throat in the process. Her eyes grew wide as her throat grew numb.

“That’s true, besides I feel like you’re more worried about why he doesn’t like you than the actual relationship.” sighed Itsumi, mixing some soy sauce, chili oil and black vinegar for their wonton dip.

“Enough moping, let’s eat and talk about something else.” exhaled Hiromi, raising her hand to call for cold water for Hayate.

The topic shifted to work. They were excited about editing the photos. Hayate couldn’t wait to unpack but was a little sad about going back to the office again. Itsumi dreaded doing the liquidation and desk work for their Hong Kong trip. Hiromi was buzzing with ideas for their next assignment and was hoping to pitch recipe ideas to the cooking staff at their next meeting.

Just before boarding, a familiar figure caught Hiromi’s eye. A tall, tanned boy with a lean muscular physique stood a few rows in front of her. He was wearing a white shirt and black athleisure pants. Iwaizumi from college?

The three were seated separately on the plane. Hiromi was seated near the back while Hayate and Itsumi were on the second row. As she got to her seat, Hiromi was surprised to find Hajime Iawizumi beside her, blinking sleepily at the seat in front of him.

“Miura-san!” he said in incredulity realizing that his college friend was right beside him in his Hong Kong layover.

“Iwa! It is you! I thought I saw you while we boarded.” she said, shoving her carry on onto the storage, “Also, do you really have to be so formal?”

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“What are you doing in Hong Kong?” she asked simultaneously.

“I just finished my time in LA. I’m moving back to Japan. This is my last layover.” he yawned, popping a breath-mint into his mouth.

“I work as a food writer and researcher for a publication in Tokyo. My team and I are just finishing up our assignment in Hong Kong. We get out of country assignments from time to time. I’m still kind of new, but when I become a veteran I’m hoping to get more regular trips.”

“Cool! I’m moving to Tokyo next week because I got a gig training members of a Division 1 Volleyball League! This week, I’ll be home to do some laundry and just get things in order.” he said.

“If you need help moving or settling in let me know. I moved to Tokyo just last year.” she offered, “It was crazy.”

Iwaizumi nodded and thanked her for her offer. They continued catching up as the plane took off and soon the stewardess began handing out food.

“I’m so tired of plane food. It’s all I’ve eaten in the past twenty four hours,” he sighed.

“This has definitely got nothing on everything I’ve eaten so far” she exhaled, “I can’t wait to go home, even my own cooking is better than this. I got lots of new recipe ideas to try too.”

“I thought you said you were a writer. Do they make you cook at work too?” he inquired. It seemed like her job required an awful lot of skills for one position.

“I can cook to some capacity. I don’t really cook at work, it just helps if I know how.” she waved.

They ate in silence, chewing through the mediocre airline food.

“By the way, I need some boy advice. Do you have space to hear me out?” she inhaled, gathering her courage before she unloaded her questions on her friend.

“Sure? What about it?” he shrugged.

Hiromi opened up about her latest romance and its frustrations. She gave him a bit of background on who he was and how they started the relationship particularly the wishy washy feelings about their courtship.

“Do you really like this guy? You’re having more questions and doubts than answers. That’s not really a good sign. You can go ahead and be upfront but is this guy worth it?” he asked thoughtfully.

“I don’t know. I want to give it a chance but each time I think about him I get more confused and anxious.” she sighed, putting down her utensils. She bumped her head against the chair in front of her.

“He also hasn’t texted back in a few days without saying why.” she promptly added, looking to him. Iwa jerked back, his arms in a flurry.

“Scratch what I said. I don’t think the relationship is going to work. It’s not serious enough for him if he can’t at least let you know why he goes off the grid.”

Her face fell, shoulders sinking into her back.

“Sorry,” apologised Iwa, pausing to empathize with her.

“I kind of already know this and I guess I just hate uncertainty suspense. I don’t know why I feel so affected to hear it out loud.” she groaned, massaging her temples. Iwa was not good at hearing about boy problems. He didn’t really know what to say.

“Why’d you go for him anyway?” he asked, thoughtfully chewing some eggs and shifting in his seat. The seat was obviously a bit narrow for his shoulders. Hiromi moved a bit to her right to allow him more space.

Her poster straightened up while she plopped her elbows onto the table. She clasped her hands together and thought for a bit before turning to him, her eyes wide and a tad bit glassy.

“He just ticked the boxes you know? I knew him from college and we understand the other worlds we worked in. He’s smart, artistic and apparently he’s been crushing on me since freshman year or something like that. I wasn’t seeing anyone so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“But why are you adamant to make it work is what I mean?”

Hiromi shrugged her shoulders, “I can’t help but feel like it reflects on me. I feel like I’m not worthy enough when I can’t make a relationship work with someone who ticks the boxes.”

“I really hate dating and letting someone have this much control over my emotions though.” she growled at the chair in front of her.

Iwa had a small smile to himself, glad he was not in her place. She had always been the one better at giving advice when they were in uni together. He wished he could return the favor.

Before he got together with his college girlfriend, he was swimming in a lot of doubts about himself. It was difficult for him to speak about just anyone, but Hiromi was one of few who could coax the subject out of him.

“So how are you two getting on?” Hirom had asked him.

They were sitting together in the school cafeteria for lunch. Usually they sat with common friends and some classmates, but today they were alone which meant she could pry on Iwa’s love life. Even when Iwa wanted to talk about his girl problems, he had difficulty opening up. She saw it as her mission to initiate the conversation to help him out.

Iwa scratched the back of his head and sighed, “I don’t really know how I could be a better replacement for her ex. I’m not her first anything. I’m not any more good looking, or smarter or more athletic than he was. I’m not even nicer. I really don’t know if I’m worth the shot.”

His brow furrowed in concern. His lips were midway between a pout and a scowl.

She choked on her lunch. More often than not, it was Iwa encouraging other people and giving square judgement. Iwa was by no means arrogant, but he was also not self-deprecating. Hearing him speak about himself this so despondently was out of his character.

“Iwa, dating is not a competition!” she managed to say while pounding on her chest. Iwa handed her some water.

“I guess…” he mumbled.

After slugging down some water, Hiromi composed herself, “Yeah, her ex may have been great, but you’re great too! She likes you now which is why even if her ex is still in some of her friend circles she’d still rather date you.”

Iwa perked up a bit and smiled at his food.

“Just because you’re not her first doesn’t mean you can’t have a meaningful relationship right? What’s this obsession with being first? It’s not added value.” she said thoughtfully, putting her face between her hands as she leaned into her tray.

That lunch seemed so long ago. Who would’ve known that their next lunch after college would be a plane in between Hong Kong and Tokyo?

“Hey, are you still using the same email? Let’s keep in touch when we get back. I’m holding you by your promise to show me around.” he grinned, handing her his phone.

She continued sulking in half-hearted despair at the seat in front of her while she took his phone.

“Cheer up! I’m sure you’ll find someone in Tokyo.” he added, settling himself back into his chair looking at her.

-------------------------------------

Taglist: @scrappydaisies @itstheee-ha-chan

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfic #hq iwaizumi #hq writing #haikyuu fanfic #hq fic #hq fics #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x me #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic

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twixtandshout · 3 years ago

Text

Tagged by @pidgeonpostal! And not tagging anyone else because I have SOILED the original template (soiled it!!) in deference to my [brushes off skirt] mostly clean public-facing appearance.

...I’ve been making a lot of Spongebob memes lately for someone who has not seen Spongebob.

How many works do you have on AO3?

71!

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

...306,834. Jesus.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Uh. Many! I do a lot of one-offs (and/or start long things I never finish) in many different places. My top three fandoms by fics written are RWBY (29), Undertale (25), Gravity Falls/Transcendence AU (4).

Bet you can’t tell where my hyperfixations have fallen.

I’ve also got some Pokémon and Sonic the Hedgehog fics back on my ff.net account, or I think I still do, anyway, but let’s never go back there pls

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Sweeter Than Honey (Undertale): Taking a Completely unsurprising first place, with over 600 more kudos than the runner-up, the haphazard Underswap fic featuring a post-college self-insert I wrote just after high school! I shake my head some at how overblown and ridiculous the gap between this and all my other stuff is (c’mon, guys, I’ve written way better fics), but this is also the fic which prompted me (and at least one other person!) to start using they/them pronouns. I’ve gotten a lot of really sweet comments about how seen and appreciated it’s made people feel, so I can’t get down too far about it.

2. To Be A Hero (BNHA): I don’t count myself as part of the BNHA fandom, for a number of reasons, but for something that’s arguably the main motivation for the entire plot, Midoriya’s quirklessness is something I’ve never thought has been handled well. This fic marked the first time I (somewhat tentatively) claimed the disability label (thanks again to Sweeter Than for prompting that realization) to hold that lens over canon. It also really shot up my chart, dang! It’s the only thing here I’d consider “recent.”

3. Three-Sentence Shipping (Undertale): Self-explanatory.

4. Brothers Beyond Bonedaries (Undertale): Ah, the way-overcomplicated AU³ I got nowhere close to finishing. One of the things I really like about Undertale is the interface screw, how Toby Fox uses the medium of the video game to pull off crazy things and enhance his game, but most of the fic written for the fandom seems dedicated to explaining it away, grounding it, rather than taking it to the next step and messing with the medium of fanfiction when you keep the story going. I tried to do something cool like that here, playing with questions like narrator and authorship and breaking the fourth wall, even taking the “final boss” fight to a “totally separate” fic reached through the first by link – but, well, then I never finished it, which probably didn’t make anything less confusing for the poor folks who missed the intent.

5. Spirit and Such (Gravity Falls: Transcendence AU): A whole fic written to line out a particular image I had, which, naturally, never made it to the page. I consider it a bit of a cautionary tale for myself when it comes to writing (near-)original content; there’s a lot I look back on and cringe. I still love the characters, though – well, the important ones – and I think just stepping away from the tried-and-true Mizar formula nets it a star sticker here.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

>w>; I try, but a lot of the time I just don’t have anything to say? Like, oh, you liked it? Neat. There’s not much to respond to in comments like that, and then I’m weighing falling down on an ~obligation~ to respond to every message in my inbox vs annoying people with copy-paste fluff responses all down the page. Plus I know I make more of an effort to comment on things that didn’t get the attention I feel they deserve, so if I’m driving up my own comment count with nonsense, am I preventing myself from being in a position to receive more comments later? And then if I do comment, am I being too effusive or running people’s ears off explaining things they don’t actually need to know? Sometimes people just want to express interest or admiration and don’t necessarily want a whole peek and guided tour behind the curtain.

Can you tell I have anxiety? x3;

Anyway, I do respond when I can. And I keep most of the comments I’ve gotten to go back and reread.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm, hmm. Lots of stuff in the TQ Nonsense series would probably qualify! I’m thinking of Unfixable, Wolfsong, and Ethanol. And there’s Bursting Through A Blood-Red Sky (I Can Live, I Can Breathe), of course, but that was always intended to have a fix-it epilogue. It’s just that I wrote it in a couple of hours day-of, stared at it, and decided I didn’t wanna just then. But now that’s As Long As You’re Still Burning Bright (I’m Still Awake), and that’s probably the best romance I’ve written, so that one worked out.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Now and then! When the urge strikes. Uhhh, I’ve got a series of Doctor Who x Undertale crossovers I actually made a whole dang verse for that never made it to print. Get a couple great comments on that every few months or so. I think the World Trigger x Undertale crossover is probably weirder, though, by virtue of WT being a very small fandom. My enthusiasm kinda sputtered out on that one.

Mostly I just daydream crossovers with whatever happens to catch my eye at any given moment. I have a lot!!!! Though odds are out on whether I manage to remember any of them once the initial thought’s passed, lol.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Gotten a couple eyebrow-raising comments, but I think mostly I’m just too small a writer to draw that kind of attention.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t? think so? Think my tastes are a little niche for most people to bother ^^;

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had someone apologize once for any language mistakes in their comment cause they had to run it through a translator! That’s not what you asked (the answer is no), but it’s very flattering to think that someone liked my fic enough to read and comment despite the language barrier.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! :D @pidgeonpostal was gracious enough to agree to co-write Five Nights at Denny’s with me off an idea about shoes. This has fulfilled a long-held dream of mine (collabing with someone, not the shoes) and also introduced me to some lovely people.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Who has time for just one? ;3c Honestly, I care more about the characters and how the relationship – any relationship – between them changes them than I do about ~A Ship~ as a solid, bounded noun-object. I’ve got characters I like more and less and feelings about who does and doesn’t have chemistry in which directions with whom, but finding anything that agrees with those preferences is hard, harder when you take alloromanticism into account. I’ll play in any sandbox with cool toys, especially if other folks have already built sick sandcastles there.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

[kicks every single unfinished fic further under the bed] What nooo no WIPs here, everything on my account is either finished or does not exist

I’ve got a couple extra chapters of Sweeter Than floating around unposted, but 1. that fic’s a mess 2. high school Twixt and post-college Twixt are different people and trying to contort myself into three other me-shapes just cause people Like this fic is not something I’m super interested in 3. it’s headed for an emotional dip and I’d rather leave it where it is than post two chapters, stall out again, and leave folks with a bad end.

As for other fics... it’s looking more and more likely that v7 of my Yellow Brick Road AU will never actually make it out. >w>; I’ve got some really great ideas, but not enough to make me feel like I know what I’m doing, and that’s a big roadblock. Plus trying to engage with RT’s Atlas-Mantle worldbuilding in any serious capacity is... a headache. I can’t recommend the Happy Huntress Cinematic Universe enough, but it leaves some pretty big shoes to follow! And I’ve got small feet. <w<;

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue’s fun, probably as an extension of characterization. I love tearing into what makes people tick, especially against the backdrop of their environment, the story they’re in, and the people they’re up against. Voice is a double-edged sword; I’ve been told my writing is really recognizable and individual, but on the other hand, I’ve been growing frustrated with with the limits of my narrative ability. There’s a strong rhythm I keep when I write (you might notice it here, even) but that leaves me feeling predictable and stale. I’m not sure I’m great at setting as a matter of course, but I’m pretty good at describing setpieces where the need comes up; that comes from my background in poetry, as does the fun I have with sublimating and abstracting complex imagery. And I think I bring some needed nuance to the universal. For good or ill, I don’t do what “everyone else” is doing.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Well, writing, for one thing. If I don’t know how something’s going to go and don’t have the urge to write it, it isn’t getting done, which means there’s a billion things that will never see the page and a few hundred more that are never getting finished. I lose momentum easily and have a hard time getting started, and I put way too much standing on finding a foothold with other people; as critical as I am of my work, I have high expectations for the stuff that passes muster, and it never seems to measure up. I’m also really uncreative. Yeah, I can mix up elements and extrapolate events, but coming up with things wholesale is really hard, which is why I avoid it wherever possible and steal/reskin stuff from other places instead.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Something along the lines of “Hoo boy, I am Not qualified for this but hopefully it’s decent anyway.” Maria’s Spanish lines haven’t been a big deal – I’ve used it sparingly and, as a Latin language, it should be easy for English-speaking audiences to pick up on the gist – but I’ve had a harder time with Tai’s Chinese, both because I have Even Less background there and because it is, of course, an entirely different language system. If I write it out in English or Romanized italics, am I colonizing it or changing the meaning? If I write it out in the presumed-original characters (presumed because it’s Google Translate and who knows if I’m even barking in the right forest), am I confusing or alienating my presumed-majority-English-speaking audience? Where should I put the translations? Should I put the translations? And for Frisk’s sign language, thinking back, are the brackets I used instead of quotes alienating/infantilizing? I like that different characters give the text between a different feel, but I’m not an ASL speaker – and I’m pretty sure the word is “speaker,” which would only reinforce that that demographic would rather I didn’t do that. It’s important for all these characters, I think, that they use non-English language where it makes sense; it’s part of who they are. But as a white monolingual English-speaker, I don’t think I can really weigh in.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Thaaaat’d be Pokémon, followed closely with Sonic the Hedgehog. Whether those fics are still on my ff.net account or not (pretty sure I’ve purged them, but you never know) I’ve still got a couple saved to a folder on my current laptop, ostensibly so I can look back and see how far I’ve come and more practically to allow for the possibility of furthering group cohesion through public shaming.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I still like the idea behind The Man Who Is Atlas, and Burning Bright (Still Awake) gets props for being my current fic, though it’s currently in that spot where I’m excited to get new chapters posted but also quietly marking everything up in red pen. I think Harbinger gets the crown here, at least for now.

#answerin' stuff

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painandpleasure86 · 4 years ago

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Pull yourself together

A/N: Hi people! I was missing to post a fic here. It was based in an own experience about my own capability to write fics.

You can also find this fic in AO3, here.

Summary: John don't feel capable to write songs. Freddie tries to encourage him to continue writing.

Pairing: this is a Gen fic! No pairing.

Warning: Angst, some swearing.

Word count: 1359

Permanent taglist: @warriorteam1924 @toomuchlove-willkillyou @deakysgurl (if you want to be in the taglist, just tell me in the comments or send me an ask :3)

He did not feel he was capable enough. But, on the outside, he was determined, unwavering, impenetrable. Many times he wanted to start writing, because he was mentalized and determined, but nothing came to his mind. He felt the demand that he not only had to write something, but also something that could be adjusted to the standards of the band. He saw Brian and Freddie writing without any problems, and he was facing a blank sheet of paper, with nothing "good" in mind. Or maybe he thought it wasn't a good thing, because, thanks to the demands, he set the bar too high and was too self-critical, too hard on himself.

At that time they were preparing News of the World.

While in the recording studio, the conversation came out.

-Hey John, we're waiting for your contribution for the album. How are you doing? - Brian asks -I'm on it, Bri, you know how I am with that, he -laughs falsely.

-If you need help, tell us- adds Freddie.

-I can handle it myself, don't worry. Thanks for offering, though, guys.

Neither Freddie nor Roger were too convinced.

-Hey, and nobody asks me? -says Roger to ease the tension he felt in his friend.

-Because you told us you had Sheer Heart Attack- said Brian.

-I have one more surprise- he pointed out, winking

-Are you going to make a song about your cat, Roger? -asks Freddie, playing along.

-The cat lover is another one -answers Roger, pointing to Freddie.

-Ah, you got me, darling, I don't know how you guessed it! -adds Freddie.

John smiles. Goal accomplished for Freddie and Roger.

----------------------------------------------

That night, when he was able to be alone in his room, he began to cry and to rant aloud

-Why the fuck don't things work out for me? I don't really know why I try to write songs, if they're not even that good... While Brian and Freddie's songs are singles, two of the three I've written are a fiasco. I'm not good at writing, it's really better that they don't have "my contribution". Oh Brian, saying it so lightly... HA! If you spend all your fucking time reading literature and things come to mind. It's a joke that someone with more capabilities has songs next to my shitty stuff. I'm sick of all these requirements. I'm tired of the responsibility. I hate myself for agreeing to start writing songs in the first place... ha, things come naturally to Freddie. I just barely have three songs, why can't we fucking accept that I'm not good at songwriting? I don't have the lyrical skills. I can write music, but lyrics? Ah no, that has to be left to the other two. At least I'm not the only one who "contributes just a little", but I don't have to feel comfortable or proud of that either... I'm fed up with this - he shouted, throwing away things that were within his reach and throwing himself into his bed to continue crying for a few moments.

Minutes later, he wipes away his tears and grabs a pencil and paper that were on his bedside table. He has something to write on.

Pull yourself together, because you know you should do better.

What he wrote was more of a self-message than anything else. That phrase came into his head and he had to turn it over so he wouldn't forget. "Maybe I'll think of something related to that later". When he put the notebook back in its place, he heard a knock on the door. It was Freddie.

-Now can I come in, John?

-Yes, I'll let you in. John opens the door to his room and lets the singer in. Then they both sit at the foot of the bed, side by side.

-I heard everything, honey.

-Ah? -asked John, pretending not to notice.

-All you said.

-I'm sorry, I...

-Don't apologize, honey. These things happen. I understand your frustration.

-Ah Fred, don't pretend to understand me.

-Hey, I'm not always inspired.

-Following that criteria, i'll never be inspired.

-Don't say such a stupid thing, John- said Freddie.

- You've already proved that you can write great hits.

-Only one of my songs came out as a single, I don't know what you're talking about Freddie. It's easy to talk when you write Bohemian Rhapsody. My songs are shit besides to that song.

-John, how many times have we talked about it? You're just slower, but that doesn't mean you're bad.

-What if I am?

-You really aren't. I see great potential. You just have to stop comparing yourself to me and Brian.

-It's impossible to tell the truth... you two write masterpieces... All people love your songs.

-People love You're my best friend...

-Yes, because it's the only good thing I've written so far.

-You are good John, I don't know how to tell you anymore.

-Stop saying it then and assume that you were wrong about me.

-Okay, I think you're still hysterical. I'll leave you to rest.

Freddie leaves and John remains pensive. More phrases have come to his mind, he writes them down.

You said me six and you passed past seven. I believed you, bent on my knees for you. Oh, I trusted you, but you let me down.

"They don't make sense, but well... inspo it's inspo" he thought.

After a much-needed bath to relax body and mind, he went to bed.

-Perhaps Freddie is right. What if I'm writing the band's next hit? Now, more calmly, he was convincing himself of Freddie's words. A part of his mind didn't like this at all and wanted to boycott him with pessimistic thoughts.

-Ah... enough! No. I'm not going to let you pass. Get the fuck out. Let me sleep in peace. -he said aloud with his eyes closed.

To sleep in peace, he took a deep breath and imagined himself far from his hotel room, being anywhere, but happy and free. When he least expected it, he fell asleep.

The next day he woke up much more relaxed. Getting dressed, thinking about the dream he had, a few phrases came to his mind

He spends his evenings alone in his hotel room, wishing he was miles and miles away...

Read the note book and see that Freddie was right. He smiled.

-----------------------

Back in the studio for another day of recording, John enters with his notebook and pencil.

-Looks like someone came ready to write today- Brian said, smiling.

John approaches his colleagues and shows them his notebook from afar.

-I've been ready since last night- he walks up to Freddie and hugs him.

-With you, always- Freddie said in his ear, tapping him on the shoulder.

Freddie left the embrace, but Roger takes advantage and hug John.

-I knew Freddie would help you- he said in John's ear.

-W-what?

-You're our brother Deaky, how could we not know?

Brian kept looking at the scene trying to understand what was happening, until he finally got it. "Now I understand everything".

Roger and John left the embrace, because John wanted to say something to Brian.

-I think I have not one contribution, but two- John said.

-But that's great-answered Brian, patting him on the shoulder-. This is the first time you've brought two songs!

-We have to celebrate- says Roger, winking an eye.

-It's 10 am, wait a little for the alcohol- says Freddie.

-But look who's talking, Mr. Champagne

-Without any shame, darling.

John and Brian laughed at the scene.

------------------------------------------

Months later, one of those songs would be a single for which they would record a video clip. Preparing for this, John started to think "Freddie was right, I have the capacity and my songs matter too... Look if they matter that one will have a video clip... Although, I don't know if the chosen set was the best choice. It was winter and they were outside, his hands were beginning to feel it; but he was happy that they were recording the video clip. Also because, from that day on, they were representing themselves. They had spread their wings and flown away from John Reid.

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Thanks for reading this. If you enjoyed it, please reblog this. It counts A LOT!!!

Cheers, Lily

#painandpleasure86 writes #painandpleasure86 fics #queen fic #john deacon #freddie mercury #roger taylor #roger meddows taylor #brian may #70s deaky #deaky #deacy #spread your wings #who needs you #news of the world #angst with a happy ending #queen angst #angst #friendship

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the-writers-fandom · 5 years ago

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Obey Me Fic: No Matter How Much Time Passes

Here’s the first half of a fic I wrote, “No Matter How Much Time Passes.” It’s 3.6k words, and can be read as a standalone fic. The second half will be coming out 6 PM 4/18, CT. It will be released 3 hours later on my AO3 account, CrazyEyebrows I hope you like it!

The boys finally decide to visit MC in the human world. The only issue is that it's been 60 years, and MC isn't doing their very best.

Mammon can't handle what's going on, but he stays strong through it all.

Mammon stared at his reflection. Hair? Perfectly styled. Outfit? An amazing choice, a black leather jacket with a simple white T-shirt underneath. Freshly showered with one of Asmodeus' manicures to match.

So why did he feel like garbage?

Every time he thought about seeing the human- his human- again, it made his stomach twist into knots. He hadn't eaten dinner last night, and didn't think he could stomach breakfast today either.

It had felt like a thousand years since he'd last seen the human, when in reality it had only been 60 or so. Mammon still looked exactly the same, with maybe a bit more of a gut, if anything. He noted that he really should start working out like Beelzebub, and not rely on running away from his problems as a form of exercise.

He stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door behind himself quickly. He had managed not to change his entire outfit and restyle his hair for the 30th time, and decided that this was it. This is how he'd look when he met eyes with the love of his life again for the first time in sixty years and Oh god maybe I should wear something el-

"Mammon! Hurry up, Lucifer won't wait for your sorry ass forever!" The sound of Levi pounding on Mammon's bedroom door brought him out of his stupor.

"Right! Coming!" He hadn't the mental capacity to argue anymore, and simply agreed. He then opened the door, taking a deep breath and faking his usual cocky grin.

"Thank you, my lady in waiting." As Mammon walked away, he heard Leviathan sputter and yell about how he's going to kill Mammon. Mammon ignored this in favor of going down the hall and the grand entryway stairs to meet with the rest of his brothers. They all looked equally nervous, beside maybe Satan and Lucifer, who'd found ways to hide their intense emotions long before the human entered their lives.

"That's everyone, then. Let's get going." Lucifer popped a small top hat onto his head and opened the doors. He pushed each of his brothers out before him, and before Mammon could go through, stopped him.

"I want to talk to you." Then, pushed him out the door and followed behind. Belphegor led the group now, sitting up on Beelzebub's back and giving tired directions. Mammon gulped, walking slow so they wouldn't be heard.

"What is it Lucifer? Can'tcha see how excited I am?" He smiled and laughed a bit, to which Lucifer sighed.

"Yes, of course. What I wanted to say, Mammon... You know how fast human's age, correct? Much faster than either of us, or any witch or sorcerer." Mammon had expected something like this and rolled his eyes.

"Course I know, Lucifer. It's like how dogs age."

"You know that they will be very different than you remember-"

"Yes Lucifer, I know. I know that they'll be weird lookin' with more wrinkles and weird scars and ex boy or girlfriends and I know that they might not remember us but that doesn't matter. Because they will."

"You have a lot of faith in an 80 year old human."

"80's like, nothing."

"Yes, for an immortal councilman of the demon world. For a human, it's... 80 is nearing the end of their lifespan. They may not have much time left."

"Then they can come visit us when they're back in the Devildom."

"You know their soul is too polished to be a demon, in limbo, or otherwise. Surely they'd become a celestial being."

"Then... Maybe they can join the program again and-"

"Mammon. We're almost there. I just wanted to let you know that this may be your last chance to say anything you need to say, alright?"

That really helped the knots in Mammon's stomach, making them tighter and making him nauseated. Mammon frowned, coming upon the portal spot. Each of his brothers stood there, waiting for Lucifer to open the portal to the human world.

And then he did.

Mammon winced at the great big light, forgetting how blinding this whole ordeal was. He stepped in, and found himself somewhere unrecognizable.

"Wait, where are we, Lucifer?" Satan asked for him.

"We're in America."

"This doesn't look like anywhere in America I've ever been." Belphegor frowns, seeing the small houses lined in rows. They were all individual, a story each to its own.

"Because you went to New York, and LA, and Orlando, this is just some small town in the Midwest. Of course it looks nothing like you're used to. C'mon, let's go." Lucifer started walking, staring down at his D.D.D. Mammon assumed there might be directions on it, and he found he was right when a small voice emitted from it,

"Turn right in 200 feet."

"What a weird way to measure distance. What kind of feet? Human's?" Beelzebub asked aloud, and nobody answered. They were all quiet as they came upon the small nursing home, taking in the look of the outside.

“This is it. Now, all of you, stay quiet until we get to them. I’m using a fake alias, as these humans may realistically die hearing that my name is Lucifer.” The boys just nodded, everyone nervous and not wanting to show it. Lucifer headed in first, taking his hat off.

“Hello, my name is John. I’m here to see MC.” Lucifer smiled sweetly at the woman at the counter.

“Sure, you called earlier, right? Follow me.” She got up and started walking towards the back of the large room. Mammon looked around, seeing many older people doing various activities. Watching TV, playing checkers, knitting. He had expected them to be old, but hadn’t really internalized that they’d be this old.

“Now I do have to warn you, this specific patient has Alzheimers and isn’t lucid very often. In fact, the last time their children were here, they had to recollect of even being married.” They’re married? Oh. Mammon didn’t expect that to be what hurt him the most out of all of that. “But maybe you could help out. We’ve been hearing some… strange names from them that’s been alarming the other patients here.”

“Names? Like what?” Lucifer asked politely.

“Some pretty strange ones. I remember… Levi? And a couple different words for the devil, just off the top of my head. Nobody can tell who they’re trying to talk about.” “W-Was Mammon one?” Mammon spoke up sheepishly. The lady hummed and shook her head,

“No, I don’t think so. But I’m not here all the time, so, maybe. Anyway, here you are. MC? Hey, you have a few visitors today.” “No thank you Lucifer, I’m trying to study.” The patient spoke without looking up from the desk, doodling and scribbling on a piece of paper. Lucifer was slightly startled, hand resting on his chest now.

“That’s uhm- ahem- that’s what they would know m-”

“Lucifer? I said no thank you.” Mammon watched as MC turned around, and everything seemed to hit in slow motion. Their hands were shaking, they looked brittle. Mammon feared even the slightest touch might make them crumble underneath him. He sucked in a breath, and then, they caught eyes. MC gazed into Mammon’s eyes and, for a split second, they seemed to get insanely excited.

“Chistopher?” They asked, and suddenly Mammon’s entire world broke down around him. He started to cry, shaking his head. Beelzebub put an arm around him while the nurse spoke,

“No, Darling. Chistopher can’t visit today. Very sorry about that, they’ve been asking about their husband a lot. He hasn’t visited in months. I think he knows… Ahem. Anyhow, I’ll leave you all to it. I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do. Just try not to get frustrated.” She smiles and goes back to her post. Leviathan goes to sit next to them.

“Hey, MC. How’ve you been?”

“Well, if I could finish this task, maybe I could get some sleep. Levi-chan wants to binge a new anime tonight, so I have to nap before then. I haven’t seen him in so long, he’s been locked up in his room. Isn’t that terrible? Ignoring his true friend. True friend… what a friend he is…” They mumbled and mumbled while Mammon watched tears gather in Levi’s eyes.

“I… I’m sure he wishes he could’ve seen you more, even if you are a normie.” MC then laughed loudly, startling all of them. It was an intense, deep throated laugh.

“That’s exactly what he’ll say, too. I know it.” Asmodeus pushed his way next to them.

“Oh Darling, you skin! Your beautiful skin! Next time I see you, we must do a regimen together. I know just what will help.” “Oh, thank you Anne, but no thank you. I’ve gone natural, can’t you tell?” MC laughed again and ran their hand through the little amount of hair left on their head. “Trust me, I’m loving it. It feels so good not to worry about how I look, I know he’ll love me just the same.” Asmodeus frowned, but then smiled meekly.

“I… guess you found someone very special then, didn’t you?” He asked quietly, and Mammon’s lip trembled again. “I did… I think I might marry him. So sweet. I can’t believe I met him during an exchange program. I really should write a letter.” Leviathan pulled Asmo away, who was sniffling sadly. They both stepped outside to get some air.

For a moment, nobody moved. Then, Belphegor did.

“Do you remember me?” He asked, and Lucifer interjected,

“Belphie, really-”

“Of course I do. Who do you think I am? I made a pact with… a pact with…” Their eyes glazed over, not remembering quite what they were going to say. Instead, they smiled, “Would you like to order?” Belphegor’s brows furrowed at the sudden change, and Lucifer sighed.

“They’re not at all lucid. They’re probably remembering something or another. Please, all of you, I told you not to get your hopes up.”

“That’s rich, coming from you, Lucifer.” MC stood, and Belphegor helped them, barely touching them as he tried not to hurt them in any way. “Really, I’m not that stupid.” They moved over to Lucifer, who dropped his hand. As if in shock, he couldn’t move, just stared at them. MC took Lucifer's hands in their own, and started swaying gently. Lucifer just slightly reciprocated the dance. He recognized the way they moved to a beat in their head, and remembered dancing like this all those years ago.

Mammon couldn’t watch. He knew he had to wait, it wasn’t his turn yet. They hadn’t tried to talk to him yet. He wasn’t sure he could even say anything if they did.

“Where’s Solomon? We were supposed to have tea tonight.” That made Mammon almost angry, why did his human seemingly remember everyone else, except him? Had they really hated him that much without saying so? As quickly as it started, their dance ended, and MC stared at the other three brothers. Mammon watched as they tried to work it out in their head.

“I told you, I won’t do any more pranks on Lucifer. He might skin me, if I do. We all got off easy last time.” They crossed their arms, frowning. “And trust me, if I get skinned I’m using that pact of ours and I’ll have you skin yourself alongside me.” Satan smiled sadly.

“Yes, of course MC. Though, I think it would be fun to pull one final prank.” MC seemed to think it over, and Lucifer stood over them from behind. “MC. ” He said, and they shrieked. They shrieked, and then laughed, stumbling forward.

“Lucifer! I-I didn’t see you there!” Satan made sure they stayed upright, laughing heartily. Beelzebub put his hand on Satan’s shoulder, and so he moved away. MC turned back to face them.

“Oh, oh, oh. Is this your little boy, Anne? He looks just like a friend of mine. Don’t tell me you cheated on Anthony, did you? Look at that hair, you’ve grown so tall since I last saw you.” MC finally recognized Beel, and now only Mammon was left. Beel laughed while they doted over him, hugging him and kissing his cheek. Mammon could only find himself jealous. They sighed into Beel’s arms for a moment.

“Okay, thank you Lucifer, you may all leave now. I have somewhere very important to be tonight. Except you.” MC pulled away from Beel and stared directly into Mammon’s eyes. “We have a lot to talk about.” Mammon gulped, and pulled a chair over next to MC’s. Beel helped her sit back down.

“Beel, Satan, Belphie, let’s go check on the others. We will have plenty of time later to stay.” Belphegor looked hesitant, but they all eventually agreed and walked out. Mammon stared at MC, waiting for them to say something first. They took his hands in theirs.

“Did I tease you well enough?” Mammon wasn’t sure at all what they were saying, and his face promptly expressed so. They sighed. “I… I remember you.” A moment of clarity, Mammon decided, and he smiled.

“I remember you too. It’s been so long.”

“It has. Please, make yourself at home. Christopher and the kids will be here any minute.” Mammon frowned.

“You have kids?”

“Things change in twenty years, Mammoney. I missed you. But I moved on. I’m happy now.” Twenty? So, maybe not full clarity. Mammon could work with that.

“I… I’m glad. It’s not like I’d be jealous of some human.” MC smiled and pressed a kiss to Mammon’s hand.

“Why didn’t you visit me?” They asked out of the blue, and Mammon sputtered. He didn’t have an answer. He knew anything he said wouldn’t be a good enough reason. “Mammon, tell me. My heart ached so badly for you. I need to know.”

“I… I was scared.” He admitted, head hanging low. He leaned closer towards MC, and found that they smelled entirely different. He didn’t like that, at all.

“Of me?”

“Of change.”

A long pause went over the both of them. Mammon slowly looked up, making sure that they hadn’t fallen asleep. They hadn’t, but what he found was even worse.

Tears streamed down their face silently. They were staring at Mammon, a frown pulling at their lips. He wished he could take back all of the missed years. He knew it was too late to do anything about it, and so even through his cowardliness, held their hands strongly.

"Mammon.” They wiped the tears from their face. “I need your help.” He was confused, but nodded.

“Anything.”

“I’m going somewhere special tonight. I want you to be there. I want you all to be there. So meet me there. I need to find something special to wear…”

“Where is it?” He asked, confused as ever. He feels as though there hasn’t been a moment of clarity for him this entire time. MC smiled and stood up slowly.

“I’m coming home. I need a welcome home party. And a pretty dress, or outfit.” They dragged Mammon away from the desk and towards a hallway of rooms. He grimaced at the hospital like setting, but put those feelings aside as they entered a room. MC closed the door behind them.

“Please, can you find me something to wear?” They sat down and gestured to the closet. Mammon nodded and moved towards the closet.

After a few minutes of looking through the small closet, he came across a pretty jumpsuit. It was a dark navy color, and he smiled at the thought of his human wearing it. He sat next to MC on the bed.

“How about this?” MC felt the material, hands brushing over his slightly. He couldn’t help the grin that formed alongside MC’s.

“Oh, perfect. Do help me put it on.”

And so he did, careful as not to hurt them when he helped slip the outfit on. MC’s large smile never once faltered, and once it was on, Mammon’s breath hitched.

“All these years, and I still make The Great Mammon falter?” MC laughed and looked themself over in the mirror. Mammon stood behind them, blush evident.

“I don’t age like you do.” He whispered, hand on their shoulder. “These feelings are still new for me.” He hummed. “You need one more thing.” MC turned to look at him, confused.

“Yes?” They asked quietly, just barely above a whisper. Mammon wordlessly took off his leather jacket, and helped slide them into it. They looked back into the mirror.

“Oh, That’s perfect. Thank you, Mammon.” They laid a gentle kiss on his cheek, before laying back in bed.

“I thought you were going home? What are you laying in bed for?”

“Finally, there you are. What are you doing in their room without us, Darling?” Asmodeus’ voice suddenly rang through as the door opened.

“Asmo.” The human smiled again, and Asmodeus looks as though he was just shot. He ran to their side.

“Hello! Hi dear, you remember me.” “Of course I do.” “Guys, they’re in here.” Beelzebub walked into the room, and suddenly all of the brothers were around the bed. Mammon took their hand in his own.

“Oh good, you’re all here. How do I look?”

“Magnificent.” Lucifer answered. MC closed their eyes.

“Thank you. I’ll see you at the party.” MC said finally, and the brothers all looked confused.

“Party?” Belphegor asked, to which he got no response. Mammon started shaking.

“MC? What party? Where should we go?” Satan asked as well, with still no response.

“Boys.” Lucifer said sadly, “Come on now, say your goodbyes. It’s time to leave.”

“But we hardly got to talk to them!” Levi nearly shouted, almost angry. He looked down, staring at the person laying in bed. “That’s not fair! I want to talk to them more!” His eyes welled up in tears, and Mammon stood up.

“C’mon Levi. It’s time to go.” Mammon tried pulling Levi away, and he only got an elbow in his side as a response.

“No! I don’t want to! It’s not time yet, I want to talk more!” He sobbed now, standing next to MC. Mammon was about to angrily pull him away again, but Lucifer stopped him.

“Let him have his time, Mammon. We’ll all need it. Come now, let’s get going.”

Mammon and Lucifer walked out into the hall, letting the other brothers say their goodbyes. Mammon then moved then further, outside, so he could light a cigarette.

“You know those are mostly illegal now, Mammon.” “I don’t care. I need one.” he held it shakily to his lips, and inhaled the smoke. Lucifer nodded. “I understand. Did you have a nice time with MC?” He asked, and Mammon stared at the ground.

“They… They kept sayin’ somethin’ about a coming home party they had to go to. Kept sayin’ that they wanted us there. What do you think that means, Lucifer?” Mammon looked up at his older brother and frowned. Lucifer tossed the idea over in his head a few times.

“I think… I think that just means they weren’t lucid, Mammon. Nobody is, that close. I’d take it with a grain of salt.” Mammon sighed.

“Yeah, I guess.”

After probably an hour of standing around, the brothers all came out one by one. They alerted the nurses of what happened, and took their leave. The long trudge home was quiet, and sickeningly sad for all of them. Asmodeus clung to Satan, sniffles being the only sound they all heard. Belphie was on Beelzebubs back again, this time taking the back of their line. He fell asleep shortly after leaving, and Beelzebub made sure to keep him safe. Mammon, Levi, and Lucifer all walked together. Levi with his headphones on likely blaring music, Lucifer with his D.D.D in his hands, staring at directions, and Mammon with nothing to distract himself but the gentle breeze against his face and the sun in the sky. Eventually they made it back to the portal, and then back home, none of them saying a word.

About a week carried on like this, the brothers stumbling around, all mostly quiet and not wanting to disturb each other. They were all carrying the grief of their beloved friend and none of them wanted to talk about it.

That is, until Barbatos appeared at the front door, knocking loudly over and over and over until finally Lucifer came and answered it.

“Barbatos, it’s two in the morning. Can this matter not wait?” “It’s extremely urgent, sir.” Barbatos was straight faced, but Lucifer was scared of what may have happened.

“Alright, let’s go then.” “You need to collect your brothers and make our way to the student council office. There’s an important matter to discuss with Lord Diavolo. That’s all I can say now. Rush yourself.” Lucifer was worried, but nodded.

With major struggle, Lucifer got his brothers up and they made their way quickly to RAD. The brothers seemed to finally be settling into some form of normalcy, a bit of tired quipping between the six of them. Eventually, they all made their way to their chair, waiting for Diavolo. They all shifted and spoke among themselves uncomfortably, Belphegor nodding off again. Diavolo stepped in slowly, grin across his face.

“Hello, all. It’s good to see you.” “What’s this about, Lord Diavolo.” Lucifer asked, arms crossed. Diavolo frowned.

“Why, you don’t look excited at all. We’re celebrating tonight.”

“What for?” Mammon asked, confused and almost concerned. Knots formed in his stomach again. Diavolo crossed his arms.

“A coming home party.”

#diavolo #lucifer #mammon #mammon obey me #mammon x mc #leviathan #levichan #satan #asmodeus #Beelzebub #Belphegor #barbatos #obey me shall we date #fluff #angst

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fireflysummers · 6 years ago

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Just Fiction (and When It’s Not)

I’ve been tying myself in mental knots for the last while about the “It’s Just Fiction” argument. At this point I’ve heard a lot from both sides that’s actually pretty valid, leading to a lot of general confusion.

The conclusion that I’ve come to, though, is that “It’s Just Fiction” is not a universal defense, and its meaning shifts drastically when it’s shifted out of the originally intended lens.

I propose that there are three lenses through which the “It’s Just Fiction” argument can be viewed: in-universe, authorial intent, and public interpretation.

Before jumping into the analysis, I should note that there are a few assumptions here:

The fiction in question is actually fiction, and does not resemble any real life persons, living or dead in an identifiable capacity. Therefore, things like the Ted Bundy Case Files are immediately disqualified.

We are assuming innocence until proven guilty.

The In-Universe Lens

The “It’s Just Fiction” defense is most often applied to in-universe logic, and is related to the suspension of disbelief--the mechanism by which we can ignore our comparisons to the real world and immerse ourselves in a fantasy.

When you say "It's Just Fiction" about in-universe logic, it understands very clearly that fiction is fake, and that the characters and events do not exist in the real world. It may echo real life, and real people might to replicate it, but no matter how dark or gross or fluffy or fantastical the content, no matter how gritty and “realistic” it is, it is not real.

Arguing that "It’s Just Fiction" is basically stating that you understand how to separate reality from fantasy, and treat characters and in-canon logic as the mechanisms by which an interesting story is told. While they may feel real, especially if you have a special connection with them, they fundamentally are not.

As a result, content creators are generally allowed to use it as space to explore taboo topics and search for relationships and meaning in places that no sane person would enact in real life.

However, this is not free reign to create whatever you want, and expect no consequences, as we will get to in our next point.

Authorial Intent

As stated earlier, the general assumption here is that the content creator did not intentionally have ill will towards anybody. Unfortunately, there have been too many case where this has proven to be bad faith. As a result, how to approach this aspect of the “It’s Just Fiction” argument is very difficult and controversial, because sometimes it is very difficult to “prove,” especially since the creative process is often multi-faceted as content creators draw from multiple inspirational and motivational sources.

Oftentimes, content creators are young, ignorant, and lacking self-awareness. This leads to them not knowing how to take critique, especially if they are approached in a harsh, critical manner, and generally only alienates them in a way that stifles their desire to learn and grow naturally. It is generally not your job to educate strangers on the internet, either, since there are often trolls who disguise actual ill intent as ignorance.

The most surefire way to address this is to curate your own internet experience by blocking liberally those whose content you do not wish to see.

There is another case, though, that needs to be discussed: that of predatory content creators. These people usually straddle the line between “a distasteful lack of mindfulness” and “preying on vulnerable populations.”

Accusations of ped/o/phil/ia against any individual are serious, and in process you have to consider a personal history of predatory behavior, rather than applying a blanket "if it's dark and taboo topics, then it automatically implicates the author as a pervert.”

You can usually identify these individuals based on the content’s tone and approach--that they aren't approaching a taboo topic for the sake of literary exploration, but because they are self-inserting themselves. There are heavy implications about people who self-insert into that sort of fiction, such as people who write or draw cartoon character CP, and you can usually tell on a case-by-case basis whether or not somebody is hiding a gross perversion behind "It’s Just Fiction.”

Public Interpretation

Public interpretation is usually where the “It’s Just Fiction” argument breaks down entirely, because we are no longer working directly with the work (in-universe) or the people immediately responsible for its creation (authorial intent). Public reactions are very, very real and need to be treated as such--but first, you have to consider the likelihood that a work of fiction will actually contribute to swaying that public.

The argument here is “even if the person didn’t mean any harm, that doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t be held responsible.” And this is another tough one, because on one hand, yes, content creators ideally should exercise mindfulness about how their work will be received and interpreted. On the other hand, the public is beyond the control of any single individual, and things can easily be taken out of context or snowball out of their control, regardless of their intent.

So, for the sake of this particular case, we have determined that the author did not mean to cause harm, the next question is how much harm is being done.

In other words, who exactly is the public, and how many of them are there?

For instance, a bunch of kids filming a shitty monster movie featuring sharks may have the exact same messages as Jaws (sharks are evil and need to be killed). Neither one of them intend to do real sharks any harm; however, the one that needs to be held responsible is Jaws, not the shitty indie film.

Why? Because Jaws was a box-office success that became a cultural phenomenon. It impacted the opinions of the millions of people, leading to a sharp increase of shark hunting.

Yeah, the indie film was equally bad in the messages it was conveying, but it just fades into obscurity without actually doing any harm.

It’s the same spiel with fandom works. Because fandoms are insular spaces, they feel a lot bigger than they actually are. That’s why fan-content creators are not held to the same standards as mainstream content creators, because the public they actually affect is actually quite small.

When people say “It’s Just Fiction” in relation to content that is not intended to do harm, but is controversial in content, what they’re really saying is “fandom is a small, in-bred pocket of the internet, and and because it is not written by somebody intending to cause harm and will never likely see the public eye, the damage that it does is negligible, and any energy that you put into causing an outcry over it is merely a petty waste of time.”

At which point, again, the best course of action is to just block what you don’t want to see.

Applications

This is a long read, and the basic point is to exercise your own critical thinking skills. My general rubric for what I keep versus what I block is:

Is the content actually fictional.

Is the content creator acting out of a desire to hurt others?

If the harm is unintentional, how many people are affected, and how wide-spread is the damage?

Let’s Practice

Case 1

Person A is obsessed with a villainous character from an anime.

They know that the character is completely made up.

They have no desire to hurt other people, since this affection for a fictional character is literally just them. Their actions do not pose a threat to vulnerable groups.

The number of people even directly aware of Person A’s special interest is pretty small, and if you’re squicked out by it they’re an easy block.

Therefore, by this rubric, “It’s Just Fiction” works just fine as an explanation for their actions.

Case 2

Person B’s fanfic reduces your favorite character to LGBT+ stereotypes. The tone of the fic, though, is fluffy and light-hearted.

Again, this is entirely fictional and all parties know it.

It’s difficult to gauge whether this was done intentionally or not; sometimes a quick chat with the author will clear things up; otherwise, the tone of the fic and the lack of mean spirit in any of their other works, so it’s probably unintentional. It’s probably safe to give the benefit of the doubt.

The general readership on the fic and the number of kudos is pretty low, which means that it’s not getting much attention anyways. It was distasteful, it made you feel gross when you read it, but overall the damage is pretty contained.

Therefore, by this rubric, “It’s Just Fiction” still generally works, because of the limited number of people even aware of the fic’s existence.

Case 3

Person C made an AU with characters aged-up from the canon, and there are some N/S/F/W scenes or jokes!

AU = fictional

This is a tricky one sometimes, because there are absolutely people who age up characters just to “legally” draw them in N/S/F/W situations.

However, there is a difference between people who do that, and others who say, project out an entire timeline full of unique character interactions and are looking to explore the various aspects of adult life, which sometimes involves consensual sex. The authorial intent here is usually pretty easy to pick up on, because a well thought-out aged-up AU often takes a lot of mindfulness on the part of the creator.

Again, things limited to fandom spaces are by default pretty small in the public that they reach.

“It’s Just Fiction” absolutely applies here because of the amount of work that has been put into it to create an adult version of the world and characters, and it’s clear that the intent was not to expose minors for the entertainment of perverts.

tl;dr: If you’re going to treat fandom with academic scrutiny, please apply critical thinking to situations as they come. “It’s Just Fiction” does not work as a general statement because it wasn’t originally meant to be a general statement.

#long post #fandom wank #text #idk man #i'm tired

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