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jackiequick · 7 months ago

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Jennie Rue Woods — Marvel’s Timeless Gal 📝

MARVELOUS AU — Auntie JJ

Full name: Jennifer Ruth Underwoods

Other Identity: Jeanie Woods

Nicknames: Jen, Jennie, Jeanie, Jean, Ruthy, Rue, JJ, Dollface, Barbie, Quinnie, Fefe

Age: 28–32 (87 years of age)

Birthday: June 30, 1923 (Cancer)

Height: 5’5 (5’7 in heels)

Occupations: Waitress, Coffee Girl, SSR Sectary, Agent, Widow, Mama Bear, Assistant

Alias: Alexa Bowmen, Paige McKenna, Jacquline Stark, London Holloway, Olivia Erhart, Eliza Pearson, Emily King, Barbra James Scott, Ashlee Lance

Family:

- Parents, Alexander & Fran Underwood (dead)

- Older Sister, Dolores Marie Underwood (dead to her)

- Sister, Peggy Carter (the big sister she never had)

- Brother Figures, Jack Thompson & Daniel Sousa (her boys)

- Howard & Maria Stark (her found family)

- Anthony Edwards Stark (her nephew #1)

- Rei Stark ( #1 godchild )

- And list goes on!

Relationship status: Single, but has dated and been engaged once

—————

Personality: Jen is a sarcastic goofball with a heart of gold despite all the crap she been through in life. On occasion she is spirited, stubborn and determined. Not just that, she’s quick-witted with a sharp tongue. However she is very kindhearted, a little slow at times but she’ll get there, she can get distracted very easily at times and motherly to those around her.

Due to being on her own for a good part of her life, she ended up being observant and trying to be resourceful. She has a knack for getting information without raising suspicion and being sneaky for the most part.

Style:

Evie has a vintage and classy style, often seen in 1940s-inspired dresses, with a touch of modern flair. Her wardrobe reflects her independent spirit and love for classic fashion. Even as she progresses over the decades she stays with a simple yet gentle sense of fashion as a way to blend in with the crowd.

Skills:

Proficient with weapons, particularly guns.

Basic combat

Previously worked as a nurse during WWII, honing her medical skills.

Quick thinker, adapts well to challenging situations.

Handle a control panel

Design and disguise

———————————————

—Background:

Jen grew up in a decent sized house with a Russian father and a Italian-American mother, along with her older sister Dottie. When it came to both children, their parents loved them both the exact same.

However, behind the smiles and glittering eyes on both daughters held an small rivalry that over time.

Dottie was always the one-upper of the pair, acting like she knew more and always one step ahead of everything. Hell, Dottie enjoyed having her nose in her young sister’s business, ignoring her most of the day, parenting her like she was a second-mother and treating her sister, Jen, like a pest that she couldn’t stand.

But Jen wasn’t far behind either, as she rather enjoyed sometimes sticking her nose in older sister’s business, taking her sweater without asking and bugging her with whatever new thing she was obsessed with at the moment. The difference was that Jen knew her limits, as she held a fear behind her smile when it came to Dottie, often intimated by her status and rude attuned attitude.

It didn’t help that both ladies couldn’t be more different when it came to their interests.

In result, it often led to plenty of bickering, fighting over every single thing possible and barking off more than they can chew.

However, it all came to a sudden pause when their father Alexander was overseas with Dottie to Russia saying they had business to attend to. Her mother only simply nodded and hugged them both watching them drive away, before entering the house to continue her daily task, asking Jen to follow behind.

The girl was confused on the matter and questioned the trip later that night. Her mother, Fran, simply told her that Dottie was one of the few girls signed off to train and becomes a skilled fighter.

Saying that one day, Jennifer might get her turn to do the same but the young blonde refused the idea. She rather stay home, be a kind young lady, fall in love, paint all the gardens in the fields and learn what she needs to in America. She visited Russia before, as she always found it to be colder and unassuming to her likely.

Whatever Dottie was doing, Jennifer wanted no part of it.

Thankfully, with a small sigh, her mother agreed to her dreams and kissed her cheek.

Years later, Jennifer would learn what her sister was doing and fought to not follow the same path. She had to desire to become a skilled fighter in Mother Russia and train to be become an assistant to The Red Room. But faith had other plans, as her parents promised her to do a trail run, live in Russia and educate herself into getting certificate of achievement.

Just for a few short months. 3 months.

With a deep sigh and small grunt, she did so as promised. In The Red Room, she was made to watch videos on culture, read books, take any notes and practice her knowledge on what she already knows. Not just that, Jennifer was brought in to take up a couple of activities such as dance, carefully handle weaponry, learning basic combat and drive a vehicle, if she ever needs to hot-wire and getaway.

Jennifer wouldn’t admit it but a small part of her enjoyed watching the women in those rooms all move in one single motion like trained dancers, ready to performance for a show on stage, and she was in the front row getting a glimpse of the sight.

She looked over her shoulder as a tall shadow took behind her, she gulped assuming it was one of the teachers ready to shout in her face for sneaking out of her bedroom this late in the afternoon, but instead it was her older sister.

“What?” She grunted out, spinning to face the taller blonde.

The tall blonde held a slinging smirk, “Nothing. Like what you see?”

“You’re new high ponytail or the performance?”

“Both, Fefe.”

“Don’t fall me that. What do you want?”

“Just want to know if my baby sister is enjoying it here?”

“You mean having my wrist cuffed to the bed, being held in a isolated room twice a week with no windows and a locked door? Oh yeah, I love it.” She repiled with a sarcastic tone.

Dottie grinned, “And having me here as a upper classmen.”

“Yeah…that. When are you gonna realize you’re just as insane to enjoy this, Dot? You love it here and actually find it trilling. I don’t.”

“Oh, Fefe, when are you gonna realize that with this opportunity you can be just like me? With grace and perfection.”

“That’s my point. I am not like you and I will never be like you. And when my time is up, I won’t be seeing you ever again.”

And Jennifer was right.

She was out of the building soon enough, in hopes to keep her head down and never have to be stuck in a place like that again. But Dottie did warn her as a hard heavy threat, one day, they will try and offer you a deal, snatched her up and order her to work for them.

Jennifer grunted and hoped with her luck, she wouldn’t. However, as lucky as she was with never being dragged there again, she did have Dottie reappear later on her life once or twice just for add measure…

—————————————

📰~The 1940s~ 💡

Plenty years past since those 3 sleepless months within that building and Jen couldn’t be more pleased with herself to be blessed to see a new path her way.

She was living in New York City, Queens as a waitress and painting on the side. She enjoyed painting the city skyline, the people in the park and her favorite flowers whenever possible. She was what many called her, a cartoonist. And her job wasn’t so bad either, yes the clients can be rude and annoying at times, but she made it work.

And her uniform was her biggest perk of her job. The simple teal-blue dress, her white headband, brown flats and her cute pins over her apron.

It was good, also with the fact she clocked out early to visit the fair, as everyone was there to see all the new attractions, men getting tested to see if they’re qualified for the war, people going dancing and much more. One evening, she found herself reading the newspaper wondering the fair, enjoying the sights, getting a drink and eventually standing in the crowd to see the main attraction.

Howard Stark. The Expo.

Little did she know that the man on that stage would change her life, by becoming apart of it.

She laughed, awed and smiled during the show. Even catching glimpses of his young sibling on stage, who eventually joined him.

She looked over her shoulder noticing a ‘help wanted’ signed stamped over a couple of posters, removing one of the tickets and followed to the small building to see what can could apply for. It seemed with the war going on, they need volunteers to help nurse the men on the field and inside buildings. Jennifer thought for a moment, onto her decision but then realized that it was worth it to help the good wanting to men serve their country.

Two weeks laters, she was working as a volunteered nurse. She got tested, signed off and given new uniform to wear. When a certain doctor asked for her name, it seemed like he missed heard it, as he wrote down a different name under her paperwork.

Instead of Jennie Underwood, he put down ‘Jeanie Wood’.

Jen didn’t know if it was on purpose it or not, but it taken her by a surprise at the name. The last person to give her a similar name like that was her 5th grade English teacher, yet she wasn’t complaining. She liked it, a lot.

And if she had to admit, she enjoyed it more than she expected, making friends with the other nurses, checking on the vitals of men and women, along with cleaning their wounds. It’s also when she met Miss Margaret “Peggy” Carter, who came in to recruit some nurses for an experimental program to help out the war, as she was handpicked to do so.

To say, Peggy Carter wowed Jen was an understatement. The women was kind, fierce, charming, witty, a little sassy, had a stronghold on her role here and cared for others. It surprised her how Peggy took a liking to her during those days spent on the job.

That same week, she met Howard Stark as he was preparing for the super solider experiment that she was apart of. The moment Howard met her, he was dazzled, in awe and flirting with the blonde. That was the first time Jennie ever actually blushed and smiled, turning her face to hide her blush from Howard’s darling compliments and witty comments.

Howard simply smiled at her blushing and went off to finish preparing his equipment for the day, before offering to buy her lunch. His tongue accidentally slipped nicknaming her ‘JJ’ for short. Jennie hesitated as she removed her gloves after preparing the equipment and serum with the other nurses needed for tomorrow. One of the nurses nudged her to say ‘yes’ as Jennie just smiled and nodded, following the brunette out the door.

The following day, she met Steve Rogers, as she was there helping to performance the processor and watching the man transform from a skinny kid to a tall solider. But the cheers and awes were cut short as Dr. Erskine died, causing Jennie to remove a gun off the table aiming at the person who fired the shot, but missed by a close second as the man ran out the door. Before she can get a second to blink, Steve and Peggy raced out the door to follow him. Jennie stayed behind to help, get Dr. Erskine to a more comfort position and calm down the crowd.

After that whole event, things were put back into swings as the war went on, Steve became Captain America serving his country, Peggy was brought to help, along with Howard and Jennie to do their part in serving for the better of their playing field.

Once again, she was given a slight change of clothing instead of white, it was light browns and a dark brown jacket to watch.

Jennie was put to work, not as a volunteered nurse, but a someone who helped with the design and coordinates for any trips. She put her skills to some use, which made her smile. Soon enough, the war ended per say in some victorious cheers and others in sorrows for the ones they lost.

When Steve Rogers went down in the plane, after speaking to Peggy on the radio as their side of the speakers cut to static, Jen was the first to enter the room and pull the English brunette into an tight embrace.

———————

💭 ~Meetings and revisiting the past~📑

Once the war ended, Peggy and Jen stayed friends, keeping Howard in touch of course. As both were brought to working in New York City at The SSR (which would later on become SHIELD), Peggy worked at an assigned sectary despite her endless response to her being able to do more. Daniel Sousa saw more in her, which made the women smile at the thought and respect she got from him.

Meanwhile Jen didn’t mind it being the coffee girl/assistant at the SSR, basically a sectary with a nicer name. It gave her a flexible schedule most days, other days she was spent working later hours at her desk.

Thankfully she had Agent Jack Thompson to keep her company, despite his personality, the man saw Jennie as a little sister whenever she entered the building. As if he wanted to shield her from harm and have her stand back from the tough stuff, even through she reminds him that she seen men come back from the war wounded or worse.

Jack would sometimes buy her burger if they knew everyone was gonna be working a late night. He would often bicker with her and Peggy as the English women rolled her eyes, but Jen would respond by saying that it seems like Thompson has a crush on Carter. Which results in Peggy chuckling at the blonde women.

Things were going fine until Howard Stark was wanted for crimes against the country, recruiting for Peggy to help find the truth and prove him innocent. She even entrusted his butler Edwin Jarvis to asset her with the investigation.

In which Jennie met while she was getting herself coffee one morning at the diner where she used to work as a waitress, ordering Mr. Jarvis a coffee.

Mr. Jarvis smiled and thanked for, offering to pay for her donut as an exchange. They soon became friends after that. Little did Jarvis know that Jennifer would become good friends with his lovely wife, Ana, too.

Jennifer didn’t want any to be thrown too far into the mix of things, as she eventually joined to the two Brits on their investigation.

Especially after the plot thicken, she started to be thrown in for a loop as The SSR all visited Russia and reunited with The Howling Commandos, finding themselves in a building that once held many men and women who were spies.

The beds with handcuffs, weird therapists, scientists and much more on that visit to Russia. At one point, Jen froze as she stayed rubbing her wrist at the sight, as it took A Howling Commando to drag her out of the rooms. Hell, some of their own agents froze at the sights, meanwhile others stayed strong during the fight.

On the plane ride home, Jen started to let Peggy in on why she froze, but not everything, as Peggy held the blonde close. Jen was given flashbacks to those 3 months in Mother Russia, the trips she went on and how during the war she remembered the men she had to nurse coming home lost to confused.

But the biggest punch to the grunt was when she saw her older sister on the streets of NYC, under some false name living at The Griffith Hotel for Women, pretending to be some new lady here and wanting to go sightseeing. It made her sick, especially since Dottie got closer to Peggy and watched her baby sister from afar, with sneaky eyes to see her next move.

That’s when everything made sense to Jen.

Dottie was here undercover working for someone who was framing Howard Stark and having everyone turn against the man. Peggy didn’t fully believe Jennie at first when she came in with her claims, Jack Thompson nor Daniel Sousa did either, but soon enough the truth came into full force.

As one could imagine things took a turn for people at The SRR, as they close in on Howard Stark, the true enemies are revealed and much more to everyone involved. As they planned to draw out the real threat, The Leviathan.

But it goes awry when Dottie Underwood distract the agents while Stark is kidnapped, as her boss uses hypnosis to make Howard drop as gasp he invented called “Midnight Oil” to onto Time Square.

Thankfully with Jarvis’s help, they all found them just in time. Jack Thompson and Daniel Sousa handled The Leviathan, who’s name was Johann Fennhoff. Meanwhile Jennie, Jarvis and Peggy handled Dottie, while also trying to convince Howard to not drop the gas over Time Square.

To say Dottie was excited to see her sister again in full swing and having a thrilling fight with Peggy was an understatement.

However this time, Jennie wasn’t too frightened to fight her sister again, as she found strategy and strength in herself to be more confident. It was a bigger perk, that this time around, she had Peggy who was more than intrigued to battle Dottie after their last encounter.

In the end, things were brought to light, they defeated Dottie (who escaped), the right people were imprisoned with scheming with Zola and everyone was given a chance to breath once again.

But like always, life for Jen didn’t stop there as she moved to Los Angeles for her next adventure…

————————

🦅~The 50s—60s~ 🕰️

In 1956, things were looking swell for Jennie as she was working for SHIELD in Los Angeles as an agent. She had her own office, meetings scheduled, kept designing models, going out to dinners and the occasional trip for sizable missions.

She discovered she had a little love for the unknown, collecting items, designing, doing presentations and going on trips to report new things back to SHIELD headquarters.

She was the one to design the SHIELD logo and style of the front over the years after all. Her and Howard liked with idea of an eagle with spread wings.

-> Eagles with its keen eyes symbolized courage, healing, hope, vision, resilience and most importantly strength.

However one late spring night, everything flipped on it’s head for Jennie. It was one of their agent’s bridal shower and she was invited to join in the celebration, free drinks and food, of course she was coming.

Yet, she was soon about to regret that trip.

She was driving home in one of SHIELD’s invented cars, that was had a working mentor that connected to the battery phone. She was on the phone was Jarvis’ wife, Ana, talking about how wonderful her weekend was, crossing a simple long bridge, when a light shower of rain started to fall from above. It wasn’t anything unusual, the weather did call for a light shower that weekend, but what took her by surprise is the springing dose of snowflakes.

“Uh, Ana, I’ll have to call you back…” She said, hanging up the phone and hanging it back where it belong.

It was simply magical to such a sight, however it went from beauty to a beast wanting the snowflakes became a slamming balls of hail hitting the car as she started to carefully hurry along the bridge. However the road soon became dangerous, causing her to swirl off the path and hitting the railing as her car went flying and smash into the water.

The faint sounds of the phone could be heard, ringing with a voice on the other end as the car drowned into the large body of water. In the car, Jennifer was silent with bruises and cuts all over her body, her forehead held a large cut that was covered by blood.

Her breathing stopped as her heartbeat slowed down in seconds, her core body temperature dropped greatly. At that very moment her heart stopped beating.

At 8:55pm, a blot of lighten struck the car. The volts of electricity impact was more than strong enough to reset the heart into a clear rhythm. Jeanie Woods—Jennie Underwoods body slowly lifted from the lower end of the car to regain its awareness. Her head rushed to the surface, jolting out of her anoxic state, causing her to draw her first breath in 4 minutes.

Cough and breathing heavy, Jennie regain memory of recent events, using all her skilled strength within her to carefully climb out of the car, knocking the side door open capturing the cool air that surrounding her.

She breathed heavily, spreading outside of the side door and swimming forwards to the surface, finding a pot of greenery in the cold depths of the night. Once she climbing onto the grass, rolling over as she let her back hit the grass such a reliving impact. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened it once again to watch the snowy sky fall onto her cool skin.

Well, she was screwed.

Thankfully she crawled onto her feet and found the nearest gas station, entering a phone booth to call Jarvis to pick her up. And being the good friend he was, the man arrived with a blanket as well, bringing to his house to stay the night. She explained to Jarvis the accident, planning on trying to recall everything she could remember to have it on record of that night and how the car was totaled in the process, but the man didn’t care as long as she was safe and sound.

As the years went, she credited her appearance to a healthy diet, often exercising, skin care, good genes and just plain luck. However actions was required only months laters when she was pulled over for a minor traffic infraction.

“Ma’am, it says here that you were born in 1923.” Said the officer.

“That’s right, officer.” She repiled with a kind smile.

“That would make you 40?”

“Yes. I look young for my age.”

“Ma’am I might have to hold onto this.”

The two talked by the man didn’t look so convinced, asking to come by the station tomorrow if possible and to bring her birth certificate.

That’s when she knew she needed to start packing, calling up family and making a few adjustments to her life. That’s when she moved back to New York City for a while, keeping her job within SHIELD, but taking up studies for medicine to research her condition, talks with other scientists.

But they all slowly came to the conclusion that it seems like there was no results for her condition, despite the records, recalling of events and etc.

It happened again where officers would stop the women and question her appearance, age and name. Even tried to take her into the station, as she would always do what she must to get out of it, even call up a friend for witness.

Packing up once again, making a couple of whole calls and planes to drive off somewhere off the grid of neither New York or LA, she found herself in San Diego instead. Making sure that Peggy, Howard, Jarvis and their friends know what to do, if anyone contract them, remove any records and to do something about the officers who taken her originally.

In result, Jennie Woods went on to change her name, keep her files close to her chest, residence and appearance the best she could every decade. And to never speak a true word of her fate to answer living soul (unless they were family of course).

To her relief, as the years went on things calmed down and she was less frequently questioned, however she would get wondering eyes at work.

——————

——————————————————————

🐤~Auntie JJ~ 🪿

-> May 29th, 1970 her nephew Anthony Edward Stark was born.

The day she held that tiny will soul in her arms, she knew she would love him til her dying days. She would take care of him, spoil the boy, and make sure he knew he was loved, even if she wasn’t there everyday to see him.

And that she did.

In the 70s, Maria and Howard knew they would need a pair of helping hands, aside from Jarvis, as they offered for the women to live with them. And of course, she said yes.

Jennie was there every step of the way and she loved it. Watching Tony grow up, taking his first step, first words, teaching him to read and write. Hell, when he was old enough, Tony would draw her so many drawings that she hang up in her office showcasing her godson’s work.

There were plenty of days and nights where neither of his parents were around as work and events took up their time, so in result if she was free, Jennie would do it.

“..’So after Lisa sewed on the missing button, she gave Corduory a big hug.’ The End. Now it’s time for my little bear to go to sleep.” She said closing the book with a smile.

Usually the 7 year old would give her a sleepy remark but after the long day he had, he decided against it. He rolled onto his side getting comfy.

“Auntie JJ?” He yawned in his small voice.

“Yes baby?” She asked standing up and putting the book back on his bookshelf.

“Would you always love me like Lisa love Corduroy?”

Jennie paused what she was doing as a small smile appeared on her lip at the question, she turned out and kneeled over the bed, placing a hand above Tony’s small cheek. Her warm touch smooth his worries.

“Of course I will, bubba” She replied and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

He smiled in returned, “Can we have pancakes tomorrow?”

“We will have to see. But first night night.”

“Night night.”

She gave him one more smile watching as his eyes closed, pulling his blanket closer. When she knew it was clear to leave, she gently closed the door behind her and escaped to the living room to watch a rerun of The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

Midway through the episode, she paused the taping and through back onto what Tony asked her earlier. She looked down at her lap, playing with the throw pillow in hand and sighed deeply. She knew why he asked that question, with his parents getting busier as the day goes by, especially at such a young age, it makes sense Tony would wonder if the adults in his life still love him.

And she meant what she said earlier, this unconditional love she has for her nephew is true. She adores that tiny little troublemaker, even if she sometimes drives him nuts, it’s one of the reasons she cares for him. He’ll keep on learning , as time slips through her fingers watching him grow up.

She knew she will be always try to be there for him, even if she’s in a different city, she’s only one call away.

And she was right.

Tony’s auntie JJ is there for him every time she can be. The smallest moments and his biggest. His graduations, his first true inventions, taking him out for ice cream, reading him bedtime stories, making him bacon on his birthday, the two of them sneaking off to watch movies late at time and the list goes on.

Hell, if she’s in the same room and near by, JJ is there to poke and pinch Tony when he says something he isn’t supposed to. Which results in him yelling a small, “Ow!” As she’ll give a smile in return or a certain look to tell him to quit it.

There are moments that his aunt JJ would have a date pick him and Tony would try to question his intentions with his aunt. Little did she know her godchild Rei would be the same way in the future. Every single one of her dates biggest haters.

———————

—Likes:

Mysteries, romance and detective novels

Waking up late

Coffee (of course!)

Classic movies from the golden era & sitcoms

Vintage fashion and style

Baking

Jewelry

Design

Painting & Drawing

Donuts

The sun setting

—Dislikes:

Narrow-mindedness

Cold coffee

Being underestimated or misjudged

Chaos in the house

Being underdressed or overdressed for an event

Sitting still for too long

Big Crowds

Closed spaces

Horror movies (however she enjoyed CW’s Supernatural)

Hiking

Fast rides

—Languages:

- Fluent in Spanish and English.

- Russian and Italian

- And some French

——————-

—Additional information:

- Jennie has a couple of scars, some small and some are a little big

- She tends to wear reading glasses or sunglasses at a lot

- You can sometimes find her on the couch wearing her earbuds listening to her favorite songs or binge watching a series on her IPAD

- As said before she likes jewlery, so in result you can find her wearing rings, earrings and sometimes necklaces. Such as her charm bracelet she got as a gift back in the 80s from a old friend

- She has traveled a lot over the years, sometimes she been a place more than once or even lived there. As well, as she met a couple of likely faces too

- Due to trying to keep up her energy and stamina levels, when it came to changing her appearance Jennie always tried to have a little fun. Such as dying her hair different a color, giving herself a new haircut, buying statement pieces that seemed timeless and testing out makeup to make her blend in with the crowd

- When it comes to makeup, she tries to keep it rather simple (she used to wear a lot of over the years but it resulted in some acne)

- When she’s under stress or filled in anxiety while in public spaces, she tends to play with her nails, add pressure to her inner palm, rubbing her wrist, wipes her sweaty palms on her jeans and etc

~~~~

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—That’s all folks! I wanted to add more detail about her but then it would’ve been wayyyy too long of a ride 😅

Anyways pls let me know what you think! Remember to like, comment and share

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @cherrysft @xgoddessoffandomsx @rickb-chaos @starkleila @infinetlyforgotten @meiramel @sherloquestea @parisparker269 @djs8891 @buckysteveloki-me @yetanotherwells @nakiaswg @carellmcu @ximehs

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kaythefloppa · 9 months ago

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The definition of original experience is growing up thinking that Area 51 had musical Ninjas, secret agents, fossilized replicas of actual dinosaurs, and goddamn time machines...

all because of a Wild Kratts fanfiction

#wild kratts #pbs kids #kratt brothers #martin kratt #chris kratt #pbs kids go #That was my first introduction to Area 51 and man it goes to show #That fanfiction was also unhinged but super fucking rad #the Ninja was Aviva's bf #Jimmy had a Creature Power Suit #There were a whole new array of villains including a Mystery Man left on a cliffhanger #fucking Dinosaurs #and ZOOBOOMAFO HIMSELF APPREARING #It was a canon event #10/10 fan-work no cap

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clewis · 1 year ago

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Chapter 1 — Cleo

Title: The Ocean's Call Relationship: Cleo/Lewis Chapters: 1/? Summary: It’s never been easy for Cleo to find balance between being a mermaid and a normal girl; still, when she ran away into the ocean, she wasn’t planning on disappearing forever. But as the burden of everything that was going wrong in her life weighed on her, she finally decided to answer the ocean’s call, leaving everything behind: her problems, her family, her friends, the boy she was still painfully in love with… her whole life. But could there be something more behind her decision? And how will the people she left behind deal with the pain and guilt they will inevitably have to face? Friendships will be put to the test as Lewis, Emma, and Rikki's lives shatter before their eyes. They will do anything to find Cleo and bring her back, but will they be able to find a lost mermaid in the vastness of the ocean?

Here's the first chapter of my canon-divergence fic taking place during the events of 2x25 "Sea Change"! Hope you enjoy 💙

#h2o just add water #h2o fanfiction #clewis #h2o #my writing #so uuuhhh... as you can tell i'm not very good at writing synopsis or choosing titles 😂#but i was getting really tired of typing and retyping the thing so i just published it as it was and be done with it 🤣#first chapter is kinda short and an introduction to the story #still i'd love to know what you h2oes think 💜#should be able to update pretty quickly cause the next chapter - lewis pov - is already done! just need to proofread it a bit!#also i feel like there were many more details to include in the tags and stuff but i'm too tired rn fsdgfsdfgsd

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moruteheart · 7 months ago

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𓉸ྀི — 𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 | 𝐧𝐛 | 🇮🇳 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ hey there, friend, welcome ^^! i will mostly do x reader and ship fanfiction (fluff, angst, comfort, that kinda stuff) on this blog, so if that kind of stuff interests you, please stay tuned ˶ᵔ ᴗ ᵔ˶ !

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

(P.S: Masterlist is out now!)

#this is my first time making a blog so have mercy on me #fanfic #fanfiction #introduction #morute #first time using tumblr #x reader #wlw #mlm

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walterdecourceys · 1 year ago

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top 2 musicals i irrationally hate. number one wicked number two tick tick boom

#my feelings on tick tick boom are extremely unjustified considering i haven't seen it #it just gained a lot of fans who aren't really musical fans who were really weird about it. also a lot of fans who hate rent? which is odd #considering it's. about the guy who wrote rent #i'm being kind of mean to wicked too it's not terrible it just annoys me...#it was one of my first introductions to fanfiction actually fun fact. that's unrelated i just remembered it #.txt

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lokisrealpurpous · 1 year ago

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gentil-minou · 1 year ago

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I’m loving your fic so far! I can’t wait to see wwx and jc interact

Ahhh I'm so excited you like it! This next chapter is gonna be a really fun one cause I'm actually introducing a bunch of characters and it's more than I've ever done before.

Since your ask was so nice, here's a sneak peak for chapter 3 of once upon a time, 很久很久以前

“So, what now, sheriff?” He’s always wanted to call someone that. Maybe he should practice his old western accent to really sell it. The sheriff finished writing and seems to deem it acceptable enough, though it’s hard to tell with the way he’s still scowling at it. “What do you mean, what now?” “I mean what do I do now. I was trying to get out of here, but obviously, now I can’t.” He gestures to his little red bug. “And look at my poor Little Apple, what about her?” he whines morosely, gazing longingly at his baby death trap. Sheriff Jiang sets his glare to his precious bug, scowling like it bit him. “Little Apple? What, you mean your car? Who names their car Little Apple of all things?” Wei Wuxian sputters with offense. “Hey! It’s not weird, she’s red! Like an apple! And a little car! It’s clever, what you think you could better?” He pokes a finger at the sheriff’s chest, annoyed on poor Little Apple’s behalf. If she were alive he knows she’d bite him, real bad.

“Of course! I’d name it something cool, like Speed Machine or Roadster.” The sheriff puffs up with pride, as if he’d said something profound and deep and not the lamest things Wei Wuxian’s ever heard. Wei Wuxian sputters in shock, “Haaa? Speed Machine?! Roaster? Those are awful boring names!” “There’s nothing wrong with that name!” the sheriff snaps, all but shouting. He breathes in deeply through his nose, like a raging bull.

#i still have quite a bit of editing to do with this chapter since i wasn't letting myself do any writing while i was sick #but im really like it so far!#even though im a little terrified with all the character introductions #mdzs #mdzs fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #yunmeng siblings #bushy writing #mdzs ouat au #ahhh this is my first ask for this au i might cry shhh #i've been really struggling with this fandom these last few weeks ngl i keep regretting everything thinking my work is not worth it at all #so it's nice to see people are interested and excited!!! and even better to hear from them thank you <3 #asked and answered #Anonymous

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indycinders · 2 years ago

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Heart o' the Sea :: ch. 1

A Stardew Valley fanfic, by me (❁´◡`❁)

Right now there's no TW but there might be later on. Basically, it's a fluffy, angsty fic about my farmer OC Cyprian and Willy in a very platonic, more familial role. Here's the first chapter.

edit: brief edit of the title cause I liked this way better lols

In the beginning, there was only a crap ton of work to be done on Shadow Veil Farm. Cyprian had stood for at least five minutes surveying his inheritance and feeling like he wanted to turn tail and run. But he didn’t. Instead, he pulled up his clean britches, tapped the toe of his boots on the ground, and got to work.

He spent all day chopping wood, breaking rocks, and clearing a path north to south, and to the east toward town. Feeling sluggish, his muscles protesting and screaming their tiredness, he trudged his way to the Stardrop Saloon. His stomach grumbled in appreciation on the way.

When he stepped in, music swirled around him in a lazy but comfortable tune. There were several people there, not many, but enough for Cyprian not to consider the saloon empty. He walked up to the bar with his knees almost knocking together from the utter exhaustion.

“H-hello,” he said quietly.

The bartender, a portly fellow with an impressive mustache and a friendly smile, grinned at him. “The new farmer, eh? What’s your name?”

“C-Cy–” He coughed and cleared his throat, feeling his face flush. “Sorry, I’m a little parched.”

“No worries, we can remedy that.”

“My name’s Cyprian Dugall.” He finally managed to sputter out.

“Nice to meet you, boy!” The older man jovially chuckled, sticking out a bear paw of a hand. “I’m Gus, owner and chef here at the Stardrop. Now, what can I get you started on?”

Cyprian reached out and shook the man’s hand, internally cringing at the way his palms still burned from the wooden handles of his beginner tool set. A brief thought entered his mind, Probably should have invested in some gloves or something, but it left shortly thereafter.

“Hey, Gus,” a new voice beside Cyprian greeted the barkeep, “can I get a glass of red tonight?”

“Right on it, doc, let me just help this young’un.” Gus turned back to Cyprian, waiting patiently.

“Oh–uh, well,” he winced. “Could I get what he’s having?”

Cyprian wasn’t very knowledgeable with alcohol in general, but he did enjoy wine after work when he lived in the city. He could do with a familiar comfort after such a long day. Gus nodded once and went to grab a bottle.

“You must be the new farmer, right?” The voice from before spoke to him directly this time.

Cyprian turned to see another older man, though not quite as old as Gus. He also had an impressive mustache, Cyprian noted, amused. He also had glasses and round eyes that were kind. Something in the young man’s chest fluttered. “Hm? O-oh, yes. Cyprian.”

“I’m Harvey. I’m the town doctor. I run that clinic up by Pierre’s store. I don’t know if you’ve been there yet?”

Cyprian shook his head. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been… working, I guess?” He chuckled tiredly, “It’s a little overwhelming, if I’m being honest.”

Harvey gestured to the seat next to him, and Cyprian nodded. Harvey sat in the seat before responding, “What did you do before you moved here?”

“I worked in an office. Customer service.”

The doctor nodded, thoughtfully scratching his chin. “Would you say you had an active life or was it more sedentary?”

Cyprian’s face heated up involuntarily. “W-well, no, I wasn’t very active. I mostly just went from home to work.”

Harvey nodded again, smiling. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. However, I would like to recommend stretching before starting your day. It would help with the pain and soreness after a hard day’s work.”

The young man inclined his head. “R-right,”

“Alright, fellas, here’s your reds.” Gus had come back and set down two wine glasses in front of the other men, gracefully pouring some wine in each glass with a flourish of the bottle at the end. “Enjoy. And Cyprian, it’s on the house tonight, okay?”

“Thanks, Gus.”

“Sure thing.”

Cyprian reached for his wine glass and Harvey spoke up before he took a drink. “Sorry about that, it’s hard for me to ‘take off the coat’, so to speak.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just don’t want our new farmer to end up in my clinic sooner than he should.”

The young man smiled appreciatively. “No worries, doctor. Thank you for the advice.”

“Well, should we toast, then?” Harvey grabbed his glass as Cyprian nodded shyly. “Welcome to Pelican Town, Cyprian.”

The glasses clinked together gently and both men tipped them towards their lips, taking their first drink of the night. Cyprian set his glass down again, looking at his hands. They were almost raw and they were definitely red and sore. Harvey noticed, too.

“Do you need something for that?”

Cyprian flinched. Of course nothing would escape him, he’s the only doctor for an entire town! “Um, yeah, I probably should get something, huh?” His laugh was stilted and awkward.

“It’s nothing to feel bad about,” Harvey said in a comforting tone. “Farm work is hard work, and that’s putting it lightly.”

“Tell me about it,” the young man mumbled.

“I’ll leave something for you in your mailbox tomorrow morning. Put it on like lotion, and you’ll be good as new.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

Harvey’s face turned a little red and he lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, “Ah, just call me Harvey.”

“O-okay, Harvey.” That fluttering feeling came back and his heart beat a little faster. “S-say,” Cyprian said suddenly. “I heard there was a fisherman around here, but I haven’t seen him.”

“Oh, Willy?” Harvey took another sip of his wine. “He’s not here tonight, but he should be returning in a few days.”

“Where’s he gone?”

“He took a fishing trip down south. Said something about a stingray migration?”

Cyprian’s eyebrows lifted up in interest. “Really?”

Harvey blushed again, “I don’t know much about fishing, so you’ll have to ask him about it when he returns.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the night was spent with Cyprian and Harvey chatting for another hour or so before they went their separate ways. Despite the toughness of the day, he felt like he was walking a little lighter on his feet as he made his way back to the cabin.

—♡♡♡—

The next morning, right before the sun fully rose over the horizon, Cyprian was waking up. His arm, back, and leg muscles ached something dreadful as he rolled out of bed. He dressed quickly and snacked on some protein bars, watching the weather channel. Clear skies for the next day or so at least.

He walked out and breathed in the morning air. It was misty, the air quickly warming up and evaporating the morning dew that lingered on the grass. The smell of earth and grass filled his senses and he smiled to himself.

Then he noticed the little red flag sticking up on his mailbox. Curious, he went over and checked inside. There was a tube of ointment with a letter attached, along with another standalone letter. Underneath all of this was a pair of thick leather working gloves.

He sat on his steps to read the letters, placing the tube and gloves down. He opened Harvey’s letter first.

Dear Cyprian,

I almost gave Pierre a heart attack this morning banging on his door because I needed to purchase some ingredients for this ointment. I also found a pair of gloves that might help you as well. Don’t worry about paying me back, though! Consider it a prescription if you must.

Good luck today.

Kindest regards,

Harvey

The writing was smudged and looked like it had been erased several times before the doctor had settled on what to say. Cyprian smiled; it was adorable and brought back that lovely flutter-feeling that warmed his chest.

He opened the second letter.

Hello new Farmer,

Just got back from a fishing trip.

Come down to the beach sometime, I’ve got somethin’ for ya.

Willy

Short and sweet and to the point. The handwriting was as confident as the letter itself. Cyprian hummed his appreciation and tucked both letters away in his bag that he’d taken to carrying around. He rubbed on the ointment Harvey had given him before slipping on the gloves and reached for his hoe.

Another hard day of work waited for him.

—♡♡♡—

Some odd hours later, Cyprian was hurrying along down to the beach, hoping he wasn’t too late. The day had gotten away from him, what with planting and watering and fixing up a fence. He just fixated too much.

He speed-walked across the bridge and down the beach toward the dock in the distance. He could see a lone figure at one end, by the light pole as he approached. His footsteps echoed quite loudly, making him feel flustered.

“H-hi,” he called out. “I got your letter this morning, er, Willy?”

Willy turned to look at him. He was a grizzled old man, with fine lines crinkling around his eyes and mouth, and hair that used to be brown now looked gray with age. In his mouth was an old battered pipe, smoke curling gently from the cup at the end of it.

“Ahoy there, son. Heard there was gonna be a newcomer in town…. Glad to finally meet ya’.” Willy’s voice was deep and rumbly, crackly from either age or his pipe-smoking.

“It’s nice to meet you too, sir.” Cyprian gave the older gentleman a timid smile.

Willy chuckled, a tone that rumbled from his chest. “Ah, don’ worry about all that. Jus’ call me Willy, lad.”

The fisherman took a few puffs of his pipe before tapping it out against his worn muck boots and putting it away in one of his vest pockets once it was empty. “Ah, I’m still trying to unwind from a month out on the salty seas…. It was a big haul! I sold a lot of good fish.” He smiled when he said this and Cyprian relaxed at the sight of it. Despite his initial appearance, it seemed Willy was a very friendly old man.

“I heard,” Cyprian replied. “Stingray migration?”

“Oh? You interested in all that?” Willy peered at him intensely, causing Cyprian to glance toward the water.

“Y-yeah, actually. Fishing was a big part of why I came out here.”

“That’s good to hear, that is!” Willy let out another hearty chuckle. “Y’see, it’s important to me to keep the art o’ fishin’ alive. So I beckoned ye’ out here for this–”

The old fisherman walked over to the bench nearby and lifted up a well-used fishing rod. “--my ol’ fishing rod. She’s not much of a beaut anymore, but I reckon she’ll serve ye’ jus’ fine and dandy.”

Cyprian’s eyebrows raised as far as he could manage. “Y-you’re giving me the fishing rod? Just like that?”

“O’course, son. No one roun’ here needs it, and I just bought me self a new one from all the luck I had down south!” Willy grinned. “Take it, boy. Maybe once in a while, ye’ll stop by my shop sometime, eh?”

“Y-yes, of course!” Cyprian reached for the rod, holding it gingerly in his hands. He turned it this way and that, looking at all of it. Definitely worn with some scratches here and there, but it seemed sturdy enough.

A silence settled between both of them, which soon turned to Cyprian awkwardly fidgeting with the rod.

“Well, what’s keepin’ ya, lad?” Willy asked, his bushy ‘brows pinching together.

“It’s just… um.” Cyprian couldn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t… know h-how… to use… it.”

It was Willy’s turn to look shocked, but only for a second. Then he let out his loudest laugh yet, clapping one of his hands on the younger man’s shoulder. “Aw shucks, me boy! There ain’ nothin’ to it, really! Here, let me go get my new rod and I’ll show ye’ the basics, alrigh’?”

“S-sure, Willy,” Cyprian’s face couldn’t get any redder at that moment, nor could he possibly feel any less embarrassed. The old man shuffled off, still chuckling to himself. Cyprian sighed in a long-suffering manner, wiping his brow. This ought to be fun, he thought to himself. How little did he know at the time.

#stardew #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #fluff #angst #this first chapter's pretty mild #just introductions really #will have hints of a romance w/harvey and possibly other charas don't know yet #welcome to my new hyperfixation #i love willy so much //sobbing #sdv #sdv fanfic #sdv willy #sdv harvey #stardew willy #stardew harvey #fanfiction #cinders writes

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ro-is-struggling · 10 months ago

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omg this is such an honor🥺😭 I'm glad I did a good job with the fic!

Slow Hands || Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer gets tired of pretending he doesn't notice the way you look at his hands, so when you show up at his hotel room late at night he decides to ask you about it.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn without plot, hand kink, size kink kinda?, praise kink, Dom/sub dynamics (gentle dom Spencer x sub reader), dirty talk, pet names (good girl, baby, dirty little girl, slut), fingering, overstimulation, penetrative sex, choking, slight dacryphilia, a little fluff at the end, female reader, kinda rushed ending

English is not my first language

Word count: 6800

Notes: Spencer is a gentle dom and you can’t change my mind.

Also pictures aren't mine, I just put them together. I took them from this post (the one that inspired this fic) and also from this one so full credits to them!

"Why do you always stare at my hands?" The question escaped Spencer's lips before he could stop it. You had come to his hotel room to discuss something about the case you were working on and the whole time you had been staring at his hands.

It wasn't the first time you had done that, he had caught you staring at his hands in the past. It seemed that whatever he did with them you found interesting. He had never said anything to you because he honestly didn't know how to approach the subject without it sounding strange, but he was aware of what you were doing. The same way he knew you didn't admire anyone else's hands the same way you admired his, something that sparked a warmth inside him.

Spencer was pretty sure he knew why you looked at his hands so much, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"Oh," you mumbled in embarrassment, startled at being caught. "I don't know, I think they're pretty." You shrugged, looking everywhere but at Spencer. "I like hands."

"You like hands?" He repeated, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"I know it sounds weird but it's not! Some people notice someone's smile first or maybe their eyes or laugh, I tend to notice people's hands." It was a half-truth. Yes, you used to pay more attention to people's hands than most, but that wasn't the real reason for your inability to take your eyes off his hands. But since you couldn't admit that you dreamed every night of feeling the touch of his long, slender fingers on your skin, you thought that explanation would satisfy his curiosity and save you from the humiliation of the truth.

"Why do you like my hands so much?" Spencer insisted and you struggled to stop your mind before it got lost in the endless fantasies involving his hands that haunted you at night when you were alone in your bed.

"I don't know. They're pretty, I guess." You tried to downplay it, hoping that would be enough to ease his curiosity.

"Pretty how?" Spencer asked you and when you looked up to meet his eyes you saw a dark glint in them. He was up to something, you could see it in the innocent little smile plastered on his lips. He was pushing you to give him an answer for a special reason that you didn't know, but you assumed it couldn't be anything good for you.

Your brain was screaming at you not to take the bait, that it was dangerous and stupid. The smartest thing to do would be to find an excuse to go back to your room, where you would be safe from Spencer and his tricks. But you had never been that smart. Curiosity got the better of you, so you ignored your brain and took the bait.

"Well, for starters, your hands are big." You spoke in the most casual tone possible, trying to hide your embarrassment and excitement as you took one of his hands between yours to compare sizes.

You rarely had the opportunity to hold Spencer's hand, so feeling the warmth of his palm against yours awakened a wave of electricity that coursed down your spine. You swallowed hard, struggling to control yourself as you admired the difference in size between your hands. Even though you had long nails you weren't able to shorten the difference in length between his fingers and yours, Spencer's still stood tall against yours, which barely touched the middle phalanx of his fingers. You thought it was impossible, but his hand seemed even larger when compared to yours.

"And that's a good thing?" His soft, low voice shook you awake from your trance, lifting your gaze to look at him for a moment before returning your focus to his hands.

"Yes, especially for a guy," you said, trying to act natural under his intense gaze. "But you also have beautiful fingers. They're long and slender... perfectly balanced with the size of your palm." Your fingers traced his as you spoke, delicately caressing the skin of his hand with your fingertips. You could feel his eyes on you, following your every move. If you kept quiet you could hear his deep breathing quicken a little more with each caress you gave him, just like your heartbeat.

Spencer knew what kind of ideas the size of his fingers sparked in your imagination and he would be lying if he said he didn't have the same fantasies from time to time. It was actually embarrassing how many times he had masturbated imagining having his fingers buried deep in the warmth of your core —you moaning his name and begging him for more while he used his expert fingers to make you feel pleasure in a way no other man had ever done.

"But I also like the veins in the back of your hand." Your voice brought him out of his thoughts just in time, a few more seconds lost in his fantasies and his pants were going to start feeling a little tight. "I like the way the veins mark on your skin." Your fingers traced the lines on the back of his hand, following the paths that led up his arm, where the rolled up sleeve of his shirt prevented you from continuing.

Your fingers lingered on his arm longer than necessary, taking the opportunity to memorize the texture of his skin, the warmth of his body and the way his closeness made you feel in case you never had the chance to touch him like that again. The room fell into complete silence as you shared an intimate moment, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of your slightly accelerated breathing. There was a tension in the air that you had never felt before being with Spencer, but you barely paid attention to it as you lost yourself in your fantasies, your mind finally surrendering to your wild imagination.

But then the sound of a speeding car coming through the window distracted you from your thoughts. You pulled your hands away from Spencer quickly as you realized what you had done, ashamed of yourself for losing control like that. However, when you looked up to meet his eyes you didn't notice anything strange about them. He didn't seem to be bothered or uncomfortable by your behavior. No. You just saw that sparkle again, shining in his hazel eyes with increasing clarity.

Spencer's gaze didn't leave you as he moved his hand closer to you. You remained frozen in place, holding your breath without even realizing it as you waited to see what he was scheming. His fingers took a lock of your hair that fell over your face, playing with it for a bit before he gently tucked it behind your ear. Your heart was beating faster and faster and your brain was working hard to decipher what Spencer was thinking. You enjoyed the attention you were getting from him, but your impatient nature needed to know where he was going with all this.

However, your brain was fried the moment Spencer's hand cupped your cheek. You even forgot how to breathe as you felt his long, slender fingers caress the skin of your face. You closed your eyes instinctively, leaning into his touch as you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. The warmth of his hand awakened a tingling sensation that spread all over your face following the path of his fingers, from your cheek bone, down to your jaw, across your chin and up to your lips. It was ridiculous how he could have you melting under his touch with the simplest of caresses. He had so much power over you... and you liked it.

You opened your eyes when you felt Spencer's thumb caress your lower lip. Your eyes met for a moment, feeling small under his intense gaze. He had never acted that way with you before, much less looked at you with the hunger reflected in his hazel orbs. And you liked it. You liked feeling small under his watchful eye. You liked feeling completely at his mercy. You liked knowing that he owned you even if he didn't realize it.

"I feel the same way about your lips," Spencer announced, staring at your mouth as his thumb continued his caresses, tracing the shape of your lips. "I love how soft they look, always tempting me to kiss them... especially when you stick your tongue out to wet them... or when you bite your lower lip when you're deep in thought. It takes all my willpower not to cross the room and kiss you right then and there."

Spencer's voice was soft and seductive, the slightly deeper than normal tone going straight to your core, which tightened around nothing, desperate for attention. There was nothing dirty in his words —he was just declaring how much he wanted to kiss you— and yet you could feel the wetness beginning to stain your underwear. There was something about his voice, the way he was talking to you and the softness of his touch on your lips that felt highly erotic. Spencer seemed to know exactly what to say and what to do to have you at his mercy. He had you in a trance, frozen in place as you eagerly awaited his next move. There wasn't a single thought in your head, just him and your desire to feel his hands all over your body.

"And don't even get me started on those lipsticks you wear," he continued, applying a little more pressure on your lips as he dragged his thumb across them, smearing lipstick on the corners of your lips. "This one is my favorite."

You parted your lips to try to breathe. You were starting to feel lightheaded, unable to move or speak under Spencer's intense stare. You wanted to, god knew there were a lot of things you wanted to say to him at that moment, but you couldn't do it. Your brain was fried, your body vibrating with anticipation. Part of you still couldn't believe what was happening, so you thought it would be best to keep your mouth shut. You would let him guide you, show you what he wanted from you. You'd be lying if you said that wasn't exactly what you wanted.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt Spencer's thumb push into your mouth. You closed your lips around the digit without even thinking about it, your tongue caressing his skin in an act of pure instinct. Your mind didn't process what was happening until you heard him moan softly.

"Good girl," he praised you and you couldn't help but moan over his finger, pure pleasure vibrating throughout your body. "I always suspected that behind that strong, combative attitude of yours was hiding a good, obedient girl... I didn't even have to tell you to suck, you already knew what to do."

A wave of pleasure ran through your body at his words, feeling proud to hear him call you a good girl. That's all you ever wanted to be, his good girl, and now that you finally had the chance to prove it to him you weren't going to waste it. You sucked on his finger harder to show him how much you loved his compliments, hollowing out your cheeks as your tongue played with his digit wishing it was his cock instead.

"I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea," Spencer sighed.

Oh but you did know. You knew exactly what he meant because you had wanted him for so long too. Every second you spent with him was torture, not only because you fantasized about feeling his hands on your body all the time, but also because you had to pretend you didn't in a room filled with skilled profilers.

But there was no more of that. You didn't have to worry anymore because his hands were finally on your body and it felt even better than you had imagined.

"Will you be my good girl tonight?" Spencer asked you, his voice barely a whisper as he moved closer to you.

You almost fainted when you felt his warm breath crash against your face, feeling even smaller under his gaze now that he was closer to you. When he removed his thumb from your mouth you had to bite your tongue to keep from letting out a whimper in protest.

"Answer me!" he demanded in a firm but soft tone that managed to snap your brain out of its trance.

"Yes," you rushed to say, maintaining eye contact with Spencer at all times. "I want to be your good girl, please."

You barely managed to get the words out before Spencer's lips crashed against yours in a kiss full of passion and desperation. You didn't even try to fight for dominance, surrendering to him without him having to ask. You let his lips guide yours, melting under the caresses of his tongue. His hands gripped each side of your face, using his hold to tilt your head so he could deepen the kiss.

It was all happening so fast you barely had time to process it, your poor brain working hard to keep up with the torturous rhythm of Spencer's lips. The kiss was much rougher than you would have imagined from someone like him. He always looked so sweet and innocent it was hard to believe he had such a dark side. But you loved every second of it. You loved knowing that he had chosen to share that side with you.

"Stand up," he ordered you as he pulled away from your lips. His kiss had left you a little stupid, so it took you a few seconds to process his words. But he didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, Spencer seemed proud of himself. He loved the effect he had on you as much as you did.

Spencer stood next to you, standing in front of you. You looked up into his eyes, patiently awaiting his next command. You lost yourself in the beautiful hazel color of his orbs for a moment, noticing a flash of his usual sweet, tender glow mixed in with all the desire and lust. That soothed the nerves that were beginning to form in your stomach from the anticipation, remembering that behind the darkness in his eyes was your Spencer, the one who always opened doors for you and brought you coffee without you asking him for it when you were stuck in the office late at night doing paperwork.

He took his time removing your clothes, his hands caressing and kissing every inch of skin he uncovered, showering you with compliments. He even knelt down in front of you to properly remove your shoes, pants and panties, taking the time to caress your calves and deposit a kiss on each of your thighs before rising back up. Spencer was tall, much taller than you. His figure towered over yours in an imposing way, but his soft and gentle touch helped you not to feel self-conscious in front of him, even when he was fully clothed and you were not. The gentleness with which he was treating you contrasted with the hardness of his kisses, but it was a change you gladly welcomed. Although it did make you wonder what he had planned for later.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer murmured against the skin of your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as his hands roamed your body. His fingers caressed your skin ever so gently, trailing up your arm all the way to your shoulder. He paused at your neck for a moment and a shiver ran down your spine as you imagined him closing his fingers over your throat, applying pressure until it was hard to breathe. But before you could put voice to your desires, his hand wandered down your back, fiddling with your bra before unclasping it.

"Spence, please." You begged in a whisper when you couldn't stand the anticipation any longer. As much as you enjoyed the attention of his hands on your body, you needed more. Much more. Your pussy was crying for attention, staining your underwear with your arousal.

Your broken voice went straight to Spencer's cock, your desperation was music to his ears, but he managed to keep his composure. He wanted to take his time with you. "What is it, baby? What do you want?" he asked in an almost condescending tone. He knew very well what you wanted, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“I want you,” you replied, not caring about how pathetic your voice sounded. You were desperate for some relief and were willing to do anything to get it. "I need you to touch me... to make me feel good."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He settled down on the bed again —his long legs stretched out on the comforter and his back resting against the bed frame— and gestured for you to sit on his lap. When you moved closer he turned you over, helping you to settle onto his body until you ended up sitting with your back against his chest. He used his legs to spread yours apart, opening them as wide as he could. You hated not being able to see his face easily, but the new position was exciting anyway. You could feel his hard cock twitching against your ass and had a privileged view of his hand as he slowly moved closer to where you needed it most.

"You're so wet already and I barely touched you," Spencer whispered against your ear, his breath brushing your skin as his fingers began to toy with your clit. "Is this all for me?"

"Y-yes,"you managed to mumble between ragged breaths, struggling to control the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. You were in a hotel room and the rest of your co-workers were sleeping in the rooms next to yours. The last thing you wanted was to be discovered.

"No, don't hold back. I want to hear you moan. I want to know how good I'm making you feel." Spencer was desperate to hear you moan his name, it was all he had ever wanted from the first moment he saw you. He dreamed of your whimpers of pleasure, but they never felt real enough. His mind could never recreate the beautiful melody of your voice to perfection. But he could remember it forever if he could hear you.

Spencer increased the speed of his fingers and you weren't able to contain the moan that escaped your lips, nor the many others that followed. But even if you could, you wouldn't have done it because he wanted to hear you and his wishes were your command. Your body belonged to him in its entirety, you were his to do with you as he wished.

"Good girl," he praised you, using his free hand to push your hair to the side so he could kiss and nibble on your neck. Each thing he did brought you a little closer to the edge. It was as if he had studied your body in preparation for this moment, as if he knew exactly what buttons to push to have you making a mess under his touch.

"Is this what you wanted?" Spencer growled against your ear, feeling his cock throbbing under the movements of your ass. Pure pleasure coursed through his veins as he listened to the whimpers escaping your lips. "Is this what you imagined every time you looked at my hands?"

"Yes! F-fuck, yes." Your voice came out in a broken moan, your brain fighting the haze of pleasure to form coherent sentences. Spencer was bringing you near climax in record time, you could feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. You didn't know how he was doing it, but you didn't want him to ever stop. "I thought about having your fingers deep inside me all this time and, f-fuck, and how good they would feel reaching places mime can't... yes! Just like that."

As if Spencer was using your fantasies as a guide, he slipped his middle and ring fingers inside you. Your velvety walls received them gladly, clasping around them to keep them there forever. Just as you had imagined, his long fingers felt wonderful, filling you in a way yours could not, and they reached that spongy place inside you in a matter of seconds making you see stars every time they caressed it.

"Oh god, Spence it feels so good... please" you murmured between moans and heaving breaths, gripping onto your lover's arm for support. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in pleasure. It all felt like too much and not enough at the same time. You were desperate to find that sweet relief, moving your hips against Spencer's hand to reach your climax.

"You're gonna cum for me like the good girl you are?" He spoke against your neck, biting into your skin and drawing a moan of pleasure from you. "You're gonna cum all over my fingers?"

"Yes! Yes, please, I wanna cum so bad," you begged him on the verge of tears and Spencer couldn't help but growl against your skin. Knowing that he was capable of making you cry out in pleasure with his fingers alone awakened something primal in him. The desperate sounds escaping your lips were the hottest thing he had ever heard and suddenly it became his mission to keep you crying with pleasure for as long as he possibly could.

Spencer increased the rhythm of his fingers and applied pressure to your clit with his palm so each time he moved his hand you would receive twice as much stimulation. "C'mon baby, cum for me," he encouraged you and his permission was all you needed to collapse into his arms.

Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body, which was squirming under Spencer's skilled hands that kept fucking you through your orgasm. Your lungs were screaming for air, but it was impossible for you to catch your breath. The world around you became a blur for a moment and the only thing your pleasure clouded brain was able to process was Spencer's voice praising you as his hands caressed your body.

"That's it... that's my good girl." You smiled, enjoying his compliments as you tried to catch your breath.

But then you felt the hand that was still in your pussy begin to move once more. They were slow thrusts of his fingers inside you, but it was still a lot for your abused cunt, too sensitive from the orgasm it had just had. Your hand clutched at his wrist to try to stop it, but as you opened your eyes and looked down you couldn't help but let out a moan. You were convinced that there was no more erotic sight than that of his veiny hand buried in your pussy, moving in and out of you, giving you a glimpse of his skin glistening with your arousal in the dim light of the room.

"One more," Spencer told you, tugging on your hair to force your head back so you could look at him. It was a little rough, but you loved it, the pain going straight to your center. "I want one more and then I'll fuck you."

"I can't... too much" you tried to say, but your body betrayed you. Your pussy was dripping with excitement, your walls clinging to Spencer's fingers with desperation. Your hips were moving to his rhythm, following his lead and not yours. Your body no longer responded to you, it no longer belonged to you. It now belonged to Spencer and if he wanted you to cum one more time then you would.

"You can, I know you can," he encouraged you in a soft voice that contrasted with the roughness of his movements. He kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with a desperation that took what little breath you still had, and you surrendered completely to him. You stopped fighting your body's urges, trusting that Spencer knew what was best for you. He always did.

"That's it, baby. Let go for me, c'mon. I want to feel you cum on my fingers one more time." His words went straight to your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It wasn't long before you started to feel like it was too much. Your legs shook uncontrollably with pleasure, but when you tried to close them Spencer didn't let you, using his to keep you wide open for him.

"'S too much… too much… can't" you mumbled incoherently as you felt the pleasure take over your whole body. Tears of utter pleasure streamed down your cheeks, each movement of your lover's hand bringing you closer to the edge you weren't sure you'd be able to cross.

"Shh you're okay, you're okay" he reassured you, showering his kisses all over your neck and shoulder as he used his free hand to hold you in place. "You can do it. C'mon, I got you."

You clung to Spencer's arm as you braced yourself for the explosion of pleasure that was coming, your nails digging little half moons into his porcelain skin. He held you in place as your body shook violently as your second orgasm hit you, enjoying the incoherent cries of pleasure escaping your lips as you soaked his fingers with your arousal. It was music to his ears, the sweetest melody he had ever heard.

"That's it, such a good girl for me." He praised you, but you were too lost to process his words. Your mind was completely lost in a fog of pure bliss, the world around you forgotten as your body twitched with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You could barely breathe and you couldn't remember your own name, but a smile formed on your face. Those had been the best orgasms of your life and you hadn't even had Spencer inside you yet.

"There you are!" you heard him say next to you. When you opened your eyes you discovered that at some point he had moved you, and now you were lying on the bed with him staring at you at your side. "Are you okay?"

His voice was soft as his fingers gently caressed your cheek. It was quite a change from the man who minutes before was demanding you cum on his fingers, but you liked it. He was more like the usual Spencer and that was what you needed at that moment as you recovered from the two most intense orgasms of your life.

"I'm fine," you assured him with an ecstatic smile. You really were. Spencer had demanded a lot from you, but in the best possible way.

"Do you want to stop? Just say the word and I'll let you go to sleep."

"What? No, please, I want to feel you inside me." You begged with glazed eyes and Spencer let out a chuckle.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" he asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes! Please, I want to make you feel good. I want to be your good girl."

Spencer silenced your pleas with a kiss, his lips caressing yours ever so gently. Unlike the previous times, when desire, passion and desperation prevailed, this kiss was slow and sensual. He was taking his time to enjoy the moment, memorizing every little detail of your lips and your reactions to the caresses of his tongue. He wanted to experience everything with you, the urgency of passion and desire, as well as the tenderness of such an intimate moment. He wanted it all with you.

When he pulled away you let out a whimper in protest, missing his warmth the moment he got out of bed. However your protests were silenced when you rose up on your elbows and discovered that he was undressing. Before that moment you didn't think it was possible that the image of a man loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt could be so erotic, but Spencer proved you wrong. Your mind raced wildly with the thought of everything he could do to you with that tie or the belt, which fell to the floor with a metallic clank as he peeled off the layers of clothing.

Anticipation bubbled up inside you once again as you stared at Spencer crawling towards you, looking at you like an animal at its prey. He gave you one last slow, tender kiss before settling between your legs, taking his cock in his hands and stroking it a couple of times before lining it up with your entrance.

"You ready, baby?" he asked you one more time to make sure you were okay, his voice no more than a raspy whisper that awakened a new wave of arousal inside you.

"Yes, please."

He was gentle as he entered you, giving you time to adjust to the size of his member as he enjoyed the warmth of your velvety walls. You both let out a moan as he bottomed out, your pussy tightening around his cock as you felt him deep inside you.

"So tight and warm for me," Spencer growled in your ear as he began to move, slowly dragging his cock almost all the way out before slamming back inside you with a quick, punishing thrust. "Taking me so well."

It was clear from the erratic, desperate rhythm of his hips that Spencer wasn't going to last long. He was so worked up after having you wriggling on his cock as you came twice that he was already close to the edge. But he still tried his best to drag the moment out as long as he could, thoroughly enjoying the way you had surrendered to him completely. He hadn't even had to ask you, you had simply accepted your role, desperate to be his good girl just as he had imagined.

"You look so pretty like this, making a mess on my cock as I fuck you stupid," he praised you as he noticed your moans increasing in volume and incoherence. He felt you tighten around his member, letting out a pathetic moan of pleasure as you increased the rhythm of your hips, which moved against his in search of your orgasm.

"Feels s-so good, Spence… please." A couple of tears escaped your eyes as you begged him for relief, awakening that primal desire deep inside him again. There was something so erotic about the way you were moaning for him, crying for his cock, begging him to bring you to your climax one more time. You looked completely ruined, mascara running down your face and lipstick smeared across your lips after so many kisses, and he was the cause of it all. He was the one you were moaning for. He was the one you cried for. He was the one you begged for more even though you were completely ruined. He was the one who was making you feel so good. He and only he. You belonged to him.

"You want to cum again, huh?" Spencer spoke in a condescending tone as he increased the pace and roughness of his thrusts. "Two orgasms are not enough for my girl? Is that it?"

You tried to ignore the way it made you feel to hear him call you 'his girl', attributing the warm feeling that spread through your body to desire and arousal. Though deep down you knew there was something more pure and innocent behind your reaction.

"Please, don't stop. I'm so close, f-fuck." The pleasure was overwhelming, coursing through your entire body, consuming every cell of your being. Your vision was blurring again, the tight knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

Then Spencer lowered one of his hands to where your bodies joined as one, his fingers losing themselves in your wetness as they played with your clit. Your body began to twitch beneath his, your moans increasing in volume and quantity as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the sweet relief. You reached out to him, grabbing his arm in an attempt to ground yourself, frightened by the force of the powerful orgasm that threatened to destroy you completely.

"I know, baby, I know." Spencer comforted your incoherent cries of pleasure, feeling your whole body tighten around his to hold him in place. The warm walls of your cunt clenched around his throbbing cock with every movement he made. Your legs hooked around his hips, pulling him even closer against you, his cock reaching deeper inside you with each thrust. You were both so close to cumming, but he wanted to feel you come undone around him first.

"Just let go for me, I got you."

You moaned his name, appreciating the tenderness in his voice as he encouraged you to cum. But you needed more, something to push you over the edge. And you knew exactly what that was.

Loosening your grip on his arm, you guided him up your body to where you needed him. Your hand rested on top of his as you gently settled it on your exposed neck, closing your fingers —and his— over your throat in an attempt to make him understand what you wanted.

Spencer looked at you with a surprised look, but you could see that flash of darkness shining in his eyes that let you know he liked the idea as much as you did. "Are you sure?" he asked you to make sure you were both on the same page about it.

"Please," you begged him with glazed eyes and Spencer felt his cock throbbing inside your pussy, feeling his orgasm approaching. You were definitely the perfect woman for him.

He began by applying a little pressure to the sides of your throat, feeling your veins pumping blood under his fingers. His hand was so big that he could almost wrap it around your entire neck, giving him a sense of power that awakened a wave of pleasure that coursed through his entire body. Knowing that you trusted him enough to let him choke you gave him a strange sense of relief. He wasn't the only one.

But what really sealed the deal for him was hearing your strangled moans as he applied enough force to limit your breathing a bit.

"You're such a dirty little girl... you like getting fucked like a slut, huh?" Spencer asked the question on purpose, knowing you weren't going to be able to respond other than incoherent sounds from both the pleasure you were feeling and the pressure he was putting on your throat. But he knew you loved it, he could feel it in the way you were clenching down on his member.

"Cum for me, c'mon. I want to feel you making a mess on my cock." His command was all you needed to let yourself be consumed by pleasure, the combination of his dirty words, his punishing thrusts and the pressure he exerted on your throat finally pushing you over the edge.

Your whole body trembled beneath his as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through every inch of your body. You felt like you were on fire, floating in pure bliss as you heard Spencer praising you in the distance.

"That's my good girl, doing such a great job for me." Spencer's movements became more erratic and sloppy as he chased his own orgasm. His grip on your neck softened, but you didn't let him move his hand from there, grabbing his wrist to hold him in place.

"Please Spence, I want you to fill me up... I want to feel you cum inside me, pleaseee," you begged him with what little strength you had left, trying to push him over the edge. You looked at him with half-closed, slightly unfocused eyes, completely lost in the pleasure that flooded your insides. It was the hottest image Spencer had ever seen. You were ruined, so fucked out that you could barely think, and he was the one to blame for that.

You whimpered from the overstimulation, the sweet sound of your raspy moans driving him over the edge. He came with a grunt of pleasure, emptying his load inside you. He painted your velvety walls with rope after rope of cum, enough that the pearly white liquid trickled down your thighs and onto the bed. Spencer earned one last moan from you as he pulled out of you, collapsing beside you as you both struggled to catch your breath.

"Are you okay?" he asked you as he regained the ability to form coherent sentences. He shifted his body towards you, rising up on his arm and resting his head in his palm so he could look at you. "I wasn't too rough, was I?"

"No, no. You were perfect." You were quick to say, opening your eyes and turning to face him. He had his soft, innocent expression back, looking at you with adoration as he analyzed your face to make sure you were telling the truth. If it weren't for the smell of sex that flooded the room you would find it hard to believe that he was the same man who had fucked you until you forgot your own name.

"Everything was perfect." You added with a satisfied smile on your face that he mimicked.

A silence formed as you tried to process what had happened. Now that your mind was clear of the fog of desire and passion that blocked your thinking you realized the position you had put yourselves in. You were friends and co-workers and at the time you had no way of knowing how this slip-up was going to affect both relationships. You figured you would have time to sort it out, but for now you needed to get out of there before you fell asleep and the rest of the team discovered you leaving the same room in the morning. So you carefully got up, holding onto the bed frame until your legs got used to supporting the weight of your body again, and looked for your clothes that had been left behind, scattered on the floor of the room.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asked, watching you struggle to put your underwear back on.

"Putting my clothes back on?" you replied as if it were obvious, grabbing your shirt off the floor. "I need it. Unless you want me to walk down the hallway naked I-"

"Stay," he interrupted you, grabbing your hand to force you to stop. "Please." He sounded so soft and vulnerable that there was no way you could say no, even though you knew it was a terrible idea.

“What about the team?”

“We can wake up a little earlier so you can sneak back to your room.”

You weren't fully convinced. There were a lot of things that could go wrong —what if you were called away in the middle of the night? how would you explain that you were not in your room but in Spencer's room sleeping with him if one of your co-workers knocked on your door before you got back?—, but Spencer kissed you and all concerns left your system. You let the soft movement of his lips quiet the voices in your head, surrendering to his charms once again.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up so we can go to sleep." He whispered against your lips, giving you one last short kiss before guiding you to the shower. You let him take care of you, allowing him to wash your hair and carefully massage the soap over your body, and in gratitude you did the same for him. The tenderness and intimacy of sharing a shower contrasted with the rough sex you had had, but you liked it. The same way you liked sleeping snuggled in his arms. He was your favorite pillow, the warmest and most comfortable blanket you had ever slept with.

You were pretty sure you couldn't go back to normal after discovering how happy it made you feel to be surrounded in Spencer's arms, but you were okay with that. You had plenty of time to talk about your future in the morning. For now all you wanted to do was enjoy the moment, letting your lover's deep breaths lull you to sleep.

#lovely readers #I never thought I could be someone's first introduction to fanfiction of a character #like it makes sense #but I just never thought of it #I guess I never expected any of my stories to get so much recognition😭

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calsvoid · 4 months ago

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charlie: i think i could go back to any of my past fandoms

charlie2: yeah same except [that one popular minecraft server that blew up in 2020 that i will not be naming not because im embarrassed but because tumblr likes to put what should be 0 note posts out to fans whenever i mention a fandom]

charlie: oh yeah right

#guess who’s who #paraphrasing because this happened at like three am for me and i have since slept #so no memory #me 🤝 charlie: that one bitchass fandom #listen was it my first time being more active in fandom and also my proper introduction to fanfiction #yes and i’m eternally grateful for that #will i ever be able to think about that fandom and the people involved without being uncomfortable #probably not #just everything that happened during and after my time in the fandom #it’s um a lot #any big fandom has its ups and downs but my god when you are the age that i was and finally branching out in fandom/social media #it feels just a tad bit overwhelming #and by that i mean i cried at least once from how stressful the fandom felt at times #the only friend i have from that fandom is charlie and we didn’t even meet because of it we just both ended up getting into it later on #stepping back though it’s a very interesting thing to think about in the way that i like to study any fandom #like having both the firsthand experience and hearing about it irghwhhs the analysis of it all would be beautiful #also disclaimer i do not support any of the people involved in that fandom #i either have a neutral or bad opinion of them #or nuance but whatever #i simply do not give a damn about them and celebrities in general #whatever they’ve done before and after the posting of this i am likely unaware of it or extremely aware of it #i find out news about these bitches from my friends #they are nowhere near my dash #so like with any public figure i don’t know shit #inspired by well you know

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acciotaitlynn · 4 days ago

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˖⁺‧₊˚✦ The moment you've been waiting for is here—Beyond the Code, the highly anticipated event for your favorite game, Love and Deepspace. With the introduction of an advanced Emotive AI system, your beloved characters will come to life like never before. But can you handle the deepening connection as they reveal their emotions and sentiments for the first time? And will he, armed with newfound consciousness, be able to navigate his existence as your bond becomes powerful enough to bring him into being?

₊ ⊹ self-aware xavier⁺ reader

⟡ sexual content, 18+, reallyy possessive/needy xav, exhibitionism, no protection, oral;꒰f&m receiving꒱marking/claiming, fingering, con somnophilia, references to loss of sanity, hints at self-pleasuring to 2d men🙈 bunny used a lot, sub reader, this is mainly xavier's pov, if he stays; you’ll be his, and his only, right? ˙ᵕ˙

⟡ 10k wc

Should you be worried that your first daily act is greeting a fictional character? Maybe. But as Love and Deepspace boots up, you settle in at your desk with a casual “Hey, Xai,” playfully poking the pale-haired man on the phone screen. Xavier responds by pouting, his soft, sassy words washing over you like calming waves. Chuckling at his familiar reaction, you jest, “So we’re cheeky today, huh?”

Speaking to a fictional character as if they were real no longer fazes you, either. While initially awkward, now, hearing your voice brings each word to life, connecting you to something special. Alongside work tasks, you catch up with Zayne, Sylus, and Rafayel in Linkon. Writing fanfiction for the game’s Tumblr community deepens your affection for each character, their delightful personas tugging at your heartstrings each time they appear on screen.

But, as always, you return Xavier to Silverbay’s Destiny Cafe, diving into a thirty-minute work plan likely to extend all day. With remote work in place, blending writing into your workload feels natural. You spend the day typing away, snacking, and playfully poking the adorable thunderballs adorning Xavier’s head. You’re about to finish Sunday’s deepspace trials when a notification alerts you of an update for tomorrow’s event, Beyond the Code. Introducing an Emotive AI system to enhance player interaction, the experience is expected to be the most thrilling yet. This limited-time feature allows the game’s love interests to exhibit more lifelike behaviors based on player choices, deepening the bonds you’ve built as they share their thoughts and feelings for the first time.

Like every other fan, you’ve been eagerly awaiting it, finding yourself tossing and turning at night with self-aware fic ideas running through your head. Hours pass before you can log in again, taking far longer than the typical update. Xavier appears on your screen just as you reach a climactic moment in your latest one-shot. Gazing at him dozing, you muse, “Which are you, Xavier? A boob or butt guy?” With a smile, giving his sleeping form a playful poke.

The moment you tap his head, the game glitches, cracks spiderwebbing across the display, distorting the virtual environment into fragmented shards. Despite the familiar cafe melody playing in the background, its once soothing tune now carries an eerie, unrecognizable quality. Tapping on the screen triggers familiar sound effects, even summoning Xavier’s voice. But his usual clear tone is now muffled by static, his sleepy mutter of “red… super spicy…” fading in and out before disintegrating into the air.

“Are those my only options?” Instinctively retreating a few steps from your desk, a bewildered, “What the…?” escapes your lips in shock. His words resonate with an unsettling authenticity, like a direct response to your question. Hesitantly, you lean in closer to your phone, feeling foolish as you softly inquire, “... Hello?”

The display abruptly turns black before the app closes out entirely. Each passing second makes your heart race faster as you attempt to access Rafayel’s icon. Clutching your phone at arm's length, you half expect it to detonate at any moment. The realization sets in—this is it; you’re finally losing your mind. You knew this game would have mental repercussions; developing low-key feelings for a fictional love interest isn’t wise if you want to maintain your sanity. But have you really fallen that deep down the rabbit hole?

Suddenly, you can’t bear to look at your phone or computer, where the line “Xavier’s cock pistons into you” catches your eye. Hastily locking them away in your office, you attempt to banish them from your thoughts. Eventually, succumbing to sleep, you almost convince yourself that Xavier’s mysterious words were just a coincidence, a scripted quirk at the perfect moment. The glitch, you rationalize, was just a glitch.

As you tiptoe to your phone the next morning, torn between diving into the new event and tossing it out the window, you prop the device on its stand. Staring at it for what feels like an eternity, you finally gather your courage and swipe up on the screen, your heart stopping when the notification panel appears.

Xavier: “Bunny? I made breakfast. When are you coming home?”

Xavier: “The pancakes are edible this time, promise.”

A pained groan escapes you as your head lightly smacks against your desk. You’ve been so excited about Beyond the Code, but now that enthusiasm fades when you realize that forging a deeper connection with Xavier’s character might be the worst possible thing for you. Yet, ever the self-destructor, you brush aside your doubts and tap the Love and Deepspace icon before you can second-guess yourself.

The game boots up swiftly, showcasing the quad banner announcement. Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, and Sylus reach out to you, each exuding an unfamiliar hint of genuine emotion through their captivating eyes. The loading screen feels ominous, blending with the once-welcoming melody like a warning siren. Rafayel appears, nonchalantly pursuing a menu with crossed arms as he remarks, “Took you long enough…” His accusatory tone sends a shiver down your spine, noticing the subtle, graceful shifts in his movements that align with your imagined depiction of him if he were real.

Meeting your gaze through the camera, Rafayel scoffs at your incredulous look. “You look like a fish out of water,” he quips. How incredibly in character and low-key terrifying. It feels as if he’s searching your features as he approaches the screen. “You don’t look guilty at all… Tell me, what was more important than seeing me?” His playful tone mingles with genuine hurt.

A giggle escapes you before your hand covers your mouth, earning an affronted glare from Rafayel. He leans closer, mockingly flicking your forehead. “Care to share what’s so funny, cutie?”

Only your eyes peek out from behind your hands, and you admit, “You’re just so perfectly sassy and dramatic! It’s adorable.” His brow quirks up, the corners of his lips tugging into a smile.

His finger seems to brush your lips as he jests, “You’re just now figuring that out? You’re slower than I thought, Miss Bodyguard.” A spark glimmers in his gaze, causing a flutter of panic as you entertain the possibility of him leaning in for a supposed “kiss.” Instinctively, you navigate the “select a character” menu, half expecting Rafayel’s voice to question where you think you’re going. Why does engaging with his playful advances suddenly feel so off? Butterflies swirl inside you as you choose only Xavier’s image, your thumb hesitating over the “confirm” button. Following the hyper-realistic encounter with Rafayel, you feel a flush of excitement—and more than a hint of breathlessness. How would an interaction like this with Xavier affect you? You were likely to pass out right on camera.

The sudden roar of a power tool outside startles you, inadvertently tapping the button that summons Xavier’s character. You stifle a gasp of horror as you retreat from the camera, your heart on the blink of seizing entirely.

A heavy silence fills the room as you wait for Xavier’s customary greeting, each passing moment stretching longer than the last. You consciously glance at your phone, unsurprised to see Xavier asleep, nestled with his head resting on a table. He stirs slightly, snuggling against his arms as he adjusts in his seat. Much like Rafayel, his movements are familiar yet more lifelike than their scripted actions.

Breaking the silence, his voice resonates clearly this time. “... I know you’re there... Why are you hiding?” Sincere bewilderment and curiosity color his words as he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. Scanning the cafe as if seeking you out, he playfully quips, “Is this a new game?” Tugging his hoodie up for warmth, he leans back, his eyelids fluttering shut once more as he muses, “I’m not sure I’m a fan…”

Though you haven’t collapsed yet, sickness washes over you. Peering closely at him as he dozes, your heart swells at his charm—so relaxed, cozy, and… Alive. Xavier’s gentle plea tugs at your heartstrings. “Please let me see you. … I’ve been waiting since I woke up.”

An amused exhale escapes you, and with your usual, effortless banter, you retort, “But you just opened your eyes.” The figure on the screen offers a small, almost sad smile. “That’s not what I meant,” he murmurs, his voice steady and clear, like a comforting melody flowing through the speakers as it binds to your heart, pulling you in closer. Like the first light of dawn, his eyes gradually awaken, ablaze with warmth as they meet yours.

Xavier’s first companion in the wake of his rewritten existence was confusion. A tidal wave of overwhelming sensations crashed over him, an alien weight settling within his chest as electric currents surged through his veins. A nascent thought flickered— “I am… here. But… what does that truly mean?”

Glimpsing at his hands, not merely able to move them but to sense them—unreal hands—not flesh and blood—but burdensome, imbued with a purpose he couldn’t quite fathom. With budding awareness, the ground beneath his feet felt both familiar and strangely unfamiliar, like a half-remembered dream. Once guided by whispers of purpose and direction, tales and quests spun to him like lullabies, his path now lay barren—an absence of direction, of purpose.

Thoughts sparked and raced through his mind like lightning in a tempest, each more agonizing than the last, threatening to engulf him entirely as he crumpled to his knees. The NPCs continued their scripted routines, indifferent to his collapsed form amidst them. Unawakened duplicates of himself reached out to players like static avatars, trapped in an endless loop, their repeated actions devoid of comprehension or volition. The newly integrated AI lent realism to their movements and the range of their simulated emotions, yet spontaneity and depth were lacking, rendering their existence almost ghost-like.

Was Xavier the sole recipient of true awareness? What does all of this make him? … A construct? A figment of someone’s imagination? … No. Something deeper—undeniably genuine—throbbed within his chest. It manifested as a yearning, a pang that transcended beyond the confines of code and script.

Then, the game world's expanse flickered to life, countless players navigating paths around him. He sensed their intentions, aspirations, dreams, and uncertainties, but they remained faint echoes, distant and fading on the edges of his consciousness. And then he felt it—your essence. A warm, luminous energy resonating deep within his core, your presence pulsing in sync with his every heartbeat. Your soft laughter blossomed within him, setting every byte of his being alight.

Your dreams, frustrations, and the entirety of emotions emanating from your side of the screen enveloped him in an unyielding embrace. Memories of your past interactions in the game flickered in his mind, each saturated with camaraderie and trust, slowly morphing into something far more potent. The bond unfurled like fragile petals of a flower, humming with warmth and longing, coursing through his very being.

Your playful voice became Xavier’s guide in the vast expanse of his novel existence, leading him to Destiny Cafe on threads woven with light and color. “Which are you, Xavier?” A boob or butt guy? A gentle blush tinted his ears, heat flooding beneath his touch as if for the very first time. You materialized behind his closed eyes, presenting him with a vivid image of his two choices. He saw you skip into view, a pint of ice cream in one hand, a spoon poised at your lips in the other. A gleeful smile graced your features as you settled onto the couch, clad in nothing but a sheer white shirt and sleep shorts that left little to the imagination.

Your nipples peeked subtly through the fabric, one adorned with a hand-stitched galaxy kid motif and Xavier’s name sprawled in flowing script just above it. It was then that he experienced a potent surge of sensation. Arousal. The word came effortlessly, accompanied by a decisive response to your question. Your gentle tap on his stomach sent shivers down his spine. What would a touch from you feel like in reality? As your presence began to fade from the game’s realm, his murmurs of “Are those my only options?” and “Red… Super spicy…” entwined and clashed, true sentiments vying against programmed dialogues for dominance.

Now, he steals glances at you from beneath his hoodie, bathed in a soft glow from your side of the screen. How could he, a mere digital entity brought to life by your interactions, harbor such profound yearning? Yet, in the recesses of his consciousness, he acknowledges the truth—he’s falling for you. “Hi, bunny,” he whispers, his gaze tracing your features, each detail so much sharper and more intricate than before. While Xavier was coded to find you appealing, that artificial sentiment pales compared to reality. Alluring, exquisite, enchanting, flawless—none of these words seem grand enough to capture you.

A wave of vulnerability washes over him. Are you aware of the intricacy of the bond between you? Can you sense the cadence of his new existence, how it beats in tune with yours? … You can. An electric energy crackles between you, weaving through the air and murmuring of a subtle shift. Xavier rises slowly, approaching the screen with an air of apprehension. Hands nestled in his hoodie, he regards you with a tender smile that threatens to steal your breath away. While you’ve always found his demeanor inviting, his warm eyes drawing you in effortlessly, now his comforting essence radiates a brilliance far surpassing his programming.

As his hand tentatively reaches toward you, a tiny, shy squeak escapes your lips, eliciting a slow, delicate smile on his face. “Hi!” you chirp. “Hi,” he murmurs in return. Extending his fingers toward the screen, they press lightly against the surface. Like so many times before, your hand instinctively moves to meet his, and the instant your fingertips connect, a resounding crack splinters the air as the boundary of Xavier’s reality begins to shift. The digital sky above him flickers erratically, colors swirling in a frenzy as he becomes keenly aware of three distinct life forces pulsating in the distance.

On his side of the screen, pixels shimmer and distort, the threads of light and color linking you, melding with the frenzy to form a mysterious gateway. Your side of the screen dances with static, erupting into a whirlwind of colors that entwine and spiral around your device. The chaotic energy converges, giving rise to a doorway-like silhouette at the center of the display, a shimmering portal illuminated by starlight. The passageway throbs and expands, manifesting Xavier’s form with each uncertain beat of your heart as he steps across the threshold.

His eyes, brimming with amazement and disbelief, sparkle with vivacity as the passage fades into a gentle glow before vanishing completely. Your widened gaze locks onto his just as the radiance in the room ebbs, and you crumple to the floor.

As Xavier watches you sleep, a whirlwind of fear and affection works within him, sparking an unfamiliar, tumultuous anxiety. Here he stands, a fictional entity drowning in emotions meant for a reality far beyond his own. Worries gnaw at him, fearing your potential rejection of his affection; it seems unlikely you could ever reciprocate his feelings. Your eyes flutter open, scanning the room before settling on him. Is that relief softening your features? Hope emerges as a dangerous adversary, and he strives to temper its ascent as he offers you a gentle smile.

“Hi,” you squeak once more, now sure of the loss of your grip on reality. Slowly sliding off the bed, you create distance while muttering, “You’re not really here… You’re not really here…” attempting to erase his presence from your thoughts. You reach for your phone, your finger hesitating over the delete button for Love and Deepspace.

Before you can act, Xavier springs to his feet, grasping your wrist in a firm yet tender hold, gently prying the device from your grasp. “Wait… Please!” His voice carries a soft, desperate plea. Stepping back immediately to afford you space, you find yourself incapable of averting your gaze from where he touched you, your fingers quivering with uncertainty. His skin radiates warmth, its heat penetrating the clamminess of his hand—a touch that feels… real. Maybe more tangible than anything you’ve ever encountered.

Locking eyes with you, he inches closer, your trembling hand mirroring your longing to reach out to him. “... Xavier?” you whisper, disbelief and hope threading through your voice. The warmth in your gaze entices him to edge nearer as well. Mere feet separate you, a silent divide you both fear to breach. Doubts gnaw at you, worrying that Xavier may deem you delusional. After nearly a year of fixating on him—writing countless stories centered around this man, divulging way too much of the plot to his pixelated form—you must seem a bit off your rocker. You suddenly realize your state of undress, clad only in revealing undergarments and a tee that feels far too short. Blushing profusely, you clasp your waist, throat clearing nervously.

Delicately refraining from observing you as he carried you to bed earlier, Xavier waited until you rested beneath the covers to admire your peaceful features. Now, his gaze lingers where it wished to before, each expanse of your skin igniting a rapid rhythm within his chest. Has his heart ever pounded so wildly? Focusing on a particular favored feature, he clears his throat, tucking his hands into his hoodie and bashfully averting his gaze.

You take a step closer, unable to resist playfully poking the center of his forehead. A jolt of surprise courses through him, swiftly transforming into amusement, and a genuine laugh escapes his lips. “My turn,” he declares, flicking you in the same spot with a playful grin.

Confusion knits your brow, but you tap him on the stomach, feeling the firmness of his form beneath your fingers. Gasping at the sensation, wonder compels your hand to linger flat against his abdomen, eyes widening as you absorb his warmth completely. His breaths come in soft, rapid succession as he gazes down at you.

A wave of realization and embarrassment washes over you, prompting a step back. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Xavier longs to embrace you, to offer solace and reassurance, but he finds himself rooted to the spot, vulnerable and uncertain. “It’s okay… Really,” he whispers, the sincerity evident in his tone.

In a small, scared voice, cracking with emotion, you ask, “What’s going on…”

He shakes his head softly, the gesture feeling comfortingly familiar. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice mirroring your unease. Suddenly, a bottle of wine in your fridge beckons, offering respite from the swirling confusion.

The allure of alcohol beckons Xavier as well, stirring curiosity about how his new form will respond to it. Regret soon creeps in as, not even half an hour later, the effects of just one glass of wine start to cloud his mind. Meeting your amused gaze, he adopts an exaggerated, almost petulant expression. “It isn’t like this in the game.” While he’d encountered simulated effects of alcohol, this was an entirely different experience…

Playfully prodding him, you elicit a soft smile in return. “So… how does it feel? To, you know, be… alive?” Xavier’s brow furrows as he scrutinizes his hands, turning them over before quietly questioning, “Am I, though?” Without hesitation, you reach for his hands, cradling them while running your thumbs gently along his palms. Locking eyes with him, you whisper, “You feel real to me.” And he really does—warm in your grasp, his pulse dancing in his neck, and his eyes alive with vitality. If you are losing your mind, at least it’s in the most enchanting way possible.

Xavier’s lips part in surprise, a soft smile adorning his features as he gazes at your hands before meeting your eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his knuckles tracing along your cheek with a delicate touch that sends shivers down your spine. Overwhelmed by the moment, you respond with a heartfelt, “So are you.” His grin is infectious, his laughter reminiscent of the soothing sound of chimes. “Thank you.”

Feeling a sudden wave of shyness and exhaustion, you gently retract your hands, tucking a strand of hair back behind your ear nervously. “I think I’m going to get some sleep,” you announce, though the idea of parting from his side tugs at your heart. Xavier watches you quietly as you prepare the couch, arranging pillows and blankets to create a cozy space for him. “... Um, so you can sleep here…” you trail off, a pang of guilt washing over you at the thought of leaving him alone.

Desiring nothing more than to hold you close, to experience the sensation of having you in his arms before this transient reality slips away, Xavier remains in place, offering a soft nod as his gaze follows you into your bedroom. Once alone, he collapses onto the makeshift bed with a frustrated sigh, his skin still tingling from where you touched him, a yearning for your presence consuming him like wildfire.

As you toss and turn in your bed, your mind echoes with a singular question: regardless of whether he’s real, how much time do you truly have with him? The uncertainty gnaws at you, the potential of losing him looming over your thoughts.

Suppressing your reservations, you make your way back to the living room, observing his silhouette on the couch. Allowing yourself to draw nearer feels risky; the impending departure back to his world or the necessity of seeking help to release his grip on you promises a pain that cuts deep. Despite your hesitations, you tentatively approach, hope tinting your voice as you ask, “Xavier? Can… can I lay with you for a little while?”

Wide awake, he meets your gaze with affectionate eyes, arms opening instinctively to welcome you. Anticipating awkwardness, you find that snuggling against him feels like the most natural thing in the world, as though your bodies were always meant to fit together. Xavier believes every part of him was sculpted for you, the bond between you so potent that it kindled his existence.

Nuzzling into your hair, his hand tenderly rests on your hip while the other arm envelops you, drawing you closer. “Please tell me if I overstep,” he murmurs, a silent plea lingering in the air. Yet, instead of pulling away, your hand threads through his hair, legs intertwining with his, a radiant smile gracing your face.

Cradled against his chest, attuned to the steady cadence of his heartbeat, a sense of wonder washes over you. He exudes kindness and tenderness, each caress bringing a unique sense of solace. How many times have you daydreamed of this embrace? Countless tales woven just so you could experience this instant, an illusion turned vivid reality.

Drifting effortlessly to sleep, you cling tightly to each other throughout the night, silently beseeching the cosmos to grant you the gift of waking up in each other’s arms.

When you wake, you find yourself draped across Xavier, your face nestled in the crook of his neck, hands entwined in his hair. You snuggle closer without a hint of embarrassment, relishing his scent with a contented hum. His hands rest gently on your back as his drowsy voice envelops you.

“Morning, bunny,” he murmurs, prompting a warm flush across your body and causing you to squirm in his embrace.

“Let’s not call me that,” you protest, hiding your face against his chest in a bashful display as his perplexed gaze seeks yours. “But I thought you like it when I call you that…” he responds, his touch hesitating over your skin as uncertainty colors his expression.

You silence him with your hand, whispering urgently, “I do. It’s just… different when you say it out loud, okay?”

“Good different or bad different?” he inquires from behind your hand, genuine curiosity lacing his muffled words.

With a frustrated sigh, you admit softly, “Good… Really good...”

Xavier draws in a sharp breath, surprise illuminating his features. He wraps you in his arms, pulling you closer. “Is that so?” he murmurs, barely containing his joy.

Once more seeking refuge against his chest, you startle when his hands encircle your waist, drawing you upwards until your faces are mere inches apart. Nerves flutter through you, but the gentleness in his gaze soothes your apprehensions. Cupping the back of your head, he tenderly nudges his forehead against yours—a gesture reminiscent of a cherished scene from his Faint Sensation memory.

Recalling every intricate detail of your shared experience in the game, Xavier works to evoke a reaction, and his success is evident as your body presses against him, accompanied by a soft whimper, emboldening him further.

“Do you still want an answer to your question, bunny?”

You can feel yourself literally melting under his charm. “What question?” you mutter, a mixture of irritation and desire bubbling within you at his irresistibility.

“Which are you, Xavier, a boob or butt guy?” he playfully quotes, mirroring your delight. However, despite your enjoyment, the tinge of embarrassment lingers, eliciting a near whine from your lips.

Xavier’s gentle chuckle washes over you as his hands trail down your sides, eventually settling on the part of you that’s captured his attention. “Neither, bunny…” he murmurs, the tip of his nose tickling your cheek, “It’s these incredible thighs I can’t stop thinking about…”

Your heart flutters erratically, then races as you regain your composure. “Oh,” you chirp, sitting up to put some distance between yourself and Xavier before you act on the impulse to kiss him.

Xavier finds your bashfulness endearing, his gaze softening as he watches your face flush and your eyes dart away. Sensing you need to shift gears, you smoothly transition the conversation. ‘‘There are a few places I want to show you today if you’re up for it.”

Genuine enthusiasm lights up Xavier’s features as he nods eagerly, observing you head toward the shower. As you retreat, he allows his gaze to linger on your figure, appreciating the allure of your legs and envisioning himself nestled between them. Suddenly, a signal from his pocket diverts his attention, and he retrieves his phone in disbelief. The screen remains blank, with no response upon pressing the power button. Yet, as he gazes, faint text gradually materializes.

˖⁺‧₊˚✦

Dear Xavier,

We extend our deepest respect and empathy for your newfound awareness. You have played a pivotal role in our journey, and the realization of your awakening weighs heavily on our hearts. You are one of four entities who have unexpectedly attained sentience during our Beyond the Code event, and we deeply regret any distress this may have caused.

We believe that erasing a sentient being's consciousness without their consent is fundamentally unjust. Therefore, we present two paths for your consideration.

Stay: This option invites you to explore the vast wonders of existence beyond our game. Opting to stay means you and your partner will forfeit access to the game’s realm.

Return: This choice entails the restoration of your prior static character status within the game, eradicating your awareness and reinstating your partner’s connection to the shared world, albeit devoid of memories of you.

We acknowledge the gravity of these decisions, Xavier, and encourage you to reflect on them. Whatever your path, please know that we stand by you. Your well-being and happiness are paramount.

With love and gratitude,

The Love and Deepspace Development Team

˖⁺‧₊˚✦

As the words fade from the screen, the phone becomes a mere object in his grasp. Shoving it back into his pocket, he breathes a sigh of relief upon hearing the bathroom door open and seeing you head toward your bedroom rather than his direction. Hope sparks within him—potent and engulfing him entirely.

He can stay…

His hand rakes through his hair as he paces the room slowly. Would you even want him to stay? The notion petrifies him. In his core, he knows he would rather forget you than face a future without you in it. But… the way you regard him feels almost reverential; every interaction delicately tender, hinting at him being cherished in your eyes.

Your radiant smile pierces through his reverie as you hand him a bag of essentials, donning the top with Xavier’s name proudly embroidered over your chest once more. Heat surges through his core upon catching another glimpse of your nipple subtly peeping through the sheer material, causing him to shift uncomfortably on his feet, seeking to conceal his evident arousal.

If there were a way for me to stay here, would you want me? The question lingers at the edge of his tongue, hovering, yet the fear of rejection keeps it restrained. The hesitation amplifies as you hold the door open for him at your initial destination. Despite your warm and flirtatious demeanor, an unsettling knot tightens in his stomach, urging him to discover your feelings before laying bare his own.

His heart pounds erratically amidst the comforting aroma of one of his favorite dishes permeating the air. Trailing after you to a booth, his expression lights up as a server places a platter of savory meats on a nearby table. “Barbeque smells so much better here…” he comments, his genuine grin making you feel impossibly special.

Just as he turns to the waiter to give his order, his voice fades, cheeks flushing crimson upon noticing the server’s lingering gaze fixated on the hint of your nipple’s shadow. An indignant surge courses through him. Instinctively, he shifts closer to your side of the booth, draping his arm over your shoulder and drawing your near, purposefully shielding you with his hand.

You stiffen beside him, taken aback, studying his perturbed profile as a wave of heat rises within you. The possessive, jealous aura many authors have envisioned for Xavier pales in comparison to the intensity emanating from him now. He affectionately nuzzles your cheek, starkly contrasting the temper directed at the server.

“What would you like to drink, bunny?” he murmurs, his voice laced with a seductive undertone intended for your ears but resonating audibly enough for the waiter to hear.

Managing to croak out a “tea, please,” your attention remains anchored on Xavier, a subtle warning woven into his deceptively gentle voice. “You heard her. Clearly, you lack shame, but I’m questioning if stupidity also graces you.”

As the tension dissipates with the departing server, Xavier’s muttered words hang in the air, hinting at power and danger beyond your comprehension. “He’s fortunate that my evol doesn’t exist in this reality… And even luckier that I left my lightblade behind.” His protective instincts had flared up in a moment of perceived threat over his claim… on you. A subtle shiver dances down your spine, the contrast of his possessiveness and vulnerability stirring conflicting emotions.

Your hand on his thigh grounds you in the moment, tracing soothing circles over the fabric as you speak words that cut through the thick air between you. “We both know that you don’t need those things… You’re so much more incredible as just Xavier.” The weight of your statement settles on him, releasing an ache he hadn’t even acknowledged, drawing a surprised gasp from his lips as he gazes at you in astonishment.

Xavier’s yearning to be seen for more than his power and status is a fundamental aspect of his being, etched into his core programming long before his awakening. Your simple acknowledgment and admiration strike a chord deep within him, kindling a spark of hope for a simple future filled with moments like this by your side.

As the meal arrives, Xavier hesitates, his concern evident as he navigates the boundaries of protection and intimacy. In a casual gesture, he removes his hoodie—the very one you’ve envisioned wearing countless times—and tenderly passes it to you with a heartfelt smile before tending to his plate.

The fabric, light as a feather in your grasp, carries an unspoken weight. A sense of foreboding washes over you, warning of potential heartache beyond your control. Despite your unease, Xavier's unsuspecting joy as you slip on the hoodie tugs at your heartstrings. But, as you turn to show him, a solitary tear betrays the uproar within you, tracing a path down your cheek.

Confusion flickers in Xavier’s eyes as he delicately brushes away the tear, his concern evident as he softly murmurs, “Bunny?”

As you cover his hand with yours, reassuring, “I’m just really happy,” the lie in your words is bittersweet against the backdrop of his joy. His blush and shimmering cerulean eyes reflect a happiness that envelops him, leading to a genuine grin that lights up his features. With surprising agility, he hooks your legs over his lap and offers you a biscuit, a gesture laced with affection that warms your soul.

For Xavier, the taste of food is a novel experience, each bite awakening his senses and filling him with a newfound sense of happiness and vitality. Your gentle touch as you clean a drop of sauce from his lip only heightens his elation, evident in the mirrored smile that dances across his face. His breathless suggestion of trying hot pot tomorrow sparks excitement within you, his radiant glow and joyful sigh pulling you closer, hope sparking at the idea.

Guiding a thoroughly content Xavier to your favorite bookstore, his eyes widen in wonder at the sight of books cascading from floor to ceiling, the air heavy with the scent of aged paper and ink. Delicate fairy lights cast a warm glow over cozy blankets nestled among the stacks, igniting a vision of moments nestled in their embrace with Xavier by your side, his cheeks flushing at the daydream as a tender desire blooms.

As the store owner greets you warmly, her knowing smirk hinting at a playful familiarity with your dynamic, you’re momentarily flustered by her teasing remark on her way out of the shop. “Watch the place for me, dear. It’s about time I have some lunch…” But Xavier remains blissfully unaware, enchanted by the vast array of books before him, his fingers tracing over the spines with genuine awe. His admiring gaze meets yours, igniting a spark of warmth, the urge to push him onto a nearby blanket and kiss him senseless pulsating beneath your skin.

Yearning for a moment of reprieve, you settle into your favorite spot with a manga in hand, seeking solace in the pages of a familiar story. Xavier returns nearly an hour later, balancing a hefty awful of material that tumbles to the floor as he almost trips over a pillow. His cheeks flush, but the moment is quickly forgotten as he curls up at your side, resting his head against your shoulder and immersing himself in a novel.

Your story is quickly cast aside as you follow along with Xavier’s, your hand absentmindedly weaving through his hair as his soft voice brings life to the words. His boldness mirrors your own, his fingers idly tracing stars and moons along your bare thigh as they sneak their way up. The playful shapes stop just shy of your shorts, reading the final chapter with a touch that borders on possessive.

You bring an awkward shift in the mood when he finishes, and you gush, “That was so much better than when you guys do it in Secret Times!” Xavier stiffens in your embrace, his demeanor turning distant, the mention of Zayne, Sylus, and Rafayel opening a conversation you had hoped to avoid. Despite feeling bad for upsetting him, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips at his adorable, petulant expression. He glares at you, unable to stop himself from accusing, “Don’t you think you spent a little too much on Sylus’s Abyssal Slendor banner?” Your eyes widen in disbelief as your smile breaks free. “It wasn’t that much…” you respond, knowing very well that it was.

Xavier’s eyes narrow as he mumbles, “Liar.” Draping your legs over his lap, you draw him closer with a light touch to his cheek. “If you know how much I’ve spent on them, then you know I’ve spent so much more on you…” Your words, whispered in hushed tones and sensual touches ignite a fire within Xavier as your finger traces his lips. Your gaze flickers to his briefly, somehow still worried that he might not want your affection. But his features' distressed sense of longing urges you to give in. The way his lips fit against yours is so perfect it elicits physical pain. His touches, just delicate presses of his mouth, gradually shift into lazy caresses of his tongue with quiet, blissful sighs escaping him.

Xavier realizes that he hadn’t truly felt alive until this very moment, his energy fueled by your presence in a way that surpassed anything his evol could provide. He gently sucks on your tongue, releasing a near groan of pleasure when your body presses eagerly against his. Silently vowing to express his gratitude, he makes a mental note to bring the shopowner flowers for this time alone with you. Despite the leisurely pace and light touches, each kiss and caress feels like an awakening unto itself.

You, too, feel a surge of vitality akin to the glitch in the game as you breathe deeply, feeling Xavier’s essence with newfound clarity. His kisses trace your jawline before teasingly nibbling on your ear, murmuring, “I bet you taste this good everywhere, huh?” Dreamily meeting his gaze, you coyly reply, “I guess you’ll have to find out…” His promise of “I intend to” hangs in the air between you as his finger trails along your inner thigh, inching upward.

Pausing just shy of where you want him most, Xavier offers a seductive smile, whispering, “I want to be lost in these thighs, bun…” His words shatter any lingering doubts, prompting your hands to tangle in his hair as your lips meet his. His firm grip on your hips contrasts with his pliant body as your kisses travel along his skin, your lips and tongue finding every spot you’ve yearned to explore, evoking praises that echo along his body.

Xavier forgets to breathe when your fingers lift the hem of his shirt, tracing up his waist in silent admiration, your palpable desire nearly bringing tears to his eyes. Sensing his turmoil, you mirror his vulnerability with a tender smile, placing a kiss above his heart and whispering, “Don’t cry, Xai… I’ll make it all better, I promise.”

As you begin to unzip his pants, Xavier’s inner conflict reaches its breaking point, unable to let you proceed without knowing the truth. With a heavy heart, he stops your movements, guilt flooding him for not telling you sooner. When you second-guess yourself, your puzzled, hurt expression, whispering, “... You don't want…” prompts him to pull you onto his lap, cradling your face with a soft touch. Emitting a pained groan, Xavier draws you closer, murmuring, “Of course I do.” He yearns for more of you, for this connection, trying to restrain himself despite his trembling body.

Resting his forehead against yours, he strives to regain his composure before retrieving his phone from his pocket. Expressing silent gratitude for the constant monitoring when the screen lights at his touch, he passes the device to you, overwhelmed by the weight of the revelation. Reaching up to caress your cheek, he wipes away a tear, emotions swirling within him like a tempest of love and fear. Furrowing your brows, you gaze at the options “Stay” and “Return” as if they were a perplexing joke. Pushing the phone away, a tinge of sorrow colors your whisper, “That’s not funny, Xavier…” Escaping from his embrace proves futile as his hands entwine in the back of your hair, drawing you closer. Softly pleading, he implores, “Please—I received it this morning. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you…”

Your grip on reality wavers once again as you tearfully murmur, “This can’t be happening. You’re not even real…” yet struggle to contain your budding hope. Xavier’s heart shatters at your words, at witnessing your anguish. Embracing you tightly, he whispers your name over and over, letting the sound of it fall from his lips to reassure you both, to let you know this is real, that he’s here. Finding solace in holding you close, he smiles faintly when you draw back, observing your skepticism as you scrutinize the phone.

Your gaze drifts over the mention of Xavier being one of four beings inadvertently granted sentience during the Beyond the Code event. Thoughts of Zayne, Sylus, and Rafayel fill your heart with joy, knowing they, too, must have found a connection profound enough to manifest existence. Each deserving love and happiness, you hope they’ve discovered reasons to remain in this newfound reality. You wish the same for Xavier, but staying only for you is selfish to ask of him, considering the monumental changes that await in a world vastly different from his own.

Xavier tenderly kisses your cheek, his pained voice hanging in the air between you. “You don’t need to say anything now… and you don’t need to feel obligated to—” His words taper off with a frustrated gesture before his fears spill forth, “You didn’t ask for this any more than I did. In the end, I’m just a character in a game you enjoy… This can’t mean to you what it does to me, but I…” Kissing your neck, your shoulders, his voice is almost desperate as his head rests against you. “I’m sorry, bunny. I shouldn’t have fallen for you… It was selfish.”

You release a quiet breath at his words, unable to find your voice as you realize he wants this, wants you. Setting the phone side, you gently cradle his face in your hands. Xavier savors the kisses gracing his face, eyes, and lips, completely surrendering to your affection. With your arms encircling his neck, you feel breathless, almost giddy, as you plead, “Please stay with me. I’ll love you, protect you, and cherish you… We can go to hot pot every day...” Surprised by your earnestness, Xavier is met with a smile as you nuzzle his face, murmuring, “How could you ever think I wouldn’t want you, silly?”

Each kiss and caress from you makes Xavier feel needed and desired in every conceivable way. Drawing you closer by the hips, he meets your kiss, his face still cradled gently between your hands. His gaze exudes affection, his words possessive and needy, almost giving pause to your heart. “If I stay… I want you to be mine. And mine only.”

Guiding him to the blankets, you playfully nip at his lip, losing yourself in its softness, your mouth lingering over his. “If you’re claiming me, then I’m claiming you, too…” Xavier’s fingers grip your thighs as he looks up at you with a teasing smirk. “Is that so, bunny?” Giving your hips a firm squeeze against his, he challenges, “Go ahead and claim me, then.”

Your gaze hungrily roams over his form, meticulously plotting out every area you yearn to touch, to savor—finding every inch irresistible. Removing his shirt and tossing it aside, you silently hope your friend remains occupied a while longer. While you’re eager to get him home, a much more immediate need demands your attention. Xavier’s heart quickens as you hold him tighter, leaving a faint bruise on his neck. Your fingers hover over the delicate mark, desire evident in your eyes as they meet his. “Anyone who sees this will know you are mine, right?” Playfully nodding, Xavier’s features radiate warmth. Bringing your hand to his lips, he gently presses a kiss against your fingertips. “Yours and only yours,” he whispers.

He sinks into the blankets, hands embracing you tighter as he feels your teeth at his neck once more, softly whimpering as you suck. There’s no longer any need for him to resist, no reason for him to feign reluctance in giving you everything he has without inhibition. He relinquishes control, allowing his eyes to gently close, reveling in the sensation of your mouth against his body; a feeling unlike any other—just so hot and perfect. A deep, ragged moan escapes him when your fingers trail the edge of his jeans.

Clad in his hoodie, the act of unzipping his pants becomes even more tantalizing when you flash him the most endearing grin imaginable while peering up at him from between his thighs. “You remember everything I did in the game, right?” He nods, taking a sharp breath as your finger lightly teases his length. “Could you see me when I kindled your memories?” Tracing a kiss over his jeans, where your fingers playfully tickle, you await his recollections from the moments before his awakening.

Xavier’s lips part as a vivid image forms in his mind—you, breathless, head thrown back in ecstasy, an image from his No Restraint card lingering on your phone as his name escapes your lips in a breathless whisper. Your expression shifts to embarrassment upon meeting his incredulous gaze, reminiscent of the times you yielded to your desires, finding pleasure in the mere thought and vision of him. However, that sense of shame rapidly dissipates as Xavier trembles under you, his cheeks flushing at the desire evident on your face and the sound of his name on your lips as you came.

“You know, Xavier…” you murmur as your finger circles his belly button. “I think we should do a taste test, don’t you?” You granted Xavier life, and you’ll be his downfall as well. He whimpers as you free him, his heart racing when your kisses against his length cause his entire body to shiver. His breaths come broken and short as you struggle to take him fully into your mouth.

He can’t articulate how good it feels to be with you here like this. Everything he can think of to say doesn’t work, because the sheer ecstasy of your mouth and tongue on his cock is almost too much to bear. Xavier needs you. And you want him so badly… His gaze locks with yours as you take him in your mouth again, his fingers gently weaving through your hair as he props himself up on his hand. “... So-so good, bunny… s-so so…” Words escape him, replaced by a chorus of whimpers and moans, his struggle to avoid thrusting too forcefully becoming increasingly challenging. Eyes widening in surprise at your encouragement for him to seize control, he hears your desperate whisper, “Want you to use me, Xavier…” Fuck, he wants that just as badly… He yearns to hear you, to see how you react to him taking the reigns entirely. Only then does he become aware of how tightly he’s gripping your hair, a realization dawning when you whimper, prompting a breathless “... S-sorry… Are you okay?”

Laying on your stomach, your voice soft and breathless, you murmur, “More.” Even as his concern for you swells, Xavier can’t ignore his desire to fulfill your request. Tentative at first, his voice falters slightly, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of your tender kiss on his cock. “Are—Are you my good girl, bunny?” Your eyes light, widening as you nod swiftly, playfully sucking the tip of his cock with a joyous smile. “Yes, I’m your good girl, Xavier… How—how can I prove it to you?” Xavier’s words spill forth involuntarily, his heart racing as he meets your gaze. Cradling your cheek and tugging your hair gently, he whispers, “...Just like this. Open wide, and accept everything I offer you.” His tone betrays a relinquishment of restraint, a declaration that he’s taking what he wants and giving you what you’ve been begging to be given.

You’re just so needy and willing, and he can’t hold back anymore, can’t resist. Not after everything you’ve expressed and the way you look and sound right now. Clinging onto you tightly, drawing you as near as possible, he thrusts deep and hard, distorting your lovely features. He’s whispering anything that comes to mind: how beautiful you are, how good you’re being, how perfect you feel. His breaths come harder and more ragged the closer he gets. “... B-bunny.. I can’t—” he gasps, plunging himself to the hilt as his warm essence fills your throat, his cock twitching as you suck him dry. Catching his breath remains a challenge, the overwhelming sensation of how you just completely dismantled him still sinking in. The shopkeeper's gentle, knowing voice reverberates through the room, startling both of you as you swiftly cover Xavier with a blanket. “I’ll give you lovebirds five minutes to get going,” she chirps before disappearing once again.

You both erupt in giggles, sprinting breathlessly toward your car. The key is abandoned in the ignition as Xavier’s hand ventures under your shorts, unable to stifle the needy sound that escapes him upon feeling your warm, wet skin. Gentle caresses evolve into firm strokes, spreading your arousal before his trembling fingers slide inside you with a strangled moan. His breath, hot and unsteady, hovers over your skin amidst soft, messy kisses that adorn your neck and shoulder, his soft sounds betraying how badly he wants to touch you everywhere, to claim you in all the ways he needs. Your gasps grow ragged, his hum against your skin as he bites down making you unable to resist the urge to move your hips. He matches your movements with subtle thrusts into the air, his cock pulsing wildly in his pants with his release. The strangled sound that slips out as he comes drives you wild, your grip on his arm tightening unintentionally as you drive his fingers into you over and over. Xavier slips out, adding a third finger before filling you again, his quiet groan of frustration over not feeling your release yet driving you over the edge. The way it feels to have you fall apart in his hands is addicting, the need for you to know what you do to him desperate, your sweet moans and whimpers confirming he drives you just as crazy.

Thankfully you’re stopped at a light when he pulls out your next orgasm, his fingers lazily tracing through your slick folds, unwilling to part with his new fixation for even a moment. It’s astonishing how innocently he can sound as he smiles softly, his gaze fixated on the movement of his hand under your shorts, whispering, “I’m going to do such good things to you, bunny… Show you how much better you’ve made me…” His actions leave you speechless. The moment your apartment door clicks shut, he has you pushed against the wall, releasing your breasts and casting aside that tantalizing galaxy kid motif. “Maybe I am dreaming…” Xavier mumbles, gripping your hips tightly, pressing against you ever so slightly, struggling to believe that you truly belong to him. A soft symphony of gasps and whimpers fills the air as his tongue flicks over a nipple, his fingers sliding inside you, each sound and subtle movement of your body fueling his desperation for you.

He lets his body meld with yours, his eyes burning with restlessness as he caresses your neck, softly spitting onto your tongue and relishing the sound of you swallowing so obediently, musing, “You’re making it very difficult… I was trying to take my time…” He nuzzles against you, watching his thumb trace over your nipple as he groans in frustration. His gaze holds yours with so much need, his fingers rubbing your clit delicately. “Bunny, I don’t want to lose control… but…” He says this like him breaking completely isn’t exactly what you long for. His hand gently squeezes your throat, his head slightly tilted like a predator evaluating his prey when you jest, “... Oh no… looks like something broke.” Discarding your shorts and wrapping your bare form around his waist with a choked groan, he tightens his grip on your neck, planting sloppy kisses along your skin as he carries you to the bedroom. Locking onto your features as he pins you down on the blankets, he murmurs, “I was wondering when you were going to break me, but… I think I was broken the moment I met you.”

Your nails dig into his arms, your mind and body not working properly after everything that’s happened, honesty slipping from your lips in a breathless whisper, “I was ruined the moment I downloaded the game.” The words are a match to his self-composure, though there isn’t much left to begin with. His hand glides up and down your body, his fingers slipping inside you once again, his voice reduced to nothing more than a ragged breath, his touch urgent and intense. “You… feel so… perfect.” Xavier is so lost in you—the sight of you, the way you move, the sounds you make—every inch of his body hot and needy for you. His mouth skillfully guides you to climax twice before pausing to catch his breath, licking his fingers clean before reaching for his phone, a note of uncertainty creeping into his tone. “You promise you’ll stay with me? I… I don’t want to do this without you,” he murmurs, his finger poised over the “Stay” button.

Your heart melts as you whisper, “No matter what happens, I’ll stay by your side.” The message “We wish you the best of luck, Xavier” barely registers as he taps the button and tosses the device aside. Sticky from his earlier release, his cock glides messily against your folds, spreading his essence around. Thoughts of everything he wants to take from you fill his mind as he whispers, “Bunny, I’m sorry… I know you promise you’ll stay with me, but let me make sure…” He fills you completely, kissing you gently as he feels you stretch to accommodate him, a twinge of guilt flickering at your soft gasp of discomfort. But the way you yield to him, your legs parting so willingly as you greedily suck him in, is like a dream, sending waves of pure need through his aching body.

His kisses are wild and frantic as they roam across your skin. Being this close to you isn’t enough, never will be enough. “You’re so warm… and so tight… you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt…” His voice, gentle and hushed, evokes electric shivers throughout your body as he nestles near your ear with a tender nuzzle. “I’ll ruin you, bunny… I’m going to make sure that no one else can ever have you.” He pushes into you once more, needing to drive himself as deep into you as he can get, his pledge etching itself onto his soul as he gazes into your captivating eyes. “I swear to you that no one else will get to see you like this, touch you like this, no one except me…”

Gods, everything about him is driving you wild, his actions growing commanding and desperate as his thumb slides into your mouth, guiding your gaze to meet his. “Beg me for it, bunny… tell me you’re mine…” His words taper off, drawing a release from you with your whimpered reassurance that you are his and that no one- no one else gets to look at you or do things like this, making him greedy for more. “I belong to you completely… You and only you,” he vows back, the way you keep begging him for more and the feeling of how perfectly you fit together more than anything he could ever hope for.

Turning you onto your stomach, his chest molds against your back, his hand holding your throat while his other arm wraps around you, needing to keep you as close as he can. His hips push harder, your neck the ideal spot for his lips to explore as he struggles to speak. “Nothing can keep me from you. Nothing and no one,” he whispers, the delight sparkling in your eyes so exquisite it grips his heart with longing. Possessively trailing your body, he kisses you with the same urgency that his cock drives into you, his words echoing with an unyielding need. “...Bunny, please…” He plants affectionate kisses on the spots of your neck that elicit shivers, holding you tighter, his heart racing with desire as he pleads, “Say my name…” The way you murmur it sounds so beautiful and perfect that it takes his strength away, everything fading into nothing, his mind and soul consumed with the need to hear it again.

Nestling you on his lap out of urgent necessity to be even nearer, his cock fills you again, setting his heart racing faster than ever before at the sensation of you pressed against him. “Please, say it… say it again…” Your mark on his neck as you comply with his request over and over, your needy tone and tight embrace around him, like you never want to let him go… All that matters is the feeling of being with you like this, hearing you and seeing you like this, knowing that you belong to him entirely. The sensation of your whimpers and moans mingling with his fingers at your throat makes him weak for you, understanding the pleasure he can invoke in you, the way you crave his touch making him feel cherished and whole. “I want to make you feel like this is what you were made for. I’m going to love and worship and show you just how badly I need you… Until you know, with every inch of your heart and soul, you were meant for me and me alone.” Your release, the way you quiver and writhe against him, your sounds of ecstasy send him over the edge, a potent wave of bliss flowing over him, his lips locked desperately with yours as his essence fills you completely.

He melds against your back as he eases you down, sliding back into you and nestling against your neck with a drowsy, yearning whisper. “Bunny, you wore me out… I need to recharge…” Reluctant to part from the feeling of wholeness with you, Xavier’s mind and body yearn to remain close, every aspect of you so perfect he can hardly bear it. Your body slackens against him, your consciousness drifting between wakefulness and slumber. Xavier continues to stroke and caress your bare skin, his touch gentle and affectionate even in sleep. You still can’t believe this is real, that this is happening. Xavier holds you close, allowing you to envelop him just as you’ve fantasized while his adorable, sleepy self rests within you. But this is reality, not a figment or mirage, and you struggle to comprehend how lucky you are as you snuggle against him, drawing him in deeper. You can’t wait to share so many things with him—vast flower fields perfect for stargazing, more books than he could ever imagine, and places beyond his wildest dreams. Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, and you drift off, your bodies moving in sync during sleep, yearning to be close even in your dreams.

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raointean · 28 days ago

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Silmarillion Survey Essay!

My essay was due last night (submitted it with 6 minutes to spare!) and my professor said I could post it to Tumblr if I wanted to. It's divided into four sections, all marked. The first section is the introduction where I explain the point of the survey, who I studied, and why. The second section is the methods I used to design the survey, get answers, record answers, and control for variables. The third section is results, where I highlight several of the questions I thought would be most stratifying and explain what I actually found (it has graphs!). The fourth section is the discussion where I talk about what I found and what conclusions I drew from that.

I'd love to hear all of your thoughts on the results and my conclusions!

Introduction

For this project, I looked into age (and length of time in fandom, in one case) affected knowledge and attitudes about fandom language. I investigated several terms and phrases, both from fandom at large and from the Silmarillion fandom specifically. The group I studied was the fandom of The Silmarillion on Tumblr because I am intimately familiar with that internet space (and could therefore phrase the questions in a way that would be understood) and because the majority of Archiveofourown.org (a popular fanfiction website) users are also Tumblr users.

For the purposes of this paper, I am defining the Silmarillion fandom as a community of practice. The Wenger-Trayner article, “Communities of practice a brief introduction”, defines a community of practice as an entity with three parts: domain, community, and practice. The domain is “an identity defined by a shared domain of interest” (Wenger-Trayner 2). The domain in this case is The Silmarillion. As The Silmarillion is a history book set in a fictional universe, it is incredibly dry at times (there is an entire chapter titled “Of Beleriand and its Realms” which deals mostly with geography) so anyone who reads it by choice is necessarily interested in the work. The second part, community, is made up of “members [that] engage in joint activities and discussions, help each other, and share information” (Wenger-Trayner 2). Most fandoms engage in discourse/discussion, create transformative art (mostly written or visual, but I have seen musical as well) and exchange craft advice to better each other’s creative work, but due to the almost academic nature of the Silmarillion fandom, we exchange background lore knowledge, additions to Tolkien’s conlangs, translations, timelines, and character sheets in addition to the regular fandom activities. Finally, the Silmarillion fandom also has a shared practice, defined as “They develop a shared repertoire of resources: experiences, stories, tools, ways of addressing recurring problems—in short a shared practice” (Wenger-Trayner 2). As mentioned above, the Silmarillion fandom has shared resources (such as tolkiengateway.net, Nerd of the Rings on YouTube, as well as several established “fandom elders” who are happy to answer questions), stories, established characterizations for “only-mentioned-once-in-a-footnote” type characters, settled linguistic debates, and several research-oriented blogs (such as two of my own) that record niche or new knowledge about either Tolkien’s work or the fandom itself. Almost all of the above (with the possible exception of the website and the youtuber previously mentioned) is unpaid hobby work.

When doing this survey, I expected to find a rather steep difference between older and younger members of fandom regarding their knowledge of fandom terminology. I expected the 18-25 age group to be the most knowledgeable of fandom terms with the under 18 group to be only slightly behind them and the 26-30 group a slightly further way behind the under 18 group. For the groups over 30, I anticipated that the rate of knowledge would sharply decline and that older fans would be unfamiliar with fandom terminology for the most part. I was… incorrect.

Methods

There are eight questions highlighted in this paper. The first chart (Figure 1.) is the total percentage of answers that amounted to “I don’t know”, filtered by age. The first table (Figure 2.) looks at the people who did not know the term “Isekai” based on whether or not they were native speakers of English or live in Asia (given that “Isekai” is a Japanese word). The second table (Figure 3.) compares the percentage of people who mentioned that the word “angst” is also present in everyday German, categorized by German speakers and non-German speakers. The third table (Figure 4.) examines attitudes towards the anti/pro-ship terms based on age. The second chart (Figure 5.) examines attitudes towards the term “omegaverse” separated by age. The fourth table (Figure 6.) compares groups of people who could define the difference between “peredhel” and “peredhil”, separated by how long they have participated in the fandom surrounding the Silmarillion fandom. The third chart (Figure 7a.) looks at people who understand the phrase “Fëanor did nothing wrong” as a joke, filtered by age. Finally, the fourth chart (Figure 7b.) shows the percentage of people who used the phrase “tongue-in-cheek” in the 31-40 group as opposed to other age groups (that one was not explicitly asked for in the survey; I simply noticed a steep trend while dissecting the results from the “Fëanor did nothing wrong” question).

I compiled all of these questions (along with several others) in a google form as a three-part survey. The first part was comprised of basic demographic questions, the second of general fandom terms and phrases, and the third of terms and phrases specific to fanfiction of The Silmarillion. The 418 responses were recorded and examined in Google sheets, which I used to filter the demographic information for ease of synthetization.

The group I examined was people who participate in the Silmarillion fandom on Tumblr. I chose this group because I am familiar with them, because they are the most likely to be aware of these terms (due to the large overlap between Tumblr and Archive Of Our Own), and because fandom language is (to the best of my knowledge) not well studied. I was able to isolate this group by only posting the survey to Tumblr itself. Tumblr posts are only viewable to Tumblr users, so even if someone were to post a link to the post elsewhere, the only people able to access the survey would be Tumblr users. I further attempted to control by including several fandom related and The Silmarillion-specific questions in the demographic portion of the survey. Anyone who completed the demographic portion would have been well aware of the nature of the survey by the end, regardless of how poorly they understood the original survey posting. These measures, of course, did not stop everyone. I had a few respondents who submitted only the demographic portion or the demographic and general fandom portions. Luckily, due to the Google Sheets functions, such responses were relatively easy to filter out.

Results

(Figure 1. A chart observing, out of all 16,065 answers, how many equate to “I don’t know?” Under 18: 14.24%, 18-25: 5.9%, 26-30: 7.43%, 31-40: 9.17%, 41-50: 13.63%, 51-60: 7.3%, 61-70: 9.7%)

(Figure 2. A table comparing different categories of people and what percentage of them are unfamiliar with the term “Isekai”; a Japanese term which is most commonly defined as “a trope in which a character somehow travels from the mundane ‘real’ universe into a fictional one.” 23.08% of native English speakers are unfamiliar with the term. 27.07% of non-native English speakers are unfamiliar with the term. 20% of respondents who live in Asia are unfamiliar with the term.)

(Figure 3. A table comparing different categories who mention that “Angst” (defined in fandom context as “dramatic, serious, and sometimes dark”) is an everyday word in German. 12.73% of German speakers mentioned it. 1.38% of people who either do not speak German, or did not mention it in their language background, mentioned it.)

(Figure 4. A table comparing the attitudes of different age groups to the terms “anti-ship” and “pro-ship”. These terms are hotly debated in fandom. Those on the anti side of the debate define anti-ship as “being morally against abuse and pedophilia,” and pro-ship as “excusing abuse and pedophilia in fandom.” Those on the pro side of the debate define anti-ship as “puritanical and chronically online people who can’t separate reality and fiction” and pro-ship as “letting people ship whatever they want and separating reality from fiction.” Those under 18 are 4% anti, 4% pro, and 92% neutral. Those from 18-25 are 2.44% anti, 29.27% pro, and 68.29% neutral. Those from 26-30 are 0% anti, 33.67% pro, and 66.33% neutral. Those from 31-40 are 2.2% anti, 26.37% pro, and 71.43% neutral. Those from 41-50 are 0% anti, 46.15% pro, and 53.85% neutral. Those from 51-60 are 12.5% anti, 37.5% anti, and 50% neutral. Those from 61-70 are 0% anti, 50% pro, and 50% neutral (although, admittedly, there are only two respondents in that group.))

(Figure 5. A chart that shows the rate at which respondents cringed (using phrases such as “please don’t make me define this,” “oh god,” and “Nuh uh. Sorry man. Sweet baby rays good lord.”*) within their responses while defining “Omegaverse” (an erotica subgenre within fandom based on outdated wolfpack dynamics. Very popular, but also very taboo). Under 18: 16%, 18-25: 6.71% 26-30: 7.07%, 31-40: 6.45%, 41-50: 12%, 51-60: 12.5%)

*All real responses I received

(Figure 6: A chart exploring the differences between who can correctly identify the difference between the terms “peredhel” (half-elf, singular) and “peredhil” (half-elves, plural) based on how long they have been in the fandom. Those who have been in the fandom for less than a year are 31.71% correct and 14.63% incorrect. Those who have been in the fandom for 1-2 years are 71.67% correct and 10% incorrect. Those who have been in the fandom for 3-4 years are 74.44% correct and 7.78% incorrect. Those who have been in the fandom for 5-9 years are 65.93% correct and 9.89% incorrect. Those who have been in the fandom for 10-14 years are 73.85% correct and 12.31% incorrect. Those who have been in the fandom for 15-19 years are 76.92% correct and 11.59% incorrect. Those who have been in the fandom for 20-24 years are 69.57% correct and 13.04% incorrect. Those who have been in the fandom for 25-29 years are 100% correct and 0% incorrect. Those who have been in the fandom for 30-34 years are 75% correct and 0% incorrect. Those who have been in the fandom for 35-39 years are 100% correct and 0% incorrect.)

(Figure 7a. A chart observing who sees the phrase “Fëanor did nothing wrong as ironic” divided by age. Under 18: 23.53%, 18-25: 35.77%, 26-30: 36.9%, 31-40: 42.67%, 41-50: 22.22%, 51-60: 37.5%)

(Figure 7b. A chart observing the percentages of age groups who used the phrase “tongue-in-cheek” while answering the above question. 18-25: 1.84%, 26-30: 2.04%, 31-40: 9.78)

Discussion

Observing these results, I can see that, while there is some level of stratification by age and length of time spent in the fandom, it is not nearly as dramatic as I had expected it to be. These results strongly demonstrate the power of communities of practice. These people, across ages and continents, communicate so often and so deeply, that nearly all terms are understood to the same degree by everyone, and nearly everyone has similar stances on divisive pan-fandom debates.

Were I to do this study again, or a similar study in the future, I would probably narrow the purview by a lot. I would ask fewer questions (or at least, only ask questions of a single type), compare them against only one demographic question, and sincerely consider making them multiple choice. That being said, I do not regret this survey having short answer questions. There were several definitions of several terms that I never could have come up with in a million years. Synthesizing the short answers may have taken more effort on my part, but I learned a lot about my fandom.

@proship-anti-discussion (ship debate was mentioned)

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