#dunno what else to tag this as and it probably will not get much engagement BUT!!! I AM SO THRILLED WITH HOW IT TURNED OUT REGARDLESS. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clanoffelidae · 2 years

Text

bleh

trying to tell myself that this is the heaviest time of year at work, im very much still recovering from covid, im still hurt by what happened back in early december and having difficulty re-engaging with previous past times because of the associations, and am also currently trying to help a disabled friend get out of his abusive home, find a doctor who can help him, and figure out how he can sustain himself financially long-term in a way that won't make everything worse in the long run by exceeding his limitations; so it's okay that i'm not doing a whole lot of 'fun' things or being super productive, i don't have to be to begin with, but i'm still feeling pretty down at times

i think by and large i'm mostly lonely; while i see people every day at work we're all stressed to hell and back, i retreated from several social circles when the whole deal went down in early december because it was all just constant reminders of what was hurting me (which was absolutely the right call, but the end result was also that, well, now i don't talk to as many people any more :/), and hit me so bad that i really should have gone to the hospital so i've just been too tired to socialize with people both irl and online but unfortunately human brains are stupid and still demand a level of socializing and make you feel bad when you don't get it even when putting in the effort to get it would cause greater overall suffering due to physical and mental stress (i've had like maybe half a spoon since i started feeling really sick around december 22nd-23rd)

i dunno, just externalizing it, if you happen to read this it's probably cause you follow me and so by now you are probably well aware that i do that a lot lol

idk writing in a journal or personal notepad doesn't really help as much, i try to bury these types of posts a lot by not tagging them and putting them under readmores in the hopes that they'll go largely unnoticed, but i need the façade of putting it out there and making it 'public' or else it still circles to an extent; i have to at least be able to pretend i'm saying it to other people to get it out best and unfortunately i haven't been able to cognitive dissonance myself well enough for truly private rambles to help

so like i dunno, if you're reading this don't feel like this is a cry for help or really saying anything, i'm just trying to process how i feel and externalize it in the hopes the bad vibes will ease up a bit

and what sucks even more is that now i feel the need to say that haha; because what hurt me so bad back in december was that two instances of me just posting things on my blog to externalize them, untagged (tagged with commentary but not tagged to be searchable) and hidden under readmores that were just me trying to get negative feelings out in as privately a way as i could while still saying them 'publicly' because my brain is stupid and needs to at least be able to pretend it's being said to other people, were taken and used to call me immature and untrustworthy, i was given no chance to defend myself or even ask questions until i went and tracked someone else down to ask if i could ask questions, no one ever reached out to me and asked about the posts before going ahead and leveling accusations at me (and i know the posts had to go through at least four people's hands and two levels of hierarchy), not once did anyone try to inquire about these non-specific and untagged posts to see if they had the story right, and while during the subsequent conversation one of them was cleared up and apologized for (which i greatly appreciate!) not a single thing was said about the other and the second post had been me venting irrational anxieties about encountering a specific individual who had previously hurt me and when i requested that they (people who used that post to accuse me) not do that to someone again as far as i can tell i was pretty much just brushed off

like if just one person had messaged me and said they were concerned about the posts or wanted to talk to me about them i would've been happy to clear things up right there on the spot

and now i can't even make an anonymous post on my anonymous tumblr blog about the fact that i'm feeling a little down without feeling the need to defend myself for doing so because the last time i did this it was -gestures irritably and exhaustedly to text wall above-

just sucks y'all, idk

at every possible point in that situation i tried to communicate with people when it was clear there was something to communicate about, beyond that i was just externalizing feelings and attempting to make sure they were out of the way and not bothering anyone, you don't get to come in here and demand that i should have taken my vent post about completely irrational anxieties relating to an individual who has harmed me previously to you, complete strangers, instead of just non-specifically venting it and burying it because it's irrational worry and i knew that and was just trying to get it out of my head; especially when you never tried to communicate your concerns to me, as far as i knew we had resolved everything because everything had been cleared up and everyone said it was fine, the sheer hypocrisy and audacity of demanding that i bring my personal trauma and anxiety to complete fucking strangers when said strangers couldn't even be bothered to send me a single damn message related to their own concerns after, again, we had seemingly cleared everything up and everything had been smoothed over because clarifications were made and everyone said it was cool, and then i got taken by complete surprise and felt the damn floor fall away from me after an hour or two once it fully sunk in that the fucking intrusive thoughts i was trying to cope with were used as a weapon against me

like fucking thanks they were already causing me enough difficulty on their own, didn't know they could be weaponized even further, now i know i guess

'but how could anyone have known that-?' maybe if they'd fucking asked me, at literally any point, instead of taking non-specific words from a complete stranger that were not directed at anyone and deciding what they meant in their own heads

but to do a complete tonal whiplash as is my specialty i am well and truly still upset about that and still working on it (emotional processing and recovery was halted by a blast door upon contracting covid wherein i transitioned from fighting a painful emotional situation to fighting for my damn life lol), slowly picking up steam again on working through it and dragging things up back out from where they got hurriedly buried because i had other priorities like trying to continue breathing to sort through them, but as awful as it was the statements of 'i hate that this happened and am extremely hurt by it and am still processing it' and 'if this situation hadn't happened i could've well died or at the very least wound up on a ventilator and with severe lung and probably heart damage from covid so i am simultaneously extremely grateful it happened because i love living and being alive' are not mutually exclusive <3

'lynx what the FUCK do you mean it stopped you from dying or at the very least ending up on a ventilator from covid'

part of the reason the situation was so hard on me was that i had inadvertently entered withdrawal from my adhd meds, an amphetamine, and the situation resulted in that withdrawal going on for much longer than it should have (and may have sort of been the reason it started because i wound up staying up late because i was so excited due to stuff related to the situation before it went to shit and as a result overslept and missed my meds for 2 days in a row and thus started me into withdrawal); it left me struggling to stand and trembling and with a persistent headache and too weak to do much other than stumble to the kitchen for 2 minutes and then stumble back to bed

what this means: i was in severe physical distress due to amphetamine withdrawal BUT i also built up an extra stockpile of the meds i failed to take

i shortly after went up to a higher dose of my meds

i barely had enough to get me through covid

if all of this hadn't happened i would have gone into amphetamine withdrawal from an even HIGHER dose of a medication which left me struggling to stand, extremely weak, and in pain when i went into withdrawal the first time; while being sick with covid that got so severe already that i could feel stuff rattling in my chest with every breath that i was too weak to cough out, i was unable to do more than take extremely shallow breaths because the lower parts of my lungs were gummed up, and i was having to breathe at about 35-40 breaths a minute while lying down resting because if i tried to slow or deepen my breathing at all i would become dizzy from oxygen deprivation

yeah anyway the situation sucks and im still very much working on the emotional hardship it caused and figuring out what to do but on the other hand i am simultaneously extraordinarily grateful for it because whatever benevolent but chaotic entity sets up the rube goldberg machine that is my life (this is NOT the first time something like this has happened, another good example im not going to get into the details of rn is 2 months of extremely painful ear infections saved me from a therapy bill) made sure i wouldn't die or at the very least end up on a ventilator with severe lung and probably heart damage from covid 👍

and ive got that other stuff going on like i mentioned at the beginning but that's way too much an on-going thing for me to have more thoughts than 'hnnng why can't i just kidnap friend' F lol

just venting and then felt it apt to ensure the tonal whiplash of my life hits as many people as possible because if you started reading that upset vent you gotta know what happened a few weeks later because buddy. ah.

anyway living and being alive is great, i have seen the face of death before and while it has left me a much wiser and more peaceful person in the aftermath (honestly i know it doesn't seem like it from my vent posts but that's because i have chronic can't shut up disease but at the end of it all i really only give a shit because i know that what happens to me can happen to others, if this had been something like 'yeah i got attacked by a rabid dog but it was euthanized and im getting treatment for it 's all good' you would've heard way less about it lol, it's because this is a kind of situation that ripples if that makes sense?) i really was laying there christmas night realizing the probability of me not waking up again (which is never 0) had increased by a worryingly large percentage and looking at death who was vibing on top of my chest and making it hard to breathe like '... i'm going to sleep and you better piss off while i'm in dreamland'

(not literally i mean this in a metaphorical sense)

at this rate i'm gonna have to start asking how the kids are lol

mfer's quiet tho like damn okay i'm not worth a reply i'll just go fuck myself then lol

(again, still being metaphorical here; it's one of those things where if you don't get it just let it go and if you get it you get it and also i'm so sorry do you want to talk /srs)

#this got longer than anticipated lol #feel better now tho so mission accomplished #maybe next time i can bring memes i have a few starting to bump around in my head like a window's screensaver

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thankskenpenders · 3 years

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Sorry for the bother in advance and feel free to disregard this Question if this isn't appropriate to ask, But i don't really know who else to ask this. How does one, well, interact with a Fandom? I've been like, following my Interests like Sonic, Mega Man, MLP etc for Years completely alone and just kind of... have no Idea how to find a Place or way to share that with People? and find People to talk about and / or enjoy such Things with?

Forums are a little old fashioned these days, but they aren't a bad place to start. Or Discord servers, if you find a friendly one. Or just look for people to follow and interact with through Tumblr's tag search

I dunno, I'm not really the best person to ask about this because I don't really engage with capital F Fandoms anymore for my own sanity. Fandoms can be a wonderful thing, but speaking from experience they can also be full of extremely toxic people, and tying your enjoyment of something to how well the fans behave themselves is often a recipe for disaster. You're gathering a bunch of people in one space based on a single shared interest, and those people aren't all gonna get along

These days I just have my mutuals and maybe a handful of fanartists and general content aggregator blogs for stuff I like, but I don't make any effort to engage with formal Fandoms, and I'm much happier this way. Like, I still love MLP to death, but do I have to give a shit about what drama some jackass on Equestria Daily or Derpibooru is starting? Do I have to engage with those people? No. Who cares. Not my problem. I'm off in my own little corner having a grand old time. I know this probably isn't the answer you wanna hear, but I have to be honest here

#fuccblog #ask

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

Late July

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Pairing: Agent Whiskey [Jack Daniels]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit explicit.

Summary: Upon hearing about you from Tequila, Jack Daniels seeks you out with a full set of emotional baggage to work through. You happily oblige, helping him craft a scene that just might grant him some peace of mind. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @cookiethewriter @culturalrebel @jackierey09 @crookedmoonsaultpunk @duker42 @agirllovespasta @nelba @pedrosbigdorkenergy @lestrange2703 @youmeanmybrain @luvley-shadow @theocatkov @miscellaneousjunkk @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @buttons-beads-lace @gooddaykate @lackofhonor

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains consensual non-consent (surrender play), light domination, roleplay, unprotected sex, frank discussion of safe words, usage of safe words, dirty talk and light bondage. Remember that fanfictions are not research and that you should never engage in any activity if you do not trust your partner. Stay safe!]

There was just something about you that put people at ease, and Ginger Ale noticed during the interview process. "You have a gift!" She had praised you, her smile unexpected and bright. "I can see why Tequila recommended you for this position."

Granted, being the 'head of first impressions' at a distillery that was actually a front for a secret intelligence agency had its ups and downs, but you enjoyed the work and (if you were honest) the exciting interactions with the Statesman agents.

Tequila, of course, would practically drape himself across your desk as he regaled you with (hopefully) exaggerated tales of his heroics. The two of you were sexually involved but preferred to keep each other at arm's length out of the bedroom, neither party particularly keen on surrendering your freedom and committing to anything serious at this point of your lives. You admired his dedication to Statesman, and he in turn respected your desire to have a successful career. He also was blatantly mooning over a certain analyst.

Ginger Ale was quieter and sharper than Tequila, her dry humor a joy to witness. She was the one who had done your interview, and she had given you the full behind the scenes tour once your background check went through. She was beautiful, charismatic and smart as a whip. You hoped to one day be as self-assured as she was.

Champ tended to keep to himself for the most part, though you had encountered him several times in the past when he dozed off in a certain chair at the end of a sunlit hallway. The elderly man was like an old tomcat, you decided, able to prowl but more than willing to take it easy.

Whiskey was often away managing the affairs of their New York headquarters and as such, was the one that you interacted with the least. He would come breezing in at all hours, a slow smile and a wink directed your way before he would saunter past. The rare occasions that he engaged you in conversation were nerve-wracking, as you were a little starstruck due to the glowing accounts both Champ and Tequila had given of his prowess in the past.

Ginger Ale was a bit more down to earth, thankfully. "He's just a man who's lost a lot, and his reasons for wanting to change things for the better may not be entirely altruistic." She had informed you concisely when you queried about the origin of one Jack Daniels. You had picked up on the veiled sadness in his dark eyes, the age that seemed to weigh him down that wasn't entirely related to years.

So when the aforementioned Statesman agent had drunkenly expressed a certain desire to you at a company party, you couldn't hide a little spike of curiosity. Mainly because the two of you interacted so rarely. Hell, you wouldn't even call yourselves friends. Tequila must have told him about your side activities.

"Ever since I lost her, I can't fuckin' bring myself to raw anyone else." The confession had come out of left field, but you had done your best to play it off like it was normal. Lord knew you had done enough paperwork in your career at Statesman to understand that agents would just kind of…say things thoughtlessly if they believed they were in a safe environment. A hazard of the job.

"What do you mean, Mr. Daniels?"

"Call me Jack. Jesus, I ain't that old." He had hiccupped sharply, grimacing. "I just mean I...it's like a mental block. I wanna', I'm excited about it, and everything's fine until I try to come and boom. Python shrivels up like a damn salted slug and I'm left holdin' the bag tryin' to explain myself." He stared into his glass, looking pensive. "Real mood killer."

"Any idea why this might be?" You had prompted, leaning against the bar and idly scanning the throngs of people around you. It wasn't every day that so many of the company's rank and file rubbed elbows with the higher-ups, but you had to assume these economic mixers were what had kept the company (and intelligence agency) on such an even keel. It was a grounding experience, a way to remind the suits of their humble beginnings.

He scoffed out a breath. "Oh I know exactly why. When I lost her, I...we had only learned a little while before that she was havin' a baby. We'd been havin' a rocky time and we were actually thinkin' of breakin' up, but that news…" Jack had tilted his head to glance your way, his brown eyes distant. "If I hadn't gotten her pregnant, she wouldn't have been out shoppin' that day, y'know?" A sad smile had quirked his mouth beneath his mustache. "My fault."

At the time, you had made a noise of sympathy and gone to lay a hand on his arm before you could think better of it. He, instead of shrugging off your touch, actually ended up twining his fingers through your own and giving your hand a light squeeze.

Agent Whiskey's past was a shadowy affair in the Statesman organization. Though to be fair, no one really asked anything about anyone. Ginger Ale reasoned that the less people knew, the safer they and Statesman were in the event of a security breach.

Anything you learned from any of the agents, you tended to keep close to your heart. It was your nature to gather useful information and foster trust for a rainy day. That personality facet had served you well as you had climbed the ranks from intern to head of first impressions, and knowing that you were someone that could be counted on to hold your cards close put many people at ease.

Including one Agent Whiskey.

"Tequila said you were good at helpin'. I'd be much obliged if you'd consider takin' a crack at my sexual baggage."

...

"Alright so for your words, you've decided on 'sixth' as your 'yes I'm into this', followed by second for 'slow down but don't break character', first for 'slow down and do break character' and finally neutral for 'full stop'." You tapped the customary notepad on your lap, glancing over at the man across the table. The two of you were currently sitting in the kitchen of the vacation cabin that your parents had willed to you, the modest dwelling often your staging ground for affairs like this. The warm wooden decor tended to make your partners feel more at ease and less vulnerable. Perceived safety was, after all, incredibly important when crafting scenarios.

Jack nodded. "Gears are easy for me to remember. Simple."

"Got it. And no kissing on the mouth. Can I kiss you in other places, or would you prefer I didn't at all?"

"Kissin's fine." Jack allowed. "Whatever you wanna' do is fine, just not on my mouth." You jotted that down. "Hey, I uh...I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate you agreein' to help. I dunno' if this will work, but…" Whiskey rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thanks. When Tequila mentioned your...extracurriculars, I figured he was jus' bein' outta' pocket again."

You grinned at that, giggling a little. "Does he get weird a lot?"

"I mean, he's uh...well, he's got his moments." Jack replied with a smile of his own.

"So," you hummed once you had checked your notes again, "after looking over all the information we've compiled, and the ideas you gave me an outline of, I'm thinking that you may want more of a 'surrender-play' kind of experience."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask how that's different from what I already suggested?"

"Look, you and I both know that I couldn't keep you from moving if you wanted to. Now, if we had a real working dynamic going on and I believed that you would listen and trust me implicitly so that you don't end up hurting yourself or me, then we might have something. But as we are right now, that's not gonna' happen." Whiskey inclined his head with a rueful chuckle, acknowledging the truth of your words. "So I propose that it's more of a scenario where all the agency is removed."

The agent leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "Explain."

"You need a scenario where you aren't in control and there's not even a chance of you being in control, taking any responsibility or guilt from the equation." You elaborated. "Basically, you would surrender your control so that you can indulge guilt-free. A lot of people do this coupled with a roleplay aspect in order to test new things that may be out of character for them."

"You coulda' jus' said you wanted to tie me up, sugar." Jack drawled. "I'll show you some good knots."

"You don't have any issues with being secured to...I guess a chair, probably? We'll keep you upright. If we sprawl you out on a bed that might be a little too vulnerable." You reasoned, waiting for his nod before you wrote it down. "I know it sounds contradictory, but I want you to be comfortable in what we do. Should I leave your clothes on?"

"If you can stand to, I'd appreciate it." The man answered with a cheeky wink. "Bein' naked and restrained is a little too close to the job description." He sighed after a moment, tipping the chair backwards as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Now I warn you, if I'm supposed to be an unwillin' party, I may display a little less Southern hospitality and a little more Southern history with my language, if you catch my drift."

You pursed your lips, squinting at him. "...is that your way of saying you might use a naughty word or two?"

You received a lazy finger-gun in reply, "bingo, cherry pie. You got any names you ain't a fan of bein' called?"

"Oh! I mean, I've heard just about everything in the book." You straightened up as a thought occurred to you, and then pointed back at him sternly. "No slurs."

"Ma'am," Jack sounded aghast, "I am not that breed of Southern gentleman. My lingo can verge on the spicy, but I sure as hell wouldn't stoop to that level."

You narrowed your eyes to drive your point home. "I really hope not." The agent inclined his head once more, putting a hand over his heart in a display of sincerity.

The front legs of the chair met the floor with a soft clatter, once again putting him on stable footing. "Now, I been wrackin' my brain tryin' to drum up a good premise like you asked, but I ain't exactly big in the screenwritin' department. I figure it could be kinda' like I'd been kidnapped? Drawin' a blank on why my kidnapper would be rawdoggin' me, maybe you can come up with somethin'?" He queried hopefully.

You furrowed your brow in thought, going silent as you carefully considered the hodgepodge of contributing factors. "Oh, I think I can manage."

...

This deck had been rigged from the start. In theory, you knew that he knew that. Still, he was certainly acting like it stung his pride a bit that he'd fallen into your 'trap' so cleanly.

Everything was going according to plan.

Whiskey struggled against the binds that secured him to the kitchen chair. His whip was safely confiscated. Lasso out of reach. Hat was still on his head. He had specifications, after all.

You left him to wriggle for almost half an hour while you got yourself ready. The man was a secret agent, after all. If he hadn't been restrained for much longer than that at any given point you would be very surprised.

You finally opened the bathroom door, sauntering out into the cabin's small kitchenette. "Miss me, love?" You crooned, committing to your role as villainous vamp stereotype number six. You had worn a plain set of underwear and an oversized white t-shirt, soft and see-through from the amount of times it had been washed. You got the feeling that if you went more elaborate, you might scare Whiskey off or make him too uncomfortable to really get into it. This scene was all about trust, and he hardly knew you. But he had sought you out for this. All you had to do was follow through.

"Was beginnin' to worry that you forgot about me, ma'am." The agent drawled back, his smile tightly sardonic and his low voice curling hot in your belly. "You fixin' to untie me yet?"

You clicked your tongue, the noise disappointed. "Whiskey, sweetheart, where's the fun in that? If I untie you, you'll just kill me."

"Can't blame a man for tryin'." Jack was absolutely in his element right now. He looked furious.

You ambled around behind him, slinging your arms around his neck and resting your weight on him briefly. "Remember," you murmured in his ear. "If you need me to slow down, or need to stop entirely, you say…?"

"Second, first and neutral." The agent replied readily. You patted his cheek.

"Good boy." You praised.

"Ain't my first rodeo." Whiskey's tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips and you wanted to reassure him, but you knew you had a job to do.

"Now, can I get you a light refreshment? Something to drink? Maybe some chips?" You offered, moving to the small refrigerator that you had stocked a little earlier in the day. Planning was imperative for engagements like this. "I have water, sweet tea, Coke…"

"Dammit woman, stop beatin' around the bush! Why the hell do you have me hogtied to this damn chair?!" Jack erupted.

"So rude." You chided him, removing a water for yourself and then leaning casually against the counter. "You really want to know, Mr. Whiskey?"

"Obviously." He scowled.

"Well be a patient boy and maybe I'll tell you." You hummed, not making eye contact as you unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "It was more than enough trouble for me to get you here in the first place, big shot. Don't rush me."

"Listen, I'll be the first to tell you that I probably ain't who you're lookin' for." He said bluntly. "I'm just a simple liquor tycoon, nothin' more."

"Mr. Whiskey, if you continue to insult my intelligence maybe I will decide I've got the wrong man. And then I'll just get rid of you." You swirled the water in the bottle, fixing him with a thoughtful look.

"You're talkin' a mighty big game, woman." Jack grumbled.

You sloshed some of the water on your thin white shirt as if by accident, and began daubing at the gauzy fabric aimlessly. "Whiskey-"

"It's Jack." He spat.

"Oh, we're on a first name basis? How exciting!" You teased him, laughing when he muttered angrily under his breath. He was clearly enjoying the role of 'belligerent definitely-not-a-spy'. "Alright then, Jack. I won't beat around the bush, as you so tactfully put it."

"Hallelujah, some goddamn cooperation." He replied in a sulky tone.

"So, Jack, I need you to come inside me. Strictly so I can bypass Statesman's biomechanical security systems. It's nothing personal, I just assumed you would be the easiest target, you know?" You remarked with a shrug. "The flirty cowboy with the filthy mouth." He stared at you and you raised an eyebrow, half-convinced that his reaction was legitimate. "What? You do have a reputation."

"I hate to break it to ya', but you got the wrong beverage. You're lookin' for Tequila, ma'am." Jack retorted, his voice a little raspy. "You want...what?"

"I need you to come inside me so I can use the your genetic signature to bypass the security." Granted, you were pretty certain that Statesman used exclusively fingerprints, retina scans and time locks, but Whiskey had told you to weave a good story for the setup, not necessarily an accurate one.

Jack swallowed hard. "You've got bats in your fuckin' belfry, woman. You expect me to-"

"Oh no, that's the beauty of this arrangement." You interrupted him, still smiling. "I don't expect you to do anything aside from sit there and stay still while I ride you."

"Jesus fuck woman, you--shit, isn't there some other way to do this? I ain't keen on the prospect, but if there's literally any other way…"

"Sorry. This is the only solution that my superiors could get behind." You sighed, feigning regret. "And we might be here a while, from what I've heard." Jack's eyes darted to yours and he flushed, working his jaw. "Don't look so glum! I'm one of the best in my field. I'm sure I'll be able to compensate for your...lack of investment."

"You touch me and I swear to God-"

"Ah ah, naughty boys get gagged." You threatened gently, walking your fingers up the side of his face to stroke them back down his jawline. Jack glared at you, his dark gaze fairly luminous with fury and maybe just a touch of poorly-veiled interest. "Be a good boy and I'll let you talk as much as you want. Maybe I'll even let you play with my tits, hmm?" You asked, cupping your breasts through your still-damp shirt. "Would you like that, love?"

"I…" Jack trailed off, then snapped his eyes back up from your chest. "No!"

You tapped his nose, winking. "Oh I think you would. Don't be so stubborn, Jack." You cocked your head to the side. "No one from Statesman even knows you're gone. No one is coming to rescue you." You informed him, all the playfulness evaporated from your voice. "You're mine now, Jack. My own personal key-card."

"You won't get away with this." Jack snarled.

"I think I already have." You knelt between his legs, running your hands over the jeans that covered his thighs. He squirmed, trying to dislodge you, but you just moved with him. You dug your nails into his thighs. "You keep wiggling and I'm going to have to tighten the ropes, Jack. Is that what you want?"

"Oh you filthy fuckin' woman, you absolute bitch, let me go!"

"Hmm," you tapped your chin as he kept jerking and straining against the knots. "No."

Jack froze when your fingers unbuttoned the button at the top of his fly. "Now wait, wait just a damn minute, y-you can't--" he tried to plead.

"Oh I can. And I will." You looked up at him. "As long as we're in the right gear?"

"Sixth, sixth." He affirmed, flashing you a quick smile. You nodded and seamlessly resumed your play.

The zipper of his fly opened devastatingly slow, the agent exhaling raggedly when you pulled up his shirt and palmed his groin gently through the fabric of his boxer briefs. His cock was already half-hard, and you pointed that out with a mean little smirk on your face. "Oh no, looks like someone's interested." You crooned, rubbing your index finger over the head of his still-clothed dick.

"Fuck off, you...y-you-" he swore, rolling his shoulders as if he was testing his bonds. "You little bitch."

"Temper temper." You chided, ducking your head down to mouth over the fabric of his boxers. Jack gasped out another swear over your head, his hips twitching up to meet you before he slammed them back down. "Methinks someone doth protest too much." You snorted, splaying your fingers on the newly-revealed skin of his stomach. "We could make this so much simpler if you would just give in, Jack." You didn't miss the way his skin jumped at your touch, and you smiled against his boxers.

"You'll--you'll have to do better than that." Whiskey breathed. "You think just any ol' woman can get me up?"

You stood, leaning in close and pressing your mouth to his ear. His whole body flinched when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gave him a nice, slow stroke. "Oh, poor thing. You must believe you're really special, hmm? God's gift to mankind every time you take someone to bed." You mocked, your teeth and tongue laving over his earlobe. "We're all so lucky to have you, Jack."

"Hhn-" Jack's shoulders went stiff, the man obviously biting his tongue.

"You don't have a choice, sweetheart. I'm going to get you hard. Then, I'm going to use your cock. And all you have to do, my lovely, handsome cowboy, is come inside me." You informed him, drawing a finger beneath his chin. "More than once, preferably."

"I'm not usually a man to voice my own shortcomin's, but I must warn you that this will be a futile-" Whiskey's words hitched in his throat when you stroked him again. "Fuck, no, don't touch me like that, you--"

"Stop playing hard to get, Jack." You murmured, slinking your free hand up the back of his neck to massage his scalp right beneath the band of his hat. "Give up."

"Never." He hissed even as his head lolled forward, granting you more access to rub his neck.

"Pity." You settled back down between his legs and wrapped your lips around his cock.

"No, no, dammit-" Whiskey growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Don't you fuckin'...no, no, don't use your tongue the-ah f-uck--" His protest died in a pitiful groan when his cock met the back of your throat. "Oh, you--fuckin'--you've got to be shittin' me woman, the whole-?" He grunted out haphazardly as you relaxed your throat and took him all the way down to the base. "You think y-you can take advantage of me jus' cuz' it's been a while since I got laid? Fuck you."

You hummed around his cock, wanting to giggle when he twitched and swore loudly. Your fingers dove past the hem of your underwear, and you moaned against him as you ran your index in slow, steady circles around your clit.

"I ain't fuckin' you, and I sure as shit am not gonna' come in your pussy." Jack snarled.

"Oh yes you are." You sang, rising to your feet and slipping your panties off. The white t-shirt came next, baring your breasts to the air-conditioned environment.

Jack seemed to forget that he was supposed to be vehemently against this yet again as he just...watched while you teased your nipples. You tugged at the taut peaks, rolling them between your fingers and making a show out of the whole bit.

"I can't wait to have you inside me, filling me up, just pumping me full of your come." You said with a smile, sauntering over until you would be in reach if his hands were free. Jack's tongue made a nervous reappearance and you tugged his chin upwards so you could see his eyes. "Are we still in gear? Or do we need to shift?" You asked. He seemed slightly dazed.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, s-sixth." He stammered. "Sixth, holy shit."

"Mm. Don't disappoint me and maybe I'll let you live." You remarked smoothly, swinging one leg over his lap and straddling him. Jack's shoulders were rigid again and you kneaded at them surreptitiously, trying your best to keep him in the scene and out of his own head.

You were well on your way to soaking wet with arousal. There was nothing better than when you had a partner that trusted you, regardless of whether you had truly earned that trust. Just the fact that they had blind faith in you to execute the endeavor that they needed...it was heady and sweet and you loved every second.

You rutted your pussy against the underside of Jack's cock, the man snapping his teeth at the sensation. "Too good?" You taunted, laughing when he swore again.

"I can't believe that you think I'm fuckin' enjoyin' th--look, any dick perks up at heavy pet-"

Cutting Whiskey off mid-sentence was quickly becoming a favorite pastime, you realized as you angled your hips and let the head of his cock push past your pussy lips. "In, just a little, give you a taste, sweetheart…" you sighed, rocking your hips forward and back but not allowing him to sink any deeper into you. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" You cajoled as he shuddered beneath you. "Just keep being good, my sweet cowboy, and this will all be over so much sooner."

"No, no-" He struggled to move, to do anything, but you had made certain to tie him exactly as he had specified. "Dammit, when I get free of here, I'll--"

"Shh, you think too much." You tapped your index finger to his lips, smoothing it over the bristle of his mustache. "Focus on your job right now, and everything will be fine."

Jack turned his face away, inadvertently presenting the thick column of his neck to you. And you, channeling your inner villain, leaped at the opportunity to lick and bite at the bared skin. He made a strange noise, a combination of a moan and a whine that had you raising an eyebrow.

"Is someone a little sensitive there?"

"No, I am not." He answered through gritted teeth. "I hate that you're touchin' me, that's all!"

"Hmm, it doesn't sound like you hate it." You mused, suckling gently at the spot where his jaw met his throat. You were very careful not to leave marks, as that had been another specification. Whiskey struggled underneath you again, only succeeding in pumping his cock up into you slightly.

"Don't, don't--" His voice actually cracked and you smiled, nuzzling your nose beneath his jawline and letting his dick settle deeper.

"Oh no, it seems like you do want to fuck me after all." You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back and stroking over the base of his cock with two fingers. "Warming up to the idea of being my little fuck toy, Jack?" You teased, noting the way his knuckles whitened from his grip on the rope and his Adam's apple bobbed with the force of his convulsive swallow at your words. "I could just keep you here like this forever, you know. All tied up, helpless for me…" You squeezed the base of his cock and he gasped, trying to stifle the noise. "Soon, I'd have you trained so that you couldn't come from any other pussy aside from mine. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Without waiting for an answer, you let the last few inches of his dick enter you. You leaned back on his thighs, feeling the muscles coil and strain beneath your touch as you reached down and grazed your clit. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, those brown eyes fixated on the motions of your fingers even as his cock split you open. You were grateful that he was secured, you weren't sure if you would have been able to take him otherwise. His cock curved thickly against your back wall, the engorged head throbbing back and forth over the area that made your whole body shudder in delight.

Whiskey's jaw was taut, his shoulders set in a rigid line that made you ache to get him to come undone in you.

"You're so quiet." You pouted, raising your hand and brushing your wet index finger over his slack lower lip. "Aren't you having a good time?"

His chest abruptly expanded, like he had forgotten to breathe for a moment or two. "Fuck you." Whiskey seethed, making you chuckle softly. "I ain't nobody's goddamn fuck toy."

"Sweetheart," you chided as you sat up. "That's not a very nice thing to say to the person warming your cock right now." You deliberately clenched down on him and Jack swore under his breath, shaking his head. "I can make you feel so good, Whiskey, if you just give me what I want." You insisted, cupping his face and pulling halfway off of his cock.

"N-N...No." He replied weakly.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking out your shoulders. "Well, I tried." Your hands landed on his shoulders and you gripped down to steady yourself, your hips meeting his own with a wet slap! of skin. Jack's chest heaved, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you began to ride him roughly. "All I wanted was for you to come in me. I don't feel like that's asking for much!" You complained petulantly, rolling your hips against his when he was hilted in you with an agonizingly slow grind of your body.

Jack bit out a low "fuck," those tense shoulders trembling under your touch. You tucked your face into his neck to tease the sensitive area even more, your tongue tracing random patterns that made him squirm and writhe underneath you. "I don't--can't, can't, don't make me--" he tried to protest, his words fractured and pitiful.

"Yes you can, and you're going to." You snapped, taking a handful of hair at the nape of his neck so you could urge his head back further, leaving his throat at your mercy. "You're coming in me, Jack! Give up!"

...

"First!" He choked out, and you immediately slowed to a crawl. Your touch on him gentled significantly, no longer demanding but cradling, caressing.

"Easy, easy." You soothed, the unrelenting assault of your perfect hips gone to a slow and careful rhythm, back and forth like a porch swing in the summer heat. Your eyes searched his own, concern shining through.

Jack was speechless, his blind panic melting away at the sound of your regular voice. What the hell just happened? He licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they had gotten. "Sorry, I uh-"

"No apologies." You murmured. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Would you like to stop now?"

Whiskey took a long moment, running a mental check on his body. Nothing was sore, nothing seemed out of line. Everything was raring to go.

Everything aside from his brain, that is. The damn thing wouldn't stop conjuring up scenes of you pregnant and everything going to absolute fucking shit. It didn't matter that he had zero attachment to you, it didn't matter that you were on birth control. This was how it always was.

Every damn time things got serious with a new interest, "oh, let's start a family," Whiskey just wanted to curl up into a ball. Without fail, like clockwork, he would shut down.

And then the accusations would start, the distrust, "How come you can do it with protection but not without?" and it was disheartening, crushing to go through again and again. Explaining didn't seem to do a lick of good, it was always just that he was stringing people along, that he was a damn selfish prick, that he didn't care about what his partner wanted.

That couldn't be further from the truth, of course, but maybe that was his own fault for not dropping the bomb before getting attached to someone. He just couldn't ever seem to justify asking a person on their second or third date, "hey so what's your thoughts on having kids?" It felt manipulative, cheap, and if he was being honest, he knew for a fact that sometimes just the idea of having children was enough to scare a potential interest off.

You were the first person to try and help Jack really wrap his head around this whole issue. And yeah, that was the whole point in sussing you out, but…

Tequila didn't tell him that you actually gave a shit, or at least you were damn good at acting like you did. Whiskey bit his lip. "I'm okay." He said finally, trying for a smile.

"Anything chafing? Do you need some water?"

"I…" Jack trailed off. "Huh, I admit I am a bit parched. But that means you'd have to get up." He realized unhappily.

"Were you enjoying yourself?" You asked, sounding curious.

Whiskey got the hysterical idea in his head of you pulling out some sort of satisfaction survey at the end of your engagement, the notion making him smirk slightly. "God, yeah. I...yeah." He flushed a little bit. "Dunno' if I ever got this far after…after all my mental hangups and stuff. The fact that I don't have a say in the matter seems to be helpin', though."

"Okay, don't go anywhere. I'll get you some water." You patted his thigh, cautiously settling your feet on the floor and then going to stand with a quivery little gasp that absolutely stroked his ego.

Jack couldn't help his own groan at the loss of your heat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Damn it woman, has anyone ever told you that your pussy is fuckin' perfect?" He muttered, his usual honeyed words suddenly clumsy in his mouth. "I mean, hell."

You laughed, bending over to dig in the small fridge for another water. Whiskey felt his entire body throb at the sight of you presenting yourself to him like that, and he sucked in a breath at your obvious teasing. Even in the soft light of the kitchen, he could see the glisten of the wetness between your legs. Hell yes, he found himself thinking stupidly as you turned back around.

"I'm just glad that you're doing alright. That's the most important part to me, after all." You assured him, unscrewing the cap on the water and tipping it to his lips.

Jack gulped greedily, feeling a few droplets escape his mouth and run down his neck to blot his collar. "I am. One hundred percent." He said firmly after he had slaked his thirst. "Let's keep goin'."

"If you're sure, absolutely." You acquiesced, smiling again. Placing the water bottle on the kitchen table, you then swung your leg over his thighs like you were vaulting back into the saddle. Jack held his breath, waiting for you to welcome his cock back into your body. And God he was so hard, he couldn't remember ever being this hard, what the hell--

But strangely, you didn't immediately resume from where you had left off. Instead, you put your arms around his neck and actually rested your forehead against his own, bumping his hat upwards.

Jack swallowed roughly, confused.

"Let me take this from you." You whispered. Whiskey felt pinned by your stare, he felt as if you could see every terrible thing he had ever done, every transgression laid bare under the weight of your gaze. "Let go of it. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you."

The words washed over him, soft and sweet. Your fingers slipped up into the hair at the nape of his neck to toy with the mussed ends that lurked there. The whole exchange was oddly intimate and Jack found himself at a loss yet again, simply grating out, "sixth," when he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

You reached down and stroked his cock, rubbing the head of it against your clit. And Jesus he could feel you, the difference in heat, the slick--

"Are you gonna' take it from me, sweet girl?" He hissed through his teeth like it wounded him to ask, trying desperately to cling to the illusion that he wasn't willing. "Take everythin' I've got?"

The blur between reality and this playdate was getting messier by the second. He wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself in you, spend every last drop inside the hot embrace of your quivering cunt. He wanted that. Jesus Christ, this wasn't part of the bargain.

This was a pantomime, specially designed pornography that existed only to coax a very specific reaction from his confused body. So why did he wish he had met you years ago? Why was he suddenly hoping and praying that the sounds you were making were legitimate instead of exclusively for his benefit, hoping that you were also enjoying this?

You angled your hips and sank back down on his lap, your hands going to your breasts where you proceeded to fondle and tease them until your nipples looked like they ached.

Whiskey fucking ached himself to wrap his lips around one pert little peak, swirl his tongue across the tip and make you come undone, rut his dick up into you until you cried out his name and soaked him--

Whoa cowboy, he chastised himself, a little startled by how sharp the longing was. You just kept fucking yourself on his cock, that hot, wet little pussy molded perfectly to every ridge of his member and he had never been this hard, this ready in his life. Despite the air conditioning in the cabin, your skin shone with sweat from all the work you were putting in and Whiskey couldn't recall a time where he had been more appreciative of someone else accomplishing a task within his field of vision.

Your hand slipped down, down, and Jack found himself following the trajectory until it delved between your legs and you started playing with yourself. "Jack," you crooned his name and it was like a prayer, reverent and soft, tender enough to coil itself around his lungs and choke him to death without a whisper of protest. You parted your legs even wider in his lap, exposing yourself to him so he could watch his cock slide in and out of you, so he could see himself fucking you open.

"Are you gonna' come for me, sweet girl?" He gasped, craning his neck and managing to tilt his head so he could mutter into your ear, "you just gonna' wrench one out for me, beautiful?"

"Mm, no, I'm not coming until after you come." You whimpered, still moving your hand. "But I'm so close, Jack. I want to come."

Your plaintive whine had him ablaze. God, he had never wanted to please someone so damn badly in his life. "I know you do, sweet girl." He murmured huskily, exhaling hot over the shell of your ear and loving the way you quivered in his lap. "You're so good, lettin' me blow my load before you get off--gonna' pump me dry when you come, aren't you? Just keep me inside you until that little pussy is all fucked out," he growled, barely aware of the words that tumbled from his mouth.

All he knew is that you were all a-tremble at his voice, your body as hot as late July against his chest, your eyes heavy with adoration that he did not deserve and God, he couldn't get used to that look even if it was fake. What if you stayed? he wondered absently. What if you stayed?

Oh fuck, he was about to come. Panic jabbed like the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades and Whiskey went silent, his teeth bearing down on his lower lip and his eyes slamming shut as he focused harder than he ever had in his life.

The smell of you, the sounds, the heat, the little spasms of your cunt around his cock…

Yes. Yes, God yes, he could do this--

"Come in me, sweetheart." Begging him, pleading, demanding, "Jack-!" You cried his name.

Whiskey groaned hoarsely, so low it was almost painful, and let go. He bucked his hips up against you as best as he could, minute little thrusts while he came harder than he had in years. "Oh," he snarled, gritting his teeth, "fuckin' Christ woman, I think you've ruined me, Jesus fuck."

Your hands threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck again and you held him, not tightly, but just enough to keep him steady, anchored. "There," you said abruptly, the snide, put-upon tone of your role contrasting wildly with the gentleness of your touch, "was that so difficult?"

Jack burst out laughing, not overly concerned with how strange of a reaction that was. Hell, was he relieved? "Jesus fuckin' Christ, you're great." He remarked breathlessly. "I don't even know what just happened."

"Oh?" You replied, raising an eyebrow. "The mess between my legs seems to allude to you possibly having an orgasm. Jury's still out though."

He grimaced apologetically, glancing down. "Sorry darlin'. It's been a while, y'know?" You rose up off of him again and he grunted as his cock slipped free from your body. Whiskey felt half-drunk, relief and release combining into a potent cocktail that left him boneless in the chair.

You quickly put your shirt back on and then crouched at his feet, beginning the arduous process of untying him. Jack just sat there, watching you drowsily. He couldn't do much else, really. "Any numbness or chafing?" You asked quietly, stirring him momentarily from his daze.

"Nah, nothin' yet." He replied, straightening his freed left leg and rotating his ankle in his boot. "A little stiff, but I've survived worse than that."

"And how do you feel?" You questioned, "physically and emotionally."

Jack gnawed at his lower lip, trying to force his sluggish brain past the haze of serotonin in order to give you a satisfactory answer. "...good." He said finally, scrambling to elaborate, "or uh, better, I guess. More okay than I've been in a fuckin' while." It wasn't a lie, he was surprised to discover. He hadn't actually put much stock into this endeavor, figuring it would be a fun little diversion that would end just like every other time. Of course, it didn't hurt that you were easy on the eyes, prettier than a peach if he was being honest with himself.

Your smile was bright and Jack's stomach knotted confusingly. "I'm glad."

His right leg was released and he shifted his weight in the seat, groaning happily when his hip popped. "Hey, wait." The agent belatedly realized, "you didn't-?"

"We were here for you." You reminded him. "Not me."

"Whoa now, that don't seem fair at all!" Whiskey protested, taken aback by your nonchalance. "You just put in all the work!"

Your laugh tripped down his spine like an aftershock. "Don't get bent out of shape! It's standard policy, Mr. Whiskey. Once the desired result of the scene has been acquired, the scene ends and I start with aftercare."

"B-But--you didn't get to get off though!"

"Me 'getting off' wasn't specified in our planning."

"I needed to specify that shit?! I figured you'd just kinda'..." His right arm was free now and Jack seized the opportunity to make a certain gesture, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, I was at your mercy!" He continued, bewildered. "You totally coulda' just kept goin'-"

"Yes, and that's exactly why when the desired result has been achieved, the scene ends." You interjected firmly. "Because you trusted me enough to let me take control, and I'm not about to break that trust by doing something selfish on a whim."

Jack exhaled hard, scooting his hat a little further back on his head so he could study you. You didn't look disappointed, or annoyed with him. He wondered how many times you had fielded ignorant questions like his own and he cringed at himself. "I'm...shit, I'm sorry. I don't have any right to be all shitty about it." He apologized as you moved out of his field of view to untie the rope securing him to the back of the chair. "I just feel like you worked so hard an' got nothin' out of your end of the bargain."

"It's sweet of you to be concerned about that, but don't take it personally, okay?" You assured him, "I do this because I enjoy it. The whole experience, not just the finale." The ropes around his chest sagged and Jack slid forward a bit in the seat, relaxing.

"Can I get that water again? Christ, I need a cigarette and a tumbler of the strong stuff after all that." He joked, clumsily tucking his cock back into his boxers. You pressed the bottle to his hands and he nearly dropped it, chuckling self-consciously. "Whups, sorry. I had my fists all bunched up so my fingers are stiff." Jack proceeded to down the rest of the bottle, wiping his mouth and mustache with the back of his hand after the fact. "So...what exactly is it you do for Tequila?" He queried nosily.

You laughed at him and God, God he loved the sound of your laugh. "That, Mr. Whiskey, is on a need-to-know basis. Just like this little soiree between the two of us." You chided, your eyes bright with good humor. "I would never violate a partner's trust in me."

Jack tipped the bottle in your direction, as if making a toast. "I'll drink to that, partner. What's next on the menu?"

"We'll talk out the scene and wind back down. Get cleaned up. I'll probably…" you paused, squinting at the clock over the sink. "You want some pizza? There's a joint not far from here that serves pies and chicken wings until midnight."

Jack groaned appreciatively, "I knew you were my kinda' gal. Lead the way to the debrief, ma'am."

It didn't really matter in the long run, he supposed. You obviously weren't interested in anything serious (if only because he figured that your flings with the stereotypical 'bad boy' Tequila would have become more regular in spite of the younger man's painful crush on Ginger Ale), and he could respect that. Still though, he couldn't help feeling a touch morose over the possibility of never engaging with you again.

He toyed with the idea of asking you for another 'appointment', but dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it arrived. Better to quit while he was ahead.

Or rather, he amended ruefully as he settled down across from you in the diner booth, his hair still damp and curling slightly beneath his hat from the quick wash he had indulged in at your cabin, better to quit now before I make even more of a fool of myself.

Part Two

#jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #kingsman: the golden circle #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character #agent whiskey imagine #consensual noncon #whew where did this come from #enjoy!#working things out

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mallowstep · 3 years

Note

(I came up with this au while in debate class so I'm calling it the Debate AU if you don't mind)

Tigerstar absolutely misread everything about Riverclan and fucked up so bad by keeping Stonefur, Mistyfoot Featherpaw, and Stormpaw alive and well and healthy but basically doing everything to Leopardstar that he does to Mistyfoot and Feathertail and Leopardstar in the Misty and Leopard AUs that Stone pulls a Scourge in front of all the clans and everyone looks at Stonefur in terror but Stonefur only has eyes for Leopardstar, who is leaning heavily on Mistyfoot. (Like Leopard is beat down, she's loosing hair, and she has deeply infected scratches on her shoulders.Stone and Misty fucking Hate Tigerstar for what he's done to this cat they've known all their lives.) Stonefur kicks Shadowclan the fuck out of Riverclan territory, Mistyfoot doesn't let Mudfur near Leopardstar (neither does Featherpaw, for that matter. She wasn't abused and she's healthy, but she was traumatized in-Tigerstar had her watch Mudfur abuse Leopardstar and Tigerstar himself told Featherpaw Greystripe thought the same things about her.) Featherpaw won't let any warriors in Leopardstar's den unless she's in there with Leopardstar ---so Featherpaw can protect Leopardstar. The silver furred apprentice curls around her leader, "I'm right here, Leopardstar. Stonefur and Mistyfoot are talking to the other clans and then they'll be back. Stonefur said he'd bring back your favorite." Featherpaw added, purring as she groomed Leopardstar's head. "Stormpaw said he went and got the best trinket for your new den though, and he thinks it's going to be your choice over uncle Stonefur's."

damn anon. thank you. hold on i'm going to engage.

also fair like. i'm. i'm out of the haze and not good at keeping track of au tags so. the only ones i'm really tagging for are the ones i'm like. still thinking about. stone au atm. just didn't want like. u to be. think it was a thing. i'm just tired 100% of the time. anyway.

cw: sexual assault, physical abuse, a few more detailed cws immediately under the cut

cws: parent being involved in sexual assault of child, child sexual abuse (via exposure)

cool. sometimes it's like. i dunno. anyway. sorry i said i'm tired but also very into this.

anyway /nm but also reminder to everyone that i have adhd and would prefer if you included paragraph breaks. obviously i just copy it into a document and add my own but. i appreciate when you save me the step. like i get it y'all've seen me ramble at Length in one paragraph before i just. appreciate it.

okay back on topic.

i'm going to sidestep riverclan related concerns for the sake of "angst good," lmao. riverclan related concerns being if i wasn't tired i could easily come up with a justification i'm just tired and lazy.

but like yeah like. uh. dammit i'm already opening up tpb books left and right. let me just.

"But common sense says there’ll be a battle, Firestar. I don’t need an omen from StarClan to tell me that."

oh my god can cinderpelt like. go and talk to all of the modern medicine cats so that they stop flipping out because starclan isn't answering their texts or whatever.

Remembering the wounded and devastated cats in the WindClan camp the day before, he had expected only a small group to come to Fourtrees. Instead practically every warrior must have been there.

i mean windclan has like five warriors but-

Firestar waved his tail to signal to the two united Clans—LionClan, he thought with a rush of pride. This was his destiny.

this is mostly for jace (assuming u see this) bc it's the whole "importance of lionclan existing" thing i was referring to. didn't bother to pull quotes on my dotc rant, but here u go.

so. point of canon divergence* is:

“Greetings, Tigerstar,” he meowed coolly. “You came, then. Not still looking for those prisoners you lost from RiverClan territory?” Tigerstar let out a snarl. “You’ll regret that day’s work, Firestar.” “Try and make me,” Firestar retorted.

* from firestar's pov

bc obviously that didn't happen.

no, what happens is firestar sees -- blackfoot and darkstripe and.

leopardstar.

firestar harbours no affection for riverclan's leader. but. even from a distance, he can see her ribs. he'd be surprised she was standing on her own, if he wasn't processing everything else going on.

he doesn't see this part.

Mistyfoot's tail flicks to Stonefur's shoulder, and he nods. They've only exchanged a few words, only had a brief moment, but they're ready.

Stonefur glances back. Featherpaw and Stormpaw are out of the way. He hopes, if this goes wrong, they have the sense to run. If they had the chance, he would have told them to skirt the edge of TigerClan and try to make it as deep into ThunderClan's territory as they could.

He hopes they have the sense to figure that out for themselves.

Firestar is exposing Tigerstar's plans. RiverClan doesn't react. There's not much they'd be surprised by, Stonefur muses. If Firestar told them Tigerstar killed his own kit, he doesn't think he'd be shocked.

Mistyfoot slips towards the front of the crowd. Leopardstar doesn't know, of course. Stonefur has barely had the chance to say two words to her in the past moon. He slinks around to the space between the Clans.

Firestar finishes his speech. No one says anything. Firestar looks takenaback. He glances towards Leopardstar; Stonefur does too. Mistyfoot is watching him, but she's looking at the ground.

A part of Stonefur wants to say, "That's not all." Because, as he starts to run, preparing to leap at Tigerstar, he wants them to know why. He wants them to know what Tigerstar has done. He wants them to revel in Tigerstar's death.

But he doesn't.

Tigerstar sees him, of course. Stonefur isn't trying to be subtle.

"You," Tigerstar growls.

Say it, Stonefur thinks. Tell them what you've done.

But Tigerstar doesn't.

The actual fight is a blur. He doesn't think he is himself again, until Tigerstar's corpse twitches and stills, and he looks towards Leopardstar. Mistyfoot has inserted herself between Leopardstar and Blackfoot, and Stonefur nods minutely.

It's over now.

the clans, of course, are...shocked. riverclan has no complaints, and while...everyone (more or less) is happy tigerstar is dead, but...for thunderclan and windclan, stonefur just murdered him without direct provocation. and the fact that he killed him nine times? direct violation of a warrior doesn't need to kill.

like. if they Knew, they would think stonefur just. but they don't know.

and riverclan doesn't want to explain and shadowclan doesn't want to explain and no i'm not at this moment figuring out what happens wrt bloodclan and so forth. i just wanted to set that scene.

yeah. no idea what happens next in a lot of places here. but.

everyone goes home.

("Your territory," Stonefur growls.

"Obviously," Blackfoot says.)

mistyfoot takes leopardstar to her den. stonefur tells stormpaw to run to thunderclan and ask for their medicine cat. tells him to say it's urgent and he can't explain here. tells him that if they want to send her with a warrior or two, don't argue. just get her here.

featherpaw stations herself outside leopardstar's den.

stonefur feels like he should say something. he's still covered in tigerstar's blood.

"we're taking this down," he says, "now."

they dismantle the bonehill.

once the process has been started, stonefur lets the rest of the warriors finish, and grooms himself and washes in the river until he's satisfied every trace of blood has been taken care of.

he's about to see her when stormpaw arrives with cinderpelt and...hm. sandstorm.

(cinderpelt was there. she saw leopardstar. she can start to put pieces together.)

stonefur greets them, and featherpaw goes to tell mistyfoot and leopardstar, and the adrenaline is fading, his limbs starting to tremble. when's the last time he got any real sleep?

"Stormpaw said you needed a medicine cat," Cinderpelt says.

"We do."

"Did something happen to Mudfur?"

"He can't do this." Stonefur's tail flicks. "We need someone to look at Leopardstar -- you can use our herbs, of course, whatever you need."

Cinderpelt blinks. She's a young cat, Stonefur thinks, too young to be looking at him like she understands. Maybe it's part of being a medicine cat.

"Right then. Does Leopardstar know I'm coming?"

"Featherpaw is telling her."

and stonefur isn't going to follow cinderpelt into leopardstar's den.

for one, it's crowded enough, and he'd probably just get kicked out. for another, he doesn't know what leopardstar and cinderpelt will talk about, but -- he doesn't want to force himself into it.

cinderpelt stays for a while. sandstorm runs proxy, taking some herbs to her, but then she stays with cinderpelt. stonefur has probably been up for over a day when cinderpelt and sandstorm nod.

"take some prey before you leave," he says. "riverclan won't forget this."

"i went over some things with mistyfoot," cinderpelt says. "always good to have some basic herb knowledge."

cats don't have a direct analogue for kissing, but stonefur could kiss cinderpelt for having the grace to say that without letting on why. it's not like riverclan doesn't know. everyone knows.

but.

it's still appreciated.

As the sun rises, Stonefur stands, facing into Leopardstar's den.

"Can I come in?"

Her eyes are watching him. Even they have been changed: no longer the brilliant gold he remembers, but something brassy and dull.

"Of course."

Featherpaw slips past him, taking his place as sentry. She needs to sleep, Stonefur thinks, but it might be best to wait until she's too exhausted to keep her eyes open. He's not above carrying her back to her den like a kit.

Leopardstar starts to stand.

"Don't," Stonefur says. "It's alright."

He hates that seeing her like this is not foreign to him.

Mistyfoot curls up, her eyes closed, a compromise. Stonefur sinks to the ground. "Can I -- do anything?"

Leopardstar looks at the empty space in her nest. "Would you stay with me?"

"Of course." (Anything.)

yeah. uh. i think like. i dunno. it's not like tigerstar ever showed leopardstar a single ounce of kindness. so. uh. am i using that as an excuse to sidestep angst? no. no i am not. well. not entirely. but Damn leopardstar needs a hug.

that she can initiate and control.

but still. she's desperately deprived of positive human contact and as someone who cried once because someone put their hand on my shoulder and i hadn't touched another human being in like six months. i think she needs it.

ohh boy yeah. i think y'all know me well enough to know where i'd go with that angle.

so let me turn my attention to featherpaw. i started answering this ask like an hour ago. anon i love you.

featherpaw has. uh. she's got a Lot of problems. as you can probably understand.

i'd say let's start at the top, but i'm not sure where that is, so let's start with her relationship to stormpaw, because i think that should get fucked up. i think...you know how stormpaw says, "i won't let him kill us"? and. yeah.

but there's never One Moment here and stormpaw realizes way too late and featherpaw feels like...you know like. everyone who is supposed to help her is failing her. she can't really blame leopardstar, and mistyfoot clearly feels bad, and stonefur like. idk what he was doing but she's solidly neutral on him.

could tigerstar try to fuck all of that up? of course he could. do i want to write featherpaw and stonefur arguing about leopardstar? i've already written a lot of something blindingly similar, so not at the moment.

anyway. the relationship i will freely fuck with is stormpaw. i think not because of anything specific, i think tigerstar just gets in her head and she looks like her mother (something tigerstar brings up) and stormpaw takes after their father and he keeps acting like everything is normal and.

at the end of the day, there's this gulf between them that he keeps stepping into.

so yeah. not to mention greystripe. like. fuck.

"Featherpaw!" Greystripe waves his tail at his daughter, and she flinches.

oh hey i hit the grammar cut off again. let me. i learned how to do this okay i'm going to insert some kind of dummy image or something to reset the counter.

there it's a link to my tumblr but i've got grammar checking again xd

moving on.

featherpaw doesn't want to talk to greystripe. it's not Strictly that she thinks what tigerstar said was true (although she's not sure it isn't), but that. just looking at him sets off a loop in her head.

uh. does anyone explain this to greystripe? no. because the cats who could are:

leopardstar (doesn't want to talk about it)

mudfur (doesn't want to talk about it)

mistyfoot (but only by inference, and doesn't consider explaining things to greystripe a priority)

featherpaw (doesn't want to talk about it and doesn't want to talk to greystripe)

so yeah. no. he's in the Dark.

one of the first priorities is building leopardstar a new den. and decorating it. that's part of building a den i just wanted to clarify and.

featherpaw takes it seriously. because. you know. beauty begets beauty.

she doesn't want...stormpaw is ready to jump straight into sharing a den with old apprentice friend dawnpaw. maybe they never stopped.

but featherpaw? doesn't feel safe there. (doesn't feel safe anywhere.)

especially as she's getting older and tigerstar certainly implied and-

she's not sleeping very well.

mistyfoot and stonefur are trying to help her but they're not therapists! they don't know what to do! featherpaw clearly is dealing with shit but how do they help her??? they have no idea!!! how would they?

in a very strange inverse of canon, leopardstar and featherpaw develop a close relationship. leopardstar feels like she failed to protect featherpaw. featherpaw just. doesn't know. she doesn't know what she feels or thinks or knows and like: leopardstar doesn't. she doesn't need to explain herself to leopardstar.

she's in a big sister role to the kits, i think.

uh. yeah. featherpaw. she is not taking any of this well.

sooner or later greystripe corners her (because he doesn't know) and she's having a panic attack and leopardstar is like "you are never allowed to talk to her ever again" and greystripe is like "what the fuck did i do" and someone (mistyfoot?) finally explains.

uh. what else.

stonefur + leopardstar + featherpaw cuddle pile? leopardstar is in the centre. she feels kind of weird about that because she can tell featherpaw is like. going through this whole. uh. whats the. fuck.

like. featherpaw feels like she needs to protect her and leopardstar doesn't really want to encourage that but on the otherhand it's kind of nice that featherpaw is right here because tigerstar 100% used to threaten her to leopardstar and-

yeah.

uh.

i started writing two hours ago so i'm just going to post.

#ask #anon #mine #i approve of this au so much #clearly #had a lot of thoughts #debate au

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|9

chapter 9: the polaroid

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: tim, tom and the broken ankle

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, angst, smut (skip the * if you don’t want to read it), car sex, marriage mention

word count: 7.7k

here’s a playlist

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) : tweets, Instagram and a text

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist

wanna be tagged?

Hi, to make up for not posting yesterday, have a longer chapter.Tell me what you think. Stay safe.

When seeing a story there’s always a before and after the story. If it doesn’t matter, then it shouldn’t be said.

Problem is, it mattered to y/n, and Tom. Who were each dealing with a problem that technically shouldn’t matter to them but it did. It really did. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be talking about it.

Tim had been kind enough to drive her to her building, but she had kept on talking, cueing Tim to follow after her, and when she hadn’t used the lift, Tim knew something was up. Because when y/n took the stairs, it meant she really didn’t want to go home yet. It’s something he had caught during their relationship. Sure, Tim may have not known her since children like the Hollands, but Tim had been the one to actually observe her. He had learned because he wanted to, not because he had lived with it.

And he knew y/n didn’t do it on purpose, she probably didn’t even know she did it. But Tim followed after her knowing she probably really had to talk about it.

Tim had regretted the breakup the moment it had happened because he had been the one to give up. But he thought he needed a breakup, because it was getting repetitive, not because he had stopped loving her. Especially not because of the reason for the breakup. They hadn’t really addressed it yet. Not again. He knew they had been on different stages of their relationship, but he never really thought how far off of each other they were. The worst part about their breakup was how aware he was that they still loved each other.

He watched her as she was making her way up.

“It’s wrong, right? This is wrong. You see it too, right?” She asked him.

Timmy chuckled, “what is? The fact you’re not using the stairs?”

“I… No, the fact that,” y/n stopped midway. “I… The fact that Harry and Emma are engaged.”

“Why is it wrong?” Tim bit his lip. “They love each other.”

“But… is it love really?” Y/N crossed her arms looking up. “No, no, I know it’s love it’s just…”

“What do you mean, y/n?” Tim dug his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the wall knowing y/n would probably sit any moment now.

“I don’t know … I know love and it,” she sighed as she finally slid her way down to sit on the stair.

Tim smiled watching her but then sat beside her. “They do love each other.”

“Well, yes they do,” she sighed, “I’m just…”

Tim watched her.

“Harry asked me about it, and I told him not to do it and he did anyway?” She frowned.

Tim chuckled softly, “you’re angry Harry didn’t listen to you for the first time.”

Y/n shook her head. “Not really… but I am his best friend! And I’m sure Sam said no too, I talked about it with Sam, his twin brother and best friend told him to wait. And he didn’t.”

“Why does he need to wait?”

“He’s young… he’s 22 and…wait at least until you turn 24, man, I dunno.”

Timmy laughed. “But what does age have to do with that?”

“But think about it, Tim. It’s soon in their relationship.”

“Maybe, but who’s to judge timing when it comes to love?”

She sighed, “we wouldn’t know much about timing but…”

Tim scrunched his nose. “You’re right I wouldn’t.”

She closed her eyes. “Tim it’s .. not that.”

He gave her a sad smile, “What is it really?”

She stayed quiet and leaned against the wall. Timmy watched her, and pushed a strand of her hair back.

“I love Emma, alright? I seriously… she’s one of the best friends that could’ve come into my life,” y/n started.

“But?” Timmy rested his head on his hand.

She chuckled watching him. “But I know Harry.”

“You know Harry,” Timothee agreed.

“I’ve known him his whole life literally and—“

“So then you know he is in love with her,” Tim added.

Y/N bit her lip. “I know many things about Harry.”

Tim nodded. “Then?”

“I think he’s not being fair,” she said. “He is… it’s just, they’re too young…”

“Too young?” Timothee watched her. “I think you’re just scared of marriage, y/n.”

Y/N froze. “I’m not…”she suddenly turned colder. “but they’re not ready.”

“How do you know that?” He asked.

She raised her hands. “It’s obvious!”

“Well when I asked you, you said no because you weren’t ready and- if she said yes then it means she was ready.”

“Tim.”

“You said it, didn’t you? you said ‘I’m not ready and that’s why I’m saying no’.”

“But I knew I wasn’t ready,” she gulped.

Tim coughed. “And will you ever be?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Timmy.”

“I, well, y/n, you know I’m willing to wait a lifetime for you, but…”

She stood up. “This wasn’t about us.”

Timothee sighed. “Well, we hadn’t talked about it.”

“I—-well…”

Timothee stood up. “I’m sorry y/n, but breaking up when knowing we both love each other isn’t easy, I mean we basically broke up because I loved you so much I proposed.”

She glanced away. “That wasn’t the reason why we broke up.”

“No, I know,” Tim dug his hands in his pockets. “it was leading towards it for a while, didn’t it?”

“No, I… Tim, I don’t want...look, I… I meant about Harry…” she sat back down.

“I think you’re just scared that Harry shouldn’t have done it for the same reason as to why you said no,” Timmy pointed out.

“It’s a completely different situation,” she frowned.

“Is it really?” Tim day on a lower step. “Because I know you said no because you’re unsure about your feelings towards someone else.”

She didn’t say anything for a bit. Maybe she didn’t want to admit it to herself.

“No, Tim it wasn’t that.”

“I’m…”he took a deep breath. “I’m okay with it, y/n, as okay as I can be.”

“Tim.”

“Look, I’ve seen the way you look at him,” he shrugged.

She stood up and climbed upstairs nervously. “Tim, no, let’s not have his conversation, please I’m already struggling.”

He closed his eyes. “I know, I see that,” he said as he rushed after her and stopped her.

“See what?”

He scoffed. “The way you look at Tom? Maybe? God, y/n.”

“With pure hatred?” She defended herself as she let out a lsugh. “Tim please I don’t really want to have this—“she kept going upstairs.

“I think you should go for it,” he mentioned.

She stopped and looked back at him. “What?”

“Yes, go for it,” Tim insisted. “isn’t that kind of the reason we broke up?”

“No, Tim, let’s not go there,” she pushed.

“Y/N,” Timothee calmly followed after her. “we were friends before all of this and I know, I think… I think you should try something with him.”

She was confused, Tim tried to map out the emotions she was going through. She licked her lips as she only watched him. Tim only gave her a gentle reassuring smile. But of course she was perplexed, a man who claimed to love her telling her to go with someone else.

“What?” She asked.

“Give it a go.”

“You’re insane.”

He finally stepped on the same level as her. “Y/N, you loved him once, and I know there is still that feeling pounding your head.”

“And what would I even do?”

“Dunno, that I don’t want to know, but let yourself fall for him and then you’ll know it. Give it a go.”

She bit her inner cheeks. “I would never give it a go again because he’s hurt me before, alright? My heart can’t bear that again, and I don’t feel anything—“

“There it is,” Tim chuckled. “So something has happened before.”

She gulped and looked away. “Not really, no.”

“Are you sure?”

“I did have feelings for him,” she admitted.

Tim laughed. “That’s brand new information!”

“Timmy.”

“I am very aware y/n and he has feelings for you,” he pushed.

She rolled her eyes, and kept walking, Tim only followed after her. “That’s the part where I know you’re crazy.”

He watched her with disbelief. “He looks at you the same way I look at you.”

She laughed cynically. “No Tim, he doesn’t...maybe he looks with lust, I dunno he’s a devil.”

“Nono, I’m very observant, y/n,” he reminded her. “and I mean you do this with everyone,” he scoffed. “but you take his breath away.”

“No.”

“And lately he takes your breath away.”

“No, Tim.”

“I honestly,” Tim rubbed his face. “and I hate saying this,” he commented. “you don’t know how much I hate saying this y/n but I really think you should try something... get rid of that feeling you have because I know you, you probably have that little thought roaming in your head,” he pushed her hair back. “Go and try something with Tom, ask him out.”

“Tim.”

“You know you want another heartbreak from Tom,”he sentenced. “and if it takes another heartbreak for you to realize we’re meant to be then…” he shrugged, as his hands landed on her waist.

“Timothee,” she said breathlessly.

“I’ll be here if you want to be in love, I’ll be here when he breaks your heart.”

“Timmy.”

He stepped closer. “You know we’re perfect for each other.”

She looked away. “Sometimes too perfect.”

“But if you love Tom,” he let her go and stepped back.

She frowned. “I don’t…”she confessed. “I should focus on my writing instead.”

He followed once again after her, as she finally reached her apartment.

“Ah yes, tell me what’s the story?”

She looked at the door, and laughed to herself. “I’m writing about falling in love.”

He chuckled. “Such an irony isn’t it.”

You wouldn’t believe it

He leaned against the door not letting her get in. “And how is that going?”

“It’s… going, I am writing about someone falling in love with someone, the truth is I don’t know what makes people fall in love.”

Tim smiled. “Hm, want me to tell you what made me fall in love with you?” He leaned close to her, making her blush.

“Do tell.” She watched him, and she did exactly what he had expected her to do. She looked him in both eyes, her sight traveling from one eye to another..

“The way you look into both my eyes,” he grinned.

She gloomed. “Hm?”

“You do this thing y/n,” but he couldn’t look away from seeing her. “when you look at both of them, your eyes travel, people usually only look at one eye but you always make sure to look at both, to make sure people know you really listen.”

She Cackled nervously. “And that’s what made you fall for me? That I probably can’t focus enough on one eye,” she appealed as she tried to search for her keys.

“Hey, I’m only starting okay? I love the way you’re so… you, you know? The way you don’t care about what everyone says, the way you—“he places his hand on her face. “The way you are brilliant, and so passionate and—ardent and—“

“Those are synonyms.”

“And the way you don’t take bullshit from anyone,” he continued laughing as she finally opened the door, she didn’t walk in, she leaned against the door watching him.

“I give that vibe off yet—“she chuckled. “But you know? Does that make people fall in love?”

Tim only rested his arm right above her and watched her. “Dunno,” he gulped. “Maybe? Or maybe it’s the little details, the props, you know? Flower pots… it’s the moments y/n, a walk under the rain, losing breath after laughing,” he continued, as he could smell her perfume, and he heard her hands mingling with her keys. She was shaking, and Tim knew that her heartbeat was going fast, maybe not as fast as his. He knew she loved him. “Or a coffee in the morning, a kiss…” and he knew she wanted this too, so he didn’t hesitate on leaning over to give her a quick peck to taste the remaining cherry on her lips. He had seen her nibbling on cherries the whole day, supposedly they were for the drinks but Tim knew she loved the sweet taste of the sugary fruits.

She kissed him back, slowly and scared. But then she pushed him away.

“No, Tim, please I can’t do this to you,” she confessed as he watched her.

“Do what?”

“No, no, I—“She looked down. “Tim I am really not—I don’t want to hurt you, alright? I need time… I…”

He watched her.

“This is too complicated,” she squeezed her eyes closed.

Tim sighed as he walked back. “‘It’s alright,” he took a deep breath. “But just so you know, y/n, I am not giving up yet.”

She sighed with a small smile. “Timmy.”

“Tom will never be able to kiss you that way, I’m sure,” he pushed. “I’m sorry, I’ll… I’ll leave now. See you on set.”

“Tim…” she looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”

And he left, not knowing who had had their heart most broken. But he didn’t want to think about it. He used the elevator.

Meanwhile, Tom was also freaking out over the sudden news of the engagement.

“I don’t want to tell Harry he fucked up but he fucked up didn’t he? I love Emma and I know he loves her but this is wrong,” Tom said.

“Yeah… I mean,” Haz didn’t really want to go over this with his best friend as he had already heard him talk and talk and talk about it on the ride.

“Getting married? That’s… crazy,” Tom continued.

“No, getting married is not crazy.” Haz rolled his eyes.

“No I know but,” Tom opened his fridge to get a beer as he threw one at Haz.

“But what?” Haz asked as he opened it.

“The timing…” Tom took a long sip.

“Doesn’t that just come in perfect time for you?” Haz pointed out.

Tom frowned. “What do you mean?”

Harrison laughed. “Look, Tom, I didn’t ask much into it before but you are in love with y/n, and that is a big deal,” he commented.

Tom coughed. “Not really...shit it’s weird you know.”

“I’d say I’m surprised,” Haz admitted. “but now that I’ve been thinking about it all day, you haven’t been subtle about it.”

Tom looked away. “What?”

Haz chuckled and stared at him, incredulous.

Tom waited for an explanation.

“Come on,” Haz pushed. “The way you hate on Tim, they way that even if you claim to hate her—“

“I do hate her,” Tom interrupted.

“Even if you claim to hate her,” Haz emphasized. “You're always there.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Well but that’s because she’s important to my family.”

“The way that you literally always find a way to be around her just to bother her, and the way you literally know everything about her… Like you literally know everything.”

“Everything she hates.”

“Oh my god, why are you trying to deny this?”

“I’m not denying it… but that doesn’t have to do with anything.”

Harrison frowned. “Doesn’t it, though? You are in love with her, I know it, it’s okay to admit it.”

“Well okay now that you put it that way,” Tom coughed. “Yes I am in love with her,” he continued. “But what do you want me to admit? That she takes my breath away every time I see her but I won’t... and yes she’s probably on my mind 24/7,” Tom sighed as he played with the beer cap. “and she’s literally driving me crazy and I want to kiss her all day long and fuck, she’s so pretty, and god, the way she speaks? And doesn’t care at all, and the way she turns everything pretty?” Tom smiled to himself. “God and she smells amazing doesn’t she? Like... I don’t know shit about flowers but I know she smells like them…” Tom bit his lip. “but ... that doesn’t matter because she won’t know this and if she knew this I’d blame you.”

Harrison just blinked. “What the fuck?”

Tom frowned. “What?”

Haz laughed. “You are literally so in love with her.”

“I’m not.”

Harrison watched him with disbelief and not understanding one bit of Tom's head.

“Okay yes I am, but it’s hard okay?” Tom gulped.”This is literally the first time I ever tell anybody. Dunno.”

Harrison laughed. “Mate... but now it’s so clear,” Haz had to hold his head, “like... her last birthday?”

“What about it?”

“First, that’s why you were killing Timothee with your glance. “

“I hate Tim,” Tom barked. “He is annoying and boring. Because he’s so dreamy, and fuck, he gave her a ride didn’t he? He’s trying to take her back.”

“And he will if you don’t do anything,” Haz pushed.

Tom scoffed. “I can’t.”

“You need to pull another stunt as you did on her birthday?”

“What stunt?”

“Gosh, it makes so much sense now,” Haz asserted. “The gift you gave her?”

Tom smirked, pleased of himself, he had known that he had been the one with the best gift. Not even Timothee with the new Polaroid. And the gift had had y/n texting him for a complete week believing there was something wrong with it, and that I’m any time it would turn out to be a prank. It wasn’t.

“Please,” Tom scoffed arrogantly. “everyone knows she likes The Rolling Stones. She’s so typical.”

“But giving her an original vinyl? Signed?” Haz pushed.

Tom gulped. “I—well, what about it? I’m in love with her, now you know it.”

“Nothing, I’m just calling myself out for being so fucking blind—“Harrison dipped his drink. “How long has this been going on?”

Tom leaned against the counter. “I... well, since forever,” Tom smiled to himself. “Not that... Look, when I’ve dated other girls,” Tom coughed. “I’ve loved them and only them but somehow y/n always finds her way into my heart and that’s annoying like... god”

“I’m just surprised I didn’t notice,” Harrison said.

“I’ve been pretty good at hiding it, even when we’ve kissed I’ve made everyone believe I didn’t like her,” he admitted.

“Even her huh?” Harrison questioned.

Tom sighed. “I couldn’t. Because Harry loved her and if she knew I liked her back when she liked me—Then I would’ve been an asshole to my brother because he’s been the one who was nice to her all this time. And he—He deserves someone like her, and she deserves someone like him.”

“But Harry is engaged now.”

“That’s—I don’t know, I think he’s still in love with y/n,” Tom said. “And I feel like this is a perfect way for Harry to escape rather than actually facing it.”

Haz shook his head. “I think he really loves Emma.”

“I do too, but marriage?” Tom frowned. “Dunno, maybe you’re right.”

Harrison nodded. “God, how was I so stupid? I can’t believe I never saw it.”

“Well, stop it now, okay? I still dislike her and I will keep on disliking her, and I will act like I hate her.”

Harrison frowned. “That’s very stupid.”

“Is it? Look,” Tom took out his phone. “I’ll text her that I hate her and she’ll answer back just that she hates me too.”

Haz frowned. “I don’t get it,” He frowned. “If you now know this, why don’t you just…?”

“It’s complicated.”

Harrison frowned. “Dude she liked you too,” he reminded him. “Why would you do everything you’ve done if you—“

“I may have wanted her to know I liked her,” Tom admitted. “But then I remembered I shouldn’t and—I don’t think she’s ever believed I like her, even when... the fucking yellow flowers.”

“I’ve never understood why it means so much between you both and why you always get tense when they mention it.”

“It’s been a constant prop in our... relationship it’s... nothing,” Tom rubbed his face as his phone vibrated. “She just texted me back.”

Haz watched him. “And?”

Tom coughed, blushing. “She just said… your place in 30?”

Harrison burst out laughing “She wants the d, great, but no, tell her not to come over.”

Tom frowned. “Why not?”

“A, I’m here.”

“You can pretend you’re not.”

Harrison frowned. “That’s gross, I… and okay, but a, I’m here and b) Tom, if you’re in love with her having this whole thing, will only make things worse. You should pursue a relationship instead.”

“Who says I want a relationship? I’m alright like this.”

Harrison rolled his eyes. “You’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

“I can’t want it,” Tom explained. “Besides, I think I’ve hurt her enough for her to not to want one.”

“What do you know?”

“I know her enough, alright? And she probably wants to go back to Timothee Chaglabob.”

“Chalamet-“

“I swear Harrison,” Tom rolled his eyes. “But—I mean if this whole benefits thing works out then I’m good, would I want a relationship where I can kiss her all day and be all adorable and take her everywhere and just make her laugh all day? No. I don’t want any of it, she’s annoying.”

Harrison only watched him, “are you fucking listening to yourself?”

“Yes, I don’t—I am in love with her but I don’t like her.”

Haz couldn’t believe what he was hearing, Tom was probably the most stupid man he’d ever met.

“I genuinely can’t act nice around her,” Tom admitted. “I’m—I can’t.”

“What if you try?” Haz frowned. “Take her somewhere nice, be romantic, see how she responds and then you’ll see how it goes.”

“No.”

“You know what? I don’t even know why I’m arguing with you, you’re so stupid,” Haz said before heading to his bedroom. “Please don’t be too loud.”

Tom only stared at his phone, and texted back: “come here now.”

And Tom knew it took her about 20 minutes to come, so he showered, and he got all dressed up, and then changed into something less nice, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He even put on some lotion. He had combed his hair back then ruffled it a bit so it didn’t look bad. But he stared at the house? Did he have to light up some candles? Or was that too romantic and out of place for their new title. He lit some up anyway. Should he play music? He bit his lip but searched for some music.

But this was stupid right? It didn’t have to be this way. It wasn’t romantic. This was not nice.

But before he could even make a decision to turn everything off, y/n had knocked on the door.

And he felt like this was wrong but he couldn’t act like it. And honestly, he’d be an idiot if he denied having any sex.

But y/n was having her own thoughts. She felt guilty. But she technically had Tim’s approval. Didn’t she? But it was wrong and she didn’t know why.

But she had to admit that Tom had left her hot and bothered after kissing her neck in the bathroom. Besides, she could try that thing with Tom. She had to change this whole sexual relationship into an actual relationship. Did she? Or maybe she could only have fun.

Of course, that the moment she’d sent that text everything had probably gone to shit. When driving over to his place she realized how this sounded only like a random booty call when it actually wasn’t. Maybe it was. This was y/n wanting to talk with someone without being judged and someone who probably was on the same page as her.

Because this had her on the edge and as she had typed in some words to her script she actually took into account that she didn’t want to do this.

She needed to change the script. She could lie. She could write about it without living it. But she wrote about it: enemies with benefits. It had a ring to it, it sounded catchy. Hating each other in the day, but pretending to love at night. It wasn’t a sin. Because she technically didn’t have to try anything, maybe she could tell her boss that she really didn’t want to pull such a shitty thing. But writing about sleeping with the enemy… it was sexy.

This was so selfish of her. But Tim had reason on what he’d say, maybe she did want to give one last chance to this. She wouldn’t compel, however. How could she?

She was scared but the moment Tim had told her to give it a go, a thought had swirled in her mind. Could she give it a go?

But she hated him. There was some kind of awakening inside her. But she had to remember what he’d put her through. And how even with this he could turn around and run the other way, far from her. And she won’t be able to hide again.

But sleeping with him couldn’t hurt as long as she wasn’t the one to catch feelings.

When the door was opened she saw Tom, with his hair wet, and smelling so good, his lotion suffocating her and begging her lips to go straight to his neck. The drops on his forehead only there to fill her imagination.

He gave her a grin, but then stared at her sweatpants.

He gave her a second glance and chuckled. “So how is this—“

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to talk to and I really don’t want to tell Harry because well it involves him and I had to talk to someone but I don’t know why I thought of you.”

Tom blinked. “You…what?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Tom chuckled. “Why?”

“I dunno. You know what? Forget it, it’s silly… so,” she squeezed her eyes closed. “Pants off, Holland,” she ordered as she then pushed him against the wall, slamming the door closed and then smashed her lips against his, forcing Tom to close his eyes and place his hands on her waist, his fingers pressing down on her back. She could taste a fainted beer on his lips, and she could smell his shampoo, she could tell he had just showered.

He laughed as he pulled away. “That’s—That’s?”

“I’m sorry I’ve never had a booty call before.”

“I can tell.”

She rolled her eyes and playfully nudged him, letting him go.

“But you wanted to talk?” He chuckled mockingly. “I didn’t know kids these days were calling it that way.”

“Forget it.” She looked around and chuckled to herself. “Candles? And music?”

Tom chuckled. “I—well.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic aren't you?”

“Yeah I was about to turn them off, though,” he admitted. “I kind of forgot I was going to sleep with my worst enemy.”

He blew out the candles and turned off the music.

She chuckled. “This is stupid.”

“Why? Want me to turn them back on?”

“I don’t know, it just—is,” she said. “Besides, I think this is the first time I haven’t had any alcohol on me before doing this.”

“Huh, we’ve been pretty drunk, right?” He bit his lip.“What did you want to talk about?” He wondered as he approached her.

“Nothing.”

“What if we—talk about it while we go for some alcohol?”

“You want to talk?”

“That can be another benefit.” He took her hand back.

She frowned as she watched him, unsure as to why he was acting this particular way. He cupped her cheek, but then frowned.“Weren’t you with Tim?”

She blinked. “What?”

“I saw you leave with him,” he commented.

“I… well, I was but…”

He smirked. “Hm, he can’t satisfy you—and that's why you come to me.”

“What the fuck Tom?” She pinched him on his arm, earning a laugh from him.

“Let’s go for a drive, we need alcohol,” he yelled as he took out his keys.

“You know what? No, fuck off,” she stormed off to her car as Tom followed after her.

“Y/N, no, come on, come on,” he stopped her, taking her from her waist, hugging her from behind placing kisses on her neck. Tom had learned quickly. A kiss on her neck would have her down on her knees. Of course, like everything Tom learned about her, he’d be using it as a weapon.

“Why are you so obsessed with Tim?” She frowned, as he continued to pepper her neck with sloppy wet kisses, making her stomach fill up with butterflies. “Tom.” But he didn’t stop, his hands were now travelling down her stomach, as he sucked on slightly on her neck and then his lips delicately landed on her collarbone. “Thomas,” she closed her eyes.

He snickered against her neck. “You sure you want to leave?”

She closed her eyes as she felt his hot breath against that sweet spot on her neck. She nudged his ribs and then pushed him back.

“Y/N,” he smirked with lust as he pulled her back to him. “Hm, should we go back inside?” He asked as his lips landed on hers, biting on her bottom lip.

She cupped his ass and then deepened the kiss, now he was the one to soothe into her touch, as she slid her tongue in.

She pulled away as he was left dumbfounded, earning a smirk from y/n. “No. Let’s go for that drive.”

He blinked. “Y/N.”

“Cmon let’s go”

“Y/N.”

“Haz is in there, isn’t he?” She questioned.

“He’s asleep.”

She looked away.

“I have beer,” he explained. “We can chug down 8 of them at once and then you’ll forget it’s me who you’re screwing and pretend it’s someone else.”

She scoffed. “Like who?”

“I dunno, Chris Evans.”

She laughed. “I’m not pretending I’m screwing someone else, I just have to… Get to the idea.”

He placed his hands on her waist. “So?”

“No, I’m angry at you,” she pushed him away and then headed to her car.

He let out a cackle, and followed after her, he pecked her cheek before pushing her slightly. “Isn’t that the point, though?”

“No,” she got into her car.

He laughed not letting her close the door. “I love your car is old, just adds in more to the aesthetic.”

“Can you let me close the door?” She begged.

“No,” he chuckled as he sat on her lap.

“Thomas.”

He chuckled. “Hm,” his cold lips landed on her chin. “Y/N.”

She closed her eyes, and Tom slowly closed the door. Y/N opened her eyes with surprise as Tom was now letting his hands inside her t-shirt.

He started to nibble on her ear as she closed her eyes back, her hands roaming through his hair, he licked near the earlobe. Y/n blushed as she then walked her fingers through his chest lining every muscle on his body.

Her fingers shrivelled at the end of his t-shirt as she slowly pulled it off. He smirked as he finally kissed her lips, slowly and coordinated at first but the kiss getting sloppier as her fingers pressed against his bare skin. He tried shifting her as his hands cupped her breasts now, kneading them as he pleased.

She let out a soft moan, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue now sliding in. Tom took her waist in his hands as he then tried to pick her up.

“What are you doing?” She asked between kisses as he tried moving her.

“Sh,” was the only response he gave her. But he reached for something under the seat desperately . He finally reached for something as he pushed the car seat back, giving them slightly more space to move.

He kissed her again, smiling slightly against her lips.

He managed to pull off her shirt, revealing the red lacy bra she had so kindly and carefully chosen.

He took a second to stare at it, catching his breath as he stared at the red bow in the middle of her breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, y/n,” he gasped as he looked at her face now, with her hair puffed up, and only her eyes covered with slight mascara and a faint pink from the makeup she’d worn at the party. A trace of red lipstick was seen there too.

She grinned at him as she pulled him back down to meet her lips with him, she giggled against the kiss.

“I hate you but I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he caressed her cheeks with his lips. He dug into his pocket and took out his wallet, searching for the condom.

She didn’t say anything as she slightly bucked her hips against his, her core pooled from every single kiss he had placed on her body, she grinned herself against him to get a sort of friction. Tom managed to move just slightly to path down his way to her chest, leaving a trail of his kisses as it shined with the streetlight.

Her hands went down to his sweatpants that were hiding nothing as his hard length was begging to come out. Her slick hand found its way inside his sweatpants as she palmed above his boxers. He only curved up his hips as she started to graze the tip of his cockhead, as it twitched with the slightest touch.

He curved again but now hitting the claxon, both of them scared by the loud noise, they laughed at each other.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she tried to hide her giggles. “We have to be careful.”

“No shit,” he laughed as his hands migrated to her thighs, opening her as he managed to pull down her own sweats, revealing the red lacy panties matching with her bra. “All dolled up for me?” He asked cockily as his fingers brushed the little bow on the fabric.

She bit her bottom lip as he found his way down to nuzzle her breasts. She was feeling just slightly guilty that Tim had kissed her just hours before. The little space they had could only give them such movements, but her hand didn’t leave his cock as she traced it up and down, his length swelling up . He moaned just slightly and cursed under his breath as he pushed down his underwear, he couldn’t help it anymore.

“I need you,” she whispered. “Tom, I need you,” she moaned. He wrapped the condom around him.

He nodded fervently as he finally without any warning, pulled down her red panties and pushed into her. He had to take a deep breath as he felt her drenched pussy covering him up. She moaned, enjoying the full blister as he had filled her up.

“So tight,” he moaned as he shifted above her, slowly bucking his hips up and down, her hands landed on his ass, as if trying to push her further into her.

“Oh god,” she gasped, as she danced her own hips around him, with the reduced space they had to barely move but the friction against the seat.

Tom was deep buried in and he slowly started to hip in and out quickly, finding a pace that had y/n moaning his name, but he covered her mouth, and she pushed him further in, trying to avoid another claxon accident as before.

And the windows were fogging up from the heat created between them. Y/N needed to get her grip as Tom kept pushing into her, filling her up until he could feel himself in her stomach roughly. His lips trying to catch hers in between gasps and moans.

“Tom,” was all she could say as her fingers painted down in the blurred window. Her back now moving faster with the help of her sweat.

She was rolling her eyes back with delight as Tom was hitting her right in the spot, she reached down to circle her clit but Tom replaced her hand with his, as he circled it slowly, teasing her at first. But then rubbed it fast enough for her to wash out her orgasm.

But her own hands scratched his back as she was trying to catch her own breath, as she tried to get a grip of the reality that was going in between. The smell of sweat combined with his lotion and her own perfume. The taste of beer combined with her own taste of cherries.

She couldn’t hear anything, only his gasps and her name coming from under his breath. She moaned just slightly as he thrust in and out, a fast rhythm, that was getting sloppier with each thrust.

He was shaking and he finally curved in, he groaned but then finally shivered as he came right into her, her clenching pussy just tightening it.

He moaned her name, throwing his head back as he then plopped himself above her, catching her breath. He finally pulled out but remained kissing her neck.

He kissed her once again, as she caught her breath, little gasps as her fingers swirled around his hair. She stared into his caramel eyes and then cupped his face, pecking his lips just slightly, his hair now combined with droplets of his sweat and the water from his earlier shower. His cheeks red as he continued kissing her.

“Shall we go for that ride now?” He asked, chuckling slightly.

“I don’t know if I can drive,” she admitted as she moved her legs, panting softly.

He smirked cockily. “Hm, I’ll be driving your car then.”

She rolled her eyes as he tried to sit up, once against hitting the claxon letting out a loud noise.

They laughed at each other.

“Well if Haz wasn’t up, then he sure is by now,” he chuckled.

He pulled up his underwear and sweatpants.

“Mmh, drive shirtless,” she pleaded.

He smirked. “Alright.”

The ride was quiet at the beginning. Y/n had put in Tom’s t-shirt. Tom’s hand would land on her thigh every now and then but y/n would flick it off. However, her own hand hadn’t left his leg. He would cough and slightly move trying to remain calm. Y/N only smirked.

“You hungry?” He asked, as his hand landed on Hers, squeezing it slightly.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“I’m craving breakfast,” he commented as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly.

“At 1am?” She laughed pulling her hand back.

“Why not?”

“Isn’t like a worldwide known rule not to have breakfast with your booty call?” She pointed out.

He laughed. “I love how you keep calling me a booty call.”

“Well aren’t you?” She giggled.

He grinned. “Well, but it’s not the morning so it wouldn’t be cheating the rules, it’s against the rules to have breakfast the next morning.”

“Huh.”

He chuckled. “And I know this place that’s open 24/7.”

“But isn’t it against our other rules? We are enemies, Holland.”

“I’ll make you choke on a waffle, don’t worry,” he pushed. “And besides we can get it to go and have it somewhere else, therefore… Not breaking any rules.”

She sighed. “Fine. Let’s go have breakfast.”

Y/N had to give him his shirt back as they went to the place. But as soon as they were back in the car, y/n was hesitating. She would be driving now.

“It’s late, Tom I should probably go back home,” she reminded him. “I’ll drive you home and—“

“Or we could go to the treehouse,” he commented.

“The treehouse? At 3 in the morning?” She laughed. “I’m not sneaking into your parents’ house.”

“Why not?” He laughed. “It’s not sneaking in, really, I’ve got the keys, and I’m allowed to go there.”

She chuckled. “You really want to take me to your parents’ house to have breakfast?”

Tom scrunched his nose. “Well if you put it that way.”

“That would get you in trouble wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s go then,” she smirked as she took a sip of her milkshake.

And they were quiet for the ride, as Tom would only sing along to the songs playing on the radio. Y/n’s old car couldn’t play anything but cassettes, which at the moment Tom didn’t really want to listen to. He knew most cassettes had been a gift by Timmy.

He had been honest, he loved her car. An old, silver vintage car. It belonged to her grandparents and she had been keen on getting it back on.

Tom only watched her as she was licking the tip of her lips and focused on the road. Or so did Tom think.

Because what he didn’t know was that y/n was debating with herself over the current events. The fact that Harry was engaged. The fact that Timmy had kissed her and the fact that she had ended up having car sex with Tom anyway.

But she stayed quiet, and even quieter as they sneaked into the Holland’s household, y/n trying not to chuckle as they made their way to the garden.

They managed to climb to the top, y/n being helped by Tom as they tried to get their breakfast intact as they pushed it up.

Eventually, they were at their old treehouse, where there were too many memories for them to even remember.

Their breakfast hadn’t really survived as the now soggy pancakes and waffles were crumbled up. They didn’t care anyway.

Tom had been brushing her hand for a while now as they peacefully and quietly ate. They were on the floor of the treehouse sitting right in front of each other. The food placed in front of them as they both ate from each other’s plate.

“Are we gonna talk about it, though?” She asked as she pulled back her hand just as Tom had brushed it again. This was too nice for it to be real. She was only expecting Tom to pull any kind of stupid stunt he liked to pull.

Tom cleared his throat, glancing slightly at her. “What?”

“Your brother? going insane?”

Tom laughed, “Ah you think it too?”

“It is insane, he asked me about it like two weeks ago and—“

“You said no, right?” He frowned.

“Yes I said no, I told him that he should wait—“

“Because he should!” Tom agreed.

She looked down at the waffle with strawberries. “This is crazy.”

Tom licked remaining syrup off his fingers. “Haz didn’t agree with me.”

“And Tim didn’t agree with me.”

“Ugh,” Tom groaned. “Timothee Chalkboard.”

She only smiled, rolling her eyes. “Why do you hate him?”

“He’s dumb—“

“He’s not.”

“ and I can’t believe you are so smitten with him.”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Tom,” she rolled her eyes.

He chuckled as he stared down at the food. “God but what do you see in him?”

Y/n cleared her throat. “I am not dating him anymore, I’m not—”

He smirked. “Oh, so you are not into him.”

“That’s not what I said,” she rolled her eyes.

Tom scooted closer, as he poked her with a soggy bite of waffle. “Are you into someone else?”

She groaned cleaning her cheek. “Hm no, not really,” she looked away. “But going back to your brother it’s crazy right?”

“Super crazy like Harry you’re so-”

“Young! Yes, and they’re not—”

“Ready!” Tom finished growling. “I mean they do love each other.”

Y/n nodded. “But it feels off right?”

Tom nodded in agreement as he smiled at her. “Gosh, who are we? Agreeing on something?”

Y/n laughed. “Right?”

“We sleep together and we agree on things?” Tom squeezed his eyes.

“Ha, maybe everyone was right,” she commented.

“Huh, maybe they were,” Tom grinned.

Because truly everyone was right. Even if they were stupid enough to admit it.

“This place brings back so many memories,” Tom admitted as he looked around, it looked dusty and old and really forgotten. Some toys were there, boxes full of crayons. Stories waiting to be told.

“Yeah, like the time you pushed me off and I broke my ankle,” y/n recalled.

Tom laughed. “I’m sorry, I was an asshole.”

“Was?” She questioned. “I’m probably being poisoned right now.”

“Mmh,” he reached for her pancake. “I didn’t, see?”

“You haven’t had any of my milkshake, could be here,” she pointed out as she took a sip.

He grinned. “You figured my evil plan, killing you with milkshake.”

She chuckled. “But so many memories, yes,” she looked around. “I think this is the place where we filmed amazing movies here, you remember?”

“I do,” he laughed. “But please we have more memories rather than only when children.”

“I remember that one time when you were...17 I think and you got drunk and jumped off and landed on me,” she recalled again.

“Shit, that was your... “

“Elbow, yep,” she laughed. “You really have a thing with breaking my bones, huh?”

He smirked. “Yeah, almost broke your legs tonight.”

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes.

“No, but… Really, I’m sorry I was a real asshole to you all these years,” he apologized.

“Oh, so this is what I needed? We had to have sex for you to finally realize what big of an asshole you were?”

He gulped. “No, I knew it.”

“That makes it worse,” she groaned as she rolled her eyes.

“I know.”

“But,” she chuckled. “All good now, you bought me a pancake so I can’t be mad at you,” she grinned as she took a bite. “That is until you come up with another type of bullshit.”

“So pancakes now, huh? Not yellow flowers got it,” he smiled sadly.

“Yes, pancakes,” she cleared her throat, as she then reached for her backpack, pulling out a Polaroid camera. “Wait, smile.”

Tom watched her but then smiled at her, posing as he took a bite. And y/n snpped the picutre, as Tom leaned over to see it, and then y/n waited for the picture to dry out, she could feel him breathing against her neck, he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and she knew it when it finally revealed itself, so simple, a picutre of Tom biting on a waffle in the middle of the night. But she knew it, she’d give it a go.

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rohad93 · 3 years

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Hi! I really admire the fics you do, I find them amazing. I'm thinking of writing one too and I'd like you to give me some technical advice, if possible. Especially with how to make the dialogues, describe situations or how to get the ideas across. thanks a lot in advance!

Hey, thanks!

Whoo, you don’t ask any short questions do you, anon?

I wanna start by saying that I’m probably not the person you want to ask for technical writing advice, despite writing for the last 15 years. Most writers you ask will tell you about outlines and rough drafts… I don't do that. I am very much a ‘make everything up as I go’ kind of writer. Which I don’t recommend if you aren’t practiced at it cause what you’ll really end up doing is missing things you want to include and a number of stuff that will bite you in the ass later, like writing yourself into a corner from which you now have no escape. So I highly recommend, if nothing else, plotting out all the major points you want to cover so that what you’re doing is working toward them. You can make stops along the way but don’t forget your end goal! I wrote Moonlit Masquerade under the pretense of “I want them to dance at a masquerade” that was it. Everything - in the first one at least- is geared toward this goal. (and the confessing feelings part i guess,lol)

Anyway, you asked me though so!

Well, for dialogue I assume you mean making it flow and not so clunky. This is tricky at times and really depends on your situation and how well the characters know each other. Characters meeting or conversing for the first time are going to have stilted and rocky dialogue with each other more likely than not, as opposed to ones who are friends and can all but pickup a conversation they had two days ago without so much as a hello. Paying attention to how conversations flow around you will help. As far as making interesting scenes around conversations, and scenes in general, I always offer the same bit of advice.

Your characters and their conversations do not happen in a void. There is always something going on around them, sounds, stuff. Say you have characters sitting on a bench, talking in the park. What else is going on? Birds, a lawn mower, traffic somewhere in the distance or kids playing. Maybe one of them is distracted by their phone or playing with the frayed strands of their jeans. When characters interact it's not just standing perfectly still in a soundless, sightless black hole. Remember this if you want your scenes to feel real and lived in. Another not about dialogue.

"Like this?" he asked.

"No, this sucks," he replied.

"Are you sure?" he questioned.

"Yep," he responded.

Not this. There nothing wrong with these dialogue tags per se but you can easily make this scene less monotone.

"Like this?" he asked, gesturing to the document.

"No, this sucks," he replied with a shake of his head.

"Are you sure?" he questioned with a lilt, brow cocked upward as he glanced back at it.

"Yep," he responded, sounding sure.

Now it reads far less monotone.

You have to give your scenes and characters life by giving them personalities. Quirks, habits, ticks. Ways they behave in situations. Though, in fanfiction this is more about your understanding of the existing characters,

As far as describing scenes go. It’s much the same as conversations though you have to be careful about belaboring points. Some things, especially if they are important, require far more detailed descriptions, don’t spend a lot of time describing things that really aren’t important. Detailed enough that you can see it, roughly in your head, going into greater detail only about things that really need it.

If you have characters going to a park (i dunno why i seem to be stuck on using parks as examples here) you don’t need to describe every brush and shrub and piece of playground equipment in the place. Just a park and describe in brief detail a few of its key features, a fountain, a playground, traffic whizzing by. That's all you need, the scene is set.

Say you have them go to that fountain though, then you can describe that with more detail. The stone, the carvings, etc, again though, only if it’s important or to add to your conversation. The sound of water in the background or the way it feels under their hands.

Really, you’re just always looking for ways to engage your reader, make it interesting. The more relatable and familiar these things are the easier it is to get sucked in.

So yeah…. Hope this helps? Good luck!

#writing #Rohad Rambles #How i word

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terraeferaearchive · 2 years

Text

——— basics! ♡

(PEN)NAME: Kennie! Always have been Kennie, probably always will be Kennie

PRONOUNS: She / Her

ZODIAC SIGNS: Aquarius. Fear me

TAKEN OR SINGLE: Taken for 6 years! While not married officially, we are engaged and I call him my hubby anyways.

TIME ZONE: MST -7

——— three facts! ♡

I’m a teacher! While I do specialize in Elementary School Education, I have taught older students as well. I’ve only been teaching for a year, but I’ve been absolutely loving it! It’s been a great time!

I’ve been a music player since I was 3 years old! I play the piano, the electric and acoustic guitar, the ukulele, bass guitar, and drums. I also absolutely love singing, and will sing pretty much whenever I get the chance. I’m pretty sure it drives some people crazy, but at least my hubby loves it!

I absolutely love going camping during the summer, but I have gone winter camping a few times as well. Let me tell you, making winter shelters and going ice climbing and whatnot? One of the best camping experiences I’ve had in a very long time. Or at least the most unique.

——— experience !

I’ve been on Tumblr since 2011, where I actually started in the FMA:B Fandom. I’ve been in a variety of fandoms throughout the years, all of which are on my canon multimuse right now, actually. This is my first time making an OC blog and indie world and all that. But overall, I’ve been on Tumblr for 11 years, and I’ve been RPing in general for even longer (Aging myself, but Facebook RP, anyone?)

——— muse preference ! ♡

I tend to lean more towards female muses than anything else, mostly because that’s what I’m most familiar and comfortable with. But I do have the occasional male/NB muse! In terms of personalities, I’ve found that while I do tend towards naturally good-aligned muses, I do also like the morally grey ones. This is just because I find them super interesting! Completely villainous muses for me are few and far between.

——— FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡

FLUFF: I might not get the chance to write it all that much, but I absolutely love fluff. There’s just something about writing people sharing soft moments with one another that makes my heart flutter. It makes me so happy to do something like this, especially because when I do, the brainrot gets into my head.

ANGST: Hahaha... I write angst quite a bit, no matter where I am. But that’s mostly cause people that I talk to put ideas in my head. And I, being someone with little to no self control, take those ideas and just RUN WITH THEM. Just... exploring certain aspects just makes me looks respectfully. Plus, I do have a tendency to think of somewhat darker plots... Those ones only get written with certain people that I trust absolutely. But angst as a whole? Yeah gimme that.

SMUT: While I do tend to get quite suggestive at times, writing smut for me is relatively rare. Like, I’ll answer asks once in a while... But a full-blown thread? Those are rare, mostly because I’ll get to that point and then just... Draw a mental blank, tbh. Of course, I do get it eventually. But I do noticeably slow down when it gets to that point. Why do I do this? I dunno. But it happens anyways.

PLOT / MEMES: Give me all of those memes! I absolutely love doing memes, mostly because I can just roll with them and see where they go. To be honest, I don’t really plot all that much. And even when I do, it’s relatively little. Where to start, where to end, any big notes, and no-goes? Other than that... We leave things up to chance. Especially in anything that could be combat related. That’s mostly because I tend to roll dice to see how my muses do in a fight, and having tight plotting makes it hard to do. So I like to leave things open so that I can just roll with the punches in the end.

tagged by : @jardinae (Hehehe love ya!)

tagging : @diverse-hearts, @calamitoussoul, and you!

#Kennie Yells- OOC #About me

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gamergirlshelby · 3 years

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"Can we talk about the BNHA OC Comeback timeline? I've been dying to talk about my theories for the BNHA OC Comeback timeline all day!"

-Me to anyone willing to listen.

Here are the ramblings of me, someone who has no restraint when it comes to coming up with crazy theories about their interests, rambling about their theories on how the BNHA OC Comeback timeline could work.

Note: this is all speculation, and if the people in charge of the AU deem it to not be canon it is not. This was just something I did for fun because I wanted to do some writing. That is why I said could happen and not should happen, because this is all just fun speculation, and none of the other fandoms I am a part of have been able to scratch that itch for me lately.

Also, I will be talking about spoilers for a majority of the anime, but mostly stuff revealed in seasons 3-5, with a little bit of stuff from seasons 1 and 2, since those are the seasons with a lot of the important details that I will be attempting to write work arounds for. I will also be using the Wiki's names for story arcs (a list of which can be found here) when referring to specific plot events.

My ramblings about my theories are under the read more:

Also, to start this off, this speculation was pretty much brought upon by this post from the official BNHA OC Comeback blog, but what is important here is the tags.

I think the idea of Class 1-A and Class 1-B being third years would be a good starting point for what I want to be diving into.

First point should be a little obvious but in this timeline, Deku still inherits One for All from All Might. This is mainly because if he didn't, if someone where to write or draw an interaction between this version of class 1-A with, lets say class 1-X for this example, Deku would likely not be there, due to not having a quirk, causing the question of "who is the 20th student in class 1-A?" One for All would likely be passed down to someone else (most likely Mirio because Nighteye was going to recommend him to All Might in the first place, and if Deku is not going to inherit it, I doubt there would be anything in the way of Mirio getting One for All)

Second point I want to point out is the battle between All Might and All for One that had happened before the events of the show. I think All Might will still suffer from his injuries from the fight, and continue being the symbol of peace, even if it is killing him. BUT I think it would be best if All for One gets defeated and gets put into hiding, not initiating any of his plans or finding Tomura Shigaraki. Tomura never getting taken in by One for All would also cause the League of Villains to never form (at least not in the way we are familiar with) so we.

Third Point is, although this is speculation, and I do not know where Nomus come from, I do think, even without the league of villains, there would be some sort of lab somewhere where Nomus are being created, likely as one of the last things All for One was able to set into motion before going into hiding in the AU. (I mostly went with this because I think Nomus as a concept are really cool, and I think it would be great to have some sort of generic enemy for the 1-X and 1-Y students to have to face without the need of creating a new organization)

Fourth Point is because All for One is in hiding, so All for One can not force All Might to reveal his "injured form" (I dunno what else to call it), but I do think when All Might and Sato get engaged, he will maybe (and this is a big maybe) reveal it to the public on his own, as more of a "I'm retiring and settling down now" then a "You must keep fighting because I can not" thing, causing crime to not sky rocket, but still rise because there is no more symbol of peace, since there is still the possibility (at least in the publics mind) that All Might could come out of retirement and go back to saving people.

Alright now I begin with some of the actual stuff that actively happened in the show that Class 1-A and Class 1-B had experienced.

Alright so everything at the beginning of the anime is the same, going up until the USJ arc. This is because, as stated previously, there is no League of Villains to attack the USJ. The only thing I can think of that could possibly stay the same is the All Might vs Nomu fight, because I think Nomus as a concept are cool and that was an awesome fight. The only way for the fight to happen though is that the Nomu is let loose somewhere else, like a highly populated area, because it makes no sense for it to be at USJ without the League.

Next is the sports festival, and this would also go the same. But after that is probably the most interesting arc I leave mostly unchanged, being the Hero Killer Arc. This is because, even without a League of Villain's, there would still be people following Stain's ideologies after he is detained, so I think maybe there could be some sort of small unorganized group of people following Stain's beliefs that there are no more "true" heroes. The group of stain followers would likely be the characters that had joined the League of Villains after the Hero Killer Arc (like Dabi, Himiko Toga, and Twice). It is also unchanged in the sense that the students are interning with Pro Heroes, and that Nomus are running around, being a cool concept (can you tell I like Nomus? I just think they are neat.).

Next is the Final exams Arc, which would go unchanged, but the next arc, the Forrest Camp Training arc, would also not have a League attack (because there is no league), and Class 1-A and Class 1-B have a normal experience at the training camp, causing there to be no Hideout Raid arc, because there is no hideout to raid.

Next, the Provisional License Exams are the same results, so no change here, except Camie Utsushimi would be there instead of Toga's impersonation of her, and still ending up to need to take the Remedial Course.

After that is the Shie Hassaikai Arc and then Remedial Course Arc. The Shie Hassaikai Arc would actually largely go unchanged because it is mainly just another internship for the Hero Course students, with the only change to the arc being the League involvement being removed, even though this would leave some plot holes, which I will fill by saying the small unorganized Stain followers would take the place of the league (since Toga and Twice are apart of the Stain followers group, so they would still end up working for them, filling the same rolls they had in the original Arc). Also Overhaul doesn't lose his arms because there would be no reason for him to get them ripped off (because there is no League of Villains). ALSO this means Eri would be canon to the BNHA OC Comeback, which I wanted to mention since from my knowledge she is a fan favorite. After that, the Remedial Course would go unchanged.

I'm also going to say that Mirio will have already gotten his quirk back during the main events of the AU, since Nighteye had predicted that he would get it back before Nighteye had died. How he gets it back will likely go unanswered, since I have not read ahead to the most recent chapter of the manga, only watching the anime, so we should leave the answer to how he got it back to be unclear just in case he gets it back in a spoiler-y way.

Then, lastly as of right now, the rest of the arcs would go unchanged up untill the latest arc where Todoroki, Midoriya, and Bakugo are interning with Endeavor, excluding the parts of the arc going into the Meta Liberation War, which can not properly go through thanks to their being no League of Villains, but especially because there is no Tomura.

Alright now we get to the stuff some of you are here for, being the new info and timeline stuff that occurs during the year Class 1-X and 1-Y are first years. First off, Class 1-A and Class 1-B would now be third years, which was a concept brought up in the original post that cause my brain to go into theory mode.

I would also like to pose the idea of a new "Big Three", replacing Mirio Togata, Tamaki Amajiki, and Nejire Hado (and also the nameless "Big Three" from when 1-A/1-B had been second years in this AU) since 1-A and 1-B are now all third years. This new "Big Three" would be made up of Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, and Izuku Midoriya, seeing as out of Class 1-A and Class 1-B, those three have shown to be the most consistent heavy hitters (and also being the most relevant to the original plot).

Aside from that, Class 1-A and 1-B would not be doing that much in the AU aside from the new "Big Three" occasionally helping out the first year Hero Course students with their studies.

Anyway if you read this far I really appreciate it. I have some more ramblings about stuff in the tags, but its more side stuff that doesn't really effect this AU within another AU.

#bnha oc comeback #skiduffle #long post #hoo boy did i go a little over board here #this is mainly a bunch of head canons on my part of what could possibly happen with the original story since there where some retcons #since not everyone is super familiar with all of the story of My Hero since the AU is just here to let people play around in the setting #But man do I have quite the habit of going crazy with theories #best comparison that i think a lot of the people will get is how deku would get super analytic whenever discussing quirks #thats basically me when i'm in theory crafting mode #but i don't plan on theorizing how to work around other story arcs #not because i don't want to #its more of a time thing #this is pretty much all i've been working on all day tbh #since we don't know the time his fight with All Might took place #so my attempt to fix some lore might have also messed up some of the lore in the au #bonus: the meme at the top of the post is probably my favorite part of the post #i'll probably redesign my sona at some point though #so the meme will not be the most accurate #anyway that's enough speculating for me

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