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#like that fic for example. i'm still working on it. in fact i know how it's going to end. but i still haven't written anything.
proctor: look, i'm sorry for what i said earlier
putnam: ...and for punching me in the face?
proctor: no. you definitely deserved that.
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 months
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I had an AU, that at this point is more of a headcanon for me, that I thought you might enjoy because it's a nice mix of angst, Tim not thinking things are as bad as they very clearly are, and some fluff.
So it's pretty widely accepted that the Bats don't really know anything about Tim's days with Young Justice right? Like they might know one or two small facts, but they don't know that the gang blew up Mount Rushmore, any of the times the DEO tried to arrest them and drag them into Government Labs for experimentation, or that time they went to a Disco Themed Hell with Supergirl. They sure as hell don't know about any of the things that happened with Secret and Harm. Even though Tim would canonically be gone for days at a time (some of his adventures, mainly the one when they were gone for THE ENTIRE WINTER OLYMPICS) with no one noticing. One time they were in space and had enough time to not only go to Darksied's planet but spent WEEKS there and when they got back still not even Batman knows that Tim was even gone.
Anyways, all this to say. If Tim vanished for a month or two and just said he was spending time with Young Justice again while sending in case files and stuff to keep Bruce busy, I don't think anyone would notice. Nor would they notice if he suddenly switched from being Right Handed to being Left Handed and then after months of practice he goes back to being right handed. It's such a small change after all.
So here's the headcanon. On a Young Justice mission, something goes horribly wrong and Tim full on looses his hand. It's simply gone. The reason no one knows or notices is that he got a robotic replacement, a very realistic looking one like Roy Harper has, that he spent a few months learning how to work with and then went to physical therapy for it for years. It's just part of his life now and he thinks everyone knows, after all. How could they miss it? Jason has seen his palm open with a screw driver deep in his wires. Jason thought he was still tripping from fighting Scarecrow a few hours before. Not a single person outside of Cassie, Tim, Kon, Bart, Greta, Anita, Slobo, and Cissie knows that Tim is missing his right arm just below his elbow for almost 5 years.
That is until Tim has been up for 4 days straight and Dick says something about needing a hand with something and in a moment of sleep deprived brilliance, Tim takes off his hand, and throws it at Dick.
Yes! I love this AU/hc. There is a fic that kind of has this situation: "I told you about that... Didn't I?" by weewoow_070603. Jason is the one to find out, though.
I like the details you added in this AU that the fic (as far as I remember) didn't add: Tim being gone is a regular thing, the fear toxin with Jason, the months of physical therapy, etc.
I do think something as vital as this would happen to Tim, and he'd just forget to tell his family. At first, he tries to hide it. He doesn't want to deal with their fretting, the lectures, the scolding, and them getting involved. He has it handled, after all. After a while, he forgets that he should hide it and why he did in the first place. Then someone finds out, and he's confused why they don't know such a common place thing.
I'm also super glad you tied in all those YJ examples that you did. People tend to focus on the space baseball or Santa Clause (which I love those events too), so it was refreshing to see other events as examples.
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cleo-fox · 23 days
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Conquer
Part 2 of 5
Series Masterlist
Series Summary: The king intends to take a bride. You just never thought it would be you. (Soulmate AU where Loki won)
Chapter Summary: It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that—for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.
Chapter Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, edging, teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, orgasm delay, semi-public sex, light Dom/sub. (see series masterlist for series warnings)
A/N: I realize that the GIF I'm using for this chapter is TVA!Loki, but the attitude is very much in keeping with this chapter, so I decided to forgo accuracy in favor of thirst. Also, you may be thinking "Part 2 of 5? I thought this was going to be 3 chapters!" Me too. Welcome to what it's like being in my brain: even I don't know what's going on here.
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The wedding night isn’t the end of the sex, of course.
The immediate, sharp need for your first coupling is gone, but there’s a dull and persistent ache that keeps you coming back to his bed every night (and several times during the day). Loki is equally ravenous, if not more so.
While you’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re going to fuck him, you still don’t like being the one to initiate sex. It sounds silly, but it feels like admitting to a vulnerability that you’re not prepared to acknowledge, let alone act on.
The problem is that your sex drive has skyrocketed since the wedding.
You’ve heard about this happening—the saying soulbonds are meant to be consummated, but some are more thorough than others didn’t come out of nowhere. You just didn’t think it would be a problem for you, especially once you found out who your soulmate was. 
You were wrong about this, of course—you are constantly horny. Your mind is a cineplex of perversion, constantly playing memories of the times that he has fucked you, ways he might fuck you next, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his annoyingly perfect cock. It makes you want to run your brain through the washing machine, like a couple of Tide pods and an extra rinse cycle might fix this.
But the part that drives you crazy is that he always seems to know when you’re in these moods and he always manages to claim the upper hand. It is—like so many things with Loki—profoundly irritating.
It’s all physical—your conversations are limited to the mundane or the utterly filthy. It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that—for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.
You can feel his gaze caressing your body as you walk down the stairs to meet him. Your dress is gold and glittery, and hugs your curves while the slit sneaks just high enough that you know the fashion blogs will call it daring. You keep your eyes on your feet and your hand on the railing as you navigate the stairs in your heels. Normally, Loki would comment on that—something about how you needed proper education in comportment, you were a queen, queens don’t stare at their feet, people expected elegance, blah, blah, blah. Tonight, though, he’s silent as he takes you in, which you know means that he’s particularly enchanted by how you look. For a brief moment, you allow yourself to feel sexy and confident, to enjoy the fact that the most powerful man on the planet has been rendered speechless by how you look.
Are you ridiculously horny? Sure, but you’ve got it under control. You can hold out for an evening and you’re pretty sure Loki hasn’t figured it out. If he had, he almost certainly would have said something inappropriate when he offered you his arm. He’s probably going to be distracted by the gala anyway. Why had you ever doubted yourself?
When the two of you get into the limo, you remember why. 
The moment the door shuts behind you, Loki is pulling you close, his hands cupping your breasts and then sliding down to your thighs while his lips latch on to the spot where your neck and shoulder meet.
“What are you doing?” you ask, as though his intentions are in any way unclear.
“You need to come. I can smell you.” He’s hiking up the fabric of your dress.
Well. So much for him not noticing.
Your cunt clenches. “We’re in public.”
“Those windows are tinted and the partition is up.” His breath is warm on your neck as the fabric of your dress pools around your waist. 
“I can still wait.”
“Oh, I don’t think you can.” His fingers slip between your legs (when did you spread your legs for him?), gently grazing the gusset of your underwear, which you know is embarrassingly wet. “Soaked already,” he breathes, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. “You need to come.”
“I-I c-can—I can wait until—oh fuck.” 
He pushes the fabric of your underwear aside and lightly teases your clit with the tip of his finger.
“You can’t,” he rasps, lightly nipping at your earlobe. “You’re such a greedy, needy little thing. Your cunt is insatiable.”
He presses his first three fingers together and rubs your clit in a big, broad circle that makes your back arch.
“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flexing against the seat. “Fuck, just like that.”
“I thought you said you could wait?” he says with that mocking lilt to his voice, the one that makes you simultaneously want to punch him in the face and also ride him hard and fast and a little rough.
“Shut up,” you grit out.
He laughs low in your ear. “Oh, you don’t mean that, I know you love it when I talk you through it.”
You hate that he’s right.
“You love hearing about how tight and wet you are, how hard I am for you.” He drops his voice lower. “How hard I’m going to fuck you.”
You can’t help the quiet moan that falls from your lips.
“Yes, you love it when I talk to you like this,” he purrs. “And I love hearing what an utterly filthy, wicked girl you are.”
You whimper, despite your best efforts to keep quiet. 
“Oh, I like that little noise,” he says, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Let me hear you.”
“I hate you so much.”
You’ve said this to him before and like all the other times, he simply laughs. “Hate me all you like, darling, but you and I both know that you love what I do to you.”
You bite your lip and try to focus on the pleasure that’s rising in your hips.
“Has anyone ever made you come as hard as I do?” he muses, like he’s just making casual conversation. “From the way that you scream and beg for it, I imagine that there haven’t been very many that were capable. Your cunt has quite clearly been neglected.”
You’re going to ignore what he’s saying. That’s what you’re going to do. There’s no reason to listen to any of what he’s saying.
“The truth is that you need me, don’t you?” he says, nipping at your ear. “You need me because I know exactly what to do to sate your needy little cunt. I know exactly how to make you scream.”
You hate how close you are, hate how the impending rush of your orgasm has basically rendered you speechless, save for a few incoherent whimpers.
He brings his lips close to your ear, lowering his voice to a growl. “What would those pitiful Midgardians say if they knew their queen was such a needy little slut?”
Instead of delivering a stern rebuke, you come hard. Incredibly hard—it is arguably one of the most intense orgasms he’s given you yet, blazing through your body with a ferocity that leaves you shaking in its wake.
And he notices.
“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he purrs as he rubs you through the aftershocks. “I felt how hard you came, how utterly desperate you are for me to fuck you.” 
“Loki, please,” you breathe.
He tugs at your underwear. “Take this off.”
Your first instinct is to challenge him, but the fabric is now uncomfortably damp and you desperately need him to fuck you, so you lift your hips and slide your underwear down and off your legs without any complaint. He takes it from you and sticks it in his pocket.
You expect to hear the clink of his belt buckle followed by his silky smooth voice ordering you to sink down on his unfairly perfect cock. Even though you’ve just come, you want more. You always do with him. 
(You decide not to think too much about that last part).
Instead, though, he smooths his hair and settles back into his seat, looking out the window. After a moment, you clear your throat expectantly. 
He glances at you, utterly casual. “What is it?”
Your eyes narrow. He’s playing dumb and you both know it. 
“You made me take off my underwear,” you say, biting back a sharper reply.
“I did.”
“So…fuck me.”
He gives an amused little chuckle that makes your palm itch to slap him. “Darling, we’re in public, that would be unseemly.”
You roll your eyes before you can stop yourself. “You’re full of it.”
His gaze turns smoldering and stern. “And if you want to be full of my cock later tonight, you’ll change your attitude.”
You’re not sure if it’s the absence of underwear that makes you feel more aroused than usual or if he’s awakened some latent perversion you were previously unaware of. Possibly, it’s both.
Your breath hitches and he smiles like he knows he has the upper hand.
“Do you want that?” he says. “Do you want me to fill your tight little cunt with my big cock?”
You’re so far gone that you find yourself nodding before the thought of being contrary can even cross your mind.
“Well, then,” he says, flicking an invisible speck of dust from his tuxedo jacket, “you’re going to have to earn it.”
You huff out an irritated sigh and yank the skirt of your dress back down. “You’re an ass,” you say with a scowl.
“And you’re going to do exactly as I tell you or you won’t be coming at all.”
You stare at him, lips parted in the start of a complaint.
“And however much your pretty cunt is aching right now, I imagine it will be twice as worse tomorrow with no release,” he says. “If I’m feeling generous, of course. I could always make you wait longer.”
You close your mouth, biting back the urge to scowl.
He smirks. “That’s my good girl.”
Your cunt throbs. By the end of the night, your thighs will surely be sticky with your own arousal.
“This is unfair,” you grumble, crossing your arms and sitting back in your seat.
“Behave,” he says as you approach a rather impressive set of gates. “We’re almost there.”
A flick of his wrist sends seidr racing along your skin, smoothing your hair, straightening your dress, and fixing the smudge of lipstick at the corner of your mouth.
Your underwear remains in his pocket.
You have a feeling it’s going to be a long evening.
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The Minister for Finance is giving a presentation. You’re not entirely sure that you would have been able to follow it under normal circumstances, but certainly not with Loki’s hand up your dress.
The two of you are seated at your own table—it’s one of the more stupid formalities he insists on, though you suppose it’s advantageous in this instance. His actions are obscured by the table and tablecloth and probably a little magic, but your heart is still racing with the thrill of it. His movements have been slow and deliberate, and the result is that he’s effectively been edging you for the duration of this forty-five minute presentation.
It feels incredible; it’s agony. You love it; you hate it.
“You’re being a very good girl,” Loki murmurs to you at one point and that alone nearly sends you over the edge.
“You’re a jackass,” you whisper back to him.
He chuckles. “If you want me to let you come once we get home, I’d suggest changing your tone, my love.”
You resist the urge to scowl, but only barely. “You made me come in the limo over here because you said I couldn’t wait,” you point out. “What happened to that philosophy?”
“It was supplanted by a desire to see what happens when I tease you for several hours.” A wicked smile curls at his lips. “Besides, I love how tight and desperate your cunt feels when I make you beg for me.”
You always come hardest when he makes you beg for him. You’d never admit it, though.
“I’d think you’d be more concerned about getting caught,” you say. “What do you think that would do to your image?”
“Oh, I think it would do wonders for my image,” he says. “Attentively tending to my wife’s needs despite potential social embarrassment? It’s rather feminist of me, don’t you think?”
“Okay, first of all, that is not what femini—” Your voice cuts out as he rolls his finger in a particularly devastating circle.
“What was that, my love?” he asks, voice thick with faux concern, his true intent easily betrayed by his shit eating grin. “You seem distracted.”
You’re not entirely sure if you’re tensing your muscles in anticipation of an orgasm or in an effort to stave it off. “You’re awful.”
His voice drops. “But I’m making you feel so very good, aren’t I?”
You take a deep breath, trying to soothe the tightening knot in your belly, even as your body is begging you to rush toward it.
“Aren’t I?” His tone turns stern and you hear the implied order loud and clear.
“Yes,” you bite out.
“Yes what?”
You swallow. You’re starting to get close, closer than he’s let you get so far. “Yes, you’re making me feel good.”
He smirks. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”
You nod, taking another deep breath through your nose. Keep it together.
“I could let you come,” he muses. “Everyone’s watching the presentation. You could be quiet, couldn’t you?” His pace increases just slightly, enough for you to start to feel the tempting, shimmery tendrils of release. “Do you want that, lovely?”
It’s not a good idea, but you nod anyway. 
“I had no idea you were so filthy.” His fingers are massaging your clit more firmly and you bite back a gasp because you know it won’t be long. You’re trying to keep a straight face, but you’re struggling. You are so deliciously close.
“Are you going to come for me?” he asks quietly. He knows the answer.
You nod, not trusting your voice.
But just as you’re about to start to tip over the edge, Loki’s hand retreats and the building pressure in your hips diminishes back to that steady, throbbing ache just as the Minister for Finance concludes his presentation.
Loki is smirking like he expected this. “Ah. Unfortunate timing.”
You may kill him.
“You did that on purpose, you ass,” you hiss at him.
“Oh, you’ll thank me for it later,” he says, his voice dropping low.
You scowl at him, though you suspect he’s probably right.
You get a slight reprieve during dinner, but only in the sense that Loki’s hand is no longer up your dress. Your aching arousal remains, coating the inside of your thighs. Your heartbeat seems to be pulsing in your clit, the muscles of your cunt aching as they clench repeatedly around nothing.
While his hand is no longer up your dress, Loki continues to be as unhelpful as possible.
“Shall I let you unravel on my tongue?” he murmurs to you during the main course. “Or do you need my cock first?”
“I think you need to stop talking,” you say as evenly as you can muster.
“Whatever for?” he asks with the sort of feigned innocence that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Surely you’re not concerned that I’m going to make you come simply by telling you what I want to do to you.”
You take a slow sip of your water.
“Or perhaps that idea appeals to you?” he asks, dropping his voice even lower. “Do you want me to make you come in front of all of these people?”
There’s something about the idea that’s admittedly appealing in a taboo sort of way, though you aren’t quite sure you actually want to pursue it or if you’re just so desperate that even objectively bad ideas sound good.
“Truly, I doubt you could keep quiet,” he says. “You and I both know how much you like to scream for me and I’ve been teasing you for what, three hours now? But perhaps that’s what you want. You were about to come for me earlier. Perhaps you want them all to know what a needy little sl—ah, Stefan! So good to see you again.”
Loki has seamlessly directed his attention to the Swedish official who has approached your table. His ability to be charming and personable is irritating, particularly when he’s often been uttering absolute filth to you mere seconds before. Meanwhile, your brain has completely short circuited—your thoughts stopped being anywhere near coherent when he started touching you under the table during that presentation and your cunt is pulsing. You manage a polite smile and a pleasantly vague expression that you hope hides the fact that all you can think about is Loki throwing you down on the table and fucking you until you can’t walk straight and you’ve screamed yourself hoarse.
“You conducted yourself quite well,” Loki says softly once the man leaves. “I’d never have guessed that you’re hiding such a needy, sloppy cunt under that dress.”
You take a deep breath. “What’s to stop me from slipping off somewhere and taking care of things myself?”
His eyes flash a little dangerously and you hate how much it thrills you. “If you do that, I’ll see to it that you don’t come for a week. At least.”
You are irritated with him, certainly, but you are far more irritated with yourself for being even remotely aroused by his words.
“You’re insufferable,” you hiss instead.
Loki smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear. “We’ll see how you feel a few hours from now when I’m buried in your tight cunt.” His breath ghosts over your ear and it takes everything in you not to shiver. “I suspect I’ll find you much more agreeable. You always are when you need to be fucked.” His voice drops even lower. “And I know how much you need it.”
Your legs are shaking and you wonder how you’re going to make it through the rest of the evening.
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You almost come during the concert.
It was probably easier for them to set up the orchestra on the same stage as the presentation, but it means that you’re still sitting at the same table as before, which gives Loki more than enough cover to continue touching you. His hand is creeping back up your dress before the oboe even plays the tuning note and while he’s still going slowly, it’s been four and a half hours and your body is aching for release in a way you have rarely felt.
His fingertip skates across your clit just a little too quickly and firmly and suddenly, you’re poised right on the edge. One more stroke of his fingers, just one more slight movement and you’ll come.
It’s a split second decision, so quick you can scarcely think twice about it. You desperately want to come, but even though you almost let it happen earlier, you know that a stifled public orgasm isn’t really what you want. You want him to hear you scream—you don’t want to hold back.
And you want to be good for him. You want him to reward you for being good, you want to be his good girl—
You shake your head to dismiss that thought and grab his wrist in a silent warning. Quickly, he moves his hand away, sliding it to your knee. Your cunt shudders and aches, the pulsing throb of your arousal even stronger than before.
He brushes his lips against your ear. “Oh, very good, darling. You’ll be rewarded for that.”
“You could reward me now and take me home,” you say pointedly, though it would probably be more effective if your voice wasn’t so shaky.
He chuckles, draping his arm around your shoulders. Every so often, you’ve seen a candid photo of the two of you in People or one of the other celebrity magazines and you’re always taken aback by how normal you look. You imagine that it would be the same if someone were to take a photo right now—you’d look like just another couple cuddling and canoodling instead of…whatever it is you actually are. Soulmates who hate each other but fuck like it’s their job and the rent is due? There’s no easy way to classify your relationship, which you suppose is for the best: this is not the sort of thing that should be common enough to have its own word.
“We still have quite a bit to go.” He brings his index finger—the same one that had just been up your dress—up to his lips and closes his eyes like he’s tasting something divine. “Norns, I can taste how desperate you are.”
You cross your legs in the hope that it will alleviate the pulsing ache between your thighs (it doesn’t). “You’re not helping.”
“Of course I’m not,” he says. “I told you, I want you begging for me by the end of the night.”
“How have I not already exceeded that threshold?”
He smirks. “I like to be thorough.”
Five minutes later, his hand is back between your thighs.
“Let’s try that again,” he murmurs. “Do you think you’ll be able to resist a second time?”
Somehow, you do—and two more times after that. By the end of the concert, your heart is pounding, your legs feel like rubber, your cunt is dripping, and you’d easily sell your soul for an orgasm.
“You’re doing so well, darling,” says Loki. He’s been full of praise and filthy promises and you can’t decide if that makes it better or worse.
“Can we please go home?”
He chuckles. “Of course not, that would be rude.”
“I have a hard time believing you’re concerned about rudeness, considering where your hands have been this evening,” you say with a pointed look.
“You wound me.” He stands and offers you his hand. You take it grudgingly, your legs wobbling slightly. “Now. Come help me charm the Minister for Defense. I need him to be much more cooperative about sharing intelligence.”
The only good thing about schmoozing with Swedish officials is that Loki can’t have his hand up your dress while doing so. Even so, he still finds ways to be constantly touching you—a hand on your lower back, your elbow, your shoulder, your waist. These things shouldn’t be erotic, but he somehow manages to make them so. Every brush of his fingers against your bare skin is agony: you are burning for him.
You watch the clock tick through another hour and a half while trying not to let anyone on to the fact that you’re keen to leave. Time feels like it’s dragging—even when the event officially ends, it still takes another thirty-seven minutes for you to say your farewells and make your way out to the front where your limo is waiting.
Your legs are shaking as Loki helps you into the limo. He slides into the seat next to you and you find yourself leaning into him, unable to resist any longer.
The door shuts.
“Loki—” you start to say.
“When we get home,” he says promptly.
“You can’t possibly—”
“Oh, I can.” He pulls you into his lap. “I’ve been hard for you all evening,” he purrs in your ear, settling you so that the thick column of his cock presses hard against your ass. “Do you know how many times I nearly dragged you off to some empty room to take you up against the wall?” He brings his mouth down against your neck, teeth pressing against your skin just hard enough to almost hurt. You tilt your head to the side to give him better access, guiding his hands to your spread thighs.
“Do you know why I didn’t?” he murmurs against your skin.
“Because you make terrible choices?” you say before you can think it through.
His low laugh rumbles deliciously against your throat. “No.” His hands slip underneath the hem of your dress, fingertips skating along the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your hips roll forward almost unconsciously, your breath hitching. 
“I didn’t because I know that you need to scream for me,” he says. “Just as much as I need to hear you.” His fingertip grazes your slit. “And you know that we can’t do that properly in the car.” His finger strokes your clit and you moan. “Poor thing,” he murmurs, tracing a slow circle over the sensitive skin. “I don’t think that I’ve ever made you this wet.”
“Loki—”
“I’m not giving you permission to come yet,” he murmurs, adding just a little more pressure. “I need you to be good for just a little longer.”
You let out a whine that you’re not at all proud of as he moves his hand away to gently massage your inner thighs. “Loki, please.”
“Be good.” His voice promises pleasure and punishment and everything in between and you feel drunk with desire.
“I’ve been so good,” you say, bringing his hand back to your cunt. “Please just let me come.”
“When we get home.”
“Just once. Please.”
He chuckles and brings his lips up to your ear. “You know that I’m going to take care of you,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “You know I always take care of your needy cunt. I always make you come. You just need to wait a little longer.”
“I need to come now.”
“Think about how good it’s going to feel if you wait just a little longer.”
“It would feel good now.”
“It will feel even better in our bed.” He rolls his fingers in a slow circle on your clit. “You know it will.”
You whimper, rolling your hips with his hand.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this desperate,” he says. “I’m rather partial to it.”
“Don’t get used to it,” you grumble.
“Oh, I’d advise you watch your tone, darling,” he says low in your ear, sliding a finger inside you, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit. “I don’t want to deny you, but I may have to if you keep being so pert.”
As if to make a point, he slides another finger inside of you and you find yourself once again on the edge. You grab his wrist, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you try to hold back the rising tide within you.
“Oh, good fucking girl,” he growls and the pride in his voice makes your cunt clench hard on his retreating fingers. “You want to come so badly, but you’re being so good waiting for my permission.”
“God, this had better be worth it,” you say as you wait for the pulsing ache between your thighs to recede.
“It will be,” he murmurs against your neck. “You know it will be.” He shifts you in his lap so you face him and guides your hand to his cock. “Do you feel how hard you’ve made me? I’m aching for you.”
You rub his shaft, working your way up to catch the tab of his zipper between your fingers. He looks at you, eyes hungry, a smirk curling at his lips.
Slowly, you pull down the zipper.
“Oh you wicked thing,” he purrs, a low groan escaping him as you wrap your hand around his shaft and slowly begin stroking him. He’s rock hard and throbbing, and your hand quickly grows slick with his precome.
You lean in, brushing your lips against his ear. “I want you to fuck me,” you say, flicking your tongue against his earlobe.
He chuckles. “Are you trying to flip the tables on me, darling?”
You’re a little miffed that he figured that out so quickly. “Would that be so bad if I was?”
He laughs again. “You’re adorable.” He slides a hand along your inner thigh and back under your dress. “But I think we both know who’s really in charge here.”
Even the possibility of his hand touching your cunt has your breath quickening and your hand faltering in its rhythm on his cock.
You’re not about to admit defeat, though.
“Don’t you want to fuck me?” you say, trying to keep the quaver out of your voice. You give his cock a few long, indulgent strokes. “We’re nearly there already. All I’d need to do is move a little closer.”
He chuckles, his hand sliding up to lightly tease your folds. “I would have made you warm my cock the whole ride back,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather, “but I don’t think you could have done it without coming. You’re too sensitive.”
Your lips part like you have something to say, but all rational thought and the entirety of the English language has fled your brain and even more arousal is pooling between your legs.
Loki smirks like he knows all of this and he briefly strokes you from your entrance to your clit before withdrawing. “Ah, we’re nearly home,” he says, moving your hand away and patting your thigh before tucking himself back into his trousers. “Let’s make ourselves presentable, shall we?”
You climb off his lap and straighten your dress, but don’t even bother trying to fix your hair or makeup. You stumble out of the car a minute later, hoping that you don’t look like you’ve spent the entire evening poised on the brink of orgasm.
Loki, of course, is annoyingly put together. He wraps an arm around your waist and leads you forward.
“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you when we get to our rooms,” he says under his breath as you make your way into the foyer. 
“That had better be a promise,” you say.
“I thought we established that I’m the one who gives you orders—”
“We established nothing—”
One of his advisors—Sigurd, the same one who spoke to you in the hotel when he found you—is approaching Loki at a brisk clip.
“Your majesty—”
Loki barely takes his eyes off of you. “Later,” he says, waving a hand in Sigurd’s direction.
“Sire, it’s urgent.”
Your heart sinks. Loki stops and turns to Sigurd, eyes sharp, mouth pulled into a firm line. “It had better be.”
Despite the intensity of Loki’s expression, Sigurd looks unbothered and remarkably calm. “We received new intelligence on the matter you inquired about earlier, your majesty.”
Loki’s expression darkens and you realize with a sinking sensation that he has to go deal with whatever this is. “A moment,” he says to Sigurd before turning to you.
He lowers his voice so that only you can hear him. “Go to our rooms,” he murmurs. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 
You nod and he leans in, brushing his lips against your temple. “Be good for me.”
A thrill runs through you.
By the time you get back to your rooms, though, you’re a little annoyed. He’s been teasing you for hours and when you finally get home, he suddenly has another work thing?
It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so frustrating.
Though admittedly, he did look pretty surprised and annoyed by Sigurd’s sudden appearance. It’s probably not fair to blame him for that.
Probably.
You take your time getting undressed, mainly in the hope that it will somehow hasten his return or trick you into thinking time is passing quickly. Not that you’re looking forward to him returning for any reason other than sex. You still hate him—you just really need him to fuck you. That’s all it is.
You hesitate for a long time over the collection of silk nightgowns in your wardrobe. Should you put something on? Should you just wait naked on the bed? A silky green number catches your eye. He’d probably like that. He’s pretty predictable when it comes to that sort of thing—put on his colors and he goes feral. With any luck you won’t be wearing it for very long, but you might as well do what you can to facilitate that outcome.
You contemplate underwear and decide there’s little point, given that tonight’s set is still tucked into his pocket.
You situate yourself in the middle of your bed and try not to think about your throbbing cunt. It would be so easy to get yourself off, but you know that it won’t be as good.
You need him.
You try to ignore the thought. It’s just physical. That’s all it is. You’re on edge from being teased all evening. It doesn’t mean anything.
You wait.
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It’s late when you finally hear the door click open, followed by the tap of his dress shoes on the floor.
You sit up in bed, your eyes roving greedily over him. His suit jacket is gone and his tie is draped around his neck, shirtsleeves rolled up. You are loath to admit it, but it’s incredibly hot.
Before you can even get any words out, he’s striding across the room, eyes hungrier than you’ve ever seen them. His clothes disappear the second he hits the bed, followed swiftly by your nightgown. Seconds later, he’s on top of you, mouth seeking yours, cock pressing insistently against your stomach. Your hands are just as greedy, skimming up his back and combing through his hair.
“Have you been good for me?” he murmurs as he nudges your thighs apart.
“Yes.”
“Did you touch yourself?” he asks, his voice stern.
“No,” you say.
He knows you’re not lying and the hungry smile he gives you almost makes it all feel worth it. “Good girl,” he growls. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”
“Yes,” you say breathlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he drags his cock through your slickness. “Please.”
He chuckles as he lines himself up at your entrance. “I know, darling, I’m going to take such good care of you.”
Your cunt is so slick and sensitive from his hours of teasing that just the act of him sliding inside of you feels like you’ve reached your own personal nirvana. 
“Oh, fuck.” Your voice comes out in a whimper and your legs tighten around his waist to hold him in place because he feels so overwhelmingly good.
Loki lets out a low groan as he eases inside you, catching his lower lip between his teeth as his brow furrows. “Perfect.” He leans in to kiss you as he starts to move. His first thrust is slow but even so, it draws a whimper from your throat. He’s always felt good, but this is transcendent.
“Oh god, please don’t stop,” you gasp.
“I won’t, my love.” His voice is tender as he moves with an aching, slow precision. “Not until you’ve had your fill.”
For the first time this evening, you let down your guard. Every time he’s touched you tonight—even before the gala in the limo—you’ve had to hold back to some degree. You haven’t been able to give into it, to let yourself be completely unbound and unguarded. But now when he’s moving inside of you, you have the freedom to just be and feel and it’s exquisite. Every thrust of his hips, every reverent caress of his hands, every sigh or groan is an opportunity to discover a new kind of heaven.
“You were magnificent tonight,” he murmurs, sliding his hand between your bodies to rub your clit. “Even with my fingers playing with your pretty cunt under the table, you looked every inch a queen. My queen.”
He’s never talked to you like this before and it makes your body sing. You arch, rolling your hips with him as the building wave inside you rises impossibly high, as though every orgasm you almost had this evening is starting to arrive all at once. The tension in your hips is equally fantastic and unbearable, a supernova of sensation that may destroy and remake you all at once.
“Filthy girl, I can tell you’re getting close,” he purrs, tilting his hips so he hits the spot that makes you tremble. “You act so prim and proper in public, but it takes so very little to turn you into my perfect little slut when I get you alone.”
You are approaching the peak, the whirling center of the storm building inside you. “Loki—please, I can’t, I’m gonna—”
“That’s it, darling. Soak my cock like a good girl.”
You always come the hardest when he’s inside you and this is no exception. The pressure in your hips is suddenly and spectacularly ablaze with a shimmering euphoria that draws a raw and primal moan deep from inside your chest. You are a fountain of sparks, all the tension and desire of the evening finally reaching its apex. You have yearned for this all night and the resulting blaze is spectacular.
His pace is still slow, but Loki’s eyes are wild and you get the sense that his composure is hanging by a thread. Though his eyes occasionally flutter shut as your cunt convulses around him, his gaze is locked on you in a kind of wonder. 
“Do you have any idea how good you feel when you come on my cock?” he rasps.
Even in the throes of utter bliss, you need to hear his voice. “Tell me.”
“I would create entire worlds and walk through the fires of their destruction just to feel you come.”
You shudder out a sigh. “More.”
He picks up his pace just slightly. “I would flatten mountains and raise valleys and reverse the currents.”
“More.”
He’s hitting that aching spot inside you again and the rolling tremors of the aftershocks are starting to coalesce into another building wave. You moan and his hand moves back to your clit, slick fingers pressing and rolling in just the way you need.
His eyes shine, bright with lust as his hips and fingers work diligently to unravel you again. “I would take down the stars and bring the heavens to the earth…”
His words are making you dizzy and his movements are coaxing the pressure inside of you into a cyclone that you know is going to take you down.
“Loki, please.” These are the only words you know because your entire world is him moving inside of you, inevitable as the sunrise, the architect of the heavenly destruction and renewal that is building and building in your hips.
He shifts so his weight is entirely on his elbows, bringing his lips up against your ear so you don’t miss a single word. “I would lay my crown at your feet and forsake my name…just to feel you come on my cock.”
The coil in your hips snaps and unfurls into a starry, sparkling oblivion that has you crying out his name over and over like he’s your ending and beginning, the center of your universe. Your eyes are shut against the onslaught of intense sensation, but you can feel him reaching the blissful height he’d been speaking of. He groans and slurs out a few incoherent oaths before succumbing to you and filling your pulsing cunt with his hot release.
His mouth is on yours and he’s kissing you like he means it as he slows to a halt. You lie together for a long moment, hearts beating wildly against each other. 
This felt different than other times. There was an intensity there that had nothing to do with the sex. You don’t know what that means, other than it’s definitely not any kind of feelings for him. It must be something else. You’re certain it’s something else.
“I didn’t realize I’d be called away upon our return.” 
You’re so distracted by your thoughts that the sound of his voice startles you slightly.
“Oh, um, yeah, I figured…it seemed unexpected,” you say.
He lifts his head to look at you, green eyes intent. “Trust that there are very few things that could have pulled me away from you in that moment.”
He’s being sincere. It’s not what you expect and that scares you a little, though you can’t quite articulate why. The idea that he would care whether you thought he’d intentionally extended your wait hadn’t even occurred to you. You don’t really know this side of him. 
“So, it wasn’t like…making a proclamation designating June National Peanut Butter Month.” You know you’re deflecting, but you don’t know what else to do.
He frowns. “That can’t possibly be a real thing.”
You shrug. “It might be. Lots of governments do stuff like that. Maybe you should consider it.”
His smile is slight, but brief as he stretches and slowly eases out of you. “I will leave that to others.”
There’s a beat of quiet and you suddenly find yourself desperate to fill the silence. “What did they need to talk to you about?”
He looks at you sharply and you wonder if this was the wrong thing to say. Loath as you are to admit it, this conversation has fostered a flicker of warmth between you, a fact you only notice now because of its sudden absence.
“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he says as he rolls off of you. It’s not unkind, but it’s also not warm, and the discussion is clearly closed.
Part of you mourns the loss of that little spark of closeness, but a larger, louder part is intent on pretending it never existed in the first place.
“Suit yourself.”
You’re annoyed and you roll off the bed and go about your evening routine with a little more clattering and stomping than is strictly necessary. There’s a lump in your throat that you don’t understand and you’re full of feelings you can’t define. You eventually settle on the bed with your back facing him, glaring at the wall like he can see you.
But then he reaches for you in the darkness, his arms winding around your waist, nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck as he pulls you to his chest. And instead of reading him the riot act, you let him hold you and let yourself relax into his embrace, fingers twining around his. You sleep better like this, you tell yourself. That’s the only reason you’re allowing it. It’s nothing to do with him.
You’ve told yourself that every night since your wedding and every night, it gets a little more difficult to believe.
Next chapter coming soon
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spirk-trek · 1 month
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hii this is really random but i'm writting a paper on star trek fanfiction from the 60s/70s and i was wondering if there were any fics youd recommend? are there any like iconic, keystone fics that are really significant to the fandom? (i'm having a bit of trouble sourcing pre-internet fics)
Hi! I'll try to help the best I can but I am by no means an expert- in fact, many people who end up seeing this may have better/more information so I'll extend it to any of them to answer as well :)
Disclaimer: many of the following links contain nsfw content!!!
Here is page 1 and page 2 of what might be the first known k/s fanfic published in Grup fanzine (1974). Grup is credited as being the first Star Trek fanzine with adult content. This fic, A Fragment Out of Time by Diane Marchant was vague enough that it had to be clarified as k/s in a later edition, but the author did do so.
Spockanalia is always a good source for early fandom. It is the earliest and best preserved example of fanzine content (beginning in 1967 before the second season had even aired). I'd definitely say that makes it influential! So much more can be found on the internet archive and on fanlore. Copies of Spockanalia found their ways into the hands of many people involved in the show, including Roddenberry himself.
Gayle F is a prolific fanzine artist (one of my favorites) for k/s and is also influential to k/s writing. She was behind the Cosmic Fuck Series (yes really lol) which begins with Desert Heat (1976) in which Spock prematurely enters his second Pon Farr with only Jim available to him. This is the first mention (that I know of) of Spock's "double ridges" which are still a fanon element of his anatomy today (fanlore link here).
Alexis Fegan Black is another name to know, but is actually the pen name for author Della Van Hise. She did a lot of her work in the 80s and beyond, so I'm not sure how helpful this will be, but I think she's very influential. You may know about her licensed trek novel Killing Time (1982) because the first edition was recalled for being way too gay (changes between the two versions are best documented here imo).
Jenna Sinclair was very influential but again, a lot of her works came a little later than what you're looking for (note: ao3 does NOT have the correct dates, you'll need to find those separately).
A few more links to throw at you:
List of Star Trek Fanzines
List of Star Trek SLASH Fanzines
Captain's Log (1968)
The Crewman's Log (1967)
Spock's Showcase (1968)
Spock's Underground (1968-71)
The Sensuous Vulcan (slash zine, 1977)
Thrust (slash zine, 1978)
I hope all these links work and at least something I mentioned is helpful for you!! Good luck! I'd love to hear about your research if you're so inclined to share :)
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toxicpineapple · 7 months
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writing tips masterpost
hello to my loyal tumblr followers... i am often asked to give writing advice but usually when people ask me this i'm nooooot completely sure what to say despite having a ton of advice to give. it's such a broad question when there are so many different things i can advise on, right? so i thought i'd make a sort of writing advice masterpost where i can compile the tips that i think people specifically in fandoms could benefit the most from hearing, OR that i wish someone had told me when i was still finding my footing as a writer.
hopefully this will be helpful to you. i am putting all of the advice under a read more since this is going to be a long one. let's roll!
✬ paragraph breaks are your friend
the fastest way to get me to stop reading a fic is if i click in and see that there are NO paragraphs made and the entire piece is in a huge block of text. no matter how good your work is, i just can't read it at that point. the giant paragraph makes me get lost, i can't focus on anything... it's a huge no.
the trick is you want your paragraphs to sort of act as a guide for your reader, taking them through the story, keeping them engaged. do not be afraid to do short paragraphs! i can understand wanting to shy away from one or two sentence paragraphs for fear of not having "enough substance" in your work, but the truth is, a thousand short paragraphs is ten times easier to read than a huge block of text.
realistically, you want to have a good amount of variety in your paragraph length. variety is key. readers will notice when your work gets formulaic, and some people will like that, but for others that can turn people away from your work. but don't force it! a paragraph should end at the end of a statement, or if the paragraph is getting too long then cut off the thought and continue in the next paragraph with a transitional phrase.
as a general rule of thumb, you want lines of dialogue by different speakers to be put in separate paragraphs. you also want to avoid doing huge chunks of narration or exposition in the same paragraph as you introduce a new speaker. just make a new paragraph! no big deal. i guarantee you your reader will be way more engaged and nobody is going to come at you for doing more rather than less.
✬ make sure the reader knows who is speaking and when
you don't have to end off every line of dialogue with "she said" and in fact i would really recommend you don't. but you ALWAYS need to have some kind of indication in the text as to who is speaking, otherwise the reader can get lost.
this doesn't necessarily mean that you always have to explicitly say who is saying what, though. if it is obvious in a scene who is saying something -- so for example, a scene where there are only two characters talking OR the dialogue has some kind of phrase, statement, etc that makes it obvious who the speaker is -- then in that case you can just let the dialogue speak for itself. sometimes in writing less can be more. you disrupt the flow of a scene if you start to exposit unnecessarily when the reader could reasonably work something out for themself.
✬ "said" is your friend too
related to the last piece of advice, here's another note: don't shy away from using the word "said".
don't overuse it, either. obviously, you don't want every single line to be "he says" "she says" back and forth, especially when they might be asking questions or shouting, in which case the word "said" probably isn't all that applicable at all. but it's a nice default. if you catch yourself busting out the thesaurus, my recommendation? quit it. just use said. it's not going to hurt you and the reader isn't going to mind.
but yeah, in the event that a character is raising their voice, whispering, inquiring -- there are tons of other words you can use in lieu of said and then an adverb. it's just context-dependent, and also, you don't really want to lean too far one way or another. like i said, variety is key. too much of the same breaks immersion.
✬ if you wouldn't say it yourself, probably don't use it in writing
another related tip. look, i get it. you want to spruce up your writing with synonyms. but the fact of the matter is that a lot of these words that "mean the same thing" on paper actually have wildly differing connotations and if you don't understand what those are you're going to look kind of silly whipping out a word you just found off the internet. we can usually tell, too.
your vocabulary will naturally grow and expand as you continue to read and learn. you don't have to try and force it to seem smarter in your writing. people who can write compelling prose and dialogue without throwing in fancy words they barely understand look a lot more intelligent than people who have a thesaurus at the ready 24/7.
✬ if there's a simpler way to say it, take it
this one can be sort of style-dependent, so if it's not your cup of tea then feel free to take or leave this tip, but in my opinion, taking a whole seven-line paragraph to describe a simple action wastes both your and the readers' time.
how many times have you read a fic where the main characters are having a conversation with these long rambling paragraphs between lines of dialogue? sometimes this makes sense! if you were writing a death note fic it would absolutely make sense for light or L to be pausing every few seconds to carefully analyse their opponent's move... but that's not always the case. sometimes characters are just making small talk.
i'm not saying you can't show off. you should show off where applicable. but there's a time and place. sometimes a scene benefits more from you taking the easy way to describe something and moving on. flowery language is great, but if you're meandering too much the reader will lose interest and attention.
✬ a metaphor is useless if nobody knows what it means
writing is subjective and highly personal. write for yourself first and foremost, and use the metaphors that feel right to you -- but the best metaphorical pieces, to me, are the ones that people can understand and identify with.
you've read a story like that, haven't you? with a reoccurring theme or motif that comes back into play at the end in a way that makes you feel so satisfied and complete? THAT'S what you aim for with literary devices like that. if you write a story that nobody can understand, with metaphors that just don't make any sense -- then you haven't really successfully told a good story, have you?
i understand wanting to have a magnum opus. i think it's easy to fall into the "misunderstood writer" mindset where you want your pieces to be so magnificent that only the likeminded will get it -- but writing is a form of communication. metaphor is just another means with which we can illustrate how we feel. you WANT your readers to understand what you're doing with the metaphors, you WANT the people who step away from your story to know what you were trying to say. you don't have to be obvious, just make it good. make it something that can be reasonably drawn from the text.
at the end of the day flowery language is just flowery language. that doesn't actually make your story good.
✬ grammar intermission
(.) period/full stop: used at the end of sentences. oftentimes not used at the end of sentences in dialogue, because lines of dialogue are considered a fragment of a larger sentence. use a period/full stop at the end of a line of dialogue if the dialogue is followed up by another complete sentence. example:
"i just went to the store," he said, scratching his head.
"i just went to the store." he scratched his head.
(,) comma: used in the middle or to separate different clauses (parts/sections) of sentences. used for incomplete clauses, AKA sections of the sentence that could not function as individual sentences. also used to indicate a slight pause. example:
she reached for the ripest banana, plucking it from the bunch.
a comma can also be replaced by a conjunction like "and" or "but". example:
she reached for the ripest banana and plucked it from the bunch.
(;) semi colon: used to separate different complete clauses in sentences, AKA sections of the sentence that are related but COULD function individually as their own sentences. example:
he sighed as he looked out the window; it had been so long since he stepped outside.
not to be confused with
(:) colon: used at the end of a line that leads into or introduces another line. example:
his fingers drummed restlessly against the window sill. it was finally happening: he was finally leaving this place.
(-) hyphen: used to connect compound words like three-years-old or hyphenated surnames like jones-smith.
(–) en dash: used to indicate ranges of time or distance, like 3–4 hours.
(—) em dash: a girl's best friend. slash j. but an em dash is used to indicate a few different things: an abrupt end to a thought or sentence, a "cut-in" where you interject something tangentially or unrelated before returning to the original thought, or a diversion in the sentence/thought. examples:
"no, listen, you don't understand—"
he scowled—an ugly look on his usually handsome features—and told her to be quiet.
it's not like she had wanted it to go that way—but when had it ever mattered what she wanted?
(()) parentheses: used to add additional context, information, or a semi-unrelated thought that would break the flow of an ongoing sentence without completely taking the reader out. example:
"no, i'm sorry. i just forgot to call you this morning," he said, looking away. (in truth, he'd sat by the phone for fifteen minutes trying to psyche himself into it, but hadn't been able to muster the courage.)
✬ show don't tell, and tell don't show
show don't tell is one of the classic pieces of writing advice that i do, often, think is correct -- but it's a little more nuanced than just never telling your readers what a character is thinking. you want the work to speak for itself without you implanting messages or themes into the reader's brain. at the same time though you don't want them to be doing too much work because it breaks immersion.
this ties into what i was saying above about simpler being better sometimes. you want to be concise especially in scenes that might call for it. a fight scene should be quick and snappy. no need to dig into the physical sensation of being enraged -- just say the character is pissed! but if a character is having a meltdown or panicking, you can get SO much more out of describing how that feels than just outright saying it.
✬ remember your perspective
another huge thing with show don't tell is that you don't want your character to be able to objectively say what everyone else is thinking and feeling -- unless that makes sense for them within the context of the story. really dig into it. DOES the character have a reason to know what their opponents, friends, etc are thinking? how well do they know the other characters? how attentive are they to the emotions of those around them?
it's better to focus on descriptions than labels in that case. say what face a character is making, describe their body language or tone. your character can have impressions, just make it clear that those ARE their impressions. and let your character be wrong! they do not have to be a completely objective source of information.
✬ when it comes to representation, if you aren't confident you can do it well, don't do it at all
i'm one of those people who's kind of of the opinion that white or cishet or otherwise systemically advantaged people have no place being the loudest voices in conversations about representation, least of all AS the representatives. if you are someone with systemic privilege and you choose to portray someone who is oppressed -- that's not necessarily a bad thing. but you need to be willing to do your research and have a sensitivity reader, and you have to be ready for people to say you did it wrong.
not much else to be said about that. your voice on the matter isn't actually all that important. there are people from the demographics involved who DO have stories to tell about themselves that will be MUCH more valuable than your perception of them, so it's honestly better to just let them tell it. that's how i feel.
✬ don't break the rules unless you know how to follow them. in other words, your rebellion should be obvious
a lot of times i see people breaking grammar or other rules and citing "stylistic" choices as their reasons why. which is all good and well, to an extent -- but you want it to be very clear that you ARE breaking the rules on purpose in a way that adds to the artistic merit of your piece.
if you don't know the rules, then it really just comes across like messy work. you both have to know how to apply the rules, and also how to break them in a stylistically significant way. if it doesn't make sense for the rules to be broken, if it says nothing... it's honestly better to just follow them. that's my take.
✬ don't be scared of names and pronouns
i said before that you want variety in your work, and that is very very true -- but it's also true that certain words like names, pronouns, etc will sort of blend into the background in writing. people don't notice them. that means if you're using a name or pronoun a lot in a scene to make it clear who exactly is being referred to...
hey. look into my eyes. breathe. it's okay. you do not have to resort to highlighting arbitrary characteristics of the characters. i know. just breathe. it's okay. use their names. they have them for a reason. it's all good.
this isn't to say that you SHOULDN'T do that, just do it when it makes sense to. if height is something the characters are noticing then use "the shorter boy". if age is relevant, eye colour, hair colour, whatever -- go ahead and use them. but don't be excessive with it. i should not be having to read the bluenette more than i'm reading shuichi's actual goddamn name.
✬ read
this is the huge one. reading other works informs your writing. it teaches you skills and tricks you can use. it helps expand your dialogue and your world view. it might even highlight to you things you do too much of in your own writing. read, all the time, whenever you can. it doesn't have to be books. it can be fanfic, articles, whatever -- just keep reading, because you will be passively absorbing knowledge during that time and it'll help you grow as a writer.
✬ practice
BOOOOOO TOMATO TOMATO TOMATO! SHE SAID THE THING SHE SAID IT!
but listen, it's literally just true. i write almost every day for at least a couple of hours and i have been on a trend of consistent growth for the past five years. go read my fics from 2019 if you don't believe me. i've grown fast and i've grown constantly. you just DO grow through constant practice, even if it doesn't always seem that way.
not only that, but you start to build confidence too. writing a lot helps develop those muscles to a point where you start to realise that you ARE that good and you DO have that dawg in you. or whatever. you just have to keep at it. you're not going to magically improve thinking for six months about how you want to be a better writer without practicing anything about it.
✬ yeah, betas are good
you want to have a good editor. i know that that can feel like having someone ELSE be the reason your piece is good, but that's genuinely not it. a beta reader is a second pair of eyes on your work, someone who can tell you about the issues and mistakes you're missing. they'll tell you when something doesn't make sense. they'll point out your punctuation errors. you don't NEED to have a good editor for every crummy little oneshot... but it's good to have one.
✬ numbers are fine and all but don't compare yourself to other people
i think almost everyone in some kind of creative pursuit wants to get some kind of acknowledgement for it. we want to be the best we can be, and it can be discouraging to receive utterly no validation along the way! i get it!!
just don't get caught up in crunching the numbers. you are not as good as your fanbase is. you alone know your skillset and you absolutely should not say "well this other writer got THIS much attention" because that'll just wear you down. it really will. external validation will only keep you going for so long, and you'll always end up needing more. you HAVE to build your own personal confidence first or you'll crash and burn.
✬ read your writing out loud
there is no quicker way to see if something is wonky in your prose than reading it out loud and seeing if it makes sense verbally. i highly recommend this to anybody who struggles with sentence flow. it's a good one.
✬ yippee hooray!
🥰 and that's what i've got for now. thank you if you made it this far, please take all these tips as you will, it is all subjective of course, these are just the tips that help Me the most when i sit down to write something.
please feel free to ask me for additional advice (on specific topics if you could!) at any time, i love encouraging new writers and i am passionate about writing so i will gladly offer support in any way i can, including beta reading works for anybody who might need that.
take care now 💖
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howtodrawyourdragon · 3 months
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The Post In Which I Deduce How Old Baby Hiccup Was When Valka Disappeared
You know, in order to write this Httyd Retelling, I have to do some preparing. I have to collect plot points for future storylines, keep certain canonical facts in mind and take a closer look at certain scenes.
Like the flashback scene in which Valka gets taken, for example. Because that'll be a vital scene for the prequel-type fic that I'm currently working on.
And I don't think I've ever realized how truly young Hiccup was when his mother was stolen from him. And I'm not talking about how he was a baby, because that fact is obvious.
I'm talking about how it's possible he was barely 6 months old.
And there are a couple of things about the flashback that point to this.
When Cloudjumper finds Hiccup and appears to play with him, I notice that Hiccup is:
Laughing
Grabbing Cloudjumper's wing talon
Clapping once (which could be a fluke as he is waving his hands around wildly)
Appears stimulated by Cloudjumper's attention and actively seeks interaction
Now, the laughter I won't waste much time on because I don't really see it as an indicator. On average, it starts as early as 4 months, but in my experience that highly depends on the child. I've seen a 3 month old laugh, I've seen kids not start laughing until they were almost 1.
Points 2 through 4, though, are much more interesting as what Hiccup is exhibiting is actually not "true" play, but rather hints that Hiccup is still actively learning to interact with the world around him. This may seem strange for people who don't interact with babies and toddlers on a daily basis, but children actually have to learn to play and this starts by interacting with the world around them.
Putting a variety of things in their mouths, sucking on things, grabbing things (like Cloudjumper's talon), shaking things, etc. This is usually how a baby between ages of 4 to 6 months old begins to learn how to play.
You can try to offer toys to a 3 month old, but chances are they won't do anything with it or even react much too the toy at all. Older than 6 months old, it's possible you can see them actively pick what interests them to inspect rather than simply put whatever they've been giving in their mouths.
In my personal experience, it's not until around 4 months old when babies start to show interest in the things around them. (Which doesn't mean you shouldn't try to stimulate your child by at least offering a toy before that time, we do.)
Something else of note in this scene is:
Hiccup can't sit up
No teeth
Hiccup simply lying there swaddled in a cradle is actually a big indicator that, not only is he not sitting up yet, but he doesn't appear capable of rolling over.
And if you think "Oh! but that's because he's swaddled in furs!" Wrong! Babies of any age are surprisingly determined. If a baby wants to roll over, they will fidget their way out of the swaddle and roll over. In no good conscience would Valka or Stoick leave Hiccup in a cradle unattended if this child showed signs of rolling over.
Now babies can start rolling over as soon as 4 months. (If you know what that looks like, it's quite an endeavor, takes a lot of manuevering, which the previous unattended Hiccup didn't appear to be doing)
And I know you may be thinking; "doesn't that mean Hiccup is younger than 4 months in the flashback?" I don't think so simply because of how he reacts to Cloudjumper, whose attention and stimulation he actively seeks out. Rather, I actually think Hiccup is a little bit of a late bloomer physically.
He was canonically born prematuraly, to the point that his mother feared he wouldn't make it. And often when a child is a late bloomer physically, they actually usually end up ahead of the other kids in other areas. Like mentally, verbally, or with their finer motor skills.
In my experience, children who can walk by the time their first birthday comes along, take longer to even begin to start talking. (which takes the form of making sounds. Not forming words, but voluntarily making sounds)
Meanwhile kids who are barely crawling by their first birthday are usually already showing signs of forming words (usually done by trying to repeat sounds they hear others in their life say) and verbally responding back to the people in their life (though through sounds and not actual words)
Being late in his gross motor skills while actually excelling in his finer motor skills and speech seems in line with the Hiccup we know and love. Even between the ages of 15 and 18, he still appears to be a bit of a late bloomer. The example I'm thinking of is how he can work years in a forge, yet struggle to pick up a single weapon versus to 3 years later when he's a swordsman himself and picks weapons up with no problem now.
That brings me to the lack of teeth.
On average, babies will begin to teeth between the 4 and 7 months old. From my personal experience, it tends to start much closer to 7 months than the minimum 4 month mark. I've even looked after plenty of children who didn't start to teeth well beyond the 7th month mark. (even had one who didn't start teeth until they were almost 1 and then suddenly got multiple teeth in at once.) Hiccup has no teeth.
So lets line all of the evidence up.
In the flashback, Hiccup:
Actively seeks interaction with Cloudjumper
Actively interacts with the world around him, but doesn't know play yet.
Responds positively to Cloudjumper's stimulation
Doesn't yet appear to even try to roll over
Has no teeth
And all of these points point to the very likely scenario that Hiccup was only 4 to 5 months old when he and Stoick lost Valka.
4 to 5 months old.
That's hella young to be losing your mother, a terrible time to lose your wife and mother of your very young child and, honestly, a terrible time for a mother to have her abduction be preceded by watching her premature son and her husband almost die due to her lack of actions.
I realize that I'm ending this post with a hot take, maybe even an unpopular opinion, but as it already takes months for a parent who gave birth to feel somewhat normal again even without breastfeeding their child... No wonder Valka, in this highly sensitive and vulnerable time, internalized that both Stoick and Hiccup would've been better off without her.
Valka, who:
Was still on month 4 after her pregnancy, meaning her hormones would've still been all over the place
Had to breastfeed with a lack of better options at the time, meaning it would remain that way for quite a bit
Had a traumatic labor that involved nearly losing her son
Her son who was born much too early, which would come with complications (right down to getting him to eat at all, for example)
Almost watched Hiccup and Stoick die in a fire right before she got abducted by a dragon, which would've meant hours if not days or weeks of believing she was going to get eaten
Doesn't mean she just gets to stay away for 20 whole years, but it definitely puts a different perspective on her sudden departure from Hiccup's life.
Everyone in the Haddock family was hurt that day. Though, the biggest victim of all was that literal 4 month old boy.
Video from SoloMinike-Movies & Shows scenes HD for reference.
youtube
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vaguesxrrow · 25 days
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Hello! Love your Edwin works!! Anyways, can I request a Edwin x alive!reader or ghost but they appear to be aloof 24/7 but has a soft spot for him, like it’s a complete opposite personality of them. For example they get flustered when they’re near him or being teased by him etc. It could be HCs or in fic form. Thanks in advance! -🖤
HELLOO loved this req ty sm, here u go xx
edwin / reader - soft spot
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a/n: tried my best to not make reader seem mean, just detached but still kind
tags: gender neutral reader, alive reader, aloof reader
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- you meet everyone when you move in to jenny's butcher shop
- really, you chose the place because jenny herself seemed about as non-invasive and private as you were - you just wished she'd warned you about her two (four, counting the dead ones) other tenants
- first, you met niko and crystal as they were exiting niko's room, both sipping tea from pink cups
- they were nice and all, but your responses were terse as they tried to break the ice
- niko asked you where you were from, you gave the vague response of "not far from here", and she then started talking about japan before remembering a detail she thought crystal would like
- you took that opportunity to slip into your room and lock the door behind you
- later, crystal and niko would tell edwin and charles about their new neighbour:
- crystal: they seemed... aloof. didn't seem very interested in small talk.
- edwin, of course, found this a bit suspicious and had to investigate
- what he didn't anticipate was you being able to see him as he walked through your wall while you were unpacking
- you startled when he stuck his head in through your wallpaper
- "i'm sorry, are you lost?" you exclaimed. "in what world is it acceptable to just- oh."
- your voice kind of gave way at the end as edwin fully stepped inside, an excuse already on his lips
- your first impression was god, he was cute
- of course, you already knew about ghosts from your near death experience; besides, it was hard not to notice them, as they seemed to walk through things very often without thinking. so you weren't fazed.
- in fact, you were the opposite - you smiled at him and asked his name after introducing yourself, still a bit breathless
- edwin was such a pretty name, you thought
- "so, uh... is this apartment building one of your usual haunts?" you cringed at the pun
- the corners of his mouth quirked upwards, but only briefly. you wondered how he would look laughing
- edwin, on his part, was also rather taken by you
- edwin: i must say, i find myself rather charmed by your unexpected friendliness
- you were nothing like the description crystal and niko had given him, and he would tell you so
- for the first time in your life, you would feel warmth rise to your cheeks
- "same.. i mean, it's nice to have a neighbour as cute as you-" you cut yourself off, even more embarrassed
- imagine edwin cocking his head to the side, eyebrow raised but otherwise silent, which just makes you ramble more to make it less awkward
- "it's just nice to have neighbours in general, and uh, i should really start organising so it isn't such a mess the next time you're over..."
- your rambling benefits you in the end, because edwin excuses himself with the promise he'll definitely be over again - this time arranged in advance
- did you just score yourself a date? who knows.
- as he leaves, he would definitely call you "interesting" and tell you he looks forward to talking in the future
- when he returns to his friends, he would tell them that you seemed completely pleasant and maybe even a bit alluring
- charles would definitely check him over for any signs of a hex, but it becomes apparent to all of them that he really just has a crush on you
- after you meet charles, too, he would definitely tell edwin, "everyone likes me eventually, but when is eventually going to happen with [name]?"
- edwin: they seem perfectly amiable to me. very thoughtful, too
- charles is stunned, because your first meeting consisted of you just staring at him as he explained he was best friends with edwin, leaving him with a "that's nice," and a pointed look as you left
- ofc there are many more moments where crystal, charles, and niko look at you around edwin and think, "what the fuck?"
- eg: after a few months of you living there, and after you've become accustomed to the town, edwin asks for your help on a case as it happens to be related to a library you frequent
- he approaches you together with crystal, niko, and charles
- you agree to helping with a small smile, touched that he trusts you enough
- when you traipse to the library, edwin teasingly asks, "so, is this one of your usual haunts?"
- you choke at the reminder of your tactless first attempt at flirting
- charles, niko, and crystal are a bit speechless at your reaction, to which you half glare at them and say "it's nothing."
- overall, though, everyone thinks it's cute that you're so flustered by edwin. at first, they're really just cheering for edwin to find a healthy relationship, but eventually everyone sees how good you two are for each other
- and you are - edwin sees how, despite your disinterested demeanor, you are a kind person and care about him a lot, your affection going beyond him being the only one to actually make you laugh
- he loves you just as much, by the way, and would be the first to vouch for your character as well as the first to greet you, with a hug and a cheek kiss
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perpetualexistence · 15 days
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Alenoah Hypnosis Corruption AU, where after Alejandro hears Noah call him an 'eel dipped in grease', Alejandro makes a deal with Noah... If Noah lets Alejandro hypnotize him into not saying the truth about Alejandro to anyone again, then Noah won't get eliminated... However if Noah refuses to get hypnotized, then Alejandro will hypnotize Owen instead, after Noah's elimination... Noah hesitantly agrees to be placed in a trance by Alejandro... Alejandro tells the hypnotized Noah to be loyal to Alejandro! 🍥
So, funny story anon. I don't really have any more ideas I could add to this lovely idea you've presented...because you've accidentally (I hope) recreated the wheel.
You've also accidentally awoken the essayist that has realized she has the opportunity to share things she knows. So, with that in mind:
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(I don't mean for Lisa to be mad. I am genuinely excited to share these things with people who potentially don't know them. I just couldn't find a better meme.)
Feel free to read under the read more for fanfic recs followed by my own personal thoughts about the Alenoah hypnosis corruption and why I love it so. I'm basing my knowledge on what I've seen on Tumblr and on Ao3. If you feel like I've missed anything, please let me know!
First the elephant in the room: the horny fics.
Yes, the earliest examples of Alejandro using hypnosis on Noah were smut. No, I'm not about to link them for what I would hope to be obvious reasons.
To be clear, I've got no problem with people who do have hypnosis as a kink. Everyone's allowed to have or not have a kink so long as it doesn't hurt anybody. To each their own so long as consent's involved.
The problem only starts when you do things like bringing minors into the mix. For what, again, I hope are obvious reasons.
Hypnosis is something that can be used as a great plot device when used for non-horny reasons too, and that's the context we're looking at them here.
So now onto the more palatable dark, horrible things you can do with hypnosis! /aff
The one who started the most recent trend was Creative_Creatures with their fic To Reach New Heights. It's a NoCo fic they started in November 2023 and was discontinued in April 2024.
Alejandro tricks Noah into letting himself get hypnotized, and Noah starts getting more and more corrupted as he grapples with his sense of self and the version of himself Alejandro is imposing on him. Cody starts noticing something's up, and Alien Cody also gets involved in the plot.
There are some moments of OOCness that the author has admitted to. They've also stated that they no longer like the work, hence the fic being discontinued. However, I still think it's worth checking out at the very least as a fic to learn from. It still deserves the credit for being the first to try tackling the subject, even if the result didn't end up as expected.
After Creative-Creatures came Total-drama-brainrot, aka Ophe. For Ophe there's actually a linear timeline for how their fic, Snap, Crackle, and Pop, came to be.
The seed started on January 14th, where Ophe made a stray comment about how the fandom doesn't really address the fact that Alejandro hypnotized Owen, and received a response regarding the negative side effects of hypnotism that Owen could have hypothetically dealt with: https://www.tumblr.com/total-drama-brainrot/739512421490835456/i-was-thinking-more-along-the-lines-of-how-messing
About a month later, Ophe made a seemingly random ask regarding how one would write hypnosis. I may or may not have a footnote in this history as I made a comment regarding To Reach New Heights: https://www.tumblr.com/total-drama-brainrot/741634477880754176/how-the-fuck-am-i-supposed-to-write-hypnosis
A day later they unleashed Snap, Crackle, and Pop, a fic where Alejandro convinces Noah to make a bet regarding hypnosis, and takes advantage of Noah's forced compliance from then on. Though Noah is by no means helpless and finds his own ways to fight back.
The fic only has three chapters written so far with no clear idea of when the next chapter will release. Still, I highly recommend it for the writing and the exploration of the concept.
About a week later, Ayawilliams came into the picture. For those of you who don't know who Ayawilliams is, I'm going to assume you're new to the fandom. In which case, hi! Glad to have you here! They've been shipping Alenoah as far back as 2016 on Fanfiction.net from what I can tell. This was way before it started taking over as the main ship in 2021. They're still consistently writing fic every few days, and through all of this have made a name for themselves on AO3.
If you look through the comments for the first chapter of Snap, Crackle, and Pop you can see that AyaWilliams definitely did take note of the hypnosis fic, and of To Reach New Heights. Almost a week later they delved into their first foray into hypnosis fic: Passive. (Though the main inspiration for the fic is credited to a role-reversal genderswapped fic called Hexxed by lonelybrachiobrute (triceratroops)).
Passive's a role reversal one-shot where Noah is actually the one hypnotizing Alejandro to be better at the competition for just a small, tiny price.
AyaWilliams liked the idea so much they made a sequel fic set in the same universe during the London episode called Unrecognized Yearnings.
The hypnosis trend of fic came full circule on March 5, 2024 when AyaWilliams wrote A little persuasion. After London, Alejandro threatens Noah into letting Alejandro hypnotize him or else he'd do it to Owen.
Since that fic, there haven't been any new additions to the hypnosis trend for Alenoah.
Which I think is a shame, because I do rather like hypnosis as a plot device. It's a branch of mind control that needs one party to trust the other in order for it to work. It's an exploration of power dynamics, and how they can be exploited and taken advantage of.
And although none of these fics explore it, I also like considering the other side of hypnosis. With the idea that the trust is warranted, and the hypnotizer uses a power that could so easily destroy and corrupt to instead help the hypnotizee achieve a state of calm and peace they didn't know was possible. Or to help them work past their own inner demons by detaching in a safe way, with the ability to ground themselves to come to a better understanding of themselves.
Or as another, more specific, certainly not something I have in mind for one of my own AUs example: Having Alejandro who starts off with using hypnosis merely to get what he wants from people, only to transition as he grows as a person to use it to do something like bring a certain cynic out of a dissociative state induced by personal trauma. And possibly becoming open to the idea of allowing said cynic that same amount of power over him, creating a more balanced relationship founded on trust between the two.
But you didn't hear that example from me.
Hypnosis can be used in multiple ways, and how specific characters use it and react to it speaks so much about who they are as a person. Every way is neat, and I hope to see more of it!
Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.
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ya-zz · 5 months
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Hii! I love your work and I'm a recent follower, so I wanted to request something a little selfish for me! If it's okay, and if you're willing, could I have some headcannons with Ramattra, Genji and Lifeweaver with a deaf!reader? I'd love to hear your thoughts about how quick they would pick up on sign language, and maybe reader giving them a cute allias in sign language? Per example, instead of signing Genji ’s name letter by letter, I would simply sign "My Dragon". Again, this is an extremely specific request so if you choose to pass it on, it's completely okay! Much love to you 🌺
This was such a cute thing to write, selfish or not. I don't really see many fics or hc's out there about this sorta thing, so I am glad to write this! Hope this is what you were looking for! ♥
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RAMATTRA
Ramattra never knew why you didn’t speak to him, only when someone mentioned that you couldn’t hear him did he realise the issue. 
It also explained why you never answered him. You didn’t even know he was talking.
He researched how to apologise so he could have some peace of mind. He wasn’t mad, but he did wish someone would’ve told him sooner.
He searched for any module possible to instantly talk to you. 
However, there was the issue of finding the right module. 
With the many variations of sign language, he had to find the one that matched yours. 
It took some time, but when he found the correct module, he was practically fluent in sign language, though he was still slow at talking. 
It warms his circuits the moment he first signed to you and you smiled with a sparkle in your eyes. 
His joints weren’t used to doing intricate hand signs, but over time, he got used to it. 
Day after day he would sit with you to learn how to sign efficiently. 
It was a learning curve to him, one he was grateful for as you were the one teaching him.
He was advancing in a way he had never imagined, especially with a human. 
One day while signing with him, having what seemed like a normal conversation, you had signed something he hadn’t seen before. 
It took his processors a moment to work it out and when he realised what you had signed, he chuckled, signing “thank you” towards you with a tilt of his head. 
“My omnic”.
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GENJI
You had been responding to the ninja fairly well, but when you didn’t respond to his callout once, he wondered if you had ignored him. 
He approached you, a little cautious in case you were annoyed at him, but when he realised you were constantly looking at his lips, it clicked for him. 
Genji was close to you, figured you were just the quite kid, but being deaf was something he hadn’t thought about. 
He spent that night researching and practising sign language.
It was a slow process for the ninja; he was always too distracted, but he picked up words and phrases to impress you. 
Maybe a month went by before he finally managed to say a full sentence without any mistakes, but the fact that he was trying was enough for you. 
After awhile, Genji would try to learn more.
He would take online classes to make sure he was doing the correct hand movements; that he was making sense. 
Sometimes he would mess up, but that was okay.
The ninja spent his free time learning full sentences, eventually leading up to a full conversation with you.
It made you warm with happiness that he went through the effort to learn something new. 
Sign language was hard, and with Genji being constantly distracted, it only made it slower to learn and he was several months in to learning. 
Though, when you signed something to him that he had never learnt, he stumbled, thinking about it for the rest of the day before he researched what you had said. 
A genuine smile appears on his face when he learns what you called him. 
“My dragon.”
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LIFEWEAVER
Niran had some knowledge of sign language prior to meeting you.
When he heard you were deaf, he was excited to speak to you, though his speech was limited. 
Seeing him interact with you was comforting, even if he did get embarrassed about his mistakes. 
He would spend most of his nights practising, relearning what he already knew and focussing on his weaker points.
Niran would always go to you for help, wanting to know if he’s signing right and what he needs to work on. 
It was like you were a tutor to him, one he felt comfortable around. 
When he wasn’t working on his biology and science, he would study some more.
There was always room for improvement. 
His mind was taken up by you, the want and need to impress you, no matter how many mistakes he made. It was all apart of the process.
Everything was going smoothly. His nightly studying was paying off and he was starting to fully understand conversation.
It only took a couple months for him to be fluent, the perks of being a fast learner but also sticking to a regime.
There was the odd occasion where he would mess up, but even you wouldn’t lie that you did it too.
He was fond of your presence, much like you were fond of his.
Niran was surprised when you signed a different name for him, one that made his cheeks flush the same pink colour.
“My lotus.”
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olderthannetfic · 1 year
Note
i was listening to the fanficmaverick podcast episode you did on fanfiction history, in which you mentioned (~55 min in) that you were one of the main people writing the terms of service for AO3 and bringing up the types of "would this be allowed" test cases, that these were not "oh it's a slightly problematic kink" but "violent snuff porn of gillian anderson, not scully, but gillian anderson" — and that you all eventually landed on "kinda gross, but legal in the US, and therefore would host." question: was this the most contentious case? any other memorable/notable test cases, or other interesting discussions you can remember?
i'd also love to hear more about how the major archive warnings were decided on — on what basis were these chosen? which others were considered? — if you happen to know!
sincerest thank you for all the work you've done for fandom and the preservation of fandom history. ❤️ seriously, such a feat, and so interesting!
--
I think even then my personal level of wallowing in annoying wank or looking at horrifying fic was vastly higher than everyone else's, so this was pretty much the example we looked at.
Though, if you want to laugh, astolat's original post is still up on LJ with the comments, and there were totally people going "I'd be interested in this new archive project, but not if it includes RPF!" or "Not if it includes any underage fic at all!" etc.
--
On usenet in the 90s, there was somebody or somebodies who were reaaaaally into that specific type of snuff story. I remember noticing how many of them involved not only hangings but very specific imagery of one high heel falling off. I was 13, so I really couldn't tell you if it was one dude with a specific fetish or genuinely super widespread. But it made an impression.
The alt.sex.stories hierarchy was a wild time.
Anyway, in practice, badwrong RPF of female celebs that sounds like it's aimed at straight dudes ends up on fetish sites for whatever the fetish is, not on fic archives for the most part, but I thought it was a useful example because it was so far into actually offensive to AO3y types. We're not talking the weaksauce shit people are always asking me about on here like "Oooh, what if someone posted [bog standard slash trope] to AO3?" as though it's a gotcha.
--
Man... were there other test cases? I'm trying to remember. This was all in like 2008, and of course, I didn't keep internal documents when I left OTW. Not that half of this was stuff I'd have had documented on my computer anyway.
My memory is that the general shape of the content policy had been decided by the founding Board before Content Policy started up. I don't think we were actually making the ruling on RPF ourselves.
I'm pretty sure most of what we were up to was looking at wank and trying to determine how to head off shitty behavior with the ToS. Trying to define harassment is a mega pain in the ass, let me tell you.
One major internal wank there was was deciding whether to allow Original Work. I was the one who'd been in anime fandom, and I was very used to archives that have an original section, often for the "original slash" and "original yaoi" that had nowhere else to go at the time. (These days, you'd just become a "m/m romance" author, as I in fact have.) Fanfiction.net had spun off its original years ago at that point, but a lot of the non-English archives and a lot of the archives in other parts of English-speaking fandom found fannish-but-original to be a normal thing.
I am a grudgy bitch, and I am still not over how much pushback I got on this.
AO3 went live with a ban on original work, but the policy never ended up being heavily enforced. We waited to see what would happen with posting, and it was predictably that people from those backgrounds outside of US Media Fandom posted some original without even thinking it might be banned, but they didn't post so much it overwhelmed the archive.
The big fears had been that #1 people would flood AO3 and drown out the fic. This was predicated on the idiotic notion that original = inherently not fannish, so there's no dividing line. In reality, the people who were used to posting original to fic archives had an internal sense of what belongs and what doesn't. Fear #2 was that people would try to post chapter 1 of a commercial story and then go "See here to buy the rest". Little did we know that this would soon be a problem with fucking fan fiction itself. (Also, commercial spam was always against the rules and needed no extra anti-original work rule.)
People didn't just disagree with me: they looked at me blankly.
Pretty sure I vented about this on that podcast too though. Anyway, most of the shit people find contentious now was already decided before we started writing the ToS, I think... though I don't really remember clearly. We were more looking to plug up holes in the rules that nitpicking trolls could use to harass.
The kinds of things we were deciding were often like the policy that AO3 doesn't necessarily tell you if someone reported you. If they need info, they'll contact you, and if they decide you broke the ToS, you'll hear about it, but obviously bogus reports don't get passed on. This is to remove the temptation to use the team as a proxy to harass a target. An official e-mail, even if it's "You're fine, actually", can be disturbing.
--
Re the warnings themselves, I know I'd done a survey of what archives were out there at the time and had come up with a list of a few dozen. This was early on in OTW's development process, not just for Content Policy. You can still find the list somewhere on that LJ group. Anyway, for the ToS writing, we looked at the commonplace warnings from archives past, which were basically character death, character death, and also character death.
It always cracks me up when people are like "Um, rape makes sense, but how dare they downplay these other bad things with a character death warning?" Old fandom places were full of unwarned for rape, but woe betide the person who posted surprise character death of a main ship!
We needed an under-18 warning because we had a lot of Australian fans who were like "Dude, my government is a bitch, and I cannot use this archive at all if I can't filter that out". Past archives had mostly just banned it entirely or been full of death eaters raping teenage Harry Potter characters with nary an underage warning in sight.
I don't remember why we picked the violence one. It really wasn't common, but maybe we wanted to make a philosophical point that sex doesn't have more cooties than violence.
CNTW was a compromise with older fandom standards where people objected to literally any warnings existing. A lot of the really oldschool warnings debates aren't about which ones you should have but about whether you should have them at all.
I think people around here miss how non-universal warnings are and how many other communities and spaces even today don't think you need all that.
I don't recall if we seriously considered any specific others. I don't think we had a big list, then ruled them out. It's more like we accreted a few must-haves as we went along. We probably looked at the metadata for the eFiction archives that actually had ticky boxes for search (as opposed to the very low-metadata norm on many archives). But a lot of those filters would have been fandom-specific or redundant or hella vague.
One thing to keep in mind is that this was an Era of Archives, so there were fucktons of examples to look at, though only a few flavors of example since a bunch used eFiction or otherwise copied each other's design. It was possible to make some judgements about past norms on archives, not just go "Are we copying FFN or not?" A lot of fans now see fic hosting as the big three or see AO3 as the only option, but we were used to having many archives with many designs.
I know we wanted a short and manageable list of warnings, and we wanted unambiguous things that could be effectively enforced. If I'm populating my hard-coded 90s website with other people's fics, I can go through each for dubcon before I post it (not that you'd ever have warned for dubcon in the 90s). On a big fic archive, making judgement calls on vague ass categories like dubcon is a nightmare.
We did do some focus groups where other interested fans came in and critiqued our work. I can't recall how much was about our ToS wording and how much was about the actual policies. But we did workshop this shit extensively with people who were around at the time. I think many of the whiners now assume it wasn't enough of a community effort (since we didn't decide things they like). But actually, a bunch of people weighed in. Maybe elf remembers what we actually asked them. I think she was in a focus group.
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suzukiblu · 5 months
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WIP WEDNESDAY GAME
Taken from @kedreeva.
It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.
Here’s how it works:
In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!
After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!
If you’re reading this, you’re invited!
If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.
file names:
think pink
mirrorverse!Clark and Kon's daddy issues both get some
Match and Kon and the time magic made them do it
interdimensional whoring for TimKon
the Core Four gangs up on Kon's objectification kink
Yes, yes it IS the porn edition of WIP Wednesday this week. You're welcome or I'm sorry, whichever one more accurately applies, haha.
And just to remind you all, I'm totally cool with people requesting multiple WIPs, but I'd prefer if you sent them in multiple asks! Just a little easier for me that way.
snippet from “think pink”:
“Made you wait long enough already, yeah?” Kon says, biting his lip before flashing them both a grin and spreading his thighs a little farther, and a little more deliberately. “Show me what all the fuss is about, man.”
“Ngh,” Tim says. Bernard curses, then laughs in disbelief and grabs the lube. 
“I actually cannot believe you’re letting me touch you,” he says. “Like, at all.” 
“I want you to touch me,” Kon says firmly. Tim picked Bernard. There’s no way this isn’t gonna be good.
Bernard flushes and laughs again, shaking his head and shifting over to kneel between Kon’s thighs, and Kon feels–not self-conscious, exactly, but just very much aware of the fact that this is not the usual kind of thing he does in bed and not the usual way people touch him or look at him, and not really something he knows how to . . . 
“That still feels so nice, geez,” Bernard says, which is when Kon realizes his TTK’s gotten a little bit away from him and wrapped up both Bernard and Tim. He flushes himself, a little embarrassed, and tries not to look sheepish when he grins up at Bernard again. 
“I aim to please,” he says. “What do you need me to do?” 
“Nothing,” Tim says, stroking his collarbones again. “Just relax and let us take care of you, alright?” 
Kon isn’t actually sure how to do that, but . . . 
It sounds nice, he thinks. Like–several kinds of nice. 
Like really nice.
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svsss-fanon-exposed · 5 months
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I've got a question! I know based on your blog that Ming Fan is Shen Qingqiu's senior disciple, but does that mean he was the first disciple Shen Qingqiu accepted period, or that he was the first one Shen Qingqiu promoted to inner disciple? I don't recall any mention of inner vs outer disciples prior to the Airplane extras, so I'm a bit unclear on how that might related to the position of senior disciple.
Sorta related, but do you think there may still have been other young disciples on the peak, that were selected by the previous peak lord, when Shen Qingqiu took over? I'm uncertain if the peak lords would stop selecting new disciples in anticipation of their ascension, or they would continue to select them as usual.
I suppose they could do something like bringing their designated successors along with them to the selections, then making their choices with said successor's input. Or perhaps it's entirely up to the peak lord, with some continuing to make selections on their own, others allowing their successors to advise them, and still others no longer accepting disciples (plus Bai Zhan continuing to do it's own thing, where nobody is selected, but anyone can climb the mountain and join).
At this point, I'm seriously considering making an "Explaining Canon" post about the workings and rankings of CQM as far as we know, including the different types of disciples, acceptance policies, etc. because it can get pretty confusing, and there are a lot of gaps in what canon tells us that can sometimes be filled via genre convention, but other times it's a toss-up/entirely up to interpretation. SVSSS kind of plays fast and loose with worldbuilding in general, and we already know that PIDW does too, so it does sort of make sense but at the same time it can be so confusing for fic writers!
This got long so, answer below the cut:
Ming Fan being Senior Disciple means that he is currently the most senior of Shen Qingqiu's personal disciples/Qing Jing Peak's inner disciples (for CQM, I believe those terms are somewhat interchangeable but I'll explain them more in another post). It doesn't mean he was the very first one Shen Qingqiu took-- though he was probably one of the first. We do know that SQQ has driven disciples off the peak before, so it's possible that Ming Fan had a shixiong or two that are no longer present, but it's also equally likely that he was, in fact, the first inner disciple. As for a promotion, disciples don't have to start as outer disciple and then become inner disciple-- that was SQH's situation, but Luo Binghe seems to be an inner/personal disciple from when he was first selected. My interpretation is that inner disciples are those personally selected by the peak lord, while outer disciples are either those selected by other members of the PL's generation, or those who asked to be taken into the peak and were accepted, but not actually chosen themselves. Different peaks might also have different admission policies-- perhaps An Ding Peak accepts a larger amount of outer disciples due to the manpower required, while Qing Jing Peak's ranks may be thinner. This, of course, is all just speculation-- there are plenty of possible explanations, since canon doesn't give us much to go off of in this sort of thing.
We do know that there are disciples of the PLs' generation on the mountain, with a specific example being Bai Zhan's Ji Jue, but there's nothing to say when the former generation stopped accepting disciples. It is common in xianxia, though, for a master to close their gates and stop accepting disciples altogether-- oftentimes the 关门弟子 character type I discussed here can be an exception to this, taken in after the master has normally stopped accepting disciples. My guess is that, most likely, a peak lord would stop taking young personal disciples before ascension, but there's nothing to say distinctly one way or another. Personally, though, I think it highly likely that Shen Qingqiu was also 关门弟子, and there were no others accepted after him, but that's just my headcanon.
For QJP specifically, we don't see any members aside from SQQ and his direct disciples. This doesn't necessarily mean there are no others, as we know that SQQ was not the only member of the peak when he became PL, but QJP also may be a fairly small peak, and SQQ's shixiong may have decided to leave or go often travelling after he became peak lord-- otherwise, there are other members of the peak and their disciples, we just never meet any of them in SVSSS and they are not mentioned.
I wouldn't be surprised if successors went along to the selection, perhaps even selecting their first disciples before the former generation's ascension-- this would occur once the former generation had officially closed their gates and stopped accepting disciples, passing the lineage on to their successors. It also wouldn't be surprising for successors to simply attend the selection in order to observe it. We do know that Cang Qiong holds a recruitment once every year-- so there is some way for new disciples to get onto the peak, whether it is the successors taking their own, or other members of the current leadership generation, or outer disciples being accepted without a specific master.
Ultimately, I think that CQM's Peak Lords have a lot of freedom in how they run their peaks, including how they select disciples, when they close their gates, etc. CQM really does seem, a lot of times, to be more like twelve individual small sects rolled up into one, instead of one fully cohesive unit with policies and customs uniform across the peaks. At the end of the day, we don't have very much canonical worldbuilding, so a lot of things are up for interpretation when writing fics.
If you want some ideas on how things might be run, feel free to take ideas from other xianxia/wuxia novels-- for example, Tai Sui by priest and Zhu Xian by Xiao Ding both have fairly comprehensive political/sect worldbuilding, where MXTX's worldbuilding is a bit more loose/only made note of when specifically relevant to the plot, which is more closely focused on relationships between characters.
In the end, I would absolutely love to have more canon information regarding Cang Qiong's disciple selection, and sect rules and demographics in general, as well as more about the ascension of peak lords and transfer of power... sadly, it seems we will have to forever make do with headcanons.
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goldenempyrean · 1 year
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“Why didn’t you tell me?”  + “I do not have a cold!”  for Lena working late when sick so reader goes to get her to come home?
Workaholic
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〚 Notes - First Supergirl fic, hopefully yall enjoy :D 〛
〚 Pairing - Lena Luthor x Reader 〛
〚 Summary - Lena's been pushing herself too hard and ends up sick. You're there to take her home. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 1550 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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Your wife was stubborn at the best of times. Maybe it was because her of her family or even her job but honestly, sometimes it made your life just that much more difficult. Right now for example, you’d told her to take it easy, to stop pushing herself so hard. But did she stop? Oh no she didn’t. 
You saw the signs, her husky voice, eyes looking more tired than usual and her small periodic sniffles were all pointing to one fact. She was getting sick. You knew it was bound to happen sooner or later but still you couldn’t help but be annoyed by your wife’s ability to not look after herself. 
This was the third time this week she’d called ahead to say that she’d be working late. Something about a major project at L-Corp that needed her undivided attention and you couldn't say you were surprised when you got a call from her worried assistant only half an hour into her overtime. 
“Hello?” You answered, already knowing who it was. 
“Hi, it’s Jess from L-Corp. I’m sorry to bother you, but Lena’s here still and I think you need to come convince her to go home. She won’t listen to me.” 
You sighed, knowing that this wasn’t going to be an easy task. “Alright, hang tight. I’ll come get her,” you said, already grabbing your keys and coat before hurrying out to your car. 
When you arrived at her work, you made your way to Lena’s office and found her sitting at her desk, surrounded by a mountain of paperwork. She looked up as you entered, her eyes bloodshot, skin a sickly white and her nose was visibly red. For somebody usually so put together, she looked awful. 
“Hi, honey,” you spoke softly, trying to keep your voice gentle. “Jess called me and said you’re still here. What’s going on? You’re not looking too good.” 
Lena sighed and leaned back in her chair, wincing as she did. “Im sorry I thought I already told you I was working late,” she muttered. “I just can’t leave this work unfinished. It’s too important.” She finished her sentence with a chesty cough that she muffled against her elbow and groaned. 
You handed her a tissue as Lena let out a harsh sneeze, her body shaking with the force of it. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy as you watched her struggle to catch her breath. 
“Come on, darling, you need to go home and rest,” you said firmly, trying to ignore the slight tremble in your own voice, “This cold looks like it’s doing a number on you.” 
“I do not have a cold!” 
You raised an eyebrow at her denial, knowing full well that it was a lie. Lena had always been stubborn when it came to admitting that she was sick. But you weren't going to let her push herself any further. 
"Alright, then what is it?" you asked, crossing your arms and standing your ground. 
Lena hesitated, her eyes darting away from yours. You could see the struggle on her face as she tried to fight off another sneeze. 
"It's just allergies," she finally admitted, sniffling again. 
You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "Allergies, huh? You sound pretty congested for allergies." 
Lena glared at you, but before she could retort, she let out a loud sneeze, her body lurching forward. You rushed over to her, holding out a tissue for her to use. 
"Bless you," you said, rubbing her back as she sniffled again, “You sure you do have even the tinest of colds?” 
“I'm not sick.” She paused to sniffle again as she shot you an annoyed look, “I’m not! Luthors don’t get sickhh - Hh’tshoo!” 
She broke off from her sentence with another sneeze poorly covered by her hand. You hated to think just how many potential colleagues your irresponsible wife could potentially infect. 
“And apparently Luthors don’t use tissues either.” You chided but your teasing tone was unmissable as you pulled a few tissues from the box on her desk and held them out to her. 
Lena glared at you through watery eyes, but eventually relented and took the tissues from your outstretched hand. She blew her nose loudly and then tossed the used tissue into the trash can beside her desk. 
You watched her for a moment, concern etched on your face. Lena was usually so put together; it was strange to see her like this. You knew she hated showing any sort of vulnerability, but you couldn't help but worry. 
"Are you sure you don't want to go home and rest?" you asked, hoping she would take the hint. 
"I can't," Lena replied, her voice scratchy. "I have too much work to do." 
You sighed, knowing that arguing with her would be pointless. Lena was stubborn when it came to her work, and you had learned long ago not to try and change her mind. 
"Fine," you said, finally having enough of the back and forth arguing. You grabbed a chair and pulling it up next to her desk. "But I'm staying here to make sure you don't overwork yourself." 
Lena rolled her eyes but didn't argue. You could tell she appreciated your concern, even if she would never admit it. 
For the next hour, you watched as Lena tried to power through her work, despite her obvious illness. She sneezed and sniffled every few minutes, pausing occasionally to blow her nose or take a sip of water. You couldn't help but feel guilty - you knew that if you maybe had been a little sterner about her resting then she wouldn't be in this predicament. 
You stood up to stretch your legs and grab a cup of coffee from the break room, hoping it would help you stay alert during your long night of babysitting. When you returned, Lena had finally succumbed to her illness and had fallen asleep at her desk. 
You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to wake her, but you knew she needed rest if she was going to get better. You gently placed your hand on her shoulder and shook her awake. 
"Lena, darling, you need to go home and get some rest," you said softly. "You're not going to get any better if you stay here." 
Lena groaned and rubbed her eyes, looking up at you with a defeated expression. "I know," she sighed. "I just have so much to do." 
"I'll take care of everything," you reassured her. "You just need to focus on getting better." 
Lena nodded; her eyes drifting shut again. You stood up and gathered her things, making sure to turn off her computer and lock up her office before escorting her out of the building. 
The ride home was quiet, with your wife sleepily dozing off in the passenger seat. When you arrived at your apartment, you helped her inside and tucked her into bed, making sure she had everything she needed before retreating to the living room to start on the pile of work she had left behind. 
As you worked, you couldn't help but glance at the clock every few minutes, counting down the hours until Lena would wake up. You knew she needed rest, but you also knew she wouldn't be happy if she woke up to find you still working. 
Hours passed and before you knew it, the sun was starting to rise. You had made significant progress on Lena's work and were just about to call it a night when you heard a soft groan coming from the bedroom. 
You quickly made your way to Lena's side, finding her looking up at you with tired eyes. "How are you feeling?" you asked, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead. 
Lena yawned and stretched, looking a bit more refreshed than she had earlier. "Better," she said, her voice still scratchy. "Thanks for taking care of me." 
"Of course," you replied, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Can I ask something though, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” 
Lena let out a sigh, looking a bit guilty. "I didn't want to be a burden," she admitted. "And I thought I could tough it out and get my work done." 
You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "You're never a burden to me, Lena," you said. "And it's okay to take a break when you're not feeling well. I'm just glad I was able to help." 
Lena smiled weakly, reaching out to take your hand. "I know," she said softly. "I just get so caught up in my work sometimes that I forget to take care of myself." 
You squeezed her hand gently. "That's why I'm here," you said. "To remind you to take care of yourself and to help you when you need it. Now, how about I go make you some breakfast, hm?” 
Lena smiled at you, and you could tell she really was grateful for your help. As you made your way to the kitchen, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Despite the long night, you had been able to take care of your stubborn wife. It was a small victory, but one that you would cherish. 
〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@natashamyl0ve
(still unsure wether to tag everyone in supergirl fics for the ones who said 'all' so just lmk!)
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annabtg · 1 month
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Anna, you’re so right(i love you). It’s so annoying that all these woke yaoi-shipping sjws have taken over the fandom. You cannot put characters like James and Sev through modern lenses(“Snape was a child abuser” teachers were allowed to hit students with rulers at 90s british schools but being a little mean to a troublemaker makes you satan🙄) and understand them fully. You also cannot make James Potter into a bisexual adhd-having MOC and keep true to his character(everything about him relays on him being very privileged in society)
Love, an old man.
I don't know how you can read this post and conclude that my problem is "woke, yaoi-shipping sjws"? My problem is, like I said, the complete lack of reading comprehension skills, of creative and analytical thought and of the ability to empathize with the characters.
Indeed, modern social media seems to favour performative activism, but that's not what fanfic suffers from. I've engaged with fandom enough to understand that the prevalence of non-nuanced takes comes from younger fans who have grown up in a world massively different from the one I grew up in as a millennial with boomer parents.
Nevertheless, I don't think you're doing it right either, my love. Teachers might have been allowed to hit students with rulers in the 70s (they weren't allowed in 90s Greece, though, and I have been informed neither were they in the UK) - and an example of a strict but good teacher in the books is Minerva McGonagall, who would dole out harsh punishments and use her sharp tongue on students, but still gives you the feeling that she cared about them and loved them. That kind of "tough love" was how boomers took care of their kids. Not Snape, who had beef with a student because he didn't like his father. That's fucked up. But the thing is that Snape is supposed to be unlikeable and mean and come off as the villain, to make his arc all the more surprising and impactful. He's supposed to be a fucked up dick who works for the side of good, because the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters.
As for James, I don't think his portrayal as a bisexual ADHD-having MOC is inherently incompatible with his character, even if it's not the authorial intent (indeed, James is supposed to be the picture of privilege). For instance, one aspect of HP I find fascinating is how being a POC doesn't descend into racism in the books - I think there's one single instance of it, where Pansy tells Angelina she's got worms on her head, but that's obviously Pansy being a dick, and other than that there is no casual racism thrown about to people like Dean or Lee or Cho or the Patils. Whether their portrayal is nuanced or stereotypical is a different discussion, but I think it's obvious that we're supposed to take out that if you're a racist wizard, it's not colour that matters, it's blood. James Potter could reasonably be a POC and it wouldn't matter at all in the world he lived in.
That he would struggle with ADHD or sexuality is also not implausible, and in fact I think it makes for very compelling portrayals of him to be going through that in an era-adequate way. Have people around him be annoyed because he just won't sit still, show him confused by his attraction to Sirius and downplaying it with semi-homophobic remarks. I'm personally not so much a fan of a Hogwarts that reads like you're at Pride, but it was the era of hippies, after all?? I think that Hogwarts would be on the conservative side of things, but at the end of the day it *was* the time when queerness started to gain visibility and I understand how people feel at liberty to use that. Everyone seeks to connect to these characters through fic to some degree; for me, who grew up as a gifted (and probably undiagnosed autistic?) kid in a conservative society, the canon portrayal of people like James and Lily and Sirius at Hogwarts resonates enough to keep me intrigued.
I don't lament people trying to project their own struggles with queerness or mental illness or idk just the fun conversations they have with their friends on the Marauders and Hogwarts; what bugs me is when it's being done in a way that cancels canon aphoristically, and you're suddenly idk toxic for shipping Jily because "James was an abuser and Lily had Stockholm Syndrome" - that's not what happened. Showing off like a peacock was the men's standard flirting technique, and playing hard to get was the women's standard flirting technique, and even with that Jily contains a LOT of nuance - and frankly, even through a modern lens I find it very difficult to miss if you have the first idea of reading between the lines. Which is why I keep saying: lack of reading comprehension skills and critical thinking beyond understanding straightforward text messages and cheap quips is the bane of these readers' existence (or, you know, our existence, for having to put up with it).
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occasionallyprosie · 5 months
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Just randomly curious
Why do you call Legend, the scholar instead of the veteran like what's mostly used?
Ohhh I've been waiting for someone to ask this kind of question! Ok ok ok, this is a bit long, so!
I call him Veteran a lot too but it depends on context and who is addressing him. Warriors, for example, sometimes *hates* to even think of Legend as a hardened veteran because he's a kid. So even if he will actively acknowledge Legend's experience and skill, he will avoid to only address him for that. He also avoids it because he thinks that maybe Legend would rather not be only known for his hero work (like Warriors would not want to only be known for his looks or for his warfaring past). He will call him "Vet" or "Veteran" still because it's easier to say, or because he's outwardly and directly acknowledging Legend's experience without having to directly reference the fact that he is experienced even if he's young.
Why? So I'm pretty sure it's been said that in the canon our boys don’t call each other "Twilight" or "Warriors" or their hero titles, partially because of spoilers with their own adventures that they're all basically keeping secret from each other. I'm certain Jojo said that at one point and referenced Twilight specifically as being a nickname that would cause spoilers/reveal his past prematurely.
They have nicknames then, like "Veteran," or "Sailor" and "Smithy." In certain situations they'll call each other "Link" if they think they need to, be it a moment where they need the other hero to pay attention or to ground them.
For me, I think "Veteran" is almost a spoiler because it reveals that Legend has been on over half a dozen adventures, but that the Chain would find that out before they ever hear/use hero names, and that's when Legend gets that nickname on top of "Scholar" and "Collector". But when they first meet? He doesn't want to tell them anything about his adventures, he doesn't trust them, not even how many he's been on, so how would they know he's a veteran at this?
"Collector" is obvious. "Scholar" comes from the idea that Legend's a very information curious person. That kind of person who is asking "why" just because they're curious and want to know, Vio would've been the same but Four is keeping splitting secret, so Legend gets "Scholar" as a nickname from Vio. He eventually gets "Veteran" when the group has been together and he trusts them enough to tell them that, yeah, this has been his entire life.
Lately, I've used their names (Legend, Warriors, Time) outside of dialogue because that's easiest to read and understand. But in dialogue it's been other nicknames only. That doesn't apply to all my fics, some were written before I made that decision and thus won't reflect that.
The only exceptions really are Sky and Hyrule. Sky is still called Sky as a shortened form of "Sky Knight" and "Skyloftian." However, Sky and Hyrule both also made the mistake of mentioning their titles when the group was suggesting nicknames. So they (at first) were teasingly called "Chosen" and "Hyrule," before "Chosen" just became one of Sky's nicknames and "Hyrule" became "Rule" became "Rulie." Legend, Wild, and Sky are the only ones who call Hyrule that though.
That was long, I hope that explains it! I'd be happy to clarify anything about anything.
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97keanu · 1 year
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Another imagine saga of Dave Lizewski x goth girlfriend!reader, this time for you finding out Dave is Kick Ass and subsequently the times you have to patch him up after particularly rough nights
CW: angsty, movie typical blood mentions
Read the first imagine here and the first fic (nsfw) here
Dave would be so careful as not to let you know he's Kick Ass, he knows that its a dangerous game he plays and he would never want to get you involved, even if he believes you could take the truth, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something were to happen to you.
You really start to wonder when he keeps coming over with various cuts and bruises, however.
At first you think bullies at school did this, and you get extremely pissed, like Dave having to hold you back as you begin to think of a particular bully who may have done this and you're on the move to kick their ass as you two speak
As much as Dave finds your fury kinda sexy, he also can't have you beating up people who have nothing to do with this, so he keeps making up random stories like "oh I got mugged on my way home, I have no clue who did it." Or for more minor scrapes and bruises "you know me, I'm just so clumsy I ran into x y z"
Still, you're extremely suspicious and eventually you find his suit in his room and confront him
Dave can't explain, he's at an absolute loss for words and he ends up having to fess up.
At first, you're furious, you can't believe he would do something so reckless, you hate the idea that he would ever be in harms way and truthfully, from the sweet, kind, tender Dave you know you can't imagine him being a the badass Kick Ass is.
After a few long talks and Dave even demonstrating his swiftness and strength by pinning you to the bed in two seconds flat, your metal accessories clinking as he does so, you begin to believe him. + Don't forget to add a few forgiving kisses in which Dave messes up your black lipstick, but you don't mind.
Once you two have an understanding of the whole situation, it becomes a bit fun and sexy. You tease him about playing dress up and he teases you that your goth attire is just dress up for people who like bats and cemeteries. You can't argue with that.
You get into the idea of what your gothic superhero outfit would look like and even draw up a few examples and share them with Dave, he thinks its adorable but always gently tries to sway you from actually doing it, since he can't stand the idea of you being hurt
You give Dave some really good goth/metal/alternative hits for him to listen to while he works out, which he's been keeping up with lately as to not get his ass kicked as much while out patrolling.
You even convince him to paint his nails black, feigning that its NOT because you want him to match with yours, but because it will look/feel more badass when he's Kick Ass. (Dave knows that makes so sense since you can't even see his nails in his costume, but he digresses.)
Eventually, Dave does come by one night, particularly beat up after a bad mugging situation, and your heart sinks.
He comes in from your bedroom window, completely hurt and he doesn't know why but he came to your house first because he really just needed the comfort.
You immediately grab a first aid kit laying around your house (thank god you kept one on hand), and begin cleaning up his bloodied face and hands.
You feel strange because for so long your gothic interests have shown blood in movies, music, and online and you always thought it was so aesthetically pleasing and sometimes even romanized.
Its not, you can't even explain how horrible you feel, the pit in your stomach opening up when you see how hurt Dave is, even though he tries to say it doesn't hurt that much, it scares you.
After Dave is bandaged up, you take his costume off, and nearly toss it with anger on your bedroom floor somewhere, you don't care where, in fact you want it out of sight.
Dave can tell how much this upset you, and he keeps apologizing, and you don't even blame him, you know he does good, you know you could never ask him to change, this is just who he is.
But fuck, you just want Dave right now. Not Kick Ass. Not a superhero. Just plain old Dave, the nerdy shy boy you fell in love with. And you tell him just this. Dave understands, and pulls you close, telling you still how sorry he is for scaring you.
The two of you hold each other tight, Dave petting your back ratted hair softly, looking into your dark make-uped eyes and giving you kisses anywhere he can.
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