#imagine how would that play in accurately written fics

[seleneprince]

Unpopular opinion:

Remus Lupin was as capable of cruelty and arrogance as the rest of the Marauders. There are plenty of hints of this in canon. The only reason we don't see this side of him as often is because of his heavy reluctante to be considered a "bad guy".

And he low-key enjoyed going against Snape just as much, he just had some conscience aftewards.

[changbunnies]

Slow Bloom (18+)

♡ Pairing: Inexperienced!Changbin x Experienced Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: fluff and smut with a lil plot <3 a tiny bit of angst during the build up but it doesn't last long at all!

♡ Word Count: 8.5k

♡ Summary: In which a misunderstanding while cuddling leads to discovering exactly how Changbin feels about you.

♡ Smut Warnings: not intended to have overt dom/sub dynamics but i may have written bin a bit subby lol oops, references to porn watching, kinda pervy bin?, his lack of experience is not outright stated to the reader as it is implied that they already know, nipple play, thigh grinding / humping, fingering (f rec), protected piv

♡ Notes: so quite a few ppl showed interest in an inexperienced binnie fic after i posted my inexperienced chan fic and i am here to deliver <3 this was also the perfect break from the longer, more plot heavy fics i've been working on as this took a lot less mental effort :') i hope you enjoy this while waiting for those!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There aren't many things in life that make Changbin nervous. 

He navigates the world with security and confidence, sure of himself and in the actions he takes. He can speak in tense or awkward situations with relative ease, nerves never eat him up in social settings, and he's never afraid to speak his mind or do what he wishes to. 

But then there's you. You, while laying in bed next to him with an arm draped over his body and one of your legs tucked between his, make him extremely, effortlessly nervous.

It wasn't always this way; at least, not as far as he can remember. You've been friends since forever, and closeness such as this is par for the course. He's used to impromptu sleepovers, to you making yourself comfy in his space, tossing your belongings to the floor without a care before you take over his bed. 

He's used to cuddling while watching tv, to squeezing each other into tight hugs, to limbs tangled under blankets. He's used to the lingering smell of your shampoo mixed with perfume, used to the feeling of your breath tickling his skin when you pull him close, to the feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingertips. 

He's used to it, and it doesn't affect him; or so he thought.

Somewhere along the line, something within him shifted. Whether the reason lies with you or with himself, he doesn't entirely know. What he does know is that he no longer sees you the same way he did when you were growing up together. And it wasn't until that shift occurred that he realized maybe "your friend" isn't the only thing he wants to be. 

Maybe it's a natural, gradual progression from where you both began, a shift in desire brought on by new maturity and life experience. Maybe you've been this radiant and beautiful since the very first day you met, but he was too young and oblivious to realize it then. 

Maybe it's because of that strange, sharp and twisting feeling in his gut every time he sees you with a new partner. If it wasn't for you showing interest in other people, would he have ever realized at all that what he feels for you transcends what he feels in his other friendships? 

While he loves his other friends, he doesn't get jealous when they bring a new partner around, or talk about their love life to him. He doesn't spend every night lying awake thinking about them, nor does he wonder what it'd be like to kiss them. He doesn't dream about seeing their bare skin, or about touching them, about them touching him.

He doesn't imagine their tongue lavishing over him, or of returning the favor to them. He doesn't fantasize about them in dirty, naughty scenarios, during his private moments in bed or in the shower. You occupy his every thought, to the point that even while watching porn he has to close his eyes and imagine it's you making those sounds instead, replacing the scene before him with a mental image of you and him together. 

That's what makes Changbin especially nervous right now. You're cuddled up to him, as you always are when you spend the night at his place, but he can't get his brain to please shut the fuck up and stop pushing him to the brink of embarrassing himself. 

He needs to stop thinking about the placement of your hand on his stomach, just above his waistband. He can't linger on the fact that your tits are pressed against him while you hug him, or about how pleasant the soft, content sighs that leave you sound to his ears.

If he thinks about any of it, he'll get hard– and that'll easily be the most mortifying moment of his life, because you would definitely notice with the way your leg is snaked between his and resting between his thighs. It's moments like this when he misses the days of innocence– when cuddling with you like this didn't feel quite so intimate.

He makes a conscious effort to focus harder on the tv in front of you both, playing some sitcom he has long since stopped paying attention to. He guesses the jokes are landing if your occasional giggles are any sign, but if you asked his opinion on anything going on he wouldn't be able to answer. Changbin has never been the type of person who was easily able to divide his attention, but God, does he fucking try.

Because if you realize he's getting hard, and you feel it, there are very few scenarios he can imagine where you're okay with it. And if you decide to question him on it, he'd be done for– because there's no way he'd be able to outright deny his attraction to you. Playing it off would feel too much like lying, and this is not the kind of scenario he imagines when he thinks about the way he'll admit his feelings to you.

You've noticed since the beginning that his body has been tense; you've been cuddling since you were young, and you're more than familiar with how he feels when he's relaxed. It's almost amazing how someone so muscular can still feel so soft when their body is at rest– and right now you can't help but notice that he feels very far from soft. 

You tried to ignore it and focus on the show you're watching, and it worked for some time, but the longer he stays tense the more you can't help but wonder if you've been bothering him lately. It's become a growing pattern– you touch Changbin, in some ways small and menial like a passing tap to his arm as you slip past him in the kitchen, or large, in which you hug him tight and envelop him with your entire body.

Either way, the reaction is the same; he instantly tenses. You're not sure if he intends to do so, or if it's an unconscious reaction he doesn't even realize he's doing, but it hasn't gone unnoticed by you. The two of you have always been a match when it comes to being clingy and affectionate, but maybe that isn't the kind of attention he wants to get from you anymore. 

Are you being overbearing? Did you unintentionally do something wrong? Maybe he wants to distance himself from you but is just either too nice or too scared to say it out loud and hurt your feelings. 

When you tilt your head to look at him, his cheeks are pinker than they were just moments ago, with his gaze fixed solely on the tv. You're sure he can feel you looking at him, but he doesn't turn his head to meet your eyes. You want to believe he's just really engrossed in the show, but you can't help but doubt it. You know him, and you're certain that for whatever reason, he's avoiding your gaze. 

"Am I bothering you?" you ask abruptly, and perhaps a bit more vulnerable than you would've liked. Not that you can help it, really; you just really care about Changbin, and you can't stand not knowing if you've done something to upset him or make him want to separate himself from you. You have to know, because you can't stand it any longer. 

"What? No, I– what?" Changbin finally looks at you, furrowed brows peeking out between strands of his long, messy curls. You didn't expect him to be so surprised by your question; admittedly, it is sudden, but this has been building for weeks hasn't it? You thought he'd be relieved that you're bringing it up first so that he doesn't have to.

You've never been happier to be wrong, or to see such genuine confusion on his face. Thank God. "Sorry, I just.. You've been acting different lately, and I thought that maybe it was because I did something wrong," you explain, following it with a small, awkward laugh.

Really, you're relieved; at the same time however, you do feel a bit embarrassed and silly to have been questioning what's been happening with him now that he's so clearly taken aback. You jumped to conclusions and got a bit ahead of yourself, it’s true– but.. If that’s not it, then what is it?

Surely there’s a reason– his behavior wouldn’t have changed if everything is really the same as it's always been. If nothing's wrong, why does he tense up every time you try to act affectionate with him? Why does he hesitate to meet your gaze when he never had a problem doing so before? Why does it always feel like he's putting distance between you? 

Changbin swallows, you notice– a nervous response that you guess is from putting him on the spot. Because if it's not what you've been thinking, you need to be provided with another explanation– an explanation that only he can offer you. He needs to clear up this misunderstanding if he doesn't want you to wrongfully think you've done wrong by him, but what can he say that also omits the truth he isn't ready to admit? 

His cheeks grow pinker, and you can tell he's struggling to find words– something you'd typically never expect to see in your charismatic best friend. You've untangled yourself from him enough to lift yourself up, weight propped up by your elbow while you look directly in his eyes. He's slightly beneath you at this angle, eyes having to travel up to meet your own, and again he swallows. 

He's so fucked. There's nothing he can say right now other than "I really fucking like you and being this close to you all the time is making me crazy."

But he can't actually say that. Changbin wants his confession to come with a grand, romantic gesture. He wants to say the sweetest, more perfect words he can come up with. He wants to be a man of action, someone as cool as they are sincere, someone who can make you swoon with suave, but genuine effort. Admitting his feelings to you now, like this, would be the furthest thing from charming, or cool, or perfect. 

As if all of that wasn't enough, now he has to make a conscious effort to not let his eyes wander down to look at your chest– because he's been chubbing up since the moment you started cuddling, and if he catches a glimpse of your cleavage now, he's done for. It feels vaguely pathetic to be this affected by you when you don't even realize you're doing it to him. 

Changbin's eyes act against the purposeful efforts of his brain and travel to your chest, met overtly with the sight of your breasts pressed together. Fuck. He looks back up to your face quickly, hoping you haven't noticed where his eyes wandered. He wishes he could reach between your bodies and discreetly adjust his pants to hide his growing erection, but he can't, and God help him, you're going to notice any second now. 

And you're looking at him so sweetly and earnestly, patient and caring, totally unaware of what you're doing to him and what his actual struggle is. He wants to clear everything up, doesn't want you to feel like the fault of what he's going through lies with you, he wants to answer every question you have, he really does– but he's found himself in a vicious cycle. 

Trying not to think about the position you're both in, of how pretty you are looking down at him, or of your chest that he can't seem to ignore despite how badly he needs to focus on anything else just makes him dwell on it even more. The more he tries not to, the more space it takes up in his mind, until it's entirely clouded, preventing him from conjuring a thought worthy of being spoken to you. 

Fuck thinking of an excuse or explanation, he can't think of anything other than your tits being so close to his face. He wants nothing more than to kiss them, to feel your fingers running through his hair as he sticks his tongue out to lick your nipples, has thought about squeezing them between his palms so many times. 

So can he offer you a reasonable enough excuse that hides the truth of the matter? Absolutely fucking not– not when all he can think about is how you'd feel and taste. "Changbin?" your questioning voice snaps him out of it, looking up at you like a deer caught in headlights behind his thick rimmed glasses. 

He looks guilty, face entirely flushed red all the way to the tips of his ears. And you're convinced now that he was trying to spare your feelings, and was stuck on finding the right way to break it to you. He didn't know what to say, and was trying so desperately to think of something that wouldn't crush you.

He can see the hurt wash over you, and he opens his mouth, ready to blurt out anything in a futile attempt at damage control, but you're already speaking before he even gets the chance to try. "You don't have to spare my feelings, you can be honest, just tell me–" you say as you start to push yourself away from him, very clearly misunderstanding the situation that's been unfolding. 

Before he can even begin to figure out if he should be relieved or devastated by your incorrect assumptions hiding what he feels, the process of moving your leg from between his causes him to let out a gasp that takes you both by surprise. You feel it– his semi-hard erection brushes against your leg as you attempt to move it out from between his thighs. 

"Oh," is suddenly all you can manage to say. Is Changbin attracted to you..? Is that why for months he's slowly but surely become so different in your presence? When you look back to him, he's covered his face with his hands over his glasses, his pouty bottom lip quivering in what you can only assume to be mortification over his body betraying him. 

The question now is, is this simply a physical reaction to being close or something more than that? Would it happen to him no matter who was pressed against him, or is it you in particular that causes his body to react this way? You won't know until he tells you, but you hope more than anything he wants you as much as you've always wanted him.

The idea that he may view you romantically is not something you ever allowed yourself to consider a possibility, but oh, how you've wanted it. Changbin has always been perfect to you; a gentleman in all aspects, attentive, considerate, thoughtful, your very best friend. You always thought you'd be lucky if someone like him were to love you, and you always held your partners to the standard he showed you. 

You thought that even if you couldn't have Changbin, you could at least have someone like him; and while no one ever made you feel the way he does, disappointing you in one way or another, you still tried. Perhaps it was unfair, as no one can compare to Changbin, but if he wants you then you'll take him in a heartbeat, no questions asked. Even when it wasn't entirely conscious to you, your heart has always belonged to him. 

He flinches when you call his name again; your tone is soft, but he's still afraid to meet your gaze and discover what kind of expression is on your face. He thinks he'll die if he sees anything even remotely resembling disgust or anger. He cares about you so much, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if you lost your trust in him because of this. 

You reach for his hands, and despite his nerves threatening to eat him alive for perhaps the first time in his life, he lets you take his hands away from his face. The apprehension in his eyes is clear, though there's a flash of relief when he can see that you're not upset with him. "I'm sorry, really," he blurts out quickly, feeling like he should apologize even if you aren't going to chastise him for getting hard simply from being close to you. 

“Does this happen a lot when we..?” you ask, watching as his blush spreads down his neck while he hesitantly nods. You’ve never seen him so red and shy before– and honestly, you like it. You’ve always considered Changbin to be cute, but this is cute on an entirely different level; you hope this won’t be the only time you get to see him this way. But before that can happen, you have a more pressing question to ask him.

"Do you want me to help you?" is the next question to leave you, and fucking hell, does that send him reeling. He can’t believe this is really happening, that you’re even asking him so casually. And while it isn’t the way he pictured something happening between you after his many months of pining, he could never say no to you– he's been obsessively thinking about you all this time, how could he say anything but yes?

Still, he hesitates regardless; not because he's unsure about continuing, or because he doesn't want to, but because what if it means different things for the two of you? For Changbin, it'd be everything. You're the only person he's ever liked this much, he might even be in love with you, and he doesn't think he'd be able to recover from having a casual fling with you. He'd never be able to go back to before and pretend he doesn't feel as much for you as he does.

"If you say no, we can pretend this never happened," you assure him when you see the nervous hesitance in his eyes. It's not what you'd want to hear, but he deserves to be offered an out if he needs it; because as much as you want him, you don't want him to feel stuck and uncomfortable. And then you continue, hoping more than anything that he shares the sentiment of your next words, "But I think you should know, I really like you, Binnie. And I'll be really happy if you say yes." 

With your admission, all his doubts and fears are cleared in an instant. Really, that's all he needed to hear to be sure what he plans to say next is the right thing to say to you. It's not how he ever intended to ask you this question, but he’d never dream of passing up the opportunity presented to him– the opportunity to be yours, and for you to be his in turn. "If I say yes, will you be my girlfriend?"

He’s smiling, sweet and cute as he asks, and it makes you smile too– because this is much more like the Changbin you know and love. He giggles when you accept, and as the word "boyfriend" leaves you in reference to him, absolutely giddy to finally be yours. Maybe this is better than the way he always pictured it would happen; because this is more organically you, what is more natural to your dynamic and the care you have for each other.

Leaning down, you softly press your lips to his, and even just a gesture so small is enough to spread goosebumps over his skin. It's so soft, slow, every sensation lingering even as you pull away to take a breath before kissing him again. No kiss he's ever had before compares to how it feels to kiss you; he doesn't think he's ever felt as positively electric as he does right now.

Is it normal for every touch of your lips to make him tremble so much? And his heart is already beating so fast, thumping loudly against his chest with each additional kiss and tracing touch of your fingers over his body. Down his arms, over his chest, underneath his shirt and across his stomach– all of it adds to the sparks in his veins. 

His hands explore you too– eager, and a bit clumsy, but you find his enthusiasm infectious. He's so perfectly warm and soft, and you can't resist the urge to squeeze him in your hands– his soft tummy, his love handles, his defined pecs; you squeeze everywhere your hands can reach. Changbin lets out a soft, surprised squeak the first time, but he quickly grows used to it, and finds himself mimicking the way you touch him. 

He starts with the leg not tucked between his thighs, hand trailing up and down the length of it before he squeezes. Then he moves on to your hips before traveling to your backside, then your waist, and finally your breasts. Even just feeling them over your clothes excites him beyond words, eager and happy to be touching you like he's dreamed of so many times before.

He likes the pleased hums and sighs you let out almost more than he likes the act of squeezing you in his palms, each sound just as pretty and soft as you are. He shivers when he feels your tongue swipe across his bottom lip, and he eagerly parts his lips for you. Your tongue slipping inside his mouth and swirling around his own makes him practically vibrate with desire for more.

Changbin follows you when you start to pull away from the kiss, eyes remaining closed for several seconds before he finally opens them to look at you. His pretty lips, still wet and parted, turn into a pout when you've gone further than he can still reach. His pout vanishes, however, when you start to pull up your shirt, and it makes you giggle; he really is just so cute. 

You weren't wearing a bra beneath your shirt– you never do when you're relaxing before going to bed, even at Changbin's place. You always felt comfortable enough around him that you didn't feel like you had to sacrifice your comfort during your sleepovers, assured in the fact that he'd always be respectful towards you even if he happened to notice.

And while you're comfortable and confident, there's still a certain tinge of nervousness that bubbles up in the back of your mind that comes from being exposed to his eyes now. Tits are pretty– doesn't matter who they're on, or what shape they're in, they always look good; but it's almost funny how simply showing them to the person you like so much makes you nervous regardless of this fact.

You're not ashamed to say you've slept with a lot of people, and that a majority of said people have seen you completely bare– but there's none you've ever liked quite as much or in the same way that you like Changbin. It makes it more intimate somehow, so real, and you suppose that's the part that makes you nervous.

But oh, how his gaze fills your stomach with butterflies– because you don't think anyone's ever looked at you the way he is right now, with eyes sparkling in awe as he takes the sight of you in. He looks at you with pure wonder and adoration, in a way that is as sweet as it is full of lust and desire.

In his eyes, you may as well be one of the 7 wonders of the world– something worthy of reverence and worship. He'd do it if you'd let him– worship you until the sky itself falls and everything around the two of you crumbles. He'll show you in any way he can, with every kiss and every touch, that you always have been and always will be the only one for him.

"Can– Can I touch them? Please?" he asks, polite, sweet, and full of hope that you won't deny him. It's a little funny, considering how just moments ago he was touching you all over– but it's sweet too, how considerate he's trying to be now that you're bare before him despite how eager and worked up he is.

And really, you'd never dream of denying him anything– but you do have a request of your own to make too. "If you take your shirt off for me first," you tell him, fingers ghosting over his torso, "I want to touch you too, want to see every inch of you."

"Oh," he blinks, his cock that has been semi-hard for the better part of an hour stiffening more as it twitches in response to your words. "Yeah– yeah, of course, want you to touch me too," he finally breathes, wasting no time in lifting his back off the bed to pull his shirt up and over his head.

You giggle at the urgency in which he gets his shirt off, and he smiles back at you when he falls back against the bed. He knows he's eager and excitable, and he has no shame in showing it– he's wanted you way too much and for way too long to act like this is just a typical Saturday night for him.

Even if he makes a fool of himself, he'll be happy and it'll be worth it– because it's you he's doing it for, doing it with, and that's all he's ever needed. "You're so cute, Binnie," you tell him, and he smiles brighter, cutely scrunching his nose that way you love so much, and does whenever he's truly happy.

His hands reach for you first, cupping your breasts with an adorable pout of concentration and determination on his face. He's careful with his squeezes, well aware of how strong his grip can be and not wanting at all to hurt you. He rubs over your nipples with his thumbs, and then between his fingers, licking his lips as he watches them get hard enough to gently roll them.

He looks to you for approval, blinking up at you with hope for praise and affirmation that you like it, that he's doing it right. It makes you want to coo at him– but you resist, and simply reach your hand to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb as you instruct him to keep going. He all but melts into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm and closing his eyes for just a moment to relish in it before he continues.

Changbin sticks his tongue out next, watching you carefully as he brings it to one of your pebbled nipples. You meet him halfway so he doesn't have to strain his neck from lifting it off the pillow, leaning closer to his face as you move your hand to thread your fingers through his curls.

His eyes stay on you as he alternates between where he licks, one of his hands always playing with the nipple that his mouth isn't giving attention to. The moan you let out when he sucks one into his mouth makes his cock throb, and truly, he's never felt as blessed as he does right now, with one of his many fantasies finally becoming a reality.

Still, he's thirsty for more– he wants to feel you everywhere, to hear your pretty voice sing him praises, to become so absorbed in each other's pleasure that everything else in the world fall away. He wants to envelop you with his body, he wants your touch to consume him, he wants you to both be equally messy and dirty and engrossed in bliss.

"Touch me now, please, anywhere, want you to," he pleads after releasing your nipple from his mouth with a small pop. His face is flushed the prettiest shade of pink, dark eyes soft and pleading behind his glasses, lips wet and hair a mess– you don't think you've ever seen anything more perfect and alluring than this.

It makes you want to dote on him, and you'll do just that– especially if it's something he wants as badly as you. "Anything for you," you oblige, giving him a quick, sweet peck to the top of his head before your hands are once again traveling over his body. You scoot down just enough to be able to reach his neck, pressing kisses beneath his ear before trailing them down.

Changbin intended to keep playing with your chest as you touched him, but he quickly loses focus, sucking in a breath and eyes fluttering closed as your tongue presses against his sweet spot. It's almost overwhelming for him– your hands squeezing the thick muscle of his arms and pecs while you tongue dotes on him, body squirming when your teeth lightly graze over the sensitive skin near his pulse point.

Similar to when you first squeezed him in your hands earlier, another squeak of surprise escapes him when you brush your thumbs over his exposed nipples– you guess no one's ever done that to him before. You hesitate a moment before repeating the action, wanting first to make sure it's something he's open to experiencing again. He's biting his lip and looking at you not with apprehension like you half expected to see, but curiosity and excitement.

So you do it again, and he gasps, back arching off the bed as his teeth sink further into his bottom lip. Fuck, he never thought he'd be so sensitive there– and he whines from deep in his throat when you comment on it. "You're so sensitive, Bin," you whisper in near awe, and he's half tempted to cover his mouth with his hand to suppress the moan you threaten to bring out of him with your soft fingers.

His cock is the hardest he thinks it's possibly ever been. You can feel it prodding against your thigh, and poor Changbin, he's so worked up and eager for stimulation that he can't help but grind it against you as you continue to rub his nipples between your fingers. In a different scenario, it'd be the bed or his own hand he'd be helplessly rutting against– but your thigh is all he has access to.

It makes him feel positively dirty, naughty, but he can't stop– even when the friction from the fabric of his clothes overwhelms him, his hips don't stop moving against you. You look down between your bodies, watch the wet patch on his pants grow as he continues to rut against your thigh.

You want to take one of his nipples into your mouth, but you don't want him to lose the friction against you– so you bend carefully, conscious of keeping your leg pressed against him between his thighs as you wrap your lips around the nipple easiest for you to reach. He whimpers– a high pitched sound you never expected to hear from him as you swirl your tongue around his hardened nipple.

"Fuck, oh fuck, oh my god–" Changbin whines, bringing up his hands to once again cover his heated face. It's so embarrassing– how good it feels, how loud he's being, how he just can't seem to stop himself from seeking the delicious friction your thigh provides him. Overwhelming too, how close he is to cumming already, his body taut and high strung.

His hips begin to stutter, sweat steadily building on his brow, his stomach clenching as he tries his best to hold back the inevitable. "Are you close, Binnie? Gonna cum just like this?" you release his nipple from your mouth to ask him sweetly. Against your expectations, he quickly shakes his head– as if fighting against himself before he lowers his hands and looks at you with glassy eyes.

"Don't– don't want to," he tells you after another obscene whine, "wanna fuck you first, don't wanna cum until I fuck you." The way he looks at you as he says it makes your heart jolt and stomach twist. Messy hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, pouty bottom lip swollen and red, eyes pleading and desperate.

God, he's fucking cute– positively delectable. You'll have to save eating him for next time, though; right now, you just want to give him everything he asks for. "You want to fuck me?" you ask him, reaching your hand down to dip under the waistband of his pants and underwear. It's sticky and wet, pre-cum smeared all over the inside of the fabric.

He keens, nodding eagerly as he squirms beneath the touch of your soft, warm hand. It's such a contrast from the prior sensation, but just as equally overwhelming. You stroke him slowly; just enough to keep him worked up, but not enough to make him cum. His eyes are fluttering closed, hands twisting the sheets beneath him, hips jolting up to meet your strokes.

"You're so thick, Binnie," you tell him, and he throbs from the compliment, whining almost helplessly. It's true too– you're not just saying it to make him feel good. It's not the longest you've ever held, but it's definitely the thickest– you can't even wrap your hand entirely around it. "Think you can help me get ready to take it?" you ask, needing to suppress the urge to giggle when he enthusiastically nods.

"Anything! I'll do anything for you, anything you need," he babbles, and you thank him with a sweet kiss that he happily returns. He whines when you stop touching him and pry yourself away, hips chasing your touch even though he's the one who wanted you to stop– his body just can't help it.

He watches breathlessly as you stand from the bed, sliding your thumbs into the waistband of your pajamas and slowly pulling them down along with your panties. He decides to follow your lead, scrambling to lift himself from the bed and pull the rest of his clothes off in one quick motion.

Both bare, you take a moment to stare at one another. You get a better view of Changbin's drooling cock, while he finally gets a glimpse at your pussy– and fuck, is it the prettiest thing he's ever seen. How did he get so fucking lucky?

You come back to the bed, and instead of letting you crawl back on top of him, Changbin gently guides you to the side of him and onto your back. You spread your legs for him once you're comfortable, and he props himself up on his elbow, looking down at your body, so gorgeous and perfect.

He isn't well practiced, so he mimics the actions taken in one of his favorite, more intimate porn videos. He starts with kissing you, slow but messy, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. His hand travels down the length of your torso, and he can't help but gasp and break away from the kiss when he reaches your core, and your arousal coats his fingers.

"Oh my god, do you– do you always get this wet?" he asks, almost mesmerized by how effortlessly his fingers glide between your folds. "Only for you," you answer; you don't know if he believes it, but it's true. The only other times you've ever gotten this soaked were in the privacy of your bedroom, when you touched yourself with Changbin's image at the forefront of your imagination.

He continues to rub his fingers up and down between your folds until his fingers are completely coated, and only then does he finally ask, "Can I.. is- is it okay to put my fingers inside?" He blushes when you smile at him and nod, spreading your legs further apart while telling him exactly what he wants to hear. "Yeah, please, I want you to."

He presses the tips of his fingers to your hole before he slowly pushes one inside, watching in breathlessly awe as it disappears inside your warm, wet heat. You're so slick that it slides in and out easily, and soon enough you're instructing him to add another, and then one more, to which he easily obliges.

He can't decide where he wants to look more; between your legs, where his fingers thrust steadily in and out of you, or to your face, beautifully contorted in pleasure– so he ends up alternating between both. "Is this– is it good for you?" he asks the next time he looks at your face, desperate to perform well for you.

If there's anything he can do better, anything he needs to do differently, he needs to know– he'll follow any instruction you give him in a heartbeat. "Your fingers– when they're all the way inside, can you curl them for me, please?" you ask, and he's immediately doing exactly as you tell him, curling his fingers right against your sweet spot.

"Like this?" he asks, sliding his fingers out and quickly pushing them back inside, curling them to hit your spot, and then pulling them back out to repeat the motion. You let out whines and breathless moans, voice quickly growing shakier and shakier as you try to keep talking him through it.

"Y-Yeah, just like that, keep– keep going just like that," you tell him, voice unsteady between your whimpers and moans, but it's easily the prettiest sounds Changbin's ever heard– he just knows he'll become addicted to them.

He's addicted to everything about you, really– all of it is so captivating. The sounds you cry out, as well as the ones coming from between your legs as his fingers thrust in and out of you. He's mesmerized by how your thighs tremble and twitch when he picks up his pace, by the rapid rise and fall of your chest, by the way your eyes roll back as he drives you closer to sweet release.

"Bin, Binnie– 'm so close, just need– need a little more," you tell him between quick, shaky breaths. "Tell me," Changbin requests, slowing down the motion of his fingers just enough for you to be able to speak with more ease, "tell me what you need."

"Here, touch me here," you instruct, reaching your hand down to point him to your puffy, neglected clit. "With your thumb," you add after you show him, and he nods, pressing his thumb to your clit as he resumes the previous, quick motion of his fingers inside you.

He can feel you clench tighter around his fingers, while the sounds that escape you soon pick up in volume. Your thighs squeeze together and limit the motion of his hand, so he sticks to simply curling his fingers while rubbing your clit with his thumb. It only takes a few more strokes of his thumb to have your back arching off the bed, his name coming out in a choked sob.

Changbin doesn't slip his fingers out of you right away, instead keeping them inside until your breathing starts to steady and your thighs relax. "Was it.. did I do okay?" he asks after you've caught your breath, and God, the way you smile at him– he's sure he's never seen anything more radiant.

"You were perfect," you answer, leaning up to wrap your arms around him and pull him into a kiss. "So perfect, felt so good," you continue between pressing kisses to his lips, "want you now." A shiver is sent straight down his spine; is this finally, really going to happen after so many nights spent hoping for it? “Do you have protection?” you ask after pulling away, and he pouts as he considers it.

He did have some, but.. how long has it been since the last time he had sex? He’s not confident he even remembers where he put them last; it hasn’t really been something pressing on his mind considering he discovered casual flings weren’t really his thing, and he thought the only person he wanted to have sex with, you, was unavailable.

“Uh, I think so! ..maybe?” he mumbles as he crawls over to his nightstand and starts haphazardly shoving things aside while searching through it. You giggle as you sit up and crawl over yourself, deciding to help him look for one in his messy drawer. “Ah, there’s one!” you point to where you see the corner of a packet sticking out from under the book you’re pretty sure he’s been reading on and off for like, 6 months now. 

“Thank God,” you hear him mutter under his breath as he lifts the book up to grab it, and you giggle again; you don’t think there’ll ever be a time you don’t find him endlessly adorable. It wouldn't have been a big deal if he didn’t have one, of course, as you usually carried around spares in your bag, but there was something really endearing about his urgency to find one.

He’s pretty sure that the condoms expiration date hasn’t passed, but he still checks first regardless– better to be safe than sorry, and all. “All good?” you ask as you watch him check it over, and smile when he crawls back to you and plants a giddy kiss to your lips.

“Yep! All good,” he smiles, settling himself between your legs after you rest back against the bed. He’s honestly pretty nervous, but his joy to be with someone he loves so much does wonders for distracting his brain from the fear of not performing to some imaginary standard of perfection in bed.

Changbin stops when it’s time to open the condom, staring at it for a moment as if considering what to do. You’re about to ask him if he needs help, but he ends up speaking again before you can. “Uh, I know tearing it open with my teeth is sexy or whatever, but I think I’d fuck it up so I’m not gonna do that,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. Your silly boy. 

“Don’t worry, you’re already plenty sexy without doing stuff like that,” you tell him. “Am I?” he asks, another cute smile spreading on his lips when you nod, and confirm that he’s very sexy. Cute too, you tell him, easily the cutest person in the whole world. And his eyes crinkle and nose scrunches in the way you love again as he giggles. 

What amazing duality your boyfriend has; so strong and intimidating in physique, but with the softest, sweetest personality you’ve ever known anyone to have. He’s so perfect. 

He rips open the packet with his hands, and the condom slips from his fingers when he first pulls it out, but he thankfully manages to catch it before it falls on you, or the bed. "My bad," he says with a shy, slightly awkward laugh; maybe he's more nervous than he initially thought.

He's suddenly extremely conscious of how fast his heart is beating, and of the tremble in his hands. "Want me to help?" you ask, smiling at him sweetly when he timidly nods. "Ah, yeah, if you don't mind," he mutters, and you quickly sit back up, placing your hands over his.

"Keep this one here," you instruct as you bring his hand to the base of his cock to hold in place and keep still. "And then we're gonna roll it down, like this," you guide the hand holding the condom to the tip of his cock, helping him spread it smoothly down his length with your fingers atop his.

If it were anyone else, he might feel embarrassed or a little ashamed over needing help, and for needing to be guided like this with something he feels most guys his age already have perfected. But with you, it just feels sweet and intimate; he can tell there's no judgment, and you're not going to make fun of him for not quite knowing how best to do things.

He's safe with you. And he's glad that out of all the billions of people in the world that he could've met, befriended, and then fallen in love with, that it was you.

You lay back against the bed after Changbin thanks you for your help with a kiss, but you notice he still looks nervous, so you hold up your hand to offer it to him. He smiles as he takes it in his, and you give him a reassuring squeeze after he intertwines his fingers with yours. He uses his other hand to align himself with your hole, and takes a breath before starting to finally push himself inside.

You both squeeze each other’s hand; Changbin because fuck, it already feels so good even with just the tip inside, and you because even with 3 of his fingers prepping you for his cock, it’s still a stretch. He’s pushing inside slowly, and it’s thankfully to both your benefit– because he’d definitely cum if he didn’t, and you’re sure there’d be a sting if he pushed it all in at once.

He whimpers as he bottoms out, his hand still squeezing yours as he tries desperately to ground himself. “God, you feel so good, can’t– can’t believe how tight you are, oh my god,” he whines, absolutely sure that if it wasn’t for the condom he would’ve cum from the very moment he felt your walls squeezing around him.

“You’re big,” you reply breathlessly, reaching your free hand up to the back of his neck to pull him down, closer to you, “so fucking big, feel so full.” “Fuck, don’t say that, I’ll cum–” he groans, and you can feel his cock twitch and throb, as if it to confirm to you he means it. A kiss is the only apology you offer now that his lips are in reach of yours, and he lets go of your hand to prop himself up on his elbows.

He rests his forehead against yours when he pulls away, and slowly, he starts to pull out. “Gonna– gonna fuck you now,” he breathes, pulling out almost completely before slowly pushing back inside, “gonna, oh– fuck, gonna make you feel good too, promise.” You bite your lip, muffling a whine as he continues to build his slow, but steady pace. You don’t think you’ve ever been fucked slowly by anyone, but fuck, it feels good.

You hold his face in your hands, kissing him deep and messy, with your tongue shoved as far into his mouth as it’ll go. You’re both panting by the time one of you pulls away, and oh, when he looks at you– his heart feels like it could stop right then and there. You’re so beautiful, he’s so in love with you, and the way you look at him so full of tenderness and adoration makes his head spin. 

He buries his head into your neck as he starts to fuck you faster, genuinely afraid that he’ll cry if he looks in your eyes any longer. You wrap your arms around him, clinging to his body as you start to roll your hips to meet his thrusts and help him to hit your spot. He moans your name, one of his hands snaking underneath your body to pull you even closer.

You’re pressed to him, chest to chest, bodies hot and sweaty. His face feels unbearably hot, and when he lifts his face from your neck, the lenses of his glasses have almost completely fogged over. “Bin, oh my goodness,” you giggle as you reach up to take his glasses off for him, and he giggles too, though it’s quickly cut off by another moan. 

It’s easy to tell that he’s getting close, and it really comes as no surprise– he’s been so hard for so long now, and he purposely staved off his orgasm just for this moment. His thrusts become more desperate, the throbbing of his cock more constant as he squeezes and holds you tighter. His pace isn’t perfect and his thrusts aren’t precise enough, he knows, but he hopes he’s still doing well enough to at least uphold his promise to make you feel just as good as he does. 

He can feel you trying to snake your dominant hand between your bodies, and he pulls away from you enough to make it easier for you once he realizes what you’re trying to do. He tries to watch, but the very moment your fingers start to rub your clit, you clench around him and it makes his eyes roll back as he moans. 

Changbin whimpers when you moan his name, hips stuttering and thrusts becoming erratic. “C-Close, oh my god, ‘m so close,” he whines, begrudgingly letting you go so he can dig his fingers into the mattress instead so he doesn’t accidentally hurt you. His knuckles quickly turn white, and though it makes him emotional to do, he looks you in the eye.

It’s now that it really sets in just how much Changbin cares about you. There’s no one else he’d ever do this with, no one in the world he wants more than he wants you, and you can see it in the way he looks down at you. His furrowed brows and watery eyes, his bottom lip that trembles, the desperate, almost pathetic cries of your name. He lets you see his most vulnerable self, because he trusts you and loves you. 

You reach to his face, cupping his face in your hand to guide him down to you. He thinks you’re going to kiss him, and you are close enough to, as he's able to feel your breath against his lips. But you don’t– instead you whisper words that make his world tilt on its axis, a loud, desperate moan escaping from deep in his chest as he cums.

"I love you.”

He fills the condom with long, thick and sticky spurts, his entire body trembling. In turn, it only takes a few more strokes of your fingers to cum again, your eyes rolling back as the white hot pleasure licks over every inch of your skin. Changbin collapses first, careful to fall in a way that won’t completely smother you beneath him. 

He pulls out slowly after he catches his breath, and then carefully removes the condom from his softening length. He leans over your body to toss it in the trash bin near his bed before he falls back down next to you, and wraps an arm around you to pull you closer. You end up in the same cuddling position you were in at the start of the night, with Changbin half on his back, and you with an arm thrown over his body and leg tucked between his.

You’re naked this time, there’s an “Are you still there?” pop up on the tv that’s since gone ignored, and you told Changbin you love him. So it’s better, he thinks; everything about where you are now is better. “I love you too,” he finally says, and you giggle, scooching up so you can kiss him. “Took you long enough to say it back,” you say, and he giggles too, happy beyond words to finally have everything he’s ever wished for.

network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 9)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Age-Gap, Infidelity, Smut

Words: 2,678

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8

THIS PART IS DIALOGUE HEAVY AND PART EIGHT WILL BE SIMILAR, BOTH PARTS ARE NECESSARY THOUGH TO EXPAND THE STORY.

Two weeks later...

Just as General Groves had anticipated, the following week, you made your way to Robert’s final lecture at Berkley which was held in front of an audience of about fifty students.

The lecture itself was not relevant to your thesis but you knew that you had to see him, in an aim to clear things up.

You managed to get a letter to him through Professor Lawrance in the past few days, hidden within your thesis papers and, even though Lawrance told you as well that Robert was no longer your supervisor, you insisted for Robert to read it, seeing that her was the expert in this field.

After you begged, of course, Lawrance agreed to provide the paper to his colleague and, whilst you hoped that Robert would respond to your letter, he did not. At least not until now which is when you sat inside the lecture hall and he handed out some papers to everyone.

“I suggest that you read page two carefully Miss Y/LN” he told you quietly when, finally, he approached you amongst the other students and, of course, you knew what he meant by that and skipped right ahead to the page he mentioned.

“Thank you doctor” you told him as he moved on and handed out the remaining papers to the other students while, at the back of the hall, you could see two men watching the lecture and Robert’s interactions with you. They were spies for sure and you knew that, when hopefully getting to see him, you had to do so without being seen yourself.

Robert though played them well. He was nothing but professional towards you and the note he had hidden on page two was not noticeable to anyone but you.

“Meet me at Lawrance’s office. 3 o’clock. We need to talk” it said and, of course, you already knew what this was going to be about. He was going to tell you exactly what General Groves had already told you, namely that he could and would not see you again after today.

He would also tell you that your security clearance had been denied and that, at least for now, you had to forget about him.

Whether you could do that or not, however, was something that you had already thought about for the past week or so, ever since Lesley Groves’ conversation with you and you came to the conclusion that you could not.

Not after the letters he had sent you, telling you how much he desired you and enjoyed your company, and not after the passionate night you shared.

Of course, love was not something you believed in even though Robert referred to it on two occasions now and love was not yet what you felt for him. But what you felt was something more than just some intellectual and physical attraction. It was desire in its purest and most primal form which had developed into an addiction of some sort and this addiction needed to be fuelled in order for you to function mentally and physically. You thus decided that you needed Robert in your life and this was going to be a challenge.  

You were crazy for him and, clearly, he was crazy for you as well, going by what he had written to you and it were those letters which went through your mind just as Robert made his way to the lectern and began his lecture on naturally occurring atoms.  

“Concentrate Y/N!” you then said to yourself as Robert had started reading for the lesson and just as he spoke so passionately about physics, you took your pencil and slowly ran it down your neck and then to your collarbone, subtly squirming like you enjoyed the feel, though your face was serious. There was something extremely sexy and desirable about this man talking about atoms and your mind again wandered to the night you shared.

You could feel his eyes on you, glancing at you, as he went through some chemical reactions and him talking like this sent goosebumps all over your skin. You enjoyed the feeling and brought the pencil back up, now running across the seam of your lips in purposeful absentmindedness until he lost his train of thought and paused before picking up on his speech again.

This is when you decided to tune it down. You did not want Robert to be thrown off guard and knew that, after class, you would finally be able to catch a moment with him after not having seen him for almost four weeks.

***

At 3 o’clock and after shaking off the two men, who had been following you, by sneaking out of the lavatory window, you made your way too Dr Lawrance’s office which, unsurprisingly, was unlocked that day.

Thus, you made your way inside without knocking which happened to startle Robert who had already been waiting for you.

“Jesus” he cursed, afraid that it was one of General Groves’ personnel who had followed him or even you to Lawrance’s office. He was clearly paranoid and concerned about meeting you there, but he knew that he had to see you regardless.

“Has someone followed you here?” he asked nonetheless and you shook your head while, finally, approaching him and, in a haste, pressing your lips onto his.

“I missed you” you moaned against his lips while Robert kissed you passionately, only ever allowing you to pull away in order to breathe, which is something that continued for at least five minutes until Robert took a step back.

“We need to talk” Robert then said after your lips drifted apart and you slowly looked up at him with wide open eyes and a parted mouth before, wordlessly, reaching beneath your skirt and taking off your panties.

“We do, but that has to wait!” you determined, causing Robert to gasp with suprise and shake his head.

“We can’t Y/N…” Robert began to say but, as soon as your lust filled eyes met his, his grip on your waist tightened and he stopped talking.

“I suppose we can…” Robert then corrected himself, stammering out the words and you could feel his gaze boring into you and, just as you felt as though your lust for this man couldn’t have been any greater, he pressed his lips onto yours again for another passionate kiss.

As you were kissing, you slid your hands up his thighs and reached for the zipper of his pants. You pulled it down, undid the button and belt and then his briefs-bound cock pushed out of the opening.

“On the desk” Robert simply groaned as, eventually, you reached into his briefs and grabbed him, pulling his erection free. The gurgling noise he made at that meant that he was absolutely focused on what you were doing to him, so you let yourself lift your eyes and take in his flushed face, staring at your hand like it was God's salvation for his mortal soul.

“Not yet” you teased before licking your lips and descending on him, causing Robert to swear.

“Fuck” he cursed as, without warning, you engulfed him completely.

The feel of his length in your mouth and the weight of it was almost as good as the punched-out moan he made as you worked your tongue up and down his shaft for a moment before taking him in all the way again until he bottomed out.

Then you pulled back and took him in again, building up to a brutal pace.

Robert was grunting with every thrust into your mouth. He could not hold back as you sucked and swirled your tongue around the head, making sure he would never forget this moment with you, especially if this was going to be the last time for you both.

“Stop. No more” Robert eventually groaned before pulling slightly against your hair and, just as he did, you removed your lips from his pulsing hard shaft and stood up.

“I need to taste you and I need to be inside of you. It has been weeks” he then told you while pulling you over towards the large cedar study desk which, clearly, belonged to Dr Lawrance.

“Then have me Robert” you told him as he stared at your body intently. “Fuck me like you own me” you then demanded and Robert took a handful of your hair and pulled your head back playfully so that you would stare up at him. Your eyes went wide for a moment as you let out a little gasp before returning to the lidded hungry stare you had before.

Robert then leaned forward and kissed you hard on the mouth and your mouth tasted sweet and your moans against his mouth were whorish and wanton. He drank from your mouth and all thoughts of his marriage and the project slipped far into the recess of his will as he lifted you up on to the desk.

He then kissed down further, along your long neck and just above the v-line of your blouse before he kneeled in front of you and you wrapped your fingers in his hair.

As he was caressing your clothed body, you popped open some of the buttons on your blouse, thus allowing Robert to push it down and thereby exposing your breasts. He cupped the right one with his hand, gently twisting the nipple between thumb and forefinger. It instantly grew hard to his touch.

Robert then spent a moment or two with his mouth on each breast. Tasting every inch of your flesh, before he slipped lower and the heady aroma of your open sex filled his nostrils so that he was possessed by a strong desire to taste you.

As he lowered himself further, he took hold of your legs behind each knee and spread them apart as he pushed your legs up and your skirt back so that it was curled up against your stomach. Robert then kissed your left thigh and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flush, mouth parted, eyes unfocused but intent.

"You must be quiet" he managed say and you faintly nodded before he lowered his mouth onto your sex. You tried your best to muffle your squeal, but as his tongue worked its way into you, more moans and cries escaped your lips.

You tasted as sweet as usual, and he devoured you. He worked his tongue as deep into you as he could before wiggling it back and forth up over the length of your slit, and then sucking gently on your engorged clit.

You bucked and squirmed in response to his ministrations, but Robert held you down as his mouth locked onto you. Your fingers wrapped into his hair and you grinded yourself against his tongue as best you could.

You began a long slow whine that slowly built in intensity, punctuated by quick movements of your hips as you pressed your mound against his mouth. It almost sounded as though you were crying, and for a moment his concentration broke, and he was tempted to stop, but your grip on the back of his head told him otherwise.

“Don’t you dare stop!” you moaned just before Robert flicked his tongue quickly over your clit and your body began to shudder. Your whine became a steady cry, followed by convulsions, and finally a great big gasp, as your body went slack.

"Oh god” you then panted before pushing his head away, unable to take anymore. Your hair was mussed and your makeup had smeared a bit.

“Yes, my love?” Robert teased before standing straight and, of course, you rolled your eyes at his joke just like you usually would.

“You are so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” you teased as Robert finally brought you to your feet.

“Yes” he answered with a grin before kissing you again to let you taste yourself on his lips.

“Now turn around and lean against my desk” Robert then demanded before he spun your small frame around and bent you over his colleague’s desk.

“That’s Dr Lawrance’s desk, not yours” you pointed out before Robert stood himself behind you. You were limp and behaving more like a rag doll than an active participant, but after eating you to orgasm, Robert knew that he had to have you. He had been aching for you for weeks.

“I suppose it is Lawrance’s desk, but I am sure he would not mind us using it” Robert then said which made you giggle.  

“Very well then professor, I am all yours” you teased as Robert flipped your skirt onto your back and reached down between your legs, feeling that you were still slick and ready for him.

“You are indeed” Robert groaned before he lined himself up with your entrance without pushing into you just yet.

“Don’t tease” you demanded as you lowered your head to the desk and pushed back a little against his teasing cock.

“Please Robert” you then begged and, with that, he finally pressed into you slowly.

“I missed this a lot’ Robert groaned again as, finally, he took hold of your hips and pressed harder, to which you whimpered and moaned in pleasure.

“So did I” you gasped as he filled you.

"You are so very tight” he then told you as your channel gripped his length like a firm velvet fist. He could feel every inch inside you and, slowly, he began to rock his hips, small movements at first, then bigger ones, until he was fucking you in earnest.

You mewled as his member opened you and made your channel adjust to his size. He held your hips and pressed hard against you as you grunted with each thrust while, eventually, his cock was swelling.

"Oh god" you repeated as he fucked you in a steady rhythm until he briefly pulled out of you and turned you around.

“I missed having you inside me” you told Robert as you sat up on Lawrance’s desk again and spread your legs wide.

“I need you Y/N. I need you so fucking much” Robert said as he stepped in between your legs and re-entered you while you propped yourself up on your elbows and wrapped your long legs around his hips.

"I need you too, Robert. God, fuck me, make me yours” you moaned incoherently while your eyes were desperate and intently locked onto his. He leaned forward and kissed you in response, pressing his tongue into your mouth while you moaned against his lips, over and over again.

His own orgasm was building, but he did not want to stop just yet. Thus, his thrusts became more insistent and, with that, he drew you closer and closer towards climax as well.

“I am close” you said as if you were reading his mind while you leaned back and looked at Robert through lidded eyes.

“So am I” Robert told you as he felt your legs lock tighter around him and, just as you decided to hold on to for dear life, he pressed himself into you hard.

“Oh god, yes! That’s it” you almost screamed as, all so suddenly, you climaxed again. Your orgasm hit you like freight train and just as your walls began to convulse around his shaft, he exploded deep within you, filling you with his seed. He was thrusting hard with each spurt, and you wrapped your arms around him as it was his turn for his body to shake.

His orgasm was intense and, within seconds, his cum seeped from your channel and down his shaft, eliciting a final groan from Robert when he took a glimpse at where you were still connected.

“We really do need to talk” Robert then eventually said as he pulled out of you and felt the tension loosen inside of him as he momentarily closed his eyes and relaxed.

“Yes we do and now I can. I just needed to get this out of my system first before I could put together some logically thoughts” you said before reaching for Robert’s handkerchief and using it to clean yourself up.

“Do you mind if I keep that?” you then asked, causing Robert to chuckle.

“Not at all” he then said, pulling up his briefs and pants, before he leaned over and kissed your forehead. “Your security clearance…” he then began to say but you interrupted him.

“I know, General Groves came to interview me” you told Robert while adjusting your skirt. “He told me that you were instructed not see me again, but here you are, engaging in some intimate relations with me” you chuckled, still out of breath.

“General Groves should use his words more wisely as he did not say that I cannot see you again. He simply said that I must not engage or liaise with communists and, since you are not a communist, I do not see an issue with seeking you discreetly” Robert then pointed out while caressing your face.

“Discreetly, huh?” you chuckled before asking Robert what he thought was happening next.

“What do you mean?” he asked gently while looking into your eyes.

“With us, Robert. Where do we go from here” you wanted to know.

“Well, I will continue to try my luck and convince Groves to get you clearance for the project and, in the meantime, I will come here and visit you whenever I can” he explained.

“Robert, the General has already read your two letters to me. So, how do you expect to make contact without them noticing?” you asked, seeing that, no doubt, Robert was being watched.

“I will find a way my love. I promise” he promised you while cupping your face with both of his hands.

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to end it?” you argued, but Robert shook his head.

“I can’t do that” he told you.

“Why?” you queried, seeing that seeing you would be risky.

“Because I need you in my life Y/N” he then determined and a surprisingly warm and fluttering feeling crept up inside of you. It was a feeling that was unfamiliar to you and you could not describe it.

[mrghostrat]

"He needed an internet connection so he could download an app to draw with, but the whole point of setting the thing up in London was because he knew Crowley understood all of this a whole lot better than he did."

Okayyyyy I just got violent flashbacks to the s2 finale this is evil 😭😭

But in all seriousness, I LOVED the new bnf au chapter, I mean the kiss??? I audibly gasped, it was soooo good

I was wondering if the witch and the witchfinder are a canon couple in the nice and accurate prophecies? Or are they just a very popular fanon ship? Or is it like good omens, where people saw the romantic subtext in the book and where it was made explicitly canon in the show?

I just think all options would be really interesting, given that Crowley and Aziraphale are both middle-aged queer people and the book came out thirty years ago. So they either would have had some representation back then, or they recognised themselves in the story and even though it wasn't canon, maybe those ideas would later explicitly be confirmed by Agnes Nutter nonetheless? Since all these options have really interesting implications for the way they both interacted with the source material, I'm really curious what your thoughts on the matter are.

Thank you so much for all the beautiful things you create for the fandom, both your fics and your art give me life and I'm so grateful for them ❤

omg you have no idea how excited i am about this question 😭 as i've written BNF, i've been quietly fleshing out more about their fictional fandom, and accidentally gotten reeeeally invested and am dying to talk about it 😭😭

i'm actually tempted to make some fanart of the witch & the witchfinder, using michael and david as facecasts to go full meta thphptftf. in b4 i write it as a fuckin book series for real

buttttt i'll put all my N&A thoughts under a cut so i dont ramble too long on your dashes 💛

The Nice and Accurate Prophecy: Agnes Nutter's book series (turned play, turned film, turned tv series); the fandom in my fic Big Name Feelings

the idea of using Agnes Nutter's "Nice and Accurate" book for the in-fic fandom was taken from @tawnyontumblr's fic New Messages (i just thought that would be a fun fanon consistency to follow), but all the details about the story and characters are me.

N&A takes inspiration from Good Omens (as a story, and as a fandom) but isn't intended to be a direct copy of it. the original paperback series is a few books long, and each adaptation of the books are considered good, accurate, canonical content. the tv show (a HBO series) is the most recent, highest quality, and most popular. The Witcher style, high fantasy quality.

agnes is loudly supportive of the lgbt community just like neil/david/michael are. but i imagine that for the series to be so "marketable" over the last 30 years, there isn't an explicit queer relationship between the witch & finder. there are canon queer side characters but the witch & finder are a little more nuanced.

the witch and the witchfinder aid each other through time, working together to defeat the evils in the story (like Aziraphale and Crowley from GO). there's tension between them, but boundless love, and plenty of flirtation, despite the running "we shouldn't, we're meant to be enemies" theme. they would canonically get together at some point in the story, probably towards the end after they've spent some time dancing around each other.

the thing that makes this vague is: the witch reincarnates through the story, almost doctor who style. they're a trans icon, much like how the GO fandom looks at Crowley and all his gender ambiguity.

when they finally tryst with the witchfinder, they're female. it's by pure happenstance that they're female presenting at that stage of the story, but still widely critiqued over the years. the thing that canonises the mlm relationship is that the witch is said to carry their consciousness through each reincarnation— they're not a new person like The Doctor is when he regenerates.

the start of the book series spends more time on "Crowley and Aziraphale's favourite male reincarnation", while the movie and tv show only briefly montages through some of the witch's faces. the mlm side of the fandom most definitely lost their minds over the brief few minutes of screentime that they got of the male witch, and has absolutely gifsetted it to death.

i've done it like this because so much of (every) fandom has always been seeking out representation and filling gaps where the original content lacks. there's something to be said about the solidarity of queer fans creating more queer content for themselves. except, in the case of N&A, they're getting to work from a source material that is genuinely queer supportive, unlike fandoms like SPN and BBC Sherlock that are fighting against the tide of queerbaiting and buried gays.

it also gives aziraphale and crowley a chance to band together in the next chapter when they talk to a dickhead at the party:

i haven't exactly decided what happens with the witchfinder, like if the story takes place over hundreds of years and he keeps reincarnating as the same lookin dude (like how jack whitehall plays both Thou Shall Not Commit Adultery and Newton Pulsifer) or if it's set over one lifetime and the witch just gets killed and regenerates a lot. i do like the idea of there being some "through the ages" shenanigans, and a canonical "modern day" setting like GO has.

but i gotta be careful bc i genuinely can't stop thinking about this fake story that's barely mentioned in my fan fic or i'll end up writing the damn thing myself

[mysticalsoot]

you changed, it's good

A/N; soooo ive kinda been in a writing slump so take this fic thats been building dust in my docs- also tysm for 300!! hopefully ill come up w smth for it lol- I have no clue how to process that information omf

summary; months after wilbur's revival and his reunion with you and the daughter you share (that he didn't know about), you let out pent emotions and have a heartfelt talk with wilbur

tw// swearing, not lore accurate, im a wilbur apologist shush, children, suicidal mentions maybe? lmk if i missed anything

words; 1.8k

pairings; c!wilbur x gn!reader (they're parents), revivedbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none!

masterlist

—★—

The time since Wilbur’s death and revival may not have been that long, but for you, it felt like ages--you had a child now, his, yes but you’ve begun another life. A life with a little girl, a life without him. But now, he was here and he was trying. You appreciated it but god did you fear it too. The memories taunted you, the hurt and the aching that still lingered, haunted you. He haunted you.

Your head is rested upon Wilbur's chest, and the thumping of his heart echoes in your mind. His left arm wraps around your shoulder and your own arms around his middle. Your daughter, Willow lays against his other side, curled into a ball, and his other arm held tightly around her in comforting warmth. This moment is what you imagined life to be all those years, before everything…happened.

You seemed to always subconsciously wish for moments like these, at least, in the past few years. One’s where Willa has a parent other than yourself, someone else to hold her, and someone to hold you too. Domestic bliss, calm and serene. No wars or bombs, no screaming, and yelling. Simply the sound of your partner's heart and the sight of him holding your child. It's a reassurance of sorts, a silent "everything will be okay, even if it wasn't before". 

Things used to be so not okay that having this calmness is nice. Having his arms around you again is lovely, being able to kiss him and hold him, to watch him help raise your daughter, to play with her and hold her. Tickle her and carry her on his shoulders, hold her hand with his, and walk with her on the prime path. To teach her how to ride a horse, after bringing one home for her, and helping her name him.

"Wilbur?" You whisper to him, moving your head back, your gaze locked upwards on him. He looks down at you, a soft smile written on his features, and he tilts his head to the side.

"Yes, my love?" he leans down, leaving a soft kiss to your lips and you smile through it, the warmth in your stomach swelling the same way it did when you both were younger. You take a moment to admire him, the way his curls fall in his face, how his glasses are always crooked and now are no different, and how the small freckles he adorns sprinkle his cheeks. Everything about him is beautiful, and so it brings you back to what you wanted to say. What you need to say, what is right to say.

"What happened? After lmanburg? You were so…" Your mind goes blank for a word to properly describe it, without hurting him. Cruel, evil, manipulative, the list goes on. It's odd to you, how someone could become so horrible and then return to a better version of their old self in a matter of years. "Horrible, then. To everyone, to yourself."

His face falls, and so does your heart, falling to the deep pits of your stomach. You can feel the life drain from your face and it hurts. You feel an immense dread, and wonder if you hadn’t mentioned it, how you would feel. It's a difficult subject for him but at this point, you think it had to be brought up. How can one accept this happy domestic life without knowing the full truth?

"I got lost, I think. Lost in the greed I suppose." He pauses, dips his head down to press his forehead against yours. His eyes close and he takes a breath, his arm letting go of Willa and placing his hand on your cheek, fingers gently brushing the skin and his eyes hold a warm sadness to them, "I wanted the joy still, the happiness for our future. But it got pushed back. I was blinded. There's a lot I don't remember. I mean I remember pieces here and there. Bribes from dream, desperate attempts to make things work for everyone and everything."

"And then what? You realized hurting us was better?" You’re hostile now, something switching or rather, breaking in your heart. You know you shouldn't react this way, get defensive--but a piece of you is still painfully angry and hateful, filled to the brim with spite and it’s accidentally let through the cracks. You back up a moment, his touch leaving you, hand falling to his side, head still dipped down.

"I realized I couldn't make it perfect for everyone, there were sacrifices I had to make." He takes another deep breath, wraps his arms around Willow again, she doesn't move. "And I made the wrong ones, I know that. I see that." Wil looks down at the lump that his daughter forms, a little ball of a girl. She moves to grab onto his arm in her sleep and she hums, a soft smile adorns his lips.

You feel you should be satisfied with his answers, and half of you is, but you still wonder; "Why? Why did you do it?"

His gaze lets its grip off of Willow, walks up and he looks to you, pupils big and somber, bloodshot and wet. "To not hurt anyone anymore. It was for the best." 

You want to scream at him now, tell him how much of an idiot he is. Screams that are bloodcurdling, one’s that most definitely would wake up Willa and anyone surrounding the area. That no, killing yourself in fact does not stop the hurt, it only fuels it, like a spark to dead grass. He made Phil kill him, he made you watch as he destroyed his livelihood, your shared livelihood, watch as he's stabbed to death by his own goddamn father. It was never ending with him, it was always something new, something bigger, more painful than before. You want to storm away, back off, and not let him near you for a split second, it's all an overreaction, you tell yourself but you simply can't help it.

You stare at him for a moment, your expression blank and emotionless. Willow turns onto her back, eyes open slightly and her arms reach up to Wil. "Hey, daddy." She mumbles out, a smile of her own sculpted onto her features. Wil smiles back.

"Hello, my love. Are you ready for bed?" He asks, lifting her up by her sides and gently sitting her on his lap. She nods sluggishly, and she rests herself against him, chest to chest, head on shoulder, and tiny arms wrapped around his neck. "Let's get you into bed then, sweetie."

You just watch, your eyes follow him as he walks out of the living room, into the kitchen, and down the stairs. You sit there, alone now. Thoughts cycle through your mind. All the things you had wished for, every thought that graced your consciousness, every question unanswered for years. You missed him, you really truly did. But you aren’t sure who you missed more, and is the one you missed, the one you lie with at night? The one that wraps his arms around you in the morning, leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, and brushes the hair out of your face. The man that waits there, holding you, until Willow comes rushing in the room to ‘wake’ you both up. The same man that shushes you lovingly and says "Pretend you're asleep, love," the moment he hears her bedroom door open, so she can have the satisfaction of waking you both.

You now rest your head on the back of the couch, your gaze focused on the window on the opposite side of the room. Snow gently falls past it, frost taken over the glass. The fire crackles and warms you like a hug. 

What feels like moments later, even warmer arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to the body they're attached to. "Wil?" You call out, your voice coming out gravelly, and you realize you must've fallen asleep.

"Hey.." It comes out weak, the word feels broken and sounds broken. "I'm sorry, for all the shitty things I've done. I know my reasoning isn't nor has it ever been valid. But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere, and I don't have any plans of mass terrorism." His voice becomes clearer, breaks up less and he dips his head down again, pressing his cheek against yours. You nearly open your eyes, but keep them closed, and revel in the feeling of him more. 

"I know." You pause, and let your own arms wrap around him, but instead of his middle like he has you held--you wrap your arms around his neck, your hands weaving into his mop of curls. "I think part of me still hurts, it's stupid I guess." You rest your head on his shoulder, and he pulls you closer, your legs now wrapped around him too.

"It's not, I hurt you. I take accountability for that and I hate that I even did it in the first place." His voice cracks again, and you know he means it. You pull back, your hands pressed against his cheeks and he looks up at you.

You hesitate, mulling over the words falling off his lips, his expression knotted in anxiety. Your thumbs run over his pink-tinted cheeks and you kiss his forehead.

"If you were that same person, you wouldn't say that." You take a breath, "I think you've changed. In a good way."

He sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around you. "I hope I have."

“I know you have,” You pause, grasping his face in your hands and getting him to pull back simply so he can gaze at you.

“How?” His voice is merely a croaked-out mumble but it’s enough that you hear it loud and clear.

“Would you be here, in my arms, after putting our daughter to bed if you hadn't changed?" You paused, eyes gazing deeply into his and searching for any doubt to crush with your words, "Would you even search for us if you were that same man? For good, not to hurt us."

He shakes his head, "I changed, didn't I?"

"In the best way possible." A soft kiss placed on his lips, one of love and devotion. A simple peck speaking every word and emotion you've ever felt--but only the good.

He smiles against the kiss, grasping at your sides and pulling you closer and closer to him. You were already so close, practically one, but he felt the need to pull you so much closer that not only were your bodies one, but so were your souls.

He pulls away from the kiss, hands resting on your face, "I love you," he nuzzles his nose against yours and you giggle, twisting your fingers into the curls on the back of his head, "so much." The last bit is whispered, like a quiet promise. A promise of devotion and loyalty. Something you're glad to finally have. 

There's nothing in the way of him being with you. With your daughter.

"I love you more," You smile to him softly, a kiss placed on his forehead, and you push stray curls out of his face as he nuzzles his head against your chest.

taglist; @ella-fella-bo-bella @lillylvjy @sleepyburs @lotusanonymouse @lcvejoy

[distort-opia]

I assume you have read half way across, I definitely did and I always kept wondering would this scenario be possible? Would that play along similar way if ever happened in canon?

Definitely read Half Way Across. It's an iconic Batjokes story, incredibly well-written and in-character. And yes, I'd say that at least to me, it's pretty much exactly how I'd imagine this scenario unfolding in canon. A bit of spoilers for HWA incoming, for anyone who hasn't read the fic.

I think I talked about it somewhere else before, about how time and context are a huge factor to me when it comes to Batjokes-- and how The Killing Joke is a massive turning point in their dynamic. At that point in time, Joker hadn't killed Jason. He hadn't killed Sarah Essen-Gordon, he hadn't become so monstrous as to appear entirely irredeemable. Not to mention, Bruce hadn't accrued such an extensive Family by that time, which Joker hurt in different ways and which would make any current rehabilitation attempt led by Bruce personally so difficult. It follows that Bruce offering to help and Joker accepting that help would not have been such an impossibility then as it is today, in more ways than one. Besides, Joker would undoubtedly demand Bruce's involvement in his rehabilitation, if Bruce himself wouldn't take over with barely any prompting; after all, his offer to Joker in TKJ is not just "I could help you", it's also "we could work together". It shows that Bruce has thought about it extensively, has imagined a future with a Joker who's by his side.

But well... then there's the issue of the power imbalance. To be honest, it's been a while since I read HWA, but the reason why I never felt the need to write a story like that myself is because HWA tackled the major issue with any Batjokes rehabilitation story so well-- which is, put simply, Bruce getting to have too much control over Joker. Bruce's need for control is almost all-encompassing, and the reason why Joker is his nemesis is Joker's utter defiance of it. Bruce cannot fully understand Joker, hence he cannot predict or control Joker, and that's... unique. To differing degrees, Bruce controls everyone around him; he has back-up plans for his back-up plans in case someone goes rogue, in case he needs to take down close friends and allies. He knows exactly what emotional buttons to push to get the people around him to do what he thinks is best. But Joker isn't like that, and it's crucial to them being equals that Joker stays like that. However, if Joker is in Bruce's power as Bruce tries to "fix him" the way he thinks is best... the power balance becomes massively skewed. And Bruce's need for control would rear its ugly head in so many ways, while for Joker this would mean constant doubt and resentment about having to be who Bruce wants him to be-- otherwise, Bruce would turn off the flashlight half way across. HWA feels like an accurate way the story could go in canon because it deals with this, precisely. With the trust issues that would arise for both Bruce and Joker, with Bruce's need for control and ideas of normality. No matter how a rehabilitation scenario played out for Batjokes, if Bruce is personally involved in it, I do think this will always happen similarly.

Now, HWA isn't finished, and I don't know what Dracze has in store for it so I won't speculate, but I'm very much looking forward to how this tension between them would break. (And I want to make the point that it doesn't matter that it's a WIP, or if/when it gets updated-- this is an amazing story and we're lucky it's being shared with us.)

[arealphrooblem]

A Favor for a Favor Part One

This was written for an original exchange and it got way out of hand lol. The link to the full fic will be at the bottom but I thought it would be fun to throw it up here in parts. This does have named and gendered characters though

Synopsis:

When Roxanne -- Agent name Rocket -- is back-stabbed by a friend and given a serum that drains her of her powers and leaves her helpless, she has no choice but to turn to the one person she can't trust: Her nemesis -- a politician and king of the underworld. With her powerless and in the palm of his hand, what he decides to do with her is greatly influenced by their chance meeting as teenagers that neither of them have been able to forget.

When Roxanne turned 12, she kicked her soccer ball into a tree at the edge of the park. She’d done this many times before, because her aim was shit, which was probably why she never made the soccer team at her school. But this tree was different -- it had a hornet’s nest on the back. 

Roxanne had never actually seen a hornet before that day. Never in her life had she heard a sound more ominous, more terrifying than the buzz of hundreds of them, bigger than her thumb, rising like a dark cloud from behind the tree. 

She didn’t think. She just ran. 

And the whole world changed.   

It was like the entire city became a game of freeze tag or red light/green light. The entire population stood still while she dodged between them. And not just people. Cars stood still on the street, birds stopped mid flight in the air, a stream of pee froze between a dog and a fire hydrant. 

Maybe it was more accurate to say that the world became a photograph and only she could move around in it.

When she stopped, out of breath at her stoop, the world jumped back into motion again.  

Her power gave her freedom beyond anything she ever imagined as a child, and so she kept it a tightly guarded secret against her well meaning but overprotective parents. 

The loss of it now was excruciating. Her body moved like a drunk snail, even worse with her injuries.  The world crawled by at an agonizing pace. And she became so acutely aware of how helpless she was without it as she sat in the backseat of a car, blindfolded and trussed up like a pig at a luau, waiting to be delivered into the hands of her worst enemy. 

The Past

The first time they met, the biggest worry she had was completing her anatomy project. The deadline followed her like a shark’s fin, complete with the Jaws theme that played in her head. Any minute now the panic of her procrastination was going to rise from the depths and chomp her in half.

Which was how she found herself walking home from the public library far later than usual, guided only by dim streetlights.  Normally she would just run home  -- the distance from her front door to the library took fifteen seconds when she  used her super speed. But the sooner she got home, the sooner she had to start on her project, so tonight Roxanne took the normal, slow way back. 

Halfway home, a figure stumbled from an alleyway, colliding into her. Before she could right her balance, he quickly shoved her off of him, almost tumbling her into the street. 

“Hey!” she snapped, but he paid no attention to her, running crookedly down the sidewalk. 

He was probably drunk, trying to sneak home before his wife found out. Or maybe he was late for the subway train. Or maybe he was just an asshole.

The next streetlamp revealed a bloody hand print on her shoulder where he had pushed her. Alarm seized her, kept her frozen for long, excruciating seconds. 

Oh shit. 

Oh shit .

The revving of a car motor snapped her out of her panic induced haze. Roxanne lurched forward, becoming too fast for the human eye to track. The man had disappeared from the sidewalk, so she ducked into bodegas and side streets until she found him propped up behind a dumpster. 

Hiding. 

She crouched down before him. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

Which was a stupid question to ask; the answer was a glaringly obvious no. But she always rambled when she got nervous, which was why her presentations always went way over time. 

The man slurred something in response. She couldn’t understand a word of it. It didn’t sound like the kind of drunk slurring she heard at her friends’ parties. Maybe he’d been drugged. Did someone try to kidnap him?

“Where are you bleeding?” she asked again. “Can you point for me?”

He tried to wave her off, the hand in her face covered in blood from a cut on his upper forearm. There could be more, but he probably wasn’t even in his right mind to understand her. 

“We need to get you to a hospital,” she told him, pulling out her phone. 

He mumbled something at that, sounding panicked. It sounded like no .

“It’s okay,” she soothed. “They will take care of you. I’ll even go with you so you’re not alone.”

His slicked, bloody hand wrapped around her wrist , squeezing hard .

NO

She heard it and didn’t. The word echoed -- screamed -- around her, like the word of God. It blasted in her head. She felt it in her chest. 

He was Powered. That definitely complicated things, especially if he was unregistered like her. 

“Okay, okay,” she said. “No hospitals. No cops. But I can’t leave you here, so . . .I guess you’re coming with me.”

Before he could scream-think at her again, Roxanne pulled him up by his shirt and leaned him against the wall. He could barely stand. With some maneuvering and a few extra tries,s he managed to get him on her back. Then she blurred home. 

Thank God it was only a couple blocks away. He was heavy. 

The Present

She didn’t need her blindfold off to tell where they had stopped. The ocean lapping close by, the echo of pigeons above her, the smell of rust and dirt. The freezing cold air.

An empty warehouse by the docks. 

They had to carry her like a sack of potatoes because of how tightly they bound her legs and dropped her roughly onto a chair. 

“This is ridiculous,” she pouted. “I came willingly.”

“Our boss always made it clear never to take any chances with you,” replied one of the men with a snort. 

Well, she couldn’t blame him for that. Over the years, she’d been responsible for breaking a lot of his power in the city underworld and losing him a lot of money. Like a lot . 

Not to mention she needed the shadow that her power’s reputation cast to last as long as possible. Once the truth got out she was toast. 

He could have made her wait in that freezing warehouse as her limbs went slowly numb just to be a dick. She fully expected it. 

Instead, she heard the rumble of another car pull up just when her finger tips started to feel tingly. Then came the distinct sound of his slow, sure footsteps in his Italian leather loafers.

“An abandoned warehouse by the docks?” she complained. “Could you get any more cliched?”

“If it works, it works,” he replied. “I don’t try to reinvent the wheel.”

He stopped in front of her and she could feel the smirk on his face. 

“I should take a picture to immortalize this moment. I never thought I would see the Rocket so  . . .still.”

She’d squirm if she could move. Panic kicked at her chest like a wild horse. It took all her effort to contain it. 

Cool fingers pulled down the blindfold and her gaze met his dark eyes and yes, his smirk. 

“Hello, Roxanne.”

“Hello John,” she countered. 

“Please, I’m dying to know -- what on Earth drove you to offer yourself to me so . . .” he trailed off, his smirk disintegrating into shock. 

She could barely feel him this time. He glided into her mind like a canoe on a glassy river. 

“Oh Roxanne,” he breathed. “You are in trouble.”

Full story here:

Part 2 here

[skz-streamer]

Round 3

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ⋆˚🐾˖°

Paring: Lee Know x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort, crack

a/n: fully written chapter! have fun w it :)

please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately face claims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Masterlist

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ⋆˚🐾˖°

You meet Chan at the desk area in fount of the doors and introduce yourself, trying to make a decent first impression. The two of you talk for a little while he explains your hotel situation before saying he had to go but that he hoped to hear back from you soon! You smile and walk through the big doors, entering the stadium and looking for your seat as the crowds are separated by team.

People who were hoping EKG would win were blue and people rooting for SKZ were seated in the red arena. You walk through the seats hoping to find your seat next to Aecha, gladly she waves for you and you sit next to her.

You two talk about random stuff until the game starts and all the members of SKZ are projected on the big screen. you quickly turn your head as the crowd starts cheering wildly.... and you see him. Lee Minho, the Captain of the team.

"Goshhh he really is hot, better in person than all those photos you sent online" you whisper to Aecha. she giggles before replying back.

You can tell Aecha is checking all of them out as the rest of the team walks onto the stage. All of them are equally attractive, even though you only searched up photos of Minho the other members were literally just as captivating.

Soon the game starts as the announcers call out all the character selections. You pay close attention to seeing how they work strategically as a team together to win the first and following rounds. When it comes down to the final round you see that SKZ are in the lead, but with the slip of a hand somewhere in the team they lose their momentum and the other team overtakes them. Your side of the crowd sighs as SKZ loses the competition but you're happy that you at least got to see them play.

You take out your phone texting Chan that you would humbly like to decline his offer because even though you would love to game professionally you feel as if- you stop typing as the stage lights turn on once more. You expect some kind of speech from the other team but no. Instead Felix walks out on stage and officially sentences his resignation from the team, talking about the wonderful memories he's made. The whole crown starts sobbing around you, you start tearing up too as his heartfelt speech really shows all the grit and determination that the team has gone through over the years.

Without a doubt, you delete what you were previously texting to chan.

"Hey! when do I start?"

Taglist: @eee5533@mixtape-racha@weedforthoughtz@ren0325@felixvsp@painstakingly-juno@herarcadewasteland@dabiscrustyfeet@kai-lee08@sungiesoonie@slvtty4channiee@revelaffee @staygirl86 @chlodavids@jinnie-ret@bbygrlhannie@rebecca-johnson-28@tinyelfperson@minhos4thkitty@liknws@aaasia111@sleepyleeji@skzhoe@leonswifesstuff@yamaguchiwestad@nappynapnaps@yangbbokari@kpopmenace143@buckys-pillow , @seo--changbin@kai-jilee@jihanniee @hannie-bee @hyunbae-35@turtledove824@hannahhbahng@gaysontheprince@p0eticjust1c3@minleeeknow@bunchofroses07@splat00z

send an ask/go to taglist section on my page or just comment to be added!!!

[carneirinha]

two birds with one stone

written for the 2023 carrie holiday fic exchange and for @scary-white!! hope you enjoy!!

sue comes up with the idea of going to the prom with one of tommy's friends so that both she and carrie can enjoy it, a decision that ends up saving her classmates' lives. (light carrie/sue/tommy. everybody lives and has a good time, novel accurate, etcetera :3)

Sue straightened the neckline of her dress, beginning to think that the polyester lace in her dress that she could feel brush against her skin so routinely would give her further troubles. There wasn’t much to focus on while inside the car, and all she could do at this point was hope that this wouldn’t be too overwhelming for the poor girl Tommy waited for at the door.

The two had made out outside the car, before picking anyone else up for the ride, like a kiss goodbye before they began things. That night, there would be no affection. Sue found it fair that way.

(wonder how theyll look together)

She had to admit, she wasn’t as much of a Christ figure as she thought she’d be on such an occasion: She caved in. One sunny sunday, two days after she’d hatched her plan, she called Tommy in his landline, and, after waiting for a minute or two for his mom to go ‘fetch him’, she asked a simple question: “Do you have any friends who don’t have a date for the prom?”

It wasn’t too selfish, she convinced herself. In a way, she’d just been giving another person the chance to experience a once-in-a-lifetime event that had been so widely discussed the entire year. But, ah, she was lying if she didn’t say she didn’t half do it just to listen to the bands playing, half slow music, half rock, feel the golden spotlight lights softly hit her hair, be absorbed by the overabundance of glitter cut out stars and crepe paper covering everything. This wasn’t just about herself

(she hoped she sure hoped she wasnt making it so)

but it was played out, in a way, so all would come out winning in the end. How bad could that possibly be?

After a few seconds of no answer, she felt like she had to jump in, explain herself further. “I’ve been thinking. You take Carrie. I take one of your friends with no date, I know you have at least one. We can spend the night together, Carrie will get to… well, have fun, and you’ll even be able to bring a buddy along…”

Tommy finally answered after what seemed like eternity, first with a chuckle, then “We’re doing the long haul, huh? I like your plan, though.” The guy he eventually settled on was Rodrick Wilson, a quarterback that, while mostly put as an emergency third, Tommy had an amicable relation with: “He’s really a nice guy if you get to talk to him, but, since he doesn’t talk much to girls, none of them wanted to ask him out and neither did he think of anyone,” he explained.

Susan, feeling like she had finally dropped a boulder that she’d been carrying before making the call, replied, “I’ll ask him when I see him.” and, as an addition, said “Thank you. I love you.” This time, the first sentence came out naturally, almost gleefully, like a child who’d gotten candy.

Tommy took a few moments to reply, taken aback. “I love you too.”

Neither had been this emotionally intimate before planning for the senior prom.

Sue’s proposal, on a rather slow and cloudy Tuesday, had gone a lot more smoothly than Tommy's had… or at least she liked to imagine it so. As Rod - how he was often called - sat down for the class that the two shared, she walked up to him and said, in the most casual, non-committal way she could manage, “If you don’t have a date, would you like to go to prom with me?”

The boy, who Sue noted had hair that appeared to be growing into what was meant to be a mullet but didn’t quite reach that point, cocked his head back in a lighthearted laugh that indicated he somewhat knew about what she and Tommy had been up to,

(oh god this was a bad idea)

then nodded and said, “Yeah, sure thing.” And that was the last of it. Sue went to her seat and class began as normal, surprised that at least half of the plan seemed to have gone well.

What was tough to endure, however, was the surprise that some made clear. Lots of people, of course, weren’t surprised and caught on to what was happening. But the ones that were, mostly girls, seemed to almost react to the rumours as if what the two had done was an impossible feat. One of these, of course, was Helen Shyres, when the Decoration Committee worked on the prom mural in the gym. “You and Tommy are going, right?”

“Yes,” Sue replied, as she painted a gorgeous sunset with orange coloured chalk. She made sure that it would be the most gorgeous Spring Ball that would ever exist. “but not together.”

Helen stopped drawing and the two looked at each other in silence, like Susan had just mentioned something unthinkable and profane. “Can I ask you about it, Sue? God, everyone’s talking.”

Sue stopped drawing. “Of course.” She put the chalk down and tried to beat off excess chalk from her hands, which were bright orange at this point. “I suppose I ought to tell someone. Tommy asked Carrie, so that she’ll get out of her own head a little, and I asked Rod because he just wanted to go but had no one to take him.”

There was a bit of an awkward silence, so, once more, she felt as if she should add some information to explain herself. “We’re still going to be together and have fun. We’ll even sit at the same table. We’re just wanting others to have fun, too. Besides… I owe Carrie this much.”

And, then, as she saw Carrie get inside Tommy’s Ford 1963, sitting next to her on the backseat, face half giddier than she had ever seen her before or ever, and half mortified, Sue couldn’t help but notice for the first time that she wasn’t hideous as people made her out to be. In fact, as they drove around in his car, street lamps casting shadows and illuminating her face all at once, she was quite gorgeous.

Her dark blonde hair, that she usually saw frizzy and styled for practicality, laid around her pale shoulders like a curtain. Her round face now seemed to be positively glowing, in a way, and even her dark eyes had more of a shine. Her full lips, she noted, were highlighted with a peach-coloured lipstick that suited her just right. Her figure, usually hidden away by cardigans and long skirts, was now accentuated - in almost every way, even if Sue didn’t quite pay attention to those things - by the beautiful, simplistic, dark red dress that she wore.

All she could say was, “Hi... Did Tommy tell you how stunning you look already?” Tommy, upon hearing that, seemed to smile and slightly nod, while driving. Carrie replied, timidly, “Yes, he did.” He didn’t lie.

The air in the gymnasium that night smelled heavily like synthetic fabrics, hairspray and crepe paper, but Sue didn’t mind. She was right, making the decision to still go to prom was worth it in her mind. She sat, with a glass of fruit punch, mostly people watching: It was a habit she often liked to do, especially in moments with as many people as this. The Honor Society had just begun collecting the votes for run off voting for Prom King and Queen, and, in some faces, she saw nervousness and anticipation for something, in others, boredom and contempt as their fellow students snatched the ballots from their hands.

Most importantly, her attention was redirected back to her table. They’d all collectively voted for Tommy Ross and Carrie White, as, when Tommy exclaimed, “Let’s vote for ourselves. To the devil with false modesty!”, Carrie laughed and

(oh she sounded cute)

immediately after, Susan followed with a lighthearted “Gee, I’m voting for you two as well. I just can’t compete like this.” When she looked over to her prom date’s ballot, he seemed to have done the same. Carrie giggled, before accidentally hurting herself with a splinter from her pencil after voting for herself. Susan’s eyes widened, but as Tommy began to comfort her, she couldn’t help but zone out as she figured things would probably be alright. He’d been treating her well the entire night.

She looked up. It wasn’t particularly remarkable: a regular gymnasium ceiling, but, if anything, she was drawn to it because of how unremarkable it was compared to how flashy the entire building looked, a sore for the eyes despite its beauty, what with the bright lights.

And then she noticed something.

There were two buckets above the lights that illuminated the stage.

Chris had gotten inside the gym during the Prom Committee decoration, and, as Sue’s mood soured as she watched her talk to Tina Blake - of course, the two were as close as they could get -, a question arose in her mind. “Helen?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are they going to do something?”

Helen’s face seemed to somewhat distort itself, and, like an actor in a play, she replied, sweetly, “I don’t know.” Overinnocent.

“Oh.” Sue replied curtly, taking note.

(you know you know something: accept something goddammit if it's only yourself tell me)

The two went back to colouring.

She hadn’t seen those buckets there before, though it could have just been a small detail that her brain left out. Why wouldn’t it? As she examined it more, however, she couldn’t help but notice how out of place they were.

It was then she noticed the rope and the pulley set up near them, looking like a strange Rube Goldberg machine, that she remembered not seeing them before. It could be confetti or something equally obnoxious of the sort, but, if it were, she would have seen it be set up by a classmate or two when aiding with decoration.

The rope led to underneath the stage, as she tracked it down, and it was then a familiar, but alien feeling creeped up. She didn’t worry the entire night about Chris and her kind showing up and doing something, but it was then that the feeling hit her once more, like a sharp chest pain.

“Excuse me,” she said, as she got up from her seat, looking at Tommy who looked back at her with a confused look on his face. “I have to see something.” She slowly walked towards the side of the stage, trying to avoid bumping into Tina Blake and Norma Watson, who shined with pride and walked around collecting the votes like hyperactive ants.

When she did, she then noticed there seemed to be at least some sound coming from under the stage, muffled by the dark mint faux leather curtains that seemed to have been there since 1954. That strange feeling overcame her once more, as if something was incredibly, terribly wrong, and she pulled the stage upholstery up.

(thats hargensen i knew it i fucking knew it)

Blood rained down on the empty thrones, without anyone to crown.

[drmajalis]

Metroid shower thoughts: Lower Brinster has as many official remixes as Lower Norfair. How come they never brought back the actual "Theme of Samus Aran" from Super Metroid? (The one that plays in Crateria after getting the power bombs) The one everyone thinks is the Theme of Samus Aran is actually the Theme of Super Metroid.

Oh man if Metroid Prime 4 takes after Dread I think that would be awesome to see the irony of Samus being a Metroid right after there was Dark Samus, who was a Metroid that was Samus.

Super Metroid's physics are great, the floatiness gives a weight to Samus' suit that the 2d Metroids abandoned afterward, and no game after ward had wall jumping anywhere as good as it.

Do you think Samus ever goes to Elysia when she just, needs a minute? Like in the secret ending of Prime 3? It's the only Chozo connected place that's still "alive", Tallon IV is just ruins, and Zebes, SR388 and ZDR all kersploded.

What do you think happened to the Metroids on Aether after Prime 2? The fact that several were possessed by the Ing implies they're probably at loose on the planet somewhere, I doubt the Pirates would've been able to capture them all before they left- so, either the Luminoth are holding onto Metroids, or the Federation culled them but then later took the one from Samus to study? I may have written a fic about this lmao. Can you imagine if Metroid had first started only a few years later? We probably never would've gotten the Morph Ball. I can't exactly verify this the word seems to be that they made the Morph Ball because the NES couldn't accurately depict Samus crawling. If true, and, it seems plausible to me, it's a real example of how limitations breed creativity.

[longeyelashedtragedy]

What are your most vanilla headcanons? Line what are your missionary position thoughts about Frank et al

Ohh at first I read this literally and was like hmm, is Frank a fan of missionary? This is a good one, I'm really horn dogging it these days but I'll take a peek into my soul for the vanilla that lurks within:

-Maybe this is kind of basic, but I think Frank really likes to be able to lie around reading a book with his uh, partner. This then becomes a bit tricky with Mason (and with Jamie who totally does not read books, but--secondary headcanon--I think Jamie loves Frank to read to him) because Mason isn't a reader. I think this might cause a bit of an internal challenge for Frank over time. As we kind of see in "couples try new things" there's a point where Frank breaks and can't keep playing the Daddy role--like, it's only natural for him up to a certain point. I think he'd grow frustrated not being able to Read Books with Mason, but wouldn't know what to do with that frustration. Then on the flip side, when he gets with Anthony he is threatened by Anthony's intelligence (which I haven't written about yet, but I'd really like to.) My man just can't win!

-Canonically, Frank Senior still lives in the same house all the kids grew up in. At least one of his two daughters lives right around the corner from him, and both daughters have fun going to his pub. Frank could drive over in an hour, hour and a half, but he...doesn't. So, here's where the headcanon comes in: sometimes Frank Sr goes into Franko's Little Bedroom (we got to see it in this ancient Chelsea video and the interactions between the two Franks sure are something alright) and just sits on the bed and lets the sadness? melancholy? wash over him. How did it end up like this?

-When Frank was a younger adult, I think he enjoyed being handy in the kitchen, but now he's taken on that Man Of The House persona (though from all I've taken in he doesn't give like...domineering asshole husband vibes) and sits around uselessly watching tv during cooking times. EXCEPT that I think his 90s sitcom marriage (as you so accurately called it!) winds up reinforcing this because I can definitely see Christine being like "omg, you're a hot mess do not come into my kitchen you'll ruin everything." (I can see this because she has said as much on Loose Women, lol.) Wonder who his role model is for Being a Good Husband? Uncle Harry I bet.

-It's funny, because some headcanons I've had then turn out to be true? For example, that Frank's spoiled to death by his in-laws (the Son they Never Had!) And god he must totally eat that shit up. I imagine that they were hesitant about Frank at first. A big shot footballer? Sure, he's rich, but there are so many bad stories about footballers...! But Frank Isn't Like the Others! He's smart and reads and pays attention to politics and writes in his journal on the team bus! He was able to make a good impression. How lucky that he Isn't Like the Others!

-Related...I headcanon that Frank Sr (back like over 10 years ago when his opinion still mattered) likes Christine's family's uh, philosophies on the UK. This actually comes up very briefly in the threesome fic because...what better place to put that than a threesome cmon

-When they were younger, Frank happily did Jamie's homework for him. Since Jamie's legendary neuroatypical brain made it hard for him to eat most foods, Frank would eat his extra unwanted food at family dinners. We know food was always a comfort for Franko, and this way no one would yell at Jamie for leaving food on his plate. They were always there for each other <3

-Has this come up in my fics? Probably. I'm not sure how to articulate this the right way--but I think Frank has never been in denial to himself about his sexuality. He's been ashamed, scared, all of that, sure. But I think he almost doesn't even wish he was straight? Like the only reason why he'd wish that was for the convenience. But he loves men and wants them with every ounce of his being! So he can't even imagine being another way. In my mind, he ultimately uses this to justify being a cheater, asshole, and a creep to younger lads, which is very fun to write.

-Is this one too spicy? I've been thinking this basically since the foundation of the Lampardverse lol--There's no way in hell Frank could have gotten married to a lady with a very "classically feminine" body type. Like noooooooo way. I think he'd freak the fuck out! His kinsey 5 powers can only go so far.

-Anthony has toooootally challenged Frank to a chess match. And Frank doesn't know how to play. So Anthony teases him about how he should be able to learn it quickly what with that IQ he has. Frank of course is stressed out by this because he can't have Anthony beat him in something.

-In the Derby era (digestif!) I think Frank fooled himself into thinking he was truly in love with Mason.

-It took Frank until 2021 to have a son and while I don't doubt that he loves his kids, I think he might have some mixed feelings about Having A Son--or if he doesn't now, he did then.

-I think Jamie Jamie Cousin Jamie and Christine must have an interesting relationship. She's definitely way smarter than he is, but they seem to get along quite well, and it's fun that they're in different parts of the same Industry--I think this puts Jamie at ease--she can treat him as a peer and not as Jamie the pretty face but total joke--and I'd like to think she appreciates Jamie a lot for actually treating Frank nicely, as I headcanon her as being a Frank Sr anti at this point too. Of course, as always with anything in the Lampard universe, there's a lot going on behind the scenes. Oh and--Christine and Frida (Jamie's wag) don't like each other at all.

-Oh, and I think this might actually be @protect-daniel-james 's idea, but it's so delightful that I have to put it out there--Mason was the snitch in the Utd dressing room last season!!!

shit did you want things that aren't Lampard related? this is kind of all I think about 😭. Except this:

-Nobody knew how much Mikel's sanity depended on Granit--not even Mikel 😭

[coraniaid]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks to @isagrimorie for the tag!

1 How many works do you have on Ao3?

14

2 What's your total Ao3 word count?

452,732

3 What fandoms do you write for?

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (and technically Angel, I suppose, but not really), Mass Effect (but not recently)

I've also tried writing some Avatar: The Last Airbender and Farscape and Person of Interest works over the years, but nothing that I've finished yet.

4 What are your top five fics by kudos?

Coexist: Season 3 Buffy AU in which it was Giles, and not Jenny, who was murdered by Angelus in Season 2 [27 chapters; 277,084 words; various POVs but mostly alternating Buffy/Faith]

Last Year's Rain Didn't Fall Quite So Hard: Season 4 Buffy AU in which Faith wakes up from her coma having forgotten about killing Allan Finch and everyting that happened afterwards [one shot; 16,904 words; Buffy POV]

Together: Season 3 Buffy AU in which the Homecoming Dance goes a bit differently [one shot; 2,711 words; Faith POV]

Done: post-canon Buffy fic set a few years after the end of Season 7, with Buffy having mostly stepped back from being an active Slayer [one shot; 4,312 words; Buffy POV]

Mixed Signals: post-canon Buffy fic looking at Faith's changing relationship with Buffy since first meeting her [one shot; 4,919 words; Faith POV]

5 Do you respond to comments?

Not often or promptly enough. I try though: I really do appreciate the comments I get a lot.

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

Think this is a toss-up between two different canon-compliant Faith POV one-shots: One Girl In All The World and Calling.

7 What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Together is the happiest and fluffiest thing I can imagine ever writing.

8 Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think so? None that I can remember anyway. (I do use the block and mute features on Ao3 though, so maybe I'm just blissfully ignorant.)

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

No. Just don't have the talent for it.

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

I don't have any published crossovers but I do have very vague ideas for a Buffy/Farscape crossover that I sometimes play around with in my mind. (Largely inspired by the joke of taking the couple of times Crichton makes references to 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' which his crewmates don't get, and pretending that they're right to assume he's talking about a person he knows rather than a TV show he used to watch.)

11 Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge (and honestly I'm not sure I'd want to know if I had?).

12 Have you ever had a fic translated?

If I have I don't know about it (and I would love to know if I did!).

13 Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I think it might be fun, but I'd probably have to change the way I write a lot.

14 What's your all time favorite ship?

Moya!

I mean, look at her!

(Oh, okay, it's Buffy/Faith, if that wasn't obvious.)

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

I'd love to finish either of my uncompleted Mass Effect fics (the first and longest, Residuum, is actually fully planned out and has been for years: I just got stuck on writing a particular chapter and never managed to come back to it; I had a fairly detailed plan for Night Winds in Nos Astra when I posted the first chapter but then I decided I hated it and never figured out how to fix it.)

16 What are your writing strengths?

Dream sequences. Internal monologues. Foreshadowing. Planning. Quoting bits of canon back at the reader in hopefully interesting ways. Hopefully getting the characters' voices sounding reasonably accurate.

17 What are your writing weaknesses?

Deadlines. Brevity. Physical descriptions. Titles.

18 Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I haven't really thought about it much before, honestly.

19 First fandom you wrote for?

Mass Effect is the first fandom I submitted anything for anywhere online. I wrote some Avatar: The Last Airbender fic before that though (a long Azula POV AU that I would kind of like to come back to one day, though I'd probably have to rewrite it from scratch).

20 Favorite fic you've written

Realistically, I think popular consensus must be correct that Coexist is the best thing I've ever written (though I sometimes wish I'd spent more than a minute thinking up a title). It's definitely the work I'm proudest of, and I think it contains some of my best writing (and ... well, most of my writing, based on the numbers I just posted). But I have a bit of a soft spot for some of my earlier Mass Effect fics, which aren't incredibly polished but I learned a lot from working on, and for Last Year's Rain Didn't Fall Quite So Hard as well.

Tagging: @juanabaloo @beatriceeverytuesday @explosionshark @bodytoflame-ao3 and anyone else who wants to do this.

[callivich]

fic writer interview

I was tagged by a few lovely people, thank you! 💖

(I have two ao3 accounts - one for shameless and one for star wars but I’m just gonna answer for Gallavich because I don’t use the other account anymore and I’m not involved in that fandom anymore either.)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

63

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

155,455

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Extraction // Time Slip // Date Night // History Lesson // Bed Shopping

This surprises me because I assumed Roleplaying would be in the top 5 but it just missed out by a few kudos.

4. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I always try to. I really really appreciate comments and I always read them all. Sometimes I even go back and reread some of the ones that really meant a lot to me. 💖

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Maybe chapter 28 of ‘31 ways we never meet’ - Time Travel. It’s kinda open ended so there’s a suggestion things might not be ok. But generally, I’m not great with writing angst, although I love reading it.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Most of them! ���

7. Do you write crossovers?

No. I’ve only ever been tempted to once and it was a Schitt’s Creek crossover where David and Patrick move to the West Side of Chicago and are neighbours to Ian and Mickey. Lots of miscommunication which leads to David and Patrick not realising that the grumpy, scary guy is actually gay and married to the friendly, hot redhead they keep meeting around the complex.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No.

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

I wish I could but it’s just not good when I’ve tried in my drafts so I don’t.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes - Camping 💖

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

@arrowflier and I wrote a back-and-forth/round robin type story about Ian and Mickey house-hunting. That was lots of fun. (Annoyingly, tumblr search is so bad that I can’t find the posts on my blog😩)

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Gallavich. Never loved a ship this much or felt so inspired by one.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Time Slip - I know I’m not gonna finish that (so if anyone wants to take it on, please do feel free!). I want to finish At Liberty as I got further with that and had more of a story in mind but I’m not sure I will.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. I feel most confident about my dialogue and I get a lot of positive feedback about it.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action/descriptions - I struggle to write what I can imagine in my mind.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I like when other people do it. I only speak English so I wouldn’t feel confident enough to do it or trust an online translator to come up with something accurate.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Ian and Mandy friendship - something post-canon where Mandy comes back to Chicago and finds herself struggling with a little bit of unrequited love towards Ian and a little bit of jealousy towards Mickey.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

It changes. At the moment, I think it’s probably Strange Tales From The Southside. Because they’re spooky and a little bit different from what I usually write.

——

This was fun! Tagging anyone who wants to play! And I mean anyone, if you’re a writer and you want to do this - consider this your invitation! 💖

[periwinckles]

Let's talk about Delly Cartwright.

Do you like her character?

What do you think about Katniss' description of her: "Delly Cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish hair"

How did you feel about her exclusion from the movies?

What do you think happened to her after the war?

Do you have any fancast?

Any fanfic with Delly-centric story or with her POV?

Thank you :D

@curiousnonny

Well, well, well, let's have a chat shall we?

There's a few things that you need to know about me:

1- I LOVE minor characters.

2- I LOVE when said characters are apparently irrelevant and end up being crucial to our hero in some way;

That being said...

I LOVE Delly Cartwright. I don't know why, because I liked her from the beginning, when Peeta mentions her name and how "similar" she was to the Avox girl. Something about the name made her sound so welcoming and approachable.

DESCRIPTION: My first thought when Katniss described her was that probably Delly wasn't like that at all. Katniss describes her in a sort of belittling way. To me it sounded like how a girl with a crush would describe another girl that she believed to be a closer friend to said crush. Something like "oh she's not even that pretty", so I'm not sure how much we should take her depiction of Delly as accurate.

From that point forward, Delly's physical appearance is in the sidelines: she ends up being an important part of Peeta's recovery and probably in his rediscovery of his feelings for Katniss (remember how she snapped at him for being rude to Katniss in the cafeteria?)

MOVIES: I was sad that she wasn't included in the movies. I know having Prim being the one to visit Peeta was simpler, but come on... it made no sense at all. The book specifically says they chose Delly because she had no connection to Katniss.

AFTER THE WAR: I think Delly came back to District 12 after the war. She had a little brother to look after. Given all the trauma the two must have faced, I think it might be easier for her to come back, instead of going to a different district.

FANCAST: Eliza Taylor will always be Delly Cartwright in my mind.

FANFICS: I always loved Delly, and when I started my first fic "Letters From New Panem" I knew I wanted her to play a sort of big role. I needed a romantic pair for her and ended up going with Thom (another minor character that I liked a lot.) I ended up falling in love with this pairing, and that led to my very first Thelly centric fic "The train Back to Twelve". I would love to stand here and tell you that my favorite Delly fic was written by someone else, but truth be told, there's not that many! (And even though there's a ton of fic authors who write way better than me, if I'm being honest, I do love my plot line, and the way I imagined them coming together after the war.)

It came to the point that now Thelly is a distinctive feature in all my HG fics.

[dp-marvel94]

Meta for Face to Face Chapter 54

First off, thank to anyone who read this chapter and this long post. This chapter was one of the most self indulgant things I have ever written. XD So many concert memories went into it. I'll talk about some of them below. There are also links to the songs "performed in the chapter" as well as some videos of each band performing live. As I told my sister after I wrote the scenes at the beginning when the trio met Josh and Travis, writing dialogue for the real people felt like playing with dolls, but in the worst, most embarrassing possible way. (Don't worry, I actually got permission from everyone featured, but more about that at the end). So I watched a lot of videos and tried my best to make everything accurate and use actual quotes when I could.

Chaotic Resemblance- Travis and the rest of the guys are from Oklahoma if that helps with imagining his accent. It's not particularly unique but when I was writing him this chapter and trying to remember how he speaks, that twang is what my brain kept remembering. Travis and all the guys are super nice, awesome to talk to. And on the short list of irl people who know about my fic writing.

Two songs are mentioned in the chapter. First- "Virtual Reality"

And Second- "Riot Anthem". Live video here. The band played this song the first time I saw them and I remember that set vividly for how much fun this song was. It definitely pushed me to run back to the merch table and buy a cd.

Relent- The first song mentioned is "Ghost," of the famed T shirt which I have Danny buy and which I bought irl. XD

"Heavy" - (Video of this song at Uprise 2022). The words I have Miggy say before the song are based on his commentary on the lyric book for their album. "Rape. Sexual Manipulation. Sex Trafficking. The devasting emotions that come with it. This song is my wife’s story, and I'm honored to tell it. She’s been through so much. She has come out victorious, and now her story will help millions, breaking the silence around topics not talked about enough." Admittedly, much heavier (no pun intended) than the blurb in the fic. But when applying the song to Danny and his story, I needed to make some changes.

I have Heavy be a emotionally significant song for Danny in this chapter. When I was thinking about his reaction to each band and songs I wanted to feature, I realized that it made sense for that song to be the token "song you cry to". It just made sense, having previously said that he listened to the album a bunch of times and having him list Heavy as a favorite, that that song would have had an emotional impact. I really wish I had thought to put that fact in the text before now so that little character moment doesn't feel like it come from nowhere. But what are you gonna do? 🤷‍♀️

(A bit of religious discussion below)

Also, I have Danny talk to the band a little bit about what the song meant to him, something I've done and seen done with many bands before. The band offers to pray with him and though that has never happened personally with me with Relent (of the 4 bands here, they are actually the one I have seen the fewest times and know the least), I have had other Christian musicianaries (musicians who view their touring and performing as a ministry) offer to pray with me and I have accepted that offer. Not including that moment would have been a disservice, considering how much I love all these groups and respect what they stand for. But I decided to cut away from the actual scene to give a sense of privacy. It felt right for something often so tender.

And the last song, played when Danny first spots Johnny- "Last Days"

GFM- Cries in GFM broken up. 😭 Seriously though, this band consisted of three sisters, who went they started we all teens. I realized after writing the chapter that for the time I am imaging for the story (just before they disbanded last year), calling the oldest two teens would be inaccurate; CJ and Maggie are both in their early twenties. But I decided to keep it since them all being teens would make the group cooler in the Phantom trio's eyes. And I should mention, they're not entirely out of the scene though; the basest and screamer, Maggie, still tours and makes music under her name, Magdalene Rose.

As for the songs featured- The one during sound check is "Give me a Sign"

S.M.I.L.E- (Live video) The song where Jack gets in the circle pit. XD Inspired by my dad getting in circle pit at metal shows. He's 53 now and broke his leg last year, messing up his knee pretty badly, so his moshing days are over. But as recently as Warped tour 2017, he was still doing it. I'm over here too clumsy and short to even think about it; just head banging is good enough for me, thanks. 🤣

And the last song- "I don't need your fantasy" A Sam Manson song if I've ever heard one. Also, this is the song with the famed cupcakes. (Sadly, I couldn't find a video of this on YouTube to demo 😥) I really wanted to write about the ridiculous fanatical joy that comes with having icing and cake thrown at you during a metal show. 🤣 Words can't really capture the experience but I tried.

The Protest- In the chapter, the trio meets Josh at the merch tables before the show. This is very reminiscent of when I met him actually. This was in 2016. My sister and I drove about 2 hrs for the show; they were playing with another band we knew of and we'd heard a few songs by The Protest on a local radio station. We arrived super early and went to the door of the tiny church they were playing in to beg to use the restroom before the doors opened. Josh came right up to us before we even got to the restroom. He introduced himself as Josh, asked our names, shook our hands, and said he was excited we were here tonight. And the whole time, I was thinking about needing to use toilet and didn't even realize who he was until the show started. XD The band was significantly less popular then but I know from going to a dozen plus shows since then, he (and the rest of the guys in the band) are like that with everyone. So I am being absolutly serious in the chapter; Josh Bramlett is one of the kindest, most genuine people I know.

The first song is "Paper Tiger." The sound goes out because of Shadow, during this song and the guitarist stales for time. His name is Adam, nickname Sarge, but I couldn't figure out how to put that in the text. The joke that he tells in the one his real life counterpart suggested when I asked him in March. I also based rest of the what he said during technical malfunctions (the joke about being voted out of the band) during their set when I saw them last October with Disciple.

The next song- "Welcome to the Freakshow" This is my favorite song of theirs to hear live. It's so much fun to head-bang/dance to! Also, Maddie films her son instead of the band, as my mom likes to do to me and my sister. 😝

This message in between the songs- This is word for word part of what Josh said during their set at Kingdom Come Festival 2022; I looked up the video (Message starts at 31:40) and recorded what he said word-for-word to be accurate to Josh and the guy's conviction and the heart behind what they do. It was really important to me that I was authentic there, since I love these guys and what they stand for so much.

And the last song- "Valor." When I was trying to pick which song to end on, I wanted a very specific feeling. I told my sister I was trying to describe that rare moment when you're singing your heart out and you met someone else's eyes and they're singing the same words with the same passion. There's a moment of connection and you know you both believe every single word. I asked what Protest song it should be and she said "Valor." So I went with it.

Guardians of the Children- From their website.

Guardians of the Children is a nonprofit 501(c)3 organization comprised of motorcycle enthusiasts  that use motorcycles as tools to help children who have overcome child abuse, ages 0-17, become strong, confident, and courageous again. Once a  child has made an outcry of abuse and the criteria for our support is met, that child is “adopted” into our family as a Little Guardian. Members of G.O.C will escort the child to court, attend school and social events at the child’s request, provide protection and support, and sponsor “Little Guardian” private events, yearly. The goal of these events is to provide a safe space where the Little Guardians can have fun,socialize with others that have experienced similar trauma, and forget for a moment about the fear, doubt, and insecurity that was forced upon them at such a young age. Every child has all the  power and strength within themselves, just like a motorcycle on the  open road, and the biker behind it, we just encourage them to unleash it  as we fight their demons together.

A few years I went to a show they hosted at a local park, featuring GFM and Chaotic Resemblance, hence the similarities to the concert here.

Gotta Rock ‘em all Tour - This is the name of the tour The Protest hosted in March this year, thought the line up was different from the one imagined here (In real life, Behold the Beloved, Relentless Flood, and The Protest). I was lucky enough to see them on this tour. And got to tell the guys about this chapter. 😳😅😊 Honestly, it was one of the most embarrassing thing's I've ever done but in good conscious, I couldn't not say anything, especially since I have talked to Josh about my writing before.

(Religious discussion to follow)

Their song "Greater" had been really important for me, to remind me about why I do what I do. And at KCF last year, I talked with him about that song and our shared conviction for a little bit. From the song:

"I don't do it for the money Don't do it for the fame As long as someone listens, I don't care who knows my name I don't do it for the glory Don't do it for the game I do it all to make them see this is all for something greater than me"

My goal isn't to write for the comments, hits, or bookmarks. Not being well known in the fandom or well liked by people. I write for a greater purse. And this greater thing is Jesus Christ and his kingdom. I love Jesus for who He is and what He's done for me, in and through me (and that is a whole long, complex story there). But a small part: I fervently believe writing these stories is one of the reasons God put me here and gave me the interests I do (yes, including DP) and the talent in writing I have. From the messages I sent to The Protest and the other bands in this chapter, asking if they wanted to take a look at the chapter.

"I write this story for fun and post because I love the characters and the community of other people who do too. But I also see it as a mission field, as a way to write about God's love and grace and show it to people who otherwise wouldn't hear. This chapter is also a love letter to the Christian Rock community as a whole. I love you guys, your music, and the community a lot. The Protest, other bands, and fellow fans have had a huge impact on my life: encouraging me, inspiring me, reminding me of Jesus's love and strengthening my conviction to serve Him. The Protest inspires me to write, ministering in the way I know I've been called."

The point is: I put a lot of heart into this story and all my others. I pray that God will guide my words and be glorified in them. I pray that the people who need to read them will, and they will be encouraged, strengthened and inspired. And most importantly- that God will speak to them, not me. That they will, that you will, see just a hint of His love and grace in what I write and in how I interact with people in this community. I pray that lives will be changed, even in small ways. That seeds will be planted, even if I never see them grow.

I love all of you.

[novaviis]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by dear @victorianpining

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

52.

2. What's your total A03 word count?

921,539.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly DC/Young Justice, but also Inuyasha and Hetalia

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Bridge

Fireworks in July

The Floor is Lava

The Bird and the Worm

you lost the starlight in your eyes

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! Granted I don't always, but when I get a comment asking a question, or one that particularily touches me, I usually respond. But even when I don't, I read and reread every single one.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'd say as a whole, I'm not interested in angst without pay off. I'll absolutely drag my stories through the angstiest plotlines imaginable, and I'll do it gleefully, but there is nearly always some sort of pay off in an ultimate happy ending. That said, if we're looking at fics as individual stories (particularily in the case of Watercolour as a whole series), I'd say the angstiest might be Arctic or Au Revoir

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

If I'm measuring the happy ending in terms of the angst it took to get to it, definitely Light Me A Lantern.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I think the closest I've gotten is misunderstandings? Particularily when it comes to how I write Dick Grayson's lineage in Watercolour. I've had misunderstandings where people thought I was erasing his Romani identity and making him Romanian instead, when I write him as both - there is a lot of Romani history and a huge population in Romania, and I decided to play into that. Sometimes it gets lost in translation so to speak.

9. Do you write smut?

When I feel like it!

10. Do you write crossovers?

I used to, not really so much anymore.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of! Ngl I'd be pretty upset.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! The incredible @minakok translated Light Me A Lantern into Spanish (Enciéndeme un farolillo) and @eldescensoseduce has been chipping away at translating the beast that is Watercolour into Spanish as well. The first two chapters of Un Giorno Per Noi has been translated into Chinese as well!

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

I've had beta readers and been a beta reader and had an absolute blast with both - but in terms of actually sitting down, plotting out and writing something together with someone? Not yet. Although the closest thing has probably been the roleplay I've been writing with a friend over discord. That beast has AUs of AUs.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Don't do this to me.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't want to say I doubt I ever will because I really really want to, but... I have to say Der Unsterbliche Preis.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I would say dialogue and writing actions sequences. They're both things that I've struggled with in the past and worked very hard to figure out how to do properly.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I still struggle with pacing at times. I don't want to rush into the action and the exciting stuff so sometimes I draw it out more than I really need to and the pacing gets away from me.

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

All for it! If I'm using a language I'm not familair with, I'll translate it back and forth a few times trying to make sure I have the nuances as close as I can get to accurate, and I always include translations in the notes. However, if it's a long scene of dialogue, I will just write in that the characters have switched languages, just to make thinks flow better. I don't want to have to scroll up and down the page constantly when I'm reading.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh god. It was either Digimon or Pirates of the Carribean. Eons ago.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is painful. I definitely have my top fics, the ones I'm most proud of, but Un Giorno Per Noi is a fic that I have reread every christmas since I finished it, so by a percentage of a margin, I'll say that one. Close behind are Light Me A Lantern and Terminal Velocity.

I'm tagging @hanmajoerin @flashhwing and whoever would like to do it because I'm a cop out ✌️