#i literally had to retype this entire fucking response

[thequibblah]

⭐️ would love some commentary on that dancing scene (or really any commentary on the various parties thrown by the marauders) from the party happening next to the Potions Club party ⭐️

WELL WELL WELL

"This is...a lot of trouble to go to." "It's the Marauders. They love trouble."

i love writing party scenes (as i'm sure you all know lol) and one of the best/worst things w the marauders parties is striking a balance between their, uh, audacious plans, and what's realistically possible at hogwarts without getting caught. (aka literally why i made up the dodgy lodgings). i went back and forth so long on whether or not they could plausibly have managed that with slughorn's dinner next door, but then was like ah whatever the party has to happen for plot reasons so.... plot ex machina??

anyway, i love using parties to establish character — what a brilliant stage of teenage performance they provide. i love contrasting the hogwarts parties to, say, evan wronecki's — for instance, how lily and co. are more at ease in the former, as seventh years, with their classmates hosting, than they were at evan's nye bash

i also love that it gives me space to establish who is and isn't popular, so to speak, but also who acts or doesn't act the way we presume popular kids will act

doe, for instance, who is by all accounts a level-headed and non-wild person, has a more exciting time on net at marauders' parties than mary (drinking game, kissing remus), though she's not a big drinker and isn't really into parties. but she's comfortable in her own little social circle at a bigger event (like with michael at evan's) and so isn't bothered at all by the marauders' do, because...

She did, in fact, trust the Marauders. Her general belief in the inherent goodness of people notwithstanding, she didn't think they would do anything to harm their friends. Intentionally.

this bit always makes me laugh

as with many things, i feel very saddened that i didn't get to make more out of the fools' olympics (although one could argue that The Dance was a pro) — as in, i wish i'd been able to squeeze more of it into the story itself. i could probably come up with a list of tasks and who completed them LOL

WAIT OH MY GOD I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THIS it just might be my favourite part of this chapter

"How did you do that?" Gillian said, glancing between the other two girls. "Just — drink it without a second thought?" "Practice," said Mary. "Scottish — constitution," David said hoarsely. "I once drank some of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mass Remover," said Priya.

priya is all i aspire to be

can i say, too, it's hilarious to me how many people worried niamh would be a james love interest? i feel like you will not rest easy on that count until he and lily are together... but that is not where the danger lies babes

circling back to popularity/unpopularity, another fun outlier. gillian is first established, in 33, as someone with friends (we see her around sara and in the seventh-year ravenclaws' compartment) but she's not exactly at ease at the party either — recall how she hesitates when mary invites her. only later, in 38, do we realise that our opinion of her has been skewed by the narration (from doe, who naturally assumes any friendly, nice person must have a wealth of friends and be floating through life; and mary, who naturally assumes anyone she isn't bored by must have the social skills of a medieval noblewoman at court), and she's a bit of a pariah in her own house

david, on the other hand, is just flat-out not in his element. and not because of the drinking or the, er, general revelry (see: summer with mary!), even though he doesn't partake much in either. unlike doe, the company breaks rather than makes his enjoyment — he's acutely aware, the whole time, that his cooler, more liked brother is around:

"Not your scene?" "What gave it away?" said David drily. As one they looked at Chris...

...and mary has intuited as much too, even though she has a lot more in common, superficially speaking, with chris than david

so, i think while i was writing this chapter i made a post complaining about how, as much as i love juggling the constraints of historical fiction, i hate that music from the 70s limits me in terms of tracklists. i.e., when i say a certain record is playing i can't just hit shuffle and go somewhere entirely different to set the mood shortly thereafter

this problem was because i wanted, NAY, NEEDED, to have "martha my dear" playing in the aftermath of that mary and david interaction. of course, time passes in that section break, but since "come and get it," which they talk about it, is a sirius song (though it could be a mary song), and i feel too strongly about needle drops to let that conversation go without a soundtrack. germaine even correctly guesses the white album is on because of mary:

Apparently Mary got fonder of the White Album the drunker she was.

...and of course the song itself makes me squeal with how very mary it is — not that it is something she would listen to, necessarily, or identify with (it would hold up too close of a mirror, ha), but it sounds like it could've been written about her ("hold your head up, you silly girl/look what you've done/when you find yourself in the thick of it/help yourself to a bit of what is all around you," which really sums up the entirety of her portree holiday, lol)

BUT! if "martha my dear" is to play here, then i have some Serious Chronology Concerns. i knew germeline had to kiss and jily had to dance and ideally in that order. but what would those scenes be soundtracked by!!!! i was limited to side two of the white album!!!

so i did the healthy thing and panic-listened to the white album. "don't pass me by" was, right away, an easy lock for the dance, because it's danceable, but not in a way that would've scared lily off. lyrically, it feels GREAT for jily in this moment, on the cusp of lily's realisation ("waiting for your knock, dear [...] i don't hear it, does it mean you don't love me anymore?" vs OF COURSE "don't pass me by [...] 'cause you know darling, i love only you"). i feel about "don't pass me by" the same way as NYT critic nik cohn: it's "straight ahead and clumsy and greatly enjoyable, backed by a beautiful hurdy-gurdy organ," which, if that isn't everything i wanted to evoke with the dance itself!!!!!!

ok we'll circle back to this, but onward with the musical discussion

thus i had four songs to choose from, between "martha my dear" and "don't pass me by," for the germeline scene — "piggies," "blackbird," "i'm so tired," and "rocky raccoon." the latter is on my sirius playlist, so auto-no; "piggies" is, well, like that, so also a no. "blackbird" is a certified germaine classic that was written personally by paul mccartney for germaine, but it seemed too introspective for the moment. i don't think i'd ever listened to "i'm so tired" before this panicked searching, and honestly it must be some wild luck that it is. just SO RIGHT!!!! it's so lethargic and tortured and angsty and, well, a bit of a stoner song, so.... it's THERE

AND NOW for the dance! true story, i initially wanted jily to have a real conversation, after the party. i had the dance in there and then james would catch up with lily after to be like, "hey i was wrong actually, you should write to petunia." but then i realised i wanted james and sirius to have a conversation about the bike/money, and i wanted it to strike a different chord, tonally, than the jily conversation. then i realised it would be too much to have both and i'd need to condense that conversation into the dance. VERY nearly cut the dance in favour of the conversation but wow i am glad i didn't

The tinkling piano signalled the start of the next song; she extended a hand, very matter-of-factly, to James, "Come on, this is a good one."

not pictured: james having a fucking breakdown

obviously, i could have gone the route of a genuine dramatic dance, but as previously mentioned lily would have chickened out, and i wanted to have this be an experience she could look back on and pine about because of how fun it was and james totally doesn't like her back

Loath as she was to admit it, this most indelicate of waltzes suited the plodding chords of "Don't Pass Me By." And worst of all, once they had stopped stepping on each other's feet James started to sing, in the poorest possible Ringo imitation she had ever heard in her life.

by the way, attentive readers of blink three times will recall:

He finally starts to lead — thank goodness, because she’s not the one who was forced into formal dance lessons as a child...

so in 36, this is james being drunk, but it is also james being silly on purpose because not only is he JAMES and so he must take the mick, he also knows it will put lily at ease

okay, and this bit:

"Don't pass me by, don't make me cry, don't make me blue," they both shouted rather than sang, "'Cause you know darling—" Lily broke off, laughing, dimly aware that she had done so to avoid saying I love only you while staring right at him.

from the FIRST MOMENT i picked out "don't pass me by," i knew i knew I KNEW that lily would have thoughts about this line. at this point in the story if someone questioned her about it she would probably have a full-scale breakdown about her male friends vs her female friends ("but no... i suppose i wouldn't mind saying it to remus.... but that's different!" how is it different, lily? "it's different!")

anyway, the bottom line is she could NOT abide saying it. i enjoyed writing that because 1. same girl and 2. it felt like a nice bit of close foreshadowing for her realisation, which i knew was coming soon. so that's a really circular way of saying, i knew what it meant but ideally to readers it was just oh this will mean something far-off in the future!!! which is usually true for me but SURPRISE babey it was just two chapters away!!!

note btw that lily "falls for james"

Lily spun faster than she’d intended to. The room was a brief, kaleidoscope blur. Then there was James. “Jesus, Evans,” he said, steadying her as the next track began.

>:)

and after i thought tracklists would fuck me up, i turned them into my WEAPON!!

Huffing, she stepped out of his arms. (There were some songs you could sing along to with your mates, and “Why Don’t We Do It In The Road?” was not one of them.)

(so, you know, keep in mind that for the rest of this conversation, paul is in the background howling "no one will be watching us/why don't we do it in the road?")

also:

"...I’m not drinking tonight, but I’d better get the royal treatment after we win on Saturday."

and then what happened <3

wait jesus oh my god i really went hard on this huh

She only saw its result: the easy grin had given way to an expression so serious it was almost sweet.

LILY??????

and hey, remember when:

...because in chapter 26:

Dex’s measured opinions about the wizarding world seemed more the result of upbringing and inexperience than ill will, but Lily had not expected a radical change of heart.

...but then in 36:

He was right, damn it. And a part of her had known all along, had sought him out expressly so that he would say the opposite thing to her. He’d gone and proven her wrong. She broke the staring match first [...] “What brought on the change of heart?” “It’s a long story, and I expect it’ll have an unsatisfying end if I told it to you.” Lily scoffed, but James had on that maddening grin that meant he would not budge. “Oh, all right.” Softer, she added, “Thank you.” He began to back away, towards the bar. “It’s give and take, Evans.”

in conclusion, i never forget, besties

[achubbydumpling]

Modern Bucky is fat and Steve’s sugar baby. Steve likes to spoil him. :3

eyy only took me a month and a half to answer 😂😂 I'm sorry, nonnie, but I'm highjacking your idea and using it for today's chubtober prompt :D

(I ended up having a lot more ideas for this than I could actually finish writing in time, so this ends pretty abruptly as soon as Steve and Bucky actually meet)

[unfinished] Oct 3: Masks and Malfunctions

Rating: Mature Words: 1911 Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Sugar Daddy AU, Daddy Kink, Belly Kink, Weight Gain, Verbal Humiliation, Stuffing, Corsets, Age Gap

Bucky’s phone chimed and he didn’t even have to look at the screen to know that “Steve” just sent him more than enough money for the costume Bucky wanted. He didn’t actually know if that was the guy’s real name, but he’d been funding Bucky’s lifestyle since the beginning of college and Bucky wasn’t about to fuck that up by questioning the guy’s identity.

If this were a normal Halloween party Bucky would have just bought a random costume at Spirit Halloween, but his kinda boyfriend Jonas (it’s complicated) had invited him as a plus one to an actual masquerade ball. Bucky didn’t even know those kinds of things existed outside of fantasy novels, but right now he was at a high-end clothing store getting an “appropriate” costume.

[Bucky] Thank you, Daddy❤

Bucky texted Steve and then went back to trying on another dress shirt. This one had a looser cut that reminded him of something the male love interest in a period drama would wear or a pirate.

“Wonderful choice,” the store clerk told Bucky when he stepped back from the mirror. Bucky would probably never get used to having someone help him pick out clothes, but the higher-end stores Bucky had been to all offered this type of assistance.

“It drapes very well,” the clerk said with a sneer on his face. Bucky turned back to the mirror. Yes, he had to admit he’d fallen victim to the freshman 15. A small belly was rounding out even against the loose fabric of the shirt, but he didn’t actually feel self-conscious.

Steve had complimented him on every single one of those pounds. Bucky probably wouldn’t even have noticed all the changes to his body if Steve hadn’t been constantly talking about them. Bucky had never put much effort into maintaining his physique, but being hyped up by Steve over the smallest changes of his body made him feel desired and his heart fluttered every time his sugar daddy complimented his thicker thighs and soft belly.

“Any other suggestions?” Bucky asked and the clerk scoffed.

“A corset,” he muttered under his breath, but Bucky’s ears pricked up at the suggestion. His first instinct was to text Steve. Bucky didn’t know why it was important for him to know Steve’s opinion when Bucky was going to the party as someone else’s plus one, but excitement stirred in Bucky’s stomach at what Steve might say.

“Sure, get the corset.” Bucky sent the clerk on their way and then sat down to text Steve. He could feel his belly straining against the shirt buttons now that he was sitting down and he snapped a picture of the way the buttons on the otherwise loose shirt were straining over the thickest part of his belly.

[Bucky] Daddy~ they’re telling me I’m fat

[Bucky] they said I need a corset

[Steve] You will look incredible either way.

Annoyance prickled at the back of Bucky’s neck from the generic compliment.

[Bucky] that’s not what I asked

[Steve] You didn’t ask anything.

Bucky rolled his eyes at how literal Steve could sometimes be, but Bucky also didn’t know how to ask for what he really wanted to hear.

Some of his classmates had teased him for his weight gain and instead of making Bucky feel insecure, the hot shame had shot straight to his dick and he’d had to excuse himself to deal with the problem. Since then Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Steve telling him those things.

Bucky didn’t even know what the guy looked like, but he’d quickly developed a crush just from texting him. It was actually fun to talk. Bucky couldn’t understand how the guy was single when he seemed like this perfect, interesting and kind guy—and rich on top of all that.

There has to be something wrong with him, but so far Bucky hadn’t been able to figure it out. Not for the first time Bucky wondered who Steve actually was, but his thoughts were interrupted when the clerk came back with three different corsets.

All the same material and color, just different cuts. Bucky’s eyes were immediately drawn to the tiny waist cincher—just tall enough to cover the widest part of his belly. Despite his grumblings the clerk helped Bucky lace up the corset and when he looked in the mirror he couldn’t believe it was him looking back.

His entire body shape seemed different. From the billowing sleeves of the shirt emphasizing his wide shoulders to the waist cincher doing an excellent job of making it look like he still had a waist instead of the soft belly that was hidden underneath. The simple black slacks he was wearing completed his outfit. Simple colors, just black and white.

The mask he had chosen matched as well. A deep midnight black that contrasted with his piercing blue eyes and gold detailing that caught the light when Bucky turned his head. He snapped another picture for Steve, but didn’t wait for his response. Bucky could still hardly believe that a single outfit could be this expensive, but Steve of course had transferred enough money to pay for it. On his way home Bucky finally checked his phone.

[Steve] What did I tell you? Incredible.

[Bucky] better than without the corset?

[Steve] This feels like a set-up.

Bucky groaned at Steve’s response. Of course, Bucky would luck out and get the sugar daddy that won’t humiliate him for gaining fifteen pounds before the semester was even over and wasn’t that a personal revelation. Bucky had never thought of himself as someone who could want something like this, but since gaining weight he had become more aware of his body—and how others perceived it.

[Bucky] it is

He quickly pocketed his phone after sending that text. Bucky immediately regretted it. He’d had a good thing going with Steve. Why risk fucking that up? His phone vibrated multiple times, but Bucky was too worried to check his messages until he got home. As soon as he’d closed the apartment door behind him he fished his phone out of his pocket.

[Steve] What does that mean?

[Steve] If you don’t want to continue this arrangement, you can just tell me.

[Steve] Bucky.

[Steve] Answer me.

[Steve] What do you want me to say? That you’re a spoiled pig? That you’ve gotten fat on your Daddy’s money and need a corset to look good for your little boytoy?

Bucky’s throat went dry as he read Steve’s message. The wave of lust that crashed through him, threw him off balance and he sat down heavily on the bench in the entry way of his apartment. He read the message again. And again. His dick gave an interested twitch. It was embarrassing how much he reacted to Steve’s words.

[Steve] Is that what you want?

[Steve] Don’t leave me on read.

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He typed and retyped the same message again until another one from Steve popped up.

[Steve] ‘Yes’ or ‘no’? It can’t be this hard to type one fucking word.

Bucky couldn’t breathe. Steve had always been kind and considerate, it made Bucky’s heart race to see this side of him.

[Bucky] Yes.

[Steve] Thank you, but we will talk more about this tomorrow.

Bucky’s phone chimed to tell him, he should be on his way now if he wanted to get to the party on time. His mind was still caught up in foggy arousal, his cock tenting his slacks. It’s too much, he wasn’t thinking straight and Steve wasn’t even here—wasn’t even touching him. Just a text and Bucky was a mess.

At least the walk to the subway station helped to clear Bucky’s head and chase away some of the immediate, burning need that had been burning in his guts just a few minutes earlier. It left him frustrated, but slightly more level-headed and in a more appropriate mood to be out in public.

When Bucky met up with Jonas outside the high-rise office building the guy was already wasted. He was surrounded by his office buddies and Bucky was honestly about to turn on his heel and go back home when Jonas called out to him. With all his mates there Jonas treated Bucky like another one of them and Bucky was already over the metaphorical dick-measuring contest that was happening whenever one of these guys opened their mouth.

Once they got inside Bucky split off from the group, Jonas didn’t even seem to notice. So, he explored the venue. The party stretched across multiple floors. The bottom floor was full of rich and wanna-be rich people schmoozing and socializing, barely anyone of them had stuck to the masquerade theme and Bucky kept debating whether he should take off his own mask.

He was much more comfortable on the upper floor. There were less people here and most of them kept to themselves. He felt less out of place when he noticed that most of the people here stuck to the masquerade theme, there were only a few people who’s face wasn’t at least partially hidden behind a mask.

Jonas didn’t even shoot him a quick text to ask where he had disappeared to, so Bucky was more than ready to just find whatever food this place offered, eat for free tonight and make the best of the situation. He didn’t know what he’d expected dating someone his age, but Bucky was done settling for anything and he made a resolution to break up whatever was going on between him and Jonas.

When Bucky finally found the buffet that was standard for these types of events, he couldn’t stop himself from loading up two plates and searching for a quiet, secluded place to eat. At this point it had become a reflex to send Steve a text whenever he sat down to stuff himself.

[Bucky] found the food

He sent a picture with his hand next to the plates to give Steve a sense of how big they were. Some guy’s phone went off as soon as Bucky hit send two tables over and for a moment Bucky wondered if that’s Steve.

He had a commanding presence even sitting down. Bucky could tell he’s a gym buff from his ridiculous shape. His shoulders looked almost double the size of his waist. As well as the large plate of food in front of him. This man needed to fuel his body with all those calories, but Bucky was eating more than him and only planning on getting fatter. Bucky dug in.

His little costume went from fitting perfectly fine to too tight within half a plate of food. The corset was throwing a wrench into Bucky’s plan of stuffing himself. He already felt full before he had even really gotten started. The blond guy from two tables over caught Bucky’s eye again. He was frowning at his phone and looking back up at Bucky.

[Steve] What are you doing here?

[Bucky] what do you mean?

Another phone chime from two tables down. Bucky re-read the text two times before he looked back at the blond guy. No way that’s Steve. That would be too much of a coincidence, right? Bucky sent another message and the guy’s phone went off again. For a moment Bucky contemplates just getting up and walking away, but then Steve was already out of his chair and walking up to Bucky’s table.

[obaewankenope]

"I read a fic a while ago that had Az and Crowley painting the bookshop and when Az rolled up his sleeves, Crowley was "tempted" and now I cannot stop thinking about the concept. Az tempting Crowley? Entirely on accident? On purpose? His temptations being more gentle than a demon's and has a lovedrunk affect? Him using it to get Crowley to do absolutely anything (after getting full consent ofc)? My new kink" -retyped by fucker so you can respond properly to an incredible prompt

Okay, thank you fucker for resending me this. To the original nonnie, my sincerest apologies for tumblr fuckery. Now onto the prompt! [AO3]

.

Thebookshop needs painting. Well, it doesn’t. The paintjob it’d had in the earlytwentieth century is still good—in Crowley’s opinion—but it seems thatAziraphale feels it needs a little updating[1]. Crowley’s suggestions ofcolours are all clearly ignored by the angel who putters about the bookshop,arranging books here and there so they are out of the way of the paint. Aroller and some rather nice looking brushes are on a small side-table with twotubs of paint in shades Aziraphale refuses to allow Crowley to see just yet.

Crowleyis seriously considering a miracle to find out the colours because come on all ready angel! You’re takingforever when Aziraphale does something rather unexpected.

Heremoves his coat.

“Angel?”

“Hmm.”

“Whatare you doing?” Crowley is rather proud of the way his voice doesn’t catch orwaver and is exceptionally thankful he’s still wearing his sunglasses—thanksomeone for the sunshine today—because he is rather shamelessly staring atAziraphale calmly placing his coat on the back of a chair.

“WellI can’t exactly decorate with my coat on now, can I?” Aziraphale gives Crowleythe look one usually receives when the person they’re talking to thinks they’veasked a rather stupid question; one with a clearly obvious answer that doesn’tneed stating aloud. “I’d hate to get paint on it.”

“You’rean angel, you can literally miracle it away,” Crowley points out, shifting onthe sofa he’s claimed as his ever since the bookshop opened.

Aziraphalefrowns at him. “But I’d know the stain was there,” he says and that’s a pout onhis face, the same pout Crowley has seen on Aziraphale’s face when the angelwants something but won’t actually ask Crowley for whatever it is. It’sthe Please Indulge Me pout and Crowley hates loves it fiercely.

Crowleylets his head flop back so he can’t see Aziraphale anymore, the gesturehopefully conveying to Aziraphale that Crowley is done with his behaviourrather than overwhelmed by looking at his angel without his coat. It’s- it’s-it’s obscene really. Aziraphalewithout a coat on. The soft beige tone of his overcoat is something Crowley hasactually found rather pleasant to see and he’s long grown used to Aziraphalealways wearing it.

Withoutit, the angel seems—if Crowley were ever to admit it aloud—rather vulnerable.Meek. Mild. Things that Aziraphale must assuredly is not.

Hestares up at the ceiling, resolutely ignoring the sounds of Aziraphale makinghis way about the bookshop, the noise of the roller in the paint-tray, thescrape of paint-bristles on the wall. They blend together in a gentle sort ofmelody, a calming tune that has Crowley relaxing into the sofa more and moreuntil his body does that thing where it twitches in an awkward way and bringsyou right back to alertness.

Crowleylifts his head, easing the ache in the back of his neck from having his headback for so long, and looks in the direction of the working melody he’s beenlulled by. He’s greeted by the sight of Aziraphale standing on a small set ofladders, the type with only two steps, body stretched as he reaches the edgesof the wall and spreads paint along the top—cutting in, humans call it.Aziraphale is, for an angel, not quite as fit as he probably ought to beaccording to Gabriel the fucking archangel who thinks the perfect form for anangel is himself. Crowley finds Gabriel to be actually quite repulsive. He’s ademon, he can sense sin and Gabriel—oh so mighty and bright and Holy Gabriel—isbrimming with sins both big andsmall. It makes the archangel repugnant for Crowley who is of the opinion thanan angel should be—well—Holy and goodand kind and strong. All the things that Aziraphale just so happens to be[2].

Butback to the view Crowley has of Aziraphale right now. It should be fine—it’s a view Crowley can somewhat appreciate with thesafe distance of being on the sofa away from the object of his gaze, securethat at least he won’t make an utter fool of himself with his gawping—but unfortunatelyfor Crowley, it seems that the universe has decided to both tempt and destroyhim in one swift act. Namely, Aziraphale with his shirtsleeves rolled up to theelbow, wrists and forearms naked for all the world to see, and two top buttonsof his shirt at the neck undone to allow him to breathe better without hisbowtie in the way. It is, Crowley can admit, a mesmerising sight, but it isalso a sight that has Crowley hissing out at the flare of Desire that flashesin his body, making him want to reach out with his long fingers and touch thatlovely revealed skin.

Suchbehaviour is most unbecoming of a demon but very typical for Crowley and,thus, the demon known as Crowley is stuck staring helplessly at a decadent-lookingprincipality who has no idea the affect and effect he has onsaid demon.

Orthat’s what Crowley thinks at least.

Outside of the perspective of Crowley, thedemon from hell who is a serpent and creator of original sin, it is much easierto witness the fact that Aziraphale, principality and guardian of the easterngate of Eden, is very much aware of the effect he’s having on the demonCrowley. It is, to put it bluntly, very entertaining for an all-seeing,all-knowing being to witness. A good way of passing the time that unfortunatelyhad to be made in order for mortality to be a thing.

Theonly thing the omnipotent and omnipresent being is missing is some popcorn butcreating popcorn out of nothing can be a bit hit-or-miss[3].

Dueto the demise of Crowley’s only braincell, it is easy for the demon to miss theway Aziraphale subtly glances at the reflection of said demon in the window tothe angel’s right; a window that provides a fantastic view of Crowley on thesofa at an angle it otherwise shouldn’t be able to provide. But that’s whatmiracles are for, aren’t they?

Aziraphale,meanwhile, is seriously contemplating calling for Crowley’s assistance justmoments before he has to stretch a little further to reach a little higher withthe paintbrush. The principality had considered simply miracling the bookshop paintedbut had, ultimately, decided otherwise after one evening at the Ritz when he’dnoticed Crowley’s rather distracted focus on his wrist when Aziraphale had spilthis wine and fussed over the ruined cuff of his sleeve. Crowley’s eyes,actually on display for once due to Aziraphale’s insistence, had been quitedilated—almost like a cat’s actually—and the golden ember colour bled beyondthe usual limits Crowley allowed it.

Aziraphale,that evening, had come to a series of conclusions regarding Crowley that haveled to this moment in the bookshop wherein his dear friend is currently a uselessheap of feelings on the sofa while Aziraphale steadily redecorates his bookshop.It is, considering everything, a case of “two birds, one stone” consideringAziraphale has been fretting over how to broach this Issue with his long-timefriend and… something else, but has dithered rather typically over the natureof how and when.

Removingseveral layers, rolling up his sleeves, and undoing buttons at his throat hasbeen remarkable effective in leaving Crowley in such a state that Aziraphale iswondering if it was a good idea to possibly rile the demon up so with so littlewarning on his part. But then, of course, the principality turns his head andcatches Crowley’s gaze—even through sunglasses, Aziraphale always knows when heand Crowley are looking each other in the eye—and makes the split-seconddecision that yes, yes it is a good idea and no, no he shan’t stop any timesoon.

Fromthe tertiary perspective here, we can witness the exact moment Aziraphale makesthat decision and the rather lustful tint to those angelic blue eyes that hasCrowley’s body burning even more than it was before although Crowley himselfconsciously misses the lustful tint. The benefit of having a subconscioussmarter than you, apparently, is that it reads cues and responds accordinglylong before your singular braincell is capable of even noticing said cues.

Itis a good thing Crowley is the curious sort by nature lest he be even moredysfunctional than he already is. And it is also a good thing that Aziraphaleis just enough of a bastard to recognise this fact and utilise it at the mostopportune of moments.

“Crowley,you know you could help,” Aziraphalesays, loudly and pointedly, with an arched brow and Crowley—dear, awkwardCrowley—makes a rather amusing sound that has Aziraphale wishing to smile. Hedoesn’t, but he does quite wish to, if only because Crowley has such a look on his face and it’s ever soamusing. Endearing, even.

“I-uh- angel,” Crowley says, as though that is a coherent response although,considering it’s from Crowley, that is acoherent response. Either way, it forces Aziraphale to roll his eyes at Crowleywho seems to find the act something else to make sounds over. “Right.”

“ReallyCrowley, what has gotten into you?”Aziraphale asks innocently. He’s not at all innocent or apologetic but it isentertaining nonetheless to pretend he’s oblivious to the effect he has onCrowley. “You seem all out of sorts dear.”

“Ngk.”

Aziraphaleraises an eyebrow. How fantastically eloquent of Crowley. Truly.

“Asalways, dear, I’m in awe of your commend of the verbal word,” Aziraphale drawlsand he sees the moment Crowley’s brain kicks him, recognising he’s being insulted,and the angel bites the inside of his mouth to avoid smiling. Trust Crowley tocome back from wherever his mind has wandered off because of an insult.

“Oi!I’m- I’m plenty good with words, angel!” Crowley sits forward on the sofa, shoulderblades up, chest arched, head positioned in the way Aziraphale has witnessedsnakes do in the past. Predatory posture. It’s ever so enticing for Crowley to dothat—makes Aziraphale’s own instincts flare a little.

Crowleyhas his tendency for all things serpent but Aziraphale has a certain fondnessfor all things avian. It makes their relationship all the more surprising and endlesslyfascinating. Any omnipresent and omnipotent being would find themselvesnaturally caught up in examining and analysing such a connection even if saidconnection weren’t between an angel and a demon who helped thwart the end ofthe world.

“OldShakespeare wasn’t anywhere near as gifted as them historians like to think!”Crowley scoffs. “Gave him half his bloody sonnets myself.”

“Oh.”Aziraphale gives him a look, purposefully pausing in his painting to lower thepaintbrush and he’s very aware of how Crowley’s eyes follow his arms, the waythe demon’s chest heaves a little harder than it typically does and the angel smiles. “I don’t believe you evermentioned that.”

“Well-uh-” Crowley fumbles. “I- didn’t think you’d be interested,” the demon finisheslamely.

“Iam.”

Aziraphaleplaces the paintbrush on the tray, a minor miracle ensuring it won’t get allpainty on the handle or dry out and descends the little two-step ladder. Theangel crosses the space of the bookshop, intimately aware of how Crowley’smouth opens a little, tongue barely darting out past those teeth of his andAziraphale remembers reading about how snakes smell. They use their tongue.

Witha thud of his heart, Aziraphale sits down primly beside Crowley who shiftsautomatically, instinctively, to accommodate the angel beside him. A snap offingers and they both have a cup of tea each—Aziraphale is uncertain that winewould be a good idea at the moment; though he is tempted.

Crowleygulps the tea while Aziraphale politely sips at it, the angel watching the waythe demon goes at the cup like one would go at water when dying of thirst. Hewaits just long enough for Crowley to gain some measure of control over himselfbefore purposefully reaching out and laying a hand on Crowley’s arm, a little bitvindictively pleased at the way Crowley shudders beneath his hand.

“Shareone of those sonnets that are yours?” He asks though it’s more of a commandbecause Crowley—for all that the demon insists he is a demon and evil and thusobeys no one—has always caved to Aziraphale’s demands; usually with somewhining and complaining but seldom has Crowley refused him. Now is another timewhere Crowley caves to Aziraphale and it probably has more to do with the wayAziraphale’s thumb is stroking lightly on the smooth material of Crowley’ssleeve, his golden-pale skin offset beautifully against the dark black ofCrowley’s clothes.

“’kay.”

Thisis the point, readers, where things Change with a capital C for both angel anddemon. Perhaps it’s the metaphorical dropping of a penny, or some other metaphorthat conveys the sense of realisation, but both Aziraphale and Crowleyrecognise the Shift in their relationship at this very point in time. It is apoint that they will both think back on in years to come and smile rathergoofily. At this precise point however, we have Crowley beginning to blush,fingers fidgeting with the fine bone china cup in his hand, while Aziraphalestares at Crowley’s face and his thumb continues to stroke the soft fabric ofCrowley’s sleeve. It’s an intimate, emotive scene and ever so suited toadmissions through poetry if I do say so myself.

“Devouringtime, blunt tho the lion’s paws,

Andmake the earth devour her own sweet brood;

Pluckthe keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s Jaws,

Andburn the long-lived phoenix in her blood.

Makeglad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st,

Anddo whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed time.

Tothe wide world and all her fading sweets.

ButI forbid thee one most heinous crime;

O,carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,

Nordraw no lines there with thine antique pen.

Himin thy course untainted do allow

Forbeauty’s pattern to succeeding men.

Yet do they worst, old time;despite thy wrong

My love shall in my verse ever liveyoung.”

.

.

[1]Considering how out of date Aziraphale himself happens to be, it’s no stretchof the imagination to assume he means a slight change in the shade on the wallsto update it by a ten year margin or something else equally out-dated in theeyes of the modern world today.

[2]Gabriel’s hypocrisy when it comes to the Ideal Angel Form is no where moreapparent than when you look at Sandalphon who is short, snivelly and lessappealing to look at than a sack of rubble dumped in the Tiber. Crowley hasstated this to Aziraphale before, multiple times and rather directly, over somewine and thus has witnessed the amazing sight of Aziraphale spitting out hiswine and laughing himself silly. Crowley isn’t quite sure what is quite soamusing about his derision of Sandalphon but it amuses Aziraphale and he’s okaywith not quite understanding when Aziraphale is happy.

[3] Last time there was the matter of an accidentalearthquake and we wouldn’t want that to happen again now, would we?

[gayexistentialcrisis]

Tumblr Connections Ch.6

**As always, thank you to my amazing beta @judgemental-llama and a reminder that this story is also on AO3 with the same name**

One minute I’m on top of the world, then the next I’m at rock bottom.

TJ traced his eyes over the words, leaning back in his computer chair as he sighed. What am I doing anymore? He thought about Cyrus, his warm smile, the way his mere presence made TJ weak in the knees, and then he thought about the boy he had been talking to online. I’m starting to feel the same for him as I do for Cyrus… Suddenly his phone started buzzing from where it presided next to his keyboard and he picked it up. Speak of the devil. Hitting accept, he raised the phone up to his left ear, leaning his cheek against his opposite hand.

“Hey Underdog. Do you need something?” He asked softly, his heartbeat immediately speeding up when he mentioned the other boy.

“Teej! I can’t call you just because I want to talk?” Cyrus asked, his voice sounding light as he laughed softly. Damn this boy… I’m falling hard for him.

“Of course you can. It’s just… we were literally together like an hour ago.” TJ said, his voice taking on a teasing edge. He wasn’t complaining. He could talk to Cyrus all the time and never get tired of hearing his voice.

“I missed you. Simple as that my not-so-scary-basketball-guy. Besides, I’m bored. Wanna come over?” TJ could hear muffled sounds on the other side of the phone and he knew the younger boy had just laid on his bed. Okay TJ, little creepy. You need to calm down.

“People might think we’re dating. We are together all the time.” The basketball player mentioned, not fully able to stop the hopeful tone his voice took on. Holding his breath he waited for Cyrus’ response.

“Oh never! You’re my best friend and I enjoy spending time with you. That’s all. Nothing more. Nothing less either. I mean does that make sense, because you know-“ Cyrus began rambling, breaking TJ’s heart more and more with every word. Never…

“Okay, yeah I get it. I’d never be interested in you either, don’t worry. I’ll be over in an hour. Bye.” TJ said bitterly before pulling the phone away from his ear to hang up, not giving Cyrus the chance to answer. He threw his phone down onto his desk and groaned loudly before slamming his fist down onto this desk, hissing in pain after he did.

“Oh fuck…” He mumbled to himself, cradling his hand to his chest. That’s going to for sure leave a bruise.  Remembering he never answered Cy back, he opened his messages on tumblr through his computer and smiled at what he saw.

Cy: Okay, not that I’m complaining… but are you okay? Do you want to talk about it? Ducky is an idiot for not wanting you.

Smiling, TJ remembered how he had come up with that name for his -no not his- Underdog. He was watching a movie with his family and they were watching The Land Before Time (Amber had voted for it) and he remembered how much Cyrus loved dinosaurs. Thus TJ started referring to him as Ducky (one of the characters) in his head and online.

Tris: Uh, no I don’t think so. I’d rather not talk about him at this moment. How are things going with your dear Lemon?

TJ hesitated before pressing send, wondering why he really didn’t want to know about the other guy. He’s just an online friend right? I don’t even really know him. He thought, leaning back to run his fingers through his hair as his eyes stayed trained on the blinking cursor on his screen. Sighing as he leaned forward, TJ held his finger to the backspace key, deleting his question before sending his message. Before he could retype out his question he shut his laptop with an audible thump and pushed his chair back to stand up and head to his best friend’s house.

The entire duration of his walk there, the only thing filling his mind was a constant battle of Cyrus vs Cy. Flipping back and forth between his online friend and his real life friend, his mind came to a screeching halt and he stopped dead in his tracks. Cy...rus? Could Cyrus really be Cy? Shaking his head, he continued walking, seeing Cyrus house enter his view. No way, he would’ve mentioned Tumblr at least once by now. Cyrus doesn’t keep secrets. Stuffing his hands into his pockets he made it the rest of the way to Cyrus’ front door and hesitated. He knew he could walk right in, but for some reason, it felt wrong doing that today. Ringing the bell he rocked on his heels while he waited for the door to open.

“Teej? You do remember you can just walk in right?” Cyrus said as soon as he opened the door, a confused look etched onto his features. TJ nodded his head awkwardly and shrugged, squeezing past Cyrus to get inside the house.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Must’ve forgotten.” He said softly, leaning down to untie his shoes before slipping them off and carefully placing them beside each other next to the door. Standing up straight again, he glanced at Cyrus to see him scrutinizing him before shrugging slightly and heading upstairs to his room.

“So the GHC is having a movie night here on Friday if you would like to come.” Cyrus said once they were up the stairs. TJ coughed slightly and nodded before realizing Cyrus still had his back to him. Dumbass he thought, closing his eyes tightly as he flushed with embarrassment.

“Of course I’ll be there. When have I ever missed an opportunity to hang out with my boy.” TJ said before he could really think about what he was saying. He heard Cyrus draw in a quick breath and his eyes widened as he realized what he had said. Quickly turning, he went to Cyrus’ desk and sat in his chair, he knee knocking against the desk and causing the laptops screen to light up. Out of curiosity, TJ turned and scanned the screen, his heart dropping down into his stomach as he realized what he was reading. It was Cyrus’ tumblr page- correction Cy’s and he had just made a post before TJ arrived at Cyrus’ house.

Dear Lemon,

*I’m jumping on this train with my mans Tristian*

When I look at you, I see endless smiles. I see secrets, whispered with a breathy laugh and a chaste kiss. I see us, lounging at my house while I make you watch Love, Simon with me over and over as I shamelessly cry. I see us, hanging out with my friends, laughing at whatever new stupid thing I say.

I see us, but I also see him. I see him being there for me when you aren’t. I see him comforting me when you lash out at me again and I’m crying while blaming myself. I see him and I see a possibility of a future, not just the slight chance I could ever have with you. I want him.

I see him, but I love you even if you don’t love me.

Reading through, TJ couldn’t help the tears that filled his eyes. He hastily wiped his eyes and closed the laptop softly. He remembered the post he had made about Cyrus. It was basically the same thing Cyrus (or should he start saying Cy?) had posted, calling out how he knew there was something going on between him and Ander, how he was losing hope. He just never expected… this.

“Hey Cy?” He said softly, still not wanting to come face to face with the person on the receiving end of his crush. He could hear Cyrus shuffled behind him then a hand was placed on his shoulder as he flinched.

“Yeah Teej?” Cyrus asked, concern lacing his voice as TJ shrugged his hand off his shoulder. He cleared his throat and stood up quickly, knowing the chair into Cyrus in the process, causing him to groan at the impact.

“Oh! I’m sorry Underdog, I didn’t mean to- I just- Is there anything going on between you and Ander?” He rushed out, reaching forward to place his hand on Cyrus’ upper arm in a form of comfort. Cyrus furrowed his brows and shook his head, stepping forward to wrap his arms around TJ’s middle. Hesitating slightly, TJ wrapped his arms around Cyrus shoulders, resting his chin on top of the smaller boys head.

“That really hurt Teej. I am fragile you know.” Cyrus mumbled against the basketball player’s chest. The statement causes TJ to chuckle, shaking his head a bit before pulling back to look at Cyrus who glanced up at him. He caught a small flicker of Cyrus’ eyes, his own eyes drifting down to Cyrus’ lip momentarily before swallowing thickly as he hastily brought his eyes back up to the brown eyed boys. He didn’t know who had leaned in first, but before he knew it he could feel his nose bump against Cyrus’, their lips less than an inch apart. All he had to do was lean forward a little more and-

Cyrus jumped back, his face turning a deep shade of red as TJ’s phone began ringing loudly and he groaned, pulling it out of his pocket, checking the caller ID before answering.

“Amber, what do you want I was a little- woah. Calm down. What’s going on? Stop crying and talk to me dammit!” TJ’s face morphed from one of annoyance to one of panic and concern. He turned to Cyrus, his eyes wide. “I’ll be there soon okay? I’m coming now.” TJ pulled the phone away from his ear and hastily shoved it into his pocket, his eyes filling with tears.

“TJ, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” Cyrus said softly, reaching his hand out towards the older boy, who stepped back.

“C-can your mom take me to the hospital? Please?” TJ said, his words bumping into one another, almost incomprehensible. Cyrus nodded slowly, grabbing TJ’s hand in his own and leading TJ down the stairs, his head swimming with the information he had just heard. TJ numbly slipped his shoes on, barely registering that Cyrus was talking to his mom behind him before walking over to Cyrus who was slipping on his jacket.

“Can you tell me what happened Teej? Please.” Cyrus pleaded, grabbing both of TJ’s trembling hands in his own as he looked up at the glassy eyed boy.

“My mom… She got in the car accident on the way home. Amber wouldn’t tell me how bad it is…” He said softly, allowing Cyrus to pull him in for a hug as he squeezed the smaller boy tightly. I could never tell him I’m Tristian… It would ruin our friendship and his post… He’s with Ander now. TJ sighed, pulling back to look down at his best friend and frowned. I never really had a chance.

*I’m sorry my lovelies! But I promise our boys will be together and happy soon enough! Don’t hate me:((*

taglist: @allicat-76 @tyrus-is-endgame-fight-me @sarcasticfirehazard @alyxandraz @unprofessionalart

[winteriron-trash]

Ok, so that fanfic questions ask meme? You wanna do ALL OF THEM?!

YES, LET’S DO IT, HERE WE GO, PREPARE YOURSELF I’m copy and pasting answers I’ve already done just so I don’t have to retype them and there’s a break because god this got long. I might link this on my About Me post, cause holy shit I spent time on this

1. What was the first fandom you got involved in?

Actual fandom? Probably DC. That’s when I started reading fanfiction and really poked my head around online communities dedicated to media and all.

2. What is your latest fandom?

I don’t know, probably Marvel? Maybe Riverdale, but I was a fan of the comics before so

3. What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in?

If I’m assuming this question is about the actual fandom and not the source material and the people in the fandom and its community as a whole? Probably the Percy Jackson fandom. Not really into it anymore so I don’t know the state of it now, but it was a pretty wholesome and positive community. Any community that calls it’s creator “Uncle Rick” has gotta be pretty dope.

4. Do you regret getting involved in any fandoms?

Oh lord save my soul for admitting I like this, but definitely Five Nights at Freddy’s. The indie gaming, creepypasta, underground subculture as a whole is something I regret getting into. Don’t get me wrong, I usually love the source material, but the fandom is just so bad. You probably know what I’m talking about, the fangirls who insist they’re insane and are in love with Slenderman or something.

But specifically on FNaF, lord, I don’t even know what the fandom is anymore. It’s a meme, a fetish, and a hellspace all at once. And I’m not gonna fucking lie, I’ve been in this hellhole long before any of that. Like, I can’t even try to escape it, I’m in it for the long haul. I was just someone who joined for the lore and now we’re here with fucking casual bongos and trash gang and fuck I didn’t ask for this. I can’t escape. I know so fucking much about the franchise it hurts my fucking soul. I remember when the FNaF 2 trailer came out and we were all micro-analyzing London Bridge Is Falling Down. I remember when Springtrap didn’t have a name and we called that fucking Spring Bonnie or Golden Bonnie. I survived that era and I have PTSD from it, trust me. I remember when we were naive enough to think FNaF 3 was the last game. I know what channels were born and what channels died because of that series. I know it all.

I’m sorry, I got off topic. BUT I DON’T GET TO FUCKING RANT ABOUT IT ENOUGH, FUCKING FUCKSHIT

Oh, and a lot of bandoms I was in too. I went through an alt phase where I’d only listen to shit like BVB, BMTH, MCR, PTV, SWS, and so on. Once again, that sort of fandom was the same as the indie/creepypasta in being ‘different’ and ‘insane’ and all that and I was no different. I was a weird fucking kid when I was like 13. I regret all of it.

5. Which fandoms have your written fanfiction for?

Marvel, DC, and a couple Riverdale. 

6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

Not in many fandoms but

Marvel - WinterIronDC - SuperbatStar Trek Voyager - Captain Janeway/Seven of NinePercy Jackson - Solangelo

7. List your NoTPs from each fandom you’ve been in.

Marvel - Stucky, Stuckony, Romanogers, Clintasha, any incest ones, (save me for admitting this) SpideypoolDC - Any batboys shipped together, Bruce/Talia

And I don’t really have NOTPs for my other fandoms? Marvel and DC are really the only two things I’m invested in the fandom of. I guess you could count Wincest as well for Supernatural.

8. How did you get involved in your latest fandom?

What even is my latest fandom? Um, we’ll just say Marvel because I’m really not into joining fandoms much anymore. Honestly, I was a big DC fan who felt the need to hate Marvel because no shit. Eventually, I just got sick of the absolute shit movies DC had and I decided I had nothing to lose by just watching Iron Man. When I watched it I realized “wow, superhero movies can actually be good???” and I just binged the entire MCU in one month and was ready to see the next movie in theatres and I think I’ve seen every single MCU movie in theatres since Civil War? Definitely since Homecoming. I gave up on DC movies. The new Aquaman looks like shit, I’m so fucking pissed they redid Mera’s look when she looked perfectly fucking fine before and now she’s oversexualized and it’s gross. I’m excited for the new DC Batwoman TV show because I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO SEE A LIVE ACTION BATWOMAN SINCE THE DAWN OF FUCKING TIME

9. What are the best things about your current fandom?

Probably the Tony Stark Defense Squad. As a collective whole, I think the Defense Squad is one of the sweetest, nicest corners of the fandom. We’re incredibly kind to each other, write great meta and fic, and it’s just a great community. Of course, there are assholes, but you know.

I might get flamed for saying this, but also the HYDRA Trash Party corner of the fandom is actually really nice? Like, they understand consent and abuse aftermath and all the real shit better than the rest of the fandom, not gonna lie. Like, for as dark as the fic is you’d expect the people to be fucking nasties, but I have never met a rude HTP enthusiast. Or even one who’s unaware of how consent and whump work. They’re all very aware and kind. It’s bizarre, considering the source material. They get an awful rep though.

10.  Is there a fandom you read fic from but don’t write in?

Literally any fandom I’m in besides Marvel and DC. I think I wrote like 2 Riverdale fics. Getting into reading fanfic and getting into writing fanfic are two entirely different ballparks. I don’t really read that much fanfic anyway, especially not anymore. I read Marvel and DC, but even then. I think it’s hard because sometimes you can’t switch off the whole ‘reading like a writer’ thing. That’s why I enjoy classic literature. I’m a slut for some good ass prose and symbolism.

11. Who is your current OTP?

WinterIron, of ducking course.

12. Who is your current OT3?

I’m not really a fan of OT3s, to be honest, I find I’m personally pretty weak with writing poly relationships and I don’t really enjoy reading them because one character is usually focused on a lot more than the other two. But if I had to pick, I would say T’Challa/M’Baku/Bucky only because I am solely responsible for the creation of that abomination and you have no idea how much people begged me for a series after the first one, it astounded me.

13. Any NoTPs?

As before listed, Stucky, Stuckony, Spideypool, Clintasha, Romanogers

14. Go on, who are your BroTPs?

IronWidow is my top BroTP, but I also like WinterWidow as a BroTP. Stucky is good as a BroTP too, as well as Tony & Rhodey.

15. Is there an obscure ship which you love?

Literally any ship I have. Yall I’ve been here since WinterIron was obscure. But to name a specific one I’m just gonna go with Pietro/Tony. I don’t know, I just had an idea I was writing for them and I was thinking about how much missed out potential there was between them. And with Pietro as a whole, but you know. Marvel has to kill off the only good Maximoff they had.

Oh, Natasha/Pepper too, but they aren’t as obscure, I guess.

16. Are their any popular ships in your fandom which you dislike?

Stucky, clearly.

17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite?

Stony, and no. They fell apart for me, at least MCU-wise.

18. What ship have you written the most about?

By now, WinterIron, I believe. I recently passed my count of fics for Superbat.

19. Is there a ship which you wished you could get behind, but you just don’t feel them?

Pepperony, probably. I think it’s actually a cute and sweet ship and I like their in-canon moments, but I just can’t get behind reading fanfic of them? It never works out for me, I don’t really get it. It sucks because I do enjoy seeing their cute moments.

20. Any ships which you surprised yourself by liking?

I’ll do a different answer I thought of besides the first time I answered this. But Thruce was a big shocker for me. I didn’t even think about it during Ragnorak but then I saw an incorrect quote for it and I was like? Oh? This? This is a good, pure ship right here. The funny thing is, I actually wrote a fic with them as a side ship long before they hit it big so like, I was shocked when they came out of nowhere. But hey, I’m fucking here for it. I’ll probably never write it, but I’m here for it. 

21. What was the first fanfic you ever wrote?

Goodnight, My Angel. It was a Superbat fic and really sad, but I still love it.

22. Is there anything you regret writing?

Probably... You Deserve Love And You’ll Get It. No, I won’t link it because I hate it that much. I’m not even gonna talk about it.  It’s my most popular fic too why

23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it.

Super dorky, but The (Un)Wanted Kiss. It’s my first finished chapter fic, and the first chaptered fic I did on Tumblr and it just brings me a lot of nostalgia. It reminds me of where I was as a writer when I started it and it was an entire fic spawned from people wanting more of a simple 500-word prompt and that just blows my mind. It reminds me of the power of fans and how much love and support I got from it. It really kicked me off as a “serious fanfic writer” I think.

24. What fic do you desperately need to rewrite or edit?

All You Are Is All I Need. That is a hot fucking mess. Probably The Red Halo too.

25. What’s your most popular fanfic?

*sigh* You Deserve Love And You’ll Get It

26. How do you come up with your fanfic titles?

I bullshit my way through them. My most recent fics have actually followed a trend of being named after songs.

27. What do you hate more: Coming up with titles or writing summaries?

Summaries. I always make them so fucking corny, I hate it.

28. If someone were to draw a piece of fanart for your story, which story would it be and what would the picture be of?

One Foot In Front Of The Other, probably. Just because I want more fem!WinterIron fanart. I can’t say what scene because spoilers but.... yeah, anything from that would be great, really.

29. Do you have a beta reader? Why/Why not?

Sort of. I make some of my friends like Pizza read over my shit before I post it, but that’s not often, only when I think I need it. I don’t just because I write a lot and I’d feel bad for constantly annoying someone with making them read everything I write. I hate inconveniencing people.

30. What inspires you to write?

The better question is what doesn’t. I never stop thinking like a writer. My brain forgot how to turn off that feature.

31. What’s the nicest thing someone has ever said about your writing?

Ummmm, I can’t think of an exact thing? I get so many beyond sweet comments and messages, it’s hard to pin down one comment. I think if I had to pick, I once got a message from someone on Tumblr who was old enough to be my mother complimenting me and telling me I didn’t write like a teenager and I think that was really sweet.

32. Do you listen to music when you write or does music inspire you? If so, which band or genre of music does it for you?

Yes, yes, yes, yes. And honestly, any genre. I listen to everything. Everything. But specifically, Emilie Autumn has inspired a lot ideas/fics I’ve written.

33. Do you write oneshots, multi-chapter fics or huuuuuge epics?

All of the above.

34. What’s the word count on your longest fic?

Around 23k, I think?

35. Do you write drabbles? If so, what do you normally write them about?

Yes, and whatever I get prompted for, really.

36. What’s your favourite genre to write?

For fanfiction, I guess romance? I mean, that’s really all my fanfiction is. Otherwise, I’ll write quite literally any genre I feel like. I go wherever an idea takes me. I’m character based, not genre or plot based.

37. First person or third person - what do you write in and why?

Third. I fucking despise 1st person. I just do. That’s an entire rant we ain’t here for today.

38. Do you use established canon characters or do you create OCs?

Usually canon characters. I only use an OC when I absolutely have to, to make the plot do the plot stuff.

39. What is you greatest strength as a writer?

Nothing. My writing sucks. All of it is shit.

40. What do you struggle the most with in your writing?

Everything. I screech the most about pacing and sentence structures though.

41. List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading:

Most of these are actually on my to-read list but whatever.

Winter's End by ali_aliska Winter is Coming (aka Fifty First Avengers Dates) by 27dragons, tisfan My Love is Vengeance by seikaitsukimizu The caged Hawk by asamandra Fertile Ground by 27dragons, tisfan

42. List and link to 5 fanfiction authors who are amazing:

27dragons tisfanChiaki_Hamano arianapeterson19 thepartyresponsible

43. Is there anyone in your fandom who really inspires you?

Not really? I’m not knocking any of the other ‘big names’ in the Marvel fandom, but I don’t really draw inspiration from other fanfic writers. Not for plot, and definitely not for writing style. I get inspiration from fanart I see sometimes, but it’s never one main artist who I stalk to be inspired, just whatever I happen across online.

44. What ship do you feel needs more attention?

WinterIron, duh. I will not rest until WinterIron is the biggest ship in the Marvel fandom.

45. What is your all time favourite fanfic?

I’ve mentioned this fic before and honestly, it hasn’t been topped yet, but  In the Company of Monsters by Chiaki_Hamano. It’s not even a Marvel fic, and it’s not even a ship I like, but god, I fucking adore it. I’d love to write something like it, but with WinterIron if I had the time, I think the entire world and setting would fit WinterIron beautifully.

46. If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why?

Well, that all depends on what they’re looking for in my fanfiction. If they’re looking for WinterIron, I’d probably tell them to start with The (Un)Wanted Kiss just because that’s one of my most loved fics and I think I did really well with it. But if they just want a general fic, A Great Connection is one I’m really proud of and I still get gushing feedback about.

47. Archive Of Our Own, Fanfiction.net or Tumblr - where do you prefer to post and why?

For just writing fanfic, Ao3. Tumblr can be a pain in the ass, and I don’t even use ff.net.

48. Do you leave reviews when you read fanfiction? Why/Why not?

Yes. But only if 1, I really, really loved it or 2, I don’t think the fic has enough attention. It also helps if the writer responds to comments. I don’t see the significance of saying “I loved this!” if the fic has dozens of other comments saying the same thing. As a writer, I know what comments writers prefer. Longer ones, deep comments pointing out what things they liked, and so on. However if I write a comment that long, I like to get a response because you know, I love seeing the writer talking about the elements of the story I liked. 

49. Do you care if people comment/reblog your writing? Why/why not?

Not really, to be perfectly honest. Yes, I love and cherish every kudos and note I get, and the sweet comments make me want to die of joy. But I write for me. Even when I take prompts, in the end, I write because it makes me happy. Yes, I love the validation. But even without it, I would still write. I do not write fanfiction for you, I share fanfiction with you. There’s a difference. Writing makes me happy. If I only cared about the validation, I wouldn’t have a folder reserved of fics I’ll never post but I wrote just because I wanted to. I write to write. The moment I start writing for validation, I might as well stop writing, because it’s not worth it.

50. How did you get into reading and/or writing fanfiction?

Ummmm I think I was just curious? I was new to internet culture, I saw fanart of Superbat and I discovered Ao3 and was like “wow, this stuff exists??? Words for free????? About my favourite characters being happy and dating each other??????????” and it was a downward spiral. I was like, 11 when I read my first fanfiction. I was obsessed with Superbat fanart, and I thought, what would it hurt to try actually reading it? Like, that was so taboo to me. And now we’re here. Tadaaaaaah

51. Rant or Gush about one thing you love or hate in the world of fanfiction! Go!

Oh, a chance to ramble. Yay. I’m gonna rant because I’m a rant-y person.

I think something that annoys me about fanfiction is not necessarily a probably within fanfiction, but rather the outward view of it. Fanfic has an awful rep within the real world. The one-time fanfiction really took centre stage was when Fifty Shades came out, which only hurt the platform by furthering the stereotype that it’s all porn made for horny freaks who just want to get off.

I should not be ashamed to say I write fanfiction. I should not feel childish saying it to myself. No one should. At least half of my ‘fans’ are nearly a decade or more older than me. It’s clearly not something that’s immature or silly. Of course, it can be, but any hobby can be dumbed down to a kiddy version.

But fanfiction at its core is ignored for what it really is. When adults talk about fanfiction they belittle it and only see a tiny subsection of it, ignoring what it’s supposed to be about. It’s about creating transformative works for media you’re passionate about.

Fanfiction gets a worse rep than other transformative works such as fanart or whatever. Writing as a whole does. Fanfic is painted as this utter trash.

I’ve read fanfiction that made me cry, laugh, feel shit. I’ve read fanfiction that tackled heavy topics. Even on a sexual standpoint, I’ve read fanfiction that was willing to write erotica that published authors wouldn’t fucking touch. Both in a kink sense, but also in terms of how the relationship functions. I’ve read shitty fanfictions, sure. But I’ve read fanfictions that were better than 90% of the published books I’ve read. Even fanfics I didn’t like.

To put fanfiction into perspective, the average YA novel (the age group fanfiction is generally but not always aimed at) is 70k words. I’ve read fanfiction that blows that word count out of the water. And it takes fucking skill to write something that long. It’s not just writing a bunch of porn or cute scenes, that takes serious world building and character arcs.

Fanfiction kills so many tropes that are common in YA and literature in general. I read a YA after reading nothing but fanfiction for a long time and I was fucking appalled? It was a popular YA too. I won’t name what one because you could literally imagine anyone and it’d probably fit. The characters were flat, the romance was outright manipulative and toxic, the plot was dull, even the writing itself was bland. This was the type of book years ago I would’ve loved. But compared to most (of course, not all. Shit exists, but I think in fanfiction, we’re able to better filter out the shit) fanfictions, it was fucking trash.

When I started reading fanfiction, I assumed it’d lower my standards. The first time I picked up an actual novel I was relieved, excited to not have to deal with the problems that are in unpublished writings. But I quickly realized it was the complete opposite. Fanfiction threw my expectations through the roof. I expect fiction to include representation, fresh plots, interesting characters, thrilling romances, and decent fucking sex scenes if they’re there. But it just wasn’t there. It all fell flat. As someone seriously into the writing and reading community I hear so often that it’s hard for plots to be original and you shouldn’t judge on originality, but then I read fanfiction written by fucking teenagers that’s fucking mind-blowing with plot twists and original ideas, and I have to wonder is it really that hard? It’s clearly doable, you just have to take away the fanfiction part.

I have YA novels sitting on my sheld I know I’ll never read and enjoy because fanfiction just made my expectations too high. Which is good in a sense because I pray some of these amazing writers, when they get older will go on to write mind-blowing original novels and I hope that this generation of writers will put out great literature in ten to fifteen years, but for now I’m just… underwhelmed. I think it’s why I read a lot of classic literature too. Shit was better back then.

And yet despite all that, fanfiction is still made to look like shit in the modern media. It sucks so badly for fanfiction writers not to look like serious writers. I could publish one book, have it get the amount of attention my biggest fanfic got and be considered a serious author. My biggest fanfiction currently has 40k notes on Tumblr. Imagine if that were a published short story. It’d be a fucking hit. And there are others that make my numbers look small. And yet it’s brushed aside as unimpactful.

I think a lot of that stems from the fact that fanfic writers do generally start out younger. I’m 16. Others either are or were my age. But age does not equate to skill in writing. Sure, that is a factor, but it is not the entire story. I know a 14 yr old who writes some of the best prose I have ever seen. And even if younger fic writers aren’t on level yet, fanfiction is what’s helping them grow as a writer. But because we’re teenagers, we’re turned away just because of that. Even more specifically because we’re teenage girls (for the most part, I’m not saying other genders and/or age groups aren’t writing/reading fanfic) and we all know how society feels about them. It’s just a fucking shame that fanfiction can’t be respected for the legitimate form of writing it is because of the stigma. I’ve seen fanfic writers say they aren’t real writers because of the stigma, it’s awful. We feel the need to tear ourselves down for an admirable hobby. I can’t say my favourite book is a fanfiction I read, when I has every right to be a valid answer.

We’ll cut this ramble off here because wow I really went on didn’t I.