#but I'm pretty sure that the author got published

[dallysdolly444]

jj x minor e-celeb!reader

summary: jj and his little e-girl gf, based off that 'insta models' line from season 1 (rip). fem!reader soz <3 warnings: crude language, allusions to sexual content (nothing actually), jj being a dog, brief mentions of stalking, brief mention to body issues/ed, lmk if i missed anythingg <3

it all started when... jj saw this cute girl on his instagram feed. pink everything, pretty hair, banging body... he started dropping likes, being really nonchalant, before the comments. 'baddie 😍' '🔥🔥🔥' 'i must've gone fishing... because you're the perfect catch' he wasn't the only one, of course, but he sure was persistent. you were always one to be sweet to fans, so a like there, a sweet reply there. he never dm'd you, only really lurking in the comments, so you made the first move. 'liking my posts, commenting corny pick up lines, but never dming me? suspicious.' he was over the moon, texted his friends immediately about the insta girl he likes actually texted him back??? what world is he even in??? he was so excited he forgot to text back, he was too busy texting the pogues about texting you back. 'maybe i'm just nonchalant' was his reply, and soon after, he got his. 'making me wait, i see? aren't u supposed to be my simp????' you questioned, no doubt smiling while you typed it. 'i most definitely am 🫡. ur so dang pretty mama' he texts back, almost proudly. 'so much for nonchalant' was all he got in return. chatting became almost a nightly ritual for you two, a chronically online loser with no friends and a guy way too obsessed with her. dumb memes, texting un til midnight, mayyybeee some special photos just for him. all the while, he'd yap to his friends. 'she's so cool', 'she's so pretty', 'she's so funny', 'i'm totally in love with her' was something the pogues had to deal with pretty much on the regular. eventually, texting became face timing. playing dumb video games, doing karaoke or just chatting about anything. jj really had become your best friend. you barely posted on instagram anymore, which was bad enough for your 'simps', but your biggest mistake was posting a story about being on face time. less favourable fans went crazy, so crazy you had to turn off dm's. and jj was there to comfort you. he was there when you quit instagram, he was there when you wanted to go back. it was never good for you anyways, it fed into that unhealthy need for praise and attention, and that even worse attachment to being slim. but he was there. so you finally took the ferry from the mainland to the outer banks just to see him.

authors note: hope u like this fic! (if ur reading it hehe). this is my first ever fic on tumblr (i had a brief wattpad career, published like one chapter and dipped) but yeahhhh! lmk if u would maybe want me to turn this into a smau (i'm gonna do it anyways maybe just validate ur girl). btw, my requests r opennnn i wrote jj cuz i was in the mood, but i'm mainly obsessed with matt dillon characters (hence the user) but im open to anything! alsooo give me any advice cuz im new hehe <3

lots of love, dolly x

[dduane]

i cant belive that you of all people are at risk of homelessness >:(

homelessness isnt a problem that should exist in general, but you, specifically, should have like a million dollars from the star trek novels alone

(chuckle) Wouldn't that be lovely! (And it's kind of you to be thinking that way.)

But alas, that's not how it works.

When you're working in/for other licensed universes—which is always on a work-for-hire basis—the only really significant payment(s) you're likely to see will happen when you've turned in a given book and it's been formally accepted. And even then, the payment's rarely going to be higher than low-to-mid five figures... which (after your literary agent gets their cut, and after your taxes on the income get paid) won't take you very far even in a single year, let alone the years that follow.

If you're very lucky in your publisher, or have a very good agent—which I do—you may even manage to get some royalties on such a novel. But they'll be at the low end of the scale—maybe 2-3% of the cover price. (Bearing in mind that even for original novels in one's own universe, an author rarely gets more than 8-10% of a given book's cover price in royalties.) And when the book goes out of print, the royalties stop.

So just because the owner of the IP makes a lot of money off it, doesn't mean that any significant amount of it necessarily trickles down to the writer. (sigh) Nor does the fact that a book is good, or the writer is good, or both, make any significant difference in this branch of mathematics. Eventually, pretty much inevitably, sooner or later sales of a book drop off and the publisher lets it go out of print.

(shrug) It's not like I didn't know this was eventually going to happen when I wrote my Star Trek work. I did that because I loved Trek (and still do), and I was sure I could write a better Trek novel than anyone else had up until that point. (And maybe that was even true. Who knows.) To have done the work was the thing that primarily mattered.

But let this be a reminder to folks that only a low percentage of writers make enough from their writing alone to live on: and that something like 90% of writers at times live at or near the poverty line and sometimes slip below it. ...And for all of us, even for strong writers who seem moderately successful and have other income streams, bare patches happen: times when publishers don't pay (for example, I still haven't been paid anything for Disney/Marvel's reissue of my Spider-Man books), times when you can't work, or times when accident or illness or other unexpected circumstance eats the cash you've stashed away to serve as a cushion.

This is not a safe lifestyle. With talent and luck and endless slogging away at/over the writing mechanism of your choice, and with the support of your readers (whom I'm very much thinking of at the moment!—and thanks again to the Ebooks Direct customers and Ko-Fi friends who just now saved our butts), it can be survived. Which, from day to day, @petermorwood and I do our best to keep on doing.

...In any case: people who even at this end of time can say things about my work such as you did at the top of this, make me feel like about a million dollars. 🙂 (And since today I have both an upper respiratory infection and laryngitis, that's quite a trick!) ...So thanks.

ETA: for those curious, to deal with local physical issues I am now making this chicken soup, which—whether or not it has any actual therapeutic benefit—is still going to be very nice. ...It annoys the shit out of me that I have to leave out the onions and garlic, which would quickly trigger my IBS and subject me to an entirely different level of pain; but such is life. We've got all the other ingredients on hand sans the fresh turmeric, and if there's one thing this soup's short on, it's chilies. Which around here, believe me, is a deficiency that Peter's well positioned to remedy. :)

[angelfishe]

#𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Vil schoinet x reader

Before you were teleported into NRC, you were a writer as well a popular illustrator. You decide to upload one of your most Popular works at twisted wonderland about a love story with a villain. Eventually it blew up in the media, changing the standard of how the media view villains. As well changing his life view forever.

( this is so rush, I'm so sorry )

You never have expected to be teleported into a world of magic it seems to be fictional but it's real, sadly you didn't get any abilities but on the bright side you don't have any deadlines to worry about I'm pretty much sure your coworkers are dealing with your story publishing.

Recently you got bored and decided to re write one of your most popular works and publish it into the media of this world, believing it wouldn't change anything.

The next few days your work has taken over the world, it gotten very popular due to having a unique setting and plot.

One thing you realize about this world is that they glorilize the heroine over the villain which is something you're not surprised because this is literally Disney. Why would they choose the innocent petite character when they could have the dark strong and hot villain. But still back in your world many would still simp for the villains in Disney.

It has taken the world by storm changing people how they view villains, finally finding the dark mysterious character attractive instead of the pure and innocent character stealing the spotlight from them.

Meanwhile vil realizes that his magicam account has been getting more likes than ever and saying that he looks like the male lead in your manhwa, I mean you were inspired to change their appearance to look exactly like vil because I mean look at him.

Vil decided to check the manhwa and insteadly falls inlove, on how they make the villain into the male lead as well a reasonable and loveable character, everyone is in love with him.

What part that makes him fall In love is because of how he finally sees the character staying till the end of the show getting the happily ever after they finally craved.

Soon many stories start the villain as its shining star pops out in a few weeks even though there are many short animations about the series, vil got the entire film study club to be involved and recreate one of his favorite scenes in the series.

It changed his whole world even the entire world on their views towards the villains, he wants to meet the author the bad part is he's unable to know because the author/ you is anonymous always keeping their private life close towards them never showing it towards the public.

But you may have left a slip up at that point you as being the author, during lunch you were looking panels on one of the scenes in the newest episode in the manhwa and epel was sitting right beside you surprisingly he was allowed due to vil being in a good mood.

Epel look over your shoulder and ask what you were doing while believing it was a normal question saying about how you were looking at panels for your manhwa, epel look at it and instantly recognize the character well because vil wouldn't stop rambling about it.

And in cue rook decided to drop by and also have a look at the panel he immediately looked at epel with a confused on what to do meanwhile you were still minding your business unaware of what's happening in both of the pomifiore students.

One day epel told you to come to pomifiore because he said he's housewarden wants to meet you. And low and behold vil is waiting sitting across a couch with teas and sweets on the table.

When you took a seat at the couch across from him he asked as If you were the author towards the popular manhwa and you confirmed it believing it's nothing special.

Vil ask why would you prefer the villain over the hero and you gave your reason was due to them being overshadowed, as well misunderstood as being a character. As a writer your job is to fully understand a person's character even tho they commit questionable things. You have to understand a person to write them perfectly.

And he was stunt and then he sends you a smile and says he needs your help about your manhwa as well saying both of you are gonna get along.

[petermorwood]

A day or so ago, @dduane reblogged a long post - a Canadian magazine article from 1966 - about the Americanisation of Winnie the Pooh.

It's an Impressive Tirade in which the writer (Sheila H. Kieran) says what she thinks about letting Walt Disney have a free hand with a foreign Children's Classic.

There's mention of the previous Adaptation Endeavour, "Mary Poppins" (1964) but it's very brief, perhaps with an eye to limited column space - or maybe because All Was Said Already in a previous review.

There is, however, rather a lot about the English characters being given American accents, and about the inclusion of a new character, an American gopher (which, the article suggests, looked vague enough to the Kieran children - its target audience - that it might as well have been a mole or a beaver).

*****

And that reminded me of another bit of American Animalisation done by Disney, in the 1949 short "The Wind and the Willows" - though in this instance it's visual since the voices are, for the most part, suitably British.

They include Basil Rathbone as narrator, and a horse who sounds like George Formby. In some scenes the horse actually looks like Formby, so this voice may not be entirely accidental.

Badger, however, sounds like a Scotsman - the worst kind of stage Scotsman at that - rather than how I used to "hear" him as a C. Aubrey Smith-voiced crusty retired colonel.

That, however, is just personal preference.

However, Disney's Badger is not a proper British (more correctly, European) badger, Meles meles. Here's one, which though not the most amiable of beasts in reality, still manages to look fairly affable ("I say, old chap, whatever are you looking at?")

Instead he's a North American badger, Taxidea taxus, which not only has a less affable expression ("Hey, bud, you. Yeah, you. You lookin' at me? You lookin' at ME?") but, more important, different stripes.

Here's Disney's version alongside mine. The correction took about five minutes of pixel-tweaking.

Disney's animators could have got it right from the outset just as easily, because I'm pretty sure the reference library which provided costume info for Rat's tweed Norfolk jacket and britches included picture-books of natural history.

Come to that, any "The Wind in the Willows" after the unillustrated first edition would have been enough, and there must have been at least one copy lying around for story adaptation and scene-description purposes.

The first illustrated edition came out in the UK in 1931, and its artist was, at author Kenneth Graham's request, the very same E.H. Shepard who had illustrated the Pooh books just a few years previously...

...while this Arthur Rackham colour plate is from an edition published in 1940 in New York.

So those books wouldn't have been impossible for Disney to get.

The problem, however, is that if a word ("badger", for instance) is well known to mean one thing here, it may be Too Much Trouble to find out if the same word means something else there, with the result that finding out can sometimes come as rather a surprise.

Check the UK / US meaning of "suspenders" to see what I mean... ;->

[kimmryokoo]

Late Night - logan howlet

author: kim ryoko

ao3

masterlist

summary: logan was supposed to go to a mission that would only last 3 days. unfortunately, it took longer then expected. your birthday went by quicly and you were already sleeping when logan returned. you both really missed each other and you let a kiss turn into something bigger...

word count: 3k

warnings: figeting, smut, filthy, reader has no appetite, slight possibility of death (doesn't happend), teasing, sub reader, little fluff at the end

author's note: english isn't my first language so i'm sorry for ay grammar mistakes, feel free to correct me. i'm so sorry it took me this long to publish something. i've been really busy lately. my birthday was on december 13th (the same as taylor swift🤭), so i wrote this as a sort of birthday present.

It's been days since you last saw Logan. He was out on a mission with Scott and Jean, and they left exactly 7.5 days ago when it was supposed to only last 3 days. You missed Logan very much, and tomorrow was your birthday so you were rooting for Logan and the rest of the team to arrive the night before or in the morning of the day.

It was already 11pm the day before your birthday and you were still waiting for your friends and lover to arrive while sitting in a bench on the jet garage and you then heard the big and thick metal doors sliding to open and the sound of wheels caught your attention.

“You're still here? It's getting late. You should head to bed and get a good night's sleep. Big day tomorrow.” Charles said.

“I'm just waiting for them to arrive.” you spoke with a tone filled with exhaustion, worry, hope and love, all at the same time.

“Unfortunately, I don't think they'll come back today.”

“What makes you say that, professor?”

“If they were to return, Jean would've reached to me and reported everything that happened while they were out on the mission, but she hasn't yet.” Charles argued and got a bit closer to you, now sitting next to you and putting an understanding hand on your back.

“I really wanted to spend tomorrow with them.” you said in a sad voice.

“I know. But the only thing you can do right now is go to sleep and get energized for when they do come back.” he stated in his always calm tone.

“You're right. Thank you, professor.” and before you got up to leave the room, you gave a loose hug to the older man that has supported you through so many things.

It was now the next day, 6:30 a.m. and your alarm went on with his job of waking you up. His loud rings easily made their way to your ears and woke you up with a symphony that reminded you a lot of screaming babies. To end your suffering, you quickly moved your hand to turn off the alarm.

You sat up and stared at the place where your feet were hidden under the blanket. You then looked to your side and saw the cold, empty bed you wished was filled by Logan.

You sighed and got up to prepare yourself a bath to give you enough fuel to go through the day.

After you got out of the shower and put on some clothes, you packed everything you needed for the day and when you were packing the notebook where you plan your classes, you saw something written on the page the notebook was opened, and it looked like Logan’s lettering.

‘ Hey. So, I'm pretty sure this mission ain't gonna take 3 days like those dip heads are saying, so I'm writing a note for your birthday, so you can at least hear from me that day.I know that the day you're reading this is your birthday day, because I can see the date of the classes you planned in here. First of all, happy birthday, and I want you to know that I love you. A lot. And you're honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I also want you to know that if I'm not there for your birthday, I'm dying of how much I miss you. I really hope you have a great day and that I get to see you or at least talk to you today. Love ya.

-Lo ’

Wow. Even when he's away, he somehow manages to make your day better.

You read the note and felt your heart swell with love for that man.

You finished packing everything and stepped outside the room and only a few steps later you were attacked by someone who came running towards you from your back and back-hugged you.

“Happy Birthday!” you heard the person whom you then knew was Ororo from her voice.

You turned to your friend and she immediately hugged you properly. Your smile grew wider from all the care your friend was giving you.

“Thank you, Ororo.”

“I got you a present! But I’m only going to give it to you at the end of the day.” the white haired woman said while breaking the hug and holding both your hands to continue touching you somehow.

“Then why would you tell me now?! You’re going to make me anxious all day!” you said in a pout tone but with a smile on your lips as you squeezed your friend’s hands harder.

“I know you have classes to teach, and so have I so I’m not going to take your precious time.” she grinned and kissed my cheek “Have a great day and happy birthday again!” She continued and started walking towards the direction she came from whilst waving a small ‘good-bye’ to which you responded with the same gesture and a kind and grateful smile.

You quickly arrived at your class and from that moment forward, that day was filled with people saying ‘Happy Birthday’ to you and many ‘Happy birthday’ songs.

At the end of all your classes, you decided to head back to the jet garage to wait for the team, since they haven’t arrived yet. While you were sitting on the same bench as the day before, you heard the same sound as you’ve heard the day before - heavy metal doors sliding open and metal wheels going your direction.

“What a Déjà vu, huh?” you said playfully to Charles, who chuckled softly at your statement.

“I would also say so myself. I presume you're here doing the same thing as you were yesterday?”

“Yeah.” you said looking down. The truth was that your day had been amazing, but it still felt a bit empty without Logan.

“Have you had dinner yet? It’s almost 8 p.m. .”

“No, I came here right after my classes finished. I’m just so worried. They should’ve been back by now. What if something bad happened? What if they…?”

“I’m sure it hasn’t. Have a little more faith in them. Go eat something and then I’ll let you come back here, but you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep at least by 11 p.m.”

“Fine.” you responded with a tone of defeat and got up to walk to the kitchen.

You tried your best to eat a normal sized meal, but you were too worried to eat anything. You stared at your plate with a small amount of mach-and-cheese and stirred it for about 30 minutes. It took you a long time to eat all of your food, but eventually you finished and cleaned the mess you made.

You left the kitchen and saw the rest of the mansion in complete darkness. You know your way around, and your heart was telling you to go back downstairs and wait for Logan a little longer but you also knew that whether you wanted to or not, you'd make noise that would probably wake someone up and that would make you feel bad. You glance back at the clock on the kitchen wall and see it’s almost 10 p.m. and consider going straight to bed and not risking waking up any student that might make your day 10 times worse tomorrow. You end up going to your room, since you’re also pretty tired from your day.

Once you closed your bedroom door, you started doing your night routine and only a few moments after you lay on your bed, you fell asleep.

You later woke up to what sounded like a door opening and closing. And then another door opened and closed.

You looked around the room and found nothing wrong. It must've been in your dream, so you went back to sleep.

You woke up again, but this time with an arm wrapping around your waist and you supported your weight on your elbow and turned slightly just to see Logan’s exhausted face looking at you with apologizing eyes from his pillow.

“Logan!” you said happily and hugged the man tightly while burying your face in his neck.

“Hey, sweetheart. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you!” you said and pulled a bit back to look at Logan’s face.

You leaned forward to lightly press your lips against his. That soft kiss was deepened when his hand grabbed the the back of your neck and pulled you to him. He was quick to change you positions so that he was on top. One of Logan’s hands supported his weight on the mattress near your face while the other one roamed free through your body squeezing your skin. You felt Logan’s tongue against your lips and didn't hesitate to let it in.

“You have no idea how much I missed ya.” Logan said in between kisses with a rough and starved tone that made you moan against his mouth.

In response to your sound, you felt his hips pressuring against yours while his free hand wrapped your legs around his waist. You could feel how hard he was beneath his pants and you never wanted something so bad like you did in that moment.

Logan’s mouth didn't restrain only your mouth. It also traveled to your neck and collarbones and you then smelled the scent of his shampoo. That's why you heard 2 doors opening and closing. One of them was your bedroom door and the other one was the bathroom's. It made sense now.

All that sense was rapidly taken away from you when you felt his bulge starting to move against your clothed pussy.

“Ahh… Logan…” you moaned “Please…” you finished.

“What, darlin’? Tell me. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, birthday girl.”

“I… I want you…”

“Where?” he asked “Here?” he said, faking innocence while rubbing stripes on top of your shorts.

“Y-yes…” you said with flushed cheeks.

“Well then. Imma have to take this off.” He said and sat up on his knees to smoothly rip your shorts out of you to find out you weren't wearing any underwear.

“Oh fuck, princess. You'll be the death of me. I've been gone for over a week and come back to you all wet like this? Do you know how hard it is to control myself when all I could smell was this neddy pussy since you saw me?” he asked. His face gets closer with each word. Almost close enough to kiss you.

“Then don't.” you said breathless and softly. You then leaned a bit forward to lick his lips and made them open just a small bit.

You saw the way his eyes darkened in pure lust and you felt it in the way he kissed you - with so much passion and need.

Logan only broke the kiss to sit back up on his knees to rip your shirt off, letting your chest free.

“Why’d you rip all my clothes off?” you asked with your breath taken from the way he took your nipples in his mouth which made you back ark for more.

“My present.” he stated in a low tone.

“But it’s my birthday…” you answered with your eyes closed and a moan escaping your lips when you were done talking.

“Your birthday, my present.”

Logan continued to play with you for a few minutes when you felt a knot on your stomach.

“Lo, I’m close…”

With that, Logan stopped paying attention to your breasts and took his hand to your core, rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and slowly inserting his index and middle finger on your clenching hole.

You almost screamed out of pleasure when you felt Logan’s fingers moving inside you and scissoring you open to prepare you. You soon came undone under the felling of the friction of his long, thick and calloused hands inside your pussy.

Logan pulled back his body, taking his fingers out of your hole and putting them in his mouth for a brief second, sucking them.

“The sweetest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever tasted.” he uttered.

He then proceeded to put those same fingers inside your mouth, this time.

“Suck.” he demanded, and when you did as he ordered, he continued “Atta girl.”

With his free hand, he pulled down his pants and his cock immediately sprung free, slapping against his abs, with veins popping out and precum leaking from the tip. Logan then slowly stroked his length to lubricate it while you watched with saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth and your core getting wetter with every passing second, even though you just cummed.

Logan grabbed his cock by the base and aligned it with your hole, pushing bit by bit, inch by inch, until you were a moan and whimper mess. Once he bottomed you out, you moaned into his digits.

“Such a pretty little fuckin’ slut” he said as his gaze stared intensely to where your bodies met, watching you clench around him in an oh so delicious way.

Logan pulled back his hips to immediately rock them back into yours, making the thrilling sound of his skin slapping against yours fill your ears and your brain. Logan’s pace started slow - always careful not to hurt you - but you could tell it was different then usual. He was rougher than normal, eating you out with more urgency.

“You have no idea how good it feels to be inside this pussy again.” he groaned at the end of the sentence.

Logan’s pace sped up as he started to seek for the pleasure of his high that he had felt coming since he began fucking you. Logan knew that after so many days of only cumming with his hand while thinking of in his tend don't even compare to the feel of being inside you and that once he felt it again, he wouldn’t be able to hold on for long.

Logan took a moment to stop thinking about anything and look at you. Really look at you. The way your hair was messy because of the pillow, the way your forehead was sweating more than usual from thee over-stimulation, the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head every time he pounded inside you, the way your cheeks where flustered and got more red every time he praised you, the way your beautiful lips where glossy and red from all the sucking and that pretty string of saliva dripping in your cheek, the way your neck was marked from his hard work, the way your tits bounced up and down rhythmically with the times he fucked himself into you and the hickeys and red spots here and there, the way your clit was swollen and over-sensitive, the way your pussy wrapped around his cock so perfectly and clenched around him making him feel like he was in heaven, the way your sweet noises filled the room and you the way you called his name like it was a prayer. Fuck… Logan couldn’t take it anymore.

He grabbed your legs and put them on his shoulders, giving him better access to your g-spot and bending even further to kiss you. The kiss was rugged but held all the feelings he felt when he was alone in his cold sleeping bag in the inside of his tent while listening to Scott and Jean doing what he would kill to be doing with you.

“Lo… I-I’m coming again…”

“That’s it. Come for me princess.”

And, you did as you were told.

As soon as he felt you coming apart on his cock, he couldn’t resist it anymore and filled you up.

“Good girl. Always doing as you’re told.” he said in a teasing and low voice in which you only responded with another moan.

Logan helped you ride both your highs and you both soon came completely. He then let himself fall to your side, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you for the present.” you said with a smile on your face as you lifted up your hand to play with his hair.

Logan chuckled and asked “You think this is your present? I told you it was mine. My fucking present for putting up with Scott and Jean for so long without leaving them there and coming back here to your arms.”

You laughed.

“I wouldn’t have minded that.”

“Noted. I’ll be sure to do it next time.” he joked and you felt his smile against your neck and you laughed again.

“Where’s my present, then?”

“Such an impatient girl.” he said as he pushed himself up, kissed you and grabbed a small box from his nightstand, all without coming out of you.

“Here you go, birthday girl.” He said and kissed your forehead.

You looked at the box and kissed Logan as a thank you. You opened the box and saw dog tags with your info on it and a picture of you and Logan.

“Well this, this is actually for me.” he said as he took your dog tags and with his other hand, he took his own off his neck and gave it to you.

“This is the one that’s actually for you. You know, I really missed you when I was out on the mission, and I know you miss me too when I’m gone so I thought this was a good way for me to always have a piece of you and you always have a piece of me. I also know how much you like that picture, so-” You interrupted him by kissing him.

“Thank you. I love it!” you said and he looked at you like you were an angel. His angel. “I love you, Logan.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

You cupped Logan’s cheeks and kissed him.

Both of you cuddled for the rest of the night and were finally able to fall asleep next to each other after so many nights apart. You were able to be next to each other, to feel the other's warmth.

That was the best night’s sleep both of you have had last week.

Hope you liked it!

xoxo, kim ryoko

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part One

Part Two, Part Three,

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Reader's parents work late on Friday nights, which she spends alone. Except Reader hasn't been alone in a long time, not that she knows of at least. Rafe has watched you for years, he's very good at it. He has no plans of formally meeting you, as he's satisfied with the current arrangement. He likes it better when Reader doesn't know he's watching. But his idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when reader catches him in her bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the entire plot. He's pretty pervy in this, I guess. Masturbation (Rafe) in front of unconscious reader, strong/vulgar language, somnophilia (I guess?), death threat(?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: My sneak peek got a few likes, so thank you if you liked it, y'all are the reason I'm finally posting this part! I'm not sure how I feel about this fic so far, I definitely have a habit of overly critiquing my own work and never being fully satisfied with it, but I'm trying to get over that. I don't have plans for this fic, it's just going in whatever direction I can think of as I write, so if you have any suggestions, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE let me know, I'll write pretty much anything. This is my first work published on tumblr and the first thing I've written in years, so I hope it's at least readable, and maybe even a little enjoyable. If just one person enjoys this, then my mission is accomplished. Thank you, I hope you enjoy! And do NOT be shy to share feedback or give suggestions/requests. Again, thank you!

For those of you that DID read the sneak peek, a large portion of this part was included in the sneak peek, but I highly suggest reading it over in it's entirety. This draft has undergone several additional rounds of editing and I believe it is better than the version I published as a sneak peek.

CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!

One thing about humans is that we always want what we can’t have, especially when everyone else wants that same thing. It’s just something all humans do; but what happens when you already have more than you need and everything you could ever want? Well, almost everything. Rafe Cameron has more money than he could spend in his own lifetime, he can practically buy anything he wants. Except one thing, you.

At first he just thought you were pretty, but the more he saw you out in public the more and more he liked you. The way you’d talk or laugh when you were out with your friends…god, he could tell just how sweet you are. Too delicate for him to touch, like the wings of a butterfly or the petals of a flower. This is when he went from wanting you to needing you. 

See, another thing about humans is that we admire things. And, admiration can easily turn into obsession. Everyone has been obsessed with something or someone at some point in life, it’s normal. Obsessions will come and go, like a cycle. You get obsessed with something, you get over it, and you let it go until a new obsession marks the beginning of the new cycle. But things are a bit different for Rafe, he has never gotten over anything like, ever. Not once has Rafe Cameron ever let anything in his life go. When Rafe wants something, when he needs something, he will do whatever it takes to get it. And oh, how he needs you.

Rafe’s fascination, his obsession with you has been going on for years. He won’t ever admit it, but his perfectly curated collection of your personal items in his closet proves just how bad he’s been obsessing over you. The first thing he had ever stolen from you was your drink, you had been at the same party and you left your red solo cup about three-quarters full. Nobody noticed anything when he casually picked up the cup and finished the rest of your beer, purposely lining his lips with where yours had touched the cup, which was perfectly marked by the lipstick you had been wearing. After you’d leave a restaurant, he’d take the straws from your drinks. Rafe eventually worked himself up to breaking into your house and stealing your things when nobody was home. And Rafe made sure to explore every single inch of your room. All of your favorite panties? Gone. He’d take everything, your shirts, bras, whatever he liked really. You had noticed things kept disappearing from your room, but you’d just think you misplaced it–whatever it may be, or left it in a bag somewhere. Rafe had a good system. He knows exactly how much and how often he can take from you. 

Rafe knows he’s sick. He knows that it’s wrong to watch you from outside your bedroom window, that it’s wrong to follow you around in public, to purposely bump into you so you have to mutter a ‘sorry’ as you move around him. He just really, really needs you. And in Rafe’s twisted, dark, mess of a mind he believes this is the best way–the only way. He couldn’t treat you like every other girl, no, you were special. You were his and you just didn’t know it yet. Starting early on in his life, Rafe has always been neglected, always pushed into the shadow of his younger sister, Sarah. He’s been told he ruins everything, that everything he touches turns to ash. And you’re way too perfect to ruin. So, he follows you around like a creep, lurking from a distance. Of course you didn't know he’s been following you everywhere…he liked it better that way.

Rafe knew the line had already been crossed. Hell, the line had been crossed a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t care anymore, he needs you. Heaven is smelling like you; and not because you had left your scent on him, but because he had bought the same perfume as you. He needed to know what you smell like, how sweet you are…how sweet you taste. Heaven is watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Heaven is you.

What Rafe has been doing to you for years could be defined as worship. Rafe was worshiping you. He’s your good boy; your loyal man and he was going to take care of you; protect you, even if you don’t know it yet. You’re what he lives for; you’re all that keeps him going, the only thing he cares about. 

Since he’s been watching you for years, of course he knew your schedule. Of course he knew that on Fridays your parents work late at the local bar & grill that they own. This means you slept in your house by yourself practically every Friday night. So every Friday night, Rafe would sneak in through the back door that you always forget to lock. He just wants to check on you, he wants to see his pretty girl sleeping beautifully, he wants to know that his baby is okay. This is not a crime, it’s not a crime to care; he’s not insane, he’s just in love–if you could even call it that. How can it be wrong to protect what’s his? Oh, and god forbid anyone ever get in the way of his stalking routine, if anyone were to take you away from the inevitable path of meeting him…oh, the things he would do; whatever it takes.

One unforgettable Friday night, you fall asleep on your couch watching a rerun of one of your favorite shows. You enjoy being alone. If only you knew you haven’t been alone for a very long time. You’re woken up by sudden, loud noises coming from your bedroom, but you think maybe it’s just the cat, or maybe you didn’t shut your window. You get up from the couch and in several slow, cautious steps you tiptoe over to your room. When you enter your doorway, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of a tall and broad man standing in the center of your bedroom holding the last shirt you wore to his nose, breathing in your scent. The sight of all this makes you immediately freeze and stand motionless in your bedroom doorway, staring at him blankly. 

Rafe doesn’t startle when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Instead, quite the opposite actually. He’s actually a bit amused, relieved even; if you hadn’t caught him just now, he never would’ve been able to work up the nerve to finally talk to you. He didn’t want to have to be creepy about things between you two, but he couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. It’d be too unpredictable, too unknown. Meeting you like this…he has all of the control. 

“There you are,” he grinned. “How beautiful…” The strangely offputting man gloated in your fear and it was obvious.

You take a step back from where you had been frozen. He takes a step forward. This cannot be happening, you think. Your brows furrow in hopelessness and defeat. Again, you freeze where you are standing, even more afraid to move now. 

You feel like you’ve seen the man before, which you have, plenty of times; but he was careful to never have too big of an interaction, so that you couldn’t recognize his face. You have no clue that you’ve been and always will be his.

 “W-wha…who are you? W-why are you in my house?” You try to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the way your words shake with trepidation betrays you. 

The man takes a quick step forward, slowing to a stop and putting his hands up in mock surrender as you jump back. “Woah, woah, hey…calm down, alright?”, he chuckles when he sees the utter horror and complete fright in your eyes. His tone switches into one of a little more seriousness, “I'm not here to hurt you, you don't need to be so scared...”.  If you didn’t feel like your only choice was to look him in the eyes, you might even believe him. But, you had no other option but to witness the animalistic spark in his eyes that lit up with each word he spoke. With each step he took, you took one further back—your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of his cocky, twisted smile and the way he looked at you…like you’re a zebra grazing in your natural habitat and he’s the lion waiting to pounce and attack you in your own home. 

“I just wanted to see you," he leaned up against your dresser, taking in the look on your face. His face almost instantly drops the predatory look and adopts one of mock concern, almost convincing enough to hide his amusement. “Hey, it's okay, baby, it’s okay…”

“Please,” you beg. “If you leave I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell.”

Rafe cocks his head and lets out a slow breath, as if he’s disappointed in your reaction; you aren’t supposed to want him to leave. “Hey, hey…I’m not gonna hurt you. Just listen to me…you don’t wanna have to call the cops at three in the morning,” he elaborated. He’s trying to be as convincing as he can because he cannot screw this up. Even so, he still can’t help his smile that only grows at the sight of your terrified face. He shakes the smirk off, adopting a serious expression once more. “Especially when the cops won't be able to do a damn thing.” 

He continues to step closer to you with each word. He stops once his figure is looming over you, looking at you like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “You should really be more careful, sweetheart, leaving the back door open like that at this time of night, when you’re all alone…you never know who might be out there.” His voice is cold as he warns you about the dangers of the world; the dangers of himself. 

“Who are you?” You repeated. The man looks so familiar but you just couldn’t quite place his face anywhere. You just need to know what he wants; who he is. 

“That’s not important right now baby…we’re focused on you, yeah?” The man’s eyes widen, taking in every detail of your face; the only other times he’s seen you this close is when he watches you sleep. 

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. The look in his eyes tells you to take another step back, but when your back collides with the wall you jump; there’s nowhere left for you to go and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted you like this alone, afraid, and cornered. He loved your fear. The man stares at you with a predatory look although aside from the darkness and lust in his eyes, you can see something else, but…what is it?  

“W-what do you want?” You ask, keeping as calm as you can. Even though with every passing second the air gets thinner and thinner. Your stomach is in knots and your throat starts to close up. Not to mention the stinging tears in your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“Me?” he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body as he blew out a huff. “I just wanna have a little chat, that's all...” The unknown man takes another step towards you, invading your personal space, his tall frame towering over you as his bottom lip finds a home between his teeth. Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “No need to be so scared, baby...”

“T-talk about what?” You have no idea what this man who you don’t know, could possibly want to talk about with you. Why is he acting like he knows you when you’re sure you’ve never even seen him before? Why is he…admiring you? No, that couldn’t be right. The mystery man is so confusing, all his twists and turns giving you whiplash. 

“Ah, you see...” he responds, pausing to place his other hand on the wall behind you, almost trapping you in. You feel his hot breath against the sensitive skin of your face, burning you like hot steam. His breath was slow and steady. He was completely calm. He liked this. He gave you a genuine smirk, bringing his face closer to your ear. “It’s more of a proposition really…”

“What is it…?” You ask. Not out of curiosity because honestly, you’re too afraid to know. But because you figure things might, just might go better for you if you play along. He stayed silent for a moment—enjoying the look in your eyes and your erratic breathing.

“All this fear…all this trembling...” he trails off as he brings his hand up to your chin, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lower lip. “It's nice to finally meet you...” He chuckles and leans in so that his lips nearly touch your ear. “Will you stop shaking like that if I tell you what I want?” His thumb moves from your bottom lip and he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear; he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of your pretty face.“Hmmm?” he challenged. “Or will you still be shaking like a scared little puppy?”

“I-I don’t…” You stutter, not being able to speak or even think clearly with the way he’s glaring at you. 

“Shhhh… ” he tutted, bringing his other hand from the wall to your lower back and drawing you even closer to him—until your body was almost flush against his, his touch surprisingly warm. “You're not answering my question,” he whispers your name as he runs his fingers through your hair, it’s softer than he’d imagined. 

“Please just…” The tears were no longer threatening as they began to fall down your cheeks. “Please…” Hearing this man who you do not know, say your name, was probably the most frightening thing to happen to you yet. 

“Shhh, stop that...” he calmly commanded when he saw the tears falling from your pretty eyes. Rafe's voice was soft but stern—he hated seeing you so distressed. His hand moved from your lower back to your chin, making you look up at him. “Hey it’s okay…it’s okay baby, no need for tears. I just wanna talk to you is all." You almost believe him for a moment with how sincere the glint in his eyes appeared. But you’ve picked up on his manipulative expressions. 

“My parents will be home soon…” You vaguely remember your parents mentioning something about something and blah blah blah…they’re closing early tonight. You really hope it’s true and isn’t just a figment of your imagination; something your mind is making up so you don’t completely give up. 

A cocky smile returned to his face as he let a small huff of amusement slip past his lips. He knew your parents were working late, just like every other Friday night. "Bullshit,” he chuckled. His hand moved back to your lower back, holding you against him. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” He grabs your waist and within the next second, you’re on your bed and he’s hovering over you. You can feel his hot breath in your ear, you can smell him, feel the excessive heat radiating from his body. He speaks quietly now, more serious than he’s been this entire time, “Don’t ever fuckin’ lie to me again. Got it?”

His words provoke a small whimper from you. How long has he been watching you? What’s he gonna do? What does he want to talk about? Your mind is filled with questions you’re too afraid to ask. “I-I’m not lying.” He leans down, his lips almost touching yours. Rafe’s eyes are looking straight into yours, admiring the complete and utter fear your eyes possess. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him. But fuck, does he love it.

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles as he presses his face into your hair, taking in your scent. He can’t believe he’s finally this close to you. He didn’t think it’d ever happen, and if you didn’t catch him tonight, it probably wouldn’t have. It’s meant to be, he thinks. “What did I tell you about lying, hm baby? I know you’re fuckin’ lyin’ to me, so you wanna try that again?”

Before your brain could muster up some bullshit response, the sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe holds his breath and puts his hand over your mouth, causing your eyes to widen as he leans to the side to glance down the hallway at the front door. “Shh…”, he whispers. You weren’t lying. Your parents came home from work early and they’re about to turn the doorknob and come inside the house. Rafe looks at you, the look in his eyes beyond unsettling. “Tell the cops…tell anyone, and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you, okay? This is our secret. Don’t make me come back and hurt you babe, I really, really don’t wanna have to do that, alright?” 

He has to be bluffing, right? But, when you look up to meet his gaze, you can tell; you can tell he meant every single syllable that he spoke. It’s not like the cops would believe you if you said you had a stalker anyways, you’re a pogue. And cops never believe a pogue. Rafe doesn’t need a response from you, the fear in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.

 Just before you hear the front door open, Rafe smirks at you. “We’re gonna have so much fun together baby.” Reluctantly, the disturbed man leans back and takes his hands away from you. Without another word, he walks over to your bedroom window and pushes it open. Before ducking to climb out, the large man looks back at you. Your breath hitches even further if that’s even possible.

 “Goodnight puppy.” The outline of his smug grin is visible even in the darkness of your room. Just as you hear the quiet voices of your parents enter your house, the dark figure turns and exits your window. When the man is outside you sit up and rush over to shut and lock the window behind him. 

With caution, Rafe watches as your mother comes to peek her head in your bedroom. She only lingers in your doorway long enough to see your dark shape laying in bed. Covered in blankets, you pretend to sleep, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold a casual conversation with your mother at the moment. And the last thing you want to do is raise any alarm. Not while he’s out there–whoever he is. Hot, salty tears fall from your eyes, wetting the soft skin of your cheeks. When she shuts the door, you let out a shaky breath, finally being able to breathe.But, you keep your eyes sealed shut. At least then you can’t see if the man is still watching you from outside your window. You lie awake for hours, how are you meant to go back to sleep after whatever the hell just happened? All you can do now is wait. Is he coming back? When will he come back? Who is he? Why does he want you? There’s a million different questions and worst scenarios circling around in your head. So, you just wait, it’s all you can do. 

As you wait, the hours turn into days, days turning into a week as the next Friday approaches you; you spend your time worrying about having to be home alone again. There still had been no sign of him since your encounter last week, but you decide to stay the night at a friend’s house, not wanting to take the risk. The second Friday after you came face-to-face with your stalker, you get a friend to spend the night with you. And now, after four weeks of waiting there’s still no sign of the deranged man. Although, if you had no knowledge of him stalking you for years he clearly is good at staying hidden. As the fourth Friday approaches, you think over your options. You can go to a friend’s house or have a friend stay over, as you’ve been doing. But, you’re tired of waiting for something to happen. You’re sick of not feeling safe in your own home and of having to look over your shoulder at all times. You used to love being alone, and now it’s been weeks since you’ve spent any time to yourself. You’ve had enough. This Friday you’re not hiding, you’re done being a coward. You will not allow this creep to keep taking away everything you love; you won’t allow yourself to waste any more time worrying about that psycho. So, you stay at home by yourself. He’s not gonna show, right? He was just bluffing or on drugs or something, that’s what you convince yourself.

You pull back the fluffy comforter on your bed and climb in. You pull the covers up and completely over yourself, you used to do this as a little girl when you’d have a nightmare or you’re scared of the thunder or the monster in your closet. If the blanket could protect you when you were little it should work now…right? Well, maybe it’d still work if you had a nightmare, but logically, what is it gonna do against your stalker? But no matter how much you force yourself to believe that he’s not coming back, you still find yourself praying. You’ve never been very religious, but recently you pray to whoever will listen. 

You had bought some sleeping pills from the store a few days after you discovered your secret stalker. They helped you sleep, since your brain hasn’t once stopped thinking about him since the whole fiasco. Reaching over, you pull out the drawer of your nightstand. You grab the bottle of pills, you swallow a couple dry and set the rest on your nightstand. The pills start to kick in quite sooner than usual, must be because you took double the amount…you’re gonna need them to fall asleep tonight. Your first night alone in weeks. In just a few short minutes, you’re out cold, buried underneath an absurd amount of pillows and blankets.

Rafe spent the past few weeks feeling overwrought after what he did. He feels wrong–a feeling he’s not used to experiencing. But it’s because he knows he’s ruined any chance he might’ve had with you. Before you caught him in your bedroom, he had a chance that you could meet him regularly and think he was just a normal guy. But now, all hopes of you ever thinking he’s ‘normal’ have been abandoned. He actually feels shame and…regret for his actions? He’s been seeing less and less of you, and it’s making him angry, so fucking angry. Your schedule has been relatively the same for the past years and now you’re switching it up? You’re hiding from him; running from him just like everyone else in his life. Maybe the things his family has been saying about him for most of his life is true; maybe everything he touches does turn to ash. God, why does he ruin everything? 

You are the one thing, the only thing that Rafe did not want to ruin. You’re the one thing in his life that’s too perfect to ruin…too innocent. But, the damage has been done. He doesn't have many options left. He could leave you alone, but then he’d be weak for not sticking to his word and he can’t have you thinking he’s weak and that you have the power. He could go back, but then what would he do? There was absolutely no way in hell you’d seriously talk to him, and he didn’t want to force himself onto you. He really wanted you to need him back, you have to want it. But everything you do or say now will be out of fear, it’ll be you trying to stay alive. He wanted you to be desperate for him, not desperate to get rid of him. Either way, you’re never gonna forgive him; you’ll always hate him now. Since you’ll feel the same no matter what he does now, he decides that he just needs to see you, he needs to talk to you again. It’s been far too long since he’s been close to you. He can’t take another goddamn second without seeing his reason to live.

He hurries over to your house, parking an entire block away as usual. He makes sure no eyes are on him as he sneaks around to your backyard. Rafe tries peeking through the curtains that block your window to see if you were in bed or not, but he can’t get a good view. He needs to know if you’re home. He needs to see you. 

Rafe sneaks around to the side of your house, checking all windows and doors in the process, but he has no such luck. But he doesn’t give up yet, he’ll get in, he’ll find a way. He tries the side door that leads into your garage. He lets out a giant breath of relief when the door clicks open. Once he’s inside the garage, he takes a quick glance around to analyze his surroundings and burn every inch of your house into his memory. When he finally enters your house, he takes his time to look around. Obviously Rafe knew you were a pogue–he knew everything about you, but you never really looked or acted like one. However, the inside of your home puts your life on display, making it very clear you’re a pogue. 

You sleep soundly, only being interrupted by the occasional dream; completely unaware that your stalker is making his way down the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe opens the door quietly. Your room is dark like the rest of your house, but the moonlight shining through your thin curtains provides just enough light that he can see the outline of your sleeping body. Now that your presence has been confirmed, he feels like he can finally breathe and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

Before he became totally obsessed with you and he’d see you occasionally in public, you used to just make him horny. He’d catch a glimpse of your smile or hear the softness in the way you spoke, or the innocence in your sweet laugh and his dick would be hard within seconds. And when his obsession grew and he’d watch you more frequently, sex with other girls started not doing anything for him. He needed you…he needs you. When he actually started paying attention to the way you spoke, the way you acted, he fell in love–what he thinks is love anyways. Rafe realized you’re the sweetest, most pure person he’s ever known. He didn’t think people like you really existed. His discovery led him to watch you more closely, he started taking more risks just because he needed to find your flaw. There’s no way you’re actually this perfect, it has to be an act. Now, after years of watching you he can confidently say that you really are just that perfect. Rafe needs you for more than just getting off now, he needs your comfort, he needs the kindness that radiates off of you. Which is why he’s always trying to find a way to get closer to you, he needs to absorb your sweetness. But hes really done it now; he’s fucked up big time. You hate him.

He hadn’t realized that the hate he brought upon you would tint the kindness that radiates for your being. He has to get you to let go of the hate he’s caused you, he needs you to be yourself again. He just doesn't know how, if it’s even possible.

 As you sleep soundly, his large frame towers over you as he stares down at you through the darkness. You look so peaceful, so innocent. It physically pains him to know that he’s taken away parts of your innocence. All he can do is stare at you as he mentally curses himself. He can’t wake you up and ruin your small moment of peace. It’s better if you don’t know he’s there. 

Your stalker slowly raises his hand and uses his thumb and pointer finger to pull your blanket down to your knees. Even with the blankets pulled down most of your body was hidden from him. Almost everything is left to the imagination in the loose, patterned pj pants and the oversized, long sleeve shirt that you’re wearing. He can only see a small portion of your lower stomach due to your shirt slightly riding up. And that small bit of skin is enough to trigger his memories of you. Because of course he’s seen you countless times; he’s got your body memorized.

He’s practically panting as he takes in the sight of you, imagining that you’re unclothed beneath him; his memory is sharp enough to almost see it. His cock grows to press against his jeans and his eyes trail up to your beautiful face. The ache in his needy cock starts to become unbearable. Your name slips past his lips in the form of a mumble when he starts to palm himself through his newly tightened jeans. 

Okay, Rafe has definitely jerked off to the thought of you, your smell…everything about you makes him lose whatever control he ever even had to begin with. Something he hasn’t gotten to do yet is jerk off with you right in front of him as a live viewing source, fresh for his eyes. He’s gonna be able to cross that off the bucket list soon enough; he can’t wait any longer. His hand stops its ministrations over his jeans as his head turns and he moves over to your closet, grabbing a pair of delicate, worn panties from the top of your laundry hamper. He brings the treasure up to his nose to smell you. God, he could cream his fucking pants right now. He quietly walks back over to you, taking a look at the pill bottle on your nightstand. He picks it up with his free hand, eyes quickly scanning over the label. He smirks as he sets it back down. Rafe turns his head to look back at you. His smirk grows even wider as he leans back, cocking his head as he observes you. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be out for a while.

With his pants and boxers around his ankles, he stands over you. Your panties between his hand and his cock as his fist slowly pumps up and down his length. His other hand meticulously pulls your shirt up to reveal your chest.

“Fuckkk…” he whispers under his breath as his bottom lip is held captive between his teeth. Your perfect tits are spilling out of your bra as you lie asleep on your back. He lightly fiddles with the ends of your hair as his hand pumps over his dick repeatedly and without rhythm. He takes his time, Rafe never likes to rush this. Especially not with you.

Your subconscious mind reacts to his light touch and sounds, pulling you into a wet dream; seeing as a main side effect of the medication you took was vivid dreams. You’ve also been unusually horny lately, probably because you’d been too afraid to touch yourself when you thought you were being watched twenty-four/seven. His fingers trail up your stomach and into the valley of your breasts with feather light touch.

You stir a bit, not because you felt him, but because the dream you’ve been thrown into by your subconscious is starting to get your body all worked up. You’ve been extra horny recently and keep having sex dreams since you haven’t been able to touch yourself the past few weeks, having a stalker and all. As he leans down to lightly kiss the skin in between your boobs, a moan slips past his lips, vibrating off of your skin and interrupting the mostly silent room. The only other sound that can be heard in the quiet room is that caused by Rafe’s hand quickly moving up and down his cock; the friction caused by the soft fabric of your panties generates a quiet noise. Pre-cum leaks from his slit and seeps into the fabric of your recently worn panties. He leans back down to create a hickey on your chest and hopes that you won’t wake up from the sudden feeling, although if you did that might be even better. Shaking the selfish thought out of his head, he sucks strongly at the smooth skin between your beautiful tits. He pulls his mouth off with a pop! Leaning back to see the mark he left, he smirks knowing you’ll see it too eventually. The already rhythmless movements of his hand gets even more erratic the closer he gets to reaching his orgasm. 

The man standing above you runs his hand back down your chest and abdomen as you sleep. Completely unaware of what's happening to your physical body right now, you begin to get all wrapped up in your dream. You only ever get sex dreams when you’re so overly horny, which you’ve been the past few weeks. That combined with the sleeping medication you took, made this particular dream feel different; it felt so…real. The only dream-like part about it was that you couldn’t see the man's face for whatever reason. 

While you’re in a deep sleep, you involuntarily let out a needy whine as your active mind plays games with you. When Rafe hears you he thinks he imagined it, until he hears you do it again. He wonders if you could feel him, except he’s not even touching you right now. Realizing that's clearly not the reason, he furrows his brows in confusion. He pulls the duvet cover completely off of you to reveal the way you keep periodically squirming as your body searches for the same feeling your mind is experiencing; and the way your toes tighten up and curl as you’re tricked into thinking you feel pleasure. 

He can’t take it, not when you look like this. The man hovering over your unconscious figure lets out a lewd moan that corrupts the silence as hot strings of his cum spurt out of the pink, glistening tip of his cock and onto the pair of your panties that he's got clenched in his fist, immediately soaking into the fabric. Surprisingly, when he gets through his orgasm, he adoringly covers you back up with your blankets and leaves your house, locking the door he entered through to be sure you were safe. He got enough to satisfy him for now as he works on a plan to change the way you think of him.  He’ll be back for more of you soon enough. He has to fix this; the biggest mistake he’s ever made and the only regret he’ll ever carry. 

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable and not a waste of time. I spent a lot of time on this part, especially with the editing since I never really feel done with anything. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them, there's not much I won't write!

I'd like to thank @faiszt for inspiring me to write this fic!

[souryogurt64]

Hi long-time lurker, first time follower. When you say the hardliners still profit from their connections to Fall Out Boy, does that mean in a “name-dropping” way or do you think FOB is actively doing things for them?

To answer your question in very narrow and brief way, this guy I will call R (for the sake of this post) wrote a very long feature article on Fall Out Boy's origins as well as other stuff too. Another guy called S owned the label they put Evening Out on.

In the 90s, R used to make zines and be in bands with this guy I'll call S (for the sake of this post). S owned the label Fall Out Boy put Evening Out on. Both of them identified with a movement that held very extreme beliefs that were both positive and harmful. In these zines, they often advocated for the extermination of gay people, insisted gay people were indoctrinating children, compared abortion to the Holocaust, believed women should not be allowed to access birth control, and wrote offensive things about women who disagreed with their views, such as calling them "lard cunts." They also advocated for positive things like racial justice, police abolition, and environmental preservation.

Andy was in a band with S when he was like 15 years old and a lot of the zines were put out in association with this band. When Pete was like 14 and a literal child, he was in a band that probably identified with this movement, and a lot of his other bands were not explicitly identified with this movement, but shared a lot of scene real estate with them. I'm pretty sure R and S were like 5 years older.

As Pete and Andy became young adults (17-19), they started their own bands that focused entirely on positive things like racial justice or veganism, but still shared spaces with bands who held certain beliefs about abortion, birth control, women, and gay people. Then, as actual adults (21-23), they started Fall Out Boy, which sought to be positive and inclusive to everyone, and later used Fall Out Boy's influence to advocate for both pro-choice and pro-gay activism.

They ended up not wanting to release Evening Out on S's label, and while they have never gotten too explicit about it and have primarily focused on the quality of the demos, I am pretty sure a big part of it was S's beliefs. Evening Out came out on the label anyway, it made a bunch of money, and a lot of that money was used to fuel this subculture, which they were not okay with but did not have a choice in because they signed a contract with S to further the band.

As decades progressed, R and S slowly dialed back the more problematic elements of their beliefs a lot. R became a journalist at the same publication as the ghostwriter of Pete's book, most likely while still identifying with this movement. S is often quoted as an authority on Fall Out Boy.

In 2013, R wrote what is one of the most influential and widely circulated pieces of journalism on Fall Out Boy's history. In 2023, Fall Out Boy re-released this piece as a book. They made a lot of edits, which included removing a misogynistic comment from Pete as well as references to politics in hardcore. Around when they did this, scans of the piece on Reddit that had been widely viewed and circulated for the last decade were taken down due to copyright. This piece quoted from S a lot, and S is often quoted as an authority on FOB in general. R definitely profited from the release of this book though he is no longer affiliated with the movement discussed in this post, and he probably wrote a lot of other journalism about FOB, and he probably got into journalism partially through publishing these hateful zines about women and gay people.

I'm focusing on R and S in this post for the sake of giving examples to provide simplicity because they are some of the biggest names, but benefits of Fall Out Boy's legacy carries over to a lot of people associated with hardcore, and I think Fall Out Boy's hardcore roots are often sanitized in order to protect Fall Out Boy's image as well as hardcore's image, especially in relation to women and feminism.

And that's often not good when most people dominating music history are straight men, and people like R who was arguably part of a hate group are the ones who get to decide which perspectives are and are not included in seemingly "objective" documents like oral histories, which is often problematic as these documents posit that women just didn't exist, when in reality, Riot Grrrl and hardcore existed at the same time and were often reacting to each other on issues like race and women's rights. Obviously, there are problematic elements of Riot Grrrl too.

Anyway, it's often treated as if women or gay people in emo didn't exist and never accomplished anything because "They were no women at Warped because they weren't good enough to play" "There were no women on X label/tour/whatever because they weren't good enough" "There were no girls in bands in the 90s" "That girl's band isn't "really" emo so she doesn't matter and she shouldn't be in the book" And there's no consideration of how major players in "emo" viewing feminists as "lard cunts," or things like that thing about that guy who ran Warped intentionally pairing up bands with MCR with homophobic bands to cause heckling and drama, impacted who is considered "really emo" today and which smaller male bands have been chosen as important, legacy acts despite not being commercially successful, versus how female fronted bands that aren't commercially successful are dismissed as failures that don't matter, and how this is currently impacting things like WWWY or the Warped comeback.

And fans of MCR, FOB, and Panic often do not engage with these discussions in a constructive way, partially due to how they are wholly informed by (see above discourse about The Narrative).

Someone wrote a 250 page zine mostly about the movement I've discussed and touches on Fall Out Boy's relation to it and made it available for free, it's very well written and well cited as well as taking a very balanced perspective.

[thedaddycomplex]

How did you begin your success journey as a writer? I feel as though there are so many paths and the pressure to find the right path is so overwhelming.

Oh, "success journey" sounds so nice, much better than "a series of major calamities and general dip-shittery" that actually got me here.

First, let me say you are absolutely right that there are many paths. And please don't feel pressure to find the "right" one. There's no correct or perfect path, only the one that gets you there. And it'll likely be a total surprise once you arrive to learn that you were on a path at all. I sure a shit was.

OK, I'll give you my whole story, not just the beginning. Because I feel like it was a bunch of beginnings in a row. So hold tight, I can get long-winded about this stuff...

I began my professional post-college career as a journalist, where I honed my writing voice. Honing your voice is a huge component for any writer, I believe. But, you can do that just by writing and writing more, any way and anywhere you can—blog, diary, bathroom stalls, wherever. But, journalism and I didn't get along and soon found I had angered any newspaper editor that might hire me.

I did some odd gigs here and there (communications manager, copywriter, reality TV writer), but nothing I could call a career. Not long after our twins were born, I started this very Tumblr account and started chronicling my repeated cartoonish failures as a stay-at-home father.

I found a supportive community here—another big component for any writer—and I started to get attention outside of Tumblr. A fellow parenting Tumblr liked my writing and put me in touch with her friend, who is an awesome agent. So, then I had an agent, but nothing to sell. I felt stupid. I had a tool and no materials to build anything.

About a year later, at what felt like my lowest point ever, I wrote a snarky shit-post lampooning all of the various parenting crazes and techniques. It went viral (strangely, pretty much everywhere but Tumblr). A book deal soon followed.

That first book became a bestseller. And my relationship with that publisher grew into more book deals. And I parlayed my new career as an author into an even newer career as a screenwriter.

It all was... no. It all is so fucking weird.

None of it would have happened if I hadn't honed my writing voice at a job that wouldn't last long. None of that would have happened if I could've afforded to join a more "professional" blogging platform (Tumblr is free and I was poor). And I never would have landed an agent if I hadn't met the wonderful parenting community here. And I wouldn't have written a post that changed my life if I didn't vent some ol' fashioned pettiness and anger with my writing.

So, yeah, maybe it is a success journey. To me it's just a series of major calamities and general dip-shittery.

But, it's the path that got me here. And I'm fine with that.

So, don't worry, @dulxetwrites. You'll find your own path. Just keep writing, keep making and taking opportunities. It'll seem random, chaotic, sometimes tragic, always weird.

That's all OK. Because all journeys would be boring without a little calamity.

[avoliot]

Querying

I got an ask on querying, which I answered privately as it had personal details in it, but thought the info might be useful more widely. As I didn't officially query I have crowdsourced some tips from my agented friends who did (ed: the group chat would like me to say i have 'consulted the sages') so here is the collected wisdom, which I have sorted into categories.

Please note that this is largely based on querying US agents.

Before you start:

Prepare yourself emotionally for rejection. if at all possible, write another book. Really common not to get rep for your first novel and really common for the book you got signed for not to sell. Honestly a lot of the confusion around querying is like, this is not about getting a good mark in writing a book. This is starting a career.

Don't jump the gun - make sure you've polished your book as much as possible yourself, sought feedback from beta readers and critique partners etc.

Finding agents:

Use manuscript wishlist, query tracker etc to build a list of agents, research their sales history in your genre.

If you can: spring for a publishers marketplace membership for at least a month (it's $25 and you can cancel any time). That way you can see who is selling comparative titles and whether they are selling to reputable publishers.

Don't query anyone you're not actually prepared to sign with. No agent is better than a bad agent.

Query letter:

Make sure you actually understand your genre, are reading recent releases, and know where your book would sit on the shelf, the number of people trying to query 200k game of thrones clones and getting nowhere because the industry moved on from there two decades ago is shockingly high.

Have a really solid idea of what the marketable hook for the book is. Which doesn't have to be what you personally like about it or what makes it good.

Use resources to both read a lot of query letters and, if you like, get yours critiqued. QueryShark archives are free and incredibly helpful. r/pubtips is, despite being reddit, a pretty good place to get specific feedback on your query

Pubtips also has wiki resources on query letter structure, vetting agents etc.

More details:

Even if you've got a series ready to go, you'll probably get further querying it as a standalone with series potential, 'this is the first in a seven part series and I love my characters so much and blahblah' isn't as appealing as you'd think.

Don't editorialise and praise your own manuscript, let people decide for themselves whether it's sensitive/gripping/lyrical.

This is a business letter, you don't need to be SUPER formal, but also be polite and professional and don't get overly familiar.

Referring to other authors the agent reps and how you see your work fitting in with that list also can be effective, but on the whole, personalisation is only necessary if there's something you really want to say to that particular agent. "I'm querying you with my fantasy book because you rep fantasy" can just be left out.

Don't comp the absolute no. 1 bestseller in your genre, comping Sanderson for your fantasy book (or, even worse, Tolkein) will make you look wildly out of touch.

Misc:

be prepared to wait a billion years for a response, it is a shitshow right now

also if you don't know anyone in publishing that's normal but if ur serious about writing professionally please god make friends with some writers at the same career stage. not a query tip but truly essential for ur sanity

[veliseraptor]

April Reading Recap

Now with Storygraph generated visuals!

Finished out my Wheel of Time reread last month with Towers of Midnight and A Memory of Light; I still have all the same frustrations with both and with Brandon Sanderson's books more generally but A Memory of Light did make me cry (again) so...I have to give it credit there, if for nothing else. The other 11 books I read, not including the Black Widow trade paperback collections that I reread (mostly because I felt lazy about it):

The Haunting of Room 904 by Erika Wurth. This book confused me - as in, I wasn't totally sure what was going on or why. The plot was happening but I wasn't really following the chain of causality most of the time. I'm still going to read Erika Wurth's other book, because I didn't find the experience of reading itself to be unenjoyable, and maybe it was just me, but...damn, I felt like I was struggling to piece this book's disparate pieces together and figure out what it was saying.

A Rome of One's Own: The Forgotten Women of the Roman Empire by Emma Southon. I don't know that I could adequately explain why I picked this one up when I was mildly irritated by A Fatal Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, except that I guess gender-related studies of the Roman Republic/Empire are catnip to me in a similar way that mythological retellings are (I often don't like them, I read them anyway). I was once again mildly irritated by the chatty, conversational tone of this book, which is really a me problem and not an it problem but I did find it personally grating. The scholarship underlying the text might be strong but the text itself feels like it undermines the scholarship. Or maybe I'm just a snob.

The Merciful Crow by Margaret Owen. I almost never read YA for a few different reasons, but this one was recommended by a friend so I gave it a go. And it was pretty good! But still did feel very YA to me in a lot of ways. I don't know if I'll pick up the sequel. I might, because it was a very quick read and I found some of the worldbuilding interesting, but I didn't really connect to most of the characters and found the plot fairly predictable.

Metal From Heaven by August Clarke. I've seen this book recommended widely so I had high hopes for it, and I wasn't...disappointed? Exactly? But I don't think it really worked for me. Possibly some of that is that first person narration is something that is really hit-or-miss for me, but honestly I think more of it comes down to the fact that - and I feel like I keep saying this - it ended up feeling like the delivery mechanism for a manifesto rather than a narrative. Which wasn't inevitable, I don't think! There were interesting things going on here, potentially! Though I think they were underexploited in terms of the, I don't know, moral thorniness that was kind of brushed off by the "our thieves are good and moral" thing. Reminded me a little of what happened with the Lords of Fortune in Veilguard, honestly.

I don't know. Maybe if I can come out of a book feeling like I can confidently say what an author's political stance is on a specific issue, I'm just not going to like it. And now I'm talking myself into feeling like maybe I was disappointed after all.

America for Americans: A History of Xenophobia in the United States by Erika Lee. I've had Erika Lee's other book (on Asian-American history in the United States) on my shelf for a while but got to this one first largely because. You know. I definitely learned about a few new chapters of ignominy in US history that I wasn't previously aware of; I was already in agreement with the main thesis of this book (that xenophobia is a core and recurring piece of United States culture) so that wasn't a revelation to me or anything. This was published pre-2020 but the paperback included a postlude on racism against Asians and Asian-Americans around the outbreak of COVID.

A Short History of Queer Women by Kirsty Loehr. Speaking of books with a chatty, conversational tone that turns me off! This was supposed to be a fun little interlude, took me a few hours to read, I thought I would enjoy it. It annoyed me. It did, however, provide me with a citation of a more sober history of lesbian women that I probably will enjoy more.

The Icepick Surgeon: Murder, Fraud, Sabotage, Piracy, and Other Dastardly Deeds Perpetuated in the Name of Science by Sam Kean. This one was...fine. It was fun, it was interesting, it was trying a little too hard to have a moral message and not just enjoy the narrative ride of people doing wild (and often terrible) things in the name of science. I was also sort of irritated by the author's constant footnotes basically saying "go check out my podcast for more on this!" but maybe that is unfair of me.

Birds of Prey: Murder & Mystery by Gail Simone, Ed Benes, et. al. I don't remember exactly what inspired me to go back and reread this run (because I have read it before), but something did. The art has not aged well; the writing is still quite good. I am, if anyone was wondering, still bitter about DC "fixing" Babs and effectively deaging her.

A Culture of Conspiracy: Apocalyptic Visions in Contemporary America by Michael Barkun. I pulled a quote from this one that was very oof to read in our year 2025. It was originally published in 2003; there's a second edition from 2013 with additional material that I'm trying to acquire, but even that is going to be miserably out of date as far as the current state of conspiracy thought in the United States. I'm glad I read it, though; the most potent thing I took out of it was probably the way the author discussed the shift from conspiracies that are either religious or secular in origin to what he called "improvisational," meaning that they are omnivorous and borrow from multiple, unrelated strains of thought/ideology. I also just finished another book about conspiratorial thinking in the US and found myself comparing it unfavorably to this one, despite the other one being newer.

The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett. I love mysteries though I sometimes forget how much. I love second-world fantasy (obviously). I also really love Robert Jackson Bennett's work and pretty much have across the board (though I haven't finished the series beginning with Foundryside). This is clearly riffing on Sherlock Holmes but secondary world, but it worked for me and I'm excited to read the sequel.

The Voyage Home by Pat Barker. I read The Women of Troy a while back and don't really remember it, but The Silence of the Girls by the same author remains one of my all-time standouts of Iliad retellings and myth retellings in general so when I saw this one, and read that it was going to cover some Oresteia ground, I tossed it on to-read list fast. I liked this one better than I remember enjoying the second one - I don't think one needs to read either of the others to read this, though there are connections between them. I think what made this book work for me in a way that myth retellings often (generally) don't was the fact that it felt much less like it was self-consciously Retelling a Myth with a point to make than it was taking an existing story and working within it to tell a different story. It felt much more about the characters than about the myth, if that makes sense. I think telling a solid third+ of the novel from an outside point-of-view - not one of the core myth characters - was also a good choice, here.

---

Anyway - I have about 8 books out from the public library right now, so those are taking priority, followed by the two books I have borrowed from a friend. It's about half/half fiction/nonfiction, mostly horror, so I'm going to try to alternate. Right now I am reading Hungerstone by Kat Dunn, which I am excited about; also upcoming is The Museum of Other People and The Reformatory.

also continuing to reread a bunch more comics, apparently.

[meirimerens]

Do you have recommendations on reading sth more experimental? 👀

fair warning a lot of the experimental shit i've read i've read in art school context so i have no idea if the classmates who made it published it somewhere + it is kinda hard to recommend experimental shit by virtue of it being experimental so i'm going to rec stuff that i consider like. "mainstream" experimental as in yeah an author wrote this. also the "actually unconventional" bar is pretty low starting from the stuff i was moaning about so well also ☝ love pushing upon people books i've read + i know for a fact i've pushed them before lollll so

mainstream as it goes: House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. like you know?

unconventional in essence through shape. it is one book of ergodic literature and if you dig into ergodic literature you will find unconventionality that's kinda Its Thing. i understand by standards for "unconventional prose/pacing" get pretty high once you've put your eyes on this but like. i got more conventional in shape that still are unconventional in prose of pacing.

still mainstream-ish? if you're French? she was an author well-known and important in her time and place (she's still alive it's just that she was important as an author of the literary feminist wave in the 60s & 70s), Anankè by Hélène Cixous. i've read it in french and have no idea how it fares in english (or translated otherwise) but if you want unconventional pacing and prose you're getting unconventional pacing and prose. it is full to the brim with homonyms (hence why idk how it fares in english), of subject-to-attribute uncouplings (a verb conjugated for "I", a subject as "she"), words straight up made the fuck up through homonymy (like "téléfaune", from téléphone and faune [faun/satyr]). some sentences are 2 full pages long, reading them feels like trying to ride out an engine startle. it has no plot, it is about an internal trip, a self-actualization from girl to woman, or from chaperoned woman to free woman. you don't read this for plot, you read this to feel like you've traveled with your head through the open window, and for the imagery, god the imagery i find so very great. unlikely associations, quite sensorial. it's a short book but i've needed multiple tries to get through it because, as i've said, the long sentences feel like trying to hold onto a hand-cranked engine start. the pacing feels cyclical, like an endless stop and start, expressing the internal conflict. you have to hold onto it.

mainstream-ish again if you're french, Le Corps Lesbien [The Lesbian Body] by Monique Wittig. it's one of those where if you're not on that crazy shit you're gonna get yucked, it is endlessly violent in grotesque ways that make you horribly aware of all the anatomical details of your body. it alternates horrible and grotesque neverending violence with horrible and grotesque neverending tenderness (& sometimes neverending tenderness in/through grotesque violence or vice-versa). another one of those where the english translation cannot truly do it justice because french has "elles [female plural they]" and "ils [male plural they]" and wittig goes out of her way to never use ils [french has "masculine as default" grammatical gender]. in the french text, "je" (subject "I") is cleaved in twain: "j/e". In english, they've just italicized it; i think they'd have done well to use something like the polish ł to figure it. anyways barely a plot either. cyclical destruction in grotesque ways that both are anatomical impossible and yet horrifyingly anatomically-anchored. re:the violence in this i'm sure if you've read like. "extreme horror" novels by whichever male author of the month it is you probably won't flinch but i've read this after a long streak of nonfiction & poetry.

i think a bit less mainstream because i've been told about it in art school lol after i had partaken in a collective performance and my stuff had for base a poem about a roadkill that neverendingly dies then is reborn only to die again anyways Jaguar Harmonics by Anne Waldman. closer to poems than literature-in-prose (even if it is in prose instead of rhyme) it is about/from the yagé (ayahuasca) ritual by waldman, poet & buddhist & activist who brings in the text a lot of subjects and themes (the anthropocene, colonization, environmental and feminist concerns,...). it is poetry, so technicallyyyyyyy unconventional by nature as far as literature goes, + spoken poetry at that, i know for a fact there is a bandcamp where you can listen to the poems spoken/sung.

what else. since i'm on the topic of poetry check out Guillaume Apollinaire's Calligrammes i guess

you'll hate me for bringing it up again + it's poetry also againnnn LOL but The Oresteia as transladaptated by Tony Harrison. i find it's great english it uses words that brother i've never seen used. and i loooooove a made-up compound word the people know this about me. let's liven this shit up let's make words up!

French has l'Oulipo ("Ouvroir de littérature potentielle", "opener of potential literature") with representatives such as Raymond Queneau who made a book of poems that looks like this

OH AND HE MADE "EXERCISES DE STYLE" which i quite like also (99 times the same story written with different stylistic/literary constraints)

[xclowniex]

Okay I need peoples opinions in this.

There is a tik tok creator and author who has a series on tik tok they're trying to turn into a book called Cafae Latte.

It is this very queer and diverse series. All characters are played by one woman, the creator who is white.

She has 2 jewish characters, both are dragons who shape shifted into humans. One wears a magen david and the other is orthodox and wears a tichel. The creator wears them when portraying the respective characters

Now I have an issue with this for a few reasons which all fall under the big glaring thing of, they didn't consult any jews or do any research past the surface!

First issue of business is the tichel. I do find it incredibly disrespectful for a non jew to wear a tichel when you're portraying a Jewish character and you can't even get tzniut correctly. It wasn't until they finally got a tichel, that they learnt thay they needed to cover their collar bone and elbows. Especially when you also don't call it a tichel and just call it a "jewish head covering". If you're trying to make a Jewish character who keeps tzniut, these are basic things you should know if you did any research!

Second order of business, the magen david. I do find this disrespectful as it's not really for non jews to wear???? Like it's not like you commit this great atrocity by wearing it. But considering their poor rep with the character above, I doubt they know anything meaning behind it and why its important to jews. Plus it's pretty much literally just used to signify that the character is Jewish and that's it.

Thirdly order of business, idk how else to start this besides, they unjewished hebrew??????

Like they were creating a family crest for one of their jewish characters and had this design with the tree of life and some hebrew and wanted help on getting the hebrew correct and said "hebrew speakers and that probably include jews, I think. I need your help with this hebrew".

Like excuse me what. Not all jews speak hebrew and not all hebrew speakers are jewish, but the majority of hebrew speakers are jewish. Adding jews as this after thought which may technically be included is awful.

Last order of business. This time, not about the jewish characters but the arab and muslim one.

Therre is this character they play who is a Muslim arab amercian and they said in their intro post for this character "I'm not sure which arab country specifically she is from as I'm not educated enough". Like excuse me what. There are cultural differences between different arab countries, not in a way which they're completely different from each other but it is a thing.

And to make matters worse, she has a YouTube video giving tips on writing diversity well.

And idk it just really irks me as they are a published writer, who is all about good diversity representation yet can't even do it properly. Consulting jews, not even jews actually, hebrew speakers to use their words, is not enough to give good rep. You need to talk to rabbis, jewish community leaders in general.

[mimiri22-6]

Ok so, something's been driving me crazy for the past 2-3 days now; I can't find one fanfic!

-its a stranger things fic

-eddie still dies

-Steve visit his grave regularly

-wayne visits the grave to clean graffiti off it...or Steve does that, I can't remember now

-wayne talks to Steve about Eddie

-Steve slowly falls in love with these stories of Eddie and mourns never knowing him

-the kids graduate and are semi scattered around out of hawkins...or just spend A Lot less time with Steve nowI CAN'T FUCKING REMEMBE-

-leaving Steve and Wayne to themselves

-Steve and Wayne move in together/Wayne moves into the Harrington house because they are both just so sad

-meanwhile Eddie is slowly helped back to his body my El being directed by some gov/lab people

-its a success, and her and Eddie get along. I think.

-eddie still has to recover because he was comatose/dead for the past year(s?)(maybe the kids didn't graduate yet?????IDFK)

-El did all of this in secret without telling anyone, but since she would be gone for a long while she told a lie or something? Or she told the truth that she was going to the gov again, but didn't say why? I forget exactly how she loopholed her way out of not lying about where she was going

-El brings Eddie back while Steve is visiting Eddie's grave again and gets whiplash when Eddie speaks up behind him

-one of the gov guys, maybe the main one, was with and says something along the lines of'this is compensation, we found him and said 'we can use this'' he doesn't Really say that, but that's the vibe

-it was originally on Tumblr in multiple linked parts, I'm pretty sure, but it eventually got put on AO3 too? Maybe? Hopefully

-I Rb'd it but I stopped religiously adding tags forever ago when I Still couldn't find anything

-multiple povs, obviously, but specifically Wayne, Steve, Eddie, and El I'm pretty sure.

-i think I was looking for 'wayne munson major character death, or something' at the time and now I've exhausted all avenues and it's taking prescious time out of my homework hours because I can't stop thinking about it.

OH

-im pretty sure I read it back in 2023, if not, I 1000000% didn't read it this year and I Really think I didn't read it last year, aka 2024. So date published is narrowed down two, BUT I STILL COULDN'T PIN IT DOWN-

-Edit: Timeline for when I most likely read it is ACTUALLY February 3rd 2023-late June 2023 AT IT'S MOST NARROWED, CURRENTLY. I've gone backwards in my post history, and now I'm using the tumblr mass edit tool to try and find it. wish me luck o7

-it could be tagged steddie, but I was thinking it might have been one of those'i wrote this platonically but you can interpret this anyway you want' fics and that's another reason why I'm so unsure about this fucking thing

-there was absolutely no sign of the author bringing Eddie back in the first part/chapter until Eddie gave Steve whiplash

-the pov after Steve was Wayne and then maybe El and then Eddie? But the first 2 I'm pretty positive of

-i have no clue if there was a prologue, but they do bring the party back together to surprise them with Eddie and I Think that's where it ends

-it felt like a long read, but I could be wrong, it definitely wasn't short though

I was doing the search again this morning and I still haven't eaten and the cats haven't eaten, and I still have to read/consume material before class today and and💥(I'm legit going a little mad looking for this thing, I haven't been able to sleep a full night)

[unofficial-underfell]

Hey guys, I've been thinking about making this post for a long time and I think its finally time I do so. After realizing that some of my last work was done over a year ago, I don't think I can really ignore it anymore. While I haven't quite thrown in the towel on this quite yet, it's pretty evident to me and I'm sure to everyone who still follows this blog that my fervor for the project has drastically decreased. And has been kind of dead for a while. The comic has not been a priority to me, or posting online much at all actually. I did some soul searching and found that I'd started relying on outside approval for my art instead of doing art for the sake of wanting to tell a story and express myself throughout my work. I have limited energy and depression and sometimes it feels like i get such little progress done even though it takes all of my energy. While I'm trying to go to the gym more and build better habits my energy levels and mood still have a lot to be desired, and I'd rather use the limited energy I have to work on something I'm more passionate about.

I've been trying to grow my skills and absorb more stories and I've moved around a lot and started to listen to what I really felt, and I found that a lot of the art I want to focus on deals with heavier and more mature topics. I do love this story, and all of the characters and I feel like I could make a really clever subversion of what is expected from an Underfell comic. But I feel like in these uncertain times with the world and with all of the stuff going on right now, I'd like to use my energy to work on stories that hit closer to the things that I feel are important. So that's why I've not been posting much.

I'm working on a book, and I've actually got quite a lot of progress done on it, but because of all the horror stories online about people stealing author's original works, I'm kind of holding off on publishing any chapters before I can copyright the first draft of the novel. So my online activity will still be pretty scarce for a bit, though I'll still post occasionally on my @cosmicpixel01 account. I'll try better to not be so radio silent though lol. Even if that means I'll post something boring about my dog or books I'm reading just so everyone knows I'm still alive.

I don't want to call it quits on the story. But I also feel like you guys have been kept waiting to see what happens for a really long time, and that makes me feel so guilty. I will try to finish up the pages I have in the works, and I'm probably going to switch to a different format that is some drawings, some writing to finish the story. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to finish it the way I intended for you guys, even with all of the support and kind words and even the fanart that I've kept in a folder on my desktop. I am letting a lot of you down, but I feel like the radio silence is probably more irresponsible than just going out and saying something. And I'm sorry I've kept you all waiting for a not-so-happy update on the blog.

I hope that some of you will continue to follow me for some of my other exploits and see whatever other things I have going on, but I understand that you all followed me for Undertale so I don't want you to feel any sort of guilt if you decide not to. I'm just happy you all supported me for so long.

I'll try to work on this blog again soon, and if anyone has any questions, my asks are open, though I'll probably keep the asks private. Until then I hope everyone stays safe out there. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

-Avery

[wrongcaitlyn]

okay fuck so i got an anon ask for solangelo fic recs and then i made a draft on my phone but then deleted it bc i wanted to type it out on my computer but then that deleted the ask too so!! hopefully this reaches the anon i apologize deeply for losing your ask😭

but anyway. SOLANGELO FIC RECS. ALWAYS. ANYTIME. I HAVE SO MANY

so first of all if you wanna check out my ao3 i have a bunch of recs in my bookmarks (57 solangelo ones im pretty sure)

but here are some of my favs

i'm put in awe (of something so flawed and free) by CordeliaRose (@cordelia---rose)

archaeologist!Nico & trauma surgeon!Will AU. this fic is. ohmgyod. nico's internal dialogue is just absolutely perfect in this fic and i laughed so hard and god it was just so beautifully written?? but also solangelo are literally so cute. like. ahglskdf. i gotta reread this actually but anyway (also anything by this author, absolutely hilarious, such good writing)

dumb, dumb love by thegoldenappleofdiscord

five times nico and will are dumb and in love, and the one time they are totally 100% dead serious. i love a good outsider's pov, and this fic is just gorgeous. it's a bunch of different perspectives into solangelo, and it's pure fluff, and it's got some of my favorite solangelo quotes (like, when i read fanfic i screenshot parts i rlly like and i practically screenshotted this entire fic), and their characterization is just so so accurate they're so so in love

paris by ethannku (@ethannku)

Nico has a travel YouTube channel. And a crush on one Will Solace. i'm such a sucker for socmed au's and this one is done SO so well. my all time favorite. and it's sequel too!! the formatting i am in awe of, but other than that, it's just a really good time and i just love all the little details. i've reread this too many times to count and was SO excited when a sequel was published, and i can only hope that there's more to the au in the future!! (also this author writes incredible solangelo fics and even more valgrace fics which i recently just bingeread and are soo good)

Perfect Places by buoyantsaturn (@buoyantsaturn)

“My name’s Will,” he started - so far so good - but then continued, “and I guess my favorite food to cook would be, um, frozen pizza.” Was Nico only attracted to idiots? this one's fucking hilarious. i can't even put it to words like their dynamic in this fic is so funny and yet so cute and nico is honestly just like. shocked that will is somehow still alive?? will's a safety hazard. but also piper and jason in this fic are so funny too, it's honestly just such a good, fun read (and, once again, this author's incredible. read everything by them)

I Can't Help It If You Look Like an Angel by the_oncoming_stormaggedon (@lordstormageddidnt)

Will Solace is a pre-med student whose friends run a true crime podcast called "Nothing to See Here". Nico di Angelo, despite not realizing he's a missing person, is the subject of one of the episodes. They meet by chance in a random bar, and shenanigans ensue. i mean, if it's got a taylor swift title, i'm already sold. and then it's part of a series called "Hey Stephen is a solangelo song and i will die on that hill" which is the realest thing ever?? but ASIDE from that, i could honestly rec this entire series (+ the other series it's a part of, "Nothing to See Here" which is all part of the same au) and also everything by this author - it's hilarious, i just love the premise, and the writing is so good!! and hey stephen is a solangelo song, thereby reinforcing my "fearless is will's favorite album ever of all time and i will die on this hill" argument

Even When the Music's Gone by the_oncoming_stormaggedon

It's the 74th Annual Hunger Games, and Nico and Will are the last two tributes alive. haha this is pure angst. just gutwrenching angst. love a good hunger games au and some MCD!

can i handle the seasons of my life? by buoyantsaturn

“I think that most people your age finished high school, and whether they knew what they wanted to do with the rest of their life or not, they went to college. That was their version of ditching everything they knew in order to find themselves. Maybe it’s time for you to stop taking advice from other kids who grew up the same way you did, and take it from someone who used to be normal.”  FAME AU FAME AU FAME AU FAME AU i mean, not REALLY about the fame aspect of it, but i still love it so so much. will's essentially a nepo baby turned not-nepo-baby turned college student and nico's naomi's driver, and there's even... there's EVEN A VERY BRIEFLY IMPLIED POLLEN. yeah they're relationship is just so cute in this and i love the au and i love how it's written and ugh i need more fame au's in my life

so it turns out teachers don't live at school by RegretfullyRegretful (@marbleheavy)

Nico's TA and students are determined to figure out something, anything about him. Of course, it would all just be a lot easier if they asked. Either way, Professor di Angelo is decidedly a lonely hermit. (Someone should really tell his husband and baby that) this was one of the first solangelo fics i ever read, and it's just. so. funny. another outsider's pov bc i love it, and just... the assumptions abt nico, the fluff of solangelo, and then their story of how they got together is so...ahhsdlkjs this author is just a master at tooth-rotting fluff go read everything they write

my lover's the sunlight by demigodbeautiies

Figure Skater Nico di Angelo has a run in with Ice Hockey Player Will Solace. It doesn't go too smoothly, but then again - when does it ever? OLYMPICS AU. FAME(ISH) AU. IM OBSESSED THIS IS WRITTEN SO WELL and like... the very brief part where it feels a lot like a fame au like i just i'm obsessed can you tell. the writing is just beautiful in this, i love nico's internal dialogue, and... i mean, it's an olympics au. ofc its perfect

The Stolen God by TsarinaTorment (@tsarinatorment)

Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus? okay so. this is a bit of a longer fic. and it's a post-toa, pjoxmcga crossover, and it's not *entirely* focused on solangelo - but when i tell you that this fic, if i weren't reading it on ao3, i would truly and full-heartedly believe was a real life published novel - i am NOT LYING. i rec'd this to my friend right after i read it bc i was just like so so obsessed with it and it's literally just. the plot?? is insane. i'm in awe of the author, bc this isn't even the only novel-length fic that they've written with an insane plot too (their fic Eclipse is also phenomenal, but it's more focused on apollo and hades so i didn't rec it here) there's some fierrochase here, lester being lester, and some very very very cute solangelo! and meg! i think sometimes you read a fic and you're like "oh, shit, that could be a novel, and i would think it's better than some actual novels i've read" and this is one of them

(Please Don't Let Me) Fade Alone by TsarinaTorment

Please. Don't let me. the summary's really short here so it's basically that will gets very very very injured and then apollo saves him (rip, i'm sorry, i suck at summaries) once again this isn't necessarily nico focused... it's much more will & apollo. this author writes the absolute best stuff for the apollo cabin, genuinely, if you love will/cabin 7/apollo PLEASE read everything they've ever written but this is just so angsty and the hurt/comfort is so real and goddd it's so good

he was seen on occasion (pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea) by stargirltv

Nico di Angelo is a completely normal eighteen year old. He attends high school, has a socially acceptable amount of friends for a social outcast and has been in a relationship for the past four years with the guy he’s pretty sure he’s going to marry. He also happens to be the world's biggest bedroom pop artist, ‘Hell’s Angel’, with a fan base that will stop at nothing to uncover his true identity and a Father that continually pushes him to be better. His boyfriend freaking out under every single one of his tweets is making it a bit easier for them to figure it out. so. fame au. y'all already know the premise of this is just absolutely hilarious and the interview?? the posts?? will just being will and i absolutely love his characterization?? and the friend group?? this is one of the funniest things ever but also just written so well anddddd yes yes yes it's a fame au POPSTAR NICO RIGHTS except he's not *really* a popstar in this one but like close enough oh AND it's a taylor swift title??? like this fic was made for me basically

okay that was MUCH longer than intended but i hope you enjoy some of the fics on here!! pls let me know if y'all ever want more recs i read literally so many fics - and if you guys ever want to give me any recs, feel free to do so! as of today, i have read *checks fic tracker bc i'm obsessive and need to keep track of everything* about 7.3 million words of fanfic this year. and that's actually less than normal (for me)

also if anyone reads patrochilles please read this fic it's literally been in my head nonstop for the past few weeks since i've read it and it's one of the best things i've ever read and like holyshit if you read patrochilles read it read it read it

[olderthannetfic]

Sending this to you specifically because I feel like you're the only normal brained person about this series.

I read Captive Prince a couple of years ago and liked it fine, as someone who doesn't have a strong preference for or against m/m and therefore isn't well-versed enough in its clichés to notice whether it reads like something full of cliché fanfic tropes. I really liked the use of language, some of the historical/political stuff, some of the ways that the characters are made complicated or unreliable.

The problem is, I've since coincidentally read most of the books that were Pacat's inspiration and. Well. Like 80-90% of the stuff in there has direct parallels in one of those. I'm not sure if there are more than three original thoughts in there.

I am not joking, if you read 1. The Lymond Chronicles and House of Niccolò by Dorothy Dunnett; 2. The Nightrunner series by Lynn Flewelling and 3. The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice, you will find that some of the scenes were ripped off beat for beat, many jokes were taken and just lazily reworded, a lot of the character beats and arcs are at best a mashup of 2 or maximum 3 things from those books with the serial numbers filed off really poorly. There's a scene where some characters discover a suicide victim whose structure and descriptions are completely ripped off from another series, except Pacat fails to see what made the original scene so impactful. A lot of the pretty use of language is also directly copied from those, including some really really specific descriptors. It's so blatant!

And I don't see how people are okay with this! I know people who are fans of several of these works and they're totally cool with it! And honestly if it were some rando's unpublished original project I'd be cool with it too, but as a published beloved worldwide phenomenon with rabid fans? C'mon.

And another thing is, all of the other series mentioned above are balls to the wall insane. She just... she just made it bland. She took off most of the edge and reshuffled the elements into a fairly straightforward MLM love story with some light kink thrown in. It's not a BAD series, but I feel like I'm disappointed that someone read all my favourite books and THAT was their takeaway?

--

I started reading, got to the name of the series and burst out laughing.

And, wow, you brought up something totally new that I hadn't thought about! I'm impressed. Genuinely. Usually, I rant about all the reasons I hate the series while debunking the standard anti talking points.

--

I've read the Vampire Chronicles, but that was in the 90s and I read Captive Prince in like 2016 or after. I had zero recollection of common points. I haven't read The Lymond Chronicles despite years of hurt/comfort fans bugging me to do so, and I think I got like a chapter into the Nightrunner series before getting distracted...

The reason I found Captive Prince annoying and derivative is that it also reads exactly like the original m/m that was available when it was first being written, most notably the work of P.L. Nunn who was extremely famous for horny fan art but who also wrote some original m/m fantasy novels. The scene where they finally bone reminds me heavily of the one from... uh... what's the P.L. Nunn one where the prince creeps on that archer dude and he gets raped because of course and then the prince has to be ~patient~ and it's peak boring 2000s rape recovery tropes?

The rape backstory is not only lifted from Fushigi Yuugi (the author's fandom at the time) but is shared with basically 100% of original m/m from that era. It's sometimes the uncle, sometimes the stepfather. One single time that I can think of, it was the foster brother, but mostly it's that "funny uncle" type. Unless it's gang rape from a bad Gundam Wing fic. That was also everywhere.

Once somebody told me the author had previously shipped Tamahome/Nakago, I realized that they'd taken what would be a kind of unusual anime ship and made it a thousand times more boring by dumbing down the scary, tall general with the tragic backstory into an uke-appropriate waif.

So I guess what I'm saying is that there may be some inspiration you aren't familiar with, but it's the same story as what you said above: this is the blander remix.

--

As for why people are okay with this... honestly, most of the people who really adore the series whom I've talked to point to how it encapsulates the exact tropes and tone they loved in anime fic circa 2000.

As a fellow weeb, I loathed the tone of said anime fic circa 2000 and could not wait for tastes to change, so Captive Prince is a hideous blast from an unlamented past for me.

I think most people who love the series aren't familiar with its inspirations. Those that are may have consumed them quite a while ago and don't realize quite how direct the parallels are. Or, for the inspirations that aren't overtly canon m/m, the lure of it being Exactly Right may overshadow other things.

(They also mostly haven't read 90s fantasy doorstops that actually contain political intrigue, tactics and strategy. Captive Prince is a piss poor entry into this genre and should be recced for m/m, not this other stuff people constantly think is in there. None of these characters can reason their way out of a paper bag.)

More than any of that, there's a lot of love left over from when the series was a serialized original story on Livejournal in an era when we had vanishingly few original m/m works, especially long ones in a fantasy alternate world.

I think that is what gets it a pass when a new m/m novel presented as "m/m romance" or posted on one of the webnovel sites would be mocked for unoriginality. Many Captive Prince fans aren't (or weren't when they read it) all that familiar with the smorgasbord of original m/m available today. Many are unfamiliar with anime fanfic circa 2000, so this feels adjacent to the fic they've read but a little fresher... instead of like the week-old sardine tin I found it to be.