#and while this quote was played for mild laughs in the show

[juanabaloo]

BTVS inadvertently trans-ish canon quotes:

So, Ampata. You're a girl. Yes. For many years now.

(part 1 / ?) from 2x04 Inca Mummy Girl

[tyunphoria]

🌪️not in my movie ! — b.chan

- - - - -

⚠️NSFW CONTENT!⚠️

- - - - -

ghostface!bang chan x reader

SYNPNOSIS: just a fun game of cat and mouse till you fall in the lion’s den.

INCLUDES: AFAB reader, college!au, pet names, praise, ANGST and SMUTTT. Finding out he’s ghostface gee what a shocker, not proof read, rushed:p chan’s hella manipulative if you squint.

WARNINGS: threatening, mentions of death and murders, blood, slight degradation, fear play, slight dacryphilia, DOM!chan, p in v, oral (giving), fingering, hair pulling, uh tw just to make sure: non con that turns consensual, semi public not rlly?, UNPROTECTED SEX, mentions of vomiting.

[click here to read ghostface!hanjisung x reader.]

w.c: 4.5k

The leaves were ablaze with autumn hue as y/n walked across the quad of her college campus. She breathed in the crisp autumn air, savouring the hint of bonfire smoke that indicated the fair was being set up. Y/n loved this time of the year. Students milled about between classes, backpacks slung over shoulders, coffee cups warming hands. Some douchebags would even take the liberty to scare their peers and professors while clad in a black robe and a ghostface mask.

Speaking of, your senior Chan just fell victim to one of the pranks and it was hilarious how you got to witness it first hand.

���I hate Halloween…” Chan grumbled as he fell into step beside you.

Your body buzzed with laughter as you handed him the book that slipped from his grasp. “Are you going to that fair tonight?” You ask. Chan makes an expression you couldn’t read, akin to contemplation tinged with mild distaste at the idea. You knew him well enough to read the thoughts flitting across his face — he was tempted by the promise of candy apples and haunted houses but also felt the pull of responsibility to study for his upcoming exam.

“Oh come on, Christopher.” You roll your eyes, “a few hours of fun won’t kill you.”

“Hard pass.” He said. He wasn’t one to back down to these types of things but he claimed that there was something about Halloween which gave him the ‘ick’. “And it’s not just that… Changbin lost a bet so now he’s gonna have to wear a playboy bunny costume to the fair. Think I wanna see that?” You laugh and shake your head, bidding him goodbye as you turn to enter your apartment until Chan stopped you once more by grabbing ahold of your arm.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice stern. “I’m being serious this time. Just… how about you just don’t go? It’s dangerous, especially how late it is at night. Who knows… maybe ghostface himself would show up uninvited.”

His warning sent goosebumps to rise on your skin, making the hair on your nape stand. You mask it with a light scoff. “Really, Chris? When are you gonna drop this ghostface shit. Dude’s been M.I.A for years, I think I’ll be fine.”

You try to pull away but his grip around your wrist tightens before you find yourself being pulled against his chest, hands holding your waist in place as he buries his face against your neck. “Be careful out there, yeah?”

Your hard gaze softens. “I will.”

- - - - -

“Y/n!” Felix beams as he captures you in a tight embrace.

“Jesus Christ, lix.” You gently pull away from the hug to examine his costume. “Elsa?”

“It’s cute, no?” He pouts. “Aya’s over there by the dart booth.” You nod at him gratefully, giving him one last hug before making your way to Aya.

“Hey bitch!” You grin. Aya bounces over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek, staining your skin with the bright red lipstick she wore.

“You wore the costume I bought you, let me see,” she twirls you around. “Hot, hot, okay, but babes that jacket has gotta go.”

“It’s cold!” You protest. “And my tits are practically out.”

Aya sighed in exasperation. “Halloween is the one year where a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.” She quotes.

The fair was packed with hordes of costumed attendees, mostly college students from nearby universities. Your eyes widened as she took in the revealing outfits on display - girls in lingerie masquerading as "sexy cat" costumes, shirtless guys with lampshades on their heads.

"Is that chick only wearing a bra and a fucking g-string?" You murmured to Aya, who stood beside you nibbling on candy corn from a paper bag.

Aya followed her gaze to a scantily clad brunette in the distance. "Looks like it," she snorted.

"Thank god there are no kids around here tonight."

You said, finding the lack of children odd. Usually by 8pm, the fair would be swarming with kids getting high off of cotton candy and running around wildly.

"Yeah, the government placed a curfew," Aya explained after popping a few gummy worms into her mouth. "Didn't you hear?"

"A curfew? No, why?" You felt unease curl in your stomach. The last curfew had been years ago, when a killer in a mask murdered a group of teens.

Aya lowered her voice. "It's all over the news. Two days ago someone broke into this girl's house downtown. And then a bunch of people were found dead behind the HYBE office building."

Your brows furrowed. There's no way it could be Ghostface again, right? That killer had been caught years ago.

Chris’s words from this morning suddenly plagued your mind and it bothered you.

A theory was circulating online that there was more than one Ghostface. That a group of obsessed fans had taken up the killer mantle. Those amateur reddit detectives were digging far deeper than the useless ass police.

What if Chan had been right? Unease bloomed in your chest as you glanced around the fair.

Aya takes notes of her expression, attempting to lighten the mood by shoving some cotton candy in your mouth.

“Stop worrying. Let’s go ride the roller coaster and eat candy till we fucking barf!”

- - - - -

“Oh, fuck me, I’m gonna—“ Aya bends over the railing and hurled.

Your cheeks tint in embarrassment, an awkward smile on your lips as you pat her back, trying to ignore the disgusted looks both of you were receiving.

“Bitch you gotta go on without me,” she slumps against a nearby bench, chugging down a can of beer to wash off the vile taste.

“What!” You frown, “but the haunted house, you promised!” You tugged on her arm but she doesn’t budge. “Tsk, fine, I’ll go without you then.”

They built a new attraction that the place has been working on for years but it just now opened up today. It was a big haunted mansion. You wondered why it took so long for them to open it up, but you found out not too long ago that they didn’t hire any scare actors for this attraction, they were all animatronics.

You see your friend by the entrance, collecting tickets and admitting people in.

"Hyunjin!" you exclaimed, a wide smile lighting up your face as you spotted your friend stationed at the entrance, diligently collecting tickets and admitting people in. "I didn’t know your ass worked here."

The blond returned your smile and motioned for three more people to enter before making his way over to you. "Yeah, I actually wanted to take today off, but they were in desperate need of extra staff. I was looking forward to spending the night with my girlfriend too." he replied with a small sigh. "Surprisingly, it's even more crowded than last year. You'd think people would stay home, given the murder incident that happened at HYBE."

You crossed your arms. You really didn’t wanna think about that right now. casting a quick glance down at your heels, momentarily distracted by the discomfort throbbing in your feet. "I shouldn't have worn these," you gesture to your heels.

Something crossed Hyunjin’s face as his expression went blank. “It’s gonna bitch to run in those if that fucker catches you.”

You gape at him. Who the fuck says something like that so casually?

“Sorry,” Hyunjin chuckled. “It’s part of my script.” Oh right… yeah, of course, it being halloween and him working at a horror attraction explains it.

“Oh, it’s your turn, y/n. You going in alone?” He asks. You glance behind you past the long line of teenagers to spot your friend Aya flirting with some guy. You grunt. “Yeah. Just me.”

Hyunjin smiles, taking your ticket and opening up the doors for you. “Enjoy.” He puts it simply, closing the doors behind you.

Hyunjin glances at the rest of the people in the line, the smile falling from his face as he makes his announcement which results in a chorus of groans.

“Okay everyone! Haunted mansion’s closed for tonight.”

- - - - -

As you ventured further into the haunted mansion, the path guided you through a dimly lit corridor. The flickering candles along the walls cast eerie shadows, whispering secrets in the air.

"for something that took years to make, this is pretty boring," you muttered, your disappointment evident in your voice. The first half of the experience was extremely underwhelming. The animatronics were, at least. But as you stepped into the next room, your boredom quickly turned to awe.

Inside, the place was straight out of a Gothic horror story. The Victorian aesthetic engulfed you, transporting as if you were entering dracula’s house or some shit.

As you continued, animatronic figures lurched and screeched, attempting to startle you with their mechanical movements and eerie sounds. But let's be real, they were more comical than terrifying. Their jerky motions and predictable jump scares only elicited laughter instead of fear..

You couldn't help but chuckle, finding amusement in their exaggerated gestures and obvious gimmicks. It became a game to anticipate their predictable moves, mocking their feeble attempts at fright.

The vibe itself was pretty spooky.

The thing that genuinely terrified you was the sudden ear-piercing scream cutting through the air.

Was that from outside? You couldn’t tell. There weren’t any windows. Maybe it just came from one of the speakers.

How long has it been, seven minutes maybe? Well, for one the place was huge and you took up most of the time taking pictures of the place and messing with the bots.

Startled by the crashing sound of the picture frame hitting the floor, you couldn't help but leap in surprise. As your racing heart gradually settled, you cautiously rounded the corner, only to find yourself confronted with a seemingly endless maze of hallways. The disorienting sight added to your growing sense of unease.

Just as you began to collect your thoughts, your hand-held phone abruptly buzzed, causing you to jump once more. The unexpected vibration sent a jolt through your system, making you exclaim, "Jesus—fuck!" A nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you pressed a trembling hand against your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart.

Assuming it was Aya, you braced yourself for a string of impatient requests to hurry up and drive her home. However, to your surprise, the incoming text displayed an unknown number. Curiosity mingled with a tinge of annoyance as you read the message that flashed on your screen: "

“Let’s play a game:)”

Your heart rate quickened in response, you weren't in the mood for pranks, you grumbled and decided to power off your phone, hoping to put an end to the unsettling message.

Your phone buzzed again.

With a mix of frustration and apprehension, you reluctantly picked up your phone and saw another message from the same unknown number: "Don't fucking ignore me, l/n." The words sent a shiver down your spine.

Reluctantly, you type back, your fingers trembling on the keyboard.

"Who are you?" you ask, your anxiety building with each passing moment.

The chat bubbles appear on the screen, filled with an unsettling anticipation. The silence hangs heavy, broken only by the rapid beating of your heart.

"Let's play," the mysterious person replies.

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you can't help but snap in response. "Look asshole, I don't have time for this," you retort, your patience wearing thin.

A pause follows, and then their next message appears, sending a chill down your spine. "I'm sure you do if your life depends on it," they jeer, their words laced with a sinister edge.

Confusion and fear intertwine within you, clouding your thoughts. Their cryptic statements leave you bewildered, struggling to grasp their true intentions.

Suddenly, a notification pops up, revealing an incoming image. With trembling hands, you open it, only to be met with a horrifying sight—Hyunjin covered in blood, and Aya who looked lifeless leaned up against a pole.

A scream escapes your lips as you drop your phone, shock coursing through your veins. Trembling, you gather the courage to pick up the device again, your mind racing with terror and desperation.

With a renewed sense of horror, you read the next message: "Don't worry, darling. They’re not dead yet. If you can be a good girl for me, I may just spare them."

Each word intensifies your panic, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

“Don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever you want.”

The tears streaming down your face are uncontrollable, having to hold the wall for support so your legs didn’t give up on you.

“Let’s play a game of hide and seek.” It writes. “I’m giving you two minutes to hide. If I find you by the time it strikes 12,” then they stopped typing. Seconds felt like hours as you waited. “Let’s just say they don’t get to see another day. As for you, things won’t get pretty so make sure to hide well:)”

It’s a little after 11:40, so you only have twenty minutes till the game is over. You assume that the timer for the duration you had to hide already started so you wasted no time to break into a sprint.

The game seemed simple enough. All you needed to do was hide for fifteen more minutes and you were golden! Besides, it’s a pretty big mansion. You’re confident that it’ll take them hours to find you.

- - - - -

Two more minutes.

There were only two minutes left.

You sink down against the wall, pulling your legs close to your chest. Thoughts of Chris flood your mind. You imagine how he might be doing, picturing the moment when all of this would be over and you could finally return home. The image of him standing before you, his dimpled smile breaking through, teasingly claiming that going to the fair wasn't such a great idea after all, tugs at the corners of your lips and brings a glimmer of warmth to your heart.

"I told you so!" he would tease, his voice filled with both amusement and genuine concern. But deep down, you know that Chan would be consumed with worry for your well-being and safety. You already imagine him scolding you, all while showering you with hugs and gifts to make you feel better. As his junior, his guidance and advice always carried weight, and you never missed an opportunity to listen to his words.

You find yourself sinking deeper into the memories, recalling how Chan had always been so understanding. Whenever the principal's wrath came crashing down, he was there, standing by your side, ready to defend you with unwavering loyalty. And when the storms of heartbreak or failed hook-ups battered your heart, Chris, was there to console you in ways that went beyond words. It was as if you were a treasured princess in his eyes, deserving of nothing but the utmost care and tenderness.

But right now wasn’t exactly the best time to dwell on your fat crush on him.

Like, yes, sure you guys fucked one or twice before but they meant nothing. It was just a way to relieve frustrations with zero strings attached.

His warmth, his voice… his hands that touch you in all the right places.

You’re definitely gonna miss it if you die in this hell hole.

“What's on your pretty little mind that’s got you thinking so deeply, princess?”

You gasp and quickly shoot up to a sprint until your front is pushed up against a wall, feeling someone’s weight pressed against you along with a cold blade poking against your throat.

“I found youuuu,” he taunts.

The man wearing a ghostface mask chuckled as he pressed the knife more into your neck, enough to make a small cut. You wince and groan in pain. The situation is almost laughable, finding it somewhat cliché with the way you’re about to die.

“Fucking… let me go,”

“But princess, I won didn’t I? We had a deal.”

“Fine! You win! Just kill me already then, why drag longer?”

You squirm around to possibly irk him more to speed up the process but as you do, the further your backside gets pushed into his hard on making him groan into your left ear. “But what’s the fun in killing you right away. I’m here to claim my prize.”

Your eyes widen, realizing what his intentions were now.

An idea popped in your head. If you just played along for a few more, you can distract him and make a beeline for the exit.

A laugh slips past your lips. “What’s this? I didn’t expect mister ghostface to be such a perv.” You rub your ass against the tent of his sweats eliciting a strained grunt from the man behind you.

He drops the knife, closing your throat with his fist, bringing your head back. “Don’t fucking tempt me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of his gloved hand cupping your sensitive pussy. Slick begins to stain your lacy red panties as he hummed and dragged his middle finger along your slit. You gasp out in surprise, “don’t do that…”

“Oh? But you were rubbing against me not too long ago like a little slut, what happened to that confidence?” He reaches down further and gently parts the lips of your vulva before gently circling your entrance.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Your eyes flutter open at his words. You both have already gone this far, why stop now? If you told him to stop, would it just prompt him to kill you? You wanted to atleast see Chris before you died… Well, he asked for permission at least so that was good… fuck it, what about this situation was considered good in the first place? Played with your feelings using fear and dread and now he has you pressed up against the wall with his hand down your underwear.

It was a bit of a turn on.

“Why don’t you kiss my ass and fuck me already.”

You couldn’t see his face but you knew from the tone of his voice that he was grinning, “Good choice.” You were wet and waiting, so he slips a finger inside, thumb circling your clit. You moan, back arching. He adds another finger and pumps his fingers, adjusting the pace while you fall apart in his arms. Your sighs and moans, the way your body responds to him. He hooks his fingers as he circles your clit, rewarded with a moan that sounds suspiciously like calling on the gods.

You tighten around his fingers as you cum, your cheeks flushed in mild embarrassment, with your lipstick smudged from his fingers stuffing your throat full. He strokes you through your orgasm, a beautiful sight to see you undone like this, having to fight the urge to rio off his mask and kiss you.

“Did that feel good, princess?”

“Don’t… call me that.”

“What’s wrong? Do you like being called derogatory names instead?”

Your cheeks flushed. “No! I just… only he can call me princess…”

Ghostface went quiet as he stilled momentarily. He takes his fingers out. “Is that so..” his laughter fills your ears and you can’t help but shy away by hiding your face. Your body was jerked around, forcing you to face him as he squished your cheeks together roughly.

“Open your eyes.”

You shake your head. He moved his hand from your cheeks to your hair making you moan out in surprise.

“Your mask scares me!” You cried out. Staring back at the two blank eyes of the costume while getting fucked isn’t exactly ideal.

“Then I’ll take it off.”

He’s bluffing. Cause there’s no way in hell — this dude’s gotta be bluffing. “You’d do that?”

“For you I would.”

‘Yeah. If you could just take off your mask so I could report you to the police when I’m outta here that’d be great.’

But you’d wish you told him to keep his mask on instead. You would’ve rather preferred that.

“Chris?”

He cradled your face in his hand. “Why do you look so sad, princess? Not what you were expecting?” All you could do was cry. You were confused. You felt betrayed. You wanted nothing more than to shove him away but also melt against the warmth of his touch, the gentle caress of his hands that once brought you comfort. “Shh… shh, don’t cry.” Chan leans in and kisses away your tears.

“Why?” You hiccuped.

“I didn’t want you finding out. I never meant for this to happen.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Hell, y/n, I didn’t want you getting roped into this mess but you drive me fucking insane.

I won’t kill you, I just wanted to be honest with you. I’m sorry if you had to find out this way—“

You swallow his next words with a kiss. You didn’t want to listen to his words anymore. You didn’t care if it’s an excuse, you didn’t care if it was a lie, you didn’t care about anything as long as it was him.

“Save it. Whatever lame ass excuse you’re about to come up with, I forgive you.” This catches him off guard. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off again, “I’m tired and my pussy’s throbbing so let’s hurry and wrap this up.”

He grinned, urging to your knees. He gave your cheek a rough couple pats as he brought his index and middle finger to your lips, “open.” You part your lips and with little to no warning, he shoves his fingers down your throat. With his other hand, he pulled his sweats and briefs halfway down his toned thighs. He rubbed your spit around the length of his dick, giving it a few strokes before tracing the tip against your lips.

You poke your tongue out just to get a little taste of him making Chris visibly shudder. He groans before pushing the tip past your lips. You wrapped your lips around his cock and his hand immediately found its way on the back of your head. “Yeah… fuck, just like that…” you wrapped both of your hands around his length and worked quick pumps around the head while the other worked its way along the base.

He felt his knees buckle a little when you started sucking his balls. “You look so pretty like this,” he urged himself back into your mouth. “And who do you belong to?”

“You.” You moan. “I’m all yours, Channie.”

That was all the confirmation he needed before he began to brutally fuck your little throat. Your dress had ridden up gave it the liberty to press the tip of his shoe against your cunt making your hips jerk forward. As he ruthlessly fucked your throat and the laces of his converse rubbed deliciously against uour clit the stimulation was beyond amazing. After holding your head firmly against his pelvic area for what seemed like eternity, he finally let you get some air, removing yourself from his dick with a sloppy pop.

“Come here, pretty princess. Wanna cum inside of you…” he was quick to pull you to your feet and pushed you back up against the wall. Your answering smile is a smug thing, as if you’re proud of the effect you had on him. He kisses you then, groaning as he tastes himself on your tongue. Chan gripped your plush thighs and lifted you up with ease. He was gentle and slow, despite the circumstances you were thrown into. He rips your panties in half trying to get them off, drowning out your protests with a slight chuckle. “I’ll buy you new one’s.” He shoves your panties in his pocket before swiping his tip against your wet folds. “Oh,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as he begins to move. The rhythm is slow at first, your fingers pulling him closer, as if you could eliminate all space between the both of you. Your hips meet his every thrust as they move together at a languid pace, as if they have all the time in the world.

He can feel the way your heart races, the rush of blood in your veins. He tries to be as gentle as possible as he sinks his teeth into your neck, drawing a delicious gasp from your lips as he thrusts into you, hoping to balance out the sensation of pain and pleasure. His face hovers over yours, breaths mingling. “Can you hear how wet you are?” He grunts, adding his thumb to the mix by rubbing your almost painfully sensitive clit. You moan loudly, back arching against the wall when you felt chan begin to suck at your tits over the thin material of your dress.

“Been wanting to fuck you for so long… seeing you walk around all night looking dolled up, I felt so jealous.”

He pounds mercilessly into your poor pussy, salty tears beginning to run down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure. “You're so gorgeous… wanna make you all mine — fuck,” he moans. “You’re so naughty… I told you not to go, didn’t I?”

“Channniiieee…. I’m gonna,” you whimper, whining against his lips. “I’m cumming… oh fuck, I’m cumming…”

“so cute…” he cooed. “You disobeyed me, and look at where we’re at now.”

You tangle your fingers in his hair as you orgasm followed by a shudder.

What sounded like footsteps that were approaching closer and closer catches you off guard and it seemed to have a similar effect on him as well.

Sticking to your plan from earlier, you shove him off of you while he’s distracted trying to figure out who could be approaching and make a beeline for the exit. His back hits a table, eyes widening.

“Love you Channie!” You grinned and before he could grab you, you shut the two heavy metal doors in front of him.

He grumbled, pulling his pants back on and opening the door only to be met with a ghostface mask staring right back at him.

“Hey,” Jisung says as he rips the mask off him.

“The van’s parked outside, the other’s have been waiting for twenty fucking minutes.” He says but he only received a glare from his leader. “You look pissed. What the hell happened this time?”

“Change of plans,” Chan says as he picks up his knife and mask from the floor. “You guys go on ahead without me.”

“What?” Jisung scoffed. “You can’t just do that at the last minute. Look, we’ve been planning this shit for years, you can’t just back down ‘cause you can’t control your dick. The police are already on their way, and—!” Chan throws his knife, missing Han by a hair as it pierces through the portrait behind him. Han felt his breathing stop for a quick second.

“You had your fair share of fucking with your slut, so pipe down.”

Jisung glowered, hand tightening around the handle of his gun. “Don’t fucking call her that.” He says, but he knew better than to get into an argument with his boss.

“I’ll meet you guys tomorrow.” Chan slips his mask back on.

“I’m gonna go claim back what’s mine.”

a.n: ruh roh, alpha wolf chan is mad cs he didnt get to orgasm😕😕

and yall i get it, you want more skz ghostface content, im getting there okay😭

also pls lmk if you want me to make anime fics too, all ive been posting about are skz dhisbsje i can write genshin too. P.s all ghostface aus r connected, hyunjin is next methinks

[mulloey]

restraint • seonghwa

you embarrass seonghwa in front of his colleagues.

tags: hard dom!seonghwa, sub!reader. professor seonghwa. this is quite intense. specific warnings below.

word count: 8.3k

warnings: punishment, pet play, humiliation, impact play, mean angry dom!seonghwa, scolding, praise, heavy degradation, mild piss play (reader pisses on the floor), deep throating, gagging, fingering, choking, safeword mention, begging, fucking, sir kink, mild cum play, bdsm dynamics. this is a little gross sorry. the sections with piss are marked so they can be avoided without taking away from the fic.

DON’T LIKE, DON’T READ. HATE IS DELETED AND BLOCKED.

—————

You should be at home right now. On a Friday night at 7PM, you should be falling asleep on the couch while waiting for your boyfriend to serve dinner. Or curled up next to him, one hand in his hair while you watch TV. Or kissing him. Or touching him. Or…anything. Anything but this.

But here you are, in a strapless dress and painful black heels, silently observing the laughing gaggle of your boyfriend’s colleagues, dressed to impress for another very important, cannot-be-missed-under-any-circumstances work event.

Your boyfriend, Seonghwa, is on the other side of the room, talking to some girl from his work with a little too much enthusiasm for your liking. Not that you're worried that he’d cheat on you, no, Seonghwa is the single most loyal person you’ve met, and he reminds you of how much he loves you every single day. It’s just that you're not ignorant to how goddamn attractive he is. You're not ignorant to the undeniable fact that wherever they go, there'll be about 15 girls and a couple of guys who would take your place by his side in an instant. You see it in their eyes. See it in the eyes of the girl he’s talking to now.

You don't blame her. He’s easy to fall for, with his soft hands and loud laugh and impossibly brown eyes. And that, of course, is just at first sight. The layered, complex man underneath that perfect exterior is more than enough to rival his more superficial appeals.

The pristine Professor Park, the picture of class, intellect, and pretty much every positive adjective you could possibly think of. Always impeccably dressed, never without a quote from a novel or paper or film, always knowing what to say and how to say it. Just completely and utterly perfect.

And, rumour has it, nothing less than an animal in the bedroom. You both know the tales that are told of him across campus - tales of hickeys hidden beneath turtlenecks, strange noises and suspicious silences from behind the locked door of his office, and of course his insistence that if a certain someone calls his office, no one, under any circumstances, is to ask if they can take a message. That rule, and the incident that had spawned it (and spawned a whole lot more in the privacy of your bedroom), is more than enough to paint a picture of what you definitely heard a student refer to as a ‘love-making beast’.

You swallow a laugh at the thought. If only they knew. If only they fucking knew.

The girl he’s talking to certainly seems keen on finding out. You watch her closely, following her eyes as she looks the man up and down.

Seonghwa says something and the girl giggles, twirling a strand of brown hair round your finger with nothing but heart eyes for the man before her. If Seonghwa is aware of what she’s doing, he doesn’t show it. He just listens to her as she speaks, her soft, admittedly almost velvety voice only just heard above the clash of music and chatter. But he looks slightly bored, which brings you some comfort at least. You catch his eye when he turns away briefly and he frowns at your expression. He excuses himself from his companion and strolling over to you, looking concerned.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your hair, snaking an arm around your waist. “You’re annoyed.”

You relax into his touch, closing your eyes for a second before turning to meet his gaze. You swallow. Even now, as his eyes stare into yours, full of love and concern, his stare is somehow intimidating. Everything about him is, even in his softest moments; the way he moves, the way he speaks, the way he touches you is all power and control and dominance, a constant reminder of exactly who’s in charge, exactly who owns you.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks softly.

“Nothing,” you say all too quickly.

He raises an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

“Well. You.”

“Me,” he says with a hum. “What about me?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You flinch at the coldness in your voice, a coldness that clearly doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who stares at you in confusion. You soften slightly, words quiet and as gentle as you can get them right now. “I’m going to get a drink. I just… sorry.”

Seonghwa nods, and, clearly trying to figure out what’s got you so irritated, grabs your arm as you turn to leave, immobilising you.

“Baby,” he says, voice low. “Watch it.”

Then he releases you, shoves you into the crowd and you gulp, ignoring the fire his words had started in your stomach as you weave through the guests crowding the living room. The smell of alcohol is all around you as you approach the kitchen, but right now you're intoxicated on something else entirely. His words echo in your head, emboldened by the dangerous tone with which they’d been spoken and you can’t make yourself think of anything else.

Just three words. Three little words, and you're dizzy. He knows the effect he has on you. Practically feeds off of it.

When you return to the living room, clutching the two bottles of beer you’d retrieved for your and your perfect boyfriend, the girl from before is back next to him. This time, her hand is around his waist.

Your resolve snaps, vision clouded as you, barely aware of yourself, drop the beers to the floor and stride towards the two.

“What the fuck is this?” You seethe, trying and failing to keep your voice at a whisper — by now, the party has all but stopped to watch the much more interesting show unfolding.

Seonghwa mutters your name, tone warning. “Don’t,” he says but you barely hear him, your focus on the woman who has quickly distanced herself from him, face pink.

“I’m sorry,” she starts. “I didn’t know he—”

“Yeah?” You laugh. “Well you do now. Go whore yourself out to another one of your seniors.”

You hear gasps echo around the room, but no one looks more surprised — or angry — than Seonghwa.

You mumble an apology and retreat to the kitchen, more embarrassed than you’ve ever been in your life. You can’t believe you stood and berated someone over a man like you’re a fucking teenager.

You hear the kitchen door open then close and you don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“What the fuck was that?” Seonghwa hisses.

“Baby, I—”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he snaps. You flinch, caught off guard by his tone and he seems to soften slightly at your surprise, but the anger on his face remains.

“You—” you start, but he cuts you off as if he hasn’t even heard you.

“Explain,” he says. “Now.”

“Seonghwa, please-”

“Now,” he repeats, nearing a yell. “I mean it. You won’t like what happens if you don’t.”

“She was touching you, Seonghwa,” you whine. you reach for his face but he gently slaps your hand away.

“I know she was,” Seonghwa says. “And I was going to deal with that. Until you decided that it was your responsibility, your right, to try and discipline my colleagues.”

“I—”

“No,” he says. “Go and get your coat, we’re going home.”

You nod, mumbling another apology before walking to the cloak room. You sit in there for a few minutes, trying to calm down, and give Seonghwa the chance to do the same, before you walk back to where he is. But when you see him he’s barely moved, and his expression is, dangerously, still the same.

“Are you really angry at me?” You ask softly. You know you’ve fucked up but you’d thought he’d have calmed down enough to not be overly angry. But apparently not.

“Yes,” he says, apparently electing not to sugarcoat the severity of the situation. Not that you were expecting him to; Seonghwa has always been upfront like that, seeing no point in lying to soften the blow. You’ve fucked up and he’s not going to waste time pretending that you haven’t.

He helps you put your coat on, still gentlemanly (for now) but briefly grabs the back of your neck as you fasten it. He stares at you for a second, expression blank before he releases his grip with a scoff.

“I don’t want to fight when we get home,” you say softly.

“We’re not going to fight,” Seonghwa responds.

You blink, caught off guard by his statement. Based on his reaction, you were certain this was going to end in a screaming match. Hopefully one that ends with the best sex you’ve had in weeks, but you don't want to risk the off chance that the night will instead end at a friend’s house if things get messy.

“We’re not?”

“No.” Frowning, Seonghwa turns back to face you. “I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

—————

The drive home is silent, Seonghwa clearly too irritated to do anything but focus on the road and you too afraid to speak lest you make it worse for yourself, but the tension between the two, and the lingering threat of whatever the hell Seonghwa has planned for you when you get home, is louder than anything either of you could say. It’s everywhere; in his body language, written on his face and in the intensity of the gaze that he never moves from the road. It’s in the way his hand grips your thigh, normally gentle touches suddenly rough, hard, a vessel through which he channels the anger that cannot wait until you get home to be released.

What’s he going to do today? At the party he’d promised punishment, but that could mean any number of things. you try to recall the previous punishments you’ve faced at his hands, browsing through memories to try and figure out which one he might choose today. That’s if you're lucky (or unlucky) enough to receive only one.

He’s fucked your mouth a few times, but once he caught onto how much you enjoyed it it became a less frequent punishment. Humiliation is common - you shudder at the memory of his smug smile as you’d walked around the rooftop garden of your shared apartment, completely naked save for the collar you wore only when he felt you needed reminding of who you belonged to. Or when he’d suddenly revoked furniture privileges, demanding you kneel on the floor as he ate, watched TV, slept. A shudder runs down your spine at the thought, but as you consider it more you realise that Seonghwa is most likely too angry to choose something like that today. That’s for when you've been teasing him, toying with him, for when the punishment is as much a form of fun as it is discipline. But today, you can tell you’ve pushed him beyond that. He’s properly, dangerously angry, and he needs release. He needs to show you who’s in charge, and exactly what happens when you disobey him.

What the fuck is he going to do to you?

Looking back out the window, you realise you’re pulling into your street, and as the car starts to slow you feel your heart begin to race in anticipation, the sound of it echoing in your skull with a similar intensity to the fear that fills your body when the car stops and Seonghwa turns off the engine.

“Get out,” he says, leaving no room for conversation or argument.

You huff but comply, dragging yourself towards your building and up the steps. Your steps are small and slow, an attempt to delay the punishment that surely awaits, but your plan doesn’t escape Seonghwa and he shoves you towards the door with a low chuckle.

“Not gonna work, baby. Faster.”

You curse every God that could possibly exist when you see the elevator is already waiting for you, as if Seonghwa had somehow called ahead to ensure that every effort would be made to speed up your punishment. Seonghwa says nothing as you step in and press the button of your floor, and though you dread the thought of what’s going through his head, you almost wish he would say something. Just so you could get an idea of how angry he is.

As if he’d read your mind, he speaks. “Just so you know,” he says, and the tone alone tells you more than enough, “If I were less opposed to the idea of being arrested, I’d belt your ass black and blue right here in this elevator.”

Your jaw drops. “Oh.” Belting is rare. He’s done it a few times, of course, but it’s generally reserved for your very worst behaviour. Surely you haven't been that bad tonight. Have you?

“But I’m not going to belt you tonight,” he says, placing a hand on your lower back as you exit the elevator. “Unless you decide to be even more of a brat. It’s just that what I have planned would be… well, as disgusting as I am, doing that in an elevator is a line I still won’t cross.”

Okay, he definitely has some sick shit planned for you. Probably something illegal.

Your heart quickens as you turn the corner, bringing your apartment into view. You feel Seonghwa tense next to you as you walk and turn your head, quickly sneaking a look at his face. Fuck. You know that look. Eyes dark and scheming. Lips curled into a small smile. Eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. This is not Seonghwa, your sweet, caring boyfriend who makes you breakfast in bed and looks at you like you have the world in your eyes. This is Seonghwa, your dominant, whose every move oozes power and control, who uses and abuses you however, whenever he wants.

Who can do anything he wants to you and knows it.

You are so fucked.

————

“Look at this.”

His words are soft, arousal filled as he takes in the sight before him. And what a sight it must be.

You stand in the middle of the living room, sleek black collar the only thing covering your otherwise naked body. The word carved into the inside is an ever-present and all too familiar feeling on your neck. The burn of humiliation as you’d watched Seonghwa put it on you, pausing to point out the engraving, still lingers within you as it presses into your tender skin. Slut.

You’re cold and uncomfortable and you feel completely humiliated. Seonghwa, on the other hand, appears entirely at bliss, lounging comfortably on the couch and sipping a glass of red wine as his eyes roam your naked body. Despite you being too nervous, too embarrassed to meet his gaze, you feel his eyes on you, examining you as though you were a priceless work of art rather than the girl he’d stripped and abandoned in the middle of his living room.

Your hands are raised above your head, at his orders of course, making it impossible for you to cover your breasts, to cover the nipples that have hardened as a result of the air conditioning, which you have no doubt he had turned up to full on purpose.

Seonghwa takes another sip of his wine, a small smile on his face, then speaks. “Enjoying yourself?”

You huffs. “You know I’m not, Seonghwa.”

Forgetting yourself, you almost slap your hand across your mouth. What the fuck did you just say? That’s not his fucking name.

“What was that?” He asks coolly.

“I’m sorry, sir, I meant sir, I promise.” You start to trip over your words in your panic, but Seonghwa gets the message.

“Much better. I’m really not in the mood to put you over my knee tonight, my dear, as much as I think you expected me to.”

You almost miss the smile that flickers across his face at your reaction. You’re so transparent.

The smile disappears, replaced with the straight, unreadable expression from before. “You do know why you’re being punished, don’t you?” He asks.

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Tell me,” he says, leaning forwards in his seat. “Tell me what you did.”

“I insulted that girl,” you say. “And I embarrassed you in front of everyone.”

He shakes his head, unsatisfied. “Not just a girl. A colleague. A new colleague. Are you trying to tarnish my reputation?”

“What?” You say before you can stop yourself. Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. You correct yourself. “No, sir, of course not.”

“Yet there you were,” he says. “Humiliating me in front of my colleagues, disobeying my orders in public while they look on. Where are your manners, pet?”

You bite your lip, almost whining at the mention of that nickname. Dirty move.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was annoyed.”

“You made a fool out of me,” Seonghwa says. “As your boyfriend, and as your dominant.”

You hang your head, ashamed. Now that your head is clearer you feel his words even deeper. He’s right. Seonghwa has never cared for others' opinions on your relationship. It’s only his professional reputation — the thing that puts food on the table and keeps the cupboard stuffed with toys — that he cares about. And you should have known better than to risk it like that.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“I know you are,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to punish you. You know I do, sweetheart. It’s how you learn.”

There's no anger in his voice now. Just disappointment. And you fucking hate it. Hate it when you let him down, hate the sadness in his eyes when he watches your misbehave, watches you ignore his rules and lessons and guidance, everything he’d created for your benefit, your protection, you. Everything you so easily disregarded for the sake of a jealous rant. Fuck. You’ve fucked up.

A twinge of guilt pulls at you and you nod demurely. If you’ve ever deserved to be punished, you deserve it now.

“I understand, sir.”

“There we are,” he smiles. “It’s so much easier when you behave, isn't it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nods, satisfied. “Good,” he says. “Keep this obedience up and it’ll be a lot better for you.”

He leans back, keeping his eyes on you as you stand there. After a few minutes confusion overtakes you and you shyly speak.

“Sir, are we— are you going to make me do anything else?” You ask, still baffled by the mildness of the punishment.

“That depends on your behaviour,” Seonghwa responds. “If you decide to be good, there'll be no more punishment. If not…” he pauses, leans back in his seat without shifting his gaze from you. He reaches for his belt, finger tracing the black leather. His hand twitches as it crosses the buckle and the slight smile on his face suggests that the memories of the belt impacting your ass are just as present in his mind as they are in yours. “This is still on the table.”

“Oh,” you say.

He stares for a moment then smiles, tilting his head almost cutely. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Huh?” You frown, confused. You’re not sure what exactly you’re supposed to be getting, so you guess he’s right. Whatever ‘it’ is, you don’t get it.

He laughs slightly, shaking his head like you’re missing something obvious. “No matter, then,” he says, “just stay like this. No moving.”

You nod and do as he says, wanting to be good now. Seconds stretch into minutes which pass by like hours, but still nothing happens. You stand in position and Seonghwa watches you, slowly making his way through a glass of wine that you too could really use right now. His gaze is sharp but not particularly interested, more like he’s monitoring you than watching you. Which you guess is accurate; in a way that’s what he’s doing, monitoring you and your punishment, looking for any signs of you faltering or disobeying, or more importantly, for any signs that you’re reaching your limit. But you’re not reaching your limit. You’re not doing anything.

Eventually Seonghwa gets bored and, apparently, is satisfied that you’re being obedient enough for him to pick up a book next to him. You recognise it as one he’s mentioned wanting to start; something Greek, you think. You watch as he reads; his brows are furrowed slightly as the small amount of alcohol he’s consumed has made it slightly harder to focus. After a while you feel the familiar feeling of discomfort and shyly speak up. “Sir?”

Seonghwa hums, not lifting his gaze from his book.

“I— I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Then go,” he says, still not looking up.

Brevity is the soul of wit, they say. You linger for a second, unsure of yourself, then start to walk. You barely make it two steps before Seonghwa’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Who told you to move?”

‘What?’ you think. Of course you’re going to move. How else are you supposed to— oh. Oh. The realisation of what he’s suggesting, commanding, almost knocks you off your feet. Holy shit. “Sir, I don’t— are you kidding?” you splutter.

Seonghwa says nothing, the words does it look like I’m fucking kidding? written across his blank face. Bastard.

“You’ve lost the privilege of using the facilities of this house.” He says it so seriously, so formally that he seems like a businessman closing a deal rather than a man directing his girlfriend to piss on the living room floor.

You have no idea what to say, what to think, how to react to his request— no, not request. Seonghwa doesn’t make requests. This is nothing less than an order. “Sir, I—”

“That privilege,” he continues, “is for good girls. And you have not been good. So you can piss on the floor like a dog.”

You baulk. Holy shit. He’s actually serious. That… is beyond anything you’ve ever done. Or discussed. Is he actually going to make you do this? Do you even want this? Sure, you love when he treats you like an animal, when he humiliates and degrades you until the only thing on your mind is being fucked, but this is something else. You can’t do this. Can you?

“If you’re not comfortable,” Seonghwa says, “You can safeword. I won’t be angry. But I don’t think you want to, do you?”

Fuck. The safeword hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’re unsure about this, of course you are — it’s new and unclear and beyond anything you’ve ever even considered — but the idea of using your safeword, of ending all this, never seeing where it would go, what would happen, had never even occurred to you. Maybe you do want this. To piss on the floor while Seonghwa watches, to feel the burn of humiliation that he’s made sure is painfully familiar. To feel like the animal you become only for him. Because of him.

You speak quietly, voice barely a whisper, and the words send a rush of humiliation down your spine.

“I don’t, sir.”

Seonghwa smiles. “Good girl.” He leans back in his chair, eyes never leaving your reddening face. The book is closed on his lap now, and he takes a small sip of his wine as he waits for you to begin.

You have no idea what to do. Well, you know what you have to do, you have to piss on the floor while your boyfriend watches, but how do you… do you just start? Do you just stand there and piss?

He watches you silently, blank face a contrast to impatient eyes and you shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze. You wouldn’t dare ask him to turn away while you does it — it would kind of defeat the point, anyway, and you don’t want to know how he’d react to you resisting punishment — but the knowledge that Seonghwa — tall, strong, domineering Seonghwa who’d been the apple of so many eyes at the party — is about to watch your piss on the floor, ass naked, like some sort of animal, does nothing for your pride. Not that Seonghwa allows you much of it, anyway.

“I���m not a patient man, you know,” he says. “So I’d advise you to hurry up.”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry, it’s just— how can we— how will we even clean it up?” You splutter, unable to select just one of the millions of questions burning in your mind.

“That is none of your concern,” Seonghwa answers with a smile. “All you have to do is be a good little girl and piss on the floor like you’ve been told to.”

You nod but don’t move, still not quite able to force yourself to do it.

“Don’t act like this is beneath you,” Seonghwa says. “I know you. I know you’re just a dog built for the sole purpose of taking my dick, and it’s about time I treated you like one. So piss on the fucking floor before I think of another way to punish you.”

Shit. Okay. You can do this. you just have to— fuck...

“Whatever’s making you hesitate, let go of it,” Seonghwa says, leaning forward. “You don’t seem to know your place. I do. So let go.”

“Sir,” you whisper.

“Let go,” Seonghwa repeats. “I won’t say it again.”

—

[STARTS HERE]

—

Eventually you manage. You close your eyes, trying to shut out your surroundings and it works. You feel it start, trickling down your legs and you flush crimson. You want to die.

“Look at you,” Seonghwa spits. “You’re filthy.”

“Fuck, Seonghwa, I—”

It keeps going, trickling down your legs and pooling around your feet and it’s disgusting. You feel disgusting. Not to mention how humiliating it is to be ass naked while your boyfriend still has his fucking shoes on.

But that same humiliation twists in your gut, colliding with your arousal and the emotions crash into each other like waves against a rock, eating away at you, wearing you down so slowly you doesn’t realise it until it’s too late and you’re drowning in it and the only thing you want to do is fall to your knees in pure worship.

You cry out, overcome by the millions of sensations that explode in your body and mind like fireworks. Who knew pissing could be so… this?

“Dirty bitch, aren’t you?” Seonghwa says. “Pissing on the floor like a fucking animal.”

“I- fuck, sir- I am.”

“What are you, baby?” Seonghwa asks. “Say it. Tell me what you are.”

“An animal, sir,” you say between gasps. “I’m your animal.”

“That you are. And such a good one, darling. Are we done?”

Unable to form any sound resembling a word, you nod. Seonghwa gives a proud smile and rises from the couch, discarding the glass of wine on the side table. He doesn’t approach you. Just stands there.

“I would come closer,” he says, “but I don’t want to step in your mess.”

You say nothing, just turn your gaze towards the mess he speaks of with such disgust. It’s disgusting, you're aware of that. You both are. It’s disgusting to stare at your own piss on the living room floor while your boyfriend degrades you, and you’ve never felt so humiliated, so embarrassed, so ashamed. But you’s also never been this fucking horny.

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” Seonghwa asks, slowly inching towards you. He scoffs. “Stupid dog. Can’t think of anything but getting fucked, can you?”

“Sir,” you almost scream, “Sir, please, fucking hell, please.”

“Please what, darling?” He asks, cocking his head. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t— fuck sir.”

Seonghwa chuckles, amused eyes looking you up and down. “Look at you. I haven’t even touched you and you’re already a fucking mess. Come here.”

You blank for a second while your clouded mind processes his words then move to walk towards him, but you’re stopped in your tracks by Seonghwa’s noise of disapproval. “That won’t do,” he says.

“What?”

“I don’t think you’ve earned the right to walk. Crawl.”

You pussy throbs at the command and you swallow, cheeks flushed as you get down on all fours. In a pool of your own piss. Holy shit.

You go slowly, one hand after the other and you feel absolutely fucking vile. You can’t believe you're doing this and some part of you doesn’t want to believe it, but you can’t bring yourself to give a shit. You’ve never needed your boyfriend, his dick, more in your entire life than you do right now. And based on the dent in Seonghwa’s dress pants as he sits back down on the couch, and the sweat that’s already building on his face, the feeling is mutual.

You crawl to his feet, stilling when he places a firm hand in your hair and pulls your face towards his crotch. “Good girl,” he hums, then lifts your face and pulls it towards him, forcing eye contact. “What a good dog I have.”

“Fuck. Sir,” you whisper.

“I’m here, pup. But you aren’t quite forgiven yet.”

He hands you wet cloth you didn’t know he had, instructing you to dry your hands and you do. “Stand,” he orders.

With shaking legs to stand up and he takes the cloth, using it to run up and down your legs until you’re clean. He scrubs you harshly, until your shins are red and irritated, before he drops the cloth and orders he back down to your knees.

—

[ENDS HERE]

—

“I think you need some reminding of who you belong to,” he says. “Open your mouth.”

Hesitantly you obey him, watching as he pulls his dick out of his pants. Even now, you’re always a little surprised by the size. He doesn’t give you any time to speak, shoving his dick into your mouth without warning. You choke at first, surprised by the intrusion but you quickly get used to it His dick is thick and wet and you devour it; lick it, suck it, gag on it, let Seonghwa force it down your throat over and over until it’s the only thing you feel, the only thing you want, the only thing you can think about. Seonghwa grunts and moans, gives rough praises that you can’t comprehend. He grabs the back of your head, pushing you further down onto his dick and he smiles.

“You don’t really need to breathe, do you?”

He doesn’t give you time to react before he forces himself even further into your throat and it burns, burns in the most delicious fucking way and you love it, love the way he thrusts into your throat with no mercy, no concern for you or your comfort. This is about his pleasure and his only. Right now, you exist solely to serve him, to serve his dick and you fucking love it.

“That’s it,” he groans.

He thrusts into your again and it fucking hurts but the scream you let out is muffled by his dick, drowned out by his loud, pleasured groans.

You rise off your knees, trying to get closer to him, to take more of him in your mouth, but he pushes you back down.

“No fucking moving, dog. Remember your place,” he says. “Remember who’s in charge here.”

You say nothing, paying no attention to his words as you lean forward again and force him down your throat. you don’t care who’s in charge. Don’t care about following his orders or respecting his authority. You need him. All of him.

But instead of giving you what you want, he pushes you off his dick and slaps you across the face.

You gasp at the impact, lifting a hand to your stinging cheek with a moan of pain. Seonghwa gives you a second to recover before he slaps you again, just as hard on the other cheek and you scream.

“Greedy bitch,” he spits. “Are you that fucking desperate?”

“Sir,” you whine, still clutching your stinging cheeks. “Ow, sir, please.”

“Quiet,” he says. “I don’t want another word out of you. All I want you to do is be a good little mutt and suck my dick exactly how I tell you to. Am I clear?”

“But sir, I want—”

He grabs a fistful of hair, pulling your face towards his. “I don’t care,” he says lowly, “what you want. You are nothing to me. Now tell me. Am I clear?”

You say nothing, just give a small whine and Seonghwa’s grip in your hair tightens, a small sneer on his lips.

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks mockingly.

You turn away, biting your lip. Seonghwa chuckles, hand still in your hair, and pulls you back to face him. Your tear filled eyes stare into his and he gives a small smile.

“So pretty,” he mumbles. “But so worthless.”

“Sir,” you breathe.

“And so polite,” he praises. “Too little too late, though, unfortunately.”

“I know, sir.”

“I’m sure you do. But it’s too late,” he says, shaking his head. “So here's what’s going to happen.”

You perk up, ready to listen. Seonghwa smiles for a moment, almost fond.

“You’re going to do everything I say,” he says. “When I say it. Starting with this.”

He grabs you again, pulls you towards him with a groan and shoves his dick back into your mouth without warning. You choke, caught off guard and you almost fall back but Seonghwa’s grip in your hair is strong; it forces you to sit upright, forces his dick further and further into your mouth — further than what you’d tried and failed to take minutes earlier and it’s almost too much. You whine and moan and scream around his dick but he ignores you, presses on as if you were nothing to him and you fucking love it. This is what you needed.

Seonghwa sighs contentedly. “You’re so much prettier with your mouth full,” he says.

As usual, his words go right to your stomach and he seems to notice, for he chuckles slightly before giving a quick thrust into your mouth. You take it all, letting him thrust in again and again with no regard for your or your pleasure. Just using you, carelessly like a toy.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Yeah, baby. Take it.”

You whine but nod, letting him thrust in and out as he pleases.

“I’m going to cum in your mouth,” he says matter-of-factly. “And you’re going to swallow every last drop. Aren’t you?”

Too preoccupied with the dick in your mouth, you just groan. Seonghwa, of course, gets the message. “Good. Because if you don’t,” he says, “I will make you wish you’d never met me.”

His voice is sweet but the words send a shiver down your spine. You have no doubt that he would follow through on his promise should he deem it necessary. And as much as you love pushing him, seeing how he reacts; love being on the other end of him at his very worst, you're not in the mood for that now. Right now, you just want to be fucked. And you're going to do everything you can to make it happen.

He thrusts again, a soft groan escaping his lips and you lean into it, taking everything he gives you until he comes with a groan, unloading into your mouth. You swallow it all, careful not to miss a drop as he watches you with dark eyes. When he’s done he pulls out, grabbing the back of your hair and pulling your face towards his cock.

“Lick it clean,” he says.

You obey, licking every inch of his cock until it’s as good as new.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your groan, rubbing your head against Seonghwa’s legs and he runs a gentle hand through your hair. “Took that so well, baby. Gonna fuck you soon.”

Oh thank God. “Please,” you cry and Seonghwa chuckles.

The hand in your hair suddenly turns rough and then it’s pulling you from where you kneel and up towards Seonghwa, until you stand on unsure feet, staring right into his dark, blazing eyes.

“Be a good girl for me, will you?”

Before you can react, he’s dragged you to the edge of the couch and shoved you forward. You blush — as if you have any shame left in you — and settle into the familiar position. Bent over the couch. Exactly where he wants you. Exactly where you belong.

You feel his presence behind you, feel his stare on your back as you adjust to the new position, and it feels exposed, vulnerable, but at the same time safe and secure. He’s silent, but his heavy breathing shows he wants you just as much as you want, need, crave him. But he doesn’t move. You know what he’s doing. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to be ready. Waiting for the right moment to take what he wants.

When the moment comes, he doesn’t hesitate. He pounces, like a predator ready to devour its prey. And right now, that’s exactly what he is.

A firm hand presses into your back, immobilising you. His other hand traces your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to your pussy and you clench around his hand, already dripping.

“What to do with you?” He mumbles.

“You know what I want,” you mutter.

Seonghwa laughs and presses a finger to your pussy. He makes a noise of surprise when he finds you already wet and pulls away slightly. You whine at the loss and his hand returns, but this time, he doesn’t waste a second before slipping a finger in. You gasp, kneeling further forward and he chuckles.

“Do I?”

“Fuck me, Seonghwa,” you says. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

Seonghwa stills behind you and you can see the smile forming on his face. You know him well enough to know that what he does next is going to be nothing less than torture.

“Anything, huh?” He asks, voice playful and almost dangerous.

You squirm, almost wanting to take it back. It’s true, you nothing but to be fucked. But something about the tone of his voice, the way he says those dangerous words, has you curious. He’s already taken you further than you’ve ever gone tonight and you’re unsure how much you can handle. But he’s also never been hotter than this and you want him, need him inside you. Filling you to the brim.

“Anything, sir.”

“Oh, dear,” he says. “Surely by now you’d know better than to say things like that.”

“I should,” you whisper. “But you know I don’t.”

“Yes I do,” Seonghwa says. “I also know that as soon as I get my dick out you lose the ability to think. Isn’t that right?”

You nod, so desperate to get fucked that you eagerly agrees with his degredations. He laughs softly, amused by your unravelled state.

“Mhm. All you can think about is my dick. How it would feel inside you.” He presses a second finger to your pussy, lets it linger for a second before slipping it inside and you gasp at the feeling. “How it would fuck you. That’s all sluts like you think about, isn’t it?”

“Fuck, sir,” you moan.

Seonghwa chuckles, pulling your head back and planting a soft kiss to the top. “Oh, I know, baby,” he whispers. “Gonna put another one in now. And you’re gonna take it like a good little slut should be trained to do.”

The third finger slides in before you can respond and you choke, lurching forward. He tuts, pressing down on your hip to keep you in place.

“Nice and still for me, baby,” he says. “Just like I’ve taught you.”

You do your best, lying limp in place as he pumps in and out of you. A million sensations fill you at once and you eventually start to squirm, unable to keep them inside. Seonghwa notices, pausing to lean over you to whisper in your ear.

“When do you come, baby?” He asks.

“When you— fuck, sir.” You throw your head back when he hits your spot with particular precision and Seonghwa grabs your hair, tugging your head back to meet his gaze.

“I’ll ask you again,” he says darkly. “When do you come?”

You moan, writhing slightly in place. “When you say so.”

“When I say so,” he says, satisfied. “And not a moment before. Clench it.”

You squeak, doing your best to tighten yourself around his thick fingers while they continue to pump in and out of you at a punishing pace. You feel his eyes on your pussy and he lets out an affected-sounding noise as you clench around him. “I have no fucking idea,” he grunts, “how you’re still so fucking tight after all this time.”

You groan, voice strangled now as you feel yourself hurtling towards a climax. You’re in no position to respond to him now, not verbally at least, and he recognises that, laughing softly. “God, baby,” he groans. He keeps up his pace, unwavering as he opens you up — in, out, in, out without a break. “I could stretch you out all day and I’d still need to do it again ever. Damn. Time.” He emphasises each word with his fingers and it’s almost too much.

He notices, pressing his other hand down on your back, holding you still against the arm of the couch. “No coming,” he grunts. “Not yet.”

You nod through tears, the only word you can form is his name; over and over again like a prayer. He slows down slightly, letting you breathe and softly asking you for your colour — green, of course, without hesitation — before he starts up again. He eases you back into it but wastes little time, and soon you’re back where you were, hurtling uncontrollably towards your orgasm.

He recognises the signs, observant as ever but lets you suffer for a few more minutes, pushing you to the brink before abruptly pulling his fingers out, leaving you empty and dripping beneath him. You must look pathetic, but you know he loves it. You love it too.

With the strength you have left you turn your head to see your boyfriend standing tall behind you, eyes fixed on you. He keeps eye contact as he inserts each of his soaked fingers into his mouth, sucking the juice off of them one by one. Seonghwa’s always loved the way you taste and as time goes on he’s only gotten more addicted. It's his favourite place to be; kneeling between your legs, each of his hands forcing your thighs apart with his mouth latched onto your pussy, tasting every part of it. He can — and does — stay there for hours. But you can tell from the look in his eyes that tonight he has no such plans.

“It’s so good, baby,” he grins. “Know what you taste like?”

You shake your head and he laughs. He walks closer to you, leaning down to reach your level where you’re still awkwardly bent over the couch. There’s a cocky yet admiring lilt in his voice when he speaks. “Like a slut.”

You make a guttural noise, embarrassed, aroused and proud and he laughs. “Do you want a taste?” He asks.

You nod fervently and he runs his other hand through your hair and down to lightly grip the back of your neck. “Easy, baby,” he says, “you can have it.”

He slips a finger back into you, more carefully this time and it slides in easily with a humiliating squelch. He moves it around inside you, collecting your juices on his finger before pulling it out and feeding it into your mouth. He’s right, you taste good, and you suck on his finger until it’s clean. “Mmm,” he says, “that’s a good slut.”

He pulls his finger out of your mouth with a pop, wiping it down on his black dress pants. He pats your ass, tinged pink from the slaps he’d leisurely rained down on it throughout the evening. “Up,” he says.

You stand on shaking legs, faltering at first but Seonghwa quickly grabs your arms, steadying you and not letting go until he’s certain you can stand independently. He sees the dazed look in your eyes, like you’re in a haze, and smiles. “You’ve been good today,” he says softly. “Well, some of today.”

You smile shyly, avoiding his eyes. “Thank you sir.”

“Look at me,” he says and you look up, meeting his now almost fiery gaze. “You want my dick?”

You exhale, nodding excitedly and he smiles. “And where do you want it, exactly?”

“Sir,” you whine. You know he knows; he’s just furthering your torture as he always does. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Where, pet?” He repeats.

You whine quietly, hanging your head. “My pussy, sir,” you mumble.

He reaches his hand down to cup your pussy and you push into it. His fingers start to move, gently stroking it back and forth and feeling your slick on his fingers, until he pulls away. “Still wet,” he mutters.

You flush, casting your eyes down as you shrug. He smiles, brushing his wet fingers across your lips. He eases them in to let you lick them clean before pulling away. “Get on the couch,” he says, “stick your ass.”

You perk up, squeaking out a ‘yes sir’ before scrambling into position. Seonghwa watches you with an amused expression before taking his place behind you. He pulls his dick out, slapping it against your ass cheeks before he pulls them apart and settles so his dick is pressed against your pussy, soaking up the juices but not quite going in. You whine, wriggling desperately to try and get some friction but he slaps you ass, stilling you. “Don’t be desperate,” he says.

You nod, resting your head on the back of the couch and trying to seem patient. He takes his sweet time, teasing your pussy with his fingers and cock before he finally plunges it in.

Your wetness makes it easier but his size means getting used to him is always a challenge. You feel the stretch as he goes in deeper, just slight enough to be pleasant. It doesn’t take him long to ease all the way in and his dick presses against your spot deliciously. You moan loudly, a guttural sound, and he grabs your hair. He doesn’t speak as he starts to move, focusing on his thrusts as they gradually increase in speed and power until he’s pounding you. Each time he slams into you it makes your whole body shake, moving uncontrollably in tandem with him. You groan, scream and cry as it gets more and more intense and he grunts, only spurred to go faster. After an evening of teasing you know you won’t be able to take this for long and he seems to feel the same. He grunts, shouts and splutters with each movement, losing control of himself the longer he’s in you, the more of a mess you become.

“S-Seonghwa!” You shout, gripping the back of the couch so hard your knuckles turn white.

“F-fuck, I got you,” Seonghwa says. “I got you, my girl.”

You cry out, throwing your head back with lips parted in pleasure. There’s nothing now except you and Seonghwa, the expert blend of pain and pleasure only he can provide you and it’s pure bliss. You could stay like this forever; used and abused and adored by him in whichever way he pleases. And so could he.

He’s relentless as he slams into your cervix again and again and soon it starts to get too much. You feel the tears start to prickle at your eyes and you sniffle, crying louder. He notices, pressing a wet, desperate kiss to your lips as he speeds up. “Take it,” he grunts. “Take it for me, puppy. Make me proud.”

You nod through tears, gritting your teeth as he keeps going. You do your best to stay still, only moving when he makes you, and he presses kisses to the back of your head and neck as he goes.

Eventually you feel him at his edge, on the verge of orgasm and you gather your strength to push back, fucking back into him. As you do so you clench your walls around him, squeezing his cock and he shouts. He lasts a few more thrusts, making them as brutal and pleasurable as possible, before he comes with a yell, unloading inside you. You take it all, though it feels more than usually, and he fucks you through it with grunted praises that you can’t quite decipher. He stays still inside you for a minute or so, pressing kisses down your back before he starts to pull out.

“Keep it in,” he says. When his dick finally pulls out completely

You feel his come start to spill out of you, trickling down your thighs and you whine. Seonghwa tuts. He uses two fingers to gather the cum that’s trickling out of you and pushes it back in. The feeling of his fingers in your pussy again makes you gasp as he kisses your back.

“Come on,” he mutters. He wraps his arms around your body, still kneeling in the position he’d left you, and pulls you into his arms. He takes a seat on the couch and settles you in his lap, your head resting in the crook of his neck as he starts to rock you back and forth.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “That was incredible, baby.”

“Seonghwa,” you mutter, still fucked out and exhausted.

He chuckles, kissing your head. “Seonghwa’s right here, honey. I’m not leaving.”

He speaks low and gently to you as he rocks you and it’s peaceful and perfect. Soon he notices your eyes drooping, lulled to sleep by his voice and he smiles. “Goodnight, baby.”

He thinks you’ve learned your lesson.

—————

thank you for reading! please reblog and comment if you enjoyed :) i did proofread but it is long so there may be errors, please forgive them. i’m a little unsure about posting this fic as it contains things ive never written about before; piss isn’t really my thing but i received a request about it and was fine writing about it. so please tell me what you think!

requests are open! love🖤🖤🖤

[starsinmylatte]

Malum in se

Pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None! There's only fluff here :)

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: A lovely anon originally requested this of @pseudowho, but she's asked me to fill it (for those of you not following the saga of Lyria's snow week™️.... I've been completely snowed in and WIPs have kept me sane).

Join my taglist here! (18+ only, this blog is mostly pure filth)

Higuruma Hiromi knew he was truly in love when you successfully convinced him to watch horrifically cheesy reruns of Law and Order while he was the one stuck at home sick. He groaned dramatically at every exaggeration or incorrect legal quote, but he enjoyed how you snuggled into his side too much to actually complain about the situation. After all, you were kind enough to take care of him, and his mild illness had not deterred your affection in the slightest. 

He had almost fallen asleep on the couch when you cocked your head at the antics on the television, murmuring under your breath, “Wouldn’t that qualify as Malum in se, though?” 

Hiromi blinked once, twice, and then a third time before speaking, “I’m sorry, what?” 

You turned to face your boyfriend, tone slightly teasing, “Yeah, Malum in se, right? Things like assault, murder… or wearing white after Labor Day.” 

Hiromi arched an eyebrow at you and treated you to the lopsided grin you adored so much. “You’re going to have to tell me how you know what that is.” 

He snaked his arms around you, pulling you even closer against his warm chest. Before you could answer, he took the chance to nuzzle his nose against the column of your neck, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“Well, pretty girl?” He teased gently, and you dropped your head back against his shoulder, humming contentedly.

“Do you remember when I mentioned I used to do community theatre a few years ago?” You questioned, and you could feel Higuruma's grin grow wider.

“Indeed, I do.”

“Well…. There was one time when I played a character who happened to be a law student.” You pursed your lips, trying to keep laughter from bubbling up. 

Hiromi broke into a barking laugh that became a short coughing fit. “You played a law student? What kind of musical involves lawyers?” he wheezed. 

“It’s called Legally Blonde, and it’s not just a musical… It’s a masterpiece.” You insisted. “I loved the movie when I was a young girl, and getting to play Elle- the main character- was an absolute dream come true.” 

Your eyes lit up as an idea sparked into your brain with the strength of a thunderbolt, “Omigod, you’ve never seen the movie, have you? We absolutely have to watch it.” 

Hiromi chuckled weakly, running his hand through your hair, “I’ve got a better idea… There have to be clips of your performance somewhere, right?” 

“Oh….” you paused for a moment, “It was a few years ago, and I’m sure it wasn’t my best work, but-” 

“There’s nothing I’d rather see than you enjoying yourself and doing what you love,” Hiromi interrupted gently, stroking your hair again.

His lopsided grin turned wolfish,  “Besides… I am sick; I think this is exactly what I need to heal.” 

“If you insist.” You smacked him gently with a pillow to punctuate your words as you left the couch to rummage through the DVDs on the shelf. You even took the time to make another mug of tea for your boyfriend, but eventually, you were back and snuggled up against Hiromi, who gratefully accepted the mug you offered him. 

His nose wrinkled unintentionally as he took a sip, “Thank you… but what is in this stuff?” 

“It’s helping your throat, isn’t it? You poked his stomach playfully, and he groaned in response. 

“Yes, but at what cost?” Hiromi huffed, but the slight twinkle in his eyes told you he wasn’t being serious. 

“It’s throat coat tea, yet another remnant from my musical days,” you giggled. “I never liked the taste either, but it certainly gets the job done.” 

With another flourish of the remote, you pulled up the recording of the show, and you swear you could feel Hiromi smiling behind you as he nursed the warm mug. As soon as the video started, he broke out into another laughter-induced coughing fit. 

“Dear god, I’ve never seen so much pink in my entire life.” 

“Oh, just you wait.” You threatened teasingly, “You haven’t even seen my character yet.” 

Hiromi grasped his mug in one hand and used his other arm to pull you back against his chest, wrapping a blanket snugly around your body. You leaned fully against him, partially because you enjoyed the intimacy and partly because you wanted to see his reactions out of the corner of your eye. 

His reactions did not disappoint, even though the video was grainy and clearly meant to be viewed through the rose-colored lenses of someone who was in the show. Hiromi grinned widely when you appeared on stage, murmuring almost too quietly for you to hear, “Cute…” 

You blushed happily, and the show continued. He had many comments on how the Delta Nus seemed to share a hive mind and how much of a prick Warner was. He also very nearly choked on his tea when your character’s father proudly declared, “Law school is for boring, ugly, serious people!” 

Hiromi glanced down at you after that line with a slight pout, and you took the opportunity to cup his cheek and pull him in for a soft kiss, tasting the tea and honey on his lips. “Mmm, don’t worry… You’re not boring, and you’re certainly not ugly. You can be rather serious… but I like that about you.” 

Hiromi kissed the top of your head with a low, contented hum, absolutely convinced his heart was full enough to burst. He fell more in love with you with each passing day, and these past few days had only further sealed his fate. Even now, he was watching you sing and dance your heart out, and you were shining in the roll. The sassy, playfully cute, but deceptively intelligent lawyer was such a perfect role for you, and he quickly became frustrated with Warner. Seeing you so upset over such a stupid man hurt his heart, even though he knew you were acting…. and then Emmett was introduced. 

“Now, I like that guy. He’s got the right idea, actually treating Elle decently.” Hiromi mused, playfully twirling a strand of your hair. 

“Oh, really?” You grinned slyly. “He reminds me of you, you know.”  

“It seems we share the same excellent taste in women.” 

–

The movie was over a short while later, but Hiromi insisted on letting it play through curtain call so he could properly applaud your work. You rolled over to lay against his chest, peering inquisitively into his dark, beautiful eyes, “So you really liked it?” 

“I loved it,” He assured you, pulling you in for another tea-flavored kiss. Suddenly, you could feel him grinning against your lips, “And I may buy you another one of those pink tweed skirt sets… it was cute on you.” 

His deep chuckle only grew louder as you smacked him with another pillow.

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @khaleesihavilliard @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @pseudowho

[allieisacrybaby]

Loverboy

also, this turned into a fic it's 1.4k words.....hehe

warning: pure fluffy domestic morning sammy shenanigans, like one mild sex implcation but that's it. It's all fluff besides the one comment.

Freezing. It was freezing in your bedroom. Teeth chattering and nose cold, you shivered at the drop in temperature. Rolling over your face-to-face with a sound asleep Sammy wrapped in YOUR sherpa blankey, you huff in annoyance and poke his forehead.

“Sam.” Nothing.

“Sammy!” You whisper-yelled, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him. That did the trick. Furrowing his eyebrows, he peeps an eye open as he reaches an arm out, pulling you into his warm body. 

“Wha-God, baby, why are you so cold?” Sam hissed when you put your frozen hands on his chest and your freezing toes against his shins. 

“‘Cause somebody stole my blankey.” you huffed, tugging at the blanket around his shoulders. 

“Oh…Sorry baby.” he whinces when he realizes he’d taken your favorite blanket in his slumber. Pulling it from his shoulders, he wraps it around your body, tucking it into your sides, pulling it over your head and up to your chin, successfully cocooning you in the blanket.

“Better?” he asks.

“Mmm, so much better. And it's all warm from your body heat. Thank you.” you whisper, nuzzling your face into the blanket's warmth. 

“Come here.” Sam says, pulling you closer into his chest as he rests his chin on your head. You nuzzle further into his heat and preen as your body begins to warm back up. 

“What time is it?” you ask, yawning.

“I don’t know, just go back to sleep, bug.” Sammy whispers.

“Ok.” you yawn one last time and drift back off.

                                                 *   *  *

This time, something wet and cold pressing into the side of your ear wakes you from your slumber. 

“Aht, Rosie, No, over here. Come lay down next to Daddy.” Sammy whisper-yells at her, snapping his finger and pointing to the space by yours and his feet. Whining, the pity obeys and slinks into her spot, curling into a bun and resting her head on your feet. Opening your eyes, you smile at Sammy. 

“How’s my little caterpillar doing?” Sammy chuckles, pulling the blanket he cocooned you in back over your head. 

“Good and warm. Slept like a baby after you swaddled me like one.” 

“I’m glad. I wouldn’t want my girl getting frostbite now.” Sammy smiles, moving a piece of hair from out of your face.

“You know who I feel like right now?” you giggle.

“Who?” 

“Janet and Rita!” you say in a croaky old accent.

“Oh no. Please don't.” Sammy rolls his eyes, wincing.

“Here come the grannies!!” you quote in the croaked accent, wiggling your “witch” fingers at Sammy as you delve your finger into his sides.

“No, please!” He belly laughs as you tickle his tummy and sides. Sam grabs your arms and rolls atop you, pinning your arms to your sides and caging your body in between his legs, successfully stopping your tickle attack.

“You and that damn show!” Sam sighs, shaking his head at you playfully. 

“Don’t lie to me and tell me you haven’t joined Rosie and I while we watched Bluey.” you tease, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. 

“Shut up.” 

It’s the last thing he says before bending down and kissing your lips. You lean into his kiss and sigh out in content. Sammy’s kisses were always deep and sweet, but something about this kiss had a bit more fervor to it that had you chasing his lips as he pulled away. 

“I love you.” he sighs, pressing his forehead into yours.

“I love you too, Sammy.” you whisper against his lips. 

Woof!

“And you too, Miss Rosebud!” you giggle, craning your neck to look at Rose, who is now standing by the closed bedroom door. 

“I guess we don’t have any time to play, huh?” Sam sighs into the crook of your neck.

“Not now. We must feed the baby.” you giggle, running a hand through his bed head. 

“Later?” Sammy asks, pulling his face away from your neck.

“Later.” you promise, biting into your bottom lip. 

Sammy smirks, sealing the deal with a kiss and popping up from the bed.

“Come on, Rose! Let’s go potty and eat!” he yells, clapping his hands together as he exits the bedroom with Rose. 

                                                           *   *  *

You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth and hair, and slip into a comfy sweater and sweatpants before padding into the living room. Walking into the living room, you see Rosie eating by the back door and Sammy cooking at the stove, now wearing a soft blue sweater with his pajama pants. Walking over to him, you wrap your arms around his torso and rest your cheek against his back. 

“Glad you could join us,” Sammy smiles, squeezing your arms that were wrapped around him. 

“I didn’t pick a record because I thought you could do us the honor.”

“Oooooh the highest honor indeed! Thank you, bub. I’ll be right back.” you say, kissing his shoulder blade and padding over to the turn table. 

Crouching down, you brush your finger across the spines of your shared vinyl collection. Landing on one in particular, you pull it from its place and unsheath the record from its protective sleeve. Placing the record down on the turntable, you pick up the needle and place it on a specific song. The sultry vocals of Jimi Hendrix’s “Have You Ever Been (to Electric Ladyland)” fills the quiet. 

You dance back into the kitchen, where Sam has begun plating your breakfast. 

“Ah, so it’s a Jimi kind of morning, I see,” Sammy smirked as you danced around the kitchen, swaying your hips to the music. 

Finishing his plating, he grabs your plates and goes to the kitchen table, placing them in your respective spots. 

Sam rejoins your little dance party, grabbing your waist with both hands and dancing with you as “Gypsy Eyes” begins to play. 

“Well, I realized that I’ve been hypnotized! I love your gypsy eyes. I love your gypsy eyes.” Sam sings, spinning you around to face him. 

As you shimmy and dance around the kitchen and living room, singing and dancing, the song starts to end. 

“Ok, my little gypsy, let's eat.” Sammy chuckles, kissing your nose and patting your ass softly. 

As you finish up your breakfast, so does the record. 

“It’s your turn to pick a record now.” you smile as you pick up your plates and head into the kitchen to clean up. As you begin washing the dishes, you hear the sounds of “Love in Store” by Fleetwood Mac fill the house. 

“Samuel Francis, I know you did not pick this for yourself.” you scold as he walks back into the kitchen.

“You’re right. I picked it for you. I know you love this album, and I wanted to keep the good vibes going.” He smiles, kissing the top of your head. 

Finishing the dishes, you start shimmying again, but now to the sweet melody of “Gypsy.” 

“I’m starting to sense a theme today.” you smile, waltzing into Sammy’s open arms. 

“Mmm, I guess so.” he smiles, swaying the two of you back and forth. 

How did you get so lucky? You smile to yourself as you stare into your lover's eyes. 

She is dancing away from you now

You pull away from his arms and wiggle away, spinning around in Stevie-style circle with your hands stretched out wide. Sam just admires you in your element with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face. As you finish your little dance, your hair is tousled, your cheeks are flushed, and you stand there as you giggle and grin at him. Shaking his head playfully, he stalks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as your arms go around his neck. 

“I love you so so much.” he smiles, eyes glimmering as he looks down at you. 

“I love your spirit and your confidence. I love your smile and that you love music just as much as I do. I love waking up to your silly shenanigans every morning, and I love our little family. I love the life we’ve created and that I get to spend the rest of my days with you. I love you so much, bug,”

“I love you too, Sammy,” you smile, eyes watery and lips pouty. He leans in and kisses you passionately as the song fades out. 

How did you get so lucky?

tagging my loveys who said yes under my post earlier. enjoy :)

@losfacedevil @ascendingtostardust @runwayblues @gretasmokerising

[sloanesallow]

The Call of the Void | Chapter 4

Shy girl meets distracted boy. Chaos ensues. This is my "canon" retelling of Siobhan Sloane and Sebastian Sallow's story. (full synopsis here. Chapter Summary: Sebastian finally notices the new fifth-year. This chapter features art by @puridewart 💛 3.5k words Chapter warnings: Mild Leander-Slander, but that's mostly because this is a Sebastian POV chapter. [Ao3] | [Wattpad] [PREVIOUS] | [NEXT]

IV: D u e l

Sebastian wakes up on Tuesday in a bad mood.

Only a week into the new school year and he’s already regretting the choice to overload his class schedule with extracurriculars, bringing the total to fourteen. Combined with his late-night research in the restricted section on possible cures for Anne, Sebastian is lucky if he sleeps for more than a few hours if he sleeps at all.

The previous evening was supposed to be spent in the library, but instead, he stays up writing forty inches on ancient runes, cursing under his breath at the absurdity of a professor assigning such a task the first week of school. He falls asleep before he can finish, slumped over his dormitory desk, quill in hand. When Ominis wakes him up the following morning, Sebastian’s neck is stiff, fingers stained with ink, and stomach rumbling. The clock in their shared room shows breakfast isn’t possible, not if he wants to be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” he grumbles, shedding the clothes he fell asleep in for a clean set as he weighs the pros and cons of skipping class in favor of leftover toast.

“I did,” Ominis counters, flicking his wand to remove the wrinkles from Sebastian’s uniform. “You told me to quote, eat runes and die.” He turns to leave. “At least, that is what I think you said—your sleep-deprived Gaelic needs some work.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, securing the knot of his Slytherin-green tie as he follows after Ominis, the two walking in amiable silence from the dungeons to the western tower. His eyes are still heavy as he thinks about the day ahead, thankful there are only two classes to suffer through, with the rest of the afternoon and evening to do as he pleases. While sleep is preferable—and desperately needed—he still has several other assignments to work on, readings to complete, and projects to get a head-start on. Not to mention wanting to follow up on a promising lead for Anne, discovered while researching abnormal curses. There simply isn’t enough time in the day. 

He sighs, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.

“Merlin’s sagging arse, Sallow. You look terrible.”

Sebastian clenches his jaw in annoyance as Leander greets him outside the D.A.D.A. classroom. “Prewett.”

The Gryffindor certainly became bolder over the summer, likely due to the growth spurt that finally brought him to the same height as the other fifth-year boys. Sebastian doesn’t want to think Leander’s newfound confidence has anything to do with Miss Morrison—how the gangly redhead managed to woo her is anyone’s guess.

The statues framing the doorway blink as the two exchange similar scowls, only moving when Ominis sighs in the threatening way only he can achieve. Leander doesn’t let up, however, taking advantage of the fact Professor Hecat hasn’t arrived yet.

“Rough night?” he prods. “We missed you at Crossed Wands. Does that mean you’re too busy to defend your title?”

“Like hell!” Sebastian exclaims, catching the way Leander’s eyes widen in alarm, but it’s too late for Prewett to back down now. The reminder of what else he’s missing out on only adds to his stress. Sebastian rolls up his sleeves and brandishes his wand. “No time like the present.”

“Sebastian,” Ominis warns. “No.”

Sebastian laughs, “yes.”

Leander falters, stumbling as he barely deflects Sebastian’s first cast. “No fair, Sallow!” he complains, the two moving into taunting stances on opposite sides of the classroom. “I wasn’t ready!”

“You should know by now that I don’t play fair,” Sebastian counters with a sarcastic chuckle. “Stupify!”

The impromptu duel excites the rest of the class as they arrive, quickly gathering to watch as he and Leander exchange a flurry of spells. It’s frustrating how good Prewett is—he wouldn’t be a member of Crossed Wands otherwise—but Sebastian knows he is better—the best.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunts after blocking the redhead’s attempt to disarm. “Bombarda!”

Leander’s last-second shield charm doesn’t save him from the aftershock of the small explosion, propelling him backward into a large stack of books. His fellow Gryffindor, Cressida Blume, runs to help while the others cheer for Sebastian’s victory. He cockily grins until Professor Hecat appears in the doorway of her office that oversees the classroom. She sighs, shaking her head in disapproval before slowly descending the stairs.

“Perhaps I should be grateful you avoided the Hebridean this time.” Her ire shifts to Leander, who fails at shrugging off Cressida’s fussing. “I see a review in deflection is needed. Let’s begin with the known variations of Protego.”

There are a few mumbles and groans as the professor gestures for the class to cease their gawking. Sebastian slinks back to his assigned seat, noticing briefly that his deskmate is already there, focused and quiet as ever. Sloane—the new fifth-year. He waits to see if she will say anything as he settles onto the bench, but like every day since her arrival, she remains silent.

Odd.

It isn’t like he’s said anything to her either—he hasn’t had a reason to and isn’t one for forcing conversation, especially on an unwilling participant. What little he knows of the new girl is based on unreliable hearsay and his scant observations of her behavior in the last week. At least she seems a little less terrified than before, undoubtedly due to being rescued by Poppy Sweeting. He’d seen her small triumph at Summoner’s Court, but the use of Accio is hardly impressive. The conclusion Sebastian arrives at is that Sloane is not worth his time.

Under different circumstances, he might find it in himself to be cordial, or even friendly, but those carefree days are in the past. Of course, there is a small flicker of curiosity that anything new brings, but he quickly extinguishes the thought, steeling his mind. There is no time—Anne is his focus, and everything else is a temporary distraction.

He switches his attention back to Professor Hecat, even if today’s lesson is redundant, information he taught himself long before it was required. Instead of taking notes, or at least pretending to read along in the textbook, he fiddles with his wand, twirling it between the fingers on his left hand. He starts to imagine all the other things he could be doing right now, like finishing his Ancient Runes assignment or charming a Prefect to look the other way as he digs through Professor Sharp’s supply room, or—his stomach growls—eating breakfast.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Sloane glancing at him, her face contorted in concern. She parts her lips to speak, closes her mouth, and then repeats the action a few times, looking very much like a fish. He might have thought her mute if he hadn’t seen her talking with Poppy in class the day before. Her insufferable shyness reminds him of the first-years who are too nervous to ask him for the common-room password when they’ve forgotten. Mildly perturbed, Sebastian raises an eyebrow, turning his head to look at her directly.

“Can I help you?”

Sloane snaps her gaze back to her notes, scribbling her quill against the parchment, and he leans over slightly to see nonsensical squiggles rather than actual words. Realizing his sudden proximity, she flinches and he immediately pulls away, more perplexed by her demeanor than ever. What he should do is continue to ignore the strange newcomer, but between Hecat’s droning and the girl’s flustered state, he finds the latter more compelling. He continues to look at her, studying her profile and smirking when a flush of pink tints her cheeks.

Cute.

And she is cute, objectively speaking. Sebastian hasn’t given his preferences much thought before, but he isn’t blind. The sunlight spilling in from the windows illuminates Sloane’s ashen-blonde hair—she’s finally cut off the damaged ends, leaving behind a short and wavy crop. The yellow of her jacket makes her look golden, envying Ominis with how tidy her uniform is. She’s pale in a way that accentuates her blush and the dusting of freckles across her cheeks. There’s a faint scar on the bridge of her nose, and he wonders if the cause is magical or mundane.

Her eyes, however, aren’t as doe-like and innocent as he expects; rather, they are a stormy shade of grey with an unsettling depth. A well of sadness, one Sebastian has seen before in his own reflection. Sloane is a kindred spirit, or at least that’s what intuition tells him. His curiosity burns anew. 

He should say something.

Maybe.

Professor Hecat speaks first, preventing further rumination. “Since you were all so keen on using this space as a dueling hall, we will now practice these defenses with each other.”

Her announcement excites the class all over again, everyone moving to stand on either side of the room as Hecat moves their desks aside and raises the long dueling table. Cressida and Sirius Black are the first to demonstrate what they’ve learned, and it takes all but a few exchanges for Miss Blume to knock the Headmaster’s son onto his back. He sneers, flicking dust off his tailored jacket as Cressida flourishes under the attention and praise from her classmates.

Sebastian watches the matches intently, making a mental note to mention the outcomes to Lucan Brattleby at the next Crossed Wands meeting. Everett Clopton and Isaac Cooper are next, showcasing how they ought to stick to flying rather than spellcraft. They are shooed from the table when it becomes apparent they’d rather showboat than have a proper duel. Ominis and Adelaide Oakes follow, and their drastically different dueling styles cause Professor Hecat to declare a draw after five minutes. Thereafter, Aurthur Plummy loses to Grace, and Leander suffers his second public humiliation of the day when Imelda sends him toppling from the table and into the same pile of books as before.

While Cressida and Hecat check to see if Prewett is conscious, Sebastian sees Sloane in his peripheral, fidgeting with her wand. It dawns on him that they are the last pair to participate. She holds the same worried expression that she always does, her eyes wide with panic as they flick back and forth between him and the purple-draped table.

“Have you ever dueled before?” he asks.

Sloane hesitates before shaking her head.

“Well then,” Sebastian smirks as Hecat instructs them to take their places. Maybe the new girl will surprise him. “Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome.”

It isn’t until Sebastian turns around in his spot to face his opponent that his bravado fades at the sight of Sloane, her demeanor reminiscent of her arrival to the opening feast. Nervousness is one thing, but Merlin, she looks miserable and afraid, her petite stature doing nothing to help the situation. 

Pride won’t allow him to go easy on her—she has to learn somehow, right? Still, he hesitates, even as Professor Hecat allows them to begin. Sloane glances down at her hands before gripping her wand a little tighter, raising her arm defensively. Knowing she is unlikely to cast first, Sebastian flicks his wrist, almost thankful when she blocks the blast of magic at the last possible moment.

She stumbles backward, rebounding when she more easily deflects his second attack. Sebastian relaxes, wondering if the new fifth-year really is the prodigy rumors claim her to be and is hiding her talents behind a meek facade.

He tests this theory, casting with more conviction. “Stupify!”

Her shield charm appears without an incantation, and he’s stunned long enough that her basic cast slips past his Protego. Sebastian staggers, widening his stance to avoid falling over. He’s been hit by all sorts of spells in his lifetime, but whatever power Sloane possesses feels different—unnerving and pleasant at the same time.

The strange sensation doesn’t stop him from returning fire, the class collectively gasping as she fails to protect herself in time. Sloane takes the full brunt of his magic, yelping as she’s sent flying off the end of the table. Even though he’s just won the dual, victory feels hollow. Sebastian may have the reputation as Hogwarts’ best duelist, but he won’t be known as a bully.   

Before he realizes what he’s doing, Sebastian rushes down the length of the table, hopping off the edge in time to see Sloane slowly pushing herself off the ground, clearly dazed by the outcome. She rubs the back of her head, wincing in pain. Guilt churns his stomach and he reaches out, offering his hand.

“Here,” he murmurs, hoping he looks as non-threatening as possible.

Sloane stares up at him with glossy, storm-cloud eyes and the sight makes his chest weigh heavy with shame. He can’t tell if her unshed tears are from embarrassment or a bruised skull. She shakily reaches up and Sebastian can’t blame her hesitation, grasping her hand to hoist her upright. As soon as she is standing, her gaze darts away, and before he can ask if she’s alright he is being pushed away by another flash of yellow as Adelaide arrives to help.

“That is enough for today,” Professor Hecat announces, dismissing the class with a wave of her hand. “Please continue to review and practice your defensive spells without hurting each other.”

Sebastian frowns and looks down at his right hand, flexing his fingers as they tingle. He lingers, eavesdropping as Hecat offers some encouragement to Sloane before suggesting that Adelaide take her to the hospital wing for a quick exam.

“You as well, Mr. Prewett,” she says, just before the Gryffindor wobbles out of the classroom. He groans, rubbing his temple as Cressida happily offers to escort him. Just as Sebastian moves to leave as well, Professor Hecat clears her throat. “Mr. Sallow.”

He stops and slowly turns, attempting to charm the professor with a cheeky smile. She isn’t impressed, hands on her hips as she shakes her head. Perhaps one day, he won’t be such a disappointment.

“Yes, Professor?” he inquires, feigning innocence. Hecat rolls her eyes, unimpressed.

“I have a request for you,” she starts, clasping her hands. “It appears our newest student could use some help with her studies. Are you familiar with Miss Sloane outside of class?”

Sebastian wonders if Hecat is making the assumption based on his chivalrous behavior. He lifts a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “Not really,” he answers, even though the real answer is not at all.

“No matter,” she dismisses his response. “Perhaps you’d be willing to invite her to that little dueling club you think is a secret from the staff.”

“What?” he says, in disbelief, shaking his. “You have to actually be good at dueling to join Crossed Wands.”

“So that is what you call it,” Professor Hecat’s sly smile makes Sebastian nervous. “But that is exactly my point, Mr. Sallow. Miss Sloane needs to catch up with the rest of her peers, and what better way to accomplish that than to be tutored by the best?”

Sebastian should be flattered by the compliment, but he remains reluctant to agree. “Might I think about it?” he asks, unsure if even he has the time to attend Brattleby’s club, let alone take Sloane under his wing. Maybe he can set her up with Onai—she’s talented enough, and the two are more likely to get along.

“So,” he drags the word out in an attempt to change the subject, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Am I—”

“Still in trouble?” Professor Hecat finishes, and he swears she looks amused by the situation. “Yes.”

“But—”

“I warned you about using unsanctioned spells in my classroom, Mr. Sallow,” she reminds and he sighs, knowing she is right. “Not to worry, as soon as his head clears, Mr. Prewett will be spending the next several days organizing and repairing the books he damaged.”

It’s never been easy for Sebastian to apologize. “I—” he swallows thickly. “I’m sorry, Professor Hecat.”

She nods curtly. “Good. Now, run along. I’ll let Professor Binns know to expect you this evening.”

Detention—Sebastian’s mood worsens as he finally leaves the classroom. He should’ve gone to breakfast.

|_ | _ | _ | _|

After devouring his evening meal in the great hall, Sebastian begrudgingly makes his way to the dungeons, but instead of returning to the Slytherin common room for the evening, he diverts toward the familiar door at the end of a long hall. The detention chamber is a dark, cramped room, full of old desks and oddities from a bygone era. He eyes the stockade in the corner and shivers, grateful he didn’t attend Hogwarts when the torture of students was permitted.

Sebastian is surprised to see Professor Weasley instead of the ghostly Binns, and she greets him with a cordial smile, even as she confiscates his wand. It’s only for the next few hours, but the separation creates an uncomfortable knot in his chest. He sighs, flopping down into the least dusty bench, unceremoniously dropping his satchel on the desk in front of him. He waits to see if anyone else enters the room, but of course, he’s the only one with detention this evening. The school year has only just begun—this must be a new record.

He glances at the clock—three hours until curfew. Easy enough.

For the first hour, he finally finishes his assignment for Ancient Runes, pleased with the results. Next, he reads through an old tome, carefully moving the pages so they don’t turn to dust. Most of the text is in Sanskrit, which even Sebastian cannot begin to fathom how to translate. Still, there is much to be gleaned from the diagrams and drawings of ancient rituals depicting what he can only guess is dark magic.

“Mr. Sallow.”

Sebastian flinches, momentarily worried he’ll be caught with such an illicit book. He pretends to be taking notes as if it is just another one of his many coursebooks, anxiously glancing up as Professor Weasley stands to approach.

“I have a request for you,” she says and he nearly tells the professor to queue up behind Hecat. Instead, he neatly folds his hands over the tome in a poor attempt to disguise its true contents.

“What kind of request?” he asks, already suspicious.

Professor Weasley flashes another polite smile. “This concerns our newest student—”

“Sloane?” he confirms with a raised eyebrow. It has to be a coincidence.

“Why, yes,” the Deputy Headmistress replies. “You share many classes—are you—”

“Not at all,” Sebastian interrupts, biting his tongue when her expression falters. “I mean…” he taps his fingers against the desk. He and Sloane are in a lot of the same classes, but he isn’t interested in anything more. Especially after today’s events, he is likely a jerk to be avoided at all costs.

“I’d like you to escort Miss Sloane to Hogsmeade tomorrow afternoon,” she explains, ignoring his distressed state. “And before you worry about your classes, I have already sent an owl excusing your absence.”

Sebastian frowns. Why is he, out of all the students in the school, suddenly being trusted with such responsibility? “Are you certain?”

Professor Weasley nods.

“Is this punishment?” he asks next.

“No, do you think it is punishment?”

Sebastian doesn’t answer.

“You need a distraction, Mr. Sallow,” she sighs, and he realizes very quickly she—and perhaps the other professors—mean to keep him busy so that he stays out of trouble in his endeavor to cure Anne. Solomon—he grumbles to himself, knowing his uncle has something to do with this.

“You know the area, and understand how important it is to avoid danger,” Professor Weasley continues. “Victor Rookwood may be terrorizing the Highlands, but Hogwarts and the Hogsmeade village will be safe.”

Sebastian still isn’t convinced but doesn’t bother with arguing. He relents with a small nod, lips pursed in a straight line. “Fine.”

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Sallow,” the Headmistress speaks in a softer, kinder tone. “Despite your penchant for detention, you are one of the few students I can trust to be kind to the young miss.”

Ironic, considering what he’d done that morning. Kindness usually doesn’t result in concussions. Sebastian suddenly finds himself thinking about Sloane’s sad eyes and the sympathy he felt towards her at that moment. Maybe Professor Weasley is right, and he is kind, without even realizing it. His reputation could be worse, but first impressions are everything and he’d already made an utter arse of himself.

Tomorrow, he’d find out for certain.

Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated 💛

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

When a Stranger Calls Dieter

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 757

Summary: when you get unwanted attention from an unwanted man, Dieter helps out. Inspired by this post!

Warnings: mild swearing, men being creepy, mild horror themes, saucy suggestions at the end

Check out masterlist here

Dieter looked at the clock on his phone. He knew by now that you would be home. If anything did hold you up, he would be the first to know. As soon as he was starting to worry, his phone rang.

“Dieter?” he could barely hear you.

“Where are you?”

“Um…”

He could tell by the tone of your voice that you were close to tears. “What’s wrong?”

“Some creep at the bookstore won’t let me leave until I give him my number.”

“Can you report him to someone that works there?”

“He is someone that works there.”

He sighed in frustration, never at you though, at this creep he never met. “Seriously?”

“I told him I have a boyfriend, but he doesn’t believe me, and I don’t know what else to do,” you were on the edge of panic.

“Can you give him a fake number?”

You sighed in anger, “Oh, he said he knows all the tactics girls play, I quote, and that sort of thing won’t work on him.”

“Give him my number.”

“What?”

“Give him my number. You know it don’t you?”

“Yeah, but are you sure?”

“Oh, I’m sure honey cakes.”

*****

As soon as you walked in the door, you were enveloped in the warm, musky embrace of your boyfriend.

“Are you okay?” Dieter asked.

You let out a sigh into his chest, “All I wanted was to get the latest Stephen King book.”

He kissed the top of your head, “I’ve run you a scolding hot bath.”

He heard a mumbled “I love you” before you eventually left his embrace.

The water hit all the right spots and helped soothe any tension you felt in the past few hours.

“You feeling any better?” he asked. The water was too hot for Dieter so he was keeping you company just sitting next to the bathtub, letting you soak.

The massive groan you gave out was indicative of how much better you were feeling. Suddenly you heard Dieter’s phone ringing, reloading any tension that washed away.

He picked it up, putting it on speaker.

“Hey book babe…” that voice sent ripples of disgust down your spine.

“Who is this?” Dieter asked.

“Oh,” the voice on the other end asked after you. “Do I have the right number? That bitch-“

“No this is the right number,” Dieter said. “I haven’t heard that name in a while.”

“What do you mean?”

“She died ten years ago.”

“What?”

“It was a car accident. Someone kept trying to ring her number and she took her eyes off the road for one second and…” he wiped away a fake tear, it was an Oscar-winning performance from your bathroom. “It was exactly this day, this hour when it happened.”

“Oh,” he seemed to believe this.

“Please tell me you’re not driving.”

“I am but..”

“I shouldn’t have picked up the phone.” If this was a film the scary music would most certainly start playing now. “This phone only rings when-don’t look in the rearview mirror. Keep your eyes on the road. She only does this when-No, please, I’ve done what you ask, don’t-!”

And then he hung up.

You could finally let out the laugh you were holding. “What was that?”

Dieter shrugged, “I’ve probably seen one too many of your favourite films and it gave me an idea. Do you think I scared him?”

“I think you did. I hope you did.”

“I hope she shit his pants.”

“Thank you,” you said, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Anything for you honey cakes.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Hey, I’d scare off any creep that comes even remotely in your path because you’re the love of my life. And also, it’s so much fun.”

“Well, when the next one comes round, I’ll definitely send them your way.”

“I hope no more creeps show up,” he dipped his fingers into the water, swirling them around suggestively.  “But if you have suggestions for the next way to scare them, I’d love to hear them.”

“I may have a few ideas,” you lifted your foot out of the bathtub and he gently grabbed your foot to kiss it.

“You feeling better honey cakes?”

“Much better.”

He moved his hand further up your leg, “Want to feel extra better?”

“Are you wanting to join me in the bath?”

“I think it’s still too hot for me.”

“Such a shame.”

“I could just put a towel on the bed and help you feel good until you dry up.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @brilliantopposite187 @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @cevans-is-classic @glshmbl @cupcakehp

[lostdreamr-blog1]

A Ghost Playing Hangman {J.Seresin} Part 7

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning: mild swearing, lots of fluff ahead

A/N: Always love to hear your thoughts and comments as the story goes on! So much more in store for you all! My inbox is always open for you. Thanks for reading!!

-C

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9

The two of you had sat on the beach for as long as you needed. Jake didn’t pressure you to head back to the bar, which had you thinking back to what Bradley said earlier. You pulled your head back some from his chest and asked, “Why do you make it seem like you’re an asshole when you really aren’t?”

You felt his chest rumble with a laugh, “Thank you for sugar coating that question, Darlin.” You offered him a small smile, still feeling beat up from the day. “Figured you would want it straight up.”

His hand gently pushed your head back to his chest and absently played with your hair. It was a small gesture that you would be smiling about for days to come.

“This is going to sound dumb when I say it out loud, but I read once that if you got tough, nothing can hurt you. That if you looked out for yourself, no one could touch you. And I don’t know why, but it seemed to stick with me. I come from a military family, and it felt like nothing I did could live up to their expectations. After years of busting my ass to show them I was good enough for the family name, I finally gave up. I saw that quote and knew I needed to do that. Since then, I’ve made sure I was one of the best and that everyone around me knew it. Less disappointment that way.”

While you didn’t come from a military family, you understood where he was coming from. The constant disappointment could eat away at you, and it was easier to pretend like it wasn’t there. Holding everyone at an arm’s length had become second nature to you for that exact reason. Can’t lose anyone close or have to meet expectations when no one truly cares about you.

“It makes sense. I think you have met the one person who actually gets where you are coming from. Ever wonder why I don’t have many friends?”

His response back made you playfully slap his arm, “Just thought you were a bit awkward in social situations.”

While it might have been true, you weren’t always like this. “I was a different person before I lost my WSO. I went out constantly, always looking for a good time. It felt like I was surrounded by friends and had more of a carefree attitude. Losing him had my view of the world change and I shut down. This detachment is the first time I’ve hung out with other pilots, and I think I miss it. I miss the social connection with others.”

He didn’t respond for a few moments but pulled you closer. Letting you know that he was here for you. And in that moment, you felt something you hadn’t felt in years.

Safe.

Jake had offered to drive you home, but you didn’t want to leave your car here over night. Which is why you found yourself alone behind the wheel, blasting music to stay awake. The second you had pulled out of the parking lot, exhaustion hit you like a bus making you wish you had taken him up on his offer. But as stubborn as you were, you were determined to make it home by yourself.  

Ten of the longest minutes later, you pulled into the apartment complex thanking the lord above for getting you there in one piece. You checked your phone as you got out of the car and saw one unread text from Jake.

Text me when you get home, please. I know how tired you must be.

You fired off a quick text back letting him know you were home safe, and nearly collapsed on the couch. Five minutes, you told yourself before you would get up and get ready for bed. But it took less than that to fall asleep.

A loud banging had you jolt awake. Confusion quickly set over you as you tried to figure out what the hell was going on. The banging started again, and you realized it was the door. Who would be knocking this late at night?  

You opened the door to find a cleanly dressed Hangman and your mind was reeling with questions.

“Morning, sweetheart. Thought I would bring you some coffee to start your day.” You watched as he held up the cup and it finally clicked what he said.

“Morning?” You turned around and looked at the clock on the wall. 05:35.

“Oh fuck!” You left the door open for him as you started running around your apartment, trying to get ready in the next five minutes. How you managed to sleep through your alarm, you had no idea. But then it clicked. You were stupid enough to fall asleep before setting it and if it wasn’t for the gorgeous man at the door, you would still be sleeping.

While you were moving around like a crazy person, you missed the amused look on Jakes face as he watched you. The normally put together pilot he had come to adore was long gone in this moment. And he couldn’t get enough of it.

You cursed under your breath as you stubbed your toe on the coffee table, trying to grab a hair tie you left out. “Slow down, killer. You have plenty of time.” You jumped at the laughing voice, forgetting Jake was here and shook your head.

“Not if I want to get a few runs in before roll call.” You continued getting ready until his voice stopped you. “Admiral Simpson called a meeting for this morning. Which means no flying beforehand.”

You gave him a head tilt, silently asking him to explain. “You now know as much as I do. He sent an email this morning to the group. Have no idea what it’s about.”

At those words, you gave up on getting ready and sat at the table where Jake was. He handed you the coffee and a small bag. “Grabbed a bagel on the way out. Didn’t know if you were a breakfast person or not.” This man was so much more than you initially gave him credit for.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You grabbed the bagel and took a few bites out of it.

“A normal person would say thank you.” He gave you his signature smirk and you shook your head.

“Thank you for the wakeup call. Lord knows how long I would’ve slept before I woke up.” His eyes softened at the statement knowing you needed sleep after yesterday. “Eat up, Darlin. I’ll drive us to base.”

Things between the two of you had changed and it seemed like time was moving too fast for you to fully figure it out. But you did as he said and the two of you were headed to base in the next 5 minutes.  

The drive would only take about fifteen minutes, but you had to ask what was going on between the two of you.

“Jake, what is this?” You watched him take a few breaths and wished his aviators were off. It was easier to read him when you could see his eyes.

“What do you want this to be?” Answering your question with a question was his way of avoiding, but one of you needed to be forward.

“Look, I haven’t let someone into my life in a very long time. The job we have makes things like this tough because we know the risks. But last night on the beach, you made me feel safe. And that feeling hasn’t happened in God knows how long. There is a big part of me that hopes what is happening between us is real, but another part of me is scared to let you in because I don’t know what I would do if I lost you too.”

Jake pulled his truck over to the side of the road and put it in park. You couldn’t help but look at the time and he waved a hand at it. “We have time for this talk. I promise.” You glanced up at him and saw his body facing you. Nerves fluttered in your stomach, and you had no idea where they just came from.

“I wanted you from the moment you snapped at me the first day of this detachment. Now it took me a while to understand that, but yesterday put everything into perspective for me. Almost losing you made me realize just how bad I have it for you and I’ll be damned if I let you walk away without a fight, sweetheart. Yeah, this job is dangerous. But you have to trust the fact that we are two of the best pilots out there and it is going to take a whole damn lot to bring us down. Let me show you love the way you deserve. Because darlin, I’m crazy about you and you don’t even realize it.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. How is it that the man everyone has talked down about for being selfish has proven to be one of the most selfless people you know? At the beginning of training, you wouldn’t trust this man as your wingman. But now, you were willing to trust him with your heart.

“You have to promise me you’ll come back. After every deployment, mission, and training session. You have to come back to me.”

He leaned forward with his hand cupping your cheek, “Darlin, I promise I will do everything in my power to come right back to you. But you sure as hell better do the same for me.” All you could do was nod your head at him as you took a few deep breaths.

“I’m scared, Jake.” And it was the truth. You both knew what was about to happen in a few weeks and giving yourself to him made it seem like you were testing fate.

“Let me show you that you shouldn’t be.” He leaned forward and softly kissed your lips. In this moment everything felt perfect.

But perfect moments don’t always last forever.

Tag list: @blue-aconite @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @rosiahills22 @dempy @rebekahjonesx @luckyladycreator2 @fangirling-4-ever @multi-fandom5 @coyotesamachado

[eiirisworkshop]

The Fanfic Author's Guide to Metatext

(As Used on Ao3) by Eiiri

Also available as a PDF here. This thing is 13,000 words.  The PDF is recommended.

Intro: What is Metatext?

Metatext is everything we fanfic authors post along with our story that is not the story itself: title, tags, summary, author's notes, even the rating.

It is how we communicate to potential readers what they're signing themselves up for if they choose to read our story, how we let them make informed decisions regarding which fics they want to read, how we get their interest and, frequently, how they find our story in the first place. A lot of metatext acts as a consent mechanism for readers, it's the informed part of informed consent.

Since most of us who write fanfic also read it, we understand how important this is! But, for the most part, no one ever teaches us how to use metatext; we have to pick it up by osmosis. That makes it hard to learn how to use it well, we all suck at it when we first start out, and some of us may go years without learning particular conventions that seem obvious to others in our community. This creates frustration for everybody.

Enter this guide!

This is meant to be a sort of handbook for fic writers, particularly those of us who post on Archive of Our Own, laying out and explaining the established metatext conventions already in use in our community so we (and our readers!) are all on the same page. It will also provide some best-practices tips.

The point is to give all of us the tools to communicate with our audience as clearly and effectively as possible, so the people who want to read a story like ours can find it and recognize it as what they're looking for, those who don't want to read a story like ours can easily tell it's not their cup of tea and avoid it, nobody gets hurt, and everybody has fun—including us!

Now that we know what we're talking about, let's get on with the guide! The following content sections appear in the order one is expected to provide each kind of metatext when posting a fic on Ao3, but first….

Warning!

This is a guide for all authors on Ao3. As such, it mentions subject matter and kinds of fic that you personally might hate or find disgusting, but which are allowed under the Archive's terms of use. There are no graphic descriptions or harsh language in the guide itself, but it does acknowledge the existence of fic you may find distasteful and explains how to approach metatext for such fics.

Some sexual terminology is used in an academic context.

A note from the author:

This guide reflects the conventions of the English-language fanfiction community circa 2021. Conventions may differ in other language communities, and although many of our conventions have been in place for decades (praise be to our Star Trek loving foremothers) fanfiction now exists primarily in the realm of internet fandom where things tend to change rather quickly, so some conventions in this guide may die out while other new conventions, not covered in this guide, arise.

This is not official or in any way produced by the Archive of Our Own (Ao3), and though some actual site rules are mentioned, it is not a rulebook. Primarily, it is a descriptivist take on how the userbase uses metatext to communicate amongst ourselves, provided in the interest of making that communication easier and more transparent for everyone, especially newer users.

Contents

How To Use This Guide Ratings Archive Warnings Fandom Tags Category Relationship Tags Character Tags Additional Tags Titles Summaries Author's Notes Series and Chapters Parting Thoughts

How To Use This Guide

Well, read it.  Or have it read to you.

This isn't a glossary, it's a handbook, and it's structured more like an academic paper or report, but there's lots and lots of examples in it!

Many of these examples are titles of real media and the names of characters from published media, or tags quoted directly from Ao3 complete with punctuation and formatting.

Some examples are more generic and use the names Alex, Max, Sam, Chris, Jamie, and Tori for demonstration purposes. In other generic examples, part of an example tag or phrase may be sectioned off with square brackets to show where in that tag or phrase you would put the appropriate information to complete it.  This will look something like “Top [Character A]” where you would fill in a character's name.

This guide presumes that you know the basics of how to use Ao3, at least from the perspective of reading fic. If you don't, much of this guide may be difficult to understand and will be much less helpful to you, though not entirely useless.

Ratings

Most fanfic hosting sites provide ratings systems that work a lot like the ratings on movies and videogames.

Ao3's system has four ratings:

General

Teen

Mature

Explicit

These seem like they should be pretty self-explanatory, and the site's own official info pop-up (accessible by clicking the question mark next to the section prompt) gives brief, straightforward descriptions for each of them.

Even so, many writers have found ourselves staring at that dropdown list, thinking about what we've written, and wondering what's the right freaking rating for this?  How do I know if it's appropriate for “general audiences” or if it needs to be teen and up? What's the difference between Mature and Explicit?

The best way to figure it out is often to think about your fic in comparison to mainstream media.

General is your average Disney or Dreamworks movie, Cartoon Network or Nickelodeon shows, video games like Mario, Kirby, and Pokemon.

There may be romance, but no sexual content or discussion. Scary things might happen and people might get hurt, but violence is non-graphic and usually mild. Adults may be shown drinking alcohol or smoking tobacco, and some degree of intoxication may be shown (usually played for laughs and not focused on), but hard drug use is generally not shown or discussed.  There is little to no foul language written out and what language there may be is mild, though harsher swears may be implied by narration. There are no explicit F-bombs or slurs.

Teen is more like a Marvel movie, most network television shows (things like The Office, Supernatural, or Grey's Anatomy), video games like Final Fantasy, Five Nights at Freddie's, and The Sims.

There might be some sex and sexual discussion, but nothing explicit is shown—things usually fade to black or are leftimplied. More intense danger, more severe injuries described in greater detail, and a higher level of violence may be present.  Substance use may be discussed and intoxication shown, but main characters are unlikely to be shown doing hard drugs. Some swearing and other harsh language may be present, possibly including an F-bomb or two.  In longer works, that might mean an F-bomb every few chapters.

Mature is, in American terms, an R-rated movie* like Deadpool, Fifty Shades of Grey, The Exorcist, and Schindler's List; certain shows from premium cable networks or streaming services like Game of Thrones, Shameless, Breaking Bad, and Black Sails; videogames like Bioshock, Assassin's Creed, Grand Theft Auto, and The Witcher.

Sex may be shown and it might be fairly explicit, but it's not as detailed or graphic or as much the focus of the work as it would be if it were porn. Violence, danger, and bodily harm may be significant and fairly graphic. Most drug use is fair game. Swearing and harsh language may be extensive.

Explicit is, well, extremely explicit. This is full on porn, the hardcore horror movies, and snuff films.

Sex is highly detailed and graphic. Violence and injury is highly detailed and graphic. Drug use and its effects may be highly detailed and graphic. Swearing and harsh language may be extreme, including extensive use of violent slurs.

Please note that both Mature and Explicit fics are intended for adult audiences only, but that does not mean a teenaged writer isn't going to produce fics that should be rated M or E.  Ratings should reflect the content of the fic, not the age of the author.

Strictly speaking, you don't have to choose any of these ratings; Ao3 has a “Not Rated” option, but for purposes of search results and some other functions, Not Rated fics are treated by the site as Explicit, just in case, which means they end up hidden from a significant portion of potential readers. It really is in your best interest as a writer who presumably wants people to see their stories, to select a rating. It helps readers judge if yours is the kind of story they want right now, too.

Rating a fic is a subjective decision, there is some grey area in between each level. If you're not quite sure where your fic falls, best practice is to go with the more restrictive rating.

*(Equivalent to an Australian M15+ or R18+, Canadian 14A, 18A or 18+, UK 15 or 18, German FSK 16 or FSK 18.)

Warnings

Ao3 uses a set of standard site-wide Archive Warnings to indicate that a work contains subject matter that falls into one or more of a few categories that some readers are likely to want to avoid.  Even when posting elsewhere, it's courteous to include warnings of this sort.

These warnings are:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Major Character Death

Rape/Non-Con

Underage

Just like with the ratings, the site provides an info-pop up that explains what each warning is for. They're really exactly what it says on the tin: detailed descriptions of violence, injury, and gore; the death of a character central to canon or tothe story being told; non-consensual sex i.e. rape; and depictions of underage sex, which the site defines as under the age of 18 for humans—Ao3 doesn't care if your local age of consent or majority is lower than that.

In addition to the four standard warnings above, the warnings section has two other choices:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

These do not mean the same thing and cannot be used interchangeably. “No Archive Warnings Apply” means that absolutely nothing in your fic falls into any of the four standard warning categories. “Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings” means that you the author are opting out of the warning system; your fic could potentially contain things that fall into any and all of the four standard warning categories.

There's nothing wrong with selecting Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings! It may mean that some readers will avoid your fic because they're not sure it's safe for them, and you might need to use more courtesy tags than you otherwise would (we'll talk about courtesy tags later), but that's okay! Opting out of the warning system can be a way to avoid spoilers,* and is also good for when you're just not sure if what you've written deserves one of the Archive warnings. In that case, the best practice is to select either the warning it might deserve or Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, then provide additional information in other tags, the summary, or an initial author's note.

Unless you're opting out of using the warning system, select all the warnings that apply to your fic, if any of them do. So if a sixteen year old main character has consensual sex then gets killed in an accident that you've written out in excruciating detail, that fic gets three out of the four standard warnings: Underage, Major Character Death, and Graphic Depictions Of Violence.

*(Fandom etiquette generally favors thorough tagging and warning over avoiding spoilers. It doesn't ruin the experience of a story to have a general sense of what's going to happen. If it did, we wouldn't all keep reading so many “there was only one bed” fics.)

Fandom Tags

What fandom or fandoms is your fic for?  You definitely know what you wrote it for, but that doesn't mean it's obvious what to tag it as.

Sometimes, it is obvious! You watched a movie that isn't based on anything, isn't part of a series, and doesn't have any spinoffs, tie-ins or anything else based on it. You wrote a fic set entirely within the world of this movie. You put this movie as the fandom for your fic. Or maybe you read a book and wrote a fic for it, and there is a movie based on the book, but the movie is really different and you definitely didn't use anything that's only in the movie. You put the book as the fandom for your fic.

All too often, though, it's not that clear.

What if you wrote a fic for something where there's a movie based on a book, but the movie's really different, and you've used both things that are only in the movie and things that are only in the book?  In that case you either tag your fic as both the movie and the book, or see if the fandom has an “all media types” tag and use that instead of the separate tags.  If the fandom doesn't have an “all media types” tag yet, you can make one! Just type it in.

“All media types” fandom tags are also useful for cases where there are lots of inter-related series, like Star Wars; there are several tellings of the story in different media but they're interchangeable or overlap significantly, like The Witcher; or the fandom has about a zillion different versions so it's very hard, even impossible, to say which ones your fic does and doesn't fit, like Batman. Use your best judgement as to whether you need to include a more specific fandom tag such as “Batman (Movies 1989-1997)” alongside the “all media types” fandom tag, but try to avoid including very many. The point of the “all media types” tag is to let you leave off the specific tags for every version.

In a situation where one piece of media has a spinoff, maybe several spinoffs, and you wrote a fic that includes things from more than one of them, you might want use the central work's “& related fandoms” tag. For example, the “Doctor Who & Related Fandoms” tag gets used for fics that include things from a combination of any era of Doctor Who, Torchwood, and The Sarah Jane Adventures.

And don't worry, from the reader-side of the site the broadest fandom tags are prioritized. The results page for an “all media types” or “& related fandoms” search includes works tagged with the more specific sub-tags for that fandom, the browse-by-fandom pages show the broadest tag for each fandom included, and putting a fandom into the search bar presumes the broadest tag for that fandom.  A search for “Star Wars - All Media Types” will pull up work that only has a subtag for that fandom, like “The Mandalorian (TV).” You don't have to put every specific fandom subtag for people to find your fic.

If you wrote a fic for something that's an adaptation of an older work—especially an older work that's been adapted a lot, like Sherlock Holmes or The Three Musketeers—it can be hard to know how you should tag it. The best choice is to put the adaptation as the fandom, for instance “Sherlock (TV),” then, if you're also using aspects of the older source work that aren't in the adaptation, also put a broad fandom tag such as “Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms.” Do not tag it as being fic for the source work—in our Sherlock example that would be tagging it “Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle”—unless you are crossing over the source work and the adaptation. Otherwise, the specific fandom subtag for the source work ends up clogged with fic for the adaptation, which really is a different thing.

By the same token, fic for the source work shouldn't be tagged as being for the adaptation, or the adaptation's subtag will get clogged.

The same principle applies to fandoms that have been rebooted. Don't tag fic for the reboot as being for the original, or fic for the original as being for the reboot. Don't tag a fic as being for both unless the reboot and original are actually interacting. Use an “& related fandoms” tag for the original if your fic for the reboot includes some aspects of the original that weren't carried over but you haven't quite written a crossover between the two. Good examples of these situations can be seen with “Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)” vs. “Star Trek: The Original Series,” and “She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)” vs. “She-Ra: Princess Of Power (1985).”

Usually, this kind of mistagging as a related fandom happens when someone writes a fic for something that is or has a reboot, spinoff, or adaptation, but they're only familiar with one of the related pieces of media, and they mistakenly presume the fandoms are the same or interchangeable because they just don't know the difference.  It's an honest mistake and it doesn't make you a bad or fake fan to not know, but it can be frustrating for readers who want fic for one thing and find the fandom tag full of fic for something else.

In order to avoid those kinds of issues, best practice is to assume fandoms are not interchangeable no matter how closely related they are, and to default to using a tag pair of the most-specific-possible sub-fandom tag + the broadest possible fandom tag when posting a fic you're not entirely sure about, for instance “Star Trek” and “Star Trek: Enterprise.”

The Marvel megafandom has its own particular tagging hell going on. Really digging into and trying to make sense of that entire situation would require its own guide, but we can go through some general tips.

There is a general “Marvel” fandom tag and tags for both “The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom” and “The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types.” Most of us who write Marvel fic are working with a cherry picked combination of canons from the MCU, various comics runs, both timelines of X-Men movies, and possibly several decades worth of cartoons. That's what these tags are for.

If your cherry picked Marvel fic is more X-Men than Avengers, go for the “X-Men - All Media Types” tag.

If you are primarily working with MCU canon, use the MCU specific tags rather than “all media types” and add specific tags for individual comics runs—like Earth 616 or the Fraction Hawkeye comics—if you know you're lifting particular details from the comics.  If you're just filling in gaps in MCU canon with things that are nebulously “from the comics” don't worry about tagging for that, it's accepted standard practice in the fandom at this point, use a broader tag along with your MCU-specific tag if you want to.

Same general idea for primarily movie-verse X-Men fics. Use the movie-specific tags.

If your fic mostly draws from the comics, use the comics tags. If you're focusing on an individual run, show, or movie series rather than an ensemble or large swath of the megafranchise, tag for that and leave off the broader fandom tags.

Try your best to minimize the number of fandom tags on your Marvel work. Ideally, you can get it down to two or three. Even paring it down as much as you can you might still end up with about five.  If you're in the double digits, take another look to see if all the fandom tags you've included are really necessary, or if some of them are redundant or only there to represent characters who are in the fic but that the fic doesn't focus on. Many readers tend to search Marvel fics by character or pairing tags, it's more important that you're thorough there. For the fandom tags it's more important that you're clear.

If you write real person fiction, you need to tag it as an RPF fandom. Fic about actors who are in a show together does not belong on the fandom tag for that show. There are separate RPF fandom tags for most shows and film franchises. Much like the adaptation/source and reboot/original situations discussed earlier, a fic should really only be tagged with both a franchise's RPF tag and its main tag if something happens like the actors—or director or writer!—falling into the fictional world or meeting their characters.

Of course, not all RPF is about actors. Most sports have RPF tags, there are RPF tags for politics from around the world and for various historical settings, the fandom tags for bands are generally presumed to be RPF tags, and there is a general Real Person Fiction tag.

In order to simplify things for readers, it's best practice to use the general Real Person Fiction tag in addition to your fandom-specific tag. You may even want to put “RPF” as a courtesy tag in the Additional Tags section, too. This is because Ao3 isn't currently set up to recognize RPF as the special flavor of fic that it is in the same way that the site recognizes crossovers as special, so it can be very difficult to either seek out or avoid RPF since it's scattered across hundreds of different fandom tags.

On the subject of crossovers—they can make fandom tagging even more daunting. Even for a crossover with lots of fandoms involved, though, you just have to follow the same guidelines as to tag a single-fandom work for each fandom in the crossover. The tricky part is figuring out if what you wrote is really a crossover, or just an AU informed by another fandom—we'll talk about that later.

There are some cases where it's really hard to figure out what fandom something belongs to, like if you wrote a fanfic of someone else's fanfic, theirs is an AU and yours is about their OC, not any of the characters from canon. What do you do?! Well, you do not tag it as being a fanfic for the same thing theirs was. Put the title of their fic (or name of their series) as the fandom for your fic, attributed to their Ao3 handle just like any other fandom is attributed to its author. Explain the situation in either the summary or the initial author's note. Also, ask the author's permission before posting something like this.

What if you wrote a story about your totally original D&D character? The fandom is still D&D, you want the “Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)” tag.

What if there's not a fandom tag on the Archive yet for what you wrote? Not a problem! You can type in a new one if you're the first person to post something for a particular fandom. Do make sure, though, that the fandom isn't just listed by a different name than you expect. Many works that aren't originally in English—including anime—are listed by their original language title or a direct translation first, and sometimes a franchise or series's official name might not be what you personally call it, for instance many people think of Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials series as The Golden Compass series, so it's best to double check.

What if you wrote an entirely new original story that's not based on anything?  Excellent job, that takes a lot of work, but that probably doesn't belong on Ao3!  The Archive is primarily meant as a repository for fannish content, but in a few particular circumstances things we'd consider Original Work may be appropriate content for the Archive as well. Double check the Archive's Terms of Service FAQ and gauge if what you wrote falls under the scope of what is allowed. If what you wrote really doesn't fit here, post it somewhere else or try to get it published if you feel like giving it a shot.

Category

What Ao3 means by category is “does this fic focus on sex or romance, and if so what combination of genders are involved in that sex or romance?”

The category options are:

F/F

F/M

Gen

M/M

Multi

Other

The F/F, F/M, and M/M categories are for stories focused on pairings of two women, a woman and a man, and two men, respectively.  These refer to sexual and/or romantic pairings.

The Other category is for stories focused on (sexual and/or romantic) pairings where one or both partners are not strictly male or female, such as nonbinary individuals, people from cultures with gender systems that don't match to the Western man-woman system, and nonhuman characters for whom biological sex works differently or is nonexistent, including aliens, robots, and inanimate objects or abstract concepts. There are some problems with treating nonbinary humans, eldritch tentacle monsters, sexless androids, and wayward container ships as all the same category, but it's the system we currently have to work with. Use Additional Tags to clarify the situation.

Multi is for stories in which several (sexual and/or romantic) relationships are focused on or which focus on relationships with multiple partners, including cases of polyamory, serial monogamy, strings of hookups with different people, and orgies.  A fic will also show as “Multi” if you, the author, have selected more than one category for the fic, even if none of those are the Multi category. Realistically, the Archive needs separate “Multiple Categories” and “Poly” options, but for now we have to work with this system in which the two are combined.  Use Additional Tags to clarify the situation.

Gen is for stories that do not contain or are not focused on sex or romance. Romance may be present in a gen fic but it's going to be in the background.  While rare, there is such a thing as a sexually explicit gen fic—solo masturbation which does not feature fantasizing about another character is explicit gen fic; a doctor character seeing a series of patients with sex-related medical needs following an orgy may qualify if the orgy is not shown and the doctor is being strictly professional—but such fic needs to be rated, otherwise tagged, and explained carefully in the summary and/or author's note.

Much like the warnings section, category is a “select all that apply” situation. Use your best judgement. For a fic about a polyamorous relationship among a group of women, it's entirely appropriate to tag it as both F/F and Multi.  A poly fic with a combination of men and women in the relationship could be shown as both M/M and F/M, Multi, or all three. A fic that focuses equally on one brother and his husband and the other brother and his wife should be tagged both M/M and F/M, and could be tagged as Multi but you might decided not to just to be clear that there's no polyamory going on. If you wrote a fic about two characters who are both men in canon, but you wrote one of them as nonbinary, you could tag it M/M, Other, or both depending on what you feel is representative and respectful.

When dealing with trans characters, whether they're trans in canon or you're writing them as such, the category selection should match the character's gender.  If there's a character who is a cis woman in canon, but who you're writing as a trans man, you categorize the fic based on his being a man. If there's a character who is a cis man in canon, but whom you're writing as a trans man, he is still a man and the fic should be categorized accordingly. When dealing with nonbinary characters the fic should really be classed as Other though, by convention, fics about characters who are not nonbinary in canon may be classed based on the character's canon gender as well or instead. When dealing with gender swapped characters—i.e. a canonically cis male superhero who you're writing as a cis woman—class the fic using the gender you wrote her with, not the gender he is in canon.

Most of the time, gen fics should not be categorized jointly with anything else because a fic should only be categorized based on the ships it focuses on, and a gen fic should not be focusing on a ship in the first place.*

*(One of the few circumstances in which it might make sense to class a fic as both gen and something else is when writing about Queerplatonic Relationships, but that is a judgement call and depends on the fic.)

Relationship Tags

The thing about relationship tagging that people most frequently misunderstand or just don't know is the difference between “Character A/Character B” and “Character A & Character B.”

Use a “/” for romantic or sexual relationships, such as spouses, people who are dating, hookups, and friends with benefits. Use “&” for platonic or familial relationships, such as friends, siblings, parents with their kids, coworkers, and deeply connected mortal enemies who are not tragically in love.

This is where we get the phrase “slash fic.” Originally, that meant any fic focused on a romantic paring, but since so much of the romantic fic being produced was about pairs of men, “slash fic” came to mean same-sex pairings, especially male same-sex pairings. Back in earlier days of fandom, pre-Ao3 and even pre-internet, there was a convention that when writing out a different-sex pairing, you did so in man/woman order, while same-sex pairings were done top/bottom. Some authors, especially those who have been in the fic community a long time, may still do this, but the convention has not been in consistent, active use for many years, so you don't have to worry about putting the names in the “correct” order. Part of why that died out is we, as a community, have gotten less strict and more nuanced in our understandings of sex and relationships, we're writing non-penetrative sex more than we used to, and we're writing multi-partner relationships and sex more than we used to, so strictly delineating “tops” and “bottoms” has gotten less important and less useful.

The convention currently in use on Ao3 is that the names go in alphabetical order for both “/” and “&” relationships. In most cases, the Archive uses the character's full name instead of a nickname or just a given name, like James "Bucky" Barnes instead of just Bucky or James. We'll talk more about conventions for how to input character names in the Characters section. The Archive will give you suggestions as you type—if one of them fits what you mean but is slightly different from how you were typing it, for instance it's in a different order, please use the tag suggested! Consistency in tags across users helps the site work more smoothly for everybody.

This is really not the place for ship nicknames like Puckleberry, Wolfstar, or Ineffable Wives. Use the characters' names.

Now that you know how to format the relationship tag to say what you mean, you have to figure out what relationships in your fic to tag for.

The answer is you tag the relationships that are important to the story you're telling, the ones you spend time and attention following, building up, and maybe even breaking down. Tagging for a ship is not a promise of a happy ending for that pair; you don't have to limit yourself to tagging only the end-game ships if you're telling a story that's more complicated than “they get together and live happily ever after.” That said, you should generally list the main ship—the one you focus on the most—first on the list, and that will usually be the end-game ship. You should also use Additional Tags, the summary, and author's notes to make it clear to readers if your fic does not end happily for a ship you've tagged. Otherwise readers will assume that a fic tagged as being about a ship will end well for that ship, because that's what usually happens, and they'll end up disappointed and hurt, possibly feeling tricked or lied to, when your fic doesn't end well for that ship

You don't have to, and honestly shouldn't, tag for every single relationship that shows up in your fic at all. A character's brief side fling mentioned in passing, or a relationship between two background characters should not be listed under the Relationship tag section. You can list them in the format “minor Character A/Character C” or “Character C/Character D – mentions of” in the Additional Tags section if you want to, or just tag “Minor or Background Relationship(s)” under either the Relationship tag section or in the Additional Tags section.

There are two main reasons to not tag all those minor relationships. The first is to streamline your tags, which makes them clearer and more readable, and therefore more useful. The second reason is because certain ships are far more common as minor or background relationships than as the focus of a work, so tagging all your non-focus focus ships leads to the tags for these less popular ships getting clogged with stories they appear in, but that are not about them. That is, of course, very frustrating for readers who really want to read stories that focus on these ships.

If your fic contains a major relationship between a canon character and an OC, reader-insert, or self-insert, tag it as such. The archive already has /Original Character, /Reader, /You, and /Me tags for most characters in most fandoms. If such a relationship tag isn't already in use, type it in yourself. There are OC/OC tags, too, some of which specify gender, some of which do not.  All the relationship tags that include OCs stack the gender-specific versions of the tags under the nongendered ones. Use these tags as appropriate.

For group relationships, both polycules and multi-person friendships, you “/” or “&” all the names involved in alphabetical order, so Alex/Max/Sam are dating while Chris & Jamie & Tori are best friends. For a poly situation where not everyone is dating each other you should tag it something like “Alex/Max, Alex/Sam” because Alex is dating both Max and Sam, but Max and Sam are not romantically or sexually involved with each other. Use your judgement as to whether you still want to include the Alex/Max/Sam trio tag, and whether you should also use a “Sam & Max” friendship tag.

Generally, romantic “/” type relationships are emphasized over “&” type relationships in fic. It is more important that you tag your “/”s thoroughly and accurately than that you tag your “&”s at all. This is because readers are far more likely to either be looking for or be squicked by particular “/” relationships than they are “&” relationships. You can tag the same pair of characters as both / and & if both their romance and their friendship is important to the story, but a lot of people see this as redundant. If you're writing incest fic, use the / tag for the pair not the & tag and put a courtesy tag for “incest” in the Additional Tags section; this is how readers who do not want to see incestuous relationships avoid that material.

Queerplatonic Relationships, Ambiguous Relationships, Pre-Slash, and “Slash If You Squint” are all frequently listed with both the “/” and “&” forms of the pairing; use your best judgement as to whether one or the other or both is most appropriate for what you've written and clarify the nature of the relationship in your Additional Tags.

Overall, list your “/” tags first, then your “&” tags.

Character Tags

Tagging your characters is a lot like tagging your relationships. Who is your fic about? That's who you put in your character tags.

You don't have to and really should not tag every single background character who shows up for just a moment in the story, for pretty much the same reasons you shouldn't tag background relationships.  We don't want to clog less commonly focused on characters' tags with stories they don't feature prominently in.

You do need to tag the characters included in your Relationship tags.

A character study type of fic might only have one character you need to tag for. Romantic one shots frequently only have two. Longfics and fics with big ensemble casts can easily end up with a dozen characters or more who really do deserve to be tagged for.

Put them in order of importance. This doesn't have to be strict hierarchal ranking, you can just arrange them into groups of “main characters,” “major supporting characters,” and “minor supporting characters.” Nobody less than a minor supporting character should be tagged. Even minor supporting characters show up for more than one line.

If everyone in the fic is genuinely at the same level of importance (which does happen, especially with small cast fics), then order doesn't really matter. You can arrange them by order of appearance or alphabetically by name if you want to be particularly neat about it.

Do tag your OCs! Some people love reading about OCs and want to be able to find them; some people can't stand OCs and want to avoid them at all costs; most people are fine with OCs sometimes, but might have to be in the mood for an OC-centric story or only be comfortable with OCs in certain contexts. Regardless, though, Character tags are here to tell readers who the story is about, and that includes new faces. Original Characters are characters and if they're important to the story, they deserve to be tagged for just like canon characters do.

There are tags for “Original Character(s),” “Original Male Character(s),” and “Original Female Character(s).” Use these tags!  If you have OCs you're going to be using frequently in different stories, type up a character tag in the form “[OC's Name] – Original Character” and use that in addition to the generic OC tags.

Also tag “Reader,” “You,” or “Me” as a character if you've written a reader- or self-insert.

You can use the “Minor Characters” tag to wrap up everybody, both OC and canon, who doesn't warrant their own character tag. Remember, though, that this tag is also used to refer to minor canon characters who may not have their own official names.

Just like when tagging for relationships, the convention when tagging for characters is to use their full name. The suggestions the Archive gives you as you type will help you use the established way of referring to a given character.

Characters who go by more than one name usually have their two most used names listed together as one tag with the two names separated by a vertical bar like “Andy | Andromache of Scythia.” This also gets used sometimes for characters who have different names in an adaptation than in the source text, or a different name in the English-language localization of a work than in the original language. For character names from both real-world and fictional languages and cultures that put family or surname before the given name—like the real Japanese name Takeuchi Naoko or the made up Bajoran name Kira Nerys—that order is used when tagging, even if you wrote your fic putting the given name first.

Some characters' tags include the fandom they're from in parentheses after their name like “Connor (Detroit: Become Human).” This is mostly characters with ordinary given names like Connor and no canon surname, characters who have the same full name as a character in another fandom, such as Billy Flynn the lawyer from the musical Chicago and Billy Flynn the serial killer played by Tim Curry in Criminal Minds, and characters based on mythological, religious, or historical figures or named for common concepts such as Lucifer, Loki, Amethyst, Death, and Zero that make appearances in multiple fandoms.

Additional Tags

Additional Tags is one of the most complicated, and often the longest, section of metatext we find ourselves providing when we post fic. It's also the one that gives our readers the greatest volume of information.

That, of course, is what makes it so hard for us to do well.

It can help to break down Additional Tags into three main functions of tag: courtesy tags, descriptive tags, and personal tags.

Courtesy tags serve as extensions of the rating and warning systems. They can help clarify the rating, provide more information about the Archive Warnings you've used or chosen not to use, and give additional warnings to tell readers there are things in this fic that may be distasteful, upsetting, or triggering but that the Archive doesn't have a standard warning for.

Descriptive tags give the reader information about who's in this fic, what kind of things happen, what tropes are in play, and what the vibe is, as well as practical information about things like format and tense.

Personal tags tell the readers things about us, the author, our process, our relationship to our fic, and our thoughts at the time of posting.

It doesn't really matter what order you put these tags in, but it is best practice to try to clump them: courtesy tags all together so it's harder for a reader to miss an important one, ship-related info tags together, character-related info tags together, etc.

There are tons and tons of established tags on Ao3, and while it's totally fine, fun, and often necessary to make up your own tags, it's also important to use established tags that fit your fic.  For one thing, using established tags makes life easier for the tag wranglers behind the scenes. Using a new tag you just made up that means the same thing as an established tag makes more work for the tag wranglers. We like the tag wranglers, they're all volunteers, and they're largely responsible for the search and sorting features being functional. Be kind to the tag wranglers.

For basically the same reasons, using established tags makes it easier for readers to find your fic. If a reader either searches by a tag or uses filters on another search to “Include” that tag, and you didn't use that tag, your fic will not show up for them even if what you wrote is exactly what they're looking for.  Established tags can be searched by exactly the same way as you search by fandom or pairing, your off the cuff tags cannot.

Let's talk about some well-known established tags and common tag types, divvied up by main function.

Courtesy

A lot of courtesy tags are specific warnings like “Dubious Consent,” “Incest,” “Drug Use,” “Extremely Underage,” “Toxic Relationship,” and “Abuse.” Many of these have even more specific versions such as “Recreational Drug Use” and “Nonconsensual Drug Use,” or “Mildly Dubious Consent” and “Extremely Dubious Consent.”

Giving details about what, if any, drugs are used or mentioned, specifying what kinds of violence or bodily harm are discussed or depicted, details about age differences or power-imbalanced relationships between characters who date or have sex, discussion or depictions of suicide, severe or terminal illness, or mental health struggles is useful. It helps give readers a clear sense of what they'll encounter in your fic and decide if they're up for it.

One the most useful courtesy warning tags is “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” which basically means “there are things in this fic which are really screwed up and may be disturbing, read at your own risk, steer clear if you're not sure.” This tag—like all courtesy warnings, really—is a show of good faith, by using it you are being a responsible, and thoughtful member of the fanfic community by giving readers the power and necessary information to make their own informed decisions about what they are and are not comfortable reading.

Saying to “Heed the tags” is quite self-explanatory and, if used, should be the last or second to last tag so it's easy to spot.  Remember, though, that “Heed the tags” isn't useful if your tags aren't thorough and clear.

“Additional Warnings In Author's Note” is one of only things that should ever go after “Heed the tags.”  If you use this, your additional warnings need to go in the author's note at the very beginning of the fic, not the one at the end of the first chapter.  If your additional warnings write up is going to be very long because it's highly detailed, then it can go at the bottom of the chapter with a note at the beginning indicating that the warnings are at the bottom. Some authors give an abbreviated or vague set of warnings in the initial note, then longer, highly detailed, spoilery warnings in the end note. It's best to make it as simple and straightforward as possible for readers to access warnings.

Tagging with “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat,” “Heed the tags,” or “Additional Warnings In Author's Note” is not a substitute for thorough and appropriate courtesy tagging. These are extra reminders to readers to look closely at the other warnings you've given.

While most courtesy tags are warnings, some are assurances like “No Lesbians Die” or “It's Not As Bad As It Sounds.”  A fic tagged for rape or dub-con may get a tag assuring that the consent issues are not between the characters in the main ship; or a fic with a premise that sounds likely to involve lack of consent but actually doesn't may get a tag that it's “NOT rape/non-con.” A tag like “Animal Death” may be immediately followed by a freeform tag assuring that the animal that dies is not the protagonist's beloved horse.

Descriptive

There are a few general kinds of descriptive tags including character-related, ship-related, temporal, relation-to-canon, trope-related, smut details, and technical specifications.

Many character- and ship-related tags simply expand on the Character and Relationship tags we've already talked about.  This is usually the place to specify details about OCs and inserts, such as how a reader-insert is gendered.

When it comes to character-related tags, one of the most common types in use on Ao3 and in fandom at large is the bang-path. This is things like werewolf!Alex, trans!Max, top!Sam, kid!Jamie, and captain!Tori. Basically, a bang-path is a way of specifying a version of a character. We've been using this format for decades; it comes from the very first email systems used by universities in the earliest days of internet before the World Wide Web existed. It's especially useful for quickly and concisely explaining the roles of characters in an AU. Nowadays this is also one of the primary conventions for indicating who's top and who's bottom in a ship if that's information you feel the need to establish.  The other current convention for indicating top/bottom is as non-bang-path character-related tags in the form “Top [Character A], Bottom [Character B].”

Other common sorts of character tags are things like “[Character A] Needs a Hug,” “Emotionally Constipated [Character B],” and “[Character C] is a Good Dad.”

Some character-related tags don't refer to a particular character by name, but tell readers something about what kinds of characters are in the fic. Usually, this indicates the minority status of characters and may indicate whether or not that minority status is canon, as in “Nonbinary Character,” “Canon Muslim Character,” “Deaf Character,” and “Canon Disabled Character.”

Down here in the tags is the place to put ship nicknames!  This is also where to say things like “They're idiots your honor” or indicate that they're “Idiots in Love,” maybe both since “Idiots in Love” is an established searchable tag but “They're idiots your honor” isn't yet. If your fandom has catchphrases related to your ship, put that here if you want to.

If relevant, specify some things about the nature of relationships in your fic such as “Ambiguous Relationship,” “Queerplatonic Relationships,” “Polyamory,” “Friends With Benefits,” “Teacher-Student Relationship,” and so on. Not all fics need tags like these. Use your best judgement whether your current fic does.

Temporal tags indicate when your fic takes place. That can be things like “Pre-Canon” and “Post-Canon,” “Pre-War,” “Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier,” “1996-1997 NHL season,” “Future Fic,” and so on.  These tags may be in reference to temporal landmarks in canon, in the real world, or both depending on what's appropriate.

Some temporal tags do double duty by also being tags about the fic's relationship to canon. The Pre- and Post-Canon tags are like that.

Other relation-to-canon type tags are “Canon Compliant” for fics that fit completely inside the framework of canon without changing or contradicting anything, “Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence” for fics that are compliant up to a certain point in canon, then veer off (maybe because you started writing the fic when the show was on season two but now it's at season four and you're not incorporating everything from the newer seasons, maybe a character died and you refuse to acknowledge that, maybe you just want to explore what might have happened if a particular scene had gone differently), and the various other Alternate Universe tags for everything from coffee shop AUs and updates to modern settings, to realities where everyone is a dragon or no one has their canon superpowers.

The established format for these tags is “Alternate Universe – [type],” but a few have irregular names as well, such as “Wingfic” for AUs in which characters who don't ordinarily have wings are written as having wings.

If you have written an AU, please tag clearly what it is! Make things easy on both the readers who are in the mood to read twenty royalty AUs in a row, the readers who are in the middle of finals week and the thought of their favorite characters suffering through exams in a college AU would destroy the last shred of their sanity but would enjoy watching those characters teach high school, and the readers who really just want to stick to the world of canon right now.

Admittedly, it can get a little confusing what AU tag or tags you need to describe what you've written since most of us have never had a fandom elder sit us down and explain what the AU tags mean. One common mix up is tagging things “Alternate Universe - Modern Setting” when what's meant is “Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence.”  The misunderstanding here is usually reading “Alternate Universe - Modern Setting” and thinking it means an alternate version of the canon universe that is set at the same time as the canon universe, but is different in some way. That's not how the tag is meant to be used, though.

The Modern Setting AU tag is specifically for fic set now (at approximately the same time period it was written), for media that's canonically set somewhere that is very much not the present of the real world. This can mean things set in the past (like Jane Austen), the future (like Star Trek), or a fantasy world entirely different from our own (like Lord of the Rings or Avatar: the Last Airbender). Fic for a canon that's set more or less “now” doesn't need the Modern Setting AU tag, even if the world of canon is different from our own. If you're removing those differences by putting fantasy or superhero characters in a world without magic or supersoldier serum, you might want the “Alternate Universe - No Powers” tag instead.

Some of the most fun descriptive tags are trope tags. This includes things like “Mutual Pining,” “Bed Sharing” for when your OTP gets to their hotel room to find There Was Only One Bed, “Fake Dating,” “Angst,” Fluff,” “Hurt/Comfort” and all its variants.  Readers love tropes at least as much as we love writing them and want to be able to find their favorites. Everyone also has tropes they don't like and would rather avoid. Tagging them allows your fic to be filtered in and out by what major tropes you've used.

Explicit fics, and sometimes fics with less restrictive ratings, that contain sex usually have tags indicating details about the nature of the sexual encounter(s) portrayed and what sex acts are depicted. These are descriptive tags, but they also do double duty as courtesy tags. This is very much a situation in which tags are a consent mechanism; by thoroughly and clearly tagging your smut you are giving readers the chance to knowingly opt in or out of the experience you've written.

Most of the time, it's pretty easy to do basic tagging for sex acts—you know whether what you wrote shows Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, or Non-penetrative Sex.  You probably know the names for different kinds of Oral Sex you may have included. You might not know what to call Frottage or Intercrural Sex, though, even if you understand the concept and included the act in your fic. Sometimes there are tags with rectangle-square type relationships (all Blow Jobs are Oral Sex, but not all Oral Sex is a Blow Job) and you're not sure if you should tag for both—you probably should. Sometimes there are tags for overlapping, closely related, or very similar acts or kinks and you're not sure which to tag—that one's more of judgement call; do your best to use the tags that most closely describe what you wrote.

Tag for the kinks at play, if any, so readers can find what they're into and avoid what they're not. Tag for what genitalia characters have if it's nonobvious, including if there's Non-Human Genitalia involved. Tag your A/B/O, your Pon Farr, and your Tentacles, including whether it's Consentacles or Tentacle Rape.

Technical specification tags give information about aspects of the fic other than its narrative content.  Most things on Ao3 are prose fiction so that's assumed to be the default, so anything else needs to be specified in tags. That includes Poetry, Podfics, things in Script Format, and Art. If it is a podfic, you should tag with the approximate length in minutes (or hours). If a fic is Illustrated (it has both words and visual art) tag for that.

Tag if your fic is a crossover or fusion.  The difference, if you're not sure, is that in a crossover, two (or more) entire worlds from different media meet, whereas in a fusion, some aspects of one world, like the cast of characters, are combined with aspects of another, like the setting or magic system.

If the team of paranormal investigators from one show get in contact with the cast of aliens from another show, that's a crossover and you need to have all the media you're drawing from up in the Fandom tags. If you've given the cast of Hamlet physical manifestations of their souls in the form of animal companions like the daemons from His Dark Materials but nothing else from His Dark Materials shows up, that's a fusion, the Fandom tag should be “Hamlet - Shakespeare,” and you need the “Alternate Universe - Daemons” tag. If you've given the members of a boy band elemental magic powers like in Avatar: the Last Airbender, that can be more of a judgement call depending how much from Avatar you've incorporated into your story. If absolutely no characters or specific settings from Avatar show up, it's probably a fusion.  Either way, if the boyband exists in real life, it needs to be tagged as RPF.

Tag if your fic is a Reader-Insert or Self-Insert.

You might want to tag for whether your fic is written with POV First, Second, or Third Person, and if it's Past Tense or Present Tense (or Future Tense, though that's extremely uncommon).  For POV First Person fics that are not self-inserts, or POV Third Person fics that are written in third person limited, you may want to tag which character's POV is being shown. Almost all POV Second Person fics are reader-insert, so if you've written one that isn't, you should tag for who the “you” is.

A fic is “POV Outsider” if the character through whom the story is being conveyed is outside the situation or not familiar with the characters and context a reader would generally know from canon. The waitress who doesn't know the guy who just sat down in her diner is a monster hunter, and the guy stuck in spaceport because some hotshot captain accidentally locked down the entire space station, are both potential narrators for POV Outsider stories.

Other technical specifications can be tags for things like OCtober and Kinktober or fic bingo games.  Tagging something as a Ficlet, One Shot, or Drabble is a technical specification (we're not going to argue right now over what counts as a drabble). Tagging for genre, like Horror or Fantasy, is too.

It's also good to tag accessibility considerations like “Sreenreader Friendly,” but make sure your fic definitely meets the needs of a given kind of accessibility before tagging it.

Personal

Even among personal tags there are established tags!  Things like “I'm Sorry,” “The Author Regrets Nothing,” “The Author Regrets Everything,” and “I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping” are common ones.  Tags about us and our relationship to the fic, such as “My First Work In This Fandom,” “Author is Not Religious,” and “Trans Porn By A Trans Author,” can help readers gauge what to expect from our fic. Of course, you are not at all obligated to disclose any personal information for any reason when posting your fic.

The “I'm Bad At Tagging” tag is common, but probably overused. Tagging is hard; very few of us have a natural feel for it even with lots of practice.  It's not a completely useless tag because it can indicate to readers that you've probably missed some things you should have tagged for, so they should be extra careful; but it can also turn into a crutch, an excuse to not try, and therefore a sign to readers they can't trust your tagging job. Just do your best, and leave off the self depreciation. If you're really concerned about the quality of your tagging, consider putting in an author's note asking readers to let you know if there are any tags you should add.

You might want to let readers know your fic is “Not Beta Read” or, if you're feeling a little cheekier than that, say “No Beta We Die Like Men” or its many fandom-specific variants like the “No Beta We Die Like Robins” frequently found among Batman fics and “No beta we die like Sunset Curve” among Julie and The Phantoms fic. Don't worry, the Archive recognizes all of these as meaning “Not Beta Read.”

The Archive can be inconsistent about whether it stacks specific variants of Additional Tags under the broadest version of the tag like it does with Fandom tags, so best practice is usually to use both.  You can double check by trying to search by a variant tag (or clicking on someone else's use of the variant); if the results page says the broader or more common form of the tag, those stack.

There's no such thing as the right number of tags. Some people prefer more tags and more detail, while other people prefer fewer more streamlined tags, and different fics have different things that need to be tagged for.  There is, however, such a thing as too many tags.  A tagblock that takes up the entire screen, or more, can be unreadable, at which point they are no longer useful. Focus on the main points and don't try to tag for absolutely everything.  Use the “Additional Warnings In Author's Note” strategy if your courtesy tags are what's getting out of hand.

Tag for as much as you feel is necessary for readers to find your fic and understand what they're getting into if they decide to open it up.

A little bit of redundancy in tags is not a sin.  In fact, slight redundancy is usually preferable to vagueness. Clear communication in tags is a cardinal virtue. Remember that tags serve a purpose, they're primarily a tool for sorting and filtering, and (unlike on some other sites like tumblr) they work, so it's best to keep them informative and try to limit rambling in the tags. Ramble at length in your author's notes instead!

Titles

Picking a title can be one of the most daunting and frustrating parts of posting a fic. Sometimes we just know what to call our fics and it's a beautiful moment. Other times we stare at that little input box for what feels like an eternity.

The good news is there's really no wrong way to select a title. Titles can be long or short, poetic or straight to the point. Song lyrics, idioms, quotes from literature or from the fic itself can be good ways to go.

Single words or phrases with meanings that are representative of the fic can be great. A lot of times these are well known terms or are easy enough to figure out like Midnight or Morning Glow, but if you find yourself using something that not a lot of people know what it means, like Chiaroscuro (an art style that uses heavy shadow and strong contrast between light and dark), Kintsukuroi (the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold), or Clusivity (the grammatical term for differences in who is or isn't included in a group pronoun), you should define the term in either a subtitle, i.e. “Chiaroscuro: A Study In Contrast,” or at the beginning of the summary.

As a courtesy to other writers, especially in small fandoms, you may want to check to make sure there's not already another fic with the same title in the same fandom, but this is not required. In large fandoms, there's no point in even trying. After all, there are only so many puns to be made about the full moon and only so many verses to Hallelujah.

It may be common practice on other platforms to include information such as fandom or ship in the title of a fic, but on Ao3 nothing that is specified by tags belongs in the title unless your title happens to be the same as a tag because, for instance, you've straightforwardly titled your character study of Dean Winchester “Dean Winchester Character Study” and also responsibly tagged it as such.

Summaries

Yes, you really do need to put something down for the summary. It might only need to be a single sentence, but give the readers something to go off of.

The summary is there to serve two purposes: one, to catch the interest of potential readers, give them a taste of what's inside, and make them want to know more; and two, to give you a space to provide information or make comments that don't really fit in the tags but that you want readers to see before they open the fic.

We've already talked some about that second function. When you put an explanation of the title or clarification about tags in the summary, that's the purpose it's serving. You can also put notes to “Heed the tags” or instruct readers that there are additional warnings in the author's note here in the summary, rather than doing so in the tags.

The first function, the actual summarizing, can be very hard for some of us.  It's basically the movie trailer for your fic, butwhat are you even supposed to say?

There are two main strategies as to how to approach this: the blurb, and the excerpt. Blurbs are like the synopses you at least used to see on the backs of published books, or the “Storyline” section on an IMDb page. Writing one is a matter of telling your readers who does what, under what circumstances.

Depending on the fic, one sentence can capture the whole thing: “Sam and Alex have sex on a train.” “Tori tries to rob a bank.” “If anybody had mentioned Max's new house was haunted, Jamie wouldn't have agreed to help with the move.”

Sometimes a blurb can be a question! “What happens when you lock a nuclear engineer in a closet with a sewing kit, a tennis ball, and half a bottle of Sprite?”

Of course, plenty of blurbs are more than one sentence. Their length can vary pretty significantly depending on the type and length of fic you're working with and how much detail you're trying to convey, but it shouldn't get to be more than a few short paragraphs. You're not retelling the entire fic here.

An excerpt is a portion of the fic copied out to serve as the summary. This, too, can vary in length from a line or two to several paragraphs, but shouldn't get too long. It should not be an entire scene unless that scene happens to be uncommonly short. It's important to select a portion of the fic that both indicates the who, what, and under what circumstances of the fic and is representative of the overall tone. Excerpts that are nothing but dialogue with no indication of who's talking are almost never a good choice. Portions that are sexually explicit or extremely violent are never ever a good choice—if it deserves content warnings, it belongs inside the fic, not on the results page.

Counterintuitively, some of the best excerpts won't even look like an excerpt to the reader if they don't contain dialogue. They seem like particularly literary blurbs until the reader reaches that part in the fic and realizes they recognize a section of narration.

Some of us have very strong preferences as to whether we write blurbs or use excerpts for our summaries. Some readers have very strong preferences as to which they find useful. Ultimately, there's no accounting for taste, but there are things we can do to limit the frustration for readers who prefer summaries of the opposite kind than we prefer to write, without increasing our own frustration or work load very much. Part of that is understanding what readers dislike about each type so we know what to mitigate.

Blurbs can seem dry, academic, and overly simplified. They don't automatically give the reader a sense of your writing style the way an excerpt does. They can also seem redundant, like they're just rehashing information already given in the tags, so the reader feels like they're being denied any more information without opening the fic.

Excerpts can seem lazy, like you, the author, don't care enough to bother writing a blurb, or pushy like you're telling the reader “just read the fic; I'm not going to give you the information you need to decide if you want to read or not, I'm shoving it in front of you and you just have to read it.” That effect gets worse if your tags aren't very informative or clear about what the plot is, if the excerpt is obviously just the first few lines or paragraphs of the fic, if the except is particularly long, or, worst of all, if all three are true at once.

A lot of the potential problems with blurbs can be minimized by having fun writing them! Make it punchy, give it some character, treat it like part of the story, not just a book report. A fic for a serialized show or podcast, for instance, could have a blurb written in the style of the show's “previously on” or the podcast's intro.  Make sure the blurb gives the reader something they can't just get from the tags—like the personality of your writing, important context or characterization, or a sense of the shape of the story—but don't try to skimp on the tags to do it!

Really, the only way to minimize the potential problems with excerpts is to be very mindful in selecting them. Make sure the portion you've chosen conveys the who, what, and under what circumstances and isn't too long.  You know the story; what seems clear and obvious from the excerpt to you might not be apparent to someone who doesn't already know what happens, so you might need to ask a friend to double check you.

The absolute best way to provide a summary that works for everybody is to combine both methods. It really isn't that hard to stick a brief excerpt before your blurb, or tack a couple lines of blurb after your excerpt, but it can make a world of difference for how useful and inviting your summary is to a particular reader. The convention for summaries that use both is excerpt first, then blurb.

If you're struggling to figure out a summary, or have been in the habit of not providing one, try not to stress over it. Anything is better than nothing.  As long as you've written something for a summary, you've given the reader a little more to help them make their decision. What really isn't helpful, though, is saying “I'm bad at summaries” in your summary. It's a lot like the “I'm Bad At Tagging” tag in that it's unnecessarily self depreciating, frequently comes across as an excuse not to try, and sometimes really is just an excuse. Unlike the “I'm Bad At Tagging” tag, which has the tiny saving grace of warning readers you've probably missed something, saying you're bad at summaries has no utility at all, and may drive away a reader who thought your summary was quite good, but is uncomfortable with the negative attitude reflected by that statement. Summaries are hard. It's okay if you don't like your summary, but it's important for it to be there, and it's important to be kind to yourself about it. You're trying, that's what matters.

Author's Notes

Author's notes are the one place where we, the writers, directly address and initiate contact with our readers. We may also talk to them in the comments section, but that's different because they initiate that interaction while we reply, and comments are mostly one-on-one while in author's notes we're addressing everyone who ever reads our fic.

The very first note on a fic should contain any information, such as warnings or explanations, that a reader needs to see before they get to the body of the story, as well as anything like thanks to your beta, birthday wishes to a character, or general hellos and announcements you want readers to see before they get to the body of the story. On multi-chapter fics, notes at the beginning of chapters serve the same function for that chapter as the initial note on the fic does for the whole story, so you can do things like warn for Self-Harm on the two chapters out of thirty where it comes up, let everyone know your update schedule will be changing, or wish your readers a merry Christmas, if they celebrate it, on the chapter you posted on December 23rd but is set in mid-March.

Notes at the end of a fic or chapter are for things that don't need to be said or are not useful to a reader until after they've read the preceding content, such as translations for that handful of dialogue that's in Vulcan or Portuguese, or any parting greetings or announcements you want to give, like a thanks for reading or a reminder school is starting back so you won't be able to write as much. End notes are the best place to plug your social media to readers if you're inclined to do so, but remember that cannot include payment platforms like Patreon or Ko-fi.

As previously mentioned, warnings can go in end notes but that really should only be done when the warnings are particularly long, such that the length might cause a problem for readers who are already confident in their comfort level and would just want to scroll past the warning description. In that case, the additional warnings need to go in the note at the end of the first chapter, rather than at the end of the fic, if it's a multi-chapter fic; and you need to include an initial note telling readers that warnings/explanations of tags are at the bottom so they know to follow where the Archive tells them to see the end of the chapter/work for “more notes.”

When posting a new work, where the Preface section gives you the option to add notes “at the beginning” or “at the end” or both, if you check both boxes, it means notes at the beginning and end of the entire fic, not the beginning and end of the first chapter. For single-chapter fics this difference doesn't really matter, but for multi-chapter fics it matters a lot. In order to add notes to the beginning or end of the first chapter of a multi-chapter fic you have to first go through the entire process to post the new fic, then go in to Edit, Edit Chapter, and add the notes there.

Series and Chapters

Dealing with Series and Chapters is actually two different issues, but they're closely related and cause some of us mixups, especially when we're new to the site and its systems, so we're going to cover them together.

Series on Ao3 are for collecting up different stories that you've written that are associated with each other in some way. Chapters are for dividing up one story into parts, usually for pacing and to give yourself and your readers a chance to take breaks and breathe, rather than trying to get through the entire thing in a single marathon sitting (not that we won't still do that voluntarily, but it's nice to have rest points built in if we need them).

If your story would be one book if it was officially published, then it should be posted as a single fic—with multiple chapters if it's long or has more than one distinct part, like separate vignettes that all go together. If you later write a sequel to that fic, post it as a new fic and put them together in a series. It's exactly like chapters in a book and books in a series. Another way to think of this structure is like a TV show: different fics in the series are like different seasons of the show, with individual chapters being like episodes.

If you have several fics that all take place in the same AU but really aren't the same story those should go together as a series.  If you wrote a story about a superhero team re-cast as school teachers, then wrote another story about different characters in the same school, that's this situation.

Series are also the best way to handle things like prompt games, bingos, or Kinktober, or collect up one shots and drabbles especially if your various fills, entries, and drabbles are for more than one fandom. If you put everything for a prompt game or bingo, or all your drabbles, together as one fic with a different chapter for each story, what ends up happening is that fic gets recognized by the Archive as a crossover when it isn't, so it gets excluded from the results pages for everyone who told the filters to Exclude Crossovers even though one of the stories you wrote is exactly what they're looking for; and that fic ends up with tons and tons of wildly varying and self-contradictory tags because it's actually carrying the tags for several entirely different, possibly unrelated stories, which also means it ends up getting excluded from results pages because, for instance, one out of your thirty-one Kinktober entries is about someone's NoTP.

Dividing these kinds of things up into multiple fic in a series makes it so much easier for readers to find what of your work they actually want to read.

If you've previously posted such things as a single fic, don't worry, it's a really common misunderstanding and there is absolutely nothing stopping you from reposting them separately. You may see traffic on them go up if you do!

Parting Thoughts

Metatext is ultimately all about communication, and in this context effective communication is a matter of responsibility and balance.

Ao3 is our archive. It's designed for us, the writers, to have the freedom to write and share whatever stories we want without having to worry that we'll wake up one day and find our writing has been deleted overnight without warning.  That has happened too many times to so many in our community as other fanfic sites have died, been shut down, or caved to threats of legal action. Ao3 is dedicated to defending our legal right to create and share our stories. Part of the deal is that, in exchange for that freedom and protection, we take up the responsibility to communicate to readers what we're writing and who it's appropriate for.

We are each other's readers, and readers who don't write are still part of our community. We have a responsibility as members of this community to be respectful of others in our shared spaces.  Ao3 is a shared space. The best way we have to show each other respect is to give one another the information needed to decide if a given fic is something we want to engage with or not, and then, in turn, to not engage with fic that isn't our cup of tea. As long as our fellow writer has been clear about what their fic is, they've done their part of the job. If we decided to look at the fic despite the information given and didn't like what we found, then that's on us.

Because metatext is how we put that vital information about our fics out in the community, it's important that our metatext is clear and easy to parse. The key to that is balance. Striking the balance between putting enough tags to give a complete picture and not putting too many tags that become an unreadable wall; the balance between the urge to be thorough and tag every character and the need to be restrained so those looking for fics actually about a certain character can find them; the balance between using established tags for clarity and ease and making up our own tags for specificity and fun.

Do your best, act in good faith, remember you're communicating with other people behind those usernames and kudos, and, most importantly, have fun with your writing!

[thatfanfictionchick]

Mr Love Queens Choice Masterlist

Updated 01/29/2023

Other

Memento Mei

MLQC Dads

MLQC Dads p.2

MLQC Song List

MLQC as MLP

MLQC as Golden Girls quotes

Minor Feature

Smut [Explicit]

1:30 Meeting

Confessions: Part 1

Confessions: Part 2

Other

A Dummy's Help

Smut [Explicit]

No More Interruptions

A Little More

Mountains or Molehills

Crime & Punishment

Other

The Trick with Cherries

Lucien laughing

Smut [Explicit]

Before I Go

Unwind

Turnabout

Gavin x MC x Victor

Green could be Your Color

Oblivious

We should work out

Other

Not Just You

Hell Hath Mild Fury

Smut [Explicit]

[HC] Dating Kiro

Malicious Compliance

Tell Me you Love Me

[S.o.S] Petting in the Pool

[Kinktober] Choking

Show Me

Reunion

Mature

Fromager

Smut [Explicit]

Not Me

What You Want

[S.o.S] Popsicle Licking

[S.o.S] Untying a Biking Top

[S.o.S] Banging on the Beach

[S.o.S] Skinny Dipping

While I'm Gone

Daddy

Beg for it

About That Night (collab effort with @/truth-be-told-im-lying)

Collared

Other

Pillow Talk

Knight

Birdy Beatdown

Daddy Helios

[Currently as barren as my heart after the loss of our beloved VA's]

Smut [Explicit]

[S.o.S] Strip Poker

ABC's of Sex

[Kinktober] Temperature Play

[cripple-cat]

More Axton (And Zer0) Headcanons (More Drabbles At This Point) Because I Fucking Want To

to quote my own father about himself axton is "a masochist at everyones expense" it just doesnt actually benefit anyone like kriegs masochism does

he makes himself a human shield and then gets confused and laughs when his teammates get mad at him for nearly dying and actually dying all the fucking time

he doesnt even NEED to do that his turret has a SHIELD we can just HIDE WITH YOUR TURRET AXTON STOP

he just hates seeing his friends get hurt and doesnt see the problem with dying if hes just going to respawn anyway, even if it costs money

its the closest he can get to actually dying without any of them questioning it but sometimes he wants them to

in their early days together he got into a mild but very frustrating argument with maya that split their team into two sides

no one can remember what it was about except zer0 and they wont tell anyone because it was stupid

but they got really irritated with axton and decided if they were ever going to make it to jack to kill him they would need to rid themself of irritants, including axton

and they sprung up, grabbed him by the front of his uniform, and pressed the sharp edge of the digistruct sword to his throat

he has since jacked off to that particular instance far too many times

he often fantasizes other ways they could kill him or control him and jacks off to those too

he has yet to share this with anyone

he loves zer0 though and loves that they hold his hand now instead of feeling the need to threaten him or straight up kill him

consent and all that, very important

after zer0 gave him the very smooth rock he started giving them all the best guns he could get his hands on

sometimes hell find a shiny piece of shrapnel and give that to them

sometimes hell find something squishy and sneak it into their hand when they go to hold hands with him

its the best way to make them uncomfortable while also showing them he loves them without having to say it

they always give him their heart emoticon after anyway

"hey can you hold this for me"

'...'

*stifled laughter* "perfect, ze"

'<3'

its super cute and super stupid and he likes to make them happy with the way he irritates them

its a love language and i will die on this hill thank you very much

he once managed to catch a glimpse of them drinking a glass of water

it was through some form of straw extended from their mask and he couldnt figure out where it came from

he saw them drinking just long enough to watch them retract the straw into their mask without using their hands

he has not been the same since

everyone has questions about zer0s anatomy, hes no exception, but he honestly just wants to know what the fuck is uo with that straw

is it a part of the suit? is it a part of their face?? what the fuck is it??? why do they have it there?

he always forgets to ask though and its super annoying

hes really really good at poker, but only when hes drunk

he cant play poker for shit when hes sober

he found out the hard way though that he has absolutely no chance ever of beating krieg at any card game

or really any game

for someone whos literally psychologically scarred and cracked and fucked up pretty much beyond repair hes really good with numbers and reading people

it would be funnier if axton werent terrified of it

its like krieg just knows things

maya doesnt seem put off by it but axton sure is, its spooky

he earned the privilege of high-fiving maya after a good fight, and now he does it after almost every fight

he likes high-fives and she gives the best ones

crisp and tingly but not weak and small-handed or heavy and crushing

he likes watching her move sometimes, he can definitely tell shes not a soldier

her motion is crude but graceful, like a dancer trying to box, but a lot more melt-your-face-off

hes never been to athenas but he wonders if everyone there fights like that, or if she learned to fight like that because no one there knows how to fight at all

he never asks, she doesnt care for talking about where she came from

he doesnt talk about sarah much either, so he understands

he still mentions her in passing from time to time, when shes relevant or hes feeling regretful of what he did to her

he knows he wasnt a good husband or soldier, and somewhere deep down he knows they werent really good for each other, but he still tried to be

and he knows that even as she was breaking it off, even as she was telling him he wasnt a soldier anymore, she still loved him

she gave him the idea to leave, she gave him the chance to, she gave him the dignity of choice

he still loves her, but its different now

its not like the romance he felt when they were dating, or when they were first married, or in the early months of their marriage

he loves her like shes an old friend hed get drinks with and catch up with over lunch, but never intentionally contact, despite being willing to do anything for her if she asked now

he wants to apologize, but he cant contact her anymore, and sometimes that hurts more than the idea that she might have let him be executed had he stayed

It sucks, but life doesnt wait for you to get your shit together, so he accepts it and moves on to the best of his ability

that part of his life is over now, hes got newer, better things to do and be and look forward to

like his new team, his new leaders, his new zer0

he really does love them, he just cant figure out how that works

he married someone else and loved her, they divorced, he doesnt love her the same way he did, now he loves someone else differently, too

its different, but its better, its so much better

their arguments are petty and friendly or about things that dont really matter in the end

and theyre accepting of the lifestyles they have, despite the differences, instead of arguing over never seeing each other or seeing too much of each other

everything about each other is taken as is and its so much better this way

he never had that safety with sarah

but he has it now

[reginarubie]

hi! Thanks for accepting my prompts! I actually assumed it'd be jonsa coz they stole my heart and soul but either way is fine! I've never sent a prompt before so I'm sorry if it was hard to understand. Idk how other schools played assassin but in my school we get a name and we have to film ourselves shooting them with a water gun or water balloons. Some form of water ammunition. My friend tried to water bomb her target by dumping water on him from the second floor. The games can get pretty intense with alliances and there's usually a grand prize along with bragging rights.

Ciao!,

don't worry, I figured you were up for anything, and I left everything neutral so it kind of fits Jonsa as well, also the soft stubbornness of the male character does remind me of Jon, how he would be in a modern setting, so I feel like it came out alright, hope you enjoyed!

And, since Jonsa stole your heart and soul this second prompt you sent I'm going to make it Jonsa.

[previous prompt being referred to: Dandelions in between the pages]

Now let's hop onto the other prompt.

Prompt: Literally Anything Involving The Game Assassins, of the various quotes you've sent I've chosen three to get into the text: «You have me as a target, DID YOU JUST JUMP OUT OF A MOVING VEHICLE, ARE YOU INSANE?»; «I think the guy who has me as a target is in the student union, hey random person, can you pretend to be my partner and then break up with me so he feels bad and won't tag me», «I have you as a target but stalking you has made me fall in love with you»

Fair warning, this time I got inspired by Out of the woods, by Taylor Swift, so yeah, if you want go ahead and read while listening to it. If some words or choices for the course of study sound strange it's because I don't know much of the US school system and I have gone by inspiration with the italian school and academic system of universities, so sorry if it sounds strange!

We were screaming in color, [the rest of the world was in black and white]

Sansa whirls around and her breath gets knocked out of her lungs as Jon gracefully — and that shouldn't really surprise her, she's seen him fencing since they've been kids hanging out in the backyard of Winterfell Manor in Winter town — fucking jump out of the stopping, but still moving... still moving, STILL MOVING car.

His friend, Satin, is in the driver seat and he looks half as horrified as Sansa feels, as Jon — years of falling off trees, stairs and during his mock-wrestling matches with Rickon (who has become a pro-wrestle by the way) — rolls onto his shoulder to avoid hitting his head and crunches on the hard concrete of the road his water-gun firmly in his hand and suddenly Sansa is hyperaware of the fact that, in the back of the car, his other friend, Pyp is busy filming the whole thing.

Jon smirks at her. Jon is usually sullen and brooding, it's one the things that make him so... attractive to some women, he looks calm and collected, clever and mild-tempered, not prone to bouts of anger or disrespect. But Sansa knows better and while Lyanna would have his hide if he ever disrespected a woman — and he's never done such in their whole life as far as Sansa is aware — he can be a smug little shit on times, his laugh crinkles at the corner of his eyes and his molten brown eyes become unbearably soft with fondness when he wants, but he is anything but mild-tempered, he has only learned how to control himself better — he had been a menace during their teen years, always coming to Winterfell with black eyes, bruises knuckles and cracked ribs because of the scuffles he would get in — and he can be a little shit on occasion.

[This is one of those occasions]

“Sorry” he tells her. He doesn't sound regretful at all.

Such a show-off.

Sansa barely has the time to wonder if her white top will become see-through when he fires his water gun at her, hitting her squarely.

If his video makes her the laughing stock of the college she will revoke his privileges and he can forget she ever shares her last lemon cake with him. Or any of her home cooked meal. He's going to have to return to eating in the college cafeteria. See how well he likes that.

“What's wrong with you?! You have me as a target,” she starts water dripping down her chin (j'accuse!) “did you just jump out of a moving vehicle?, ARE YOU INSANE?!”

TWO AND HALF MONTHS AGO

Sansa can't believe Arya has talked her into this. People doing crazy things for a game. But her little sister had turned on her, her full kicked puppy look and Sansa had just caved in.

They hadn't been really close as children though they had enjoyed playing together in the snow and when in school Arya had been the one to beat off the bullies who tried to have their way with her after she had knocked off two of Joffrey's teeth when he had tried to force himself on her, Sansa had even twisted her wrist because of it — she had never thrown a punch before in her life — anyway, Arya had beaten away the bullies and snarled at them.

Back off my sister, you little shits!

Robb had denounced Joffrey to the principal and to his father, Robert, Bran had hacked into Joffrey's phone and had used she didn't know what kind of information he had found there to blackmail him to stay put then, Joffrey had turned up to school with his face completely bruised and his arm broken. Sansa had wondered in horror if Robert had done it. But then she had seen the way Joff would avoid Robb and the way he would just scurry away without his usual sneer in place when he met Jon in the hallway, but what really gave it away were Jon's bruised knuckles and the way he would mutter and growl at the boy with the Baratheon keeping his mouth shut.

It had been the first time Sansa had tended to Jon's bruised knuckles. She had dragged him by the wrist to the infirmary and had charmed the staff there until they'd been left alone. She had whacked him behind the head for his trouble and kissed his cheek to thank him for his concern.

Then she had tended to his hand.

The next year Jon and Robb had graduated and the times Jon would come to her with bruised knuckles or a black eye grew more sparse and they kind of lost contact.

Still, when Sansa sees him, his reading glasses on his nose as he types away on this pc, sitting in a quiet corner of the dehor of a cafe, his hand-taken notes at his side and a pencil balanced in deep thought between his upper-lip and below his nose, she looks behind her shoulder to the guy who's been following her around the corner with his girlfriend filming apparently innocuous videos of the two of them — despite the very suspicious bulge barely hidden by the guy's jacket in the shape of a water gun — and makes a bolt for it.

Jon is clearly surprised to see her standing before his table, but Sansa just shrugs off her jeans-jacket and drapes it over the chair, slipping easily in the seat “Hi” she greets him with an easy smile “Sorry,” she says meekly as Jon's entire attention is on her “but, I think the guy who has me as a target is in the student union,” she nudges her head to the guy who's still hovering with his girlfriend around, his jaw tensed. Jon's eyes follow the line of vision and Sansa has to force herself not to twist and look at the guy. Restaurants, cafes and the library as well as classes are off limits for the game, thankfully.

Jon arches a brow “And what do you want me to do with this information, Sansa?”

The way he says her name, his voice dipping just so and dragging on the first syllable still gives her shivers. Damn him and his intense, soulful eyes. Sansa doesn't need the distraction now.

Sansa leans in, her best persuading expression in place, her bottom lip just stuck out a bit in a pout “Can you pretend to be my partner and then break up with me so he feels bad and won't tag me?”

It's stupid.

Jon chuckles, clearly surprised and fond. Well looks like he kind of likes her enough still to get along with it by the way he exhales almost shakily and sends her that smile reserved for when Sansa convinced him to help her rehearsal her ballet-moves in the backyard.

“I won't break your heart,” he says “not even for pretend” and Sansa blinks surprised as Jon draws from under his hand-taken notes what looks like a small water-gun and he fires it at the guys who's been hovering way too close for comfort, hitting him squarely in the face with a smirk in place.

“He was my target” he says in lieu of explanation to her astounded look.

The guy flails around and looks half-murderous drenched as he is as his girlfriend squeals and shrieks. Perhaps Sansa is an easy target, but it looks like they were a bit too confident of themselves.

They leave in a haste even as people around them chuckle and shake their head.

He turns around and winks to her, as he shifts to look at a guy with dark, curly hair and a soft smile and a phone in hand “Did you film that?” Jon asks.

The guy nods “Roger, roger” he says then rising his iced coffee glass in her direction as well “They way you were framed no one will know what you were speaking about” he assures her, guessing she might dislike the idea of being filmed without her consent.

Sansa nods appreciatively at him, then turns to Jon who is putting the water-gun back into his schoolbag. Then he turns to look at her and smiles “I know Arya is making her way up the ranks of the game,” he says “I didn't imagine she would get you involved in this as well”

Sansa shrugs “She asked nicely”

Jon rises an eyebrow “Arya,” he specifies “asked nicely?” Sansa makes a grimace.

“Well she did put on her best kicked puppy face,” she says “and you know I am a sucker for that” she adds.

“That I know” he chuckles “Haven't seen you in quite some time, Robb told me you had enrolled, still I never saw you around this semester” he comments.

“Yeah,” she says “Mom needed help,” she shrugs “after dad's incident... they needed me home, so I took the online courses for the first semester” she tells him.

“Oh,” he says “and how's uncle Ned now?”

Jon is the son of their neighbor, Lyanna Snow, and since Lyanna had been, for most of Jon's infancy, a single, working mother he had spent most of his off-time from school in Winterfell manor after having befriended Robb at soccer training — well, if tale was correct Jon had put Robb on his ass more than once, knocking her brother down a peg or two the first time they met, but they had hit off and had been as close as brothers since — and he had ended up calling her father Uncle Ned and her mother aunt Cat.

“Better,” Sansa replies “I know you've been in contact, but you know how he is, always downplaying his own sufferings” she adds. Jon nods.

“Anyway,” Sansa says “he's started physiotherapy and the leg seem to be getting better. He won't get back on the motorcycle anymore, though” she adds “Theon, Robb's friend, the one who's still playing soccer— he's gotten dad in contact with a good physiotherapist” she says “Robb is very happy, also Bran is trying to help dad adjust as much as he can and Rickon is bringing them both outside every other week he has the weekend off from the matches” she reports.

Jon nods “It's good to hear he's feeling better,” he says “what about you?”

And Sansa blinks surprised “What about me?” she echoes. Jon rolls his eyes.

“How have you been?” he specifies.

Sansa has kind of forgotten who has been the last person asking her that. Her mother knows her so well she doesn't usually need to ask, same with Arya...still, it's nice that someone does ask how she's been. Makes her feel cared for.

She smiles “I've been better,” she says “but seeing they're all on the mend...it helps” she adds. Jon nods.

“How are the classes coming?” he asks “Robb told me you chose law”

Sansa nods. It had come as a surprise for most of her family, Robb had been the one they had expected to take law and take over their father in the law firm, but instead, Robb had chosen history, he still could do law, but he seemed... disillusioned about it. He had confessed it felt wrong for him. Sansa did not begrudge him that.

Everyone had expected her to take on some artistic faculty and honestly Sansa almost had, but in the end law had felt... right. She had been involved with her father and her brother in the open-days they had at the firm where they would listen probono to the plights of the people who couldn't afford their services usually and counseled them or offered them names they could go to, since she has been eleven. She likes helping people and being able to make the difference. So she has chosen law.

“I did,” she says “just felt right”

Jon leans his elbows on the table and ignores the various notifications he gets, probably because the video has been visualized by how many she cannot even fathom.

“Tell me”

And she does.

A waiter comes around, twenty or so minutes into their conversation and without ever breaking the flow of it Jon orders of some lemon cakes and an iced-marocchino for her.

She's astounded he still remembers her favorites.

In the end she shares with him her lemon cakes. He should feel very honored — and he says he does with a chuckle when he accepts half of one. He knows how much she enjoys lemon cakes.

It feels like an age since she's had such a real, easily flowing conversation with anyone and Jon seems genuinely interested and listens raptly to her. It's nice.

---

In the following month Jon becomes sort of a permanent fixture in her life. They live near each other, they discover, and they usually have the same timetable even if with different classes and Jon doesn't really mind hanging around the library as Sansa has her classes while working on his thesis so she doesn't have to walk back alone.

Not that she was before he started showing up at her door. Still.

Margaery and Myrcella have taken to call him her seriously hot stalker. Though can he be considered a stalker if Sansa never asked him to back off and actually enjoys his presence? She likes talking to him about the expectations for her classes and asking him how his thesis is coming; she enjoys the way he always offers to carry her schoolbag for her, or the way he lights up when, after he commented on the cafeteria's food, she hands him a small lunchbox with an handmade meal. She likes finding daisies and wildflowers pressed in between the pages on her notes after she's lent them to him because he forgot his paper-pad at home.

[He forgets it way too often — Sansa has a collection of pressed flowers that testify to that]

So what if she's fallen back into him? It's her heart, she can do with it as she pleases.

NOW

“—ARE YOU INSANE?!” she's drenched from head-to-toe, and her bangs are matted to her forehead, she rises a hand to push them back, her blue eyes glaring daggers at the man still crunched on the street's concrete the water-gun still in hand.

Jon's eyes though are a bit... focused on her breasts and Sansa is pretty sure her white top as become see-through thanks to the shower she has just taken, offered by yours truly at six in the evening in may.

She doesn't know what frustrates her more, the way Jon keeps looking at her like she's some kind of treasure he wants to covet but still won't make a move or the fact that he has made a move, only not in the way Sansa had been anxiously expecting him to.

The little shit.

She's about to yell at him some more, when she realizes that there is blood soaking the short-sleeve of Jon's black t-shirt. The idiot has gone and injured himself. Sansa should let him cook in his own supper and see how he likes that, still Jon is hurt, and caring for Jon's hurts is a second nature to her by now so she walks to him and she forces herself to ignore the way Jon's eyes are glued to her.

She leans forward, he has stood up, and he is barely a couple of inches taller than her, still he is looking only at her, as if he can see only her. She leans forward and she can see, can feel the way his gaze shift from her eyes to her lips, and maybe — maybe — she purses them a bit more on purpose. Then she rises a hand and presses on his arm. Jon yelps and jumps out of his skin.

“Serves you good,” she tells him “what kind of antic was that? Jumping out of a moving vehicle, really?” she doesn't hold back “you could've gotten seriously injured. Idiot”

Jon looks sheepishly down and mutters something.

“Do not mumble,” Sansa is having entirely too much fun with this, she has to keep her dignity some way even if drenched in the middle of the campus road “it is not becoming”

He looks pained “I said I knew it would look cool”

Sansa presses again against his arm only because of that and he flinches “Idiot,” she snaps “You don't need this kind foolery to look cool” she adds almost as an afterthought.

Jon looks way too smug as Sansa wraps her hand around his wrist and, without looking back, starts dragging him to infirmary of the campus. She feigns indifference when he shifts their hold so that they are holding hands, their fingers intertwined.

She can't be the one tending to him this time, because the cut is worse than she could treat on her own. He needs ten stitches, so when the nurse makes to have her leave, Jon grabs her hand tighter.

“She can stay,” he says and the nurse shifts her gaze between the two of them and their intertwined hands, then shrugs.

“It's not a pretty sight” she says “your girlfriend might not—”

“It's not a problem,” Sansa hastens to say.

She had meant to protest. She's not Jon's girlfriend, yet that's not what came out.

“I've—” she starts before she looses herself in the memories. She had been the one to find her father on the side of the road, half pressed down beneath the motorcycle two years ago, bloody and senseless. Jon's warm hold on her hand, firm but soft, grounds her, especially when he starts to draw patterns into the back of her hand “I've seen worse” she says and something in the thickness of her voice convinces the nurse.

“If at any point this is too much,” the nurse says sternly “you can walk out at any moment, I'll knock him out if I have to” she offers, her smile kind.

Sansa reads her name-tag and smiles “Thank you, nurse Westerling” she nods. The girl, who must be barely older than her, offers her a smile in return.

“You're welcome, and you can call me Jeyne”

Ten stitches after that Jeyne has left to go retrieve some painkillers for Jon and they're alone; Jon is inspecting his bended arm and Sansa whacks him behind the head.

“You're an idiot” she tells him.

“As things happens,” Jon says, his grin in place “Nurse Jeyne thinks I'm your idiot” he states.

“Don't look so smug,” Sansa says, she has tied her drying red hair in a messy bun and the fabric of her top is getting all crinkled and rough because of getting wet and dry in the heat of may directly fitting on her “I'm still mad at you,” she says “how could you?”

Jon is still holding her hand and drawing patterns with his thumb “You need to be specific with me, Sansa,” he tells her “to what are you referring to?”

So Sansa goes with the easiest “You had me as a target and you thought it would okay to jump out of a moving vehicle to make it look cool?”

Jon has the decency to look sheepish “Well I wanted to surprise you,” he says “You're way too aware of your surroundings, it's not human, I had to get creative” he adds.

Sansa sighs “You're an idiot,” she states. Though they've both learned that Sansa does have this kind of almost inhuman hyper-awareness of her surroundings. She secretly thinks it's cool, even if she downplays it.

She inhales and exhales shakily “How long?”

“Huh?”

Sansa straightens her shoulders “How long have you had me as a target?” she asks and Jon's cheeks redden.

“A month and half,” he mutters, so low that Sansa almost doesn't hear him.

She exhales “So...” she starts “you've been hanging around because you were planning your attack?” she asks “that's a lot of dedication to a game”

Jon looks suddenly angry, his eyes have darken and he reminds her of the way he looked every time he was about to swing a punch when they were teens.

Though there is a softness in the edges of the pools of molten brown of his eyes that he usually lacked. Maybe he's not angry, he's just intense. For some reason.

“You're such a clever woman,” he says “sometimes a wonder how you can be so dense,” he adds “the game was only an...excuse” he comments.

Sansa frowns.

“I—” he looks twice as pained as when Sansa had pressed at his wound back in the street “Good lord, this is hard,” he says “I have had a crush on you last year of high school,” he admits “or maybe a little longer”

Sansa is way too enticed to stop him from blabbering, so he goes on.

“Anyway,” he says “when you came up as a target I sort of...” his voice dies and he grimaces, he takes a breath “I had you as a target and I kind of justified hanging around you with me needing to stalk you for game purposes, you know instead of my renewed fancy on you” he admits.

He looks away “I thought about telling you many times,” he admits “but you seemed so genuinely happy to have me there that— I didn't want to risk it”

“Risk what?”

“Telling you,” he says still not looking at her “and be rejected or worse have you laugh at my face and asking me to back off. Loosing you for good” he tells her “I— I can't do this without you, not now, not anymore. I don't even want to.”

His speech is a bit muddled, but Sansa understands him anyway. She always did understand him, even when he had been drugged because he had gone to the dentist to take out his wisdom teeth at nineteen and he talked all slurred and no one else seemed to understand what he had been saying.

Sansa is just that attuned to him, she just understands him.

“Tell me,” she demands softly.

Jon turns and looks at her, she smiles at him shyly and he inhales deeply, but instead of talking, Jon rises his free hand and curls it behind Sansa's head and brings her flush against him, he is still sitting on the bed of the infirmary so he opens his legs just enough to let her stand in between and presses his lips against her surprised ones. Sansa had not expected that.

His lips are heated and they mold perfectly against hers, soft and unrelenting, curling and devouring her own thin, but plump lips. Jon keeps it chaste, but not for that less intense, then he draws back and looks at her from beneath his entirely too-long-and-thus-wasted-on-a-man lashes.

Her lips tingle from his touch, and she misses the heat of his mouth against hers. It should be illegal. Now that he has kissed her, he should not stop doing it. Ever.

It isn't fair, he doesn't look half as affected as she feels.

“I have you as a target,” he tells her and his voice is thick and emotional, but even and confident and the heat pooling in his eyes?, makes her feel breathless “but stalking you has made me fall in love with you,” and Sansa's heart skip a beat “again,” he adds “and again and again. Irrevocably” he says.

Sansa feels simultaneously as if she can't breath and she is breathing for the first time since a life in apnea. Her entire being so attuned with him that Sansa feels as if she's completely being is filled with him, a synesthesia in which she cannot tell anymore where her sensory system ends and where his begins. His touch on the back of her head, at the nape of her hair and at her hand is a balm, soothing her fraying nerves.

“I love you too” she says.

He smiles. He's smug.

“I know, baby” he says. Still, Sansa doesn't feel the slightest sorry when she curls her free hand around the paper-glass of water she's asked for to nurse Jeyne before pouring it on his head, careful that his arm doesn't get wet.

She giggles at his surprises and offended look.

She turns around and looks at nurse Jeyne; she had felt a bit stupid, asking the woman that, but when she had asked for the glass of water she had explained to her what had happened and the nurse had agreed with an endearing grin to help her out and film the whole thing — even if that had turned out to be a whole declaration —; and smiles.

“Did you record that?” she asks.

The woman nods “I did,” she confirms “all of it, it was very sweet” she concedes.

And Sansa turns smiling at Jon “Sorry,” she says though she doesn't sound regretful at all, and she isn't “I had you as a target as well,” she says “though I did fall in love with you before you became a target”

The growls that tears at Jon's throat is almost obscene before he crashes their lips back together, this time devouring her. And the world is good.

FOUR YEARS FROM NOW

Robb helps Jeyne stands up and on the elevated stand. He's such a gentleman with her; Sansa is very happy Jon's small trip to the campus infirmary has spurned into action a channel of events that have brought Robb and Jeyne together, because they are quite clearly made for each other.

“I met Jon and Sansa,” Jeyne says “the day they finally got together,” there are some chuckles and Jon keeps nuzzling the side of her face. He is sitting with his chair as close as he can to her, on leg swung behind the back of her chair so that he is effectively wrapped around her “the story is kind of cute,” she tells their audience “Jon had jumped out of a moving vehicle to make his video of finally hitting his target, Sansa, cooler”

Robert Baratheon's laugh is boisterous back in the table in which they've put him, with her parents. He has divorced his nasty wife, Cersei two years ago, and Sansa could not fault her father's the presence of his best friend. Lyanna Snow sit next to him looks half endeared, half embarrassed by his display.

Sansa wonders when Lyanna will finally work out the guts to tell Jon about them. Jon will probably go ballistic. He is as overprotective over her as he is of his own mother, but Sansa likes to think that Robert really does love Lyanna. His eyes shine when he looks at her, in a way they never did when he looks at Cersei.

She'll speak to Jon when the times come. Make him reasonable about it.

“He needed ten stitches on the upper half of his arm because of that,” Jeyne continues “at least he has a scar to speak of his attempts to woo his wife”

This time the chuckle comes from near her ear.

“I have many more scars that testify to that,” Jon whispers in her ear “I've been wooing you since I was seventeen” he adds as Sansa caresses his knuckles, where she knows rest some small, almost undistinguishable scars of all the times he has punched someone for her.

She's discovered there were quite the number of times. Look like she was some kind of celebrity back in their high school days and Sansa had been spared the worst burnt of it because Jon had been taking care of the guys planning to make fun of her, or play with her feelings or simply talking distastefully of her, off screen all this time.

His voice, her husband's voice, low and raw sends a thrilled shiver down her spine.

“I'd like to tell you the tale of it, but—” Jeyne is saying “I can make you witness to that as well, as I've saved the recording of it for a long time now”

And Sansa had not expected that. Jeyne presses a button and suddenly they are on the screen.

Sansa slipping at Jon's table, recorded by Satin and asking Jon to pretending to be her partner and breaking up with her to make the guy targeting her feel bad and leave her alone, for him to then hit him as the guy had been his target.

Then — fast forward — with a series of pictures Jon and Sansa had taken, or that their friends had taken of them during the almost two months they had spent together before getting together for good, in may.

Suddenly the moving car comes into vision, or well, the moving recording of the entire scene from the inside of the car comes onto the screen with Jon jumping out of the slowing but still moving, still moving, still moving car. The startled look on Sansa's face as Jon fired on her, water dripping for her chin and drenching her white, see-through top; thank the Gods she had been wearing a white, bland bra, thus making it at least less embarrassing.

Sansa has to laugh with the audience when her twenty-years-old version pushes her wet bangs out of her eyes and stalks to Jon to make him jump out of his skin because she has probed at his wound.

“Such a meanie” Jon whispers, his nose nuzzling up and down the side of her face, his hand grabbing at her tight.

Seeing the way Jon's face was completely focused on her, a laser focus makes her feel almost as elated as when Jon has slipped her ring on her finger earlier.

Then fast-forward to Jon smooching her silly in the infirmary, which has Robert Baratheon laughing again and her mother softly smiling at them. Her father looks a little peeved out, she's still his little girl after all, but his eyes betray that he's happy she's happy.

Then to Sansa pouring her glass of water over Jon's head. Thankfully the video closes on that as twenty-two years old Jon brings her flush against him again to kiss her passionately, darkening before it becomes to damning.

Sansa is so touched by it, as after that a series of photos of them, of their voyages together, of their long nights pulled during his last months before graduations and her exams sessions pass in rapid succession.

And, exactly at the video they played before, the entire of the world was in tones of black and white, while she and Jon...they were screaming in color.

Jon kisses her softly “Are you happy, Mrs Snow?” he asks.

Sansa looks up at him and beams “I am, Mr Snow,” she tells him, she looks back at Jeyne as her pregnant sister-in-law rises her toast to the newlyweds.

Jon kisses her lips as the guests of their wedding clap, their friends whistle and clap “I think we really won,” he says. That year Arya won the championship, but Jon and Sansa won each other.

“Yes,” Sansa says caressing his face “we really did”

Fin

You can find both this and the first one on ao3 (x)

Hope you enjoyed, anon! And, as always, thank you so much for the prompt, I have incredible fun writing it!, hope to get many more. I wish you an amazing day!

[sketching-shark]

LMK fandom: Oh, what do we do about this guy who has nothing but hurt Xiaotian, tried to replace Sun Wukong and his crew, hurt Tripitaka and ordered servants to cannibalize a monkey? Oh I know! We’ll turn him into our little meow meow~ he’s so innocent and Sun Wukong is obviously the villain!

What doesn’t help is this idea is perpetuated by multiple fan fic writers and artists for some reason. Especially some aus they make that turn SWK into a bastard for the sake of the story rather than considering cultural context and thinking they should be respectful.

And almost everyone lets them get away with it just because the art or fanfic is good and they get so popular that no one can point what is actually wrong without feeling like they’re going to get attacked.

I'm starting to feel like my blog is the one anons go to specifically to vent their frustrations about the Six Eared Macaque in his lego monkey show form & the associated fandom lmao. But I guess this makes sense, as I’ve had fun quasi-dragging him before & will in fact use this anon submission as an opportunity to have my own, to put it academically, bitch fest about not just this fandom's favorite protagonist-traumatizing meow meow, but about the way villains are often treated in not just fanon, but increasingly in canon works as well. But same policy as with the last anon; I'll post my opinions below the cut, and as fandoms love to say, don’t like don't read if you don't want to see me dunking on the six eared simian & common fandom tendencies towards villains.

Oh man I would say where would you even begin with this but anon you’ve pretty much started yourself with my main gripe with a lot of ways that the Six-Eared Macaque is portrayed in fandom; there seems to be this unspoken agreement that his acts of violence towards Sun Wukong, Qi Xioatian, and Qi Xioatian’s loved ones are either to be framed as somewhat or totally justified, to be immediately forgiven/excused, or to simply & completely be ignored. Like friends maybe this is just me not seeing the proper posts but while the fandom is inundated with art and fanfics of Macaque as a generally decent individual & a true member of team good guy, I have yet to see one person address the fact that this monkey literally kidnapped & mind-controlled Xiaotian’s best friend and father figures & forced them to brutalize Xiaotian while ol’ Six Ear looked on and laughed (X_X). Like this kind of fandom villain treatment is definitely not something that’s solely at work for Monkie Kid, but it is kind of nutty how fandoms will swing between yelling that people should be allowed to like villains without even mild critique, and then will just flat-out not address the villainous behavior, and will even bend over backwards to frame even characters who committed genocide as just poor innocent widdle victims who need a hug. At its worst, I’ve even seen tons of people in a fandom get really angry at other people who don’t like a villain, and will even start accusing those people of hating real-life mentally disabled or abused individuals all because they don’t like the fandom’s favorite literal war criminal. The Monkie Kid fandom is FAR more chill & better than a lot of other fandoms I’ve come across in that regard, but that is an exceedingly low bar, & the tendency to woobify certain kinds of villains-- as with Macaque and the extreme emphasis on his bad boy/sad boy thing--is very much at work.  

 I’ve also talked before about a kind of monoculturalization of certain character interpretations and story beats in fandoms, and one of the more popular ones that seems to be applied to Macaque a lot is the “hero actually bad, villain actually good” cliche, as observable from the general fandom assumption that Mr. Six-Ears he wasn’t even slightly lying or remembering things through a rose-tinted or skewed lens when he gave his version of his and Sun Wukong’s past. Like at this point it seems the possibility that people WILL NOT even consider is that Sun Wukong never did & still doesn't care that much about the Six Eared Macaque (in JTTW they weren’t sworn brothers & in Monkie Kid the only thing the monkey king really said to Macaque before attacking him was a pretty contemptuous "Aren't you ever going to get sick of living under my shadow?," & responds to his "beloved friend" getting blown up with "You did good, bud" to Qi Xiaotian, who did the exploding), or that their original fight may in fact have mostly been instigated by Macaque. After all, to repeat what this anon summarized & what I've said before about their original JTTW context (& in an example of the things that do feel like it's often lost in translation) is that the Six Ear Macaque was a villain not just because he beat up the Tang Monk, but because he wanted to take over Sun Wukong's entire life and identity so he could have all that glory, prestige, and power for himself. To quote the macaque himself from the Anthony C. Yu translation, "I struck the T'ang monk and I took the luggage...precisely because I want to go to the West all by myself to ask Buddha for the scriptures. When I deliver them to the Land of the East, it will be my success and no one else's. Those people of the South Jambudvipa Continent will honor me then as their patriarch and my fame will last for all posterity." And in order to do this, the Six Eared Macaque had apparently made Sun Wukong's "little ones," his monkey family, his captives through either trickery or force, and gotten a number of them to take on the appearance of Tang Sanzang and the other pilgrims. It's also made clear that in very direct contrast to Sun Wukong, he doesn't care about these monkeys beyond how they might serve him. In fact, after Sha Wujing kills the monkey posing as him the Six Eared Macaque not only all but immediately replaces him with another, but also "told his little ones to have the dead monkey skinned. Then his meat was taken to be fried and served as food along with coconut and grape wines." So this monkey is not only willing to risk the lives of a lot of other monkeys for his own personal benefit, but is also a literal cannibal. And yes yes, I know a lot of people have argued that Monkie Kid shouldn't be considered a direct sequel to JTTW & that's fair enough (for example, Sun Wukong probably shouldn't be smashing anyone into a meat patty in a children's cartoon lol). And of course, it needs to be noted that there are a buttload of really out there & really cursed pieces of media based on JTTW & that were created in China. Yet the above description is the oft-ignored in the west original facet of the Six Eared Macaque's character. And it is this selfishness, entitlement, and treatment of other individuals as tools for his own self-serving ends  that is, from where I’m standing, still very much present in Monkie Kid. Like besides repeatedly going out of his way to physically and psychologically traumatize Xioatian, with the last episode Macaque seemed to be going right back to his manipulative ways. I’ve seen people frame their last conversation as Macaque softening to Xioatian a little bit, but personally that read a lot more like that common tactic among abusers where even after they’ve hurt you they’ll dangle something you want or need over your head (in Macaque’s case, the promise of desperately needed training and information about a serious looming threat), with the implication that you’ll only get it if you do what they want you to, such as, in this case, Xioatian going back to Macaque as his student even after having been so terribly hurt by this monkey, which would give Macaque power over Xiaotian and probably Sun Wukong as a result. And it is this violence and manipulation that it seems the fandom at large has tacitly decided shouldn’t even be addressed, instead leaning more towards a (and this is an exaggeration) “Six-Eared Macaque my poor meow meow Sun Wukong has always been bad & has always been wrong about literally everything” reading. 

And while it is the case that I am not Chinese and feel that as such it would be best left to someone who actually comes from that background to provide more context into how common interpretations of the Six Eared Macaque from China may clash really badly with the stuff the western fandom creates, it also must be noted that, as much as we all want to have fun in fandom & in spite of all the out-there versions of JTTW from China, we westerners should recognize that there is a very long and very ugly history of western countries stripping other cultures’ important religious and literary works for parts & mashing them into their own thing while implying or even insisting that what they present provides a true understanding of the original piece. And while I trust most individuals in regards to Monkie Kid are able to step back and think “this is a lego cartoon and not a set guide for how I should understand JTTW” (especially given the insistence that JTTW and Monkie Kid should be considered there own separate works) there does nevertheless seem to be something of a tendency to take the conclusions people come to, for example, about Sun Wukong’s characteristic in his lego form & then assume that’s just reflective to Sun Wukong as a totality. I imagine a good portion of this is due to people not reading JTTW & especially to not having easy access to solid information or answers about JTTW’s many different facets (like geez awhile ago I was trying to get a clear answer on what is considered the most accurate translation of the names of Sun Wukong’s six sworn brothers & got like 5 different responses lmao), but that tendency to take a western fandom interpretation & run with it instead of doing any background research or questioning said interpretation is still very much at play. As such, & as made prominent in the way people have been interpreting the dynamic between Sun Wukong and the Six Eared Macaque in the lego monkey show, tbh it does seem kind of shitty for western creators & audience to sometimes go really out of their way to ignore all of this original cultural & narrative context for the sake of Angst (TM) in Macaque's favor, demonizing Sun Wukong, and shipping the monkey king with his evil twin (X_X).

And speaking of which, even beyond the potential inherent creepiness & revulsion that can be inspired by this specific ship given common interpretations of the og classic's original meaning (again, it's my understanding, given both summaries of translated Chinese academic texts I've been kindly provided with, my own reading of the Anthony C. Yu translation of JTTW, & vents from a number of Chinese people I've seen on this site, that the Six-Eared Macaque is commonly interpreted in China as having originated from Sun Wukong himself as a living embodiment of his worst traits, hence why only Buddha can tell the difference between them & why the monkey king is much more slow to violence after he kills the macaque), I'd argue that in the face of all the uwu poor widdle meow meow portrayals lego show Macaque is, especially if you include JTTW's events, still in the role of “Sun Wukong but worse” as he is very much a violent & selfish creep. Like he was basically running around in JTTW wearing a Sun Wukong fursuit, but there he had the sole reason of wanting to replace Sun Wukong wholesale so he could have all the good things in the monkey king's life without actually having to work as hard for them. But if you combine that with Macaque now claiming that he used to be best friend with Sun Wukong in his pre-journey days (something that's made funny from a JTTW context given that that status actually belongs to the Demon Bull King lol), his original violence has now blown into this centuries long and really unhealthy obsession with the monkey king. Like he's apparently gone from wanting to literally be Sun Wukong to being so obsessed with getting revenge on Sun Wukong that he's got basically nothing else going on in his life. Like he's only appeared in two episodes but...does he have any friends? Any family? A career or even a hobby that DOESN'T center the monkey king? Anything at all outside of his "get revenge on and/or kill Sun Wukong/use his successor as my personal punching bag” thing? Like dude! That is extremely creepy and extremely bad for everyone all around! As I’ve said before, this seeming refusal to see beyond the past or to do something that doesn’t involve Sun Wukong in some capacity is a trait that makes Macaque an interesting and somewhat tragic villain--he even seems to be working as Sun Wukong’s reflection in a mirror darkly, with lego show Sun Wukong pretty clearly not being able to heal from his own past which is hinted to be defined by one loss after another, and with Monkie Kid even kind of having these two characters somewhat follow their JTTW characterizations in that in the latter half of the journey Sun Wukong often gets sad & starts crying in the face of what seems insurmountable odds (& Monkie Kid Sun Wukong does seem to be hiding some serious depression behind a cheerful facade), whereas the Six-Eared Macaque retains a worse version of Sun Wukong’s pre-journey characteristic of getting pissed and lashing out if things don’t go his way--but it’s also what would make any current friendship or romantic relationship between these monkeys horrific. Although to be fair even the fandom seems to recognize this in an unconscious way, in that a lot of the art & fanfic seems to swing erratically between them kissing & screaming at each other in yet another example of bog-standard fandom adulation of romanticized toxic relationships lol.  

At the end of the day, of course, this is nothing new. You'll find versions of this dynamic across a ton of fandoms and now even canonical work. And as such, I can only look at this kind of popularized relationship dynamic with a kind of resigned weariness whenever it pops up, & my frustrated question with the popularity of this kind of pairing is the exact same one that I have for a multitude of blatantly toxic villain/hero ships, given common fandom discourse & the tendency to either ignore or justify the villain's actions & demonize the hero: if you're THAT convinced that everything is the hero's fault, if you believe THAT much that the hero is the one in the wrong for the villain's pain and their subsequent actions, then why are you so set on them not only becoming a romantic pair, but framing this get-together as a good thing? Like I know we contain multitudes but that's waaay too many contradictions for me to wrap my head around. And it definitely doesn’t help that one branch of underlying reasoning behind this kind of pairing seems to be the ever-present “you break it, you fix it” mentality, where the assumption is that if you’re in a failing, abusive, and/or generally toxic relationship (platonically or romantically), if you put in enough time and effort & attempts to compromise, you’ll be able to restore/have the relationship you dreamed of, even with someone who hurt you really badly. And this assumption isn’t limited to fandom: I’d even argue that it’s everywhere in the culture, hence why a lot of people feel like they “failed” if they have to get a divorce or make the choice to leave an unhealthy friendship. Personally, I feel like people could really benefit from more stories about how it is not only the case that the people you hurt don’t owe you their forgiveness & you can still become a better and happier person without the one you hurt in your life, & that while it can be really hard it can also be a good thing to leave a relationship, even if it’s one that once meant a lot to you. 

  But in all honestly, from my own perspective this kind of pairing is starting to read far less like enemies to lovers and far more like a horrible fantasy where you can pull whatever shit you want, even on the people you "love," & never be held accountable for your terrible behavior or even have to consider that maybe you were in the wrong. It's another facet that makes me larf every time I see people insist that fandom is an inherently "transformative" or "progressive" form of storytelling like friends you are literally just taking status quo toxic monogamy & rebranding it as somehow beneficial & romantic (X_X).

But as to anon’s last frustration, it is hard to know what is the appropriate response with this kind of thing...like for my own part I’m keeping my frustrations to my blog & now increasingly to posts that you would have to click on the “read more” button to see what I have to say, but I totally get the hesitation to give even a mild critique to big names in a fandom. Like I've now seen it happen repeatedly where someone who has a big name in a fandom will make something that's kind of shitty for one reason or another, someone will message them with some version of "hey, that's kind of shitty, you shouldn't do that," and the typical response is either to blatantly ignore the issue completely, or more popularly to make a giant crying circus that seems deliberately geared towards stoking emotions on both sides of the, for example, fiction does/doesn't affect reality issue so that something that didn't even have to be that big a deal gets blown out of all proportion, with the big name often framing what often started out as a very mild critique into a long crying jag about how the initial response to their kind of shitty thing was so mean/cruel and they're just a poor innocent & that YOU'RE the true racist/sexist/bigot etc. if you don't agree with their opinion. It must of course be noted that there have also been numerous instances of people taking it too far the other way & sending not just big names but smaller creators literal deaths threats over stuff like innocuous ships which like holy hell bells people that’s a horrible thing to do. But for the big names at least, the end result of all this fighting is usually that once the dust has settled they have more attention/fame/money/power in the fandom than before, and with anyone who might have a problem with their stuff feeling afraid to voice their opinion lest they be swarmed by that person's fans. In that way fandom does often seem to increasingly be geared towards presenting an “official” fandom perspective about various facets of a piece of media instead of allowing for a multitude of interpretations, and with criticism, no matter its shape or form or how genuinely warranted it may be, being hounded out of existence. I feel like a lot of this could be made less bad if there wasn’t this constant assumption & even drive to think that a different interpretation of or criticism of your favorite work of fiction or your fanwork isn’t a direct claim that you are a thoroughly loathsome individual (& maybe also if people cultivated an enjoyment of learning things about important works from a culture outside their own, even if what you learn clashes with your own initial understandings), but I guess we’ll see if that ever happens. 

So these are my general thinks about the Six Eared Macaque’s current fandom meow meow status & some of my bigger gripes with fandom tendencies as a whole. I stand by my idea that the most interesting & beneficial route for Macaque moving forward would be a kind of “redemption without forgiveness from the ones you hurt” arc--as I think was done pretty excellently with the character Grace in Infinity Train--and if for no other reason than gosh dern this monkey really needs to cultivate some sort of identity beyond his “Sun Wukong but worse” persona. 

[theangrycomet-art]

You keep using that Word...

The Argentinian liked to consider himself an intelligent man.

Maybe not every night, if his bar tab was anything to go by, but most days of the week. He knew his mind was as sharp as his blade. And as the Phantom climbed up the cliffs, it was starting to tell him that this supposedly brilliant plan was definitively not.

"He's climbing the rope." He observed, voice a mix of surprise and mild admiration. "And he's gaining on us."

"P-p-Preposterous!" The Crab sniffed, claws clicking in agitation as he peered down below.

There was the man in black, climbing the rope and, as the Argentinian had noted, was quickly gaining.

How strong is a man that can beat a Lemurian climbing? He mused, numbers playing in the corners of his vision as the Crab returned to his senses.

"Hurry up you b-blundering mammal!" He snapped. "Faster, faster!"

The Phantom grumbled, sticking his tongue out at the crab.

"What did it say?" He demanded, tilting to the Argentinian, who was still staring curiously at the man below.

"Hm?" Glancing up at them, he shrugged dismisively, forming air quotes with his hands as he spoke. "Oh- he said he's going 'faster' already."

The Crab began to lose it.

"I thought you were this collosus! You were this g-great legendary thing!" Claw jutting sharply downward, the rope swang a bit, leaving Gwendolyn to cling tighter to the Phantom's fur. "AND yet, he gains."

More grumbles ensued from the Phantom as he made their way up the cliffs.

"Well?" The Crab demanded.

"Well what?" The Argentinian replied.

"What did it say?"

"He's climbing for four, while the man's climbing for one." A quick glance below confirmed that the man was still climbing, seemingly faster. "It's hardly a fair comparison considering."

"I don't want excuses! If that's how it's going to be I'll just find myself a new Fiskerton Phantom."

A low whine, and his speed increased.

"Well?" The Crab demanded once more.

"Well now you've just hurt his feelings."

"Well GOOD! In case I wasn't p-perfectly clear your job is at stake! And I use the term loosely." Grooming his mustache nervously, the Crab's eyes narrowed on their follower. "Human's aren't supposed to be good at climbing."

The Argentinian decided not to point out the evolutionary process of humans very much involving climbing and instead focused on the nearing edge of the cliffs.

A few terse minutes later- the man gaining every one of them- they finally reached the top. The Phantom reached behind him, slipping his hand around the Argentinian's waist, and placing him over the edge.

Reaching down, he grabbed their captive's arms, pulling her up as the Phantom pushed, repeating the process less easily with the crab. The Man was no more than 200 feet from the ledge when he'd managed to get the Phantom back to his feet.

The Crab scuttled over to the rope. WIth a victorious laugh, he snapped his claw around it, snipping it in two.

Exchanging a glance as the rope whizzed past them, the Argentinian and the Phantom peered over the ledge's rocks curiously.

Chittering excitedly, the Phantom gestured to the arm.

"That he does." the Argentinian agreed, impressed.

"What?" The Crab scuttled over to where his lackey's stood, before sputtering incomprehensibly.

"HE DIDN'T FALL?! P-PREPOSTEROUS!"

"You keep using that word." The Argentinian turned to the Crab as he turned his glare to him. "I don't think it means what you think it means.

The crab glowered briefly at him as he steamed.

-//-

The reason I'm referring to Cesar as the Argentinian and Fisk as the Phantom at this point is because in the book, the reader still didn't know their names. Since the audience didn't know the character's yet, so they were simply "the Spaniard" and "the Turk".

There's another post that explains it better, but it's a wonderful detail that shows the exact moment when the reader finds out the heart and souls of these characters. When you read the book you'll see what I mean.

So that's why I'm implementing it here.

Caesar can understand Fisk most of the time- it’s more of a loose sense of the words than specific semantics. The feeling’s mutual.

[ashdownunderscorebeloved]

I’ve never done something like this before but I wanted to just to try my hand at it! So, my friends and I play this game where if someone says or does something really stupid or really funny, you can “copy” what they say and anytime someone tells you to “paste”, you have to do or say the thing no matter what you’re doing! We’ve gotten some pretty good things so I wanted to make little headcanon thingies for the brothers! I’m sorry this is a real big blurb thing but oh whale. Side notes; I have indeed been copied on all of these, and I’m doing this on mobile so if formatting is weird I’m sorry!

The Brothers playing “Copy, Paste”

T/W: not sure? Mild NSFW I think, mild swearing, some people don’t like it but MCYT is mentioned

Lucifer

You and Lucifer were sitting in his study, you were scrolling through Devilgram and he was doing paperwork as usual

You had just seen a wonderful meme and just had to read it to him, you had completely forgotten you had explained the rules of Copy, Paste just a few days before

“Hey Lucifer!”

“You can’t spell subtext without buttsex.”

Oh was that a mistake...

A smirk spread across his face, he set down his pen and stared at you for a moment before that dreaded word came from him. “Copy.”

Of course he would paste you one delightful evening when you were both having tea with Diavolo and Barbatos.

Tea totally came out of Diavolo’s nose when you said it

Mammon

Mammon barged into your room one day as always and the first words out of his mouth were “MC, I’m bored! Ya got any plans?”

You weren’t really doing anything so you decided to hang out with your first man

You were on your way to Majolish when he said something incredible

It would’ve been a somewhat normal sentence if he hadn’t decided to add those three words.

His D.D.D. had been going off the whole time in his back pocket and he wasn’t happy with it.

“Damn it! Knock it off, will ya? Just all buzz buzz buzz buzz. In my butt.”

The sound that left you was one of a dying cat. “Copy. Copy copy copy!”

“NO!”

You pasted him at dinner that same day, the reactions were amazing.

Leviathan

You had offhandedly mentioned to Levi that right now, Minecraft YouTubers were crazy popular in the human world so naturally he became Dream’s biggest fan

What you weren’t expecting was for him to learn. Every. Single. TommyInnit. Quote.

One day he had just watched a SleepyBoisInc compilation and he thought it was just so funny.

You had already made plans with him for that day to play Minecraft together because boy is he obsessed

It was around thirty minutes into the session and he hadn’t really said much, until he turned and looked you dead in the eye.

“Just killed a woman, feelin’ good.”

“Yup, that’s gonna be a copy from me.”

“Thanks” *deep breath* “Home home.”

You two paste each other quite often and every time he gets so flustered it’s absolutely adorable.

Satan

You’re not sure how this conversation even came about.

It started off talking about weird things humans can do and their evolution, how in the world did these words end up coming out of your mouth?

You probably ended up talking about bodily functions that humans and demons share, which was definitely as gross as it sounds.

“Ah, ass air. Gamer girls could probably sell it. Delicious bottled ass air.”

“MC...copy?”

“Oh no.”

He pastes you any chance he can get, especially if it could embarrass either you or Lucifer. You’re all out with Diavolo? Paste. You’re meeting a very important high ranking demon? Paste.

Asmodeus

Asmo had invited you to his room for a self care sleepover and as usual he went all out for you

I’m talking a complete 372629293 step skincare routine, a hot bath, massage, nails, everything

He was getting ready to put some lotion on your arms and hands but when he pressed the pump down it just shot out

You both were taken aback, and whoever possessed you in that moment must’ve thought it was real funny because you looked Asmodeus dead in the eye and said, “What a cumshot!”

“One, copy. Two, if you thought that was a good cumshot then you’re missing out.”

Asmo first pasted you in front of Mammon, just to see his reaction. Poor thing.

Beelzebub

It was time for a midnight snack with Beel, aka you talking to him while he inhaled the entire kitchen.

Beel wasn’t paying attention to the fridge, more focused on the very intense look on your face as you played a game on your DDD. You just looked so cute

His finger slid right into some custard, he pulled his finger out and turned to you.

He held his finger up to show you before cleaning licking it off. “MC. Do you like my finger?”

For some reason, that made you laugh so hard you nearly fell off the counter.

Somewhere in your laugh attack, you managed to wheeze out. “Copy, goodness gracious. Copy!”

You really only paste him when you’re alone, but just one time you pasted him in front of Lucifer who looked utterly confused. I mean...context?

Belphegor

You and Belphie were cuddling in the attic room, him half asleep and you scrolling through Devilgram.

You had just read a very sad fanfiction based on The Lord of Shadows and Henry, one that actually drove you to tears.

Belphie, being Belphie, decided he wanted attention so what’s the first thing the gremlin tries to do? Bite your hair.

“Belphie! Don’t bite my hair, I’m too sad!” You cried out, and he stopped.

He stared at you for a few moments before he spoke. “Copy.”

You were still upset when he pasted you, Beel had come up with snacks and was very confused as to why you were upset.

Maybe you should cuddle him instead of the hair biter. Love you Belphie but come on!

[ambeauty]

Don’t Hurt Yourself

Dick was a little shit in Gotham and Kory has had enough.

They are on their first night stretch of the road trip and Kory is djing as she planned to do and Dick is driving the RV suspecting that something is boiling beneath the surface with Kory. I Will Survive is playing on the radio and Kory is looking at Dick with a side eye. She had been quiet for the past thirty minutes playing Words with Friends on her phone. “Something wrong?” Dick asks not used to her being this quiet. “Nope.” She says and reaches over to turn the music up a little louder. “Are you sure?” He says over the music. “You’re a bit of an asshole.” She replies under her breath. “Excuse me?!” He scoffs. He still managed to hear her with his sharp hearing. “You asked us to go to Gotham and then you pulled so much shit on us. It’s a miracle we managed to save ourselves and Jason this time.” She explains getting more annoyed with every breath. “I told you Gotham was dangerous but you wanted to show them no mercy.” He says using her own quote against. “Yeah because I was pissed. I didn’t think that would mean you’d slide all the way back into being a Dick I didn’t recognize.” She retorts. “Jason died and was resurrected and working with fucking Scarecrow of all people. Bruce officially lost it. Barbara was depending on me. Not to mention everything else. It was a fucking lot ok!” Dick’s hand tighten on the steering wheel a little harder. They were loud whispering because it was late and the kids were sleeping as far as they knew. It had been a couple hours since the normal ruckus they caused had died down. “IT WAS A LOT FOR US! You got shot TWICE. And DIED Once! You know I always says if you die I will kill you and I fucking mean it GRAYSON. Luckily Rachel and Gar were smart enough to save your ass and I was otherwise occupied.” Kory exclaims losing control and raising her voice a few octaves louder than what they were managing.

Dick glances at her face slightly red but still keeping his whisper under control. “Damn I died and you’re still mad at me. What do I have do to get some grace?” he sighs. “Not treat the people that love you like shit,” she whispers. “Wait… say that a little louder,” he smirks a little. “If I still had fire power, I might light your shirt on fire, just a little. You really make things way harder than they need to be.” She breathes out ignoring his dimple that threaten her defenses. “No don’t try to change the subject, say what you said before,” His smile growing and his eyes squinting. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you. Fucking dick,” she turns toward the window, trying to ignore him. “Nuh uh Princess. I am not letting you off that easily,” He grabs her thigh and turns her back toward him. “So you love me huh?” He asks fully smiling at her now. “Dick I am so fucking angry at you. Love is the last thing I am thinking about,” She breathes out eyes flashing green as a mild warning. Kory rarely gets this upset with him. The thought intrigues him even though he would not dare admit it in this moment. “Are you threatening me?” He laughs. “Maybe a little,” she smiles secretly. “You know I didn’t die on purpose right?” He asks a less defensive. “Yes I know you didn’t but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t stupid as fuck. You literally put down two of our the strongest teammates. Just because Jason, your little brother was fucking up again. Only this time on a city wide scale. You Waynes can be unbelievable and a giant pain in the ass,” she shakes her head.

However, she did notice that Dick never moved his hand off her thigh. He rubs it softly, trying to calm her. “It’s extremely hard for me to do this but I think you guys deserve to hear it. You especially Kory. Even though dying really sucked it put some things in perspective for sure.” He admits reluctantly. Kory found herself softening slightly but she still could not help how annoying he was. “Go on,” she encourages while also rolling her eyes. “I am so fucking selfish sometimes but I love you guys too. It’s hard for me to show it and I try to show it with my actions but it doesn’t always work out how I plan. I promise I won’t ever put you in that position again. What we have, what this family is, it means more to me than you know. Our future is the only thing that concerns me.” He squeezes her thigh.

“Dick you always try to smile and flirt your way out of shit. I am so tired.” She exhales as her voice starts to lose its edge with exhaustion. He chuckles, “I promise I am so serious right now. Please Princess Koriand’r. Forgive me, Richard John Grayson, for being a complete and total fuck up in Gotham. I promise not to die again and leave you a single mother to our five children. You have my permission to kill me if I die. ” He moves his hand up slowly from her thigh and reaches up to squeeze her hand with another shit eating grin. Kory pauses and starts silently counting the minors they are responsible for in the RV. “Richard, don’t try this shit again,” she grins. “Hold on, there are only four kids in the car. You said five super confident.” She adds. “No I said four,” he reacts quickly and turns to his focus back on the road. She smacks the back of his head kind of hard but kind of playfully. “Nope don’t lie to me,” she pushes. “I was counting Krypto,” he recovers jumping a little from her slap and slightly pulls on his shirt collar from almost getting caught. “Uh huh…” she side eyes him again but drops it and turns up the volume on Last Dance. His eyes twinkle slightly as he thinks about the miniature image of Kory he found in the forest who called him Daddy.

*******************************************

Dick’s attitude was on my spirit. He deserves a proper cussing out for once. Let me know what you think!