#girl help. is this how im meant to tag for this fandom???

[tonia-aaaaa]

Mild redesigns for some of my faves bc it is truly tragic that there are exactly 0 (zero) genshin characters with any sort of curly hair

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

I do kinda hope we get a sequel, it’d be nice to be able to talk about Lorabetta again

[bananaman-mp3]

[ID: A screenshot of a reblog with the blog's url and profile picture scribbled outin red that reads: "...conditionally and only if you never disagree with them? O.o"

the tags underrneath read: "#it never stops baffling me #how fandom turned these two into some idea of love #when the story is literall Naruto obsessign over Sasuke who is not interrsted #and then beating him almost to death because Sasuke doesn't think genocide is good pooitcal move actually #like FFS pls read more mangas people" End ID]

are you serious... if naruto only loved him conditionally why did he risk everything to save him, even when everyone else was set on killing him for being a traitor to konoha?

the guy threw his dignity away, in the eyes of everyone, to defend public enemy #1

he always called sasuke his friend, he never stated that he would only consider him a friend only if he returned as a konoha ninja.

loves him conditionally my ass.

and like- the idea that naruto can only love people that never disagree with him is so fundamentally against his character it's almost comical. if that were true naruto wouldve simply killed nagato. he wouldn't have tried to understand him or talk him out of it the way he did, once he heard his story. he wouldn't have tried talking to obito either. or even neji, konohamaru and inari, as small as those moments look in comparison.

the obsession part would make more sense, given how much he thought about him and wanted him back, to the point even his friends and the girl who was in love with sasuke thought it was too much.

yet the part about naruto beating sasuke up is... weird. they do realize naruto was fighting him because sasukes idea of a revolution meant to martyr himself for the sake of peace, the way his brother did, right?

they do realize that sasuke wanted to kill him at that point too, right? that it wasn't naruto beating a defenseless sasuke, right?

if anything, naruto was leaning on the defensive side and sasuke was the one trying to beat him up. but the were pretty fucking tied in terms of power. thats why he came close to killing sasuke (and viceversa. stop treating sasuke like a weakling.)

now, that doenst mean naruto is completely in the right to simply undermine or ignore konohas wrongdoing just because it only fuels the cycle of violence. naruto himself is victim of konohas shit system, and he has acknowledged many of the problems it caused. he promised to nagato that hed help amegakure when he became hokage.

of course you could argue that narutos methods may not be as effective for change as sasukes more aggressive plan, since systemic change is rarely if ever achievable by working within it. but im not that good with politics so i dont think im the best to talk about it, and that already goes beyond the topic here.

sasukes violent reaction to konohas mistreatment of the uchiha was completely understandable and anyone in his place wouldve don the same. lets make that clear here. i think saying he was highly justified is not a controversial take, at least here. konoha and the shinobi system ARE fucked up.

also, love that 'sasuke is not interested' bit. op, why did sasuke want to kill naruto? tell me.

me when im not interested:

so yeah i think that's a pretty inaccurate take on sasukes feelings towards naruto.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Lonely In a Crowded Room [Part One]

Fandom: American Actor, RPF, Elvis Movie RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Reader, Red West, Billy Smith Marty Lacker, Original Female Characters, Memphis Mafia, Austin!Elvis 

Word Count: 4979 // Rating: Mature

Summary: Have you ever felt alone in a room full of people? 

Tags/ Warnings: Established Relationship, Marriage, Graceland, Living at Graceland, Kisses, Anxiety, Nudity, Memphis Mafia, Austin!Elvis, Elvis Movie, Horse-riding,  Kissing, Fingering, Birthdays, Birthday Party, Romantic Getaways, Loneliness, Migraines, Football, Elvis Playing Football is so hot I cant, Presents, Reader Can be Priscilla if you want, Arguing, Fighting, Flashing, 

Notes: im obsessed with graceland at the moment but the idea of so many people coming and going in my house is my idea of hell. So i thought I’d write about it lolol

this will be two parts maybe more depending on how carried away i get

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE

My head was pounding. A pain seared through my brain in one spot as if I had been struck on the head by something. I was prone to migraines and though they only happened every once in a while when they hit they were something to behold. This one had grabbed hold of me whilst I was at a dress shop downtown shopping with my girlfriends. I had just clapped my eyes on a beautiful emerald satin dress, something I was desperate to try on for my upcoming birthday dinner this weekend, but I couldn’t. I was overcome with pain. Suddenly everything was too bright and too loud, and a wave of nausea hit me just a quick. The girls had noted my immediate displeasure and I offered them a quick apology as I decided to call it a day.

By the time I got to Graceland, I wanted nothing more than to climb into bed. Unfortunately, there was a crowd around the gate, as usual when Elvis was home, and as I slowed down as they gathered around my car. I knew they were probably disappointed it was just me which thankfully meant they let me move through the gates after a couple of ‘hellos’ and a few signatures

I parked up and hauled my bags out of the passenger seat before I headed up and through the front door. Thankfully, there was no one in the living room or dining room when I came in though I could hear the sounds of people outside or deeper in the large house. I trudged upstairs and into our bedroom, dumping my bags by the door as I shirked off my dress and tights. I was left in just my underwear but I couldn’t be bothered to change any further and so I clambered into bed, pulling the blankets over me. The room was dark as the curtains were still drawn though it was late in the afternoon. Sometimes Elvis’ being almost nocturnal did have its advantages.

I had just closed my eyes and the absence of light immediately working wonders when I felt a beam of fluorescents hit my face as I heard the sound of a door opening. As I opened my eyes I spotted Elvis coming out of the bathroom looking surprised to see me.

‘Hey doll,’ he said, ‘thought you were out shopping?’ ‘I was,’ I said as he perched himself on the bed beside my legs, ‘had to come back early. Headache.’ ‘Another migraine?’ he said with a frown. He reached out and pushed my hair off of my forehead, the metal of his rings cool against my forehead which helped. ‘Mmmhmm,’ I said my eyes fluttering closed at his touch. ‘Want me to get you anything?’ he said. ‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m just going to take a nap.’ ‘Okay honey,’ he said leaning down to kiss me on the forehead. I closed my eyes, willing the pain to go away, as he got up off the bed. I heard him move around the room and then I heard the clink of something beside me so I peeked and found him placing a glass of water on the nightstand. I smiled at him and he smiled back, stroking my cheek gently. Then he headed to the door and closed it gently whilst I settled down and willed sleep to come.

The next thing I knew I was being awoken by the sound of shouting from below. I stirred, warm and uncomfortable. The throb in my head had lessened a lot but it was still there in the background and as I checked the clock on my nightstand and found I had only been asleep half an hour. I tried to lie back down and ignore whatever was happening on the floor below but then there was a slam of the door and I couldn’t stop myself. I clambered out of bed and grabbed my robe off the back of my vanity chair, throwing it on and storming downstairs. Though as my foot hit the bottom step I was almost bowled over as Billy came running through the hall and out the open front door.

‘Come back here you son of a bitch,’ Red shouted, barrelling through seconds later. I could hear jeers from the boys outside and I padded through the hall I found them outside on the grass playing football. Elvis was bent double with laughter watching as Red took Billy down with a thud, the ball fumbling out of his hands and onto the grass. From where they were I couldn’t hear them speaking but I could tell they were having fun and I felt bad for disturbing their game. Elvis noticed me lingering by the door and came jogging over.

‘Everything alright honey?’ he said taking the steps in a couple of big leaps until he was standing in front of me. He was in jeans and a sweater and his forehead was sticky with sweat though there was an autumn chill in the air. ‘Yeah,’ I said quietly. ‘How’s your head?’ he said stroking my face tenderly. ‘A little better,’ I said. ‘Couldn’t sleep?’ he asked, concern swirling around his bright blue eyes. ‘Actually,’ I said biting my lip, ‘I got woken up.’ ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘well don’t worry about it. I’ll keep them out of the house from now and we’ll move further afield. You just get yourself back to bed baby.’ ‘Thanks,’ I said leaning into to give him a quick kiss. He smiled into it and then pulled back throwing me a wink before he turned and ran back towards the boys. I watched as he instructed them to move away from the house and then I trudged back upstairs. I slipped the robe off and clambered back into bed hoping that I could get relaxed enough that I could go back to sleep.

I could feel the weight of sleep creeping in. The pain behind my eyelids ebbing as slumber pulled me under. Then I was snapped back to reality as I heard the crash of glass nearby and yelling coming towards the house. I shot up and flew to the window spying out to see what the commotion was and I spotted several people crowded around a now broken downstairs window. With a sigh I sat down on the bed and fumbled through the top drawer of my nightstand looking for an aspirin. It looked as if sleep was not on the agenda.

✵✵✵

After my disturbed nap, my day was pretty much written off. Luckily, my headache waned but I stayed up in my bedroom rather miffed at the boys. I knew it wasn’t their fault. They couldn’t help that I had a headache but I had watched Elvis tell them to move away from the house and they had still managed to disturb me.

And it wasn’t that I minded having them around all the time. Having family so close and friends around all the time always meant that there was someone to talk to. Someone to have a laugh with. But it also meant that there was constant noise, people in and out at all hours of the day, and sometimes unfamiliar faces that you were just expected to accept.

Eventually, I fell asleep and when I awoke I found Elvis tucked in behind me, his arm slung over my waist as he breathed gently on the back of my neck. I smiled and nestled back into him. I was in and out of sleep for a couple more hours before I woke up completely and couldn’t lull myself back in. Elvis was now sleeping on his back with me cuddled into his side, but as I looked at the clock on the nightstand I found it was far too early to wake him. I watched him sleeping peacefully for a second. His lips were parted and his eyelids fluttered a little as I moved but he didn’t disturb as I slipped out of his grasp and donned my robe again.

I slipped out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen. My stomach growled loudly as I stepped over the threshold and I suddenly realised that I hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Suddenly, all I could think of was food. And I knew what I wanted. I had specifically asked for our housekeeper, Mary, to pick some up when she went grocery shopping a couple of days ago. Frozen waffles.

She had looked at me gobsmacked when I had asked. After all, she was an elite cook and the idea that I would ask her to buy something which in her eyes was substandard rather than ask her to make me some was ridiculous to her but I didn’t care. Sometimes the only thing you wanted was something sweet and artificial. I ran to the freezer and yanked the door open with excitement. My eyes scanned down each shelf until I spotted the familiar cardboard packet sitting at the bottom. I pulled the box out and started to open it but as I did I noticed it felt remarkably light. Too light in fact. As I wrenched the flap open I found that the box was empty.

My hands frantically moved things around the freezer, checking each shelf for another box but there was none. Not only had someone eaten them before I had a chance but they’d had the cheek to throw the box back in the freezer when it was empty. My annoyance from yesterday returned and I slammed the freezer door closed.

‘Woah,’ Mary said as she came into the kitchen, ‘what’s the problem sugar?’ ‘Someone ate my waffles,’ I grumbled taking a seat on a stool as she moved into the kitchen and stood opposite me, resting her hands on the counter. ‘Well I can always whip you something up, probably be better than that trash anyway,’ she said with a small smile. I smiled back and nodded as I tried to push the disappointment off my face. Mary and I chatted for a bit before she placed a plate of waffles in front of me and told me she was going to do some laundry. I ate them and though they were exquisite my longing for cheap processed rubbish wasn’t quite satiated. I slid off the stool and washed my plate putting it back just as Jerry entered the kitchen.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Hey,’ I said with a small smile. ‘How’s the head this morning?’ he asked as he moved in beside me grabbing a glass from the cabinet so he could make a drink. ‘Better,’ I said. ‘Then how come you look like something’s pissed you off?’ he chuckled, looking at me with a smirk. ‘Someone ate my waffles,’ I said. ‘The frozen ones?’ he said. I nodded, ‘yeah I think the guys had them after football yesterday. Sorry, we didn’t know they were yours.’ ‘It’s fine,’ I lied, ‘except someone put the box back just to add to my misery.’ ‘Not guilty,’ he smirked as he took a sip of his glass of water. I rolled my eyes. That was another problem of living with so many people. Whenever something was amiss it was never the fault of whoever you asked.

Yet I didn’t want to argue with him so instead I mumbled my goodbyes and smiled at him and then headed out of the kitchen wandering back upstairs. I decided not to wake Elvis as it was still early for him and instead I headed to the spare en-suite and treated myself to a bath. I lay there for a while, allowing the annoyances of yesterday and this morning to wash away. I also decided to treat myself to a full spa-style treatment and shaved, exfoliated and preened every bit of me within an inch of its life. I spent longer than I anticipated in there and soon enough the water turned tepid and I was forced to get out. I wrapped myself up in a towel and crept to the bedroom door. Our bedroom didn’t have a bath in it so I was forced to use the spare room whenever I wanted one and then forced to make the dash from the spare room to my dressing room which sometimes proved difficult. I could hear voices somewhere in the house but they sounded far enough away that I decided to risk it and jogged to the office and into my dressing room. I stayed wrapped in my towel as I did my skincare routine and dried my hair. Once I was sorted and my makeup was on, I picked my outfit out and placed it on a chair in the office. I loved my dressing room but it wasn’t always big enough to get dressed.

Just as I pulled my towel off, the door swung open and Red burst in. He noticed me immediately, standing in front of him completely nude, and as I shrieked and wrapped my towel back around me he dropped his gaze.

‘Jeez, don’t you knock?!’ I snapped. ‘Sorry, I was just coming to get something,’ Red said with a smirk as his eyes travelled down my body. My crabbiness from this morning immediately returned beating down any embarrassment I was feeling about being seen naked. ‘Yeah well maybe next time you should check to see if anyone's inside before you come barging in,’ I snapped. ‘What in the office?’ he said sarcastically which amped me up even further. ‘You know my dressing room is attached Red,’ I said. ‘That ain’t my fault. Anyway maybe you should pick a better spot to strip off,’ he said. ‘So you’re going to tell me when and where I can go in my own house?’ I said my voice considerably higher in pitch.

Just as Red went to respond Elvis appeared at the door behind him looking confused. He was still in his pyjamas, the noise probably waking him. ‘What’s all this about?’ he said looking between us both. ‘Red came barging in on me-‘ ‘It was an accident I told her,’ Red said cutting me off, ‘your daddy asked for those papers. I said I’d seen them in the office so I just ran up to get them.’ ‘He could’ve knocked,’ I said my gaze pleading with Elvis who looked between us trying to assess who to upset as he picked a side. ‘Just grab the documents Red,’ he said coming into the room. Red came inside and fumbled around on the desk for a moment grabbing a couple of manila envelopes before he left. Elvis smiled at me though it turned down as he noted my pursed lips.

‘You’re taking his side?’ I scoffed. ‘It was a simple mistake baby,’ he said. ‘So you’re okay with him seeing me naked?’ I asked. His eyes darkened a little and I fought the urge to smile. I knew him so well I knew his jealousy would pique as soon as I mentioned me naked. His hands migrated out towards me pulling me into him by my hips and I could tell my lure hadn’t worked as he sighed and said, ‘he was just coming into the office. I’m sure there was nothing to it.’ ‘Maybe he should think before he storms into rooms in houses he doesn’t live in,’ I scoffed. ‘Baby don’t be like that. You know he wasn’t being no creep. And if we had somewhere else to put your dressing room we would,’ he whispered leaning down to place a kiss on my forehead. I allowed him to but my mood was back and I pouted my way through the embrace. He captured my chin with his index finger tilting it up so I would look at him. I got what he was saying but it was also true that Red should’ve respected this house a bit more. Or that we’d have plenty of space if Elvis didn’t let any Tom, Dick or Harry have a room here.

‘Now,’ he purred with a cheeky glint in his eye, ‘do I get to see what’s under the towel or was that peep show just for Red?’ ‘Oh you can see what’s under the towel,’ I said unknotting it once more. Elvis moved his hands to let it fall to the ground but as he reached for me again I moved out of his way, ‘and you can watch it get dressed because who knows how long it’ll be before we’re interrupted again.’

I grabbed my underwear and yanked them on before donning the dress I’d picked for the day. Elvis watched me intently his eyes roving over my frame as I covered it up. Once I was dressed I went to my dressing table so I could put a different set of earrings in. As I did Elvis came up behind me and embraced me from behind. I could feel him through my dress and his silk pyjamas, all worked up with nowhere to go.

‘We’ll look at that,’ he said as I straightened up leaning back into him, ‘that’s what? Near five minutes of peace and we wasted it.’ ‘You think you could get it done in five minutes,’ I chuckled leaning into him more as he kissed my neck chuckling at my comment. ‘I bet I could,’ he said. ‘Well-‘ I started but as I did I heard his name called from behind the office door. ‘What?’ he shouted a little too close to my ear which made me wince. There was muffled shouting that couldn’t be distinguished and with a sigh, he pulled away from me and headed to the door to open it. ‘What?’ he said gruffly and I peeped to the door to see Marty hanging out in the hall.

‘Sorry to bother you, boss,’ Marty said glancing at me before he lowered his voice indicating this was something I wasn’t part of. I busied myself sorting my jewellery back into its box. I’d already made a farce of myself in front of one of the boys today. I didn’t need anyone else seeing me in a bad mood. Eventually, I heard Elvis say, ‘baby?’ ‘Mmm?’ I asked turning to look at him as he came towards me. ‘I’ve got some things to sort out but I’ll be back soon okay?’ ‘Okay,’ I said trying to hide the disappointment in my voice. I was right. Less than ten minutes together before he was pulled away once more. Elvis leaned in and kissed me tenderly, before whispering, ‘maybe you can give me another viewing of the lil show you put together later?’ ‘Maybe,’ I smirked. He kissed me once more and then he was headed out of the office already wittering away to Marty.

Looks like I had the day to myself.

✵✵✵

Elvis was gone for most of the day though I supposed it was for the best as I was still a little irked about the morning's events. I busied myself with little things that needed to be sorted for my birthday dinner and then I decided to spend the afternoon out horse riding, away from the confines of the house. It was late when I got back and Elvis was home, in the den with some of the boys. He smiled as I entered and beckoned me to him pulling me onto his lap when I got close.

‘Hey,’ he mumbled kissing me on the end of my nose. The boys carried on chattering around us unfazed by our PDA. ‘Hey,’ I said sweeping his hair off his face. ‘Missed you,’ he said with a small smile, ‘Mary said you went out riding?’ ‘Yeah, I’ve not been out in a while. I figured I’d take Lady out before it starts getting too cold,’ I shrugged. He nodded. ‘You know if you’d have waited I’d have come with you,’ he said, ‘you know I don’t like you out there all on your own.’ ‘I’m fine,’ I said. He always worried about me when we were out riding even though I’d become the better rider over the years as he rarely had time to go out as he wanted. ‘I know, I know,’ he chuckled lowering his voice a little as he said, ‘it would’ve given us a chance to catch up on this morning though.’ ‘Is that so?’ I giggled. He smirked back at me as his hand caressed my thigh. ‘You say that as if that barn hasn’t already seen its fair share of-’ ‘Supper’s on,’ Mary said cutting Elvis off mid-sentence. She was standing in the doorway beckoning everyone to head into the dining room. The boys leapt up and headed to follow her but I didn’t. I looked at him with a small smile and slid off his lap to stand. I reached my hand out and pulled him up and we walked to the dining room hand in hand.

After dinner, Elvis told me he was going to spend some time rehearsing with Charlie and so I was left to my own devices. I headed upstairs and got into bed where I watched some TV until I dozed off. When I woke it was nearly 1 am and no matter which way I tried I couldn’t get back to sleep. The bed beside me was cold and empty. After a few attempts, I decided it was fruitless and climbed out of bed. I headed downstairs and found it deserted as expected but I wandered from room to room until I found him. Sitting at the piano in the music room, tinkling the keys gently.

He turned his head a little at the sound of me coming into the room but he didn’t turn around completely. Even with so many people in and out of the house, we could always tell when the other was nearby. I walked up behind him and bent down so I was holding him from behind, my head on his shoulder.

‘Hi,’ he mumbled straining to look at me before his gaze fell back on the keys. ‘Hi,’ I replied kissing him on the cheek. ‘How come you’re up?’ ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ I said, ‘I miss you.’ ‘Yeah?’ he said with a small smile. ‘Yeah,’ I yawned. ‘I know what you mean. I feel like we’ve barely seen each other today,’ he said. As I nodded he chuckled, ‘but we can always make up for that.’

He moved to stand up grabbing me by the hand so I came to stand in front of him. He watched me for a moment with adoring eyes before he stroked my cheek tenderly and pulled me to him leaning in to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and allowed him to. As he kissed me deeper I moaned a little not realising how starved of his touch I had felt today. He smirked at the noise that came for me as his hands caressed my skin under my nightdress. He pushed me backwards and I fell onto the piano, the keys groaning underneath me as my weight hit them. Yet his interest in the piano was gone now though. He was pawing at me, pulling my nightie down so I was exposed to him as he kissed down my neck and chest.

‘Elvis,’ I groaned as my head flopped back enjoying the sensation of his mouth on my warm skin. My fingers combed through his soft hair knotting in it every time he hit a sensitive spot. I could feel him, rigid against my thigh, as he moved his hips trying to get some friction against him. My fingers moved from his hair and started undoing his shirt buttons as quickly as I could. Once he noticed what I was doing he changed tact. His fingers traced down my front until he was fiddling with the waistband of my panties.

‘Did you really miss me baby?’ he cooed in my ear as his fingers breached my underwear and started to tease between my slick folds. ‘All day,’ I panted as I pushed my hips up against his touch. ‘Look at you all ready for me,’ he said. ‘Please,’ I begged as his thumb swiped across my clit. Elvis smirked and then looked down towards his trousers hinting for me to start. I pulled him towards me by his belt working to undo it as I did so. Elvis’ hand teased me slowly and languidly as I tried to get him exposed. Then just as I had unzipped him there was a noise from behind him.

‘I couldn’t find any pickles but-’ Charlie said as he came into the living room. He stopped as he looked up catching us red-handed. Elvis pulled away, standing in front of me as I covered up quickly.

‘Sorry, I didn’t know y’all were...’ ‘It’s okay man,’ Elvis said. My cheeks were beet red and though my clothes were on properly now I still felt exposed in just my nightdress. Charlie placed the plates on the coffee table as Elvis looked at me with an apologetic smile but my irritation was back and a whole lot worse than before.

‘You knew he was here?’ I asked folding my arms across my chest. ‘Well yeah,’ he said, ‘but-’ ‘What are you playing a new game or something? Let's see how many people can see me naked in one day?’ I spat. ‘What?’ Charlie said as his eyebrows shot towards his hairline. ‘Of course not!’ Elvis said throwing his hands on his hips as he looked at me angrily. ‘So you just forgot he was coming back?’ I said. ‘Funnily enough, my mind was elsewhere,’ Elvis implored. ‘I should go,’ Charlie said. ‘No you shouldn’t,’ Elvis said looking at him and then at me. His jaw tightened as he did. ‘Yeah I wouldn’t want to interrupt,’ I said storming past him. I stopped as I reached the doorway and turned looking at them both, ‘enjoy your sandwich.’

I bolted upstairs and slammed the bedroom door behind me resting on it for a moment before I went and sat down on the bed. My chest heaved as I tried to my jumbled feelings in some sort of order. I was embarrassed no doubt but I was also embarrassed that I had gone off on Elvis when I hadn’t meant to.

I heard movement downstairs and then the door was opening and Elvis was stepping through it a thunderous expression on his face. The door clunked closed behind him and he folded his arms across his chest watching me for a moment before he said, ‘you wanna tell me what the hell that was about?’ ‘You wanna tell me why you seem intent to let all your friends see me naked today?’ I retaliated. ‘That’s not what happened and you know it,’ he said, ‘besides there’s something else going on here I know it.’ ‘Aren’t you perceptive,’ I scoffed. ‘You’re not helping,’ he said. ‘Never said I was trying to,’ I said. ‘Are you going to tell me or are you just going to keep moaning like a child?’ ‘You wanna know?’ ‘Yeah!’ he shouted. ‘Fine!’ I shouted, ‘I hate living in this stupid house.’

Elvis’ eyes went wide and clamped my mouth shut as soon as the words flew out of it. I went to him and put my hands on his chest. The buttons of his shirt were fastened though a lot lower than before after he had had to redress.

‘I didn’t mean that,’ I said quietly. He looked at me sadly and nodded. I sighed and moved back to the bed, him close behind as we took a seat. ‘It’s just,’ I sighed, ‘doesn’t it bother you?’ ‘What?’ he asked watching me as I dropped my gaze to my legs as I fiddled with the chiffon of my night dress. ‘That there’s always someone just….there,’ I said looking back up into his piercing blue eyes. He watched me curiously as if urging me to continue, ‘like I can’t just enjoy living in my own space. Someone’s always gotta barge in or interrupt because they need me or you. There’s always someone making noise. Sometimes, well, these past couple of days in particular it just feels like we never get a minute alone…y’know?’

He nodded as his hand touched my knee gently as I continued, ‘I guess I just get a little self-conscious. Like I’m being watched or something. I mean what if I wanna dance around in my underwear?’ ‘Hey I ain’t stopping ya,’ he chuckled. ‘I bet,’ I giggled and then with a sigh I said, ‘I guess I’m just a lil fed up.’ ‘I get that,’ he said, ‘I guess I just like that everyone feels happy here. I mean growin’ up it was just me and my folks. All the other kids had someone around. Big families with dozens of kids…I guess I want that sorta vibe here.’ ‘And I grew up with all my siblings crammed in one room,’ I chuckled, ‘I guess that explains why I wanna be on my own.’ ‘Even without me?’ he said raising his eyebrows. I giggled and leaned in so we were mere inches apart, ‘never…but I’d just love one night alone y’know? No people. No worrying about anything. Just us.’ ‘Well,’ he said capturing my chin between his thumb and forefinger, ‘it’s just us now…’ ‘That’s true,’ I mused as he leaned in and kissed me. It was chaste and quick and when he pulled back he was beaming a smile. I bit my lip for a second and then said, ‘but until we’re truly alone we’re gonna have to be quiet.’

[cerealmonster15]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

ty for the tag @unpredictable-probabilities! I don't usually do tag things but I'm feeling an exception today and I want to ramble lol let's GO!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Right now, 51! I think i started using ao3 back in college with rvb fic lol. I've since orphaned 2 fics so I guess there wouldve been 53.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

86,956

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, mostly just Twisted Wonderland (and the occasional dndads, I still have a fic in my brain I kinda wanna write for that). Twst was kinda my comeback to wanting to write fics and has been my main inspiration for a lot of things and it's been the most fun i've had writing fics I think, and it's eventually what's gotten me to try to write my first multi chapter fic.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Slip Ups and Lift Ups (Stardew Valley) 444 Kudos 2. A Fishy Intervention (TWST) 354 Kudos 3. Company (TWST) 249 Kudos 4. Security Cauldron (TWST) 248 Kudos [my first twst fic i think? also has some errors in it teehee oopsie] 5. Because I Care (TWST) 234 Kudos

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes!!! I think I didn't used to? Maybe because I felt weird about my own comments changing the comment count and like it was somehow lying lol. but that's silly and i like talking to people and I Need people to Know that i Love Their Comments

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hmmm I do not write much angst, and even when I do it's more hurt/comfort, bc permasads make ME permasad. I think it was my rvb fic "forgotten" - which i always forget was my first fic uploaded to ao3 LOL, back in 2015. ironic that my first wasnt reflective of the tone i usually write for. i don't wanna reread it to check [even tho my fics from back then are WAY shorter] bc im scared to face how i wrote when i was fresh outta hs lol BUT if i remember correctly/based on the summary, it was a doc/donut fic and I think it was about how after doc had disappeared from the future cube or whatever in canon and no one knew he was gone, i wrote a scene of doc getting upset with donut bc Of All People Why Didnt You Notice I Thought I Meant Something To You 😔 kdlsjfkdlsj i think it ended with doc walking off and donut being SAD and idk maybe they broke up, idr if they were 'officially dating' in the context of that fic. but um hashtag docnut for life.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most all of my fics are happy endings with an exception of like one ^ or two lol. I don't know if i can quantify those!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not to my face if I do lol. I don't think enough people know about me to give a shit if i do stuff they dont like

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

nope!!!! i dont really like smut personally and it's not the kind of genre i have story ideas for.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't think i've ever done that 🤔

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

not that I know of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

girl help i cannot choose. um. well first shout out again to rvb's docnut bc u will always be strong and married in my heart. and in dndads im an oakworthy truther til i die BUT for twst. twst beloved twst i am in that pitfall of i like 50000 different ships. jamiazu is the one i write and draw the most LOL and theyre def a top fave HOWEVER. god. treycater alters my brain chemistry. rookvil marriage real. adeuce beloved fool duo for life. im physically restraining myself from mentioning more KLFJDSKLFJS especially when we get into the multiship/poly web bc god we will be here all day. i can and will be enabled but this post is already long enough GOODBYE!!!!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

oooh ok well there was a dndads oakworthy thing I started like last year but pretty soon after I started it, we started seeing more of hermies forbidden other 'true' personality traits and i was like ruh roh this guy keeps pulling a fast one on me, i dont think the direction i had with this fic is fitting anymore. i had barely gotten anywhere with it and it wouldve been short anyway, but i think about what couldve been.... lololol and then for TWST umm. Hehe. Teehee even. Back during nanowrimo I used that as time to start 2 fics: kalim and the great relationship rescue, which is my current multichap fic about kalisil and jamiazu, it’s got about 3 chapters, and I’m still writing it. AND IM STILL GOING TO FINISH THAT ONE!!! but the OTHER one I started during that time and have NOT posted any of it yet was the stuff with my first twst oc, Char, and his place in my big caterella multiverse ideas lol. I’ve posted a bit about that story idea and done a lot of doodles and brianstorming for it, but I fear it would be too intimidatingly ambitious to stick to and I’m not sure writing one concrete fic is the right medium for it 🤔 plus I just don’t think many people would like it much LOL it would be very self indulgent and tapping into my soap opera brain. I feel nervous when I talk about it HAHDBFNTG so I’m not sure I could commit. But I still have what I wrote, and maybe I’ll figure out another way to go with it or maybe I’ll just wake up one day and say WHATEVER and write it anyway lol. I’ve gotten shyer again so we’ll see 🧍

16. What are your writing strengths?

umm. i do not know if it is a strength but i feel more light comedy and dialogue come more 'naturally' to me, but i do not know how well i actually can pull it off LOL also shorter, contained stories. Everything I write is a one shot, and I’m struggling on my recent attempt at a multiple chapter fic BDBFFBFNGD

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

hrhrnrngm more descriptive writing, i find im in the pitfalls of writing TOO MUCH dialogue. and i also feel like when i try to do more serious tone things it comes off as cringe or trying too hard kFDKLSHFLDSJ. no one's said that to me but yknow. fear and whatnot. also ending the story is. Hard. I feel like that’s always a weak part of my fics bc I sit there like WELL I WROTE ALL MY IDEAS HOW DO I WRAP THIS UP…. I worry my endings come off kind of half assed but I do my best lol 😔✌️

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

like are you asking if i would do it? or how i feel when it's done in fics i read? i dunno lol. i could maybe do spanish bc ive studied it a lot but i'd get nervous i think.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

on ao3 it was rvb bu teeeechnically back in my neoseeker forums days i was in there writing like, animal crossing or harvest moon or pokemon stuff. it was very bad bc i was like 10 years old LOL

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

ohoho ummmm. Well I always have fun writing jamiazu and I’ve written a LOT of those lol. I have a soft spot for The Comfort of Familiarity. That’s one of the ones hats taken me the longest to write because I was really trying hard to handle it with care, as it was a less light tone than I typically do and I was trying to explore the characters and their situation in a particular way that I really wanted to come across well with who reads it. It was hard, and I’m not sure I fully got there, but ultimately I did like it quite a a bit. on the flipside, one of my more recent fics and I think now my longest oneshot to date, Blue Raspberry Mango was VERY fun to write lol. That one’s a lot more like what I typically write, silly romcom style lmao. Cater and Idia goofing, characters bickering, friendship, me trying to sneak in as many side ships into the background for funsies, jamiazu is there, it was a good time. And that one started as a prompt suggestion which I feel like often times I end up struggling with and not delivering super well… but this one ran away from me and I had a blast lol. Idikei fixed me 😌✌️

Ty for tagging me! Umm. I am too scared to tag other people 🧍 goodbye jk @officialgleamstar 🫵 You Do It

[sorry if I missed any typos or autocorrect, part of this was on my phone and I always miss SOMETHING lol]

[dirhwangdaseul-archived]

btw what is with everyone in the tags going like "let women do-" as if the show isnt working as a critic of these fully grown women refusing to fucking ask for help for shit to the point they break their families and get cancer and die from it because they couldn't have cared for themselves earlier or burden others with the task of loving them and caring for them so either.... like... girls... they're already doing everything and anyone they want to lmfao, we don't have to let them do shit they're disgusting without anyone's aid.... so with that in mind i think it'd serve more as an audience to talk about why and how some of the things presented onscreen are truly fucked up because too many are not grasping the gravity of the things onscreen while trying to play barbies with them and yes i am zeroing in:

specially if you're white in a cast with girls of color, ignoring the very real differences of the effect of the violence being experienced in the wildnerness is not something you get to do

just because race as a separate issue isn't textually very explicit, doesn't mean you get ignore it, the writers have actually integrated a lot with visual storytelling and the way the teenage yellowjackets dress and care for themselves out there in the wilderness, as well as what that has meant for their treatment in society and with themselves and other girls of color, it is sadly in the subtleties a lot, too much, because the writers indeed went too implicit for my liking but it is there and white fandom refuses to engage with that when it's fully part of the text, it is a thing here, race is a component in this horror, if you're white it is your responsibility to not put these onto others and look inside as to why you won't touch that part of the show when it allows for a complete understanding of characters like lottie and taissa, like even with the fragmented bts, there's a lot to critic already both good and bad when you take that into account for them, and it permeates a lot of what they do, because its a story, everything is magnified, of courses in their race matters and if the writers truly didn't give a fuck, then it would matter because it means, we, the audience, have to care, yes, it is a responsibility, with that word, but it's about truly holding a mirror to. ourselves when looking at them, you're basically failing at this im sorry when you refuse the full parts of their identities, cause i bet you do that irl too, always remember, fiction is reality for is a part of it, don't be so quick to dismiss the lives of these women, im sorry but there's very little safe way to engage with a show entrenched so deeply in a culture of trauma, be aware of your own attitudes toward if because it does reflect you, that's all

on god you arent watching this shit uncritically specially if you're white, you don't get to do so

[dyketubbo]

EDIT (10/7/21, og post made in August)

editing this post since apparently people are still finding it but anyways while im not going to take the post down because i personally just dont like deleting posts and i still agree with some of the things said id prefer that if you find this post that you just. didnt interact with it, at least not if youre not going to be respectful. this post is from august, before the clip of phil saying hes fine w qpr hcs (even if i have complicated feelings on that clip, i dont want to risk getting into discourse about this shit again).

it started a giant discussion and got me people harassing me and talking behind my back, one person even telling me people had groups talking about me, it got me being called arophobic, anti-polyam, claimed i was calling people racist and misogynistic, i got told i didnt have friends, i had people vague me and misinterpret what i said and meant, and through it all i had a total of maybe two or three people at most that disagreed with me and were respectful about it. everyone else that disagreed either resorted to vaguing me (or others that stood by me) or they insulted me to my face (in some cases insulting me then blocking me so i couldnt respond).

many of these people were adults. i had recently turned 16 the month before. i dont mean to pull the whole "oo im a minor and neurodivergent" card but the shit that came from this post, that had at the time barely even reached over 500 notes at the discourse's height, genuinely made me relapse in a way that i just. couldnt handle. i was on meds, i took care of my pets, i distracted myself, i talked to my friends, even talked to my therapist, and it didnt help because every time i came back i found another person giving me shit for it. one of my friends tried to defend me and got people targeting them, insulting them and saying increasingly concerning things about me, and they had to leave the fandom for a bit because of it.

i dont trust a good portion of the fandom because of this mess. i dont trust a lot of big blogs or aeduo fans or techno fans or phil fans because of this. its genuinely concerning to me that a post like this caused harassment, even in places i havent seen, maybe even to people i havent seen. even if this post is still vaguely accurate to how i feel about the situation (mainly, how i feel about it all overshadowing kristin and phils relationship) and i still stand by my idea that qprs count as shipping and that because they arent strictly platonic for many people that i cant be comfortable with qp aeduo, i just. dont want people interacting with this, at least not unless you just want to spread the info in this edit or because you want to say something respectfully. otherwise, i just. want this to be left behind me. even to this day i still get paranoia spikes and nearly panic remembering everything that happened because of this post, and being reminded of it just. sucks. if you want to clear anything up feel free to contact me in some way, but if you see this in the tags while browsing somehow, sorry for the long post, and thank you if you read all of this. have a good day

End of Edit (all text below unedited from when the post was originally made)

btw since kristins been confirmed to be canon multiple times over the past like few months and philza has expressed discomfort with shipping content that isnt him and his literal wife can we as a fandom agree to fucking quit it with treating c!emeraldduo as anything other than friends/family ^^ thatd be great. and yes i mean even the fuckin "platonic" marriage shit, even qpr hcs, just let them be friends.

please god stop acting as if a m/m relationship is inherently better than a m/f relationship especially considering how fuckin shittily the fandom treats kristin already, constantly making her out to be some skinny white girl instead of the fat woc she is. just like. let c!emeraldduo be besties, let c!phil and c!kristin be in a happy marriage, quit going against the cc boundaries because you prefer to ship two average white dudes rather than just accept that ones canonically married to the self-insert of his actor's wife. yall all about minorities until ones actually involved and then suddenly its all about your precious white cishet dudes. my god.

[noforkingclue]

I'm being self indulgent (is my bday!!!!!) and I really want to ask, may I request a Twelfth Doctor x adopted teen reader? It's reader's birthday and the prompt I want is "For once in your life, what is it you want?" Reader is very selfless and the Doctor doesn't know how to treat them for their special day :)

Please and thank you if you write this!!!!

Happy birthday!!! Birthdays are the time for being self indulgent and I hope you like the fic :D

Title: Just For You

Doctor Who tag list: @v4n1r, @queerconfusionthings, @yourneighbourhoodclown, @love-of-fandoms, @emilythezeldafan, @fabulous-jj-style, @theseeker945, @pleadingeyes, @kjaneway1, @truthbehindthemysteries, @im-a-muggleborn, @startrekkingaroundasgard, @mythandmagik, @geocookie21, @zerocanonlywriteshit, @thewinterpoet2, @anteroom-of-death

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou

You were currently lying on one of the luxurious sofas in the TARDIS. The Doctor was pacing around in front of you and had been for the past five minutes. Suddenly he came to a halt and spun around on his heel. He clicked his fingers at you and said,

“I’ve got it. 1920s, the Ritz. Afternoon tea. Humans like tea right?”

“Yes.” You said

“Great,” he rushed over to you and grabbed your hand, “You know where the closest is. This old girl can help you find an outfit. It’s going to be perfect. I’ll make sure that this’ll be a birthday that you won’t forget!”

“Doc,” you said, “You really don’t have to do this for me.”

“Why not?” the Doctor frowned

“It’s too much.”

“It’s your birthday,” said the Doctor, “You humans have too few. Don’t you always celebrate them, make a big deal about getting older.”

“Thanks for reminding me about that fact.”

“It’s your day,” the Doctor continued, “What do you want to do. We have all of time and space at our fingertips.”

“I don’t know,” you said, “What do you want to do.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want to do.”

“Yes it does,” you insisted, “I don’t want to do something that only I’ll enjoy. You need to enjoy it to.”

The Doctor gave you an unreadable looking before sighing. He sat down and after a brief moment of hesitation took your hand. He patted it gently and said quietly,

“For once in your life, what is it you want?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, although you had the sinking feeling that you knew what he meant

“You have done so much,” the Doctor continued quietly, “You’ve put up for me for so long. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to get along with and I want… I want to show you that I care. To go somewhere that is just for you.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just,” you let out a sigh and looked down, “I’ve always been taught to put the needs of others before myself. It’s hard for me to be selfish.”

“I know,” the Doctor wrapped an arm around you and pulled you next to him, “I know but today is all about you. Anything you want I can do.”

“Anything?” you looked up with a teasing smile

“Within reason,” the Doctor said, “I can’t go back to last week so you can give yourself the answers to that test.”

“Please.”

“No going back on your own timeline.”

“Git.”

“I know you don’t really mean that.”

“I know.”

“So,” said the Doctor, “What do you want to do? Whole of time and space remember?”

“You know,” you gave him a shy smile, “Afternoon tea at the Ritz does sound nice. Very relaxing.”

“Then the Ritz it is,” the Doctor stood up and offered you his arm, “After you.”

You beamed up at him and quickly linked arms. Most people would view your friendship and unusual but you knew that you would never find as good of a friend as the Doctor. You couldn’t have asked for a better friend, knowing that he cared for you just as much as you cared for him.

[world-of-aus]

A Maiden’s Tale - 9

Warnings: angst, & MORE ANGST.

A/n: One chapter more, I can’t believe i’m about to wrap this bad boy, up! This one has been quite the one to write and i can’t wait to deliver the ending to you all. As always happy readings angels!

ALL OTHER WORK CAN BE FOUND ON MY MASTERLIST IN MY BIO.

Your heart raced away in your chest as your feet carried you hurriedly down the halls of the hospital corridor. Door after door you passed as you recited the room number the receptionist had given you beneath your rushed breath.

“138, 139 – 140, your hand reaches for the door, but the scene through the glass paned window stops you.

Your heart slams in your chest, your breath hitching wildly, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, Dot was there hovering over Bucky who was barely keeping his eyes open, his hand over the one running over his cheek in what was meant to be a comforting manner, her lips pressing to his seconds later.

“that is how it is meant to be, that is who my son is meant to be with.”

You still further, body going tense, as your eyes continue to take in the very scene before you, “it should have been you, you know, you should be in his place, you should be the one in that bed, it was your plan after all, you were the heathen in all of this,” she hissed.

Your eyes snap to Winnie’s, “that girl,” she continues finger pointed to the hospital door, “is the one my son is supposed to be with, James is destined to do great things for the family business and its through her, that he will reach them, and she will make sure of it.”

“This isn’t the life Bucky want’s, he doesn’t want to live the life that you have planned out for him.”

Winnifred scoffs, “and what is it that James wants,” she hums, “do you really think he wants you, that he wants a cozy little cottage with vast fields, that he wants to live a boring life, just wasting his days away reading books in a cozy little nook with you, do you really think he prefers a mundane life to the one he lives now, do you really think he prefers the rags over riches, do you really think he prefers you over her?”

Your eyes glance back to the window, Dolores still leaning over the hospital bed, her head now pressed to Bucky’s, as she looks into his eyes in what is likely a loving manner, and Bucky, well from a outsiders gaze he looks at her just the same, and the thought almost knocks you to your feet.

What a fool you were to have believed, to have let Bucky let you believe that his mother and Dolores might let you have this one thing.

“He pity’s you y/n,” Winnifred breathes as she draws closer to you, “that’s why he made the hasty decision to run away with you,” you look at her over your shoulder, tears pooling in your eyes, “he thinks what he feels for you is love when really he just feels bad for the help.” Winnie sighs as she places a hand on your shoulder, “Bucky has always been a helping person y/n, what James feels for you isn’t love; what James feels for you is sadness.”

The first tear falls as you look back to the window, “if you love him y/n, and I know you do, you’ll let him go, you’ll let him live the life he deserves, you’ll let him have his happiness.”

“You want to know how I'd be living if it wasn’t my parents' decision to make, how I'd live it if I wasn’t handed down the name of the family business? I’d be off somewhere far, there would be land all around the cottage not another house in sight, just a vast number of acres and trees, there’d be animals, and a garden and – and there’d be you.”

Winnie pulls you back softly, away from the window, away from the scene, away from Bucky, “go y/n, go and I'll make sure that you and your mother are so well taken care of that you no longer have to worry about work. You and your mother will never have to lift another finger I promise you that, but you need to go, you need to go and let James be happy.”

Your eyes flit over to her, “Bucky will never be happy when the life he’s living is yours, he will never be happy with a woman who can’t see that the life you’ve built for him isn’t the one that he wants, if what you want for your son is misery, then you’ll get exactly what you want.”

Winnie’s eyes widen before they’re turning to slits, “like you know any better what James want’s, you’re just his right-hand y/n, you’re just the help,” she hisses, “you know nothing, you don’t know him like Dolores does.”

You shake your head, steeling yourself heart and soul as you stand tall, head held high, “well apparently you don’t know your son as well as you thought either, I hope you realize sooner than later what you’re doing, and I hope like your husband, that you don’t lose Bucky either.”

Winnie’s nose flares as she glares at you, and you wish you had more strength than the amount you mustered to look back into the window of the hospital room Bucky laid in, but you didn’t think you could handle any more hurt, that you could handle any more disappointment.

You could feel Winnifred’s glare on your back as you turned on your heel, shaky feet carrying you back down the corridor of the hospital, carrying you away from him.

“Would you just stop,” Bucky muttered as he pulled himself away from Dolores the best that he could without further straining his injuries, a low groan bubbling past his lips as he edged to the other corner of the bed. He’d rather have anyone else but her in the room right now, he’d rather have you, but he wasn’t sure what was taking you so long to get here, he had made sure you were called, you should have been here minutes ago.

“James,” she tries moving in again, “please don’t move, you’ll only hurt yourself further,” Dolores cooed, only to have him snap at her attempt.

“As if you haven’t already done enough of that for the both of us, when were you going to tell me!”

Dolores steps back eyes wide, “James what are you -”

“how long did you plan on hiding that your family worked for Hydra, how long were you going to keep that vital piece of information from me, from my father, especially knowing what you know about our history with them?”

She gapes at her broken lover, “James, sweetheart what are you on about, y-you're not making any sense.”

Bucky shakes his head, lips set in a thin line, “You really are a rat aren’t you,” he grunts.

“James please -” she tries.

“Rumlow left behind a message,” Bucky murmurs eyes a blaze as he looks at the petite woman before him, “and he made sure I heard him clear, Dolores swallowed, “watch your back.”

“h-how -”

“I want you to leave Dolores, I want you to leave and if you know what’s best for you, you won’t look back, because men like Rumlow and Pierce enjoy a good chase, and you’ll be running for the rest of your day’s if they don’t catch you before my father does.”

Her eyes widen, “b-but you can’t -” “I said go,” he growls, “get out of here!”

Dolores doesn’t wait to be told twice, as she moves around the bed, her shaky form wobbling to rip open the door, Winniefred appearing before her, “Dolores darling, what’s -” though she doesn’t get to finish her thought as the petitie brunette brushes past her roughly.

Her glare turns to her bed ridden son, “James what did you do,” she hisses as she closes the hospital door behind her.

“where’s y/n, did you see y/n on your way in?”

Winnie scoffed with a roll of her eyes, “of course you would be worried about y/n, worried about a woman that doesn’t care about you, why can’t you worry about Dolores in that way why can’t you -”

“did you know she was working for Hydra, did the girl you have on such a high pedestal tell you she worked for the men who threatened to take your life at gunpoint?”

“w-what?”

“Where’s y/n mom,” Bucky questioned, Winnie visibly pales, “s-she’s gone.”

WorldofAUs Forever Tag-list: @cap-n-stuff-main @bucky-cinnamonroll-barnes @kseniiafirebrace @sideeffectsofyou @pinknerdpanda @thefridgeismybestie @b0nkybarnes @oliviastan17 @fandom-basurero​​ @lookiamtrying​​ @baddie-barnes @xxloki81xx @fortyninegal @peacelovehobbitness @xo-spidey @noeaerialist @the-cry-of-youth @liebs82  @jbarness​ @morganclaire4​ @runaway-escape​ @melimelbean​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @rebekahdawkins @thinkaboutmara @im-squished @angstysebfan​ @pncesscarryyy @strangersstranger  @stuckyslutt @courtneychicken @tonystankschild @fallenoutofrose  @jasminepaz @nnuree @ene-rene @mollygetssherlockcoffee @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @doozywoozy @buchanansebba @purselover2   @connie326​ @bestofbucky​ @white-wolf1940​ @stopjustlovethemcu​  @stuckysavedmylive​  @sarcasmoverlordxo​ @avantgardium-leviosa​ @wittysunflower​ @muralskins​ @vesper852 @snakeeater17​ @moonlitskinandcrimsonribbons​ @some0nereally​ @sumtimesitbelikedat​ @gudenuph​ @zareen165​ @dancer3205​ @gemstone-roses​ @buchanansebba​ @moshymosh​ @cachemonet @deepmuffinspymaker​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @supernaturalbaesduh​

Sebastian/Bucky Fluff Taglist: @whatrambles @cherryblossomskye @charmedbysarge @buckysgirl101​

AMT Taglist: @queenredfury

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt98

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

Damian sat back to back with Luka in a lesser traveled area of the park. He was drawing in his sketchbook while the other boy seemed to be strumming his guitar absentmindedly. It was strange being in such an unstructured school, not to mention having teachers who offered advice rather than criticism. He hadn’t liked it at first but it was growing on him. Not having to spend his time in a classroom with people who needed far less advanced curriculum made his life less monotonous. He was actually starting to enjoy himself until he spotted some of his former classmates standing off to the side, whispering and pointing at them.

“If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise go disturb someone else.” His words caused the group to jump and Luka stopped playing. They all just stood there looking sheepish and Damian took the moment to identify them. Luka’s sister was there, looking ridiculous trying to hide behind her much smaller girlfriend. The idiot blogger’s boyfriend was next to them looking anywhere but at him and Luka. Finally came the small girl with dreadlocks and her boyfriend. They all looked insanely uncomfortable.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Luka’s calm demeanor seemed to release some of the tension. His sister even managed a small smile.

“Are you really a Wayne?” The blogger’s boyfriend seemed shocked the words came out of his mouth. Damian let out an annoyed scoff.

“Now you decided to confirm things? Where was this attitude when that liar was wrapping you all around her finger?” They all flinched and Luka elbowed him in the small of his back. He scowled at his boyfriend. These idiots were ruining the little time they got alone together and he seemed fine with it.

“What do you need Jules?” Luka zeroed in on his sister, ignoring the others. Apparently he was annoyed at the interruption. The girl mumbled something but it was her girlfriend that actually spoke.

“We saw an article about Marinette getting hurt. Is she alright?” He hadn’t even realized his father released a press statement yet, let alone that it made it to Paris, though he probably should have expected it once the decision was made. He shared a look with Luka before responding.

“If you want to know you should ask her. I’m not about to give out personal information to anyone, let alone any of you.” They flinched again and Damian fought not to roll his eyes. He couldn’t figure out what Marinette ever saw in these people.

“The number we have for her isn’t in service and we didn’t think we’d be welcome at the bakery.” That was possibly the first intelligent thing he’d heard out of them. Just imagining Sabine’s reaction to any of her daughter’s former classmates entering her business caused a feral grin.

“And what do you care if she is alright or not? Last time you saw her you were perfectly happy to see her injured, emotionally if not physically.” None of those present were actually at the assault but they all had aimed comments at Marinette that were meant to wound.

“We thought she was bullying Lila.” The girl with dreads decided to throw out that nonsense. Before he could answer such stupidity Luka broke in.

“Someone else’s bad behavior doesn’t excuse yours even if that had been true. I personally am at a loss to understand how any of you could ever believe Mari would bully anyone. It is a ridiculous thought.” Damian eyed his boyfriend warily. He’d never heard a tone anywhere near that cold come from him before. While he didn’t want that sound aimed at him, he was rather impressed.

“You didn’t see any of the stunts she pulled with Adrien.” Luka’s sister finally figured out how to be audible, he gave her a disappointed frown.

“Stunts that you all were encouraging her to do. Many of them you were a part of. I wonder how many wouldn’t have happened without all of your interference. Do you really think she would have gone after Lila for no reason with all of you against her?” They were all shuffling nervously and refusing to make eye contact again. “I think you all need to find out why you let yourselves be deceived so easily before you talk to Mari. That way any apologies may actually be sincere rather than just an effort to ease your own guilt.”

As they scampered away Damian could only smile fondly at the other boy. Luka didn’t put people in their place very often but it was always effective. He was staring after his sister and Damian could see the worry in his posture. He reached out to lace their fingers together.

“She’ll come around, it will just take time. None of them are ready to admit how wrong they were.” Luka leaned into him and while Damian couldn’t help scanning the area to make sure no one was watching, he didn’t feel the need to pull away. He never thought he’d be so comfortable showing affection in public, but Luka seemed to have a habit of making the impossible happen.

“I should have been more present. If I had paid more attention to Jules maybe I could have stopped her from being pulled in in the first place. At the very least I could have been there more for Mari. She’s always hidden her pain too well.”

AO3   Beginning   Previous    Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

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[oikawaplssteponme]

PART 11 | previously: part 10 | masterlist

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: swearing, implied content (nothing too bad) angst (?)

synopsis: When UA’s hot heads, Katsuki Bakugou and you, are forced to put your hatred for each other aside and plan the third year Prom, things end up getting a little heated...

a/n: hi hi! so psa that im estimating that there will be about 3 more parts after this one :)) maybe more but 3 for sure :)) also i would say im sorry for the pain but im not 😚 enjoy xx

•

eleven: I hate you

“You snore when you sleep,” you told Bakugou. The blond was slowly starting to wake up. The two of you tangled together in the sheets of Bakugou’s bed. You turned over to look at him, his hair a complete morning mess.

“Yeah says you princess,” he groaned. His morning voice was deep and raspy. You sat up and watched as Bakugou pulled the covers back over his head. You laughed.

“It’s almost 10am explosion boy, we’ve got stuff to do.”

“Well maybe if you didn’t make me stay up so late I wouldn’t be so tired…”

“Are you saying you’d pick sleep over what happened last night?” You teased. Bakugou took the blanket off of his face and pulled you towards him.

“God no,” he smirked as he pulled you into a kiss. You smiled against his lips.

“Good. Now get up, we’re supposed to start setting up at noon.” Bakugou groaned, not letting go of you.

“Let’s just stay here~” he whined. You chuckled.

“Who knows, maybe after the dance you’ll get lucky again, but we have to set up for that to happen,” you teased. Bakugou jumped up from the bed and tossed you over his shoulder.

“AH-KATSUKI-“

“Well then we’ve gotta get ready!” He laughed as he spun you around. He set you down and kissed your head.

“I’ll see you later dumbass,” you smiled, ruffling his hair.

“Meet me in the common area when you wanna head down, okay?”

“Okay, but you have to let go of me silly.” Bakugou unwrapped his arms from around you.

“Oops.”

“Bye.” You kissed his cheek once more before heading out the door.

Please no one be around.

You opened the door slowly and shut it quietly. You scanned the hallway, hoping no one saw you leaving Bakugou’s room.

Coast is clear.

“Y/N?”

Okay maybe not.

You looked over your shoulder and saw Kirishima, Sero, and Denki staring at you. You couldn’t look any more suspicious. Your hand was still on Bakugou’s door knob, you were wearing his t-shirt, and your neck looked like you had gotten into a paintball match. You sighed and walked over to them.

“Morning guys,” you said confidently, hoping they wouldn’t question you.

“Why were you in-”

“Y/N!” called Bakugou behind you. You jumped and watched as Kirishima, Sero, and Denki’s jaws all dropped at once. You felt Bakugou’s hand on your shoulder.

“You forgot this,” he said plainly. Bakugou dangled your bra in front of your face, and in front of his friends. You snatched the bra from his hands.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you huffed. Bakugou smirked.

“I’ll see you later dumbass.” Bakugou tapped your ass before turning back around and going into his room. You sighed, and just walked around the group of stunned boys before you.

~

You went into your room and plopped down on your bed. You couldn’t believe that last night actually happened. You couldn’t believe that you actually told Bakugou how you felt.

Wait a damn minute.

You sat up from your bed.

Did he say it back? He did right? Oh my fuck he didn’t. Wait? No, he definitely didn’t. Fuck. Maybe he meant to say it and just forgot. Yeah, that’s it.

You took a deep breath. There was no reason to freak yourself out. After all, Bakugou acted like he felt the same. You reassured yourself that everything was fine.

You were supposed to head down to the theatre soon to set up. Prom would be taking place in the same place that the school festival concert was your first year. You had recruited some of your friends to help you set up as well, so you needed to head down to meet them. You changed into some sweatpants and out of Bakugou’s shirt and into a sweatshirt. You felt it was best to return his favorite shirt to him. You then went to go meet Bakugou in the common area.

“Come on Bakugou!” begged Kirishima. You could hear Bakugou, Kiri, Denki, and Sero from across the hall. The boys continued to pester Bakugou.

“Just tell us what’s going on with you and Y/N!” said Denki. You jumped and went to hide by the wall, in hopes of listening in on this conversation.

Please say something nice.

“What the hell are you talking about?” groaned Bakugou.

“Well we did catch her sneaking out of your room this morning. Care to explain?” teased Sero. Bakugou huffed.

“No.”

“Come on man! Are you two a thing now?” Your heart began to beat a little faster.

Please, please.

“Why do you damn extras care so much?”

“Bakugou this is Y/N we’re talking about! Do you see why this is kinda a big deal?” said Denki.

“So what is it? Are you guys a thing or not?” You took a deep breath.

“No.”

Your heart dropped.

“No?”

“No. Nothing is going on with me and Y/N damn it. I-I don’t care about her…” You clapped your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.

“So her sneaking out of your room this morning?”

“That didn’t mean anything. I-I don’t even like her.”

“Well that’s too bad,” whispered Denki.

“Whatever…”

Without thinking, you marched over to the boys.

“Good to fucking know.” You threw Bakugou’s shirt at him. He looked at you, stunned.

“Oh shit-”

“WAIT Y/N!” Bakugou stumbled off of the couch to catch you but you were already walking away.

“Get the hell away from me Bakugou!” You swatted him away from you as he tried to grab hold of your hand. He grabbed your hand anyway, forcing you to look at him.

“Wait Y/N listen I-”

“No, you listen to me Katsuki Bakugou because I’m only gonna say this once,” You looked at him dead in the eyes, while your own began to water.

“I hate you.”

You ripped your hand back from Bakugou and ran down the stairs.

~

His words kept playing on repeat in your head. Over and over again. You sat on the steps on the basement stairs. Your face buried in the palms of your hands. You hated crying but you hated other people seeing you cry even more. You heard footsteps get closer to you but you felt too weak to even get up.

“Y/N…”

“Fuck off Bakugou,” you sniffled.

“I’ll make sure to pass that message onto him.” You turned around and looked up at your friend.

“Oh sorry Iida, I thought you were Bakugou,” you explained. Iida joined you on the stairs.

“That’s okay. The real question is, are you okay? I heard what happened.” You looked at Iida, your eyes red and puffy. You buried your face into his chest, sobbing.

“How could I be so stupid? I’m so naive. I knew that he wouldn’t feel the same and I ignored it. What was I thinking? Fuck, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!” Iida rubbed your back.

“You don’t hate him Y/N.” You looked up at him, wiping your face.

“W-What?”

“You don’t hate him,” Iida sighed, “you love him.”

More tears began to stream down your face. Your lips started to quiver even more.

“I-I don’t want to love someone who doesn’t love me back.”

Iida took the sleeve of his shirt and wiped off the remaining tears from your face.

“Look, Bakugou is a complicated guy. Maybe he didn’t mean it.”

“I don’t give a fuck if he meant it or not. He still said it. God-fuck- I just can’t believe I was so stupid to fall for the one person I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Says who?”

“What?”

“Who says you weren’t supposed to fall for Bakugou? Sure, the two of you have a more than strange relationship but that doesn’t mean you weren’t supposed to fall for him,” said Iida. You sniffled.

“Well clearly I didn’t listen to myself because I fell for him anyway. Iida, I hate that I love him so much. Fuck-it’s like whenever I see him or talk to him my heart just goes-” you began to make gestures with your hands. Iida chuckled.

“That’s called feeling happy Y/N,” Iida teased.

“Whatever,” you smiled.

“Who would’ve thought the the only person who could turn you into a hopeless romantic would be Bakugou.”

“I AM NOT A HOPELESS ROMANTIC! Well...maybe I’m just hopeless at this point. I-I just don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“You’ll know when the time is right. I’m sure of it.”

“Thanks Iida,” you sighed. He smiled.

“Now, no more crying over silly boys. You’ve got a dance to set up.” You nodded.

“I guess you’re right. Mind giving me a hand?”

Iida smiled. “I don’t mind at all.”

•

[taglist OPEN: @vangoghpoets @vangoghmusings @bokutory @complimentaryhugsgirl @cloudswriting @kriswu46 @neodnyl @evivn1 @jazzylove @mileven-reddie @whalerus @misssugarless @random-fandom-girl-24 @fanfiction-and-stress @ushiwakatrash @minhoswife @addictofsupernatural @the-shota-king-masayuki @freyafolkvangr @deaths-mate @tamaguchi @lalayy @athenarosaline @blxck-coffee @katsukibabe @thatonegeekchick @that-chick212 @bibly @nxynxy @theunknownrandom @flustered-blue-eyed-sex-muffin @94potterhead @moonlightaangel @katusukisbitch2000 @secondchoicealwaysandforever @salsaedx @ukaisgratefulwhore @lucyheartfilias-wife @big-phat-cat (if your name is bold I couldn’t tag you) ]

[ilikekidsshows]

I edited the ask slightly to make it clear this is about apologists making excuses for Chloé's behavior and not fans who just feel frustrated over not getting an arc they wished to see.

Anon said: I think what really annoys me is Chloe apologists that cry she’s, “just a kid she can learn to be better and outgrow her abusive tendencies” seem to gloss over or ignore that Chloe has been given MULTIPLE chances to do better for 3 seasons and at every turn she always returns to her spoiled bratty bullying ways. Especially in season 3 where she didn’t listen to Ladybug about never getting the miraculous and felt entitled to the power.

It’s just so annoying how chloe apologists act like she’s the real victim just cause her mommy doesn’t love her, news flash she’s not the only character in the show who has a bad relationship with a parent. It doesn’t give Chloe the right to degrade and abuse people. Im not sure if Chloe needs to hit rock bottom before she turn things around or this is heading towards a corruption arc. However im also annoyed when parts of her fandom claim it’s misogynistic that she doesn’t get better.

Because sometimes bad people stay bad and never get better, it would be a very powerful lesson to teach kids who are in toxic abusive relationships especially with childhood friends that sometimes you have to let them go and cut them off because they’re causing you harm. It was very powerful of Adrien to stand up to Chloe multiple times as an abuse victim and not let her drag him down to her level. All the people mad at him for queen banana don’t realize that Adrien can’t make chloe a kinder person. No one can make someone mean good.

Plus the show is chock full of actual good and kind girls with positive supportive friendships so having one or even two female characters turn out bad isn’t sexist to me. Same with people who claim Zoe is a Mary Sue and it’s wrong that she’s replacing Chloe. Which is weird because Zoe can’t replace what Chloe never was, a friend to the main cast. Chloe was never close with the class or their friend even if she tried to be involved in their projects he never tried to get along with the others.

Plus Zoe made a mistake by trying to emulate her family and be a bully but eventually realized being awful like them wasn’t worth their approval. Whether she’s a better hero or deserves the miraculous is another discussion but we’re talking about Chloe here. If she continues down the path of selfishness and hate becoming like her mother and her sister Zoe, who also comes from an abusive family, doesn’t that just means one overcame their trauma and the other didn’t.

Sorry for the rant just I’m so tired of seeing the tag be cluttered up by Chloe apologists who won’t stop crying or complaining about her character.

With what the canon actually gave us, Chloé's arc could have gone, and could still go, either way on the redemption/corruption scale. Yes, Chloé messed up royally in the season three finale, but she was under duress to a degree. While Chloé showed few signs of becoming a selfless hero, since most of the people she helped as a hero were people she put in bad situations to begin with or she helped out to get to hang out with Ladybug, she's also showed no signs of becoming a true villain the same way Lila has. We can clearly see Lila developing into a supervillain, but Chloé is very much stuck in the middle and could go either way if she suddenly got superpowers with no strings attached.

The real issue here is Chloé's civilian life. She's never been kind to her classmates and goes out of her way to make sure they have a bad time. This has never been influenced by whether or not she had a Miraculous, so obviously something not-superpowers-related needs to happen for her to see anything wrong with what she's doing.

And there's a real chance Zoé is meant to be that thing that makes Chloé see. Chloé could see how her sister was forgiven and welcomed by her classmates and realize how easy it is to stop being awful and get validation and friendship from the class that way. This realization might make her look down on the class as gullible fools, like Lila, or it might make Chloé want to belong and try to adjust her behavior, having her follow Zoé's lead.

Of course there's still a chance that Chloé will just keep swinging between sitcom arch nemesis and not-quite-a-supervillain, that she'll still be used as a civilian life obstacle for the heroes to overcome and she's not meant to be redeemed or corrupted. In this case I can see this fandom discourse continuing for years to come, since it's the uncertainty of Chloé's role that's fuelling it so much.

Crying misogyny every time your favorite female character is treated in a way you don't like, when it’s used in a way that’s clearly just a buzzword meant to manipulate people, is something I'm just so done with. In the case of Miraculous, though, it's especially misguided, with how much the creators clearly try to be feminist. It's one thing to say something they did fails at that goal and leans into sexist attitudes and another to say they're being purposefully misogynistic because the show isn’t to your tastes. Because, let’s face it, a lot of the show’s attempts at being progressive have been tone deaf, but it usually seems to happen by accident and sometimes, at least with Fei’s design, they seem to be willing to amend a mistake when it gets pointed out.

Also, because sexism and feminism are about gender politics, the thing with discussing sexism is not actually comparing a female character with other female characters, it's about comparing a female character with male characters. If a show aims for gender equality, a character's gender can't influence how they are treated. This means we need to see if we can compare Chloé's character to a male character and find equality.

And we can. Miraculous Ladybug has a male character who causes others pain on purpose. This same character has several chances to stop being awful with "not being awful" costing him nothing. He even shows a softer side in 'Style Queen', just like Chloé in that same episode, but ultimately tosses that change aside when he finds something he thinks can help him gain his goals, like Chloé does in 'Miracle Queen'.

I am of course talking about Gabriel Agreste. I have repeatedly said that Marinette and Chloé are mirrors, what the other could be if they changed how they view other people and themselves. Gabriel is a foil to Marinette, so he naturally mirrors Chloé as well. However, Gabriel's arc has a similar forwards-and-backwards beat as Chloé's does. Even Chloé Apologists recognize the similarities between the two, since I've seen them voicing concerns that Gabriel might get redeemed while Chloé doesn't, because they think Gabriel having sympathetic aspects is a sign of a redemption arc for him like it supposedly was for Chloé. Instead, they are still both firmly in the area of antagonists and villains.

Although I will concede one key difference: Chloé is still way more likely to get redeemed than Gabriel.

I also think that, even if Chloé does get redeemed eventually, it’s still important that Adrien didn’t just hang on waiting for it when she spent so long proving again and again that she didn’t want to change. Because the other characters couldn’t know for sure if Chloé would change. Just like in the real world you won’t know for sure if your toxic friend will ever change, so you might have to let them go for your own sake. Even if they might get better one day, even if you’re not their target, it’s not on you to stand by them when they do things that are against your personal ethics.

[thewritingstar]

Hopelessly Devoted To You

Pairing: SoMa (Soul x Maka) 

Fandom: Soul Eater (oh look new fandom alert) 

I hope everyone is having a wonderful day, im not doing too hot rn just cause im super stressed and slightly depressed but we shall push through. So allow me to just indulge in some soma cause I finished the series a while ago and have been dying to write for them. 

I hope you enjoy cause I want the serotonin plz. (asks/requests/commissions open)

tag list: @shellielyzabeth @unvalley

---

Devotion. 

A simple word that gave away so much. 

Some would call him crazy, insane to give his life as easily as he does, but there was never a second doubt in his mind when the offer came up. Like a persons loyalty to their god and savior, he would bow down even if she never asked, and she didn’t. She hadn’t needed to anyways. 

He wasn’t blind to the reasons. Somewhere along the lines of loyalty, his feelings spun into something else. Something stronger that he kept quiet. Admiration turned to adoration while devotion warped with desire. It was all there. His cards on the table and he was thankful that his mestier couldn’t read them. 

Because that meant she could reject him just as easy. 

But he was okay with that, at least that was the lie he told himself when the moon turned to the sun. He could accept the scars and bruises that littered his body if it meant that she helped cleaned and heal them. Her soft hands caressing his skin in a platonic way was enough. Her friendship was enough. 

Years ago they had begun this journey. A simple meister and a lonely weapon. Now they were seen as celebrities among their world and had grown over the years. She was still the bossy but bright girl who would scold him for slouching. But now she was a woman. The beginning of their 20s was something he had looked forward too because that meant more adventures without the boredom of school in the way. He just didn’t expect his hormones to flare up constantly. 

It became harder because loving her was as natural as breathing to him. She could smile bright and give him praise and that would hold him over so that he could keep their friendship alive. He wanted the best for her, even if it meant he suffered in the shadows. 

But deep down, there was a selfish pool stirring. He could let it bubble over and take control. Tell her that he is hers no matter what and in every way. Allow for their partnership to travel to unknot waters even thought he knew that they could drown. He wanted to risk it if it meant there was a small chance she would feel the same. 

But he wouldn’t. He was devoted to his mestier as a weapon and friend. A protector on all realms and he would never forgive himself is he was the cause of her broken heart.

She had been betrayed too many times and the last thing she needed was her best friend to leave her as well. Watching her parents marriage fall apart added to the stress and pressure she faced everyday, especially when she was asked if they were together officially. She would laugh it off and say that they weren’t and the subject would be changed quickly. 

He didn’t mind it of course, because they weren't. Though it torn his heart into pieces as the thought of another man claiming her heart in a way he never could, he would stand by her side. He would laugh, cry, smile even if the vows whispered weren’t for him. 

In those moments he was alone with his thoughts, his soul tried to bounce around freely, wanting to be closer to hers and it took everything in his power to make sure that his thoughts never made their way over to hers. 

The soft touches and passing glances between them would add to the fire he had sworn to keep cool and he would gladly let them burn from within. Sometimes she would crawl into his bed and he would pretend that she was already his as he placed a kiss to her head and make sure she dozed off peacefully. 

No matter what she needed, he was there.

--

There were too many scars to count on the both of them. Too much blood dried on the skin and they couldn't bring themselves to go get cleaned up, at least not right now. They opted for the couch with his feet propped on the table and her head resting on his shoulder. 

He should be angry, yelling at her even, but he couldn’t bring himself too. She was one to make rash, yet calculated moves and when she threw him to the side and allowed for her body to take the blow, his heart pulled in a familiar fashion he tried to keep at bay. 

The scene played over and over in his mind like a record on a broken player. That devotion to protect her was overridden by her own personal desire to save him and it made that fire roar and the waters turn to wave as he sat and contemplated everything. 

He vowed to never be selfish, some wouldn't think he was capable of the action. He had proved over and over that his devotion to her was beyond any other weapon and his friends had agreed. But sitting here and knowing that she could have died, it was all too much. 

The thought of her leaving this world without he knowing that he was here's all this time was a worse fate than her rejecting him. He would rather give his life than live without her and perhaps that's why sacrifice was so easy. 

So now he sat here, exhausted and mind racing because the line in the sand was being crossed before he could stop himself. 

“Maka.” He said quietly. 

“Yeah?” She turned her head towards him.

He hesitated and looked at her. Those olive green eyes he had know for years held so many promises of tomorrow, he couldn’t begin to count them. Even with dirt coated on her face and a split lip, she was the embodiment of perfection. 

They had once traveled to see the northern lights and while she was gushing over the luminous colors dancing in the sky, his eyes were glued to her and the way the stars danced in her eyes. 

“Forgive me if I’m wrong.” He said simply and her mind wasn’t fast enough to process his words as his thumb cupped her chin and soft lips pressed to hers. 

Even with a split lip, she was soft and warm against him. It was slow and steady and tried to search for answers he asked himself at night. 

He pulled away, eye closed and scared that he was about to drown in those forsaken waters, that everything they had spent years building was wiped away because he was being selfish. 

It was crazy how much he loved her and although he knew she had a love for him, he wasn’t sure if it was the same. Perhaps he would need to swallow his pride to think that her feelings where compatible with his. 

“Soul.” He felt her hand on his cheek and opened his eyes after what felt like an eternity. 

He could feel it. Her soul fusing with his in a new way and it came with the realization that he was a fool to think that he was selfish. Every action he did was easily mimicked. Every scar that graced his body, she had a matching one. They were a pair, through and through. His heart was in her hands when he was holding hers along. 

And that begged the question if she loved him all the same. 

She batted her eyelashes softly, a smile playing on her lips and made note of the pink dusting her cheeks. It was as if she could read the lines in his soul as she spoke, “I loved you longer than I’ve known.” 

The tears were a surprise as she swiped them with her thumb and kissed his cheek. “I love you.” Soul whispered and she nodded, pulling him back to her lips and kissing him like she dreamed of every night.

Because the truth was their devotion was to each other like that of two halves becoming whole. 

---

I hope you liked it :)

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Fist Fights and Silent Nights

Fandom: RPF, American Actor,

Pairing: Austin Butler x  Female Reader

Characters: Austin Butler, Reader, Original Male Character, Original Female Character

Word Count: 1827 // Rating: Mature

Summary: Austin might not be invited back to next years Christmas Party

Tags/ Warnings: Implied Blowjobs, Implied Oral Sex, Implied Sexual Assault, Christmas, Christmas Party, Inappropriate Behaviour, Sexual Harrassment, Violence, Punching, Face Punching, Arguing, Fluff, Angst

Notes: IM FERAL FOR AUSTIN PUNCHING PEOPLE JUST SAYING 

Updated 8/23

‘Do we have to go?’ Austin grumbled from where he was laying on the bed. He was fully dressed, ready to go, whilst I was sitting in front of my mirror putting the last few touches on my look. ‘You know we do,’ I said watching him through the reflection. He sighed and closed his eyes, running his hand down his face as I turned back to my makeup. ‘Why?’ he asked, moving off the bed and coming to stand behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders, caressing them gently. ‘Because I do,’ I said watching him in the mirror. ‘You don’t even like your boss,’ he reasoned, ‘you said he creeps you out.’ ‘I know,’ I said straightening my makeup and brushes on the table. As I stood up he pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing down my neck, ‘but not all of us can have Christmas work parties on the set of Saturday Night Live.’ ‘True,’ he chuckled his lips continuing to trail along my neck. ‘And as for my boss I don’t intend on spending much time with him,’ I giggled, ‘I’d rather spend it with you.’ ‘Is that right?’ he said looking at me in the mirror. ‘If you’re lucky I might even find us some mistletoe,’ I winked. 

✵✵✵

‘And I just had to leave it there. Scissors, underwear, my dignity,’ Sarah chuckled sipping her drink. ‘That’s hilarious,’ Austin chuckled, ‘how have you never told me that before?’ ‘Oh it's a story that needs Sarah to tell it,’ I chuckled, ‘I can never do it justice.’ ‘Yeah you definitely have to have it laced with embarrassment for it to work,’ Sarah chuckled. ‘Well it’s a good story,’ Austin smiled. ‘Maybe you can make it into a movie,’ Sarah chuckled, ‘girl who shits herself mid-meeting coming to a theatre near you in 2023.’ ‘Oh for sure,’ I giggled, ‘make sure you copyright it or he’ll be taking all the credit.’ ‘Me? Never,’ Austin said. Sarah giggled. The night was going well. After a small meal, the work’s Christmas party had migrated into a function room. Everyone was a little drunker and given that we weren’t going to see each other until the new year a bit less restrained. Austin had done really well. For all his charisma and suaveness he was awfully shy which meant that at every party we had to attend when it wasn’t friends or family, he became a nervous wreck. Fortunately, he seemed to be doing well and my coworkers were being gentle with him which I appreciated. Unfortunately, that wasn’t to last. As Sarah’s giggles died down abruptly I noticed her gaze looking over my shoulder and I turned to find my boss coming over towards us.

‘Ah Y/N,’ my boss said coming over to me. I shot Austin a ‘help me’ look before I turned to smile at the man standing next to me. ‘Mr Price,’ I said, ‘Merry Christmas.’ ‘And to you,’ he said with a smile. ‘Yeah Merry Christmas Mr Price,’ Sarah said with a fake smile. ‘Oh yeah, same to you er-’ ‘Sarah,’ she said. ‘Yeah,’ he said looking at me before he seemed to notice Austin standing there, ‘oh and this is?’ ‘Austin,’ he said with an edge, ‘Y/N’s boyfriend.’ ‘Oh,’ Mr Price said looking at me, ‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.’ ‘Was there something you needed?’ I asked cutting through whatever he was trying to imply. It was true I hadn’t mentioned Austin to him but that was more to do with the fact I tried to spend as little time as I could with the man and less to do with me mentioning my relationship to my coworkers. However, I noted the way Austin’s face fell a little as I changed tact which made a little pit of guilt form in me.

‘I was just wondering if you wanted to come and get your bonus,’ he said. ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘are you giving them out now?’ ‘Well I thought I’d do it individually,’ he said. ‘And she’s first huh?’ Austin said narrowing his eyes. ‘She’s one of my best,’ he said coolly, ‘so are you ready?’

I looked between them both. Austin was watching me uncertainly and I could feel the tension rolling off of him. Mr Price was watching me just as intently though his gaze seemed more forceful than that of my boyfriend. ‘Actually, I think I’ll come later. We were mid-conversation and everything,’ I said with a smile, ‘how about you get someone else first?’ ‘Oh come on don’t be such a spoilsport,’ Mr Price said leaning in and wrapping an arm around me. His hand rested on my hip, locking me in a vice grip that I couldn’t move out of. ‘She said she doesn’t want to,’ Austin said straightening up and looking him dead in the eye. ‘No one’s asking you Adam,’ he said with a cocky smirk that made my skin crawl. ‘No, but she can speak for herself,’ Austin said ignoring the misnomer, ‘so how about you take your hands off her and listen to what she’s saying?’ ‘Aus,’ I said warningly. I wanted out of this conversation. For Mr Price to go away and leave us alone. I could see the anger flaming in Austin’s eyes and I just hoped he wasn’t going to do anything stupid. ‘Take my hands off her?’ Mr Price scoffed letting his grip on my hip lessen. I slipped out of his way and moved towards Austin, who moved in front of me a little creating a barrier between me and my boss, ‘you make it seem like I was feeling her up.’ ‘Weren’t you?’ Austin challenged. ‘I’m the head of this company,’ he said, as if that meant something, ‘maybe you should think about what you say before you start slinging mud around. It’s making everyone uncomfortable.’ ‘Aus maybe we should go,’ I said tugging on his sleeve. Austin glanced at me, his hard stare softening a little as he looked into my pleading eyes. ‘Yeah Aus,’ Mr Price chuckled patronisingly, ‘maybe you should go.’

Austin ignored him and turned to me ready and nodded. I smiled at him and then at Sarah but as we prepared to leave Price kept talking, ‘yeah big man. How about you follow your little girlfriend home? Play the hero. Have at her. I bet she’s only a half-decent lay anyway.’

That's when chaos descended. I heard the thud before I saw it and then Austin was standing above Mr Price who was splayed out on the floor clutching his jaw as he spewed hatred towards us. Security descended on us shepherding him out of the room through the crowd of my onlooking coworkers as I followed red-faced. We were down at the valet before I could even speak to him. He was holding his hand, evidently having put some force behind it and I was watching him angrily.

‘What the hell were you thinking!?’ I snapped. ‘Me?’ he baulked, ‘what about him?’ ‘He’s a sleaze everyone knows that!’ I said, ‘doesn’t mean you had to punch him!’ ‘Oh so letting him get away with talking to you like that’s fine?’ ‘He’s my boss Austin,’ I said. ‘That doesn’t make it okay,’ he said looking down at me. His jaw was set and his eyes flaming but I could see the worry behind them. ‘It’s not that simple,’ I said. It wasn’t. Everyone knew what he was like and I knew it wasn’t fair but it wasn’t always as cut and dry as calling someone out. 

Before he could say anything else we were interrupted by the valet who lingered awkwardly beside him holding out his keys. Austin took them and we moved towards the car in silence. We were on the road before either of us spoke again, the only sound was the gentle jingle of Christmas tunes. I could feel him glancing at me but I kept my gaze out of the windshield. I didn’t want to look at him. I was angry sure but at myself and my ass of a boss more than him. I knew he hadn’t done it to cause me more trouble, but I wished he’d thought about it first.

‘So are we gonna sit in silence the whole way home or?’ he said after a while. I turned to glare at him which made him smirk, ‘I take it that’s yes.’ ‘I don’t know what you want me to say,’ I said. ‘A thank you might be nice,’ he said. ‘I told you it’s not that simple,’ ‘Why not?’ he said. ‘What if he gets you arrested? Huh? What if he presses charges? What if he fires me?’ I said feeling myself getting worked up. ‘Y/N,’ he said with a sad smile but I continued. ‘Look, I know he’s an ass. I know he shouldn’t have put his hands on me even if it was ‘innocent’,’ I said earning a scoff from Austin, ‘but guys like that…they hold a lot more power than you think. There’s no easy fix for it.’ ‘Well maybe he needed a little something to knock some sense into him,’ he said, ‘and besides, I don’t care what he does to me. And as for your job I don’t know why you’d wanna work for a scumbag like that.’

I sighed and looked out the window mulling over his words. I felt his hand reach across and rest on my thigh as he continued to drive making my resolve crumble more and more. I knew violence wasn’t the answer. But maybe he was right. He was an ass. Who knows what might have happened if we’d gone into his office alone? It could’ve been worse. By far. And Austin had a point. Did I really want to work for a guy like that?

‘Maybe you’re right,’ I said after a moment, chewing on my lip. Austin glanced at me with a smile. ‘So I’m forgiven?’ he smirked. ‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘he did kinda have it coming.’ ‘Oh definitely,’ Austin smirked. ‘Not that I think you should’ve punched him,’ I said. Austin shook his head exaggeratedly. ‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘Because violence is never the answer,’ I said. ‘Definitely not,’ he smirked. ‘Even if you did look pretty hot doing it,’ I said leaning in and placing my hand on his thigh. Austin’s eyes flew open wide as he looked at me, ‘oh yeah?’ ‘Yeah,’ I said as my fingers trailed along his belt, ‘I mean the whole defending my honour, masculine thing sorta suits you.’ ‘Good to know,’ he said biting his lip as I unbuckled his belt, ‘babe.’ ‘Just keep your eyes on the road, Butler,’ I smirked, ‘and find me some mistletoe.’ ‘Huh?’ he said, his breath hitching as my hand set to work. ‘I’ve found something I wanna kiss,’ I chuckled.

Thats right FERAL

[peachcitt]

okay, so style reference you say? I'm 👀

YES STYLE REFERENCE I SAY

this is going to be. a very long post i think with probably a lot of tangents and probably with a lot more thorough explanation than you could ever want but. here we go

because all of my theory/explanation posts end up So Long, i like to organize myself by keeping myself to a structure, and i also like to think if i put stuff in sub categories with bolded titles, people reading can skip ahead to the stuff they want if they're low on time or don't feel like slogging through everything. so here's the structure of the official Peach Style Reference Narrative

1. Early Days - how i started writing, my early inspirations, origins

2. Current Days - discussions of current style references plus examples and comparisons, discussions of original content versus fan content

3. Future Days - where i expect my writing to grow, trajectories i want, conclusory thoughts

without further ado, let's get into it!

1. Early Days

like i mentioned on the discord server, ive been writing creatively for. a very long time. i just turned 20 (like. literally today. we love to see it) and that seems very young, but i remember writing creatively when i was maybe six or seven, and before that i played with dolls a lot, which meant every day i was creating little narratives for myself. in addition to this - and this is probably why i started writing so young - i was (and am!) a very avid reader. i was that little jerk in elementary school reading chapter books and going into the older kids' section in the school library because i'd already mentally surpassed the books in the section meant for kids my age. so, basically, ive been writing for maybe 13 or 14 years at the least.

when i was young, my favorite books that i remember trying to copy in my own stories were: the magic treehouse books, harry potter, and percy jackson.

the magic treehouse

i honestly could not tell you which magic treehouse book it was, but i remember reading a specific magic treehouse book where the magic lady that left the treehouse for the kids sends the kids (jack and annie??) a note in distress, and she didn't get to finish signing her name because whoever had gotten her had interrupted her. it had been printed in the book with the ink on her name running.

i could not tell you anything else that happened in that book, but i can tell you that at some point in time soon after i read that book i started writing a story with an interrupted letter just like that. i loved the drama, the mystery of it all. i wanted to do something that was a little scary like that, a little exciting.

harry potter

harry potter isn't much of a style reference, but it was a huge impact of my childhood. truth be told i kind of hated the books when i was really young because i grew up watching the movies, and when i tried to read the books when i was in elementary school, the teenage angst that hits about book 5 simply Did Not make sense to me. i also find the language of harry potter to be super cumbersome, and sometimes it feels to me like the books are long just for the sake of being long. they have a huge cultural impact, but i feel the same way about harry potter's style as i do about dickens. cool and interesting, but, like, could you get to the point already? (and also my opinion of j.k. rowling has steadily been growing worse and worse over the years, for obvious reasons. harry potter is nostalgic for me, but i can't look at it now without thinking about it critically, which really lowers my opinion of it)

however, you could probably call my first fanfiction a harry potter fanfiction. i started it when i was maybe six or seven, and it was a rewrite of the chamber of secrets with my childhood best friend as the main character (she didn't know about it, i just had her as the main character because i thought she was cool). i of course never finished it, but harry potter probably did a huge part of planting that seed of magic in me. everything i want to write included some form of magic - although my perspective on what can be considered magic has steadily expanded over the years.

percy jackson

of all my childhood "style references" that still influence me to this day, percy jackson has got to be the biggest. for starters, it's magic. second, it's main themes are about friendship and family - things that i like all my stories now to always include. third - and most important - is the narrative voice.

in terms of narrative voice, percy has a huge personality. he's witty and snarky, but also very thoughtful and poignant. a lot of my early writing was in first person, and it's probably because of percy. also, percy jackson was the first fandom i really got into, and it was the first media that i started officially writing and posting fanfiction for. percy's voice is so clear and hooking, and i wanted to be able to write something funny and real like that.

also - chapter titles. the original pjo series is famous for its weird and hilarious chapter titles, and even though i didn't really start writing fics or stories that were long enough to need chapter titles until a while later, i loved the idea of putting in a chapter title that would make a reader laugh, or maybe even make a reader feel a little apprehensive about the events to come.

but back to percy's narrative voice. i loved that style, almost conversational, so much that i started thinking like it. when i wasn't doing anything, like walking home in middle school, i often found myself narrating my life in my head like percy would, trying to find that humor and spark in my every day surroundings. i still find myself doing that very often, but not necessarily in the classic pjo style. now i narrate everything in my head a little differently, but that practice narration in my early days really helped my shape my voice, i think.

other series i read when i was younger include: a a series of unfortunate events and the name of this book is secret. i don't remember seeing a lot of influence in my early writing from those books, but i definitely think the styles of those books hit me a little later, which i will talk about in the next section.

but, yeah. these were the big three of my childhood. i also read a lot of ya romance, children's mystery books, princess stories, and various types of fantasy, which i think you could probably tell from the genres i like to stick to now. except i don't write a ton of mystery because, as much as i admire the complicated plots, im not sure if i'd have the patience to plan all that out.

in terms of the rest of the genres, a ton of my earlier writing included classic ya romance and fantasy tropes - chosen girl, love triangles, angsty overpowered teens, etc etc. even though those kinds of stories are not necessarily the kinds of stories i want to write or read now, i think my early writing of those kinds of things was really valuable. it's kind of a dirty secret with finished or unfinished works generally considered 'cringe' - often that writer is a new writer, or they're trying something new, or they just haven't found their voice yet. all of those things are perfectly okay and normal, and a lot of people in the writing community preach that kind of thing, but i don't necessarily see people cutting new writers slack in actual practice. writing "overrused" tropes isn't cringe, it's normal, and, besides, what trope isn't overrused? people have been writing and telling stories for thousands of years - nothing is really new. what matter is that someone new is telling the story, and that's what makes it valuable.

so, yeah, a lot of my childhood writing is cringe to me now, but i wouldn't be where i am without it.

with that being said, let's actually look at where i am now

2. Current Days

im going to break this section down into two parts, sort of: original fiction and fanfiction. because i think both of these things have become really important to me, and i don't believe i personally could exist as a writer without one or the other. it's a symbiotic relationship.

we'll start with fanfiction.

my relationship with fanfiction is relatively positive in online spaces: i write what i want to see from media that i like, and i have fun doing it. i also get some comments on my fics by lovely people that detail exactly what they like - some even go so far to talk about narrative style, voice, or tone - and that's really helpful. generally, i see fanfiction not only as a fun hobby and vent space for my strong positive feelings about certain media, but also as a place for me to try new things, experiment, and earn positive feedback.

i don't often share my original fiction online (and if i do, never at the same scope as my fanfiction), so i don't get that same opportunity to see what "works" with readers. fanfiction gives me the space to see that, and i apply new knowledge ive learned to my original fiction. that's what i mean by a symbiotic relationship.

in terms of specific style references for specific fics (which is what i know you probably most want to see), i'll try my best to pick them all out and give specific examples.

those benevolent stars and i am the messenger by markus zusak

in my favorite book list, i saw you mention tbs, so i'll start there. to be honest, i had no idea what my style reference for tbs was when i first saw your tags, and i almost didn't think there was anything specific. style references are a bit sneaky like that - if you've been referencing for someone for a long time, it becomes less of an intentional reference and more of just a you think, so it gets harder to tell.

lucky for this post, i just finished doing my yearly reread of zusak's i am the messenger, and as i was reading, i noticed a few spots where i was like wait hey i remember doing that.

for starters, iatm has been my favorite book for about six or seven years now, so i would say that some aspects of my style certainly comes from zusak because of how much i love iatm but also his other books. zusak has this huge talent for writing short, punchy sentences that convey so much in just a few words, and i think i've ended up trying to do that in my own writing. often, in my writing you'll see fragmentary sentences such as "He stopped. Blinked. Looked at her." that's not from anything specific, but i know ive written something like that maybe a million times over. zusak doesn't do the same thing - often his fragments are jam-packed with imagery in a way that mine aren't - but there's a thoughtfulness in his fragments that are in mine, too. a sort of pause. a hint that there's thinking happening in the narrator or a certain character. for example, i did a quick flip through of my copy and we have:

"We stare across the table.

Just briefly.

At each other." (I am the Messenger, p.144)

so you see how my common sentence fragment of "he stopped / blinked / looked at her" tracks with a fragment like this? i like the way zusak broke up sentences to make you dwell on them a little longer, consider the importance of each section, so i started doing that wayy before i wrote tbs i think.

also, at the time i wrote tbs, i think i was in the process of, or had just finished doing my reread of iatm, and, like i said, zusak loves imagery. tbs is a very imagery-heavy fic. tbs was influenced by a lot of music - a lot of the scenes have very specific pieces of music that i wrote imagining the tone and vibe of. iatm also references a lot of outside media sources, mostly music and films.

there are a couple of scenes in tbs that i think i wrote specifically mimicking or accidentally referencing from iatm. for example, we have this scene in tbs:

"It was almost like he could feel Marinette’s eyes on his back, steady and gentle. 'But you still love her.”

'Yeah,' Adrien said quietly, 'I still love her.' His eyes moved along a streak of purple that bled into a dark blue. 'I hate her a little bit, too.'

Marinette was silent.

He turned around, giving her a smile." (Those Benevolent Stars, chapter 3)

and this scene from iatm:

"'Do you hate me, Ed?'

Still stupid with bubbles and vodka in my stomach, I answer. Very seriously.

'Yes,' I whisper. 'I do.'

We both smack the sudden silence with laughter." (I am the Messenger, p. 233)

obviously there are differences, and i don't think i did it on purpose, but the interaction is very similar. i love the gentle intimacy of that scene in iatm, that weird complication relationship between the main character and the person he loves, the hurt, the brushing it off with laughter. so i wrote a scene that incorporated those things

zusak is also really good at writing moments of quiet into his books that aren't necessarily important to the plot, but are still important. if you've ever read that ghibli meta post talking about the 'quiet' between scenes in studio ghibli scenes, meant to give both the audience and the characters space to breath, it's like that. nothing in iatm is not imporant - it all serves a purpose, even the quiet moments, and i try to do the same thing. there's moments like that in tbs i think, like:

"Marinette gave him a small smile before turning back to her ice cream. Adrien tried to eat his ice cream a little faster, licking up where it had dripped onto his hand.

They were quiet for a while longer, and Marinette finished her ice cream. She leaned back on her hands and looked up at the dark sky, littered with stars.

He could see them all in her eyes, too." (Those Benevolent Stars, chapter 3)

and in iatm, you get scenes like:

"Our feet dangle.

I watch them, and I watch the jeans on Audrey's legs.

We only sit there now.

Audrey and me." (I am the Messenger, p.120)

so i definitely think tbs is a very i-am-the-messenger/markuz zusak-inspired fic. there's a lot of zusak's quiet, and there's the pieces of zusak's style that i've picked up along the way that really shine in tbs

tomorrow and this body's not big enough for the both of us by edgar cantero

ive talked about cantero a few times recently, but, as you've probably noticed, in relation to my fic called 'tomorrow.' i wrote tomorrow pretty soon after reading this body's not big enough for the both of us, and i used tomorrow specifically to experiment with cantero's visual writing style. in all the books by cantero ive read, there's this kind of hyper-awareness of a film gaze - how a certain scene would be shot on a camera, dialogue as script writing, and other things like that mixed with prose. i thought it was fascinating, and after finishing this body, i really wanted to play around with that idea. so i wrote tomorrow keeping in mind a "film gaze." for example:

"Two figures sitting on a rooftop, silhouettes. The moon hovers over them carefully, a crescent afraid to break the silence. One of the figures takes a breath, looks up into the sky at the hesitant moon, and he sighs. He closes his mouth again." (tomorrow)

versus in cantero's work, where we get descriptions like:

"And then, like a high-heeled coup de grace, she arrived.

She paused briefly outside the door, her hourglass silhouette cast upon the glass panel with the fresh shiny vinyl letters" (This Body's Not Big Enough for the Both of Us, prologue)

the tone of the two excerpts are very different, but there's a very visual sense to both of them, like they are being described from a shot in a movie rather than a regular work in prose. in tomorrow i also work a lot with specific camera imagery - saying where the camera goes in the scene, what it focuses on - and this body doesn't do this too much, but cantero's meddling kids does at least once that i remember.

regardless, after finishing this body, i wanted to try my hand at the visual structure that cantero uses in his works, so i really leaned in to the idea.

chat noir's white french man hit list for feminist purposes and grasshopper jungle by andrew smith

this is, as of right now, the most recent fic on my ao3, and i started it the literal day i finished grasshopper jungle. i think you might be getting a theme here - i read a really good book, and then immediately after i start writing something. the easiest way to get inspired as a writer is to read.

chat noir's hit list is a fic that is very much aware of the fact that it is a story being told - you don't know by who or for what real reason until the end, but it's a self aware sort of story. it's also very snarky and sarcastic, and it expands past just the confines of its own story; it's about chat noir and his hit list, but it also talks in depth about emilie agreste, chat noir's relationship with ladybug, and his relationship with himself. this is very much the kind of thing that you would find in an andrew smith book - grasshopper jungle is a story being told to you, and it's also about more than just the original pieces of the plot. the narrator tells the story that expands past regular confines of the story he means to tell - he's telling the 'history' of his life and his town, but he also talks about his great-great grandfather, the origins of the ketchup his girlfriend's dad eats, and what's happening in other parts of the country as he and his best friend are hanging out. the line in chat's hit list of "stars exploded, the sun did not, life continued on" was very much a grasshopper jungle and andrew smith-inspired line.

at the end of adrien's narration in chat's hit list, he says:

"It should be mentioned at this point in time that this story is not over, although I’ll stop telling it here.

So that’s the story of Chat Noir, who is also Adrien Agreste, who was very much a normal boy, except for the fact that he wasn’t. It’s a sad story, but it is also a happy story, and it is highly confidential. I’m sure you understand." (Chat Noir's White French Man Hit List for Feminist Purposes)

and at the end of grasshopper jungle, as the main character is closing out his narration, we get:

What I have written here is not the history of Eden. It is the history of the end of the world. All real histories will be about everything, and they will stretch to the end of the world.

The end of the world started when Andrej Szczerba slid into the cold sea as his boy, Krys, watched and wept and drifted closer and closer to the United States of America.

Nobody knew anything about it." (Grasshopper Jungle, p.382-3)

It's not overtly similar, but the structure is the same: recognition of the end, short summary of where we started and left the story, tag phrase that was used prior in the work. when i was writing the end of adrien's narration, i didn't mean to mirror grasshopper jungle so closely, but sometimes things just happen that way - honestly, so many of the things i do in my writing aren't intentional, they're subconscious. when i make a conscious choice, it's related to plot or to a new strategy im applying to style or voice that i'm not used to, but a lot of the things i do fly under the radar in my brain unless im purposefully trying to piece them apart like i am here.

i will say the meta-story of chat's hit list was pretty directly inspired by grasshopper jungle because i love meta stories, and i like using opportunities to put them in. i just love the idea of reading a story of someone telling someone else a story, which is what the two books by andrew smith i've read have been, and i think that's just fascinating, which is why i used it here.

ive gotten a couple of comments on chat's hit list that liken the narrative style to pseudonymous bosch's the name of this book is secret and lemony snicket's a series of unfortunate events, which i thought was really interesting, because i was purposefully trying to make the voice an impression of andrew smith's voice adapted to the tone of ml, but i could definitely see their reasoning.

andrew smith, like i mentioned before, likes specifics - what exactly people were doing at certain times, where a specific bottle of ketchup came from, etc. from what i remember of the name of this book is secret and a series of unfortunate events, i remember the descriptions included in those books chock full of highly specific, snarky details that aren't truly necessary, but do a whole lot in terms of adding a certain flavor to the narration. i won't try and look up examples from unfortunate events and the name of this book, but here are a couple examples:

"See, the thing about Emilie Agreste, formerly Emilie Graham De Vanily, is that she was what could be generously called a ‘radical.’ Born in 1969, like most amazing and world-altering things, Emilie Graham De Vanily grew up in London alongside her twin sister, who is a nice enough woman and who is not really that important to this story, and she was raised with the firm and gentle hands of people who had witnessed war and cruelty and had found that they did not like at all. Emilie Graham De Vanily grew up learning about the true history of England, which is not a very nice history, truly, and she grew up knowing that people with white skin like her were historically not all that great. That, historically, was a very radical thought." (Chat Noir's White French Man Hit List for Feminist Purposes)

from chat's hit list, and this:

"In 1905, being seventeen years old made you a man. In 1969 when hungry Jack fought in Vietnam, seventeen years old was a man. My brother, Eric, who was somewhere in Afghanistan, was twenty-two.

Krzys Szczerba came across the Atlantic with his father. They planned on working and earning enough money so Krzys's mother, brother, and two sisters could come to the United States, too. People who did that were called Bread Polacks. They came here to make money." (Grasshopper Jungle, p. 68)

from grasshopper jungle. once again, obviously very different, but you can tell im playing around with that same feeling of giving a surplus of facts in my narration in the same way that andrew smith does. you can't really tell in the grasshopper jungle excerpt, but oftentimes the surplus of 'facts' serves almost a comedic effect, which is definitely something that you can feel in chat noir's hit list.

[REDACTED] and six of crows by leigh bardugo

as a reward for sticking around through this, i'll give out something fun here. the current long fic that ive been working on recently has proved to be very bardugo-inspired, particularly six of crows-inspired.

in six of crows, bardugo gives us action right off the bat and then integrates flashbacks into lulls of action so that there's never truly a dull moment. i found [REDACTED] to be a fic where i wanted to use flashbacks in a similar way, so that i would get something like:

"She doesn’t stay for the whole parade, but she stays for enough of it. Nothing unusual happens, just like always, but she still makes cursory patrols around the city, ending up at the Eiffel Tower, just like always. She sits on the railing way up at the top, and she crosses her ankles, swinging her legs back and forth and humming softly to herself as she watches the sun set.

'Little kitty on the roof, all alone without his lady,' he used to sing when he’d gotten back to their meeting point from patrolling his half of the city before her. It was just a silly little song, one that he’d clearly made up for himself."

It didn’t hurt until he’d been akumatized, and she’d seen that one version of the future - the one where he’d destroyed the whole world because of Gabriel Agreste. She’d seen him then, a lonely figure in white, humming his little song to himself. Who knows how long he’d been like that before she’d been transported to him, how long he’d been really and truly alone. (REDACTED, chapter 1)

and in comparison, we get a lot of scenes in six of crows like:

"Kaz leaned against the ship's railing. He wished he hadn't said anything about his brother. Even those few words raised the memories, clamoring for attention. What had he said to Geels at the Exchange? I'm the kind of bastard they only manufacture in the Barrel. One more lie, one more piece of the myth he'd built for himself.

After their father died, crushed beneath a plow with his insides strewn across a field like a trail of damp red blossoms, Jordie had sold the farm. Not for much." (Six of Crows, p.205-6)

bardugo uses most of the flashbacks during a time in which the main characters are on a long sea voyage, which means they have a lot of time to reflect on their pasts and what brought them to these situations - it's a smart way to fill the empty space of the sea voyage and to really dwell on how important the voyage is. in a similar way, i chose to use the flashbacks in dull or lulling moments in the events of the story, ones in which marinette lets her mind wander or sees something that makes her remember something specific.

however, here's a situation where you can see me adapt the style into something that makes more sense for me, personally: in my excerpt, the tense changes between the current events and the flashback events, while in bardugo's excerpt, the tense stays the same at a comfortable past tense. when i was writing my fic with the flashbacks, i thought the constant, sometimes abrupt, switching would get confusing, so i made sure to always have a clear line using the past and present tense that readers could consciously or unconsciously take notice of.

so there are a couple of instances within some fairly recent fics i have that have specific callbacks to specific books. there are a whole bunch more, i think, but these are the ones that ive played around with intentionally the most recently or the most often.

3. Future Days

based on my recent rapid experimentation in fics (the most recent four fics on my ao3 have been very experimental in comparison to most of my works), i really anticipate a lot of growth in my overall style. ive been having a lot of fun experimenting and throwing in things that a few years ago i would've never even thought of, so im really excited to see where that might lead me, style wise.

i think as a writer there's always room for growth and learning, and that kind of growth and learning comes from not only practicing writing, but also reading. i cannot stress enough how valuable and impactful reading is on writing. considering ive been trying to read a lot more than i have been in recent years, it makes a lot of sense that ive been making a lot of weird decisions and learning more about what i want to see in my own writing.

honestly, if you ever want to know about any of my other fics, or you want to see how this kind of thing translates to my original works, just shoot me an ask! this post is already long enough, so i think i'll go ahead and end it here, but just know you can always ask questions<3

thank you so much for asking me this question and letting me indulge, and thank you for reading!!!<3<3<3<3

[normal-thoughts-official]

With a little help from your friends (the help is praise kink and the friend is your boyfriend)

Who would have thought that fucking your boyfriend senseless cures dysphoria.

Alternatively: being a dom is actually something that can be so gender,

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Pairing: Andy Kang/Tom Sato

Additional tags: let's see, mild mentions of transphobic and racist comments, Comfort Sex, the filthiest comfort sex uve ever seen but WHATEVER, dom andy kang, sub tom sato, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dom/sub Play, Collars, Praise Kink, basically someone says transphobic shit and then tom rides him and talks about how wonderful andy is, except tom has also been in denial for a few days and he's super horny, and andy gets in domspace and everything is great and nothing hurts, Fluff and Smut, Humor, cuz u know these two are incapable of taking anything too seriously, Established Relationship, oh they're both in college and they go to the same college cuz i said so, set after the events of it lives beneath, that's it I think, trans author if that matters to you

Read it on Ao3

Andy isn't having a great day. It's not a terrible, clawing-at-his-chest-trying-to-deal-with-dysphoria kind of day, but he's been trying out this "not comparing everything to the worst possible scenario" thing his therapist has been talking about, so still, not a great day.

The thing is, he thought college would be easier. And it is, in a lot of ways. For starters, there is no evil monster spectre trying to kill him, which gives college at least 5 points over high school. And his uni has a pretty solid queer club, so he knows other trans people there. Some of them are even non-white. Some of them he even actually, truly likes. And most of the time, he feels like he has a place to turn to, and people to support him. He's not alone. He has people who get him. And that makes all the difference.

But basketball is still a nightmare, and his knee still hurts when it's cold, and winter is officially starting now.

People still hesitate to pass the ball to him, and it's frustrating, because Andy fought so hard to earn his old team's trust and now he's back at square zero. And well, Andy has been gaining this team's trust, because he's good, goddamn it, and his team owes at least the last three victories to him. He's not hesitant to say that, especially because otherwise no one will. And he can see that they look at him differently now - nod at him in the hallways, at least, talk to him in the locker room, pass him the fucking ball if his position is very, very open.

But if he weren't trans and Asian, he wouldn't have had to work so hard to get all of that - or well, just that, really. He has a full sports scholarship despite the fact that he had a broken leg, had to retake his last year of high school, and doesn't even have the body type for basketball. If he weren't Asian, if he weren't trans, his team would have assumed his greatness from day one. Instead, he has to show it to them time and time again only to get them to reluctantly admit maybe he's not bad. No one calls him "triple threat" anymore, but he still has to work three times harder than anyone else, and it's frustrating.

And usually Andy can deal with it, but right now his knee hurts, and he can't afford that because he'll lose everything he's worked for if his teammates know that his fucking knee hurts. So, he braved training and then he got the fuck out of there without even changing so no one would see him wince. Which means he's still in basketball shorts, which are short, in the cold, which means his leg hurts more.

At times like these, he's thankful he never got the chance to go through with his promise to break his other leg kicking Noah's ass. Because he would have, and then both his legs would be hurting right now, and two legs that hurt every time it's cold is just too many legs.

No comparing to the worst possible scenario, he tells himself. Therapy is so hard. If he had known there would be homework, he would have thought twice about going.

And that's, apparently, the cue for his phone to go off. Andy smiles, knowing who it is even before he opens the message, because only one person messages him during class, and it's the only person he wants to hear from right now.

Tom <3 sent you a message

Grinning like a fool, he opens it.

Tom <3: dude, im horny af rn. the fuck

Finally, good news, Andy thinks, smiling. Then he remembers why Tom is so horny, and suddenly this day is great, actually.

He quickly types a reply.

You: who wouldve thought that 3 days of denial would make this happen

Tom <3: ill have u kno i was very good at holding it together before today

You: yeah, dw. soon u wont have to hold it anymore ;)

Tom <3: that flirt was terrible, dude

You: said the guy whos calling me dude for the second time in this conversation

Tom <3: what else should i call u? 😩

Andy thinks for a second. Tom and him do longer-term denial every once in a while, but they aren't in a 24/7 relationship. Does Andy really want to go there right now? Yes. Well, that was fast. Okay then.

You: how about "sir"

Tom's reply comes fast as lightning.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

Andy smirks at himself.

You: uve been hoping that id say that, havent u?

Tom types for just a little longer this time.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

----

Many things are wrong with the world, and Andy doesn't mean to make light of the other things, but the fact that Andy can't simply go and fuck his boyfriend whenever he wants is definitely one of them. It should be, like, financial compensation or something. We're so sorry the school environment is transphobic, here, have a free sex pass. Sounds fair to him. But instead, he still has two hours of classes to go through, and Andy is a better guy than he wishes he was, so he tells Tom to pay attention to class instead of sexting him, because he doesn't want Tom to struggle even more with his course when he had already had to leave it once. God damn true love or whatever.

The point is, by the time classes are finally over, his day is back to not being that great; he's tired, and his leg hurts. He gets to their car after Tom does, and Tom takes one look at him, and says, "I'm driving".

Andy crosses his arms. "Why?"

"Because your leg hurts," Tom answers, rolling his eyes and taking Andy's bag from him and putting it in the trunk.

Andy looks down at his legs. He wasn't limping. There aren't any bruises. How the hell-

"It's cold and you're in shorts. I'm not an idiot, dude."

Right. Yeah. Right. Of course. Tom knows. It's… It's alright.

"Bad day at training?" Tom asks, slowly, sympathetically, and Andy feels himself settle in his skin a little bit.

"The usual," he answers, getting inside, and, as always, Tom gets the hint.

---

Their uni's dorms are gender-segregated because these guys have still not gotten the memo that people of the same gender fuck; and Andy wasn't willing to deal with cis college guys' bullshit, much less cis college girls' bullshit; and the uni wouldn't let him simply pick Tom as his roommate. So, they rented out a beat up apartment right next to it instead. It took a little longer to get there, but it wasn't a lot longer, and well, it was worth it.

Tom gets inside, still carrying Andy's bag because he's transphobic and unfair and had taken it and bolted up running so Andy wouldn't have a chance to argue with him. And Andy can't run after him with his leg hurting, which kind of proves Tom's point that he should carry Andy's bag. All in all, Tom is the worst, and he turns up the heat as soon as he gets inside and sits Andy down on the bed, kneeling in front of him to take a look at Andy's knee.

He's silent for a while, massaging his knee until Andy sighs and throws his head back, before Tom plants a little kiss on his knee and looks up at him. Andy's knee always stops hurting when Tom kisses it better. It's a little embarrassing, if Andy is being honest, but still- nice. Really nice.

They stay for a little longer like this, Tom humming and massaging his knee and Andy not meeting his eyes, until the question inevitably comes.

"What happened?" Tom asks, not letting up with the smooth movements of his hands, his eyes big and sincere with worry.

"Nothing. Just the cold. You know how my knee gets."

"I meant, for you to leave practice without putting some warmer clothes on."

Andy looks away. "It was nothing."

"Dude, are you expecting me to go, 'okay, yeah, that totally makes sense and I believe you', or…?"

Andy laughs, despite himself, and throws his good leg up in an almost-kick to pretend he's retaliating. "Don't be an ass."

"I'm not. Come on, Andy. You know you can tell me."

"It's nothing, it's just- Kyle-"

"Oh boy."

Andy laughs. "Yeah." But then he grows serious, "the thing is, he doesn't mean any harm, you know? I know he's not saying it to hurt me, and so that just means that, like... that it's true."

Tom's hands stop their movements, rubbing soothing circles around his knee instead. "What did he say?"

Andy doesn't look at him. "He asked me why I didn't stay on the women's team. Said that I could have an advantage, cuz Asian people are androgynous anyway, so no one would notice that I was taking hormones."

Tom just stares at him in shock for a moment.

"And I was like, 'dude, I've been on T for three years, I'm pretty sure they would notice the changes'. And he was like, 'yeah, but you still look like a lot of Asian girls with short hair, you could write it off if you wanted', and I just…" He trails off.

Tom waits in silence for a second, seeing if Andy finds his words, before asking, "Is Kyle, like, okay?"

Andy scoffs. "I didn't try and fight him, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I mean, does this dude have a screw loose or something?"

"He's very bad at figuring out what is or isn't offensive, yeah, but it's not like he really cares, he just won't go out of his way to antagonize me."

"No, I just- Andy, even when you were a little kid with huge pigtails, anyone would have to be crazy to see you as a girl."

Andy bites the inside of his lip. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not. It's just wrong, man. It was so obvious that it was wrong. Anyone could tell. There's nothing about you that says 'girl' to anyone who's looking."

Andy sighs, finally risking looking at Tom's eyes. There's overwhelming sincerity there, and Andy instinctively looks away. "I guess. Maybe. I don't know. It just got me thinking... Maybe T didn't change anything. Maybe I look exactly the same, maybe it was just hopeful thinking that had me thinking it would change anything, maybe it's just- pointless to even try-"

"No, no, come on," Tom says, and the interruption is so sudden it makes Andy look at him again, just in time to see Tom shaking his head vigorously. "There's no way you believe that. What about this bad boy over here?" He smiles, reaching out softly to caress Andy's neck. "You have more of an Adam's Apple than me, dude. And we both know you don't need T to be a guy, but thinking it made no difference is just crazy and you know it. What about those dry pecs? These broad shoulders of yours? Your voice, I mean, come on. You even smell different, man. How can it be pointless, if even your scent is different?"

Andy looks to the side again, but he can feel himself smile. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Tom gets up, but stays close, putting his hand on Andy's cheek, slowly, as if testing the waters, before turning him slightly to look at him. "Andy. Kyle is an idiot and a transphobic racist who's too damn lazy to realize how fucked up he is. And you shouldn't have to deal with that, and I'm sorry, and I will set him on fire."

Andy laughs. "You can't keep threatening to set every shitty teammate I have on fire."

"I can, because it keeps making you laugh," Tom says, smiling. Well. Andy can't argue with that. "My point is, you wouldn't listen to a word this dude says if it were about anyone else, so don't listen to him when he talks about you, okay? T or no T, you're no girl, and you don't look like a girl, and regardless of whether or not Kyle's dumb ass noticed it, your transition has been doing you good. Remember when your voice started to crack and get all weird? I've never seen anyone be that happy about it."

Andy laughs. "It was pretty awful."

"No, it was great, 'cause you loved it. Do you want me to pull out the 'before' pictures we took in case this happened? Look at yourself, dude. You fit so much better in your own skin, you know? And like, you've always been gorgeous, but-"

"Come here," Andy interrupts, pulling him down because Tom is standing and Andy is sitting and Andy is already height-challenged. And Tom goes willingly, carefully straddling Andy's lap and meeting him in a kiss. Finally, Andy thinks.

Tom kisses him softly, slowly, one hand resting on the back of Andy's head and the other draped lazily over his shoulder, as he usually does, all gentle and a little hesitant, and Andy is having none of that. So he grabs Tom's hair and deepens the kiss, bringing him closer until their chests are flushed together and he can feel Tom's hips mindlessly making little circles against Andy's belly.

They separate - or well, stop kissing, really, because Tom is still as close to Andy as physically possible, and Andy feels about ready to shoot anyone who tries to push him further away. Tom's a little breathless, and his hips are still making these almost imperceptible movements against Andy, and Andy realizes that he's still grabbing Tom's hair and that he's a little breathless, too.

Tom looks down at him for a second, as if debating something with himself, before saying, "and like, not to be horny during a serious moment, but since we're talking about the effects of T... Andy. Andy. Your clit. Fuck. It's so huge now, and it's got a visible head and you can fuck my face and everything, and I could sing it praises for a week and probably will if you don't stop me right now."

"Hmm, but I like it when you sing me praises," he smiles. "Keep going."

"God, I was hoping you'd say that. Do you have any idea how much I've been thinking about it today? I didn't hear a single word anyone said to me, all I could think about was you fucking my face, pulling my hair, making me worship you and beg to be allowed to suck you off, I wanna serve you like you're my God." Tom's hips start to jerk up, more visibly this time, shameless, and see, this is why Andy's been really, really liking this whole denial thing - Tom has only started to explore his subby side recently, a little ashamed of it to admit it to anyone, even himself. But when he's horny enough, he gets shameless and desperate about what he wants, and god, nothing is more beautiful than Tom when he asks for what he wants. He feels something growing inside of him, not sure if it's warmth or heat, but seeing Tom like that, wanting him, needing him, definitely makes him feel so much better.

"Yeah?" Andy asks, tracing a finger over Tom's shoulder, close to his neck, just to give him goosebumps.

"Fuck yes, I want it so bad, and you deserve it too, Andy… Sir. You're the best Sir I could ask for, I just want… Want you to use me, want you to cum on me, want to kiss you all over and worship you and pleasure you, you're so gorgeous..." He hides his face in Andy's shoulder for a bit, but his hips don't stop moving. He whines, "Andy..."

"Address me properly," Andy snaps, feeling the edges of worry clear from his mind and giving way to that wonderful feeling of clear-mindedness, of power, where nothing matters but his own pleasure. "And maybe I'll give you what you want, if you earn it."

Tom nods, hips full on thrusting now, and Andy snaps again. "Stay still."

And he does, immediately, without question, biting his lip and keeping his eyes shut with effort. Andy can feel his thighs clenching and spasming over his, trying to keep himself from moving, trying to be good. He hums in appreciation, but doesn't praise him for it, not yet.

"I'll get you ready," Andy explains, before reaching to Tom's hair, and starts to undo his bun, as slow as possible, just to watch him squirm. He gets so impatient when Andy undresses him, which is why Andy never misses a chance to drag it out.

He begins by removing Tom's jacket, sliding his hands slowly over his shoulders, then down his back, feeling the firm muscle there, digging his nails just a little bit so he can see Tom's eyes flutter in bliss. When the jacket falls to the floor, Andy begins circling the hem of his shirt, sliding until his hands are back on front, fingers just close enough to Tom's cock for him to feel Tom tense in his hands, so damn sensitive to his touch, so needy. God, he can't get enough of this, but he pretends that he doesn't notice, lets Tom try and keep himself together as Andy's hands slide over his belly, then chest, over the shirt, collarbone, wrapping and resting on Tom's throat just so he feels the threat of it, before Andy finally grabs the back of the shirt's collar and tugs, taking it off. Then he slides his hands back down, making sure to run a finger just over the sensitive spot where his pecs end, then lower, over his ribcage, belly, hips, next to the bruises where Andy had grabbed him the night before, then back to the middle, just over the bulge in his pants, and Tom finally breaks and jerks up slightly, letting out a little moan.

"Sir," he whines, "please, please, I-" Andy continues to circle the head of his cock with his finger, "please!"

"Patience," is all he says, before going back to his painfully light movements, imagining Tom's needy cock twitching under his fingers, imagining the effort Tom makes not to thrust up or keep begging for more, just because Andy told him not to. "You know how much I like playing with your pretty little cock. You said you wanted to serve me, didn't you?"

"Yes- yes, Sir."

He hums, noncommittally, not looking at him. "Good." He teases the tip of his clothed cock some more, enjoying the way his mind zeroes on that, the way he feels like he has all the power and the time in the world. Finally, he pats Tom's thigh once. "Get off, and take off the rest of your clothes. Get the lube and a condom."

Tom gets up, a little shaky, and does as instructed, while Andy reaches down to the drawer under the bed where he keeps his dick's spine and a few of their toys. He gets the spine, then adjusts his packer briefs so he can put it on - best purchase of his life, really, those briefs. So much easier to use than a regular strap-on and it makes the packer sit over his clit just right, making a little suction and pressure. Andy couldn't be happier that he was already wearing them.

Tom gets back with everything he asked right in time for Andy to finish making his dick hard, and goes on to put the condom on and cover Andy's cock in lube with the kind of attention that makes Andy hold his breath. Tom's so careful, yet eager, and adoring, about it. Andy feels like the hottest guy in the world.

Once he gets permission, Tom sits on his cock, slowly, getting adjusted to it - admittedly, Andy went a little overboard when he bought his first cock. Andy waits until Tom is fully seated, littering his neck with little kisses and praise for how well he's taking him, how pretty he looks, until Tom looks fully comfortable and ready to start complaining if Andy doesn't start fucking him in earnest soon. That's when Andy shows him the other item he pulled from the drawer - Tom's favorite collar.

Tom's reaction is instantaneous. He throws his head back, moving over Andy's cock as he lets out a breathless, almost choked moan; the hands he had resting on Andy's shoulders suddenly squeezing full force in his need.

"God, you're such a whore," Andy says, casually, and Tom nods, even as he flushes. The collar is just a simple black one, with a little hoop for the leash, but inside they had it engraved with the words Andy's whore, and it left visible marks that could be seen for a few hours after they took it off. It never failed to drive Tom crazy, so it always drove Andy crazy, too. "Stay still," he warns, and Tom nods, breathing heavily, gripping Andy's shoulder as tight as he can as he stays frozen in place. Andy slowly puts it around his neck, checking with his finger to make sure it's not too tight, and the second he clasps it in place, Tom's whole body relaxes, a content little sigh escaping his lips, his face slack and blissed out. He likes being owned, so much. Andy can't get enough of it. "Good?" he asks, just to make sure it's not too tight.

"Perfect," Tom answers, the words leaving him in a sigh. Andy then ties the leash to the headboard, making sure that they're just far enough from it that he'll be feeling its pull the whole time. Tom lets out a moan. "Thank you, Sir."

Andy smirks. "Now, here's what I want you to do," he says, "you're going to ride me, just like that, and you're not going to come until I tell you to. You're definitely not going to come before I do. If you come close, you'll have to tell me. I want to hear you scream, so make as much noise as you want. Do you understand?"

Tom nods again, almost dizzyingly quick. "Yes, Sir."

"Good, then get to it."

Tom doesn't need to be told twice. He starts riding him, slowly at first, trying to find the perfect angle for Andy - not himself, Andy notices, pleased. Once it's perfect, Andy orders, "faster, slut,” and Tom obeys, as always, working up speed as he tries to keep himself upright, feeling the tug of his leash with every movement, moaning the whole time. “Good boy,” Andy says, and Tom’s responding whine is high pitched, embarrassing, needy. He gets even faster then, starting to babble as he keeps on working, and Andy just stays casually in place, not having to do a single thing while Tom works to give him pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so perfect, did you know that?" Tom asks, quickly sliding down on Andy's cock, making sure he puts all this weight in the end so Andy's cock will press down against his clit just the way he likes, making sure to go as deep as possible, "I've been dreaming of your cock for days, god, Sir, nothing's better than this," he hides his face in Andy's shoulder, speeding up even more, thighs shaking with the effort, and Andy puts a fist in his hair and pulls, watching as Tom throws his head back and lets out a scream, working even faster on Andy's cock. "Sir!," he whines, "oh, thank you, thank you, feels so good, oh my god, please, I'm gonna-"

"No, you won't," Andy interrupts, "I'm not even close to coming yet. Keep working, slut."

"Y-yes, Sir," he whines, going faster, deeper, and Andy makes it harder for him, keeps pulling at his hair to expose his neck, litters kisses and bites on his exposed throat, grabs his thigh and squeezes hard enough to bruise so Tom remembers he's his, his whore, his toy.

"I love it when you get like this," Andy says, doing his best to keep his tone even, even as he's a little breathless from pleasure, from power, "I bet you want to come so bad, don't you? If I'd just give you the word, you'd be making a mess of yourself, coming on my cock right now-"

"Fuck! Yes, yes, Sir, please, I'm so close."

Andy smiles. "No."

Tom whines, so cute, adorable, and Andy is nice enough to leave a little kiss on his shoulder, grounding, calming him down. Before going right back to torturing him, "no, you don't get to come for a long time yet. I want you just like this, on edge, tasting it…" Andy grins. "Tell me how close you are, baby."

"I'm- I'm so close-"

Andy slaps him in the face. "You can do better than that."

"Fuck, I feel like I'm going to explode, I'm so close, I want it so bad, and you feel so good, God, you have no idea what you do to me, Sir, your cock is so perfect, it hurts, I need it- need to cum on your cock, Sir, please-"

"No."

Tom chokes on a moan, and starts to go even faster. He lets out a little whine, something Andy thinks was supposed to be a word, but doesn't come close.

"See," Andy says, "this is why I won't let you come. Look at you - every time I tell you no, you get so desperate, so obedient - it's what you want, isn't it? You want me to keep telling you no, you want to know your pleasure doesn't matter, that you're just here to serve me."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes-"

"Good, then keep going. And beg all you want- I like telling you no, too."

Tom does. He begs, and he says thank you when Andy denies him, again and again and again. Thank you, Sir, thank you for using me, for putting me in my place, I'm yours, I'm yours. And he keeps on praising Andy, praising his cock, his body, the way he fucks him and uses him, no one else makes me feel like this, no one deserves to be worshipped and served like you, Sir, I want to make you feel good-... Until even the clear-minded state of domspace begins to crumble and Andy feels nothing but pleasure, and confidence, and power, and he cums to the sound of Tom praising him and begging, once, twice, three times, until his head is clear again and everything, even the need to chase his own pleasure, is gone, and he just feels perfect.

"Stop," he orders Tom, who's still babbling more and more incoherently, endless praise and worship, and Andy finds that he worships Tom right back. "I want you to get my cock as deep inside you as you can, and stay still. I'm going to play with your dick for a while, and when I tell you to, you can come. You did well today, baby."

Tom nods, suddenly struggling to use his words. "T-thank you, Sir," he says, already frozen in place, thighs clenching with the effort not to move and also shaking with all the effort he did before.

Andy coos. "Poor baby. You were so good to me today. Let me take care of you."

"You always- always do, Sir," Tom replies, and Andy smiles.

He gives Tom a long, slow handjob, making sure Tom stays still through it, enjoying the way his thighs shake on top of Andy's, the pressure of Tom sitting tight on his cock, the way his arms also shake with effort where they rest around Andy's neck; Tom's pretty, exposed throat all marked up around his collar, his breathless little whines as Andy makes sure to do it just the way he likes it, makes his cock turn red with need; watches Tom bite his lip, because when he has to keep still he becomes so quiet and needy, even as the little whines go through his lips… Until Andy finally says, "come for me, baby," and Tom screams through an orgasm that lasts almost a minute, hanging on to Andy as tightly as he can to keep himself anchored through the pleasure.

And then Andy holds him, and Tom holds him back, and they hold each other.

----

A while later, they've cleaned up Tom's cum so it doesn't get all sticky on Andy's chest, and Andy's finally taken off those damn briefs - they're great for sex, but get pretty tight when you wear them for a long time - and Andy holds Tom against his chest. He's humming, contently, and if anyone had told him at the beginning of the day that he'd be comfortable enough to have someone close to him while he's fully naked, he'd - well, probably assume they meant Tom, but still be skeptical.

"How do you feel?" Tom asks after a little while, finally opening up his eyes and saying hello to the world.

"That's supposed to be my line," Andy laughs.

"I feel great. Perfect. Next time, I wanna do it for longer. A week? Let's try a week. Or two weeks…?"

Andy laughs. "Let's not make too big of a leap yet."

"Fine. A week sounds good. Great. And now that we've established that denial is totally bomb for me, how are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I'm feeling great, too," Andy admits, playing with a little stray of Tom's hair, swirling it around his finger, "I think I needed that, a little bit. Who'd have thought that having you ride me and praise my cock cures dysphoria."

"Every trans top on every forum I've ever visited."

"Let me have my moment of realization," Andy mumbles, faux-annoyed. Tom just laughs, holding him closer.

"I'm just glad I could help," he says.

"Please tell me you didn't ride my cock just to help."

"Well, no, in case you hadn't noticed, I was horny as fuck. I just tried to, you know. Use that to give you a little push. Since you wanted to. Y'know. Also, it was all true. So..."

"Thanks, love," Andy says, earnestly. "I love you."

"I love you more."

They bicker about it, and Andy's smiling the rest of the day.