#my fics really just fill one niche don’t they

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[akunya]

eiiiiii the idea of getting private meeting with camboy vox HELLO. you make me suffer for good stuffs every single day 😭💦 can you spoil me a little bittttt. - 🐱

“private session.”

pairings: camboy!vox akuma x male!reader

summary: congrats, lucky winner! because of your generous donations, vox reached out wanting to thank you in person. things, however, take a turn.

tw: DRUGGING, yandere, manipulation, voice fetish. camshows, drinking, implied noncon. age gap, etc.

notes: last fic of 2022! im posting this mere minutes from midnight, so please pardon any mistakes. ill go back and edit this a bit later.

and yes, i can write a part 2 if you truly wish. sorry for cucking you guys, again..

happy new year everyone, thank you for such an amazing 2022. i hope to write much more in the future!

“im at the right place, aren’t i..?” you mumbled to yourself, frigid, clammy hands swiping your phone to make sure the location was right. the restaurant looked a bit trendy and sophisticated, somewhere you wouldn't dare step inside on your own. you and vox both agreed on a restaurant to meet at around eight o'clock. to be truly honest with yourself, you never thought you’d have the guts to do something like this — but when vox, the streamer who you’ve been watching for months daily and donating to everyday reached out to you personally, how could you say no?

nonetheless, sitting across from him at the table really made you wish you had refused.

for one, he was much too ethereal to be in your lowly presence. the camera didn’t do him justice at all — his pale skin was a nice contrast to his black hair, adorned by his signature red highlights. he even wore the red eye makeup that you loved to look at, except now, you could see his mouth and bottom half of his face, uncovered by the black mask he would usually wear. his lips looked so soft, and when his tongue darted out to lick them you were nearly going to faint. we’re those.. fangs? his canines were sharp, and you felt like a pervert for staring so intensely.

you quickly paid your respects to the other fans who would never know that vox, a niche but popular adult streamer, was a truly beautiful man in person.

you didn't even notice how silent it had gotten between the two of you. “no need to be so quiet. i don’t bite, i promise.” vox’s sweet voice snapped you out of your thoughts, apologizing profusely for zoning out so much. “you’re right! im sorry, ive just never done anything like this before..” you chuckled awkwardly, shifting in your chair while vox just smiled. he found your skittishness adorable. you reminded him of a scared little bunny — and he was the big bad wolf, ready to eat you up whole.

"what a shame. and here i was thinking you do this quite often, with how you accepted my request and all." the demon smirked at how your face flushed, becoming a stuttering mess. you should've expected it, but he was just as snarky in person as he was on his live shows. as your little meeting continued, vox realized he enjoyed your presence much more than he thought. the night was filled with friendly but interesting conversation, and for once, the demon didn’t feel forced to keep speaking.

at first, he debated on meeting with you in person. what if the person who donated nearly thousands to him each month turned out to be not as pleasant as he hoped? while the demon wouldn't be surprised, he would be a tad disappointed with all of the free shoutouts he's given to you. still, with you being his top donator for a while now, he felt compelled to show some form of graciousness. a little present, just in time for the holidays.

vox enjoyed streaming more than he thought he would. even though he could use his voice and other demonic powers for much grander, sinister things - for some reason, using them to tease and drain the wallets of his viewers was surprisingly just as satisfying. doing this, he never had to worry about getting a silly job like most humans did, letting the demon truly relax when he wasnt tampering with cameras and himself.

but, you, however - vox liked how shy and nervous you were. it awakened a sick monster inside of him, that wanted to see you cry and beg for mercy at his fingertips. he thought his days of toying with mortals was over, but unfortunately (or fortunately?) for you, you seemed to rekindle that fire in his heart. if he didn't know any better, he would've never expected you to be someone that watches adult streams online, let alone spend money on them.

taking advantage of how anxious you were, vox continued to ask questions about yourself, forcing you to blurt out answers in hopes of not screwing up. "so, what do you like about my streams, y/n?" the male swiveled the wine in his glass nonchalantly, golden eyes looking into yours, awaiting an answer. you gulped, shakily drinking yours as well.

"um, well, you're the first streamer i've ever really watched for.. that sort of stuff. i initially liked how your voice sounded, and wanted to hear more, but i ended up staying for your little stories and when you'd talk about yourself. you just seemed really nice." it was a bit embarrassing when you had said it aloud, but it was the truth. you enjoyed the moments where the demon would just ramble the most. of course, given the content of his streams, most of the things he'd speak about were so dirty it made your ears feel hot - however, there were moments where he'd just talk about his day, and you seemed to enjoy those the most.

it was vox's turn to blush, his grip tightening on the wine glass ever so slightly. how could a mere mortal make him feel so... flustered? hes had his fair share of affairs over many decades, however, never has he felt so vulnerable. the demon was expecting you to talk about his cock or something, but of course your innocent little head wouldnt do that. you should be thankful vox isn't a cannibalistic demon, or he seriously would've eaten your heart out by now.

therefore, the man didnt feel any remorse when you went to the bathroom and he slipped a drug into your drink while you were away.

it wasnt his fault - how was he supposed to let you go after today? someone as sinless and pure as yourself needed to be his. vox wouldnt be content with letting you go back to being another viewer behind the screen, not after your little meeting. the demon knew truly that you probably wouldn't refuse going home with him, but that also didnt guarantee you'd accept his offer. he considered the drug just a bit of a push in the right direction, if you will.

"sorry for taking so long. there was a line outside, so.." your voice trailed off, going back to your seat as the older man simply chuckled. why did you feel the need to explain yourself? it didn't matter how long you took, even if you tried to run now, vox would surely find you. pouring some more wine for himself, he filled his glass a bit more to match yours. you tried to tell him you weren't too keen or interested in alcohol at the beginning of your little date, but the demon wouldn't take no for an answer. "y/n, lets have a toast, shall we?" his held up his glass expectantly towards you, waiting for you to clink the rim with your own.

you hesitated for a moment. the smell of wine never enticed you, but seeing vox wait earnestly made your heart flutter. one glass shouldn't hurt, right?

you simply nodded, the familiar clank of glass against glass being shared between you two before drinking. you drank a majority of the wine, only leaving a small amount left. "good boy. its good, isnt it?" you nearly sputtered the drink back up from the praise, nodding again and drinking the rest in one gulp. it was much different hearing his words of affirmation in person. it felt addicting, unreal.

"thats it. a toast for the new year, my boy. im excited for the memories we shall make together. aren't you?" oh, did vox mean his streams? of course you looked forward to those, how could you not! he was the highlight of your day, making you smile and laugh. "mhm! im excited. im looking forward to your streams, vox." the demon felt a shiver roll down his spine, suppressing a groan. he could get used to you saying his name. he wanted to hear you say it in other ways, too.

"i hope we can get more.. personal, as well, y/n. it was truly delightful being here with you." the man had such a way with words, making you swoon. was he this nice with everyone? no wonder he had so many followers! while you didnt know the true extent to what he had implied, you agreed, telling him that you were happy you came out today.

of course you were. you were his little rabbit, frail and gullible, unknowing of the big bad wolf sitting across from your very table. he truly wondered just how oblivious you could be, but much to his delight, he'd find out soon enough. your eyes started to feel heavy, zoning out while he talked about random things to keep you occupied.

"goodness, y/n, are you alright? you look a bit pale. here, let me take you back to my place. i don't live far at all." his voice was sickeningly sweet, how could you deny his offer? you nodded drowsily, letting the man hold you to steady your balance.

the cold air of the outdoors didnt phase you, and neither did it bother vox. peering at your sleeping face, he smiled, leaning in to kiss the top of your forehead.

"happy new years, y/n. lets have fun together." vox whispered in your ear, turning the corner towards his apartment.

[copper-16]

been thinking about your platonic andrea + lola fic especially since andrea missed the last penalty that took atletico out of the CL. would you ever write a fic about that?

idk andrea feeling really guilty and pulling away from the team and lola reminding her that she’s more than just her bad moments on the pitch?

:)

The way this ask made me GASP...I posted this fic OVER a year ago and someone still remembers it? I cannot explain my excitement, especially because it's such a little niche/rarepair fic. It makes my YEAR when people still remember those silly little fics I made. If rarepair or platonic stuff was more popular I would probably have a million fics to write, honestly.

I wasn't ever planning to write about them again - but I pumped something out solely because I was so excited by you mentioning it 😭 It's not a full fic necessarily which is why I'm just posting it on here.

I Try, I Try

Andrea misses the penalty, crushing Atlético Madrid's dream of playing in the Champions League. Crushing Lola's dream of playing in the Champions League. The defender struggles to cope before she receives an important reminder.

If there was one thing that would have motivated Lola to save every single one of those penalties, it would be the sight of Andrea on the pitch after missing her own. It was burned into her brain it felt like, the image of the younger girl right next to the celebrating Rosenborg team, her head in her hands. 

Lola was absolutely disappointed after the loss. But she had been lucky to have a long career, to have won a Champions League trophy, to have experienced so many losses and victories. But the defender was still young, and it was a different kind of pressure and expectation to be the one to take the final penalty in a shootout. Especially one where the result determined if they had a shot at playing on the international stage. 

And Andrea hadn’t even flinched when she had been selected, insisting that she was ready. She was putting on a brave face, Lola could tell. 

But it was that kind of strength and the right attitude that made good players great ones. The keeper was proud of her for being a team player and fighting till the end, even if it wasn’t their day. Even if she wanted to cry, the blonde made her way around to her other teammates, patting them on the back and holding back her clear upset. 

Lola simply wished it didn’t have to end this way. The younger girl had been nearly catatonic in the changing room, on the bus ride, on the plane. 

It had been Carmen who had taken Andrea home, given that the two of them lived in the same apartment building. Lola had pulled the older defender aside, asking her quietly to keep an eye on their younger teammate. 

When the keeper asked Andrea if she wanted to come over to her and Christina’s apartment, she only received a muted head shake in response. The younger girl could barely even look her in the eyes as she brushed the keeper off, though not unkindly. 

It had taken less than two hours for Carmen to call Lola to come over, her voice filled with worry. 

The older woman rode a strange line sometimes, wanting to respect Andrea’s boundaries while also understanding that sometimes people didn’t always exactly say what they wanted. She did feel a certain responsibility to protect the defender from the harsh realities of the world, but she couldn’t solve everything. 

Personally, she hated the fact, even if she knew that she held no control over it. 

She makes it to Andrea and Carmen’s apartment building in record time, meeting her former partner by the door to the younger girlfriend’s apartment.

“I could hear her crying in her room when I was making her some food and I…I don’t know. She hates being alone, it feels more like she’s trying to punish herself than process,” Carmen said with exasperation, but underneath her tone is thinly veiled worry. 

“You probably aren’t far off,” Lola acquiesced, turning her head briefly to look at the door. “I’ve got her, you can go back up to your place. Don’t forget to ice your knee,” the keeper said with as much captainly authority as she could muster. Carmen rolled her eyes good-naturedly, saluting her teammate somewhat mockingly before she turned to head back up to her own place. 

Lola lets herself into Andrea’s apartment, and despite the fact that the defender’s door is closed, she can hear the muted sounds of crying that ring through the space. She doesn’t even hesitate, striding over to the younger girl’s room before she opens the door gently, poking her head in. 

The soft crying noises shut off abruptly, the entire room entering into a precarious stillness. Lola felt her heart sink at the evidence of the girl’s sadness, even if she knew it was there. 

The older woman doesn’t even bother with asking for an invitation, she simply moves into the room, climbing into Andrea’s bed with her. 

This bed held a million memories, at least for the keeper. Late-night conversations and confessions, the loudest of laughs, a safe space for tears. The mattress greets her warmly, sinking under her as she moves her body closer to Andrea’s, placing her hand gently on the defender’s back. 

“Lola, go away,” Andrea insists, attempting to sound more firm than she felt. Her words come out sounding more like they are from a tearful child, not that Lola cares. 

“It is okay to be upset Andrea, it is okay to cry,” Lola tries, but the blonde still shifts away from her, and the sound of a stuttering breath punctuates the silence around them. 

There is a pause before the younger girl speaks again, her words dripping with rage. 

Not for the team, but rather for herself. 

“It is my fault that we lost. I shouldn’t be crying over something that I had control over.” 

Lola sits up slightly after hearing her words, placing her head in her hand, her elbow pressing into the mattress. When she speaks, her voice is firm, with little room for argument. 

“No, it is not.” 

The sheer force of her words is enough to make Andrea pause and relent in turning over slightly to peer at the dark-haired woman. 

She expects Lola to be looking at her with anger, with frustration. 

First, she lost them an important game, all because she couldn’t shoot a ball into the net properly. Like it wasn’t her only job to do exactly that. 

And now, she was acting like a child, hiding in her bed when all she wanted was a hug and a reminder that she wasn’t the worst footballer in the world. 

She was older now, and she needed to grow up and be realistic. There wasn’t time for all of her big, unnecessary emotions. 

But Lola isn’t looking at her with anger or frustration. She looks more apprehensive and concerned than anything else, and Andrea turns over more fully to face her. 

“I’m so sorry Lola,” she whispers, crushed by the thought that she was the one who ended not only her dreams, the dreams of the team, but Lola’s dream. 

The keeper shakes her head instantly, her expression filling with sympathy. 

“Andrea, it is not your fault. There were 120 minutes, and four other penalties besides your own. This doesn’t rest on all you, I promise,” Lola points out, but Andrea cuts her off with a humorless laugh. 

“Yes, but if I had just made my penalty, my one job, we wouldn’t be here,” she counters, averting her eyes from the older woman. 

“And if I had saved more of the penalties, or the goals, we wouldn’t be here either,” Lola comments, but it doesn’t seem to do anything other than upset the defender more. 

“That is different, and you know it. Nobody expects a keeper to save a penalty, but it is the job of the players to score,” Andrea’s voice is forceful, as though she’s trying to convince herself of the words. 

“By the time we made it to penalties, we had already failed our job. All of us, the whole team, not just you. Just because you are the one who went last, doesn’t mean that our failures for the whole game lay completely on your shoulders,” Lola argues, and when the blonde doesn’t say anything in response, she continues. 

“This is not your fault. We all miss penalties or make mistakes on the job. I can’t even begin to count how many mistakes I have made in my career Andrea, truly. As much as I hate it, it’s a part of the game. And it doesn’t matter how many times it happens, or how old you are, you are allowed to be upset over it. It doesn’t make you immature or weak to cry or feel upset,” the keeper emphasizes, and when she sees the younger girl’s lip begin to wobble, she knows that she’s hit the root of the problem. 

“I’m twenty years old, I shouldn’t be acting this way over a penalty,” she sputters, and Lola settles herself back on the mattress, pulling the younger girl into her. 

“I don’t care how old or mature you are, you are allowed to be upset about things. I am twenty-nine years old and–” Lola starts, though the defender is quick to interject despite her sadness. 

“Aren’t you thirty-on–” Andrea is cut off with a hand that quickly covers her mouth, smothering the rest of her sentence. 

“Shush, I am in my twenties and I haven't finished speaking. As I was saying, I am older than you and I still cry about things all the time, when I feel the need to. It is natural and it is normal, just like it is to talk to other people around you. There is no rule book that says you must go through this alone because you feel that you are the one at fault for the situation. All you are doing is punishing yourself when I promise, you don’t have to,” Lola reassures, Andrea now tucked into her side, her head laying on Lola’s chest. 

There is a pause as silent tears slip down the blonde’s cheeks, as the words of the older woman wash over her. 

“I am so sorry Lola,” she emphasizes, and it’s the repetition of the word that causes the keeper to look down in confusion. 

“Why are you saying sorry to me?” She asks, a little lost on why Andrea needed to apologize to her specifically. 

“You are further along in your career, these chances aren’t always easy to come by, and I screwed it up. I blew your chance this year, and who knows if we’ll have this opportunity again,” Andrea’s voice is small, emotion caught in her throat. 

“I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t…” 

The blonde’s words trail off, but the unspoken part of her sentence is heard loud and clear. 

Please don’t hate me. 

“I could never, I promise you that. You are my teammate, but more importantly, you are my friend. I am proud of you each time you step out onto the pitch, and I consider myself so lucky to be your teammate. We win together, and we lose together. I love you far too much to ever let something like football come between us, even if it is an important match. It’s just a game, and you are…tan especial para mí,” Lola vows, feeling the younger girl curl further into her side, a sigh of relief leaving her exhausted body. 

And it was true. The defender meant so much more to her than anything that football might bring or take away, and she would much rather prioritize that than over something she knew could slip out from under her at any moment. 

“Te amo pequeña,” the older woman murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of Andrea’s head. 

The younger girl snuggles into her further, tear tracks down her face finally beginning to dry as she settles into the taller woman. 

“Thank you Mama Lola. Te amo,” she whispers as she drifts off, disappointment now accompanied by the knowledge that she would overcome this. 

And by the fact that she didn’t have to do it alone.

[pastafossa]

Charlie Cox experience at Philly Fan Expo 2023

So LET”S TALK ABOUT ME MEETING CHARLIE. I’m actually going to make two posts - this one just about my experiences with Charlie, because they were incredibly meaningful and deserve their own post, and then another one about the rest of the con!

I’m going to talk about Charlie first, because of how amazing the experience was, one of the best I’ve had, especially at the autograph table. I’ve done photos, gotten autographs and such before from other celebs - from niche voice actors I loved to people like David Tennant - but this felt Really Really Big. Obviously, I was nervous as all hell because holy shit Charlie Cox, my favorite actor whose work altered the course of my life. I won’t lie - I’d been practicing what to say to him in case I freaked out, but I’m happy to say that everyone who reassured me it would go great, because he was so, so genuine and kind, were right.

The photo op happened first (and thank you to everyone on tumblr guiding me where to go, cause I was LOST about where that was happening), and that went fast. By that point in the con hall, I’d already ditched my Jessica Jones jacket and gloves cause holy shit it’s hot and I am a creature of snow and ice, and my hair was a mess, but honestly I didn’t care, cause there he is. You don’t get long, but he made the most of it and he was SO sweet. Ya’ll, he asked my name, said my name as he shook my hand, and called me ‘my dear’ in that beautiful voice.

I was literally on the moon, but it was time for the big question:

Will he hold the red thread from TRT?

So in a quiet, nervous, soft author voice, I asked, ‘would you be ok with holding this end of the thread?’

HE FUCKING DID.

HE HELD IT.

HE HELD. THE. RED. THREAD.

I’m fairly certain he doesn’t know about the fic at this point - he wasn’t sure where to hold it until I told him, but he loved that it lit up! AND THEN HE PUT HIS ARM AROUND ME AND I GOT TO PUT MY ARM AROUND HIM BACK.

I’m fairly certain I’m dead in the photo. My soul had left my body. I had ascended. I saw Jesus and he looked like Charlie. I had achieved fic author heights never imagined. My brain filled with enough serotonin and dopamine to sink a ship. I didn’t care that I was hot and sweaty or that my hair was messy or that my cosplay didn’t work out like I’d planned. I had been blessed.

also look at that forearm holy shit

I floated outta that gd room ya’ll. I’m pretty sure @wonderlandmind4​ did the same. WE FROLICKED OUT OF THAT HALL LIKE

But things got even better at the autograph table, and I had one of the most touching experiences ever.

not me tearing up thinking about it.

That line was long, but I kept getting glimpses of him and I could already tell he was enjoying interacting with people, and he was making sure everyone got their bit of time with him instead of letting anyone rush people through. He was so happy looking, laughing and grinning, high fives and fist bumps for kids, chatting with fans. Which made me feel a little more confident.

I know some people wondered if I’d tell him about TRT, and I’d already decided I wasn’t going to. Instead, I really, really wanted just a second to tell him what his work as Daredevil had meant for me, as someone who became disabled around the same time Matt did as a kid, and who related to... a lot of what Matt went through in the show. I’d practiced it over and over again, and there was only a fifty percent chance I wouldn’t start crying while telling him, and I wasn’t even sure I’d have time to tell him depending on how much time we had.

He made time.

I got up to him with my art print holy shit he’s even more beautiful in person and his eyes are STUNNING. He said hi, and asked my name so he could personalize the autograph if I wanted (DUH, YES PLEASE), and he apologized about the line after we shook hands. I jokingly told him it was fine since I’d driven hours to get here. A little time in line wasn’t a bother. He even loved one of the buttons on my lanyard - the button of Matt wearing a heart crown specifically! And as he was writing, I knew this was my chance to tell him. He was still signing, so I just decided to go for it in case I ran out of time.

“I just wanted to tell you,” I said quietly, “as someone who became disabled as a kid around the same age as Matt did—”

And then he did something I didn’t expect, something I’d rarely seen anyone do, famous or not, and something I’d never had an actor or artist do for me.

He immediately set down the pen, leaned in close over the table, and made direct eye contact, while giving me the most genuine, gentle, encouraging smile I’d ever seen.

In that moment, I knew everything in him was listening, that he cared about what I was about to say and recognized that this was important to me, and that he’d closed the distance to make this conversation just... us. It felt personal in a way I’ve never experienced at a con or signing.  

Just like that, I wasn’t afraid to tell him what I’d wanted to.

“And as someone who related to... a lot of what Matt went through, his struggles in the show, and especially the dark parts of season 3,” I said, more confidently now, “I wanted you to know that all the work you put in, the way you played it, the way you played Matt and treated it seriously, seeing that helped me process and heal from a lot of my own trauma and pain over what I’ve gone through with my illnesses. What you did was important and it really helped me. So I wanted you to know that, how much that meant to me, and to say thank you.”

The whole time I spoke to him, he kept direct eye contact, and didn’t look away once. He didn’t get antsy, or look like he wanted me to hurry up (which I’d have understood, cause damn, these are long days for him). He listened, fully engaged and leaning in, his eyes warm and soft and kind but incredibly serious. I’m not sure how often he’s been told something like this—a lot, I expect; his portrayal was just that good, and I know it was important to a lot of fans—but what I was trying to tell him clearly meant something to him. I felt heard, seen, and understood.

Charlie really does care about his fans. It isn’t an act. I’m sure of it now.

“Thank you, truly,” he said, just as quietly but with that honest smile, eye crinkles and all, and seeing it in person, that close up, I swear the room felt ten times brighter. “Thank you for coming to tell me that. It means a lot, the idea that something I did meant so much and that it could help you. I’m so grateful that you were able to come visit and tell me.”

We shook hands after that. He wished me a good day and I told him thank you again, and that was that. The interaction only lasted maybe a minute, but it meant the absolute world to me, as did what he’s done as Daredevil. And now he knows that.

[qprpbj]

do you have any tips on how to start writing fics?

the outsiders brainrot actually has me coming up with ideas and i have a desire to start writing them into actual stories but i've never written outside of class papers/assignments and i don't really know where/how to start since it's all just my own prompts and ideas and there's no grading rubric lmaoooo

like do you plan out each fic with a list first or do you just start writing about the main plot point of the chapter and fill in out of order or do you just start writing and see where it takes you... do you do any research while you're planning or pull from other authors/fics/posts or write from experience...

how do you decide when to stop writing or decide on which endings/paths/plot points to go with... the deadly combo of indecisiveness and perfectionism along with having no guidelines or due dates is crippling me so im asking some of my fav authors (who have also been inspiring me to write and be creative)

wait hi this is so sweet thank you!!! 🥹🥹 i will preface All This (sorry i yapped so much lol) by. i’ve been writing fic for like ten years and i think a lot of my old fic, while deeply cringe and awful, was all very important to getting me where i am today where i feel i can accurately get across what im trying to say!!!

first. hone your ideas!!! try to find a good niche you feel comfortable in (but also. don’t limit your creativity!!!). idk for me it’s easier to start specific and small rather than super general bc then i have Tooooo much freedom u know. i think my niche sorta across fandoms is generally softer dialogue, exploring close siblings or familial or friendship bonds an dynamics through situation, a lot of fluff, maybe a lil hurt comfort

i basically exclusively write in order! unless i get a really cool line/paragraph in my head that i write out and save for later to fit in somewhere. i usually have a like one-line idea that just Comes to me (ex. this was my entire line idea that turned into that pony getting jumped fic!)

then i’ll expand it a little more into a shitty little paragraph (ex. here’s a few!!!)

and then tbh after that i just kinda write everything in order from top to bottom from there. i wish i were more organized tbh and writing long fic/chaptered stuff is still sooo hard for me (which is why i don’t do it much yet lol) but im really trying to break out of it!! slowly we are learning!!! retaining the inspo and drive necessary to write that much is harddddd lmfao

before writing i always do have a solid idea where i want it to start and go and end though. like that ponyboy jumping fic i Knew i wanted to have pony get jumped in the opening scene, then go home, try to break down cutting his own hair, brothers come in and talk him down and it ends with talking abt johnny, even if i didn’t like. List that all out in words in a document.

definitely do research!!! espppp for outsiders bc it was like 60 years ago!!! well researched fics are soooo obviously tonally different and it’s always super obvious imo when that sort of care is put into ur writing. that fic i wrote about darry getting a panic attack was important researching bc panic attacks weren’t well known or researched or even Called panic attacks back then, so it’d be hella jarring seeing like 1967 13y/o pony whip out “you’re having a panic attack darry 🤓👆” yk lmfaoo

i SOO get the perfectionism and having no due dates thing btw. i have literally like 5 fics i’ve started and not finished in my docs rn with like 15 more ideas i wanna write someday. tbh! try to enter that Hyperfixation Zone and be really excited about what you’re making!!! helps it go by easier bc i swear sometimes i’ll write fic and it feels like pulling teeth even though it’s supposed to be fun!!!

last thing. try and find friends to bounce ideas off of and go crazy with you <3 or ppl to beta read!!! makes writing SO much easier and sm more fun having a your own lil personal cheerleader!!! if you ever need a beta id be soooo happy to read whatever you’ve got and hype u up!!! <3 i hope this helped at least a little bit LOL my writing process is kinda chaotic ngl

[necrotic-nephilim]

Sorry if this might be a rude question but why don’t you just make a seperate account for your nsfw fics?

not rude, it's a valid question! tbh it's a combination of a couple reasons.

i started posting anonymous dead dove batcest fics long before i had the balls to make a tumblr. at first i was content to just leave them unassociated with each other because i didn't really care about them being tied to me. i made this blog to actually show solidarity to my partner who wanted to make a sideblog for Sandman comic stuff so we could cheerlead each other and be brave together, since i've wanted to make a batcest sideblog but i've been nervous about actually having to get it going. (mal ik you're reading this go be brave and actually make your blog so i can cheerlead you damnit-) only did it dawn on me then that i should probably mention the fics i've written on the blog after like, three of them were posted anonymously. and it would've annoyed me to have half of them anonymous and half of them not, because notifications for them would've gone in different places. i could go back and take my fics off anon if i wanted to, but i can't switch the account they're on without taking them down entirely and that'd fuck over people who have them bookmarked already.

which, ties into my second reason, if i made an entire second ao3 account it'd be harder for me to see notifications, reply to stuff, and post things for both accounts because i'd have to constantly switch. and honestly i'd be terrified of accidentally posting on the wrong one on a brain fog day. posting fics is always the most tedious part of writing them for me lol. it's easier for me to stay logged into one account and have all of my stuff in one place for me and just use the anonymous collection when i feel like it. if ao3 pseuds worked like tumblr blogs, where you can't see all my side blogs but i can, i would've used pseuds, but since you can see all pseuds on an ao3, i felt it was a moot point.

and the last reason is i just feel more comfortable being anonymous on ao3 because of the rise in anti culture. on tumblr it's very easy for me to just filter that out and find the people i want to follow and block the people i don't. i don't mind getting hate, on tumblr or on ao3. but i think, for whatever reason you want to blame it on, there's been a massive boom of antis on ao3 who are very entitled about how they read on ao3. i tag extensively, but i just feel safer from getting targeted attacks if everything i write on ao3 isn't attached to one profile. if people like a fic i wrote, want to find more i always link my tumblr in the notes, but if an anti wants to get huffy with me, they can't easily track down my other things. they definitely could if they wanted to, but being anonymous on ao3 just makes me feel more secluded, in a weird way. it's like saying "if you want you can come find me but on here i'm just a weird faceless guy throwing stuff in the void". i've used ao3's anon feature a lot, actually, i used to be a hydra trash party dumpster kid back when that was in it's prime.

i also used to be vaguely popular on a different tumblr blog and my main ao3 and while i think it'd definitely be cool if i got a decent chunk of followers on this blog too, i don't really miss having fanfiction do so well i got targetted hate on all of my fics from the same people, i had my fics stolen, etc. it was really exhausting for me. i have 120+ works on ao3, not counting what's anonymous, and that level of exposure tires me, even when i use my main ao3 to post things that aren't trashy. it's just a weird feeling knowing so many people are subscribed to you on ao3 and what if you post something they won't like because you jumped fandoms again, or you're posting something niche, or you don't think it fills enough fandom tropes to be well-liked. i used to obsessively think like that, and it made me not write the things i wanted to because i cared about numbers. and i don't want to slide back into that hole. writing on anonymous is mostly to remind myself i wrote this for me, and if other people like it, they can come find me, but i don't have to perform like that anymore. if i get a really weird fucked up idea, i can write the really weird fucked up idea. at the end of the day, just makes me more comfortable! but i get it's a super confusing set up from an outsider perspective so, i really don't mind the question, thank you for asking!!

[lady-phasma]

Hi, what I’ve noticed particularly about the house of the dragon fandom is that unless you’re a good fic writer or are friends with a good fic writer the fandom ignores you . I’ve seen people on here and TikTok make friends online that become friends irl . I know that’s not always the case but it seems to me that unless your s good fic writer here or a good editor on TikTok the fandom ignores you . I don’t get it . As if people who don’t write fics don’t have opinions or can discuss things . It’s really upsetting to

Hi nonnie. I'm so sorry you're upset. 💕 First, hugs.

Second, full disclosure, Tumblr is my only "social media" aside from a Facebook account I use to mostly stay in touch with family and friends from college. So I can't speak about TikTok creators. I would very much like for you to reply to this if you feel like it. I'm going to tag you as 💝 but please let me know if you want a different one.

The reason I hope you'll respond is so you know that your opinion matters. If you want to share your opinions with me I will listen and usually respond pretty quickly. Also, I would like to know your thoughts on "good fic writer" - I'm just going to say creator as a general term in this answer but I don't think the qualifier "good" matters and here's why...

If that is your perception and, perhaps the perception of other non-creators, it might be a little skewed because creators on all platforms tend to connect with one another for advice, criticism, tips, or help (like beta reading). That's why I'm not going to qualify someone's creativity with good/bad.

I truly do not want anyone in the fandom to feel this way. At all. Not ever. You do not deserve to be ignored. You have thoughts and opinions and they are interesting. Finding the niche group we fit in with is as difficult online as it is in real life.

I can't speak about TikTok, but for Tumblr, I think writers might appear to be the "loudest" because this is a platform that people use to read fanfiction. Does that mean that I think only fic writers should have the bullhorn? Of course not, and there are a few blogs who aren't fic writers, mostly nonfiction or opinions, and they get seen. So I would like to ask you this:

Do you not feel heard because a specific person or group belittled your thoughts? Or do you not feel heard because you don't feel like you are having the amount of personal interactions in the HotD fandom that you expect?

Lastly, I don't know about making friends irl from Tumblr. I have made friends who I chat with off Tumblr and have known for ages it seems and we still haven't shared our real names! (And I love them so much!) Tumblr is a bizarre and lovely place. "Social media" has really only been applied to Tumblr retroactively. Sure, we come here to socialize, but I don't assume that I will meet any of my lovely friends in real life. There's absolutely no pressure.

I don't want to take up too much more of your time but I would be honored if you would be my friend. I don't mean you have to out yourself in my DMs or come off anon. I want to know that you're okay, I don't want to worry about you. I want you to not feel ignored. As unhinged, insane, toxic, and exciting as the HotD fandom is, it's got some amazing people in it, just like any fandom. I found that I had to reach out to some people first and that's hard for a lot of folks. I have made other friends because they reached out to me first. If you do come back to my inbox (I sincerely hope you do), I'm curious how long you've been in the fandom/on tumblr, but only tell me what you're comfortable with. And if you just want to fill my inbox with fandom thoughts, that's okay too! I'm here for you.

[catboydogma]

🍉🍊🍍🍇 for the ask game ^.^ ?

there is a whole basket in here!! thank u sm :D

fruity lil ask game

🍉 - Do you prefer to write short fics or long fics? Multichaptered works or single ones? Why?

for convenience and publishing/interaction i like short fics (easier and faster to get them out, they're one and done so i dont have to worry about them after like a night or two of writing, and they tend to get a higher popularity:effort ratio lol) but i like WRITING long fics, especially with multiple chapters. i have some kind of beast in me that turns what should be short story ideas into full length novels. i get an idea and oobh baby i just get so excited about naming chapters and engineering subplots and making up some nice Motifs and Themes. vide noir and CHTHONIC are good examples honestly, i originally planned for both of them to be single works--so vide noir got weird pacing and then dropped and picked back up as a result and i essentially wrote CHTHONIC in one night, went "oh god this is too fucking long" and chopped it in three pieces. i just like things to have a slow release arc when writing and plotting, so long works with multiple stages and movements are just extremely satisfying for me to both plot and execute lol

🍊- Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

DOGMAAAA. yeah. sorry everyone who followed me for the url and my early dogma fics. i do have a longfic force sensitive dogma in the works (VERY preliminary works) but i do keep getting distracted lol. i've always wanted to write a hanzo shimada-pov overwatch fic, and i'm really tempted by one day writing a qui-gon or qui-gon-and-obi-wan centric fic.

🍍- What kind of AUs do you like? Are there any AUs you hate or just generally have beef with?

i honestly like any au that's real fucking weird or takes a stock au and puts a twist in it (eg i had SUCH a fun time writing chronic illness hanahaki in heavy off a golden hue). even though they usually are my least-read/-commented fics, i also have a huge soft spot for niche fusion aus, like sw in pacific rim dark day/brighter night or sw in overwatch where the stray things go (more coming soon?? perhaps 😌) or the cyberpunk au with empire & the sun .

i usually won't read/write soulmate aus (i did enjoy writing them but both one billion day funeral and give the world away/wake up lonely were both prompt fills) because 1) the base soulmate au contrivance is tedious (IMO. NOTHING WRONG WITH ENJOYING WHAT YOU ENJOY. I SIMPLY DO NOT ENJOY IT) and 2) to me it's simply not worth wading through the oodles of soulmate au to find one that has an interesting "how do you know your soulmate" worldbuilding idea AND handles the whole "soulmate" thing in an interesting manner. i also will never write a time travel fic because i do not like time travel. not really sure what it is but i've always despised time travel as a plot device lol. but i have read a couple that i quite enjoyed (reccing miyaji_08's and back we go and blueberrywizard's i have seen too much (i haven't seen enough) and cjwritesfanficnow's (you were) meant to save them for this) so i'm not the man i once was ....

🍇- What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there’s almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn’t been written yet, etc.)

ouagh i feel like in my time in sw servers and talking to other sw friends that i've gone on and on about stuff that i find underrated but i've forgotten everything i've ever said about star wars now. i'm not really In There but spymaster satine (can't remember who brought this to me, maybe @/deniigi?) e.g. a satine that is a pacific willing to get her hands dirty like, you know, an actual and productive pacifist and not just a "hm .... i simply choose to do nothing" kind of "pacifist." relatedly, and i haven't done much for this so i'm a hypocrite, i'm a padme/satine truther. i also loooooove fics where the GAR structure is changed so the clone commanders have rank over the jedi but criminally i think i've only read like one (GO READ FIRST CHOICE BY SMILEBACKWARDS!!!)

[rawmeknockout]

oh oh talking about your fics without requesting,,, 🥺👉👈 i love your small niche of “person on the lost light and EVERYONE gets jealous over them” fics, those r probably my favorite because I love the mental image of just Some Guy getting the LL to go crazy over them, and we don’t even know why !! maybe their Some Guy-ness is just so pathetically normal that it’s exactly what others crave akdndn (the one where various bots were fighting over lap time was friggin adorable, I love going back to read that)

lets b honest, the mechs on the lost light are so attention starved a normal ass dude could walk up in there with normal ass behavior and mannerisms and the entire crew would be like "i want you"

those are some of my favorites to write because being the center of romantic attention is an absolute guilty pleasure, im human i want attention just like any other and if youre on my blog thats probably what youre after too teehee

theyre also really easy to fill so its one of my fave types because its easier to do one paragraph reactions for each mech than to write a little blurb but thats just me

i imagine the lost light as one giant polycule that no one knows theyre in, everyone has weird feelings for each other and sexual tension is rampant its why their pairings are so fun bc theyre all so plausible

[mushiemellows]

Letting the poison- my writing schedule for the rest of the summer:

1) Time loop fic chapter 5. The Sanuso chapter. Currently mostly written, just needs the Proper Sparks to bring it home. I’m having a good time pushing myself to write outside my usual tropes, and there’s a sweetness to them that’s intriguing. I just need to blast through the final few thousand words. Then on to chapter 6, the Frinbei chapter. This is a T rated fic so don’t expect anything wild, but I’m going to use it as a chance to test the waters with the dynamic. This whole fic is a lot more warmup and practice, so updates just aren’t as common. Apologies.

2) For the Thrill of It is making a return by popular demand. ~1/2 of chapter 2 has already been written, and then chapter 3 will be published at some point after that. 2 follows familiar ground, 3 is something altogether new. Still ruminating on how I want it to shake out and where it’ll go from here.

3) I know Super Troupers wasn’t it for everyone, but dammit the ideas in my head are still rolling around so I’m going to keep updating it. There might be 4 chapters rather than 2, it depends on how many words I write and how I want to split up these anecdotes from childhood for the boys. It’ll probably go ch2: ages 1-11, ch3: age 12 (I have a specific adventure for them to have here in mind), and ch4: ages 13-18. Or something like that. Probably the one I casually think about the most rn, but that’s just because it’s fresh.

I’m also wanting to squeeze a few little (that’s a lie I don’t write little) one shots out. I really really like the idea of doing this E rated Frinbei side quest, but I might just need to do some uhhhhhh research. And maybe a little soul searching. Need books on bears, bears, and sharks. There’s also the other ideas that have been rolling around for a while, if someone asks I’ll consider putting words to the R/F/L/Z/B scenario that takes up space in my brain.

If anyone of you have anything niche/specific you want to see, you know my asks are always open. I don’t answer these anon requests but I do read them and use them. Not that I’m out of ideas, it just good to know what niches haven’t been filled yet, if you catch my drift. I thrive on feedback. Like, I write for myself, but I also write beyond my own tastes/preferences/k*nks. Especially now, I’m expanding into territory outside my usual comfort zone (none of this has ever been comfort zone what am I talking about???) as I explore other stories.

ALSO I will be taking some time off at the end of July to focus on writing my own thing, but you’ll never see that hahaha.

TLDR Time loop Sanuso and FtToI re:ch2 over the next 2 weeks. With possible baby adventures before I go on my sabbatical. The rest in August.

[thornswoggled]

Hello! I wanted to share some thoughts and questions and honestly this probably will be really jumbled up but here we go!, okay so I’ve been thinking (wanting) Chise can obviously Do sleeping magic as Angelica had said in one chapter were chises Magic and her Special technique will be more towards sleeping as we know. Which led me to thinking what if Chise sings another song? Not a lullaby maybe her own song Were she accidentally sings someone to sleep and if that happens will she do it Out in a fit if anger finally? What if Her dragon curse (a death curse) triggers in her song and it turns into kinda like a Song of death?,And not just that but what if a type of event happens for example Something goes on With the college maybe it involea that new mage that showed up or something else entirely. As we know Elias does favors and solve problems for the church. and mages will keep there word involving deals and promises and doing tasks for something in return. So I was thinking Elias does something for the college for something in return and it Involves an event. Elias goes to the event and maybe it’s an event only for Mages or entity’s and creatures and Faye so Elias can go. But what if chise comes along as a plus one? Or instead she ends up coming along because. Hold on let me finish that thought in a minute. As we know in the college arc There’s the Houses the sargant house and obviously these are known as the Seven Shields so what if Chise ends up going along to this event with the St. George’s and Elias doesn’t know? What if Elias informs chise he’s going to be out on business you know and he’ll be back in 3 days or something. And Maybe prior It’s brought up that Chise does sing and so maybe this event loses there lead singer or something goes wrong and there’s a spot a performer is supposed to fill. So somehow chise stands on the stage and she sings you know? Elias is there and he’s dumbfounded or something but imagine she’s Singing her sing infront of a bunch of Faye and maybe even that new mage from the latest chapter is there. And chise is now just exposed Maybe her voice is leaking mana and projecting some sort of spell and maybe she gets stage fright and Her dragon curse leaks through you know, her eyes change color and again she’s exposed Faye’s are drooling over her Sleigh Veganess and it’s this whole thing? And maybe Joseph’s Joins Elias (he probably wants out of his Well or something and maybe he knows about the event maybe it’s yearly and he’s been then before maybe he has more of status after all In one of the episodes specifically the graveyard one he says that parts and martial are hard to come by and expensive so that instigates he’s been in the black market and maybe is well known in some fashion) anyway I’m just really wanting and curious to see chise Singing and putting herself in danger in some fashion but i don’t want her singing some sort of Lamb Lullaby about 16272 sheep and NO! I need something more and again with Elias literally not knowing chises taste in music, this will make his curiosity peak and he’ll be like so stiff his red Beaty eyes watching her perform it something. My mind has short circuited so many times typing this it’s probably so all over the place and my thoughts become unfinished leading on to more and more thoughts about tamb. Oh wait I just had this whole Arc idea and speculations about tamb. I’ll come back later

wow you could probably get a pretty lengthy fic out of that idea!

as for why we've never seen chise sing again, i think shes justifiably afraid of messing someone up again - potentially harming elias and being without his guidance for several days seems to have shaken her a little. but also shes still very new to magic, and hasnt found her niche yet... theres her singing, but theres also this depiction of her magic taking the form of plants/vines, and on top of all that she also has a dragons curse so that comes with its own stank. and on TOP of THAT, there are also people who say things like "chise would probably excel at xyz magic if she was taught properly." all of this is to say she has her fingers in a lot of pots. personally i will be fine if we never see her sing again because i get secondhand embarrassment when people sing in fiction... but thats my own hangup

can someone please get chise a ticket to warped tour. oh, well, wait, that was only a north american thing.... can someone please get chise a ticket to wacken open air. she could do a death growl if you let her. i know this

[thestalwartheart]

what fic of your gave you the most unexpected (positive or negative and everything in between) feedback?

Wow - this a great question! Two fics spring to mind (sorry - I’m always like this! I can never pick just one 😩).

The reaction to see it real has been so much more positive and enthusiastic than I could have ever expected. I was really afraid? intimidated? hesitant? when it came to writing kink since it’s been done so well by so many people. But I think ‘see it real’ filled a niche a lot of people were looking for, and it’s really quickly shot up in terms of stats, especially since I finished it.

I expected nothing but people screaming at me for garden and, to be fair, I did get that in spades! But there was also lots of lovely feedback from readers who apparently love reading about unrequited love, and there was even someone who said “Yes!! Stalwart is writing 00Swann” 😂 (Loved that for them). So all in all, people were much nicer about that fic than I’d expected (even the people who yelled at me).

There’s been some negative feedback to a couple of my fics, but I don’t like giving that sort of thing more time and air than it deserves! 99.9% of my readers are so lovely ❤️

Thanks for the question @l219tj!

[intermundia]

Hi! I saw ur post about your birthday, so first off, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Second, thank you so much for sharing your fics - they are genuinely so damn spectacular! I can’t really pick a favourite so in lieu of that I’m just going to rant about some favourable mentions :)

I’m a huge philosophy nerd, so your Symposium fic is the chefs kiss of fanfic and academia! I’ve reread it so many times now and, each time, I find another platonic element or link to the philosophy, and I basically scream with joy. Also mixing the Jedi with Plato’s philosophy is such an interesting and well-fitting mix! Like the realm of forms parallel to the force, obikin and the ladder of love parallel to their relationship, and obv the master apprentice dynamic so central to the symposium. Even the cave allegory in one way, like, once they start talking about love, obi wan can’t unhear it - he can’t go back from the light, in that regard. It’s so amazing to read a fic and keep on finding new things to love; reading it just brightens my day, and because I can’t send you an exorbitant number of kudos on ao3, please let this stand in their place <3<3<3

and don’t get me started on lex talionis! It’s such a gripping narrative!!! Like, for the first half/three quarters, there’s this slow decline in everyone’s mental state, relationships, and in general wellbeing. And it felt like I wanted to climb the walls, almost shouting at my screen, because if they would just TALK or THINK, but it’s like a tragedy because the CANT or at least as they are at the beginning they can’t, and that was so wonderful to read. A huge part of that was that I was already invested in the characters, so the stakes were raised from the get-go, but also it was the way you mirrored the drama of canon’s breakdown, and you managed to do that on a completely different playing field. And THEN you made them CHANGE!!! And it felt plausible! It felt in character! And all the hope and joy that they lost was returned, but it wasn’t the same, and that was okay!!! And to me, it felt like that decline and rise mirrored the way you integrated Roman history (I could very well be wrong lol); fall of the republic, rise of the Augustan empire - things are irrevocably changed, but they’re still standing! They’re alive! It’s so deeply moving and emotional, I can’t even articulate it as well as I’d like! Also, I was wondering, in LT, did u base any particular characters’ arcs on actually folks from Roman history? And what would you say is your favourite ancient person in general? It’s so interesting to see how ur Classics background informs your writing. In the most complementary way I can say it, it’s giving off ancient history Tolkien vibes, which is genuinely so inspiring to me as someone who wants to find their own writing niche

thank you so much for your writing, and I hope your next year ‘round the sun is filled with joy 🥳🥳🥳

yesss augustus was definitely a central inspiration for me for my fall of the republic story!! just as i think he was for lucas, with his ascension to supreme executive power and institution of an empire, the way he participated in and then brought a devastating period of civil war to a close, offering up long desired peace and security under his autocratic rule. he's a popular leader whose figure looms large as an example still after thousands of years. i wanted obi-wan to 'win' in the same way he did, usurping palpatine's claim to being that leader who took advantage of chaos to seize power.

i just think obi-wan would be such a devastating sith lord, brilliant and charismatic, who could outplay sidious at his own game, very much in the tradition of augustus's strategic decisions. obi-wan lies to himself about it, but his corruption is to always seek ever expanding circles of control. anakin and the clones have strong personal loyalty to him, echoing the loyal legions in civil war that swept octavian into power. padmé has shades of cicero and other republic figures who lost out and were removed from public life (i let her keep her life though ofc).

basically the whole political aspect was modeled on the fall of the roman republic haha you got that exactly right. i'm just so thrilled that you've engaged with the classical influences that i both consciously and unconsciously include in my stories. that's such an unbelievably kind analogy with tolkien, thank you!! there are just so many greek and roman figures that have fascinated and compelled me: homer and hesiod of course, pythagoras and heraclitus among other presocratics, aristotle's virtue ethics, and the moral philosophers of rome like epictetus and marcus aurelius are very dear to my heart.

other favorites are thucydides and herodotus, euripides and aescylus. pericles and alcibiades are fascinating figures. in terms of rome, cicero and catiline, catullus and horace, lucretius and seneca, virgil and ovid, tacitus and plutarch. the lives of antony and cleopatra especially are fascinating. so is alexander ofc, but i spent most of my time on archaic greece not the hellenistic period. i could keep going saljkdlkfdjsa but i will stop, thank you for the excuse to geek out!!!! it's always fun to think about, so i invent as many excuses to do so as possible haha

[fireandiceland]

2, 3 and 25 for the fandom ask meme? :P

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

I answered this one before and it’s a tough question cause I think of pretty much all characters as switch/verse. I’m going with a very niche character for my answer because I truly think almost all of them switch it up sometimes. But honestly, 2p America is a true bottom at heart. I would be lying if I said I never thought about him topping, I even have a sequel to a fic planned where he’ll be the top (but in a very submissive way <3). But he’s just not cut for that. He’s a bottom and a brat and a pillow princess. Too lazy to top/be dominant and too pampered when it comes to sex.

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

I got this one before and ngl I spent all evening trying to think of more than what I said earlier, causw my dashboard is so well curated at point I don’t really see bad takes anymore? But I just remembered the time some bitch told me I cannot headcanon Molossia as straight and trans and I’m ??? 😂 WHAT?? Maybe not the worst take but it was stupid and completely out of place to say that in the tags under my post wtf.

Also that time someone said “Arthur is the guy having sex to that godawful reddit song.” …just, no.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

"the fandom is dead and I never get any notes!!1!" bro it's literally not, my dash is filled with content and I'm getting notes on my posts. not thousands of them, sure, but people are there. just follow them and interact: like, REBLOG, comment, send asks! The fandom is Not Dead.

choose violence ask game

[orchideous-nox]

Have Yourself A Merry Roseweed Christmas

In honour of it being the season for giving, I decided to bring back my favourite crack ship, Roseweed (Evan Rosier x weed selling cobbler's boy < 3 from my cowboy au fics) as a present to my friend @futurequibblerjournalist

If you are seeing this and don't celebrate Christmas or havent read my wolfstar or rosekiller cowboy au, then enjoy the most niche 420 (ha) words that will probably mean nothing to everyone else! Without further delay (because I have been annoying my dear friend about this for a week and a half at this point), enjoy! ~~~~~~~~~

Snow fell in Montreal on Christmas Eve like a thick flurry of cocaine. Not that weed selling cobbler’s boy < 3 had any experience with coke, his heart only beating with the adrenaline of two addictions, weed and Evan Rosier. Shovelling a clear path on the driveway, he glanced up to see the front door opening. Out stepped his fiancé, holding two mugs of hot chocolate, offering one out to weed selling as he got closer. Weed selling pulled him in by the waist, kissing his lips quickly before taking the mug and watching steam curl up.

“My love, my light, my life, I do not deserve you. You are too good to me.” Grinned weed selling, hand resting on the small of Evan’s back. They were a long way from Oklahoma, visiting the Rosier family for Christmas before returning home in the new year.

“Oh, weed seller, there is no doubt in my mind that my love for you could stretch father than the edge of the last galaxy a mind could even fathom.” With a blush to his cheeks, weed seller, kissed Evan again with a smile, letting himself linger.

“You always say the most wonderful things. You must truly love me.” He muttered against Evan’s lips before finally pulling away and taking a sip of his hot chocolate, smelling something different about it.

“It’s hot chocolate infused with cannabis.” Evan grinned, drinking from his own mug and watching as weed seller began walking inside, leaving his shovel propped up on the porch. Evan must have lit a candle because weed seller could smell the strong scent he’d come to associate with the night they got engaged.

“Oh, babe, you really are the best.” He sighed as he walked into the living room. Around the room, his favourite candles covered every surface, lit to fill the room with the ever present smell of weed.

“Don’t get emotional, please!” Evan placed his mug down, hurrying over to weed selling cobbler’s boy < 3 and cupping his face in his hands, thumbs wiping away tears he hadn’t even realised were there.

“I’m not crying, love, the candles are just really strong.” He laughed, shaking his head until he realised the record player was on, the soft sounds of La Vie en Rose crackled through the speaker and he set down his hot chocolate, taking Evan into his arms. They swayed gently, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

“Merry Christmas, weed selling. I love you.”

“I love you too, my dear, Merry Christmas.”

[xyilous]

You said you wanted Corey fic ideas? Well I have a few: Maybe some date, Fluff ABCs, domestic life, soft moments, etc

headcanon style >:)) gn reader for this one !!

i pray i don’t disappoint 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️i can write off the top of my head but i’m worried about messing up LOL

most of these can be read as platonic or romantic, maybe i just have no boundaries who knows

ok you gotta hear me out on this, i strongly feel like Corey would take to cooking, especially post accident. sounds a little out there but i feel like it’d be a niche hobby that’d give him control over something? Yes his mom would probably try and force him to eat what she makes BUT I STAND BY WHAT I SAID 🤺🤺

he’d wake you with breakfast, something simple like eggs and bacon so it’s not a massive feast but is also enough to fill you. it’d be like an ice breaker, in his mind it’d be easier to start a convo about food instead of how he slept.

If you don’t like breakfast food/what he made specifically he’d get all embarrassed and then make you have a long talk about eachother’s likes and dislikes, any allergies if you have them, he absolutely keeps an incredibly accurate list of your tastes in his head.

Food stuff aside, i feel like he’s very touchstarved, i cant see his mother being very loving considering he’s a man and obviously you cannot show them kindness. The first night you shared a bed he was very rigid, almost afraid to accidentally touch you but would ease up once he actually fell asleep. After a few nights he’s settled more and if you’re comfortable with it he’d lay his arm across your waist, he’s so incredibly gentle and hardly any weight is on you. The jeremy accident made him paranoid of somehow hurting you, his brain would come up with god awful scenarios like him accidentally pushing you off the bed and then you get a concussion from hitting the floor.

Positions aren’t crazy strict, he’s down for being a little spoon just as much as he’s down for being the big spoon. Holding onto you would let him feel more in control but he’d have such a big soft spot for being held tenderly, laying with his chest in your lap is one of his favorites. Any kind of contact us accepted to be honest, just care for him i beg of you. Post Michael would lean a LOT more to being a big spoon though, gotta keep you safe.

This feels fluffish to me so? hopefully it works out around here 💀💀 You’d be like his personal nurse (fuck off allyson) and after any fights he’d run to you to doctor him up. Clean and bandage what’s needed, get him an ice pack for this and that, maybe put some muscle rub on the extra sore places. Corey would sit perfectly still as you tend to his wounds with care, his eyes would follow every movement you make, trying to take in everything you do. Whether it was to know what to do if he can’t find you or if he was completely fascinated with your hands is up to you. He’d get a bit drowsy once the adrenaline wears off so you might have to tap his shoulder now and then to wake him up :((

In general i feel he’s very tired 24/7, theres so much going on with him that i know he doesn’t sleep near as much as he should. Between the town constantly tearing into him and the guilt from the accident, his mind has to be running all the time. There’s been so many shared nights between the two of you were he rambled about everything weighing him down, doing his absolute best to not let his eyes water too much or his voice shake, at some point he’d shift to get more comfortable and just start dozing off out of pure exhaustion.

Branching off him being a sleepy head, he has accidentally fallen asleep many times, you let him sleep since it seems like he could really use it and when he wakes up he’d apologize immensely, sputtering out how he couldn’t sleep well the night before and that his mom wouldn’t let him sleep in a bit more. (side note, he can sleep anywhere, in anything, and under any condition. no tv? ok. lights on? that’s fine! no blanket in cold weather? could be worse :)) if you’re watching a movie past 9pm he’s gonna fall asleep, let him 🤺🤺

Most dates with Corey would most likely be spent at home considering his reputation. He’s worried that you’ll get targeted for hanging out with him, but now and then he likes to go out late to the park, nobody’s up around then. Home dates can be anything from binging a series with popcorn and blankets to throwing flour at each other baking brownies and cookies. If you ever need an ingredient or spontaneously decide that you need sprinkles he’s already grabbing his keys and wallet to get them (and probably extra) If it’s october and spooky events are happening he’s probably gonna drop hints about going because he’d be able to wear a mask, nobody would recognize him therefore nobody can torment him!! He’d be shy and try to avoid asking, not wanting you to feel forced into it, but would be ECSTATIC if you enthusiastically agree! you willingly want to be seen with him? He’s gonna die from sheer happiness.

if you do have a park date he will push you on the swings, no questions asked

Another one you gotta hear me out on, I feel like he’d enjoy having his makeup done, adds onto that whole disguise thing like above^^ He would be too shy to wear it out/home, but i feel like post michael Corey would be fine with a little bit of eyeliner. Would be a little apprehensive to full and dramatic looks, but would still let you have your fun.

This is quite a bit out of character, but after a kill he’d come seeking comfort, not necessarily being patched up but he wants to be held for a bit. My personal headcanon is that he’s still got the broken down Corey in him, he’s aware of what he’s done even if it was a twisted version of him tainted by Michael and wants to be told it wasn’t his fault. After the Jeremy accident he’d want to be told the same thing, but never really verbalized it. Michael changed him so much, and there was nothing he could do. It wasn’t a sole accident and he wanted so badly for someone else to tell him that