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slttygeto · 13 days ago

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༉‧₊˚. PLAYLIST

༉‧₊˚. episode 07: off the table

preview: ". . . Now as he stands in your apartment, he realizes that no amount of protection was enough to keep you away from Hanma’s venomous grip. He was intoxicating and once he sinks his fangs into you, there is no way out. The rough love bites were an indication of that. . ."

content warning: smut! dirty talk, hair pulling, fingering, handjobs, pronebone!! (she's a filthy one), mention of abandonment issues.

word count: 5k

➜ ┊: @softshuji @mitsuwuyaa @kariatenoh @reiners-milkbiddies @citrusteaa@bejeweled-night-33

➜ MASTERLIST

➜ note: the google doc file for this fanfic has officially reached 100 pages woohoooo 🥳🩷 im actually very excited because this is where the story picks up and starts to get a little saucyyyy 😋🙌🏻btw, ex boyfriend reveal!! had to include the fan favorite, the fandom's boyfriend: mitsuya takashi himself🙂‍↕️and sorry to disappoint yall, chifuyu is just our friend, he doesn't wanna get in our pants. anywayyy can't wait for the next chapter hehe🥰

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

“Chifuyu,” you sound out of breath. Hair disheveled and such choice of clothing confirms to the man that you hadn’t intended for anyone to visit you this time of the night. You stare back at the man, hair now dyed jet black and sporting a very fancy suit, and it dawns on you how long you haven’t seen him.

An entire decade.

Chifuyu didn’t intend for the two of you to separate this way, but clearly he had no choice but to keep you away from Toman’s nasty business (something Hanma failed to do). When he first heard that you were going to move away for your studies, he was sad and the two of you cried as you hugged at the train station with your boyfriend by your side. He remembers the man you used to date and feels his heart sink.

“Can we talk?”

What’s up with men from your past showing up at your door? Not that you mind Chifuyu’s presence, a part of you was still mad that he had lied for all these years about his whereabouts. He doesn’t have to tell you for you to figure it out, the way he fiddles with his thumbs and avoids your eyes as you lead him inside says it all.

“So?”

“What are you doing?” Chifuyu jumps straight to the point, and you’re a bit taken aback by how alarmed he sounds. “With Hanma what are you– this isn’t right, you know that?”

“Oh I’m sorry, did you come here to lecture me? It’s been 10 years, Chifuyu!” you cross your arms over your chest, heat rising to your face. “You lied about where you were and you lied about being with Toman–”

“For a good cause!” Chifuyu’s volume rises and you scoff. “You had to stay away from Toman’s business.”

“Why does everyone think it’s okay for them to decide how I get to live my life?” you question bitterly and Chifuyu’s lips are sealed shut. “I mean really–first Ran and Rindou, then Hanma comes back and he’s acting all mysterious and now you?”

“You can get hurt.”

“I don’t care.” You spit out venomously. “You have no idea how isolating it feels to watch everyone around you distance themselves from you thinking it will protect you. All it did was make me scared to try to make friends.”

Truth be told, it wasn’t just Chifuyu or your brothers or even Hanma that you were mad about. Not their absence, or their lies or their futile attempts to shelter you from a familiar life of crime and violence –you were bitter about where you had ended up, what you could’ve had with your previous lover that went so badly even you couldn’t recover from it.

When you moved away for your studies, your relationship with your brothers had already been strained, broken even. They had betrayed your trust in irreconcilable ways, so you turned to the one person you loved so much. You loved and cherished him, you were ready to offer up your heart to him as he whispered promises of a happy family in the near future, with a big house and a pretty garden where you'd water the plants and harvest some vegetables. Then he’d come home and he would show you the latest piece of clothing he had designed for you. You’d wear it happily and show it off to him as he gave you a look mixed with adoration and lust. He promised that he would fill your tummy to the brim, that he would fuck a baby into you as many times as you wanted. It was a shared dream of yours.

Perhaps it was too good to be true.

That man switched up on you overnight–because of a project that had been consuming him for a month straight, he wasn’t able to spend time with you anymore. Becoming a fashion designer was everything to Mitsuya Takashi. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to let anything hold him back even if it was a partner.

You had been in a long, six year relationship when Mitsuya started to put more distance between the two of you, prioritizing his projects over date nights and coming home very late at night after events and gatherings. And every time you tried to talk to him about it–about your relationship–you were met with nothing but a look of exhaustion and disdain. The warmth he once had for you was gone and was soon replaced by a cold, distant look. His touch no longer lingered against your skin during the early hours of the morning, sex had become a chore to the same man who would spend hours making love to you under the moonlight.

That’s when you realized that perhaps, it was time to part ways.

It wasn’t easy at all–you cried in his arms and he apologized for not being able to keep his promise of the perfect family the two of you were once eager to have. And before the two of you could part ways, you watched as the man reached for his neck to unclasp the jewelry wrapped around it. Stepping behind you, he wrapped the necklace around your neck and the two of you shared one last warm look, filled with the love you will always have for one another.

“Keep this. Maybe we’ll meet again one day.”

One day turned into six years of not seeing the lavender haired man. Six years of praying and hoping for something, anything. To no avail. You hadn’t even heard of him on the news, nor were you able to find any of his works anywhere and it broke your heart at the thought of him moving out of the country completely. To think that he needed to change his entourage in order to see some growth–you hope that you weren’t the type of girlfriend to try to grab his wings and pin him to the ground.

Chifuyu had been watching you this whole time. He had been watching your every move, ensuring your safety without having to approach you or so much as get out of his car. He knew of your breakup with Mitsuya, and all he could think of was the last conversation you had with him before moving away for your studies.

“I can’t wait to marry him,” there was a slight blush to your cheeks. Mitsuya had really been the boyfriend to you and Chifuyu could feel the love pouring out of you. “He’ll be such a good dad.”

To say that you were broken after the relationship had ended was an understatement. You didn’t go to work for a week.

But Chifuyu couldn’t approach you still–and all he could do was watch and pray that you take care of yourself and find a way to lift yourself back up.

So it’s safe to say that when Chifuyu heard that Hanma found you, he was enraged. Toman was used to Chifuyu’s calm and collected demeanor–a false facade he had learned to put up in order to get on Kisaki’s good side which helped him a lot. As he approached the man’s office, he could hear a second man’s voice and quickly recognized it to be Hanma’s.

“So what is this about?” Chifuyu doesn’t care that he is interrupting something as he knocks. He waits for Kisaki to tell him to come in and pushes the door open. Hanma’s back is facing him as he sits on the chair and Chifuyu stands near the door with his hands behind his back.

“Kokonoi said that the report concerning his IT business is taking too long due to a bug in the system.” The dark haired man speaks in a monotone voice, his body unmoving. He’s clearly not happy to be here, but he has to do it for his job.

Chifuyu can’t see what’s happening from his position, but he notices that Hanma places a picture on Kisaki’s desk before leaning back in his chair.

“You found her?”

Her. It could be so many people–this girl Kisaki had been stalking, or maybe one of the strippers that had escaped Hanma’s club due to the poor treatment by nasty and rude customers. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the bomb that was about to drop.

“She’s back in Shinjuku.”

“(Name). What was her last name again?” Kisaki brings your picture closer to his face, inspecting and analyzing every feature on your face, down to the way you got dressed.

“Used to be Haitani. Changed it after her brothers got involved in some weird, shady business.”

Chifuyu’s body tenses up when the two men mention your name. He’s managed to keep you away from this mess for years now, yet his plan was coming crashing down from a single interaction with Hanma Shuji. The dark haired man was terrified that Hanma was after you just for fun, that his attempts at protecting you would fail now that the tall, tattooed man was back in your life.

“And? What do you wanna do now?” Kisaki puts the picture away and starts to rummage through papers in his drawers, he doesn’t lift his gaze as he continues. “Do you want the men to take her away or?”

No no no–Chifuyu can’t let that happen. He can’t and won’t let anyone hurt you. His fists clench on his sides, body tensing up. Then he notices. Hanma had gone eerily silent instead of doing his usual, insane laugh.

Kisaki seems to realize the same thing. Sensing the tall man’s silence, Tetta raises his eyes and notices the deadly look on Hanma’s face. Had it not been Kisaki, a man who’s known him for years and was desensitized to his glares, he would’ve most likely fallen from his chair. His eyes were devoid of any playfulness, and Tetta doesn’t miss the way his jaw clenches.

“No. I don’t want any of them near her.”

Chifuyu still wasn’t able to trust him. It had never been easy to do so, a man as dangerous as Hanma was as unpredictable as a wild card in the deck. Had his intentions been clear, Matsuno wouldn’t feel the need to watch your every move even closer since that day.

Now as he stands in your apartment, he realizes that no amount of protection was enough to keep you away from Hanma’s venomous grip. He was intoxicating and once he sinks his fangs into you, there is no way out. The rough love bites were an indication of that.

Flustered and perhaps feeling as though he was being creepy, he looks away from your neck and watches as you cover yourself more with your robe. You noticed.

“It was to protect you.” Chifuyu’s voice is soft like butter. He doesn’t have it in him to argue with you, he doesn’t want to argue with you he just–

He misses you so much and it was driving him crazy that he held himself back for all these years, and all it took for Hanma was to see you once at a metro station and he was back in your life. It just wasn’t fair.

Losing Baji had taken a toll on Chifuyu’s mental and physical well being. You were worried about the boy and you voiced it out many times to Mitsuya when the two of you went out to get him a couple of snacks as well as some food for his cat.

It was that worry that made the two of you as close as ever even if your friendship was very short lived before you packed your things and moved away. Luckily enough, Takemichi was in the picture and you had nothing to worry about this time.

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that everything Chifuyu has done was to protect you. Even if it meant hurting himself in the process.

“It’s dangerous, Toman.” He speaks lowly as he takes a seat on your couch. “It’s not like how it used to be.”

“I know.” you admit, voice as small as ever. Chifuyu doesn’t want to know how you found out, but he quickly realizes it has something to do with Hanma and sighs deeply.

“Did you ever think it would get this bad?” you ask, taking a seat next to the man who can only sigh and run a hand through his hair.

“I…would like to say no, but things have changed a lot. Mikey is different, people are different–money made them…disgusting.” You remember your first encounter with Hanma. The fancy clothes, expensive shoes and watches didn’t draw a smile on his face. He looked bored out of his mind, like he wanted something to happen in his life and the expression on his face when he realized that he had finally found you after so many years of not seeing you, felt like the first time that man had used his face muscles to smile.

So yeah, Toman was different.

The two of you sit in silence. It’s a comfortable one this time, like a silence between songs–you get to sit and process what you had just listened to and your brain is trying to make sense of everything all at once. But it doesn’t pain you, nor does it leave a heavy feeling behind. You sit there next to your friend from your teenage years and you don’t feel the need to pretend to be anything else. You can be yourself around Chifuyu, even after so many years.

“So,” Chifuyu is the first to break the silence, turning his head as he rests it on the couch. He stares at you with those eyes that mirror a winter sky. “Hanma Shuji, huh?”

Despite his disappointment and perhaps even anger, the man doesn’t miss an opportunity to tease you. You flush at the tone of his voice and look away, completely flustered.

“We don’t have to talk about anything.”

“Is he really that good?” he continues to tease you, narrowing his eyes at you when your jaw drops and you can’t hide that your face was in flames.

“Can we not! Yes, he’s good and we’re two adults having fun.”

“Yeah,” his eyes shift to the love bites on your skin and the state of your disheveled hair. “You’re having a lot of fun.

“Please shut up.” you sigh deeply as you sink on the couch. “He’s actually a pain in the ass.”

“I’m sure he’s a pain in your ass–”

“Seriously!” you cover your face. “...I don’t care. As long as I get some action, I guess.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it, he’s been less annoying lately,” Chifuyu admits. “Don’t get me wrong, he gets on everyone’s nerves–.” typical Hanma. “--but he’s been different lately.”

“Different?”

You can’t deny that this has piqued your curiosity. What Hanma was to you wasn’t the same to everyone else–you’ve known the man as a teenager and meeting him again as an adult, you realize you may have missed the most formative years of his life—the years that shaped him through struggles and hardships, leaving him the monotone, robotic, and emotionless man he is today.

Toman knew an entirely different version, so a small shift in his behavior is easily noticeable.

Chifuyu recalls an incident that happened three nights ago that really solidified to him that there might be something going on with the tall man. Hanma had walked inside the Toman headquarters all wet and disheveled. Not the kind that would leave you wondering if the criminal had sex. It had been pouring outside for hours on no end, and Chifuyu narrows his eyes when he sees Shuji’s wet clothes–however, he doesn’t seem annoyed. He calmly walks towards the front desk where he asks the receptionist (and his personal assistant when he is having a good day) where his bag of spare clothes was. The assistant, clearly taken aback, leads him towards a giant closet and hands him his bag.

“Thanks.” The tattooed man mutters to the assistant who stands there frozen and shocked.

Did Hanma just… thank him?

Even Chifuyu couldn’t believe his own eyes and ears.

“Yeah. A good type of different.” The dark haired male’s hand reaches up to ruffle your hair, a habit he couldn’t get rid of (not that you minded) then pushes himself off the couch.

“Well…I’m glad it didn’t go that bad.”

“It could’ve, had I not missed you so much.” You say in a small voice and Chifuyu’s heart breaks a little.

“Sorry…”

“Oh it’s fine, I’m used to people leaving.” You try to lighten up the mood, but Chifuyu can tell that this wasn’t a joke to you. The thought of people leaving you was terrifying, but you always managed to find a way to brush it off as nothing but an overreaction.

“I won’t lea–”

“Don’t.” A hand rests on Chifuyu’s shoulder, and all he can do is stare at you. He feels the small tremble in your hand, and he can read your mind. He knows what you mean.

You don’t want empty promises.

“Okay.” He whispers in return, resting his hand on top of yours. “I got it.”

—

Just how busy can a criminal’s life be in a city like Tokyo? Well, it depends. If you were to ask Chifuyu, he would tell you that it was very busy–hopping from one meeting to another, helping manage businesses and attending opening nights and events. Kisaki would say the same, although with the help of his assistant, it feels less hectic and suffocating. And the same goes for every man in Toman.

Everyone but a certain tall man.

Hanma’s specialty was torture. His skill relies on methodically, agonizingly breaking a person’s mind and body until they were reduced to an empty shell. He took pride in the way he unraveled them, a twisted thrill evident in his blown-out pupils—enjoying the process far more than any normal person ever would. So missions were a fun part of Shuji’s job.

Until they aren’t, and he has to request for Kisaki to push them back a day or two.

“What?” Kisaki’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean you can’t do it today?”

“Exactly what it means.” Hanma says in a breathy voice, and Kisaki sighs at the end of the line.

“Do I even have to ask why?”

When the tall man laughs, Kisaki’s face twists with disgust. He recognizes that laugh, it was an indicator that Hanma had simply found something far more entertaining than his missions–which was rare to say the least. But he continues to laugh, before heaving out a long, content sigh.

“Oh man,” a tattooed hand brushes the skin of your exposed back, a small meek noise escapes your swollen lips at the touch. “Not sure if I can answer that.” The same tattooed hand then fists your hair and he pulls harshly until your neck is craned at an uncomfortable angle. You try to shoot him a glare, but he pushes his cock deeper and you find yourself biting down on your bottom lip to suppress your noises.

“Bye.” You hear Kisaki hanging up on the other line and look over your shoulder.

“You’re insufferable!” Shuji is amused by the glare you send him, tugging at your hair so that your back is now pressed against his chest.

“I get that often.” You hear the grin in his voice, lips pressed against your ear as he whispers hotly into it. After a beat of silence, Hanma’s hips slam against your ass and your jaw falls open.

“F-Fuck!” you cry out. Shuji’s free hand then goes around your body to grope your boobs, slapping them as he continues to fuck into you hard. Desperately, you dig your nails into his forearm for support and gasp when the hand travels down to your clit.

Your head now rests fully against his shoulder, body twitching and trembling as he continues to thrust into you while rubbing the sensitive bud.

Hanma loved seeing you like this. Not your usual, bratty self who refused to even glance his way–turning you into putty on his cock was something he took pride in, and he couldn’t deny that the more the two of you fucked, the more addicted he became.

A week into your agreement with him, and you had been bent over every surface of your apartment.

First was your couch. Hanma insisted that he wanted to replace the memory of him getting cockblocked by your cat with a nice one. You forgot that the man’s sheer strength was enough to send you reeling, and he wasn’t able to control himself as he snapped his hips against your ass cheeks until the couch had moved spots.

“S-Slow down–!” you tried to beg, powerless as he held your wrists behind your back and pushed your face into the cushion of the couch. Your pussy was squeezing him too tightly for him to think of anything but letting you milk him dry.

“Can’t do t-that doll.” hearing the small stutter in his voice has your stomach fluttering. His fingers dig into your skull as he pushes your face deeper into the couch, muffling any of your noises as he thrusts harder and deeper into you.

Your kitchen counter was next.

The small, crowded space of your kitchen was Hanma’s least favorite spot in your apartment. You shoot him yet another one of your signature glares as he voices his displeasure, and watch as amusement paints his features.

“Small ass kitchen you got here.”

“Not your first time being here.” You try to focus on the food you’re stirring in the pot, and not Hanma’s body towering over yours from behind.

“Anybody fucked ya here before?” His hands grip your waist, pinning you in place and the hand that’s not busy stirring the food grips his forearm.

“Yes Hanma. I am not a virgin.” But given the redness of your face, you might as well be one.

“Oh really? Who was it?”

“You don’t have to know!”

“I gotta know if he was good. Did he make you cum?” You gasp when his hand slides inside your pants, fingers grazing the tuft of pubic hair covered by your panties.

“I-I’m cooking–”

“Did he use his fingers like this?” You feel pathetic as your hand drops the wooden spoon to grip the kitchen counter, body bending forward when the rough pads of his fingers find your clit and start to rub it in circles. He moves further down, collecting some of your arousal before smearing it all over your sensitive bud.

“Stop talking.” You say through gritted teeth, but your hard exterior soon melts away when he pushes his middle and ring finger into your pussy. He doesn’t start slow, nor does he give you time to get used to the sheer size of him as he starts pistoning his fingers into you. Groaning at the feeling of your snug walls gripping his fingers, he buries his face in your neck and pushes you closer to him. You’re reeling at the pleasure, unable to muffle your noises and you would’ve melted to the ground had his arm not been wrapped so tightly around your middle.

As payback, you give him a handjob on your couch.

It’s not that often where you don’t stare at your sexual partners while pleasuring them, but eye contact with Hanma was intense. It felt too…nerve racking for the two of you. So you sit next to him, blanket draped over your laps as your spit covered hand grips his cock. You move it up and down, stroking in the same motion that has the man’s head thrown over the back of the couch and his jaw going slack. From the corner of your eye, you see his reddened cheeks and his furrowed eyebrows and squeeze your own thighs. You ignore the flutter in your stomach, thumbing at his tip and removing the blanket when he starts to buck up his hips, fucking into your hand.

And since you don’t want to make a mess, you wrap your lips around his dick and let him cum down your throat.

“Holy shit,” he says, out of breath. You still refuse to stare at him as you wipe your mouth and grab the remote control to press play again.

Friends with benefits. That’s what the two of you are.

So you don’t expect special treatment as he batters your cunt with his mean cock, nor do you wait for him to caress your body and whisper sweet nothings into your ear after slapping your boobs so painfully. You like that. You like how mean he is and it’s fucking with your head.

The louder you get, the easier it is for Hanma to fuck into you–arousal is dripping down your thighs, and the sound of skin slapping bounced off the walls of your bedroom. You can’t hide how horny you were, or just how good he was making you feel. All you can do in response to his hypnotizing thrusts is grip his skin and leave your own marks. A way to show that he was yours for the night, even if he were to leave after this and go fuck someone else.

“I-I’m cumming,” you gasp, sounding desperate and clearly not in control of your own volume and voice. Your brain feels fuzzy from all the pleasure, Hanma lets go of your hair and pushes you down until you are on all fours. You’re bent over so perfectly for him that a quiet curse escapes his lips. “S-Shuji, I’m cumming–” not Hanma, not asshole. Shuji.

You’re not sure what kind of noises you’re making, but it sounds so pathetic and whiny that it sends the tall man behind you over the edge. However, you make the mistake of looking over your shoulder and the sight that greets you makes your stomach flip.

A sweaty, red faced Hanma is fucking you so eagerly, hypnotized by the recoil of your ass that he forgets to close his mouth. Fucked out is the best way to describe him. A man who is usually either so amused by others’ discomfort and pain, wearing such a pornographic expression makes you grip the bed sheets and moan loudly as you cum all over his cock.

He lets you ride out your orgasm, gripping your ass cheek and kneading the skin before delivering a harsh smack to it as he picks up his pace until he is emptying himself inside your warm walls. Leaning over, he presses his lips against the skin of your shoulders before asking.

“You...You aren’t fucking anyone else, right?”

“You’re asking that now?” After fucking me and cumming inside me so much?

Obviously you’re not fucking anyone else!

“Just answer.” He demands with a slap to your clit that has you squealing, trapped under the weight of his body.

“N-No!”

“Good.” His chin rests comfortably on your shoulder, and he places both hands on either side of your bodies as he presses his body weight against yours. “Good fucking girl.”

Not sure what he would’ve done had you said yes.

“What?” You’re in a haze, but you still manage to catch bits of what he says and Hanma chuckles to himself.

“Don’t worry.”

“No, you said someth–ah!” your jaw goes slack when he starts to fuck you into the mattress. This position allows him to trap you beneath him with so much ease, until you have no choice but to take his cock and blabber nonsense into the pillow.

“Focus baby girl,” his teeth nip at your earlobe as he sinks his cock again into your cunt “I’m not done with ya.”

Guilt is a weak emotion. Fear, anger and even jealousy are much stronger and can affect someone greatly. If consumed by any of the aforementioned, you’ll find out that sleep doesn’t come to you easily.

Insomnia has followed Hanma Shuji his entire life. There hasn’t been a day where he slept through the night without being woken up in cold sweat and a loud gasp, or without feeling the need to reach for the nearest weapon to him. But as he lays next to you at 3 O’clock in the morning, he starts to question what triggers his insomnia. He’s never felt guilty after a mission, anger only consumed him if someone betrayed him–that leaves out jealousy.

His golden eyes land on your worn out, sleeping figure. He chuckles as he notices your furrowed eyebrows, and his hand starts to move towards your face before freezing. What is he doing? He pulls his hand away, eyes drifting towards your exposed chest before pulling up the covers. He sees the pendant of the necklace resting comfortably around your neck and suddenly feels the need to fix it. Before his hand can reach for the jewelry, your fingers grip it protectively and you pull the covers tightly around your body.

Hah. What’s that about?

“No,” his ears perk up when he hears your sleepy voice mumble into your pillow. “..not..go.”

Not go?

You were obviously talking in your sleep. It wasn’t supposed to make sense.

“Don’t..go.” Sleepiness is replaced with distress. “..kashi.”

Hanma scoffs. Honestly, that’s all he can do in such a situation. After fucking you into a deep slumber, you still manage to mumble another man’s name in your sleep. Which was completely fucking fine of course, you weren’t his and he wasn’t yours.

Friends with benefits. That’s what the two of you agreed on.

༉‧₊˚. interested in commissioning me? if not, leave a ko-fi!

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

Text

Another Lie || CL16 {5} - Max's Ending

Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, angst WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Charles) || Five (Max) || 5.1 blurb request

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you sighed as you saw the traffic backed up behind a collision. There was no way you were going to make it to your flight with the busy narrow streets brought to a standstill.

Knowing there was nothing to be done you found a good playlist and hummed along to the songs until you swore you heard your name. Sure enough, when you turned the music down and looked up you found Max Verstappen walking out of the apartment block beside you.

“It is you,” he greeted with a bright smile as he walked up to the door of your rental car.

There was no point leaving the engine running when the traffic wasn’t going to move any time soon, so you turned it off and unbuckled your seatbelt.

“Are you back for good?” he asked as he opened the door for you.

“I was actually on my way to the airport but that doesn’t look like it’s happening now.”

His smile dimmed around the edges. “Oh, what brought you back?”

“The baby shower. Weren’t you invited?” You frowned as you remembered seeing at least Pierre, Carlos and Lando at the venue and there were probably more drivers that you didn’t notice.

“I’m not interested in going anywhere that asshole is. The only place I see him is in my rearview mirrors on the track.”

Your frown deepened at the acidic answer. “I thought you were friends.” They had always been friends off the track and you had even been to Max’s birthday parties with Charles.

“No, that ended in Vegas. My mother used to say we’re only as good as the company we keep, so I told him my opinion and left it at that.”

Your lips parted but you were too stunned to speak and it took a second to recover. “Your opinion?”

His blue eyes held yours as he stepped closer so no one overheard the conversation. “I told him he was a fucking imbecile and that you were better off without him. You deserve better.”

You looked down at your feet with a smile and a soft laugh. “Thank you, Max. I honestly didn’t think anyone cared.”

“I tried to call you to see how you were…” His hand came to rest on the small of your back and guided you off the street that was getting busier as more drivers left their vehicles. “Do you want to come and wait upstairs?”

You looked around the crowd and saw some had their phones out snapping pictures of Max. “Is Kelly here? I don’t want to cause any problems for you.”

“You won’t,” he said quietly as he led the way inside. “She moved out a few months ago.”

“Oh, that sucks. What happened? If you don’t mind. I don’t exactly keep up with the gossip pages anymore.”

He pressed the button for the elevator to the penthouse as he shrugged. “We were at different points in our life and she wanted things I just wasn’t ready for.”

“Commitment?” you asked curiously but he barked a laugh and shook his head.

“Commitment I have no issue with,” he sighed and brushed a hand through his hair as the elevator climbed higher and higher, “but she wanted to have another baby because she was turning 35. I didn’t think age was a good enough reason to bring a child into the world, and I don’t want to be a part time father but I’m sure as hell not ready to retire either.”

Most people misunderstood Max’s blunt honesty as being cold and impersonal but you welcomed the practicality of it after all the lies you had been told. You respected him even more for it.

“And she really wasn’t willing to wait a few more years?”

“I thought she was. She said she was,” he said as he unlocked his door and opened it for you. “When I found her flushing her pills down the toilet, it was over.”

“Oh, Max,” you sighed and wrapped your arms around his waist knowing all too well how hurtful it was to be fed lies. “I’m sorry.”

He was slow to return the hug but you had to admit it felt nice when his arms encircled your waist and you realised it was the first time you had ever actually hugged him.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked after you pulled away not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“I’m not keeping you from your day, am I?”

He shook his head. “I was only going for a walk to get out of the house. My own company wasn’t cutting it.”

“I know that feeling.” You smiled as he spoke of another similarity you shared and followed him to the kitchen. “I’ll have whatever you’re having, thanks.”

He gestured to the kitchen island where a couple of bar stools were tucked away and you took a seat as you inspected the gorgeous home.

“You look great,” Mac said suddenly as he handed you a glass of orange juice. “I almost didn’t recognise you, you look…happy.”

“Thanks…I think,” you chuckled before taking a sip of the drink.

“No, but seriously. Every time I saw you it looked like you were in pain. I guess you were, I just didn’t know why.” He sat beside you with his own glass and ran his finger around the rim. “So tell me, what have you been doing with your freedom?”

An hour later Max had heard all about your ‘recovery time’ as you had called it and he had smiled proudly as you regaled the adventures you had been on after the initial heartbreak. You had then moved out onto his large terrace to enjoy the afternoon, and it was the perfect spot to sit and watch to see when the road was ready to be reopened.

You were disappointed when the road was almost cleared and it was time to start making your way back down. It had been fun hanging out with Max and actually getting to know him. Whenever you had spoken in the past Charles had always been quick to take you away, his jealousy and possessive nature keeping you from ever getting too close to anyone else.

“Are you sure you have to go?” Max asked as he walked you back to your car and saw your luggage on the back seat. “You only just got here.”

“I know,” you sighed sadly. “I didn’t expect to want to stay longer.”

“Can I at least get your new number?” he asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “So I can actually hear how you are doing.”

You grinned as you took his phone and entered the number very few people had. “I’d like that, Max.”

He opened your car door and you surprised him as you threw your arms around his waist but he returned the hug much faster this time.

“I hope I can see you again soon,” he admitted in your ear before he kissed your cheek and stepped back. “I like seeing you happy.”

“Me too.” The smile he had brought to your face would remain there for hours as you slipped into the driver's seat and placed your phone in the holder. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

He closed the door for you and as you pulled away from the curb your phone rang over the stereo. You could see him in the rearview mirror with his phone to his ear and you hit the answer button.

“Hey,” you greeted with a giggle.

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting…”

Four Years Later.

A dark head of hair disappeared into the narrow alley between motorhomes and you frowned as you waited for another to follow. When three long seconds had passed and no one went after him you darted out of the Red Bull motorhome and into the same alleyway.

Industrial sized power cords littered the floor and hazard signs lined the cladding of the two motorhomes that housed the Red Bull and the Ferrari central hubs. You knew he couldn’t have gotten far as you burst out the other end and into the busy paddock, your eyes scanning the crowds before spotting him weaving aimlessly through the people.

“Jules!” The boy stopped as you called out and he looked around to figure out who it came from. By then you had reached him and placed a hand on his shoulder as you knelt to his height. “Where are you heading, little man?”

“Looking for my father,” he said with tears in his green eyes. He was the spitting image of Charles with his hair and those eyes, it was just like looking at his childhood photos again.

“I can help you, Jules, if that’s alright? My name is Y/N.”

He politely shook your hand that you offered. “How do you know my name?”

“I’ve known your father for a very long time and you look just like him. Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

You fired a quick message to Max letting him know where you were disappearing to since he was expecting to find you in hospitality.

“Do you like racing?” you asked, making small talk along the way.

He nodded eagerly. “I’m going to race for Ferrari when I grow up.”

“I remember another boy who said the same thing, and he did it so I know you can too if you put your mind to it.”

You received a few odd looks when you entered the Ferrari garage but no one stopped you as you weaved through the workshop and tire shelves and eventually found a familiar face.

“Alessandro, have you seen Charles?”

Alessandro’s eyebrows rose at the guest tucked behind your legs before pointing to the room with Charles’ name on it. “Careful. He’s in a bad mood.”

“When isn’t he,” you muttered as you led the way and rapped your knuckles on the door.

“What?”

“Pére!” Jules shouted happily when he heard his father’s voice and the door was torn open.

Charles’ face flashed through a montage of emotions. Shock, confusion, excitement, anger. You watched it all as his eyes darted between you and his son before he recovered and picked Jules up.

“Where’s your mother?” Charles asked, his voice laced with barely restrained anger. “You’re meant to be with her.”

Jules shrugged. “Don’t know, but I want to stay with you. Can’t I stay with you, pére?”

Charles sighed and tucked Jules’ head into his neck so the boy didn’t see his jaw clench or hear his teeth gnash together.

“I found him wandering the paddock looking for you,” you explained as you backed away. “I didn’t see Sapphire anywhere.”

“I’m surprised you even noticed, you’re always so busy with Max.”

You rolled your eyes at the bitterness. Charles had never accepted his situation he got himself into or the fact that you moved on. There wasn’t a conversation where he didn’t criticise the relationship you had with Max which was why you tried to avoid it where possible.

“Maybe you should worry more about your own family and less about mine. There’s 20,000 people in the paddock today, Charles, you should be thanking the fucking stars it was me who found him.” An annoyed sound growled in the back of your throat as he didn’t even blink at your words and you knew sparing anymore would be a waste of breath. “It was nice to meet you, Jules. Goodbye, Charles.”

A hand caught yours as you turned away and you narrowed your eyes at the owner until he dropped it. “Why him?”

In all honesty, the question was three years overdue. Charles had had plenty of opportunities to ask that question in the years since the relationship had gone public and you returned to the paddock, only this time it was in support of Red Bull.

“Do you hate me that much?” he asked when you remained silent.

“I don’t hate you, Charles,” you said honestly. “To hate you would mean feeling something for you, which I don’t. My relationship with Max has absolutely nothing to do with you. Max and I understand each other and we respect each other, it’s a relationship built on trust and it’s healthy.”

“What a load of shit,” Charles snorted and put Jules down on the chair in his room before stepping closer. “You can lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me, bella. You always liked to play these games to make me jealous.”

You stepped out of the room as you saw the dark glint in his eyes, but still he followed you through the garage as his crew watched. There was an edge to him that grown sharper over the years as he spiralled into the hole he found himself in, but so long as his risks paid off on the track no one brought attention to the behaviour.

“This isn’t a game, Charles. Haven’t you learnt that yet?” You reached the fresh air and saw the welcoming red and black colours next door. “You could have lost Jules today. Go and take care of your son.”

An arm curled around your waist and you breathed a sigh of relief and Max kissed your temple. “I was just coming to find you.”

“Why? Worried she came crawling back to me?” Charles challenged with a smirk.

“No, I don’t have to worry about that,” Max laughed before he recovered and looked at you. “We have an announcement to make. Ready, my love?”

You laced your fingers together and nodded, a flutter of excitement rippling through you at the thought. “Ready.”

“What’s the announcement?”

“I’m not going to spoil the surprise,” Max said as he walked you into Red Bull where everyone was waiting. Spotlights were aimed at the two chairs behind a table draped in Red Bull livery and Max pulled your seat out for you, pushing it back in as you sat down. The heat of the spotlights were uncomfortable but you forgot about it when Max kissed you knuckles and gave you a reassuring smile. “No backing out now.”

You chuckled and squeezed his hand that rested on your thigh. “It’s a little late for that.”

The media producer held his hand up and counted down the seconds to the cameras going live. For two people who lived relatively private lives, you were about to make a lot of noise but in a few short months it would be impossible to keep secret anyway.

“The people here at Red Bull have been my family for the past decade and I would not have had the success of winning five championships without their support. I want to thank each and every one of you guys for all the hard work you have done over the years.” Max’s voice started to crack and pulled his hand up higher so it rested against the very slight swell of your stomach.

“This will be my last session in Formula 1,” he said to the camera with a smile. “I will be retiring from racing to start a much more exciting adventure with my wife, as we are having a family of our own.”

A loud cheer erupted through the packed motorhome and Max looked happier than when he was on the top podium as he kissed you in the chaos. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips. “You and our child will never want for anything, I will always be there for you, both of you.”

“I know. I trust you,” you replied as you rested your forehead against his. Max had shown you how love was supposed to be, he had shown you how to trust again. He had kept every promise he ever made, he treated you like a queen and worshipped you like a goddess. You couldn’t imagine a better man to spend the rest of your life with and raise a family with. “I love you, Max. You’re my everything.”

Click here for Charles’ reaction to the announcement.

Click here for Charles’ ending.

#max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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sjmvillainweek · 7 months ago

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SJM Villain Week Rules/FAQ

Welcome to SJM Villain Week taking place on the 1st - 7th of October to kick off the scariest month of the year.

In order to inspire creativity within the fandom, we are running a prompt submission form to collect your ideas for what the prompts should be for the event! Each day will have two prompts, as well as a free day on the seventh.

The prompts list is now up! Here is the link to the list

Click the read more to see the rules and FAQ for this event week!

To help this event run smoothly, here are the rules to follow

This event is about the big bad guys of the SJM universe, but that does not mean that hate will be accepted. Remember to be kind and respectful to everyone joining in on this event. Any kind of hate mail sent will be deleted and the user will be blocked, no questions asked.

Projection of harmful stereotypes will not be allowed. Any kind of portrayal of the villains is welcome, as long as everything is kept respectful, and it is clear that certain kinds of behavior are not justified.

All relationships and interpretations of sexualities are welcome! So long as your villain of choice is at the forefront of your content. Shipbashing is not permitted. You are also of course welcome to create general and non-ship content.

No A.I content is permitted and therefore will not be reblogged.

NSFW and mature content is allowed, so long as everything is appropriately tagged. That means on Tumblr, their guidelines for NSFW images are followed, and on AO3, or other posting platforms, the work is sufficiently tagged and rated according to that sites rules.

As we are dealing with the villains of the story, it needs to be clear, graphic depictions of Rape/Non-Con will not be reblogged.

Whilst we all have different headcanons, and interpretations of characters, these are some characters that are not villains, and content centering around them will not be reblogged or otherwise featured during this event-

Tamlin

Eris Vanserra

Rhysand

The Inner Circle

Bone Carver, Weaver, Bryaxis

Cormac

FAQ

How do I participate in this event?

Any kinds of participation are welcome! Whether that be headcanons, fanart, fanfiction, moodboards, playlists, edits, or anything else you come up with! Remember, any A.I content will not be reblogged.

Is there an AO3 collection?

There is a collection on AO3 for the works posted, (here is the link) There are three ways you can add your works to the collection.

If you go to the collections page you can press "Post to Collection" and post your fic as normal.

When posting your fic, scroll to the option "Post to Collections/Challenges" you can manually type in the name of our collection (SJM Villain Week 2024) and add it.

If you fic is already posted, click edit and scroll to the option "Post to Collections/Challenges, and add it to our event as you would when posting.

Who is running this event?

This week-long event is being hosted by @hieragalbatorixdottir, @achaotichuman and @readychilledwine

What if I have a question about the event?

If you have any questions, please feel free to send an ask to the event account! We would love to hear all of your questions, headcanons, or any content you wish to share with us! If you want your ask to be answered privately please state that in the ask, otherwise all asks sent in will be published.

And please remember to not send any asks regarding the event account to our moderators. Please send them through the ask box of this account.

Do I have to stick to the prompts?

The prompts are there to help inspire creativity, that being said you do not have to stick to them. There will be two prompts for each day, you can use both, just one, or none at all! Whatever inspires you to create work! There will also be a free day where you can go utterly nuts and write whatever you want featuring our villains!

What can I do for SJM Villain Week if I am not a creator?

Any kind of interaction with the creators' making content is the best way to support them and encourage them leading up and during the event week! Consider liking, commenting and reblogging the content you see. This is the best way to let the creators know their content is appreciated.

Up to and during the event, we will be reblogging and sharing content made for our villains. If you have seen or have created works for our villains don't hesitate to share with us so we can reblog it!

Without further ado, welcome to SJM Villain Week, where lies, secrets and evil abounds. We’ll see you in October.

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elysianfieldsarchive · 2 months ago

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Elysian Fields Anniversary Event Details!!!

It's our birthday!

Elysian Fields Spuffy Fanwork Archive is turning eighteen, and so, the inspiration for the theme comes from Buffy’s own harrowing eighteenth birthday, when she is betrayed by Giles and the Council alike.

That said, your fic/art DOES NOT have to be based around that same episode. So long as it’s a Spuffy work with betrayal as a theme, you’re good. This does not mean it specifically has to be Buffy or Spike who is the subject or perpetrator of the betrayal! You could go for a spin on canon with Amy betraying Willow, Willow betraying Tara, or something completely AU like Xander being betrayed by the cheese guy from Restless. Your use of the theme can be as small or as large as you want. So long as it's obvious enough for the readers to go "Oh, I see what you did there!" then your fic qualifies for this challenge. Whichever path you choose to take, we'd love to see what you come up with.

How and when do I post my story?

Starting as soon as the clock ticks over into October 1st (site time, which is Eastern US time—it's listed under the ShoutBox), you'll see a checkbox on the page where you add a new story. It’ll look like so:

Reminder: Your work DOES NOT need to be complete prior to posting. In fact, it doesn't even need to be completed during the event month. So, any creators stressing about the timeline, you can relax because you have the whole month to BEGIN posting your work.

Also: the betrayal does not have to happen in the first chapter, or any chapters that are posted during October. The only requirement is that betrayal is featured in your work at some point.

How do I find Challenge Stories?

Want to keep up with the fun? All betrayal works will have a little knife icon in the byline, as seen in the example below:

And you can find all of the betrayal works as they are added by visiting the Event Page.

What should my work include?

So long as your work features Spuffy, a betrayal, and doesn’t break any of EF’s rules or Terms of Service, you’re golden. You could make art, write a comic, edit a fan-vid, or write an epic novel. The world is your oyster poodle!

Written works must be at least 100 words long, but there is no word count limit for artwork-only pieces or narrative artwork (i.e. works that consist of both words and pictures, such as a comic).

Please remember that EF has a strict no-AI policy.

What happens if I don’t post my work within the time window?

If you don’t post the first installment of your work during October (per site time), it can’t and won’t be considered part of the October event, sorry.

Do I need to post the entire work before the end of October?

Again, no. You just need to have posted at least one chapter before site time ticks over to November (per site time).

What about beta readers and sensitivity readers?

We love beta and sensitivity readers and have a shiny Beta award they can win! Use EF’s credit system to mark their contribution or else they won’t get the award—and they deserve all the accolades for their hard work!

Can I work with someone else on my event response?

Sure! The more the merrier! Whether it’s writers working as coauthors, artists creating a collaborative work together, or an artist and a writer teaming up as a duo (or a moresome!) as deadly as Spuffy, we welcome collaborations for this event.

How do I get the art award?

You can get the art award by creating a banner (for yourself or someone else) or by posting a work that fits within our Artwork or Narrative Artwork categories. We’ve seen images, manips, gifs, videos, fan vids, comics, playlists, and more get posted, and can’t wait to see what y’all will come up with next!

If someone has created art for your work, make sure you credit them using EF’s credit system—otherwise we won’t know to give them an award! And DON’T FORGET to credit yourself as artist if you created your own banner or other artwork.

Are there rules for banner creation?

Banners should be no more than 920x300 pixels and include a variation of the text ‘Designed/Created/Written for the Elysian Fields Betrayal Event’ somewhere on them. Example:

Now that I have a gorgeous banner/other artwork, how do I add it to my work?

To add the banner to your story, you can upload the banner to your account in “Your Images” under “Account Info.” Banner images must be a gif, jpg, jpeg, or png file type, and under 1 MB in file size. Banners should be no more than 920x300 pixels. Images posted within chapters can be up to 1500x1500 px. (Note: make sure you add images to the chapter itself; any images in the Chapter Notes or End Notes won’t be added to ePubs when people download them!) You can also host your banner on an image-sharing site or your own site, especially if the file size is too big for us to host on our site.

You then enter the URL from Elysian Fields or the image sharing site in the Banner URL field on the Add Story page, or click the Insert/Edit Image icon in the toolbar for the Story Text box.

NOTE: The URL you add MUST be end in the image file extension (.gif, .jpg, .jpeg, or .png) or else the URL will not be saved. Make sure there are no spaces after the final character in the file extension. If you are having issues with a specific image sharing site, please reach out to us via email or try asking for help in our Discord server.

You said we could add videos? How do I do that?

You will need to get the embed link from YouTube, Vimeo, or another site (which can be a little tricky on mobile, but not impossible—google for directions if you can’t do this on desktop) and insert the html into the Source Code. You can access this by clicking the Source Code button in the toolbar. Reach out via email or Discord if you’re having any issues with embedding videos.

Is there an event skin?

Yes. The October event skin is now live if you want to make it your default. Scroll down to the skins on the main page or in the footer and select the one labeled “betrayal” to switch. If you want to keep it, make sure you change the selection on your preferences page. (Otherwise it will change back to your saved skin the next time you access the site.)

And if you haven't seen it yet, the skin looks like this:

The banner was made by our very own @isevery0nehereverystoned.

Will you be featuring regular works while the event is going on?

Instead of our normal mod-selected featured works, we will be highlighting fanworks posted in past years in honor of our October anniversary. Starting on the first of the month, each day will highlight a random assortment of works posted during the matching year of the archive (for example, on October 1st, we will feature works from 2006, our first year; on October 2nd, we will feature works from 2007, our second year; and so on). On day eighteen, we will change to feature fics that are part of this event.

The October Event challenges authors and artists. What about the readers? Won’t you think of the readers?

Obviously, readers deserve all the love. If you write at least 18 comments in October that contain at least 18 words (for any works here on EF, not just the challenge ones), you'll meet the requirements of the commenter challenge and earn a Commenter award! There will be a link to the comment challenge leaderboard on the homepage under the Members of the Month along with the All Star Commenter list.

Show me the awards!

This event’s shinies have also been lovingly made by HappyWhenItRains. Lookit!

I’m So Excited!

We are too!

Do we really have to include poodles in our works?

No. Probably.

Anything else?

If there are any additional questions, please comment on this post or email us at [email protected]. And get ready for some amazing new stories!

#elysian fields archive #elysian fields anniversary event #elysian fields challenge #spuffy endgame #spuffy is endgame #spuffy #spuffy is better #spuffy tropes #buffy #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #btvs #buffyverse #spuffy fanfic #spuffy fanart #spike and buffy #spike x buffy

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ricstarweek2024 · 7 months ago

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Can you believe Rictor and Shatterstar’s relationship was made canon 15 years ago? Well, it’s true! So, what better way to commemorate this iconic moment than with all of us sharing our love for them with a whole week dedicated to them?

The RicStar Anniversary Week 2024 will be held June 21-27, 2024.

The purpose of this event is to celebrate 15 years since the first kiss between Rictor and Shatterstar which happened on the pages of X-Factor #45 on June 24, 2009, which not only was the first gay kiss between two superheroes in Marvel, but it also confirmed years of romantic subtext between the characters. It’s been 15 years of canon RicStar, a couple that paved the way for more couples and pre-established characters to come out in later years.

Prompts:

Subjects

DAY 1: Early years/ X-Force era

DAY 2: Missing moments

DAY 3: Mexico road-trip/ Mojoworld

DAY 4: Free day (It’s the Anniversary day!)

DAY 5: Alternate Universe

DAY 6: Krakoa Era

DAY 7: Family/ Friends

Themes:

DAY 1: Neurodivergence

DAY 2: Sacrifice / Parallels

DAY 3: Powers

DAY 4: Soulmates

DAY 5: Music/ Movies

DAY 6: Hurt/ Comfort

DAY 7: Childhood

Rules:

There are two prompts per day – a subject and a theme, feel free to use only one or a combination of the prompts.

All kinds of fanwork are welcome, from fanfics, fanarts, fanedits, playlists, photography cosplay, and even baking! (I’ve made Ricstar cookies in the past), handcrafts or even if you just want to share your thoughts, headcanons, etc. that’s perfect too. Let’s all just share our love for this couple in whichever way we want and can.

Remember to use the #ricstarweek2024 hashtag so we can find your work. For Tumblr, you can also tag us @ricstarweek2024.

Please don't feel pressured to post something for every prompt or every day. The dates and prompts work just as a guide so if you can’t post the assigned day that’s fine, post it when you can.

Remember to tag any triggers. Additionally, for NSFW material on Tumblr, make sure to put it under the “read more” break and use the function of sensitive content warning for Twitter.

Let’s have an amazing week together!!

#ricstarweek2024 #rictor #julio richter #shatterstar #ricstar #xmen #x force #x factor #xfi #marvel

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i-can-read-to-him · 1 month ago

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The Wesper Fic Club's Author Spotlight is a post series that aims to feature two to three fic authors a month, randomly selected from a pool of names put forth on our server. The authors are then asked to answer three interview questions, select up to five of their fics for us to feature, and finally, recommend three fics by others in the fandom.

(Note: Our spotlighted fics are not limited to Wesper, though they tend to be a central pairing in most of our authors' featured works.)

This week, we are putting a spotlight on Reo's writing!

Socials: @reonnex (Tumblr) | Reonnex (AO3)

❀

Part One: Author Interview

Q: When did you first start writing? What keeps you going today?

A: I've honestly been writing for as long as I can remember. I've always loved creating stories or thinking of ideas I would change in the books I've read. As a kid, my dad and I would read all types of books together at night before bed, which had always sparked my interest. And whenever I was given my first phone and introduced to online media and more fandom spaces, I realized I could write what I wanted. In middle school being a theater kid, most of that consisted of writing musical fanfics. The drive to keep creating is what keeps me going. I am in the process of trying to write my own original book, And while I have barely started it or even figured out a plot I want to be able to be the person who can make others feel seen in my words.

Q: What are some recurring themes you’ve noticed in your writing?

A: I tend to get really into the character's heads. I will write their internal monologue sometimes more than the actual scene itself. I notice that sometimes I may write a good 100-200 words purely on how that character is feeling. Sometimes it can be good, but also it is a habit I am trying to break to keep the pace going and not make the fic seem “stuck.”

Q: What kind of music do you like to listen to while writing

A: Honestly all different types. I have character playlists that I listen to while writing for a specific character if I really want to channel them internally, but the songs can range from Jhariah, Noah Kahan, Alex G and many more. I have to get myself into their mindsets for me to write them or I am stuck on a blank page for hours.

❀

Part Two: Selected Works

I'm biting my own tongue, I am my fathers lost son

Mature | 70K+ (WIP) | Wylan-centric, Wesper Whump, Torture, Torture aftermath, Recovery, PTSD

Reonnex says: This is my pride and joy. A what-if scenario that Wylan was the one captured instead of Inej at the end of Six Of Crows. It is still ongoing but I am almost finished with it. As of now I should be wrapping it up in two more chapters plus an epilogue!

Who’s a heretic child?

Teen | 19K (Completed) | Matthias and Wylan's friendship Alternative first meeting, Implied child abuse

Reonnex says: This was my first Six Of Crows fic, and what a bold take I went for. It was way out of my comfort zone, but I loved it. This is an alternative first meeting/universe where Wylan was still with his father as Matthias was broken out of Hellgate and has him go undercover as a guard for Wylan after rumors spread about the boy.

Lay your secrets on my lips dear

Teen | 6K (Complete) | Wesper Medical abuse, Drunken confession, Hangovers

Reonnex says: Wylan and Jesper both get drunk together, and as the night progresses, Wylan begins to share more of his past. I love this fic so much as I really wanted to dive more into Wylan’s trauma around those trying to cure him. I focused on the types of tonics based around the 1800s.

A family of trees wanted, to be haunted

Teen | 5K (Complete ) | Inej-centric, Wylan and Inej friendship Referenced Child Abuse, Referenced Rape/Non-con, Panic attacks

Reonnex says: This fic discusses both Inej and Wylan and their traumas. I had a lot of fun writing in Inej’s POV. This fic takes place the night before the Pekka showdown, and I wrote it due to wanting to know why Wylan wasn’t there.

Paint me like one of your Saints

Teen | 3K (Complete) | Wesper, Jesper-centric ADHD, Paintings, Domestic, Fluff and Humor, Sexual Humor

Reonnex says: Jesper agrees to become a muse for Wylan to paint. I wrote this fic for Jesptember, and I have already fallen in love with it as one of my favorites. As someone with ADHD as well, I feel really connected to Jesper and wanted to show that internal battle of wanting to please others, but also struggling do go through with it.

❀

Part Three: Author's Recs

flowers on burning ships (i know i’m the one you want to forget) by sunshineriptiee

Gen | 30K (Complete) | Wesper Breakups, Second chances, Exes to lovers, Post-Crooked Kingdom

Reonnex says: This includes a Wesper breakup, but also such a sweet ending. I really loved how this fits into Six of Crows so well. Wesper is growing older, and so are Wylan and Jesper. It was a refreshing touch to see how things may not all be perfect, and that there has to be time to figure yourself out.

this town is fake (but you're the real thing) by hopeisbloody

Teen | 50K+ (WIP) | Wesper Fake dating, Actor!Jesper, Influencer!Wylan, Modern era

Reonnex says: I have become so obsessed with this fic so much. It’s a modern AU of Jesper becoming an actor, and Wylan a famous celebrity. The two agree to fake date, but then that becomes into something more.

Shoot from the Hip by @nerdlingmerchling (AKA dandelionpower)

Explicit | 83K+ (WIP) | Wesper Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Reonnex says: An amazing fic by the talented @nerdlingmerchling. This is the second work in the series Slow Burning Gunpowder. It is a lens through Wesper for the show, including scenes from it, as well as creating new scenes that fit so well into cannon.

❀

Please support our authors by commenting and leaving kudos on any stories of theirs you read and enjoy! Don't forget to also reblog this post and check back soon for our next author spotlight to come.

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preciouslandmermaid · 6 months ago

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quiet fury in your head [ix]

Dream of the Endless x AFAB!Reader!Goddess / Sandman Fanfiction

Note: I was working on the playlist I have for this story and it inspired me to get this chapter out. Truthfully, I had about 80% of the chapter already written AGES ago, and so all I had to do was add the beginning scene/tweak a few things lol

No use of Y/N. See part 1 for all the tags tbh.

Warnings: self-harm in a ritualistic way + blood/injury + angst

Rating: 18+

(Read on AO3) || (masterpost for other chapters)

The wind gently tugs at your cloak as you stand on the pier. It is wholly unnecessary to be here on the pier, but this is how Dream leaves for his Odyssey, and you’ve always enjoyed the cyclical rhythm of repetition. You were once a trio. There’s power in rituals and repetition. You won’t leave the Dreaming through the waters, but you’ll leave while standing on this pier, the same way Dream does.

“No fanfare or farewell,” Lucienne’s voice floats to your ears. “I��m glad I caught you before you left.”

“Are you?” You glance over your shoulder and your eyebrows tick upward. Lucienne is not alone. Of the Dreaming inhabitants, you bonded with Lucienne and Dima, but there had been other passing connections throughout the centuries. You had not felt them significant at the time, but the presence of Abel, Cain, and the Corinthian proves differently. I have touched their lives even if they have not touched mine. You turn and face the small gathering. The brothers, Abel and Cain, were less of a surprise than the Corinthian who stood with his hands in his pockets and the light reflecting off his sunglasses.

“I wished to give you this,” Lucienne says while passing a leather-bound book to your hands. Instinctively, you open to see the language written within, but blank pages flutter before you like a flurry of white moths, a storm of white sheets.

A fist squeezes inside your throat. “Your kindness is witnessed, Lucienne,” you respond stiffly. This is not an offering like the times of old. This is a gift. Lucienne, loyal to Dream and his Realm, took the time to give you something to remember her by.

“I admit I will miss your presence in the library,” she says, “and our lessons.”

“I will return to the Dreaming someday,” you inform her and her gentle, melancholy smile brightens and reaches her dark, intelligent eyes. Lucienne steps back, nods her head and, the brothers rush into the space she once occupied.

“Lady,” Abel bows, “my brother and I will miss your visits.”

Cain says, “We will miss your stories, especially.”

Throughout the centuries, there had been a handful of times when boredom and loneliness brought you to the brother’s home. You enjoyed watching their endless story – the death and rebirth – the tragedy and anger. It reminded you of your sisters. They’ve always allowed you to stay the for the evening if you agreed to share a story of your people—be it the other Gods or creatures of folktale.

“And your company,” Abel says with a sharp glance at Cain.

“I already said that,” Cain replies hotly. This is their destiny, the wind tugs at the hem of your dark cloak, and I cannot stay to watch it play out once more. You have your future to write. Sisters to bury. A friend to find. A new Godhood to shape.

“Be well,” you cut in before they can continue to argue, “and I will return with new stories.”

It may be a millennium before you return, but time has no bearing on a dream. The brothers bicker quietly as they shuffle back toward the shore. You draw your breath into your lungs and briefly hold it. The Corinthian’s golden head cocks to the side and is studying you when he approaches. You taste the memory of saltwater and bright storms. You will not be bowed by a Nightmare. You exhale and push your shoulders back.

“Have you come to claim your favor?” you ask softly. You feel Lucienne’s eyes on you and imagine how the sight may appear—Corinthian and yourself standing close and speaking in low, intimate tones, as the waters of Odyssey gently lap and wave beneath the dark pier.

His lips quirk. “No. Although, I’m happy to hear you haven’t forgotten it.”

“Of course not. I do not offer promises and favors lightly,” the haughtiness in your tone reminds you of your Old Self – the Goddess of Rage, the Lady Nemain of the Three Sisters. If he has nothing to offer and no farewells to give then I will be on my way. I cannot – I do not wish to delay any longer. I have waited long enough.

You say, “Farewell, Corinthian,” and a shroud of raven feathers encircles you as you vanish from the Dreaming.

************

You stand alone in a scorched grove of ash and blackened soil. The mountains in the distance are haloed by rings of gray smoke and rivers of luminous, orange lava spilled into the valley, inflaming dry brush and shrubs, and boiling once beautiful lakes into sulfur. The sky overhead flashes with lightning, and the air tastes of eroded stone and thunder, of smoldering wood and lonely, empty grief. Your fists clench at your sides.

The Otherworld was a place of verdant, wild fertility, and blue skies. Surely, it could not all be lost, could it? Something must have grown from the ashes. Your hope burns inside your chest.

“I am proud of you, pet,” Desire says, wearing Dream’s face. Their arrival is merely mildly surprising, though not wholly unexpected. You keep shifting through the black soil, pushing dirt with a stick and kicking aside rocks.

“I haven’t buried their tokens yet,” you reply.

“You will and perhaps...in doing so…” Desire trails off, smirking coyly.

You stop and cross your arms. It’s strange to see Dream wearing an expression like this one. It looks wrong and unnatural, yet your stomach clenches as if it is him. A low stirring of desire coils and you tamper it away. This is not your Dream. It is not Morpheus.

“What?” You prod against Desire’s continued silence.

“There’s still magic here,” they say with a wink before vanishing.

“Your secrets no longer tempt me,” you mutter, though Desire has long since vanished. There is nothing Desire can offer you. They cannot revive your sisters and would offer you only impostors. They would look, and perhaps act as Badb and Macha, but it would not be them. You are here to see the destruction for yourself and bury your sisters. Nothing more and nothing less.

All of the beautiful oak Dagda’s trees have been chopped and reduced to low stumps. Some were torn asunder from the earth and cast aside, their roots gnarled and twisted, or blackened into white-gray charcoal. Dagda. your Chieftain God had a white beard that twisted like tree roots and wise, ebony eyes—a face that you will always remember, but are destined to never see again. You swallow past the lump inside your throat.

It takes minutes or hours before you find the Heart Tree—Dagda’s magnificent oak. The symbol of his power and his standing with the Gods.

Or, rather, you find what remains of it.

The massive stump could fit an entire village within its rings. You drag your fingers across the rough, dark bark of its sprawling roots and then dig your fingertips into the divots and cracks with a strenuous exhale. The hem of your bloody dress catches on the jagged surface and you tugged it free, tearing it.

You ignore the rip and continue to climb.

You claw your way to the edge and pull yourself onto the flat, spiral-marked surface of Dagda’s Heart Tree. You do not stop crawling until you reach its center and collapse, face first, into the soft and sweet-smelling oak. Your fingertips are scarlet, blood seeping into your nail beds, and your hands are chaffed raw.

A raven lands near your forearm, “Lady Morrigan?”

“I am alright.” You lie, knowing her connection to Morpheus, and hating that he might see your sorrow and shame. The destruction is real. The death is real. There is nothing left of the Otherworld.

If only you had defeated Lugh, you might have saved your sisters and saved your home. Your nose squishes against the wood, and you breathe deep and seek an impression of Dagda’s magic within the layered bark.

Please, you beg the impassive wood, please, I do not wish to be alone forever.

The raven nudges her beak into your elbow. You sense that she is attempting to comfort you and wish you had any energy to smile or offer gratitude.

************

Dream sits on his throne, and holds your feather between his forefinger and thumb, and watches the play of light on the glossy, obsidian surface.

You have not moved from your fetal position on the large, forgotten tree stump. He watches through his raven – Myrtle—and his chest aches at the marks of grief shadowed beneath your eyes. He wishes to spare you from suffering.

Again and again, he considers summoning you to the Dreaming, using this feather like a sigil, and returning you to your rightful place beside him. But he resists the temptation. He has released you and you promised you would return.

He contemplates whether or not he made the correct choice. However, as long as Myrtle remains, he could take an odyssey into the Otherworld if you need him. He twirls the feather between his fingers and sighs. A sense of melancholy and regret found a home inside his chest. I should have followed. But I cannot abandon my responsibilities within the Dreaming for the sake of a whim.

************

Your weary bones ache as you walk. The feasting hall stands against the ashen backdrop like a skeletal, black behemoth. You pluck a piece of charcoal from the shifting ash and gravel and draw your old tattoos onto your skin. They had faded over time as your followers diminished and the rest of your pantheon died.

It’s time to mourn your sisters. It’s time to lay their tokens beneath the Heart Tree as Desire instructed.

You are the last remaining Goddess of a forgotten and abandoned worship. You are the last of your kind. And you owe it – to yourself, to the mortal you once were, to your sisters – to continue to live and find a way to rebuild what you lost.

You find the homestead that you shared and it is remarkably unburnt. A collection of small animal skulls hangs on red threads from the ceiling in Badb’s room and its rich, perfumed scent of dried flowers lingers in the smoky air.

You gasp and stubbornly wipe away the tears clinging to your eyes.

Macha’s room glows with warmth, swaths of carnelian and crimson fabrics are draped over the wooden beams, and elaborate woven rugs cover the floor. You snip a crow’s skull from its thread and collect Macha’s hairbrush made of horsehair. These tokens, you think, will suffice.

Lastly, you approach your room and behold the sight of a lifetime eons ago. The walls are covered with your favorite offerings—bronze spears that glimmer when the sun cuts through the open window. You break the tip of a spear and stand at the center of your sparse room with a rueful smile. Dream’s raven lands on the windowsill and caws.

You bow your head in silent appreciation. You had sensed her vigil. You know her presence meant Morpheus is watching over you as well, but that particular knowledge is harder to stomach.

You do not want him to be privy to this ritual. Your grief is choking your lungs.

It is not a long walk to return to the Heart Tree, though it feels as if it takes centuries. Your mind fills with a certain blackly-clad dressed individual in a starry cloak and unfathomable eyes. Oh, Morpheus. Your time in the Dreaming has softened you to him. You recall how he stood on the beach framed by cobalt waves with his hands clasped behind his back. You had watched his subjects and their subdued and hidden adoration of their Maker, and how even the blades of grass turned toward him.

He is an isolated, dark star in a kaleidoscope of wonder and radiance.

You wonder if it meant something that he offered you mercy, that he warranted you an exploration of the Otherworld because he felt some type of kinship to you. Could he see me as an equal now? You shake your head. These musings are useless. They serve little purpose but to make your chest ache with ruinous desire. You set aside all thoughts of Morpheus and his inscrutable sentiments.

The bronze spear tip is warm in your palm. You were once the Queen of Raven’s, weren’t you? You nudge against the raven’s mind, feeling Morpheus there, and learn the raven’s name is Myrtle.

You meet her dark eyes and see Morpheus in them, “I’m sorry,” You say earnestly, abandoning your sense of pride for this one, single precious moment. With a firm mental hand, you push his essence from Myrtle, and she flies– startled – into the air.

The soil is waiting.

You press the gilded point to your vulnerable inner wrist. A God should not be able to bleed. However, your weakened powers are heightened within the Otherworld, even if it is a shadow of itself. You bleed if you will it. A pinprick of deep crimson wells at the slight pressure of your hand.

“Farewell, sisters.”

You drag the point upward toward your inner elbow and rivulets of blood pour onto Badb’s and Macha’s tokens. You speak the poems of remembrance and farewell in a pleading and undulating tone that is reminiscent of your followers chanting beneath full moons. Your skin burns. The ash and dirt stir at your feet.

Your bloody fingers are freckled with dirt as you dig and bury Badb’s skull and Macha’s hairbrush beneath the Heart Tree’s roots. There. I have finished my task for Desire. I am free. I am free to live at last.

Your eyes snap backward into your skull. You see stars. You see your sisters. A rush of cold air whips around your face. You see Lugh’s laughing face. You see the glorious battlefields. The ground trembles. You see, through Myrtle’s eyes, that one of the volcanoes has erupted.

The Otherworld thickens with soot, memory, and supplication.

Morpheus’ face appears before you.

“You said you wished to see the Otherworld. Not that you wished to revive your sisters.” He clutches your bleeding wrist with wild, bright, and burning eyes. His voice is as impassive as stone.

Is that what I was doing? You wonder, though your dry lips cannot form the words. An icy panic latches itself onto your heart. The Otherworld is crumbling – it is dying. You feel it. A part of you, the part of you that is Badb, abruptly understands that the Otherworld has been waiting for your return. This is your fate and your doom.

Desire wanted me to come here...they said magic remained...did they know? Morpheus squeezes your bloody wrist. But your broken skin stubbornly refuses to heal. Did they believe I could revive my sisters in the end?

The Otherworld opens its arms to you. You are its doom and its epilogue. It wanted all its children home before it imploded like a dying star. You are a stream returning to the ocean. You are a plant wilting and rotting to compost. The Otherworld cracks.

“This is how it ends. You – Morpheus – were destined to be my undoing – my ruin.” Your voice sounds like Badb’s, raspy and weary and older than the stars themselves.

“You’re lying,” he seethes and his rage is cold. You taste his fear in the wind. I do not wish to leave you either, Morpheus. His eyes harden like black ice. If he does not believe you, well, it does not matter because the End is coming for you. Everything ends. Even Gods.

Something hot trickles down your cheeks.

“My fate is yours, Dream,” you shout over the cacophony of the tempest and volcanic earthquakes, “it has always been yours.”

Finally, you understand the prophecy. Nemain of the Three Sisters, The Banshee Queen, is meant to die in the arms of Dream the Endless. This is how your story goes:

He will always save you from Lugh’s poison. You will always venture into the Dreaming and marvel at its splendor.

Desire will always find you. Dream will always release you from the Dreaming’s prison...and protection.

You will always return to the Otherworld and bury your sister’s tokens.

And he will always lose you.

You will always be dead, worse off than a shade, with your name forgotten and history buried. You have already done this and will do it all again. This is what it means to be a God. A story. A written ending cannot be changed.

Perhaps the act of burying your sister’s tokens will be enough to return your sisters to the collective consciousness. Desire said there is magic here. You don’t need the whole tree. A small acorn of magic will be enough.

Let the stories sing of the magnificent Morrigan. Let her be courageous and devious, wicked, and wise. Let her contain all the fractured angles of a glistening gemstone. And let your name, Nemain, fall into dusted obscurity among the annuals of history. It will be enough. If you can change the narrative, in this small, wonderful way, then all of it—your loneliness, guilt, despair, grief, and longing—it’ll be worth it. You mentally sing your wish to the winds.

“No.” His anger thaws. “No.” He must’ve seen the resignation and sincerity in your face. “You promised you would return.”

You hold Dream’s face between your hands. You realize the wetness gliding over your face isn’t sweat or blood, but tears and you blink them away. Gods do not cry. And, more selfishly, you don’t want your final moments to be blurred.

“It would seem I am unable to honor my promise. I hope you will not hate me for it, though I will not fault you if you do.”

“I do not,” he says fiercely, his pale hands are marred with your blood, and they grip your face in desperation as the Otherworld collapses.

A faint, white light shines and sparkles through the fissures. A flicker of frustration etches across Dream’s usually calm, proud face.

“Come to the Dreaming.”

Even at the end of all things, you will not obey his orders. He would do well to understand that.

“I do not belong there,” you say with some difficulty, “you said so upon our first meeting and it was the truth. I am neither dream, nor nightmare, nor memory.”

“And what of my memories?” He pins you beneath his weighted gaze. “I do not forget so easily.”

You surge forward and kiss him with a tumultuous, wounded heart. Dream is motionless. You groan against his stubborn mouth, wishing for reciprocation, and hating the way your heart shatters at his stoicism. It is an odd feeling to let the tears fall.

You are not a creature of tears and sorrow. You are a herald of death and blood lust. Or you were. You were.

Dream slants his mouth over yours, adjusting, and you shudder, mollified.

You will fracture into oblivion and obscurity, yes, but at least you have this moment. In an era of solitude and bereavement, you will not face death alone. The dirt shimmers with light. You pull away from him with the solemn decision to face your death with your eyes open.

Morpheus’ intense expression steals the breath from your lungs. You burn alive like a sacrificial lamb in the light of his eyes.

“The Morrigan,” he whispers your name in reverence, “Queen of Nightmares.”

************ After the Otherworld shattered in brilliant light, his sister did not come and claim the Morrigan’s soul. This fact offers a paltry balm to his wounded heart. You might still yet live. Somewhere. Though Dream doesn’t know how to find you.

You do not dream, so he cannot find you within the Dreaming. And although your raven father no longer vibrates with echoes of your magic, he carries it with him, trapped in a desperate and melancholy hope within his breast pocket.

He cannot undo destiny. If it was your fate to become ‘undone’ – as you put it – then that was your fate. There is no bargain to be made, no trick to reveal, and no nightmare to banish. He considers calling upon his brother, Destiny, but what purpose would that serve? He knows how the story ends. He was there.

He focuses on his duties, his realm, and his creations.

It rains often.

He creates a Nightmare with black, feathered wings and sharp fangs, but struggles to complete the Nightmare’s eyes. He can only think of your eyes—deep, electrifying, the amount of swirling stars within them varying based on your mood—and he cannot get it right.

The Nightmare remains unfinished.

He doesn’t lament over the unfairness of losing you. He is Endless. This is the way things are, the way they were always meant to be, and it would be unproductive to whinge over it.

He has found himself at the stormy cliffside more often than expected. He stands with his hands clasped behind his back and focuses on remembrance—he’ll recall the sublime shape of your spine, the arch of your neck exposed to him with an up-do hairstyle, the play of your emotions across your face, fierce and breathtaking, even when sharpened with malice. He recalls the way your eyes looked on that final, fateful day. The galaxies within your irises had imploded, creating a field of black holes, and streaks of warping and bulbous light consumed the darkness before cannibalizing itself.

Another day, he returns to the mountainside where he secretly witnessed your first and only smile. He lifts his palm and lets the snowflakes settle on his skin with iced, tiny kisses.

He recalls your tearful expression, accepting his scorn, his denial, in light of everything you’d done. Your instinctive selfishness and desire for survival, luminous anger, and gilded conceit.

He doesn’t offer forgiveness or mercy for his creations. His realm requires ancient laws and stalwart order. That is how it functions. But he offered those gifts to you because you were not of his realm.

You were an outsider, who effortlessly wove yourself into the tapestry of the Dreaming – into him. He felt your touch, rich like blood, delicate as spring’s bloom, in the whispered nightmares you left behind.

Your final gift to him had been a kiss that seared his soul and bound him forever.

To him, none can compare, and he aches like a man starved for food at a banquet.

He has sensed Lucienne’s worry for him. However, she’s loyal and smart enough to not broach the topic.

He knows when others are speaking of you because they hush when he enters a room. Save for Corinthian. In the days after your annihilation, your death, Corinthian approached him and petitioned himself to search the living, waking world to try and find you.

He saw it for what it was. A poor, thinly veiled attempt to escape the Dreaming. He denied him.

Under the full, blue-gray moonlight, Dream stands in a field of pink camellias, pale red carnations, and purple heliotropes dappled with fresh rainwater. He pulls your feather from his coat and slides it across his lips – a poor substitution to your touch – but it’s all he has.

****

A/N: Flower meanings: pink camellias symbolize longing, pale red carnations symbolize an aching heart, while heliotropes symbolize eternal love/devotion.

#dream the endless x reader #dream x reader #the sandman fanfiction #sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #dream x you #dream x y/n #morpheus x y/n #dream the endless x morrigan #fem reader #slowburn !!!!!#fic: quiet fury

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viperwhispered · 16 days ago

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It is here! The playlist for Emi's first year at NRC, and her relationship with Jamil.

Don’t get spooked by the Finnish in the first song, the rest are in English.

Basically, this mostly follows the timeline of Emi’s first year in NRC (for more details, you can check her intro post and the timeline of her relationship with Jamil). All from her pov, pretty much.

You can probably tell when the Jamil feelings start to take hold, lol.

Funnily enough, My Land was the first specific song that came to my mind when I started this up (hi Azul apparently the mood for your schemes is very specific). For the rest, I combed through my spotify library (and oop did it take longer than I anticipated).

There’ll also be a few bonus songs in a reblog, including some for Jamil's point of view (because tumblr likes to be silly about showing posts with links and I don't wanna try my luck more than I already am).

Also if someone would prefer a youtube version to more easily access the songs, do let me know!

Anyways, there'll be some rambles and explanations under the cut, both for my thought process and for what each song was chosen to represent.

Taikatalvi

I wanted to start off with something in Finnish, to express where Emi’s coming from before waking up in the coffin at NRC. Palasia by Harmaja was also a very strong contender, but I figured this had more of a magical and fairytale vibe which suited this occasion. Plus, like, Nightwish as a band has been with me about forever, so it was quite fitting from that perspective, too.

The Worlds Forgotten, The Words Forbidden

It seems to me this one might be reasonably self-explanatory. Emi doesn’t know where she is, she doesn’t remember where she’s coming from, and she’s not exactly having a great time trying to figure out what is happening. The joys of surprise isekai 🙃

Whatever Makes You Feel Superior

Our first overblot song. Emi’s rule following has its limits, too, and her first impressions of Riddle sure ain’t the most favorable.

Wrap Your Troubles In Dreams

Basically, about Emi generally trying to cope with her situation and keep her hopes up. I also thought of using Turn the Page by Blind Guardian or Wishmaster by Nightwish to specifically refer to her escapism via books, but unfortunately those had to go when I was cutting down the playlist.

Mindfall Remedy

For Leona’s overblot - yep, Emi doesn’t have a huge amount of sympathy for Leona either, at least in the moment when she’s just scared. It Won’t Fade by Sonata Arctica was also a strong contender, especially with all the pack and animal imagery, but it didn’t quite fit - plus we already had another song from that album, and I figured I’d go for more variety instead.

Day Three: Pain

Emi struggling to come to terms with the fact that welp, she could’ve died, and this place is dangerous, and scary, and strange, and everything. Basically, things are not great.

My Land

I felt the mood suited book 3 and Emi’s feelings there quite well. Azul basically got Emi on a warpath - Azul’s taken something of hers, her home as much as she has one, and she wants it back.

Plus, this has been a very motivational / inspiring / uplifting song for me for ages, getting me pumped up for dealing with difficult things, so I figured it’d be very fitting here, with Emi squaring up to deal with Azul’s schemes.

The Rest Of The Sun Belongs To Me

Basically Emi’s mood after book 3 / as winter break approaches. She’s still struggling, but she is hanging on, and seeing more of a light at the end of the tunnel as she’s adjusting more.

Asking For It

For Jamil’s overblot. This was a tricky one to pick a song for, because it’s like Emi’s angry and hurt, but not completely without sympathy. My other options were Chameleon Halo by Entwine or Sin With a Grin by Shinedown. Honestly, all of them could’ve worked, but again trying to pick just one. Girl’s fear and all sure is turning into anger here, tho - and she sure doesn’t appreciate the feeling of being fooled and used.

Life

For ADeuce and friendship in general. It’s not all bad here, is it, and Emi’s gonna be very touched when she realizes the lengths they both are willing to go for her.

Clevermind

Some reflections post Jamil’s overblot. Honestly partially included this just since it talks about what could've been in December, it just felt too fitting. Like, Jamil could've had more sympathy and stuff from Emi, and Emi recognizes it, but boy did he squander it.

Arabesque

I’m sure y’all can figure out who this refers to. (I’m thinking the Scarabia duo in general, tbh, but yeah Jamil in particular when book 5 rolls around.)

Plastic World

For Vil’s overblot. I also considered Curtained Life by Entwine. Nothing much to say tbh, I feel it fits quite nicely.

State of My Head

Grim’s gone (and so are a few others), and turns out Emi cares enough to be feeling very protective. Not like she can rush STYX guns blazing but yeah, she’s not exactly feeling meek here.

Bleeding for the Cure

For Idia’s overblot. Was a bit tricky finding something exact for this, but I think the mood’s pretty fitting here. Plus how Idia's feeling like she doesn't have a chance for a future outside STYX and all that fun stuff.

The Symphony

Things are looking more up, Ramshackle’s starting to get more cozy with what Emi & Jamil have been doing to fix it up, some of the anxieties have been leaving Emi. And, mayhaps, there are some feelings stirring?

A Dark Switch & Aquaman

Emi’s starting to realize her feelings for Jamil and commit to it. I could've stuck with just one song but I could not bring myself to do so.

The Looking Glass

For book 7. Comatose by Ayreon would’ve also been great, but again, trying to cull things down.

The rest is basically more or less sappy love songs for Jamemi’s future, lol. Still, it’s not all sunshine and roses - there’s times of separation in their future, with them being on different years on NRC, they gotta lean on each other, and it’s not like they always see eye to eye.

Honestly it was so hard not to make this too long with all the songs I wanted to include, but I’m quite happy with the range here.

And like, how could I not dedicate some time to being thoroughly sappy with these two.

Tagging @scint1llat3 @moonyasnow @bibi-cha

If anyone else would like to be tagged for Emi things, do let me know!

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lachelledavies-winchester · 6 months ago

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He returned the glance with a proud attitude and they stared at each other once more. Sam noticed the silent glances they were giving each other and offered to go question the elderly witness and let his brother go with her to inspect the buildings; after all, he also needed some space from Dean now and then.

The Winchester was quite happy to be alone with her, the only downside being that she had to occupy the passenger seat of her Mustang.

« Bon Jovi, Genesis, Pink Floyd, Scorpions, Guns N' Roses, » he read.

« Not bad, but you can do better. Real music stopped in '79, the rest is mmh. » he lamented as he turned the pages of the record rack.

The woman glanced at him suddenly then back at the road; she remembered that she had experienced that scene before and that her interlocutor's attitude and manner of dress were too similar not to notice. The hunter continued to browse, complaining from time to time.

« Do you know you have bad taste? » he asked her, showing her a Bryan Adams playlist.

« You can't imagine how much. » she replied, thinking about the effect his presence was having on her own body. « Do you know there are mp3s now? They're just old CDs. » she lied with an air of superiority; she was in love with Bryan Adams but liked to maintain the tough image.

« The music I listen to is on another level. »

« Everyone listens to what they want, it's not a contest of who's on top. » mumbled the woman as she parked her car in the same spot as the day before.

« If you mean the two of us, I have no problem being downstairs with you, honey. »

She stared at him with crossed arms unable to contain her smile; that cheekiness of his made her feel so wanted, it was a heady feeling. At the mere idea of tasting those lips she felt every part of her body catch fire.

« We are here. Can you concentrate on your work? »

« Of course, I am a professional. » he exclaimed, addressing her with a dizzying wink and got off.

She waited a few seconds in the car, trying to convince herself not to mess with him; she hated it when she liked someone Bobby knew, it was harder not to see a hunter again, and she would have liked to avoid awkward situations at work.

For the whole chapter:

#dean x original character #supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural rewrite #Supernatural #Dean x reader #supernatural smut

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theyuniversity · 1 year ago

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This post was inspired in part by the following tweet:

We have many followers for whom English is not their primary language. To their credit, they are motivated to improve their writing in English. (Before we get too far along, if you want to get better at speaking in English, British English Coach has compiled this comprehensive list of 33 tips.)

Writing is hard for everyone. It doesn’t matter if you’re a native English speaker or an ESL (English as a second language) or EFL (English as a foreign language) student. We offer the following tips that have been proven to work—not just for us but countless people we’ve worked with.

Let’s start with the most important tip of all:

1. WRITE EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Writing has been aptly compared to a muscle that needs to be built through exertion and repetition. Remember when you tried to master spinning a pencil around your thumb? It was hard at first, right? And if you recall, you didn’t get better at it by reading an instruction manual or asking a friend who was really good at it. You ultimately perfected it by trying a hundred times a day.

Writing works in the same way: you don’t get better at it simply by reading writing guides or hiring the most expensive writing tutor with the most prestigious diploma. The only way to improve your writing is by dint of hard work and practice. Fortunately, your daily practice doesn’t have to consist of composing a five-page essay on fungal meiosis. You can write a summary of your day, a review of one of your favorite bands’ music video, or a response to a random writing prompt. (If you want such prompts, Writer’s Digest recently compiled an interesting list.) If you get into the habit of writing daily, your writing muscle will strengthen, thereby enabling you to write better and faster.

DON’T: Say I’ll write for x minutes a day. The clock might say that you’ve spent x minutes, but your paper or computer screen might be completely blank, i.e., it was a waste of time.

DON’T: Say I’ll write when I have something interesting to write about. Even if you cure cancer or discover Atlantis, you’ll find a way to convince yourself that those achievements aren’t interesting enough to write about. Just write.

DO: Say I’ll write at least x sentences, paragraphs, or pages a day. Set a tangible goal that you can’t achieve unless you actually write.

2. BREAK THROUGH THE INEVITABLE WRITER’S BLOCK.

The dreaded blank page plagues people writing in their native language, so writer’s block will be particularly daunting to ESL and EFL students who have the additional burden of “translating” their ideas into English. If you find yourself drawing a complete blank or simply unable to get started, ask yourself trivial questions that don’t require much thinking: What did I eat for lunch today? What made it taste good? What could have made it better? What do I want to eat tomorrow? Start writing by answering those easy questions. Sometimes, all it takes to break through writer’s block is to see text going across the screen or your handwriting filling up a line. During your daily practice, your writing doesn’t have to be inspiring. You’re not trying to start a new literary movement; you’re just working out your writing muscle.

DON’T: Say I’ll start writing after I get over my writer’s block. That is just a convenient excuse to avoid writing. Writer’s block is not like the cold: you don’t get over it by taking a pill, and it doesn’t magically go away.

DO: Get your daily writing started by answering simple, mundane questions instead of waiting for divine inspiration.

3. FIND YOUR MUSE / INSPIRATION.

Muses come in all shapes, colors, and sizes. For us, it comes in the form of a K-pop idol named G-Dragon. Listening to his songs and watching his music videos bring out our creative side. (Not surprisingly, we are listening to a G-Dragon / BIGBANG playlist while writing this post.) Finding a really good muse is difficult, so when you find one, take full advantage of it. In our case, G-Dragon not only inspires creative thinking, but he also often serves as the topic of our writing. A quick look at our Twitter timeline will reveal that he is the protagonist of hundreds of tweets. This is what we tell each other: “When writer’s block is knocking at the door, write (tweet) about G-Dragon.” Your muse can—and should—do the same for you.

If the thought of looking for a muse is too abstract or awkward, try this simple exercise: write letters to your crush. In other words, make your current crush your muse. Whether you end up sending the letters you write is up to you, but writing them will be good for your soul. You’ll be able to release your pent-up feelings and get some inspired, heartfelt writing done at the same time. It’s a classic win-win situation.

DON’T: Say that muses don’t exist or think that you won’t find one.

DO: Keep an open mind, and when you search for a muse, start with your favorite artist, singer, writer, or your current crush.

4. READ A LOT. THEN READ SOME MORE.

We’ve never met a good writer who wasn’t an avid reader. The printed word is an excellent role model for writing. Read novels. Read newspapers. Read nonfiction. Whatever you decide to read, do so with a notebook and a pen. Pay attention to syntax (word order), sentence structure, and diction (word choice). If there are certain sentences that you like for whatever reason, jot them down. Rewrite them in your own words. If you come across a new word that captures your attention, look up what it means—then use it immediately in your own writing. (Start by using the word in your daily writing practice until you feel confident that you can use it properly in essays for school.) Read actively. Don’t do it just to entertain yourself or to pass the time. Remember: your goal is to become a better writer.

DON’T: Read only childish comic books or gossip magazines. They might keep you amused, but they won’t improve your writing much.

DO: Actively read good writing and imitate (not plagiarize!) good phrases, sentences, and even paragraphs. Follow the italicized steps above.

5. GET MORE EYES AND MOUTHS INVOLVED.

Following tips 1-4 faithfully can take you far toward becoming a better writer. However, it’s also helpful to get people you respect and trust involved. First, extra sets of eyes examining your writing for the first time can catch mistakes that you didn’t notice because you’ve been staring at the same writing for so long. Second, good writers can offer suggestions and different ways to revise your writing that you might never have considered on your own. Lastly, learning to receive constructive criticism is a valuable skill. Some people cannot bear to hear their work criticized, so they either refuse to ask others for help or ignore any comments they do receive. Predictably, most of them are average writers who rarely improve.

DON’T: Treat writing as a completely solitary activity. Although you ultimately have to do the writing by yourself, you don’t have to block everyone else out during the process.

DO: Consult your English teachers, older students who are good writers, or writing tutors and get feedback on your writing. See if their comments are accurate; if they are, apply them. Be humble and openminded.

6. IMPROVE YOUR GRAMMAR.

A great story, thesis, or argument won’t be so great if your readers can’t understand what you’re trying to say. Equally bad is if they actually can understand you, but your poor grammar is so distracting that they don’t want to read further. It’s like a movie that has a compelling plot line ruined by terrible dialogue or unrealistic special effects.

So why is this important tip at the bottom of the list? Learning English grammar is a never-ending exercise full of contradictions and inconsistencies. It is a skill that needs to develop with your writing, not before it. Otherwise, you’ll spend all your time memorizing irregular verbs and learning the difference between who and whom, instead of actually writing. So if you’re writing a sentence and you’re not sure if you need to use the subjunctive mood, use Google. If the search results are overwhelming, follow tip #5 and ask someone.

Getting better at writing is hard. You will experience your share of failure along the way, but you can do it! Don’t give up!

#grammar #writing #English #English class #writing tips #ESL #EFL #ELA #ELT #studyblr #study tips

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multiplicity-positivity · 1 year ago

Note

this is going to be a weird question, but do you know of any system oriented activities? like, things alters can do together? or do you know any worksheets, or any ways to make the system want to. like. get along? a lot of the system doesn't interact with eachother, and like, i don't want to force them into stuff they don't want to, but i feel like it'd be beneficial to do something fun together, because, long story short, we don't know eachother very well and there isn't much trust between us. sorry for the rambling!

hey, this is a really great question. let’s see if any of our tips could work for y’all…

we have this post which is basically an icebreaker worksheet made by ralsei. it’s designed to help alters and headmates get to know each other better. you’re welcome to copy it into your notes, print off copies for your alters to complete, or do whatever you wish with it to encourage your alters to fill it out.

you could also edit or adjust the worksheet to include more applicable questions for your system. or create your own list of interview questions and leave them in an easily accessible place so different alters can answer them as they like.

y’all also might enjoy answering ask games to get to know each other. note you don’t have to get asks in order to answer the questions, and you don’t have to post your answers, either. you can definitely just write your answers in a document or note just for your system! here are some inclusive ask game posts:

x (<- tw: syscourse mention) x x x

y’all can try to find common interests, and if any are revealed through doing interviews/completing ask games/general communication, you can try to do things together. we’re not sure how capable your system is of cofronting, but if some alters in your system are able to cofront together, y’all can start trying to do activities together.

our system loves playing videogames together. we either work together to play the game, or one of us plays while the others watch. you can also do stimulating “solo” play, like playing pretend, drawing/coloring, blowing bubbles, or building with blocks and legos. cofronting can allow other alters to work together during play and can help build teamwork and communication. (you don’t need to be a child in order to benefit from play! kids and adults alike can improve inner relationships through playtime.)

if your system has an inner world, y’all can try visualizing something fun to do, or create an adventure for you to go on together. if you’re new to thinking about inner worlds/headspaces, this post from dis-sos has some info on building a headspace and the importance of inside safe spaces for folks with dissociative disorders (we’re assuming y’all have one since you said “alters”). remember that you don’t have to be traumatized in order to benefit from a headspace - it may help y’all get on the same page and learn to cohabit your mind together.

once y’all know a little more about each other, a great way to bond is through doing nice things for each other. so doing a chore that a different alter normally does, making a food that you know a particular alter is fond of, accumulating objects that remind you of each other, making playlists for each other, and simply thinking kind thoughts towards each other may help y’all foster stronger bonds and grow closer as a result. some alters may come forward with their own ideas of group activities once they feel a bit more at ease within the system.

remember patience is so important when it comes to working with alters and forging bonds and connections. it may take some time before your alters start listening to you or show any interest in getting to know each other. they may be skittish, slow to trust, or quick to anger. they may struggle to communicate at all at first. all these things are natural for systems - learning to trust and communicate is a skill just like any other, and new skills take time to master. don’t be discouraged if it takes a while before your alters start to come around!

followers, feel free to share the ways in which your system bonds and what sort of fun activities y’all do together.

we hope this helps! best of luck with getting to know your system :)

🐢 kip and 💫 parker

#long post #internal communication #system activities #building connections #building trust #building communication

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n7punk · 1 year ago

Text

"City of Angels" Fic Notes

CoA is done! This was a fun little ride. It ended up a bit longer than I predicted but this is the first fic in a while that didn’t become a runaway so I’ll take that. Actually nvm I just checked and I predicted this fic would be 15k. Oops. The share link will be up later tonight, but for now, here’s the fic notes!

Playlist:

My playlist for this one was less emotional stuff and more “LA sucks” songs, so it’s shorter, but honestly it worked really well. For me, a playlist is something that either 1) helps with the mood/ideas while I’m writing or 2) something that makes me WANT to write when I hear it because I tie it to those ideas, so the LA songs actually worked really well even where they were less relevant. The emotional songs are all centered around the breakup/conflict at the beginning, but the playlist still worked.

City of Angels — Em Beihold.

LA — The Veronicas.

Arizona Pretty — Kailee Morgue.

The Very First Night — Taylor Swift.

Strangers — FLETCHER.

I’m Not Mad — Halsey.

Good Idea At The Time — The Wombats.

MODERATION — Lilyisthatyou. (I’ll be honest I think I added this when I was writing the club scenes as, like, the kind of background music they would be hearing to get in that mood because it’s not relevant to the rest of the fic, but it is a banger lmao)

Epilogue Life:

For a while, Adora and Catra are infuriatingly vague to the press about each other. They’ll go to events together and act like a couple, telling stories and clearly knowing each other well, but they just get all mysterious when asked questions. Eventually, after many months of dating, they’re a bit more willing to talk about their relationship. At that point they confirm that they are dating and later admit that they went to the same acting school, having known each other since they were kids. It takes a long time — “coincidentally” shortly after Catra’s career really solidifies her as someone to watch for years to come — before it comes out that they were foster kids with the same guardian who trained them in acting. They basically just say “yeah, she was our teacher so it was kind of like being in class 24/7” and don’t comment on it further. They (well, Catra at least) would love to dig into Weaver, but saying anything bad about Weaver is basically signing a ticket to have her try to sell every one of their secrets she knows. The closest they get is when someone bothers Catra about the “mutual guardian” thing with her then-fiancée and she basically snaps “that was not a family, that was a boarding school. We were not her children or siblings” and the clip ends up online. Mysteriously, they never hear anything from Weaver in retribution, but DT soon after stops having a favor owed to them at two different tabloids.

Adora and Catra both settle into each other’s places and lives. They keep calling their places “Catra’s apartment” and “Adora’s house” for a long time because each is definitely more owned by one of them (both legally and practically), but in daily life it really has morphed into the apartment in the city and the private house passed the edges of town. Their relationship rekindles beyond where it used to be and, despite them never really publicly “clarifying” their relationship once they’re on the same page about being traditional girlfriends, everybody treats them as a couple up until the point where they get married and become wives instead.

For a while Adora remains more famous/ubiquitous than Catra, but her career peters down over time while Catra diversifies and has such a range she becomes one of the go-to magicats in Hollywood. Adora is very happy with her moderate success and wildly successful wife, though. I don’t remember if I kept the “joke speculation” about this in the fic, but eventually Adora leaves show business to direct a small children’s theater group with the love and warmth she was missing in her own education. She loves it. She loves working with the kids, she loves the low stakes of community plays, and — as referenced in the fic — she loves stage acting.

Catra keeps up in Hollywood all the way until she’s a gray fox, always attending her award shows with her wife on her arm, which is pretty much the only time Adora steps back into the limelight. Adora had her fun, but her own mental health does better in her new career path. It barely pays, but that’s what Catra and Adora’s old investments/savings are for. Occasionally one of her kids really goes down the Hollywood path and Adora does a little networking for them.

Chapter 1:

⦁ Neck kissing is enough of a thing for Adora that it was a total red flag that it wasn’t doing it for her and I find that hilarious.

⦁ Catra’s reputation for calling shit out really bit her as soon as the public picked up on her interaction with Adora. The theory Adora was secretly racist was slowly gaining some traction within Catra’s fanbase, as well as outside of it when that seemed more scandalous — ie, profitable to talk about — to gossipers/tabloids. Catra had been avoiding Adora for years as she built herself up, but when that started spreading, she reached out for Adora’s sake as much as hers. Being friends with some of Adora’s friends, all the stories she has heard seemed to show Adora as she remembered her and not some egomonster twisted by fame, but even starting to wonder if the Adora she loved still existed and their relationship could be repaired, she stayed away until she had a name of her own to stand on. Partly because of pride and partly, yes, because of the stupid superstition.

⦁ Catra was really trying to puff herself up for the encounter, scared of Adora getting under her skin again, but the end of it really threw her off. She made the dig about Adora’s talent and realized — at least a bit — how much it hurt from the way she retreated, and then Adora backed down which she doesn’t do, and then she said she missed her and left. It was the first step to Catra really starting to consider her again.

⦁ When I went to write the first chapter end note, I realized you could easily consider DITM, ASGNE, and SaD “celebrity” fics, not to mention stuff like 5GR that brushes up against fame in some other way, or even SLAS with the socialite aspect. I only really consider DITM and maybe ASGNE celebrity AUs, though, with the others just dealing with some level of fame or notoriety in their specific area (cosplay, sports, etc).

⦁ I was supposed to do a whole fic extra about this, but I didn’t, so I’m just going to whack it up as a block of text here regarding Adora’s reputation and public perception: Adora came out of nowhere and played a kind of a-typical character to be the lead of an action series. She was so similar to her character and dorky in interviews that she immediately grew a very attached fanbase. You know that gif of Jennifer Lawrence looking at Anne Hatheway at the Oscars “like she’s a unicorn” because she’s fangirling herself that everybody reblogged back in 2014 or whatever? Yeah, that exact gif exists of Adora and was kind of the vibe that inspired her public perception here. That and the girl who played April Ludgate saying weird shit in interviews. Adora seems ~quirky and relatable and down to Earth~ (AKA doesn’t know how to cultivate a public personality or censor herself) so she gets a lot of fans pretty quickly. She has this cocky thing that works for lesbians and this “girl next door” vibe that works on everybody else, so she keeps getting “typecast” in those roles because that’s what everyone wants to see her in and her fans will follow her from movie to movie without hesitation when those similarities are there. Of course, the truth is taking on a totally different character is difficult for her, but between auditions for other stuff not working out and more of that fair calling for her, she has been legitimately typecast at this point. She’s way too honest in interviews and it works out for her. Everybody feels connected to her despite how there are sides of herself — the fragile ones — she never lets anyone see, and she’s a household name with her face synonymous with an entire franchise.

Chapter 2:

⦁ Perfuma was there to make sure they didn’t end up hooking up in the bathroom as much as she was standing guard, it’s just that no one ever said that to Adora. Perfuma was supportive of them reconciling now she was getting to know Catra better, but she thought that just might be counterproductive to it.

Chapter 3:

⦁ Catra knew there was a chance of them meeting at the party since she closely associates Randor’s name with Adora. She assumed Adora wouldn’t happen to be on the other side of the country to come to the party, but it was in the back of her mind as a possibility, so she wasn’t that surprised when Adora showed up. Mostly she was grateful for someone she could seem like she was engaging with socially while really she could just relax.

⦁ I rarely put Catra in skirts but in this case it was insurance to make sure her tuck never showed or anything.

⦁ Imitation is part of my larger universe of fics, with it being one of Catra’s movies that she won an Oscar for in DITM. Gunmetal was one of her movies in that fic, and later one of Sea Hawk’s in ASGNE (he was also in it in DITM), and in this fic it’s the third of Adora’s trilogy of movies.

⦁ Catra’s name being “Beth” in her breakout role is once again a reference to the “her real name is Elizabeth” joke from crew.

⦁ Alright the premise of Adora’s breakout trilogy is basically you have a classic action guy who’s secretly a spy and he’s in love with his next-door-neighbor (Adora) who he greets in the hallway every morning. And then in the first ten minutes of the movie he goes missing, and Adora accidentally witnesses suspicious activity at his place and then he never comes out to greet her in the mornings anymore and it starts her down this track of investigating for herself and finding his secret spy gear and going on a mission to rescue him without any knowledge of the spy organization he actually worked for. The whole movie there’s this assumption by the audience that she loves him back and that’s why she’s going to these lengths. She talks with another character about how they’ve known each other since high school and you think oh when she rescues him there will be a confession, and then she does rescue him and, when he’s finally in the movie again after an hour and 42 minutes (at no point was he shown before that so the viewer is just as unsure as Adora whether he’s still alive), it’s revealed she was his babysitter back in the day (she’s a few years older) and she sees him like a younger brother and has no connection to him like that, on top of being a lesbian with a girlfriend he didn’t know about because it turns out he really didn’t know that much about her at all having only had some conversations with her in the hall after they happened to move into the same building after going to different colleges. It’s partially a joke and partially a commentary, although not as progressive as it’s going for considering they casted a 20-year-old for the female lead and an almost 30-year-old for the male despite him supposedly being younger because in Hollywood women HAVE to be young and attractive. It does solidify Adora’s character though, because she went through all of this just for a guy she once knew as a sweet kid and that she was worried about. The sequels are set up by his spy agency inviting her to join them at the end of the first movie since she proved herself by rescuing one of their own. It’s a good button on the end of a single movie and was also a great setup for sequels when they were greenlit. The last two movies have an overarching story connection with the agency turning out to be corrupt and his capture was an inside job, though they can be viewed individually. He’s, once again, barely in the movies and has been demoted to deskwork (which does end up giving him a critical moment where he witnesses something at the office that blows the corruption open, so he’s still important but not the focus). Adora’s struggles with balancing her secret life with her girlfriend are a sideplot in the sequel and in part III they’ve broken up due to Adora being a shitty girlfriend (big oof, Superzero parallel there but it also hit too close to home for in-universe Adora) and she’s gets a new love interest in the form of a sidekick. At the end they basically found their own agency together after taking down her old one. Lesbians love the power dream. In the first movie (and in later movies, but especially at first where she isn’t a part of this world) the character Adora is playing is basically… herself, but with action hero skills, which is why she was cast, because basically as soon as the team saw her audition they were like. That’s the girl. That’s who we’re trying to get someone to play and that just is her. The movie ended up being successful enough that it spawned a graphic novel followed by a comic book series which ran for years and kind of went off the rails into cloning and shit. Typical comic weirdness tbh, but the technology in the comic is noticeably more futuristic (and impossible) than that in the movies. It’s almost like the comics are set 60 years later.

⦁ Catra started blockers and hormones younger than… like 99% of trans people. Part of there being less transphobia means it’s easier to realize your identity and a Lot easier to get access to healthcare, so her natural voice isn’t deep or anything, but when Adora talks about it getting rough that’s Catra letting go of the training she has done to keep it controlled, not just in pitch, but also in cadence.

Chapter 4:

⦁ The tabloid website description is based off my (likely inaccurate) memories of the one time I stumbled into an article on the extremely trashy Perez Hilton gossip magazine website. My memories of it are that they were being truly disgusting about how a like, 16 year old Disney actress was dressed.

⦁ Being that this is a transphobia lite AU, name/gender change process stuff is better and more effective. Catra got her birth certificate and everything updated at a very young age, so unless someone wanted to dig specifically into name change orders from the county she grew up in the year she did it, it would be very hard to find out she used to have a different legal name or gender.

Chapter 5:

⦁ There’s a lot of talk about Catra being “more” talented, and while it’s right, it’s relative. Adora wasn’t cut out to be a great actress. She has honed the skill until she was capable of doing it, but Catra is more naturally inclined towards it and, having had just as much time to hone her skill, is still better. That doesn’t make Adora untalented, it just means she’s not naturally inclined to acting and she was set up to a losing game when Weaver made sure that was the measure by which she valued them and taught them to value themselves. Of course, Weaver still views Catra as mediocre (because she “doesn’t apply herself” and “surfs on talent without honing her skill”) and she views Adora as having the dedication, making her more favorable, but not having enough because otherwise she would perform better than the “lazy” Catra. She also just views Adora more favorably because 1) she does well at stage-acting, an art Weaver’s shitty intellectualism views as superior (in the way that people writing Adora’s biographies in twenty years will say she was even greater than anyone ever knew because she was a good stage actress too), and 2) talent or not, Adora got more roles, and more results meant she was clearly better. Whatever Adora’s technical faults, Catra’s sour attitude was clearly holding her back. If Catra would “just change” then she could finally live up to her potential, and thus she must be personally spiting Weaver by holding back. Weaver’s view of the world is very self-centered.

⦁ Part of the reason Catra said “never again” despite liking the dance was the possibility of them being seen. It would be easy for the tabloids to paint her as a toy or somehow to diminish her worth with it. The rest was that while it was hot, it could become problematic behavior if it were in a pattern — and maybe behavior in line with the selfish, attention-hungry version of Adora she built up in her head when they broke up.

Chapter 6:

⦁ Catra sends Adora that smile after mentioning sleeping in a limo because she’s thinking about how they almost hooked up in the car, it just kind of went over Adora’s head.

⦁ Alright, hybrids and makeup. So far mentions of Catra’s makeup in others’ fics where she’s “supposed” to be human are the number one immersion breaker for me in those (because I just imagine Catra as a magicat regardless) but I do think hybrids could/would wear it. It varies by species obviously (lizardfolk essentially have scale paint they can wear and claw polish/strains, but nothing else that looks traditional beauty products), but a lot of the hybrids could wear some level of the typical stuff. There’s kind of three camps on Catra’s appearance (full fluff, general fluff but not on some places like faces and hands, or no fur just skin). Obviously in the third she can wear all regular beauty products, but it’s noncanonical and not my usual interpretation. I guess I’m somewhere in between them, but either way the skin just around her eyes could probably take fairly traditional products, and she could wear things like blush if there were a special style of product for it that doesn’t exist in our world to accommodate fluffy cheeks. As such, I think wearing lipstick or eyeliner isn’t out of the question for Catra ever, but things like eye shadow and blush get more iffy depending on your interpretation, and foundation is pretty far out there. All that “possible hybrid products” stuff established, Perfuma’s line has a lot of stuff like that included and that’s part of why Catra was talking about the differences in formula for their different kinds of skin. And if you always picture her hairless then I suppose she was just talking about the colors on different skintones to you.

⦁ I had a whole thing I cut out from this chapter about how Catra transitioned under Weaver but I deleted it for the transphobia. I’m going to cover it here, but like, trigger warning. Basically, context matters a lot, so stuff that’s just problematic for reasons unrelated to transphobia in their world is awful in ours. With it being socially acceptable, Weaver didn’t have a lot of reason to say no to Catra’s transition other than it being expensive, which led to things like Catra borrowing Adora’s clothes until she had outgrown the ones she already had and Weaver would let her buy new ones from the right department now she had to spend the money anyway (did they look much different than the ones she already had since neither of them are super femme? No. Did they feel better? Yes). Adora mentions Catra doing HRT young, which was absolutely what Catra wanted, but the part I cut out was that this was one of her few choices that Weaver fully supported her in. Support is kind of a bad word, though, because the reason she approved was she thought that Catra needed to transition as early as possible if she was going to do it because otherwise she might not fit beauty standards and not get any parts. Growing up ugly might as well be every pageant mom’s worst fear and has little to do with gender in-universe, but IRL this is just horrible. There’s so many people who have thought that they couldn’t/shouldn’t transition because it was “too late” and I didn’t want to include anything like it in the fic. I’m only including it here because I’ve previously thought about how controlling Weaver would be in a situation where either of them transitions (in AUs or canon) so I had to think about what would lead her to supporting it and keeping it “a secret” in this AU over the years of Catra’s fame. At this point revealing Catra is trans wouldn’t gain Weaver anything other than making Catra uncomfortable about strangers knowing her deadname or just thinking about her genitals at all (I’ll never forget that Laverne Cox interview where the interviewer thought for some reason they could/should ask about if she had bottom surgery and she just had to laugh it off and say “I’m very happy with the situation down there” without clarifying).

⦁ Regarding timing, my trans headcanons for them fall in line with my sexuality headcanons for them. Catra knows and falls young, but Adora takes a lot longer and might need a big push. In the case of transitioning, Catra realizes very young she’s a girl and is insistent on the fact no matter what others try to tell her. Adora tries to push through it and doesn’t understand why she can’t live up to macho standards or whatever (or never feels like she is, anyway) until eventually enough shit piles on and the realization breaks that she never wanted that set of standards anyway. She would absolutely be the one to be like “Well I’m just Aware™️ of toxic masculinity because I listen to my female friends so much and that’s why everything feels wrong, no need to question the masculine part tho!” with her blinders on full force.

Chapter 7:

⦁ Adora is continually baffled by Catra’s ability to not measure things or use a recipe.

⦁ Entrapta is primarily a VFX and CGI artist in this verse but not a force on Earth could stop her from hacking sometimes.

⦁ Part of the reason Catra wanted the site down was for Adora’s sake. She knows the joke bothers her too.

⦁ Chapters 5, 6, and 7 are interesting because they all contain a scene that was originally in one of the others. They saw a lot of rearranging, which is the main reason I took three days before posting chapters 4 and 5 as I got 5/6/7 settled. I’m ordering this by how things originally started and putting where they ended up in parenthesis. Originally, Chapter 5 had the morning after scene (CH5), an Instagram scene (deleted, I’ll explain in a sec), the the aquarium scene (CH6), photoshoot scene (CH6), and the confession scene (CH6). Then the fic rolled right into the final chapter, 6, with the talk show (CH7) and Clawdeen scenes (CH7). More stuff from the final epilogue was planned to come after but by then I had new ideas and ended up inserting two new chapters to accommodate them. The cut “Instagram” scene featured Adora seeing Catra with the Star siblings on Jewel’s Instagram story and wondering about where things stood with her and Tali. She tried to focus on her shoot, but that night Catra texted her for a booty call and Adora accepted. It gave Adora some confidence that Catra was coming to her when Tali was more convenient, but she also didn’t know if Catra had just struck out. The truth was that being around someone she used to hook up with got Catra thinking down those lines again (horny) so she called Adora up. This felt like too early or them to hook up again, though, and writing that scene got me thinking about the dynamic between all three of them, which gave me the idea for the club dance scenes. When I initially wrote them, they opened chapter 6 following the confession scene and were really different. It didn’t fit with them already being “official,” even if it was casual. I didn’t want to have two scenes centered around the Tali thing either since it really wasn’t a big deal in their lives, so I cut the earlier Instagram scene in favor of the dancing and moved it to before the confession by moving the photoshoot and confession back to chapter 6. I also wrote the scene in Catra’s kitchen at that time (originally opening CH6) but moved it back because (conversely) it didn’t fit with them not being together yet. That’s when Chapter 6 took it’s final form in the fic. I changed the concept of Chapter 7 to go from “wrap up/epilogue” to “public interacting with their relationship” with epilogue following in Chapter 8. I moved the kitchen scene in to 7 and paired it with the talk show and Clawdeen scenes for the final version in the fic. Whenever I moved a scene, it needed rewriting to fit within the tone of their relationship in its new place in the timeline, but sometimes that was the entire reason I moved scenes. The club/dance scenes did not feel like they took place when their relationship was confirmed, so I moved them back to before it. The scene in Catra’s kitchen didn’t feel like it took place before they were confirmed because Adora should have been freaking out about the implications of people thinking they were dating a lot more, so I moved it after. All these moves still required tweaks, but I think everything flows way better where it is now and the chapters (5, 6, 7, and 8) are all decent lengths rather than the final two chapters turning out to be behemoths. After writing this note, I realized I had to go back and rearrange bullet points in my fic notes too since the relevant scenes had moved LOL

Chapter 8:

⦁ The reason Adora’s house is so far out is because that’s what it takes to get a quiet neighborhood where no one will rat her out to the press. Some of her neighbors recognize her, but so far everyone has been chill.

⦁ I’m putting it here because I kept waiting to squeeze it into the fic and I never did so this is my last chance: Weaver’s “backstory” in this is that she wanted to be a Hollywood star and thought she had gotten her big break when she was cast in a soap opera that showed promise. Season one was so bad it crashed hard and almost sabotaged the careers of anyone associated it. Still, hate watching numbers are still numbers, so it came back for a second season that had such low viewership numbers (since it wasn’t even interesting enough for hate watching really and that kind of thing always has a limit) that it was canceled halfway through and the rest of the filmed episodes never aired. Weaver pretty much never got cast in anything again. When she started to age, she “accepted” it was over since Hollywood likes young and beautiful women. She became an acting teacher, and after one of the children from her first set of classes went on to get a successful role, Weaver saw the dollar signs and the chance to maybe grasp at a fraction of the fame she wanted. She decided to foster two potential cash cows and try to raise them up with her as their stage manager so she can directly attribute their success to her (this was as important to her from a personal vindication standpoint as it was a financial one) and finally say that she clearly had what it took to make it in Hollywood since she could steer others through it, she just got unlucky guys :(

⦁ Before I wrote anything for this AU I predicted it would be 5 chapters and 15k, but by the time I went to post it that... was obviously wrong and I said 6 chapters at 30k. It ended up at 38k and honestly at this point I'm calling that win with my history.

⦁ Okay this AU. is interesting. Normally I would put an “Original Outline” at the end of the chapter summary but this one is really brief so I’m just tacking it onto Chapter 8. The idea for this AU came when I was listening to City Of Angels and went “the Catradora vibes are so here,” so I put it on my possible AUs list as just “City of Angels AU” and moved on, waiting for that idea to catch. A few months later (back in February or March probably?) I randomly got the idea for — essentially — chapter 4. I outlined the award show scene with the stupid golden touch joke, them talking on their date (though when I outlined it the conversation had no context) and then them in the car and going home together after “some party.” I had other fics at the time that I was working on, so it had to wait in line, but it was really stupid and fun. I didn’t have much overarching planning ahead of time, so there’s not much to go over other than stuff like the changes around Chapter 5, 6, and 7, but I will say the old plan was for the stuff I labeled as CH5 to, well, be in chapter 5 and then the final chapter would be award show stuff and them at a party together. As I was writing I watched Eddy Burbank’s video on the death of late night TV and added the interview scene (I find those a lot of fun anyway so it was kind of glaring that one was missing in hindsight) and then the Clawdeen scene just kind of happened and led to other changes. The final scene of the fic was outlined before all the major changes that added two more chapters, but it just added to the roster of scenes that required the buffing out.

Upcoming:

So. Here’s the thing. I kind of promised I wouldn’t do something a long time ago and like, I’ve dabbled adjacent to it, but now we’re. we’re just doing the damn thing. So the next AU is called Trade Today For Tomorrow. And it’s going to be up like, in the next day or two probably. Because I’m insane. I wrote over 7000 words in one day. Actually I did something similar for this project, I had like two 6k~ days. I’m in my unhinged era.

#im fucking INSANE for my next project so i had to edit this so i could post it and be able to start doing that #i mean i finished CoA 4 days ago. ive just been posting every other day while i work on the new thing since its fucking long #but brrrrrrr its almost time so lets get this up tonight #coa #fic notes #ficmeta

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