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sapphireshineauthor · 1 year ago

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A Personal Breakdown and Comparison of the Big Three of Fanfiction: Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.Net, and Wattpad

Considering the whole chaos with AO3 that happened recently, I wanted to write about this again since it's been on my to-do list. Disclaimer, I am trying to be objective, but some factors may still appear as personal opinions on the matter, so keep that in mind. This is a long one, so be prepared for an extensive read, I still tried to be concise but thorough. Experts on these sites, feel free to step in and offer your expertise as well on here. Also do correct me on any potential mistakes, this was a long one...

Archive of Our Own:

Pros:

Easy User Interface

Tagging system/fic filter system

Various options for site customization

Search by tag system, addition of major warning tags

Html support, picture and audio integration options

Copy and paste function

Zero advertisement

Engaging comment sections

Friendly UI, writer and reader friendly.

Has function to download fics for offline reading (formats: AWZ3, MOBI, PDF, EPUB, HTML)

Cons:

Tags can get cluttered

Search Bar doesn't work as well as search by tag filter

Rusty crossover format

Rusty character/relationship involvement sorting

Cannot upload documents

No personal DM function.

Can take awhile sorting through tags depending...

Archive of Our Own (AO3) has been my personal favorite of these websites. I've been using it for several years and despite dabbling in various other sites, this one is still my preference.

To start off strong, the pros for AO3 (obvious or not) is the interface. I personally find it extremely easy to use and all the options given are extremely nice for writers and readers alike. For writers, you can give yourself pseuds to help categorize your own fics, sort by the fandoms you write, add tags, allow co-writers, moderate and respond to comments, mass edit stories, and so on. While the site doesn't seem to have an option to upload a document, it does have options to include pictures, audio, and various other media, including links to other stories or videos. It also allows authors to directly respond to comments on their fics and allow for more discussion and engagement in the story (or fandom) between authors and readers (don't be afraid to leave comments!)

In terms of being a reader (and writer) one of my favorite functions by far is the bookmark, history, and subscribe functions. They are what they say, bookmarks can be a public or private tab that are various favorite fics you wanted to save for later or keep note of and not want to search for it again. History is a list of all the fics you've clicked on and it's private solely to you, no one can see your fic history, so if you don't want to bookmark, but remembered something you read, you can look for it in your history. Subscriptions are also a favorite if you don't want too many tabs, you subscribe to a story and you'll get an email every time that fic is updated with a new chapter. Additionally, fics can be downloaded for offline reading (most popular format it seems are epub and pdf).

Now then, onto the main event, tags. If there's one thing AO3 is known for, it's tags. All sorts of them.

The pros of the tags: easy filtering, searching, and organizing.

The best part about AO3 tags is how easy to filter fics are.

It's part of a writer's duty to tag what they have in their stories (and at least tag what we think is relevant if we have trouble thinking of specifics) and most uphold this duty, even at the most basic forms of relevant characters or themes or warnings.

AO3 has an extremely well made filter system (in my opinion), and I've been making good use of it in recent days. If you want stories with a specific character or genre, or theme, use the "Include" function and type in those relevant tags.

If you want to exclude fics specifically, you can "Exclude" the relevant tags and the system should exclude all works with those tags, ratings, or themes, in them from your search. If there is an issue with it, my only gripe is that there aren't any "filter preferences/presets" for the site. By that I mean if you click on a new character tag, you need to re add all of your filters to get your specific stories again unless you're well adept at using the back button (which honestly most people are adept at) and re-organizing your filters there, but it's an extremely minor issue that doesn't really affect the experience.

Now then, the cons of the site. There aren't many, but there are a few. Which again, involves the tags. AO3's extensive list of relevant tags for various fandoms is a blessing as it is a curse. One such factor is the idea of crossovers. Crossovers may be easy for other series, but for series that have various media forms for the same fandom, they end up having different fandom tags.

For example, my fic "Scarlet Eyes in the Academy" had a total of 5 fandom tags, even though it's only a crossover between two series. This is because both have different media that have their own tags, My Next Life as a Villainess (Anime)/(Light Novel)/(Manga), and Moriarty the Patriot (Anime)/(Manga)

The reason why a lot of authors tag all various media forms for a series is simply so the most people can see it, regardless of which medium tag they defaulted to. Especially if the mediums don't have many differences to the series.

I can understand why some series need separate tags to differentiate the medium, but in the long run (especially if the medium doesn't have many unique changes to the canon), it's various tags for the same series and since linking more than one fandom tags will equate to a crossover, trying to find an actual crossover fic is a challenge (some fandoms don't really apply since they don't have multiple tags, such as Genshin Impact and Red vs Blue).

On another point, which is mainly the character tags. This is a common issue I see from time to time, but like the crossover aspect, is a small issue compared to the pros of the site. The thing with the character tags (or relationship tags) is that writers can add them, even if the story is not focusing on them. They appear in the story, but how much focus is on that character/relationship is in the eyes of the beholder (at the whim of a writer). It's not a major issue, but one that I see from time to time when comparing/analyzing fic sites.

But if there's a plus to the character tags, it helps filter through the fandom medium tags. As it will link all the fics that have the character regardless of fandom tags.

Other Notes: unlike other sites, AO3 doesn't have direct DMs and is unable to do document uploads, but even without those two things, it's a wonderful site for fanfiction. It also allows fic downloading for offline reading (just don't do any fic reposting without author's consent, that's just rude).

In conclusion: AO3 has a lot of benefits and has a relatively friendly UI for writers and readers alike. The tag system overall is extremely well done to help narrow down your fic search. I consider it to be the best of the three. The only downside is that it's not the best when looking for crossovers and fics for specific characters, themes, or pairings can get lost among the tags. There are also many guides available on this site in regards to the many functions of AO3.

Fanfiction.net :

This one, I think, sparks a certain level of nostalgia in many of us (especially those a bit younger in age). It was one of the first fanfiction sites to be made "mainstream" (i.e. the most prevalent option when fanfiction is searched for). But it has seen better days…

Pros:

Private DMs

Document uploads

Major character tags

Main genre tags

Easy crossover functionality

Good app, easy UI.

Cons:

Annoying/Invasive ad placement

No option for warning tags

Cannot interact openly with comments

No easy pic support (if any, for inside the fic itself)

Fics can be easily reported even for small reasons

The copy and paste function is extremely broken.

Okay, once again, starting strong with the pros. Ff.net has been a site that is prevalent for older fandoms. It has a nice filter system to go by genre, characters, and ratings and the UI is quite easy to use (the more nuanced filter system also makes it easier for searching compared to AO3's more… fic tag cocktail mixing experience). The site allows for uploading word documents to upload fics (which is a double edge sword as their copy and paste function is extremely wonky and broken last I checked). It also allows for checking traffic on a fic, which I find is a very fun statistic to look at every now and then.

It also allows for private DMs within the site itself so if authors want to talk, there's no need to rely on an external DM site/application (Discord, Tumblr, Reddit, etc).

The biggest pro for FF.net is it's crossover archive (specifically when you go into a ff.net fandom archive and click on crossovers). It sorts out all the crossover fandoms by fic count and it is easy to look for a specific fandom crossover if it exists.

I think that roughly covers all the pros, now, the cons. The main issue I have with FF.net is… the ad placements.

If I could include the horrified duh duh duuuuh! Sound effect I would.

On mobile it's even worse, anyone recall the days when the ads were those odd little boxes next to the review box at the bottom of the chapter? I miss those days.

However, while the ads have been an issue, I think the biggest issue is with how content is moderated on the site and reporting works. I personally haven't had bad experiences with the site, but I've seen other authors apparently get their fics taken off the site due to reports (despite the fact the works themselves not having anything wrong). The famous RWBY reacts to RvB fic (React Watch Believe Yikes) was taken down because of copyright reasons despite the fact they clearly stated that they got permission to use the RvB transcripts in the fic (that fic is now on AO3). I haven't heard much beyond that, so do fill in what I missed if this issue had gotten worse or better over the years.

The other con for FF.net is interaction, while the site allows for private DMs, it doesn't allow public interaction with comments. Authors can still reply, but it's then taken into a private DM chain specifically between the author and the specific commenter. Perhaps it's a minor issue, but it's one that should be brought up.

And also, last I checked, the DMs are supposed to send you an email notification everytime someone DMs you, but it's been wonky for awhile and straight up broken at points.

And lastly, while the more succinct filter system is fine, it does so at the consequence of not letting additional tags be shown. So ratings and genre can be filtered, but nothing more. It doesn't help that the summary boxes are short either, so authors either have to make shorter summaries to put important warnings, or omit the warnings so the full summary can be in place. I also believe this lack of tagging is another reason why reporting fics seems to be an issue there.

In conclusion, FF.net is a fine site, it's easy to use, perfect for crossovers, allows DMs and has fun statistics. However, you should probably keep anything "explicit" pretty mild, or proceed with caution. I learned the terms lemons and limes from somewhere after all.

Wattpad:

Cracks knuckles, okay, this one. I used this one the least, but I do have some thoughts on it (Wattpad experts, feel free to add onto this if you'd like).

Pros:

Can comment on specific paragraphs

Easy picture integration

Decent chapter/book format

Decent story saving/favorite book

Okay UI

Cons:

Bad tag filters

Hard search function

Ads can be a bit annoying.

As you can see, I have an issue when it comes to filtering. Both Ao3 and FF.net have good filtering/tagging systems. While Wattpad does have a filter/tag system, I think it leaves a lot to be desired.

Okay, once again, starting with the pros. I think my favorite feature when it comes to Wattpad is the option to comment on specific paragraphs rather than just the whole chapter/story. I dunno, I find it fun as a reader (and as a writer) to see if people had specific thoughts on specific passages.

Secondly, the writer UI is decent and quite friendly once you get the hang of it. You can start a "book" and update it as you see fit. Although the way to add/update/edit an ongoing book is a bit more cumbersome than AO3 or FF.net…

Lastly, the picture integration for Wattpad is pretty nice, allowing easy insertion of images directly into the passage or on a "chapter banner" at the beginning of the chapter.

That's pretty much it for the major pros, and onto the cons. Which is surprisingly not many (as least that I've experienced), but those few in number make up for a lot in experience.

So, the cons, which is once again, the tagging. It always rolls back to that aspect/function. The tagging for Wattpad is honestly quite messy. Not only can several tags for the same thing exist, but they exist because the tags themselves (like in Tumblr) become different tags depending on how they're formatted (ex. "xreader", "x reader", "characterxreader", are three separate tags), so filtering out tags can be quite an issue. Not to mention more work on the author's part to add literally every iteration of a tag/phrase/pairing to make sure it appears where it's supposed to appear.

The other issue from what I can see rn actually is that a guest user (someone not logged into an account) cannot do manual searches on the site, at least on mobile. You can only search externally on the web, which is technically a minor issue, but an issue nonetheless.

Additionally, readers can't see all the relevant tags when browsing through stories until they click on it and see the summary. Again, a minor issue, but an issue all the same that should be brought up.

Also, from what I heard, there's supposedly paywalls on the site now. Looking into it, Wattpad does seem to have a paid subscription service. One feature of that service is "paid stories". I assume this only attributes to original works (since fanfiction will be in hot water otherwise). Additionally, the paid subscription gives access to offline downloading and site customization (for which AO3 has for free), it also says it offers options for "early access to subscribers" which I assume again is for original stories and functions like a creator's Patreon account. The subscription also allows for ad free viewing of stories.

In conclusion, Wattpad isn't nearly as chaotic as I last remember, but it still seems leagues behind the tagging and UI of AO3 and FF.net. The writer's UI for posting stories is fine and the picture integration in combination with paragraph comments is a fun feature. The fact it's asking for subscriptions for functions that the other two provide also knocks it down a peg. It's a fine site, but definitely not the most ideal for fanfiction. Especially as it seems to shift more to original stories than fanfiction. Finally, unlike AO3 and FF.net, Wattpad doesn't really have anything exclusive to its site that puts it above the rest (unless you count the comment on specific paragraphs bit).

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In conclusion: Everyone has their favorite sites for fanfiction. All of them have their pros and cons and for which one is "the best" it boils down to what you're looking for in your fanfiction stories.

Archive of Our Own: Seems to be the mainstay for newer fandoms, perfect for creating your own fic viewing experiences and filtering, allows for website customization skins, more interaction between author and readers, allows fic downloads for offline reading.

Fanfiction.Net: The home to older fandoms, good for a more casual browse, allows private DMs, perfect for looking for crossovers, just beware of the ads.

Wattpad: An okay site, interface takes a bit getting used to, but filtering is not as good as the others, ads are present but not as much as FF.net, requires subscription to remove ads and allow customization. It also seems more curated to original works than fanfics.

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And that concludes my analysis of what I consider "The Big Three" of the fanfiction world. Shall I do other sites as well? Did this help in regards to looking at sites? Experts in any of the three mentioned, do add your own notes to correct or add to any of the points I made. I primarily use AO3 so I may have missed some things for the other two.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed this surprisingly long essay. Hope you enjoyed ;)

#archive of our own #fanfiction.net #wattpad #fandom #writers #ao3 #ffnet #ff.net #wattpad fanfiction #wattpad stuff #ao3 feed #tl:dr ao3 is perfect for sorting fics of the same fandom #fanfiction.net is perfect for crossovers #wattpad isn't bad but doesn't do anything overtly unique compared to the other two #reposting because of tag issues...

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napstablookdotwav · 8 months ago

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DO THE THING READ THE HFJONE AU FIC YAYAYAYAYAYYA/NF

ITS AIRY HFJONE BUT HES THE GREEN SOUL FRLM JNDERTALE

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

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dancinginthesliverglow · 7 months ago

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I still firmly maintain the stance that reposting an author's fic (or artwork) is horrible and deserves to have your 'owning an account' privileges revoked.

It's the same principal as reposting art - the reposter gets to see all the attention, praise etc. that the stolen fic gets while the author stays in the shadows, unaware that their fic is being appreciated. Its even worse if its an small/unpopular author that doesn't get much attention.

However, a recent incident and conversation has me thinking that maybe there are other motivations? Like some fanfic platforms aren't allowed in some countries. Ao3, fnet and tumblr certainly aren't allowed in every country around the globe. So some may see reposting the fic as doing a service for those people? Which - while reposting without permission is still wrong even in this case, it does go a long way to explain why.

Also, a similar argument can be made for fanfics on ao3 that are marked as only visible to ao3 users. I've seen people struggle to get codes, or be unable to read my fics (there was one comment on a rec list and I believe it referred to one of my fics) because they don't have an ao3 account. And it's those struggles that sometimes lead to re-posting fics.

Anywho long story short, I had originally put all of my fics as 'only visible to ao3 users' because of personal reasons causing anxiety and the fact that I didn't want AI reading and copying my stories. Now, the desire for my fics to not be reposted without my awareness on different sites is stronger. So all my fics are now all visible to everyone to read on ao3, and I will be considering uploading them to wattpad and fnet.

No idea if anyone's gonna read this whole thing but I wanted to get it out there. It's 4am, I've been up 20ish hours now, I needed to type this out to see if it made sense lol.

#mine #ao3 #fnet #wattpad #thoughts about reposting fics

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hot-hellboy · 9 months ago

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Precious - A Percico Fanfic

Summary:

Growing up as an omega in a different century was really different for Nico. So when he and Percy are engaging in sex for the first time, he learns what it truly means to be valued and loved for who he is.

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3rd Person POV:

Nico had been raised on the idea that omegas sole purpose was to serve and pleasure alphas. At least, that’s what sex education for omegas was like in the ‘30s. See, Nico was taught that in order to be worth anything in society, it was his job as an omega to settle down with an alpha and to make sure all of said alpha’s needs were met-sexual or not.

But then he met Percy.

Nico’s first encounter with Percy was only a few years ago and he remembered absolutely being starstruck and infatuated with the alpha. He still was of course, and probably even more so now that they were dating, but all Nico’s instincts wanted him to do at the time were to serve and be there for Percy’s every need. He was an omega after all, that was what his life was supposed to be like, right?

But when he started dating Percy, Nico was super anxious around him. More than usual. Percy mainly brushed it off as first relationship nerves, since, well, he was Nico’s first boyfriend. But unlike a lot of alphas, Percy made sure to try and make Nico as comfortable as possible. He wanted to be Nico’s first everything, really. His first kiss, his first time, and his first real boyfriend. Percy wanted to make a good impression, and hopefully the only impression in Nico’s life. So when Nico had just been knotted by his new alpha for the first and only time in his entire existence, Nico knew it was a night he’d never forget. Their first time together was unlike Nico would have ever expected. For one thing, Percy got him off, too. Which, in sex ed, Nico was told that omega orgasms didn’t really matter and if they occurred, it was pointless. He was there for his alpha’s pleasure and his alpha’s pleasure only. His sexual enjoyment didn’t count. But Percy didn’t just make him cum once. No, he made Nico climax at least three times. The first was when he had two fingers inside the omega’s virgin hole and was rubbing his prostate mercilessly.

“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

Yeah. That’s right. Nico actually apologized after he came hard onto his stomach. Percy looked momentarily confused but only shrugged with a coolness Nico didn’t know how he managed to pull off.

“No worries, we can always clean up later.”

Of course Percy would assume Nico was talking about the mess he made on himself. He was raised in the twenty-first century after all, and sex ed was a hell of a lot different now than it was then. Percy simply thought it was normal and very much a good thing to have both people enjoying sex and therefore having both (or more) parties orgasming at some point. But Nico? Nico on the other hand was close to tears. Why wasn’t Percy angry with him?

The second time Nico climaxed was when Percy first began entering him. It was just the tip of the alpha’s cock that was in his slick drenched hole, but Nico was so receptive and sensitive that he was cumming right off the bat. He felt ashamed that he had broken pretty much the only rule for omegas during sex not once, but twice. After being fed a bunch of lies about alphas and how demanding and harsh they were, Nico half expected Percy to hurt him somehow or punish him in some way. Instead, he brushed Nico’s tears away (he was definitely crying now) and kissed his nose, telling him he was such a good boy for cumming under his touch again.

“I…I’m a good boy?”

Nico asked, utterly baffled.

“Of course you are. Gods, you’re adorable, too. Do you mind if I keep going? If not, we can stop. I understand if you’re too sensitive, Nico.”

Nico thought he could handle the compliments and the praise, but he only broke down more inside and felt all warm and fluttery. He hated it, but also loved it at the same time. Then it was the consent thing. Percy was genuinely asking him to keep sliding his big alpha cock inside of him, and how could Nico say no? Not that he ever was considering backing out of this now, but the fact Percy was understanding of his sensitivity meant the world to him.

“Keep going…Alpha.”

Nico said shyly, bringing Percy closer to him and tightening his legs around his waist.

The third time was right after Percy had knotted him and was stroking his pink little cocklet and whispering how good and perfect he was directly in Nico’s ear. He remembered cumming with a shriek as his nails scratched at Percy’s back and his hands fisting the sheets. After his third orgasm, Nico seemed to get the memo that Percy wasn’t going to be pissed at him for enjoying his own pleasure. At least, that’s what Nico hoped.

Nico remembered that alpha’s knots take a while to go down, so he and Percy were stuck in place for the time being. He didn’t mind, in fact, he really liked being so close to his alpha, especially when he was all wrapped up in his arms and protected from the world. As nice as he felt, Nico still had a nagging feeling in his gut that Percy was upset with him . He must’ve been frowning because Percy asked him what was wrong.

“Nico, are you okay? I know we can’t really move right now, but I can try to get you something if you need it-“

“I’m fine. Really, I am.”

Nico cut him off and tried for a reassuring smile, but Percy saw through it easily. He sighed, and followed it up with;

“It’s just…I feel like I didn’t make you feel good enough. Like I wasn’t being a good omega for you.”

Concern flashed across Percy’s face and he immediately started soothingly running his fingers through Nico’s soft hair while smoothing his thumb over his beautiful defined cheekbone.

“Don’t say that, sweetheart. You are good enough. You made me feel amazing, and you’re a perfect omega. Don’t forget that.”

Nico blushed furiously at being called “sweetheart” but his face darkened even more so from Percy telling him he felt amazing and how he was perfect. The problem was Nico felt like he didn’t deserve it.

“R-Really?”

He stammered.

“Really. But there were a couple times you were pretty hesitant back there, baby. I was worried I wasn’t making you feel good or that you didn’t want this, or-look. Please be honest with me and tell me if you didn’t like something I did or whatever the case may be.” Percy brow was furrowed in deep worry as he gazed down at Nico, his mesmerizing eyes clearly searching for answers. Nico would happily give his alpha answers.

“I did want it, Percy. Gods, you have no idea how much I wanted it, and you did nothing wrong, by the way. But you know when I grew up. You know the time period I lived in, and things…Things were a lot different back then. I’m sorry I was crying for a moment, but I just didn’t know how to handle being with an alpha as understanding and sweet as you.”

Nico confessed, and he felt like he was on the verge of tears all over again. Realization crept over Percy’s expression when he put the pieces together.

“What the hell did they teach you, baby?”

Percy questioned, trying to keep his voice as gentle and soft as possible. He really, really didn’t want to scare Nico off. Not now, not when he was about to get the answers he needed to understand his omega better. The words were stuck in Nico’s throat, but he began to respond anyway.

“Well, for starters, they separated the omega kids and alpha kids so that we didn’t learn about each other’s…Parts and stuff. But then when all the omegas were in a room together, they told us about our general sexual anatomy before putting a heavy importance on abstinence.”

Nico started.

“And then? What else did they tell you?”

Percy asked before reaching down and taking one of Nico’s delicate hands to hold as he laced their fingers together with his palm resting on top of Nico’s hand while the back of his hand rested on the bed. The small gesture made Nico feel better a little more warm again.

“Then the teacher told us about heat cycles and how they were a sign of an omega’s impurity and therefore we were indebted to serve alphas for the rest of our lives to make up for that impurity.”

Percy was in shock. Like, in actual shock. He should’ve been expecting that or something similar, but it didn’t stop the surprise from coming over him. The implications that omegas were inherently wrong, bad, or straight up sexually impure made his blood boil.

“That’s bullshit. You’re not impure, Nico. You’re the farthest thing from it, and you don’t have to make up for anything. You don’t have to serve me, we’re equals here. You shouldn’t feel tied to somebody just because they’re an alpha, that’s ridiculous.”

Percy said incredulously, but Nico only gave him a soft, sad smile.

“I know that now. Thanks to you, but I want to be tied to you, Percy. I want to be good for you, I want to be the good little omega who makes you feel important because you are.”

Percy stared at him.

“You’re important, too! And you deserve freedom, being tied to me isn’t right. And as much as I want you to be mine, there’s a different way to do it aside from what you’ve been conditioned into believing.”

He protested, though he hoped Nico would know his anger wasn’t directed at him, but instead the people who taught him all of this.

“Maybe I should rephrase that,”

Nico said quietly while tracing little shapes and words like “beautiful” and “love u” and hearts on Percy’s chest.

“I guess what I meant to say is that I want to be there for you, Percy. Maybe times have changed, but I still want to give you the best and only the best. Because you deserve it, you always do.”

Percy noticed that the word “give” was brought up a lot when Nico talked. He wanted to be the one to give Nico what he wanted too, but communicating that would be tricky, but Percy didn’t mind re-teaching him into a much more healthier mindset. He realized that his knot had receded and he carefully pulled out of Nico’s velvet heat, making the omega whine and try to pull him closer.

“You already give me the best. I can promise you all the honesty in the world when I say that, so how about we move forward and work on being good for each other equally? It takes two to tango, you know.”

Percy said, chuckling softly as he ruffled Nico’s hair and pulled him closer. The movement resulting in the tip of his cock rubbing against Nico’s used hole. The boy gasped quietly and held on tightly to Percy’s bicep.

“Still sensitive, sweetheart?”

Nico hid his face in the crook of Percy’s neck and nodded, his face reddening with embarrassment.

“E-Equally?”

He stuttered. Everything Percy was saying was so… Backwards. Alphas and omegas didn’t work on things “equally.” Whatever alphas said was pretty much law, and omegas were meant to obey. Betas reinforced what the alphas said and that was how things were supposed to go, but apparently Percy thought differently. Nico wasn’t sure if he could get used to it.

“Of course, we’re partners. I’m not your boss unless you’re into that, but in any other case, we work on things together as a team.”

Percy said while rubbing his hands up and down his back.

“As a team.”

Nico echoed.

“That’s right baby, as a team. Gods, you’re so precious.”

Percy kissed Nico’s cheek which had the omega purring loudly after that.

The

End.

#smut #percy x nico #hellboy #omegaverse #just reposting somewhat old fics #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on ao3

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amy-maguire · 9 months ago

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An Introduction to my main fanfiction and where you can read it.

Hello, everyone! I'm Amy and I wanted to introduce you all to some of the things I like to create. One of the shows I am interested in is My Hero Academia and around a year back I started a fan fiction I named, "Toga.. that's me."

This fanfiction is up on Archive of Our Own, Wattpad, Quotev, and now it will be uploaded here. If you would like to read the story you can search for any variation of my user name (Amy_Maguire, AmyMaguire, etc.). The fan fiction name will remain the same. The only thing I'd like to mention is that Ao3 has been giving me a lot of issues recently due to our router at my house, so I will continue to update the fanfiction on the other platforms until that gets figured out.

As for Toga.. that's me here is a brief summary before I start reuploading the chapters here (this is the summary reposted from my Wattpad):

Toga Himiko is a girl the public knows of as a psychotic individual. A bloodlust-filled girl whose purpose goes past nothing more than shedding blood for her own interests. But there is more to Toga, and that includes her love for more than just blood but individuals as well. One day, as she goes on an adventure to see Izuku and experience that love she craves nothing seems to go her way. Will Toga Himiko ever really experience real love and be seen as someone who deserves it?

Major Trigger Warnings in my work involving but not limited to:

-Gore and Violence

-Blood drinking, blood in general, knives

-Fire, description of burns

-Depictions of violence and descriptions of injury

-Abuse mentions

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy my fanfiction and other creations I may post/repost here.

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Chapter 2 on Tumblr

Chapter 3 on Tumblr

Chapter 4 on Tumblr

Chapter 5 on Tumblr

Chapter 6 on Tumblr

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here-there-everyfuckenwhere · 2 years ago

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YALL IM LITERALLY GONNA CRY RIGHT NOW

#SO AFTER I MADE MY LAST POST I WONDERED IF THE OP HAD AN AO3 ACCOUNT #AND FOR SOME REASON I MAGICALLY REMEMBERED WHAT THEIR USERNAME WAS #I SOMEHOW REMEMBERED THEIR USERBAME AND THE NAME OF THIS KINDA OBSCURE FIC EVEN THOUGH I HAVE THE WORLDS SHITTEST MEMORY FOR ACTUALLY-#USEFUL INFORMATION BUT ANYWHO-#TURNS OUT THEIR ENTIRE WATTPAD ACCOUNT GOT DELETED SO THEY REPOSTED *ALL* OF THEIR OKD WATTPAD FICS TO AO3 #I’m having a night..

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rafesangelita · 1 month ago

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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 HONEYMOON

a series by rafesangelita ©

‘honeymoon’ is a series based on the songs off of lana del rey’s ‘honeymoon’ album. all fics released in this series can be read as standalones since none of them correlate with one another. each fic has a line from each song in which it’s titled from. read each ‘warnings’ tab accordingly <3

all rights reserved. i do not allow any of my work to be copied, translated, or reposted on any third party site such as wattpad and/or ao3. violating this will result in you being blocked and restricted from my blog, along with a plagiarism submission.

this is a reuploaded series masterlist.

₊˚⊹♡ HONEYMOON

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

SUMMARY: ❝but you don’t go cause truly there’s nobody for you but me.❞ — not only did rafe catch you in a lie, he also saw jj making moves on you, and you allowing it to happen.

₊˚⊹♡ MUSIC TO WATCH BOYS TO

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

SUMMARY: ❝i like you a lot, putting on my music while i’m watching the boys.❞ — there’s no denying the attraction you and rafe share when you two meet each other. the only problem? he does business with barry, your older brother.

₊˚⊹♡ TERRENCE LOVES YOU

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

SUMMARY: ❝i lost myself and i lost you too.❞ — after a heated exchange, you leave rafe at the height of his addiction. fast forward two years later, and you have everything rafe couldn’t give you.

₊˚⊹♡ GOD KNOWS I TRIED

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

SUMMARY: ❝i feel free when i see no one, and nobody knows my name.❞ — you and rafe sneak away from an event neither of you want to be at..

₊˚⊹♡ HIGH BY THE BEACH

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

SUMMARY: ❝all i wanna do is get high by the beach.❞ — you and rafe make a small trip to your favorite smoke spot.

₊˚⊹♡ FREAK | FREAK PT.2

WORD COUNT: 3.2k | 3.0k

SUMMARY: ❝screw your anonymity, loving me is all you need to feel like i do.❞ — rafe cameron is your top donator, having been tuning into your live streams for several months now. one night of texting and spilling too much details has you and rafe running into each other at a party.

₊˚⊹♡ ART DECO

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

SUMMARY: ❝you’re so art deco, out on the floor. shining like gun metal, cold and unsure.❞ — your attempt to cut things off with rafe only fuels him to come back with a vengeance.

₊˚⊹♡ RELIGION

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: ❝when i’m down on my knees, you’re how i pray.❞ — you show rafe how much you appreciate all the hard work he’s been doing.

₊˚⊹♡ SALVATORE

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY: ❝the summer’s hot, and i’ve been waiting for you all this time.❞ — rafe finally comes back home from his two-month long family vacation, surprising you in the middle of the night.

₊˚⊹♡ THE BLACKEST DAY

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

SUMMARY: ❝i got you where i want you, you’re deader than ever, and falling for forever.❞ — a deal gone wrong leads to you and rafe being stuck in the same room together.

₊˚⊹♡ 24

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

SUMMARY: ❝there’s only 24 hours in a day, and half of those you lay awake with thoughts of murder and carnage.❞ — when you accidentally witness rafe commit a murder, he’s willing to do everything he has to do in order to make sure there’s no loose ends. even if that means tracking you down and killing you himself.

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voltstone · 1 year ago

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stagger (Wenclair One-Shot)

Enid is her one exception, so Wednesday tries. Again, and again, and again. She gets it right, asking Enid to…not a date. Eventually.

[3,276] | [Last Edit: 12/10/2022] (Full One-Shot Post)

Note: This one-shot has been reposted from my old account onto this one. If it looks familiar, that's why. (The issues with that account are why you can't see the "blocked" comments on posts, like the one I initially responded to; I was shadow-banned for...no reason? Some reason? Oh well.)

Hope you enjoy! :)

It has been decided:

Wednesday Addams would court Enid Sinclair.

On a Wednesday, no less.

Because nobody deserved Enid, and Enid was loyal to heart so, logically, if Wednesday courted her, no other would have the chance. There would not be another Ajax. No more forgotten dates, nor absent mental function. Nor, potentially, any acts of sabotage. Wednesday still kept the rope and pulleys in her desk for just in case. Regardless, this had been decided, and all there needed to be done was the courtship itself—something that was more of a work in progress than Wednesday liked to admit.

She now stood at the courtyard’s rim, watching a grotesque sea of midnight violets and stripes. Amongst them, however, was life, was spirit. Wednesday's luna dorada…

Enid was crafted by her blue moon eyes—more than her haunting blonde, splashed by berry shades—, for they were piercing, and they carried more than the Wednesday’s dead-weighted stare. They had a way of striking every insult to dust, and a way of worming beneath her gaunt complexion. Or, when they would drown, the blue to her eyes were what Wednesday sought to mend. Every time. Without fail.

And they drowned after Ajax.

And every subsequent boy.

Then girl. There was a girl too, but that didn’t last. None of them did, but she certainly didn’t.

…Enid was particularly upset with that one. Only now did Wednesday begin to begrudgingly admit that, perhaps, being the reason why a student jumped from academy to mental institution like a tick should’ve weighed heavier on her conscious. Begrudgingly, though. Wednesday still couldn’t find hers, so she borrowed Enid’s conscious, and as it turned out, that whole…incident weighed like an anvil.

It took a moment for Wednesday to realize she had been reflecting for much too long. She hadn’t moved from the pillar. And with a bark of laughter from the midnight sea, her attention snapped.

Blue moon found the ink of her eyes. Enid beamed at Wednesday, dared to spite what scars slashed her face, from across the tables.

A threat. (Enid merely smiled.) What sick behavior. (Sure, Wednesday.) She was going to vomit. (From the stress.) From the agony. (…no.)

There was a blink. Her heart urged ejection—orally.

So.

Wednesday flipped her off.

It was an honest reflex.

…

This exchange would be the one. A swift, passing moment between classes, with Enid skipping her way to interspecies biology, and Wednesday, cryptic humanities, at a stroll. Five minutes at most. The corridor they used was…occupied, as it usually was, though far from the bustling wing it would devolve to at other hours.

As usual, they stopped before the odd display case—to commemorate the school’s history of its students on milk cartons.

“Enid.”

Her smile grew in ways Wednesday would never understand, yet would come to…notice. Often. As fleeting, busy thoughts. They were often gnats. Never to leave until Wednesday paid them their due time. This particular smile dug into Enid’s cheeks, and it was a toothy one, with sly eyes, and a chin leaned towards her shoulder. (It would be one to ponder on for a while. Before bed, namely.) “…Wednesday?" Enid humored, "You’ve been a little mean today, you know.”

“It is my day,” Wednesday muttered.

She also noticed that Enid did grow a few inches after all. Her eyes flecked along Enid’s pinstriped, midnight uniform and concluded that, yes, her skirt looked a little shorter than it had before. "Do you…have something to say?“

Wednesday crept her stare back to Enid’s blue moon. There’s a pause, then Enid pressed, from the corner of her mouth, ”Or…ask?“

A blink. She swallowed down a sludge of webbed thoughts. "Enid. I…" That skirt needed to be longer. Since when did Enid grow? Over break, surely. Behind Wednesday’s back, no doubt. "I think that…" It hardly mattered. Wednesday was asking— Wednesday was courting Enid, and she— "Would— Would…you…” She didn’t. Know. Where?! “To the—" Where would she court Enid? A funeral? "Go to…” No, she couldn’t.

“Wednesday…?”

Why did she not check the obituary this week?! This morning, for the—

Her eyes snapped to Enid. And she blinked. Twice this time. “What?”

Enid’s sly eyes had a mild twitch to them. Which was…new. Almost. She didn’t do that with Wednesday often. The last time was before their occasion at the last fair. And before that had been the night where they danced as one, at the masquerade—music to harmonize, words left unsaid. (It was a favorite moment.) “Do you want to go to town together?” A question, like the couple times before. Enid toyed with her hands, then added, quietly, “And we can go to that creepy antique store you like?”

“With the roadkill?”

“Yeah.”

Wednesday did like that store. "Yes. That would be…worthwhile.“

"…and then ice cream?”

She fought a grimace. Stamped it down. “The one that smells desperate for attention?”

“Uh, yeah, that one,” Enid said. Her eyes watched Wednesday, as full as ever.

“Okay.” Wednesday nodded, though it was slow, and it was cautious. Enid had a way of writhing guilt to her chest as heartworm.

(She also had a way of patience:) “They have the vanilla you like.”

“Yes, then.”

Wednesday spoke the route to Enid’s apparent gaiety. “Okay!" she near-squealed, her hands clasped together. Before Wednesday found them latched on either shoulder. That gaiety, as it bloomed full in her eyes, threatened to chip the color from her nails and into the black of Wednesday’s uniform. "So after class then!”

She found she didn’t mind it. Enid could leave her sediment of color all she liked, so long as she kept her eyes from drowning. “Fine,” Wednesday said, with an added, “Don’t bother me until the hour.”

Enid’s nodding was frantic. The twitch in her eye skewed the smile in her cheek.

Wednesday meandered around Enid with a thick mouth, and a heavy mind. She didn’t court her. Forgot to know what, exactly, the courting would be in the first place. How that blunder managed to come to fruition, she didn’t know. But Wednesday did know that it needed to be rectified. Near-immediately. Before their excursion to town, if she could help it—

“YES. FINALLY. JESUS CHRIST!"

She wasn’t ten strides away, and already, Enid bothered her before the hour. Bothered, or rather startled her.

Wednesday craned her eyes to Enid. Enid, who, stood frigid, eyes round and face strained to another wide, toothy smile. This one curled her scars into an awkward, bent geometry. With a swallow, she explained, "…th-this is, um, our first time shopping together. Alone.”

A long, sharp exhale forced what stammer in Wednesday’s heart that shouldn’t have been, though Enid always managed, somehow. She stared for a good moment. Then: “We can stop by the funeral home, Enid. I know how to obtain a discount for a casket your size.”

Enid gulped sheepishly.

(Nothing she ever did was particularly wolfish, now that Wednesday realized.)

…

Wednesday, against her better judgement, sat herself at her desk, in her chair. Her eyes bore through Thing’s palm as he drabbled a meandering, smug tune. [You look chipper.]

“I’ll throw you in one. Quit with the shit-eating, you don’t even have a mouth.”

Thing rolled himself into a fist, exasperated. (He really should have expected this.) Then, he flopped, and waved, and signed: [Okay. Fine. But you do look…very schoolgirl.] Wednesday stared. [Without the dimples.] She frowned. [Or the giggling.]

“Don’t flatter me.”

[I know what a schoolgirl who needs advice looks like.] Thing jabbed his thumb to Enid’s blaring side of the room.

She didn’t follow his gesture. There was no need. She heard such schoolgirl who needed advice on a daily basis. But, given that, Wednesday finally relented. Because as much as this was against her better judgement, her better judgement was floundering or flipping Enid off—panicking, in other words, as she figured the mere hour before. So, she relented, and grumbled, “…it’s about her, actually.” She didn’t look at Thing. Not as he swayed his self-satisfaction, the filthy romantic. “I have decided that no one is good for Enid, and if I am to kill anyone who has done wrong by her, I might as well be by her side too.”

She glanced at him. Rocked her jaw. Blinked. Then stared into his favorite stitch. “I don’t know how to court her.”

[I knew it.]

“Doesn’t matter.”

[Don’t be like that.]

Wednesday gnawed the inside of her cheek in stewed silence. She hated it whenever Thing did that—chastised her. He was a hand. She wasn’t a child.

The moment between them throbbed a familiar strain, where the hand talked back, and Wednesday was left to configure whether or not she missed something. Which happened. A lot. Particularly with Enid and whatever bout of emotions had twisted to obscurity. Anger often was blurred with frustration, and guilt did the same. Enid was explosive, that way. Had Wednesday start to suspect that anger wasn’t an emotion at all, but rather an armor set…

She watched Thing expectantly. He drummed nonsense, then asked, [What have you done so far? ]

…that was not a good question to answer.

Wednesday stalled. Avoided him entirely.

Unfortunately for her, Thing’s drumming turned morse:

[…W E D N E S D A Y.]

She scowled. “You know I hate it when you do that,” she muttered.

Thing, once her eyes flecked back to him, beneath her desk lamp, signed, [Then look at me.] A nail leaned from the light, towards Enid’s half. [How can I help if you do not look? ]

Wednesday sat with herself for a second that felt too long. If every two shoulders were birthed with an angel and a demon on either side, Wednesday was born with only the latter, until the former spawned far too late. And that angel was Enid, and she very much wanted to flick the damn thing off.

Because this moment felt like it should be an apology. For…something. Being too calloused, or, in Enid’s words, a stone-cold bitch.

Exhaled, Wednesday begrudgingly appeased the worst part of herself: “…sorry.” She might as well have molted off her tongue. From her peripheral, however, Thing fluttered in the lamplight. He was happy about it, at least.

“Now just tell me what to do.”

Surprise teemed from his skin. [How bad were you?! ]

“Thing.”

He paused, heard the something in her voice which Wednesday didn’t know to swallow down, then signed, methodically, [Swoon then kiss her.]

Wednesday leaned forward, brows strewn together. She must have popped a vessel. “What?”

[Swoon. Then kiss her.]

She didn’t. Apparently.

[Don’t you want to court her? ] Thing continued, if tentative. Slowly, Wednesday nodded. [And…kiss her? ] Another question… [Hold hands? ] And another question… […pet names? ] And another which she couldn’t answer. Not really. They weren’t good ones, anyway.

Regardless, Wednesday managed the only semblance of one she could: “I’m not my parents, Thing." There was a consideration. "Nor Enid for the matter. I told you. I want to court her, and then kill— Dissuade anybody who tries to hurt her.”

Thing slumped, and Wednesday could practically see the disappointment pale in his fingertips. [You’re not killing Ajax.]

“I amended what I said.”

[You’re also not buying a mirror.]

Wednesday bit her inner-cheek—hoped for blood.

[Or azaleas. Or larkspurs.]

“…fine," she grated, with a gaze swept across her drawers. "And don’t steal my grocery lists.”

Thing took that as the best he would get. (It was.) He drummed again, then waved for her attention. Wednesday read closely:

[You are not romantic. I get that.

[But if you want to court her, you have to meet in the middle.

[Do something Enid would like.]

She hesitated, then leaned into the back of her seat. Something Enid would like… There were many things, too many which Wednesday didn’t know if she could stomach. She would have to, of course. Courtships were, after all, matters of covenant. A pact. A promise. Through life. Beyond death.

If only she knew what about her appeased Enid.

(The answer was everything, really. Enid’s far from picky when it came to Wednesday.)

…

Wednesday admired the roadkill. Enid looked green, though she still managed a smile or two.

They bought one wearing an astronaut’s suit.

(Enid said something about ink being her whole world. Blue moon looked far from drowning as she did.)

Then, Enid got herself a harrowing display of color vomited on a cone. With sprinkles.

She brought Wednesday her vanilla. It tasted plain. It was savored.

Throughout it all, Wednesday rummaged for their courtship. Because eyes stalked Enid. Eyes not her own.

…

“You finished the ice cream.”

They decided to walk back to the academy. Enid figured that it’d do her good to burn off the ice cream (despite the Lycan’s metabolism being the gift from the gods), and Wednesday liked to roam in the biting chill. It didn’t threaten rain, unfortunately, though the wind mused about a night of hail. That almost brought a smile to Wednesday’s face. Almost. It brought a clipped scowl to Enid’s.

“I did,” she answered, after a moment.

Wednesday felt her eyes wander to her—across her profile, down her braids. “And you’ve been…thinking this whole time,” Enid remarked, her voice awfully intimate. It got that way frequently, as of late.

Her dead-weighted stare matched the tempo to their strides, darted along each splash of color to Enid’s autumn wear. Wednesday decided those awfully intimate words felt warmer than the scarf around her neck. And that warmth was…lively. The same kind that adorned a casket before burial, as a bouquet of leaves and flowers, color and white. It was acceptable. A homely embrace.

“Yes.” Wednesday looked forward—watched for the bend down the road. Her admission stirred from her lips, quietly: “About you.”

Enid smiled, and that smile lingered as she remarked, “I mean I would hope so.” A laugh. Kind to the ears. “It’d be honestly so tragic if you weren’t.”

Wednesday merely hummed. An itch, then, plagued itself. There was no swallowing it. So she noted, “People looked at you.”

“I…” Enid sounded softer. Not like leaves and flowers, though, nor color and white. Like a lamb. Before headlights. “They…did?”

Together, they stopped dead.

As Enid reached for her scars, brushed down their lines by her fingertips, Wednesday said, “You’re a pink mess. And you're…giddy.” Amongst other things, of course. Enid was far from sore on the eyes. She was a bundle of energy, yet swift of mind, all at once. “Of course they did.” Wednesday frowned, however. For the look in Enid’s eyes looked close to drowning—though rather than to a hurricane, a still, frigid blanket. “Enid?”

She snapped back, and her eyes found Wednesday’s. "It’s nothing. Just checking my make-up.“

Neither moved. Stuck in place, locked in the passing minute.

"They’re only scars, I’ve told you,” Wednesday murmured.

“I know." She heard Enid’s armor—that non-emotion—synch in place. "But they’re still on my face, Wednesday!" she hissed. "People see these first. And when I meet new people, they’re not going to remember me as Enid, they’re just going to see a girl who probably got mauled by a stupid bear.”

This felt like another moment. Not an apology, though, no.

Yet Wednesday was twinged by the same hesitance. And that hesitance had a name, and it was one she bitterly knew well: remorse. An ugly thing.

She would mend it. Fix the guilt from Enid’s face. Keep those drowned eyes from leaking into those lines.

“I’ll give them matching ones.”

“No.”

“They can have their own to look in the mirror.”

“Wednesday, no."

She had to. Because those lines were tallies, and those tallies marked each failure. Each snide retort. The window. The taped border.

And that damn. Fucking. Manor.

…that scar, Wednesday imagined, was the deepest one. Rather than a ravine, a gorge.

"I do know some bears,” Wednesday said, almost desperate. “They would do it.”

“No!" The desperation wasn’t for naught. Because Enid’s smile bled to her voice, and Wednesday felt as though, perhaps, the gorge was an increment closer to being another ravine, then, someday, a mere trench.

Her blue moon eyes grew bright. Wednesday felt her webbed thoughts sludge again. They were thick to swallow, though she let strands coat her words: "Enid. When I look at your face, I don’t think of your scars first.”

Wednesday felt herself tip towards asphyxiation. The moment twitched. Her throat tightened.

Enid watched her. “Then…how do you think of it?” she asked, as quiet as ever. Their eyes met.

As they did, Wednesday knew one thing:

Nobody was worth Enid’s affection. Herself least of all.

Those scars would never truly heal, nor the ravines beneath her eyes, beneath her words. Wednesday did, however, want to heal. Somehow. She didn’t know how. The urge was a shadow cloaked behind her. It was mute. It didn’t say anything. But, Wednesday felt it, somewhere. And it was different from what had her tear a chest open and gut, or curl an erratic melody. Perhaps she could learn how to mend blindly, though. To reach into those eyes, and those words, and pull Enid to safety.

And she did just that. Ink clothed Enid’s blue moon, stared deep for her words. Her skin flushed beneath Wednesday’s hand. But, Enid didn’t break away. Neither did.

So Wednesday reigned her close. She heard Enid’s breath hitch, and she felt her anxiety coil to her palm.

The kiss felt like lips.

(It burned, and seared, as a prickle down Enid’s spine.)

Once broken apart, Wednesday watched her. It was…a nice thing. Better than she expected. Less than the hurricane she just subjected Enid to, but more than a mere graze of skin. Maybe. It sounded right, for the moment. Her lurking shadow fidgeted, anyway, so it had to have been.

Wednesday swallowed down a chill. Savored it, for Enid felt like vanilla. Her jaw itched to speak, and—

Wait. Oh no.

She still couldn’t think of anything.

And— And oh no her lips were actually buzzing. Slightly. Like she just kissed a bee.

“U-Uh, Wednesday…?”

“Shut up.” That lurking shadow winced. This wasn’t going well. Wednesday didn’t mean that, so to clarify, she muttered, “I’m thinking.”

“…you could just—”

“Shut up. I’m thinking.” Thinking and forgetting. Wednesday couldn’t scrounge what she thought to ask. (This, she assumed, was why Thing told her to swoon and then kiss. Enid’s mouth didn’t even feel like much, but it was still biting her on the ass. Figuratively.)

Wednesday glanced, and she caught a smug, growing smile. “Enid.”

“Yeah…?” Enid purred.

She opened her mouth, figured an insult wouldn’t help matters, and closed it. Wednesday rifled through every idea she could flounder. “Tomorrow night.” That was a start. “Grave-robbing. I have…a kit for two.” A very, very good idea. Except— Wait no. Enid looked perturbed. “I know— I know where every colonizer was buried in the town. We could…sell everything to the antique…store…”

“…grave-robbing. …okay.”

“Yes.” Wednesday, unfortunately, then found what she should’ve thought of before. So: “And…p-picnic.”

Enid brightens. There’s a nod, followed by a swift peck to Wednesday’s cheek. “It’s a date then.”

Wednesday felt her throat gravel noise. Then, she felt clockwork turn behind her ears. The hour struck, and her gut squirmed. “Was this a date?” She stared. Enid’s blue moon eyes stagnated. “Enid.” They darted. “Enid, answer me.”

“…n-no?”

“Enid. How— How many have we had?”

“U-Uh…” Enid’s grin was, of course, sheepish. “…seven?”

Hope you enjoyed! :)

#volt's library #wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #wednesday show #fanfiction #ao3 #wattpad #aromantic #aro!wednedsay #wenclair #she's trying #first kiss #confessions (kinda)#reposted from last account #if this looks familiar it's because i yoinked it from my last (dead) account

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butch-bakugo · 2 years ago

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Ik i have to put my fanfiction on ao3 if i want litterally anyone to look at it but why why why cant there be a more popular site that DOSENT constantly have and encourage cp, racism and gross shit?? I just wanna describe my oc railing someone, not your weird quadriplegic shit.

#levi speaks #ao3 my belothed #its fucking disgusting #and i perfer to put my shit on wattpad #and ill probably end up reposting some stuff to tumblr just under cuts #but fuck man do i fucking HATE how bad pro shipping is in 2 of my fave fandoms #like please leave the super hero children and skeletons alone #id rathur mcfucking die then have to unlock the achievement that i posted fanfic to ao3 #ill stick with wattpad thx

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twinklelilstarkey · 3 months ago

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Tutor: Unveil

Words: 9k+ Summary: Here comes another party organized by Rose, meaning you cannot have your parents near people who threaten your peace. You can't even go to the bathroom, for goodness sake! Warnings: Female!Reader. Mentions of secret relationships and hiding things from friends and family (and finally, their consequences). SMUT (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Very quick, literally a quickie, because I am so rusty at smut now. It will include some rough manhandling and clawing at the skin, but nothing too bad). Insults. Slut shaming. A/N.: I'm back!! Please know that I want to keep writing, I really do. But my professors absolutely hate me, because I have so much to do. This is like no other semester. Hope you enjoy this!

Tutor Masterlist

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

With your hands constantly smoothing down your silk dress, you can’t take your eyes off your reflection. You have touched up your make-up maybe three times since you’ve ‘finished’ getting ready and adjusted the more than adjusted dress for the, hopefully, last time.

You have no idea what it is. You feel weird. You feel nervous. Or maybe just anxious. There is something about going to a party with your parents after everything that has happened that makes you want to crawl into bed and only come out when everything has already happened.

Another sole reason your blood pressure has been sky high lately has to do with the conversation you’ve had with your mother in the car about planning something with ‘the girls’. For the last few days, she always remembered it at the worst moments. You have always found a good enough reason for her to not reach out to Kristy or her mother for said plans, but you’re not so sure that today will be possible to do it, given that they will see each other in person. Your mom and her mom have always been friendly to each other and have always liked each other’s company. They will surely plan something like an evening altogether. That is, of course, if her mother hasn’t heard anything about you yet. She too has never been too enthusiastic with Cameron & Co.

A knock on your bedroom door makes you look over your shoulder, and your father walks in. He gives you a sweet smile once he sees you by the mirror and holds his hand in your direction.

“Got to go. Mom is getting impatient.” He says while you take his hand.

You grab your purse on your way out of the bedroom, reaching for it at the last second as you can already hear your mother pacing around the house. You check the time before reaching her, making sure you are not the reason why she is like that, but, as expected, the scheduled time isn't for another 20 minutes. Therefore, you will get there before everyone else.

Your mother is still pacing when you reach her. She has a cream-colored dress, make-up, and hair done with way too much precision, but the look on her face would be enough to make you run to a mirror again.

“Finally!” she says, waving her arms in the air with a sigh.

Her eyes make sure to look you up and down, and her lack of criticism almost makes you cheer out loud. You know you won’t get a compliment with her bubbling with so much stress, so the fact that she has nothing bad to say about you is enough to let out a breath.

After your mother does her last walk around the house to make sure everything is in her purse and everything is locked, you all start to walk out to get into the car. You reach for your phone when you take your seat at the back of the car, and your father begins to back out of the driveway. The car is in complete silence, just as it usually is.

Now that you are officially done with classes, the graduation ceremony is just days away. Meaning, that not only will you soon be far, far away from certain people without school forcing you to be in their presence, but you also have been bombarded with texts from Patty and Topper, who have shared with you all sorts of ideas for the parties that they will be attending. All those texts are in the weird group chat that you have been added to, but Rafe, much to his confusion, was not.

You smile down at some of the messages and make sure to not leave them on read for too long before answering them quickly. These moments of calmness and smiles don't last too long, given that you get a message from Kristy, making you put down your phone to hopefully not let it mess up with your mood again. But, yet again, you were too late.

The trip to the location of the party is a little over 15 minutes, and you try not to pay any mind to any anxious thoughts after that. Because, maybe, just maybe, there is nothing to worry about. Nothing to be scared of, and no reason to want to lock your parents in a room for the entirety of the night.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. You got this under control.

After some time, and a little traffic, the car finally comes to a stop. Your dad helps you out of the car, and as soon as you all stand outside, you can tell that you were some of the firsts to get there. There are almost no cars in the parking lot, and that would be with counting the workers’ cars too.

Before you can even walk all the way to the front door of the building, Rose has already pushed the door open and smiled to greet you. Rose and your mother exchange the classic two kisses on their cheeks – or better, the air close to their cheeks. A handshake with your father. Yet when she reaches you, she pulls you into a hug. Your mother didn’t seem to be able to look away.

“I am so happy that you could make it,” Rose says to you when you two pull away from the hug. “Seriously, it was so hard making all these teenagers want to go to an event with their families.” She turns to your mother to include her in the conversation with a quick roll of her eyes, but she simply smiles dryly at her. “Anything that just doesn’t include alcohol makes everyone want to stay home, these days.”

“Oh,” your mom exclaims, surprised. “Yes, that is true. Youth, these days. But I do not believe that it would be my little girl’s” and, while still talking, she puts her arm around you in a side hug that is so out of character that it feels nearly comical, “style to do anything like that. These types of events are so much better.”

You offer her a small smile in return, and Rose doesn’t seem to notice how tense everything just seemed to get.

The two women begin a conversation in front of you not too long after. They talk about how good you did in your finals and even how Wheezie was so good in hers. All due to your hard work, of course. They talked and talked, and your mother’s arm did, eventually, come down back to her side. You walk over to stand by your dad as they continue their discussion, all while everyone still stands by the door.

“Is your whole family here, already?” Your mother asks her, making your ears perk up.

“Except for Ward, yes. He had to leave to get something at home. But the kids are all here. Well, except for Rafe, of course,” she chuckles dryly, “He’ll get here in his own time.” Rose says with a shrug before turning back to you and offering you a smile, “And I do believe some of your friends from school have gotten here as well.”

Great.

You fake a smile of excitement, and Rose takes that as her ticket to take you all inside the building. The warm breeze from outside is quickly substituted by the cold AC as soon as you get in, and, only after a few hallways, do you step into the massive room of tonight’s event. One with a tall ceiling and a wall made of windows, all of them facing the sea not too far from the building’s garden in the back. One of the windows is open and some people stand outside, some of them smoking, while others just enjoy the view while talking.

Even so, the room is quite empty. The ones inside stand on the sides and corners of the room, but, due to its size, the room feels empty still.

Your eyes scan the room, looking at each person carefully, trying to see how much damage could be made in the first few minutes already.

A little polite conversation later, Rose steps away with a soft ‘talk to you later’. Having looked around enough, relief washes over you when you notice that the friends that she had mentioned had only been one of the girls and some somewhat known faces from school. Nothing like Kristy, or the rest of the group. You know they won't do a thing when alone, that is, of course, if they aren't Kristy.

Your parents walk over to the table with the drinks, and you follow them, only listening to their conversations to keep you entertained.

The room is indeed fabulously decorated. The walls are decorated with amazing and grand pieces of art. Certainly replicas of sorts, expensive looking, nonetheless. Rose, as she tends to do, filled the room with all sorts of flowers and large tables with white tablecloths and glass dishware. At some tables, there are all sorts of mocktails, juices, and fancy herbal and fruitful waters. Other tables have food with all sorts of snacks, which the younger family members seem to have no shame in already having their fill.

You can see the people out in the garden from the drinks table. You can see Wheezie out with her friends, as well as Sarah being annoyed by Topper, who is beginning to be pulled away by one of her friends. They all are dressed formally. Wheezie in soft pink and Sarah in yellow. You look over to check on Rose which is in a light purple. What kind of color would they make Rafe wear?

You smile down at your own thoughts and hide it by looking around, purposefully ignoring a stare from a family that you do not want to interact with – the only girl and her parents, who might as well just call you a devil from where they stand in the room, given the distaste in their faces.

By the time an hour passes, you notice how slowly time goes by. You sure are in for a night.

(…)

It has been three hours, and you've finally decided that you need to walk away from your parents. You have shaken so many hands of coworkers and possible business partners of both your parents, that your mind has begun to blur their faces into one ever since you’ve met the seventh person. Their conversations have been about business and sales, and you swear that if you hear any sort of vocabulary from their field again, you will begin to rip your hair out in chunks.

So, a walk it is.

Your heels click on the tiled floors as you look for a bathroom. No one is in the hallways, most people just stay in the main room or the outside, where younger socialization is seemingly kept. None which you’ll be able to make today, for the looks of it.

You have thought about talking to someone other than your parents, but the possibility of it upsetting them, given your new crowd, always made you take a step back. There aren’t many people you could speak to. Rafe’s friends, who have naturally become yours too, have all gotten here in the last hour. Most who noticed gave you a simple wave, which you could only nod to because you knew you couldn’t be caught waving at Topper Thorthon by your own mother. You might as well just walk right back into the room nude, and you’ll get the same reaction - in other words, complete horror. Patty, on the other hand, had walked over to you to greet you as she normally would, with a hug, and that sparked the curiosity of your mother a bit too much. That is, of course, because she has no idea who she is.

Other sorts of company, also known as your past best friends, have also gotten here, and each time you notice them walking in the room, you would simply spark a conversation with your parents so they wouldn’t look at the newcomer. But you know it, you’re running out of things to talk about. Especially since some of the girls haven’t gone outside and are still standing by their parents, talking amongst themselves. One is easy to hide from your parents, but a group, not so much. The idea of them already talking to them is making chills run down your spine.

Truly, the only thing keeping you sane is the fact that Kristy hasn't arrived. Therefore, there is nothing that can truly hurt you while she isn't here... right?

You walk through the hallways, letting out a sigh, still looking for a more distant bathroom that doesn’t have a line of women you could possibly very well know at the door.

After looking at many lines, you decide to try upstairs instead, because, realistically, you will need at least five minutes of silence in that room to get back into the right mentality to handle the rest of the night, and you will not be able to do that with a group of women ready to break down a door and run in to pee.

You begin to walk towards the front of the building, where you spot even more people who have begun to arrive at the party and are following Rose as she continues to be her pleasant self to her guests. You spot the two big staircases at the front, and you grab onto the railing before beginning to go up.

Suddenly, a whistle echoes down the hallways and up your staircase and you freeze.

“The party is down here, miss.” The voice says.

If only you hadn’t recognized it, you would’ve actually listened to the observation and made your way down the staircase, hiding your embarrassment and complete horror of being caught. But the fact that you did recognize it only made you want to throw a shoe at your boyfriend for scaring you the way he did.

“What am I, a dog, for you to be whistling at?” You say while turning around to face him, while he stands by the front door, meters away from you and down a few steps.

Rafe tilts his head up at you, and you know the comment is eating at him. You're teasing him. You smile as you see him peek into the hallway Rose disappeared into, and you can’t help but let out a shriek when he starts running up the steps to grab you.

Rose must already be on her way back to the door to welcome the new family coming inside, and you have her stepson ready to tackle you to the ground, so you have double the motivation to grab onto your dress and the railing and try to get away from your man.

You laugh your way up the stairs, but you don’t even get to the last step before he’s able to grab onto you. Now, do you think it was a fair fight? With you in heels and a long dress? Absolutely not, and you make sure to let him know that as he casually puts you over his shoulder and gets you both off the stairs - all while basically making you think you’re going to die for being upside down on the last step. You have screamed twice since he's gotten here. Rose would kill you if she knew.

“Please put me down.” You say, defeated and seriously out of breath from both running and laughing.

You know that Rose must have heard the both of you, you just hope she doesn’t know it is you who was just laughing hysterically. You’re sure she heard the damned loud whistle and rolled her eyes to the back of her head in response, knowing very well whose it was – the only son that is almost 4 hours late to a party his own family is organizing. And now that same man is kidnapping a girl into the upper floor, how nice. You wouldn't blame her if she stopped inviting him. Not at all.

Halfway through a hallway and during your millionth plea, Rafe finally puts you down, making your hair fall in all sorts of directions over your face, getting a genuine laugh out of him. Your hands begin to try and smooth down the strands back into their original place, but Rafe continues to smile down at you.

“Don’t you look beautiful today, baby?” He says in a dramatic tone, making your hands stop working through your mess of hair and giving him a glare, which in his eyes seems more like a pout.

Taking pity on you, Rafe helps you with your hair to the best of his ability, and you begin to look around for a bathroom.

Leaving Rafe behind and knowing fully well that he will follow you without hesitation, you walk over to a door that, thankfully, is unlocked, and the room is empty. Rafe walks in with you, and you only let out a breath when you hear close the door behind him.

Rafe watches you through the reflection as you fix your hair further and then check on your makeup. It takes quite a few moments of silence before you turn and lean back on the counter. With your back to the mirror, and the temperature of the cold stone going through the fabric of your dress, Rafe steps in front of you, and the warmth of his hands on your hips adds a nice contrast.

You look up at him, analyzing his face, but you notice how he leans in for a kiss, making you turn your head at the last second, forcing him to lay a kiss on the corner of your mouth instead.

“I have lipstick on.” You whisper at him, “Don’t you dare ruin it.”

“I would never.” He whispers back but kisses your cheek again instead and then continues to go down your jaw, neck, and then shoulder.

You fight the urge to close your eyes to the feeling of his lips and look at him while he moves, you haven’t taken a good look at him yet. He looks good, like he always does, in a dark blue suit with no tie and a pristine white dress shirt underneath, his hand has his usual gold ring, and his buzzcut looks just made.

“We’re matching.” You tell him, a smile more than evident in your voice, making him raise his head up to look at you. “Why blue?”

“Ask Sarah, she was the one that chose my suit.” He says, creating a slightly bigger distance between your faces.

You lay your hands over his shoulders, but they eventually find their way to his cheeks. Your thumbs caress his skin, and he continues to stare down at your face.

“You look really handsome tonight.” You whisper to him again.

“I do?” He asks, and you nod, making him lean into you again, threatening to ruin your lipstick yet again.

“And incredibly needy too.”

Even Rafe couldn’t hold in his chuckle at your observation.

“Someone ignored my texts for-”

“We texted this morning, Rafe!” You say a little louder this time, with a smile that almost made Rafe’s heart jump out of his chest. “Since when did you become such a sappy boyfriend?”

Rafe did not even have to say a single word, the expression on his face of complete repulse for your choice of adjective is enough to make you smile widely at him. He sends you a glare as a response which only makes you laugh harder. Your hands come down to his shoulders again, and you give him a kiss on his cheek before leaning away from the counter.

“I have to go back down soon.” You tell him.

Rafe leans in closer to you, his hands forcing your body glued to his, making you lose all idea of cold from before. You are warm all over. “Why?”

“My parents are here, can’t have them talk to a certain someone just yet.”

Rafe doesn’t answer out loud, he just continues to look through your face, deep in thought. You watch him as he does it, memorizing every inch of his skin in return. Rafe had noticed your mood while watching you walk the hallway downstairs. You are deep in thought and visibly buzzing with anxiety. Knowing now that the root of all your problems is just a floor down from yours, makes a lot more sense than whatever he had thought of.

“They’re here?” You only nod, kissing his jaw and pulling back to look him in the eyes, “Have they said anything?”

“Not a single thing, only stared for a while.” Rafe pulls you impossibly closer to him, and you let him. “They might already be doing it right now.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I was driving myself insane. Had to talk to way too many people, and I can’t even remember a single name.” Rafe grins at your words, but you sigh before continuing, “I want to go home already.”

“But the party just started.”

You roll your eyes at him and his audacity, and he smiles down at you. Your lips crack a small grin too, and you feel one of his warm hands move from your back to your hip, squeezing it through the thin fabric and holding onto you tightly. Your entire body sizzles at his touch, and you lean closer, completely forgetting your own promise to not smudge your lipstick.

“We shouldn’t.” You whisper against his mouth.

“We really shouldn’t,” Rafe emphasizes with a shake of his head and a big smile, but that is just before he closes the gap between the two of you. Your lips touch, and your hands smooth over to his head, smoothing over his short hair.

Rafe lifts you up to the counter and pulls your dress upwards to your waist to help him stand between your legs with the slit of the fabric. You sigh against his lips at his touch over your smooth thighs, and, under the dress, Rafe grips onto your skin and pulls you directly into his hips, making you moan against his mouth.

His hands look for a certain piece of fabric, your panties, under your dress as he pulls you against him, but all he feels is skin. He brings his hand up and grips your face with the same force as he did your hips, thumb digging into your cheek as he held your jaw.

He pulls you back, noticing just a slight smudge of your lipstick, and you smile maliciously at him, knowing exactly why he’s behaving the way he is. He lets out a dry laugh, not finding any sort of humor like you did, and kisses you a single time before whispering directly into your lips, “You’re such a—”

“Panty lines, Rafe, panty lines!” You interrupt him without being able to contain your smile.

Your lips melt into a kiss again, more aggressive this time due to Rafe’s discovery, and you can’t help but continue to smile into the kiss, moving your shoulders until you feel the dress’ strap slide down your skin. Rafe’s hands slide from your jaw to your neck, and your hands slide down his torso all the way to his belt, currently almost glued to you too because of how tightly Rafe holds you to him.

You pull his belt to get him closer to you and finally pull at the buckle to undo it. Rafe’s hands let you go for a second, he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, only separating your lips for those seconds and coming back to you.

You finish undoing his belt and move onto the button and zipper, while Rafe’s hands move back to hold your hips. Rafe groans against your mouth, and you grab onto his boxers, dragging your nail over the elastic band. You smile at the way he responds, pulling you roughly towards him and grabbing onto your skin as if it’s his lifeline.

Your hands pull his clothing down, and Rafe is quick to lift a hand and push yours away from him. Your lips don’t separate through it all, and Rafe brings his hand in between your legs. His touch immediately rips a reaction out of you, making you moan louder against his lips while your back stretches with pleasure.

Rafe’s fingers drag from your clit to your entrance, not ever stimulating you on purpose, just moving so, so slow that you consider biting him in response. You turn your head to break the kiss, and Rafe just continues kissing down your jaw and neck, as if unphased. Your breathing is heavy, and your heart is beginning to seem to want to beat out of your chest, but your lips are only able to whisper a single plea, “Rafe, please, we have to be quick.”

“Please, what?” He teases like he always does.

You groan, naturally, and he smiles, “Please, Rafe, just fuck me”

In response to your words, Rafe did not hold back. He glues back your lips to his, and the finger over your clit pulls away, leaving you cold and waiting. His hand goes back to your hip to hold you in the exact position he wants you in, and, right after pulling his hand away again, you just feel his dick lining up with your entrance and sliding into you.

The sensation almost feels like too much, making you pull away from the kiss and bring your hands to his shoulders. Your hands hold onto his skin, underneath the opened suit, and Rafe groans at the feeling of your nails on his skin. He doesn’t move, once he’s able to slide entirely into you, and all you hear for those seconds of no movement is both of your elaborate breathings.

Rafe breaks the silence, “Fuck, you feel so good.” making you chuckle and pull him into a kiss.

As soon as he begins to move, you almost feel as if your body is not your own. The pleasure is too much, and you can’t help but pull Rafe closer to you. His movements are steady and slow at first, but, at this moment, it almost feels like enough. Something about being worried and anxious throughout the night made you feel as if your body is now overly sensitive to everything that Rafe touches.

Your moans aren’t words, just whimpers and sounds of pleasure, never too loud and even sometimes a whisper. Rafe looks down at you, as one of his hands moves to wrap his arm around your back to support your body close to his. Your hair looks perfect again, and your lips only have a slight smudge at a corner, almost unnoticeable. One of your dress’ straps has slid off your shoulder, making his half-closed eyes stare at your jiggling flesh. He pulls you in closer and speeds up ever so slightly, letting the sound of skin slapping and your wet pussy fill his ears and consume him.

You lean your forehead on his shoulder, as one of your hands slides out of his suit and wraps around his bicep. His cock, moving back and forth, his tight hold on your body, your naked chest now glued to his, it seems like too much for you to even open your eyes. It is as if flames consume your body, from your legs to your head, centering around your stomach. It burns at your insides, and all you can think of is how good it feels.

You know you have to be quick about it. Your biggest worries are just a few steps away, so possibly able to find you and what you’re doing, bringing to absolute ruin. But, now, you can't bring yourself to care. And especially not when Rafe moves to grab onto your face and brings your lips to his, making your mind go fuzzy, and your heart flip with love and pleasure for this man.

The kiss starts with form, but it loses it within seconds with some of your moans and Rafe’s groans. Both of you are lost, and getting worse with each stroke and each kiss. You have obviously gotten wetter, you both can hear it, and Rafe can’t help but reach underneath your dress to touch you.

You let out a gasp, which turns into a moan when he touches your clit, and he simply holds your face in place, unwrapping his arm from your body. Your hands reach to hold onto the counter of the bathroom, and the cold stone bites at your skin once you touch it.

Rafe kisses you slowly one last time and lets go of your face before he speeds up his thrusts a last time, making his movements fast and rough, but sloppy. Yet you swear that you have never felt better. His cock reaches deep into you and with each stroke, it touches where it should. His finger slides with ease over your swollen clit, and your pussy squeezes him in response to all of it.

Rafe’s fist closes with all its might as he keeps going and you moan his name, close to his ear. Both of you are beginning to break your first sweat as the peak of your pleasure gets closer and closer. You can almost taste it. Rafe pulls you back to him, maybe a bit too forcefully, but you couldn't care less. You moan into his skin as he gets you closer and closer to your orgasm, and your hands claw at his skin for it.

He leans in close to your ear and whispers, “Come on, baby, come for me.”

After just another two thrusts, you sob out a moan into his neck and Rafe puts your mouth to his in a kiss. Your hands reach for his face, even while still reacting to your too-powerful orgasm, and he follows you right after, pounding into you with a force you know will leave you sore, but for a cost that you could accept any day.

As both your heart rates slow down and your breathing calms, your mouths go back into a normal kiss, your usual slow and loving. Rafe wraps both of his arms around you, pulling your flesh impossibly closer to his, and you relax close to him, ignoring what could possibly await downstairs.

(…)

It took you embarrassingly long to fix your makeup before you got down the stairs with Rafe. No one is walking in anymore, which can only mean that it is finally late enough for anyone else to come in fashionably late.

Your heels click as you walk a little too fast due to your anxiety, Rafe stays a little behind, letting you in the room before he does. You push the door open, and the sound of all the conversations around the room hits you all at once. You look over at Rafe before you walk in, and he nods at you to go.

You walk through a few groups of people and look over at where you left your parents, only to find them in the same place - your father just a few steps behind. You fight the urge to smile a bit and begin to walk towards them, but your legs stop moving when noticing Kristy with her arm crossed with your mother, as her mother stands right next to her too.

All three of them are in a deep conversation, but smiles are all around, which only soothes your soul a slight bit.

Kristy’s mother, Natasha, is another type of woman entirely. In all the years of your friendship, you had only seen her a few times, always out in business. She is a hauntingly beautiful woman. And, yes, even after so many years, you too are scared of her, while your mother never seems to get enough of her.

“Oh, there you are!” Your mother says, noticing you right away. You walk closer to them, trying to hide how stiff your body feels due to the adrenaline coursing through you, “Are you feeling alright? You were gone for a bit.”

“Yeah, just a stomachache, I think.” You tell her, “But I’m feeling much better now.”

“Do you think it’s something you could’ve eaten?” She asks, and your eyes move over to Kristy who is obviously staring at you, hard.

“Maybe.” You shrug at your mom, ready to change the topic of conversation.

“I told you to put the leftovers in the fridge yesterday, but, no, you just had to do it when you felt like it, right, missy?” She teases, looking over at Natasha to make her join in on the motherly teasing session.

But, when you look over at her, you would have to be blind to not notice the way she is looking at you. Different from the way she used to, which could only mean one thing.

“Oh,” She plays along, hiding her staring slightly better, this time. “Kristy is just the same, you know? Always does things on her own time, no matter what I tell her.”

Kristy would’ve rolled her eyes at her mother’s words if she wasn’t occupied staring at someone in the distance. Her silence was so out of character that you weren’t the only one to notice her distraction, because your mother looked faster, and her mouth followed at light speed.

“How can a son arrive so late to an event organized by his own family? A shame, really.” You tense further as she shakes her head.

Kristy tenses too at her words, quickly looking away and down at her feet for a few seconds in shame. Having had enough of her shit, you can't help but continue to glare at her.

Your mother, oblivious, does not notice the tension building up, but you’re thankful for that as she keeps herself busy by bad-mouthing your boyfriend instead.

“No surprise that Rose doesn’t bring him to so many of her parties,” She says, “I would do the same.”

“What a disgrace of a boy...” Natasha says but while directly facing you, almost as if trying to talk to you about him. “Do you know him?”

“What?” You ask her, trying to hold back your defensive tone.

“Rafe Cameron,” She reminds you, “Do you know him?”

Your mother looks at you, intrigued by the conversation. “Oh, no, not at all.” She answers for you.

“Are you sure?” Natasha asks you with a dip of her chin, making Kristy turn her head to her in shock. “He’s not too far from your age.”

“A year.” You tell her, and she nods, beginning to grin at your response. Your mother looks at you in interest but, of course, nothing malicious is crossing her mind, “I’ve talked to him before, yes.”

You can come to very much regret saying such a thing in a few seconds but, at the end of the day, if you ever want your mom to know of your relationship, she better start warming up to the idea that you at least know the guy.

“You have?” Your mother’s interest could not have been more peaked.

“Yeah,” You nod, noticing that Kristy’s shocked eyes have now come to face you too, “Not as bad as everyone says.” You shrug.

“Really?” Natasha asks, humor thick in her voice, but you ignore it and simply nod. “Oh, I’ve heard the opposite, that he and his friends are an absolute horror to talk to. Very rude, weren’t they, Kristy?”

Kristy’s eyes almost pop out of her head once her mother mentions her name and her experiences.

“Oh-oh, uhm…” She hesitates, making your mom almost want to shake her to spit it out. “I didn’t have the greatest conversations, no.”

“How come?” Your mom pressures her, pulling at their crossed arms, urging her to tell all, but Kristy is nowhere near ready to let it out.

“Just some parties, you know.” She shrugs, “He must have been drunk a few of those times, so he wasn’t the nicest.”

“What kind of things did he say to you?” Your mom asks.

“Oh, not to me. But my friends, for example… One day, they were looking for someone.” You fight the urge to punch her, this time, “And asked him- because he is… friends... with her.” She takes a deep breath, “They asked him about her, but he just told them to ‘f’ off and all that.”

“Who were they looking for again, sweetheart? His girlfriend, was it?” Her mother asks, only looking at her daughter in fake curiosity.

Your mother could not even contain her shock, letting out a gasp so loud that some people around you turned to look at her. You, on the other hand, feel as if someone had just thrown you into an iced lake. “He has a girlfriend?!”

“Oh, yes, he does.” Natasha says, “Quite a shock to me too when I heard.”

“Do you happen to know who it is?” She says, leaning in as if to know a secret.

You physically butt in by putting your hand in between them, stopping Natasha from opening her mouth any further and making the two of them look at you.

“It’s his private life, we shouldn’t talk about it.” You say, with a tone so serious that it made your mom notice some of the attention you all were gathering around you.

She smiles at the people, who turn away right after, and, with a lower tone of voice, she says, “Oh, honey, please. That boy has never been private a day in his life.” Your mother insists, “It’s nice of you to try and be civil but with Rafe Cameron?”

“You’re not being fair, mom.” You tell her, letting her continue to think of you as just a nice person trying not to dirty her pure and innocent ears with gossip. “You don’t know him.” You look at the other two women.

Kristy listens to your words and notices her mother’s silence. She did not expect her mother to try and provoke you as much as she did, but Kristy can only blame herself for that. She shouldn’t have told her everything she knew, but it had been a bad day, and she thought she could trust her mother to stay quiet. After all, she had always seemed to like you. Yet, there was something about your words just now that sounded like they were meant for her too.

After all, you were defending Rafe from her. Again.

“You know him that well?” Kristy asks you, after the seconds of silence – and delusion from you, since you thought it had been enough to calm down the conversation and delay it for another time.

You look at her with eyes that could only mean two things to any onlooker, either that you were offended by her words or the complete opposite, that you were pleading with her to just stop whatever she and her mother were doing.

“I wouldn’t say that well.” You say, slowly, trying to measure your every word, so it wouldn’t lead to any misunderstandings. “But I have talked to him and seen him a lot of times. I’m at his home for a lot of hours, remember?”

“That’s right, you tutor the Wheezie girl.” Your mother suddenly remembers, “But, the rumors about him can’t be all that big of a lie. So many people tell them. A new one each week.”

“But... Like you just heard, he just got himself a girlfriend. Even you were surprised.” She nods, not understanding where you’re going with this. “If he can get himself a girl to date after all the rumors about him, maybe he’s not that bad.” You shrug.

You continue to look at your mom, in silence, watching as she slowly bites the bait towards a more open-minded and not-so-horrible mental image of Rafe, but you watch it all burn down in front of your eyes, right as Kristy starts to speak.

“That really depends on what type of girl you imagine him dating,” She says with a chuckle as if finding what you said cute or amusing. Deep down she is boiling in anger with the way you dodge every question with ease, like you've been hiding for so long, you already became accustomed to it all. “You’re imagining him with a well-mannered girl, about his age, a great student, and with great friends that can only be a good influence on him—”

“Kristy,” You warn her.

“But the reality is that we don’t know who the girl is.” She continues in a tone that not even a saint would believe to be truthful, “His girlfriend can very much be like any other slut. Someone who can only match his energy, someone who can only ruin herself further than she has already ruined.”

She looks you in the eyes as she says those exact words, fueled with rage after hearing you say all those things about how everyone just misunderstands Rafe.

“That is…” Your mother says and hesitates, not loving the words used to describe the hypothetical girl just now.

“What’s wrong?” Kristy asks you, not even hiding her tone this time, “Stomachache, again?”

Your breathing is uncontrollable, and your heart is beating rapidly. You’re not sure if it’s adrenaline, anger, heartbreak, anxiety, or everything all at once. All of what is being unsaid is being left in the air, like a toxic cloud, which everyone just watches you seem to be the only one in the conversation to be able to breathe it in.

“Something like that.” You say with gritted teeth with a short smile.

Your mother’s face twists with worry and Rafe is quickly forgotten. She turns to you, but you can’t take your eyes off the two women who appear to be practically orgasming with how they are loving to threaten to ruin your life with casual banter.

“We can go ask Rose if she has something for a stomachache, honey, would you like me to do that?” You don’t answer but try to shake your head, which goes unnoticed. “Or maybe in our car, maybe I have something for you to take.”

“I’m fine, mom, really.”

“What’s happening over here?” You hear your father’s worried voice behind you, which makes you turn to face him.

“She’s feeling sick—” Your mom tries to tell him.

“Sick? Did you eat something you shouldn’t?” He asks you, “Was it those leftovers? Honey, we’ve told you that you should put them in the fridge—”

“You should tell them the truth,” A voice interrupts your father, making you look at the two women again, your heart now at your stomach making you even more nauseous.

“What?” Your mother asks with pure confusion over her features, “What are you talking about?”

You look at the two mothers, both looking at each other, one with a know-it-all look, while the other is lost in absolute confusion.

“If it was my Kristy, I would’ve wanted her to tell me everything since day one.” She says, facing me again.

“Shut the fuck up.” You say to her, your volume low so as to not get any attention from anyone outside of this conversation, but your mother’s gasp might have gotten some looks right after, again.

“Apologize!” Your mother says to you, “You cannot speak to her this way, she’s your friend’s—”

“No,” Kristy says, only making your mother’s frown deepen. “Actually, you might not even know but we haven’t been friends for quite a few weeks, isn’t that right?” She smiles at you.

“What?” Your father asks, shocked to know that the once inseparable childhood best friends are no more.

“Tell them.” She tells you, making your eyes water, from anger, embarrassment, or complete horror that this is finally happening, but you fight the tears. “They deserve to know.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to hold in your need to gasp for a sob that you are holding in.

“Could either of you two just tell us what is going on, already?” Your father asks, leaning his hand on your back to try and offer you comfort, but his touch only repulses you, given what you are being forced to say.

Your panic rises as you’re unable to scream hysterically at the women in front of you to just disappear and mind their own business due to how many people surround you. How many of your parents’ friends and coworkers surround you, and how you would just embarrass them if you even dared to say half of what this woman and her daughter deserve to hear.

“Maybe we should go home,” You tell your dad, “I’m not feeling good.”

Your mother can’t even help but look at the two women in front of you sideways. She has known the women for years and has never seen them behave the way that they are behaving. But, again, she also has known you since you were born. You’re half of her. And she hasn’t seen you talk or act the way you are, right now.

“What is it that she’s talking about, honey?” Your mother pulls at you, worried but frightened too with what could be about to come out of your mouth.

“Let’s just go.” You tell your mom, feeling your entire burn in horror. They will know everything after today. There is no other way around it. “I'll tell you at home, please.”

Kristy's mother speaks again. “Just say it.”

She opens her mouth, but you make sure to speak over her, “You don’t know nothing about me or my life, you have no right—”

“Just like I don’t know your boyfriend, right?” She asks, and everything around you goes silent, “There... See? Not so hard.”

“Wha-what? What do you mean by that?” Your mom says, taking a step closer to her, hoping that she had misheard her.

Natasha does a short smile at your mother, and your father, having not been present during the past conversation, simply brushes his hand up and down on your back. He still does not understand a single thing of what they are saying, but he is worried about you.

No one says another word, and Natasha and her daughter walk out of the conversation. You recoil from your father’s touch and take a step back from both of your parents. Your breathing is beginning to sound strange to you, and your skin feels too hot to the touch even though chills run down your body. Your heart is breaking and being ripped out at the same time, and the world has begun to lose its center of gravity because it is suddenly too hard to stand.

Your mother continues to stand a step away from you, not moving, thinking to herself about how she and her own mind can be wrong. How this is not her reality, and how when she turns to face you, she will find you and Kristy, still as best friends, laughing at her face for being so dumb to even believe all of this. But she doesn’t. She turns, and she finds you pulling away from your father and walking away, ready to get out of the building.

She stands there, watching you walk out of the room, and notices that Kristy is following right behind. She can’t move or speak for a few seconds. Her husband stands beside her, asking her what the hell is going on, and in the corner of her eye, she sees him. She turns her head to him and watches him, with his blue suit just like her daughter’s dress and hair cut short. He has a charming smile on his face as he speaks to a group of men with his father on his side. He is acting unbothered and calm like he always does in these events.

As her heart continues to pound, her husband follows her eyes and stares confusingly at Rafe Cameron, trying to decipher what could be going on, but to no avail.

You forcefully clean your tears with your shaking hands and walk quickly down the hall towards the door to the outside. Right next to the door, you notice three people talking, but before you can even get close to them, a voice stops you.

“I didn’t mean for this to be like this,” Kristy says to you, and your blood boils at the sound of her voice,

“Oh, fuck you.” You exhale out the words at her, knowing the people in the room of the event won’t hear a thing, turning to face her. “You and your mother knew exactly what you were doing.”

“I didn’t want it to be today.” She shakes her head, not exactly sure what she should say to you first, “I just thought that your parents deserved the truth.”

“Oh my god, Kristy, shut up! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP with your 'could do no evil' attitude!! No one asked you for anything! I was going to tell my parents when it was safe for me to do so.” You try to hold in your tears, even when you know you have every right to cry, “You bitch, I probably don’t even have a house to live in right now, and all you care about is how you could justify your own stupid actions? Fuck you!” You try to turn to walk away again.

“I—” She tries to walk with you.

“No! Stop!” You tell her, holding out your hand, “You have said and done enough today, Kristy. I do not want to ever see you again. I will never forgive you for anything that you and your mother have done today.” You can’t even hold yourself back from both continuing and letting out some tears, “I am an adult, I have been an adult this entire time. I choose my own relationships, and you have nothing to do with it.”

“You know that is not why I don’t approve…”

“Exactly! Because I don’t need you to approve, Kristy. You are not my mother and you sure as hell aren’t my friend anymore. Your approval means absolutely nothing to me, right now. Maybe before you fucked up, absolutely, that is why I didn’t say anything before, but now?” You run your hands through your hair in frustration as you snicker at your own words, “And you called me a slut, for Christ’s sake. In front of my own fucking mother.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I don’t give a shit, Kristy!” You wave your arms in the air for emphasis, “I do not give a single shit about what you meant or even still want to mean. You have officially and royally fucked me for life, and you think you have the right to run after me?” You ask as you angrily wipe away your tears.

Kristy bites down her tongue and looks at you, “I just don’t understand how you think that what I did was so wrong. I get it, I should’ve let you have the conversation with your parents at your own time, but also look at my side. Why did you hide him? If he is so great, as you say, why did you hide him from us? From me?” She pauses, “We were best friends. I only wanted what was best for you. Of course, I wouldn’t like to hear that you were with him, but I would’ve still preferred to have you tell me the truth.” You turn your back to her and start walking again, “That is why I will never understand this relationship.”

“Do you really want to know, Kristy?” You say out loud, turning to face her again, noticing how she hasn’t moved closer, “Because it was fun. In the beginning, all of this was for fun. I had fun with him. I felt like I could do whatever the hell I wanted with my life without anyone judging me or thinking less of me. And it was a secret because it was all there was to it: fun! And, after everything, he was nice to me, and he was gentle with me.” You take a breath, “And since that moment on, I gave him more of me and, even when he royally fucked up too, he made sure to make up for it and stay by me.”

Kristy opens her mouth to twist your words, but you don’t let her.

“And before you even say. I do not give a shit if he drinks or if he fights, or if he does fucking coke every single day in his life, you know why? Because at the end of the day, he will come back to me and love me, and let me love him like he deserves to be loved.” You sniffle, “Rafe has not mistreated me a day in his life. He takes care of me, and he loves me, and that is all I could ever ask of him… And the fact that you couldn’t even try and get to know him- It really shows who I must choose to include in my life from now on.”

You take a breath and hear the door to the event open again, so you decide to end the conversation.

“Goodbye, Kristy.”

You turn again and walk over to the front door. When you walk closer, you notice that the three people who used to stand by the door have stopped talking, pretty sure right after you started screaming. You almost apologize as you walk past them, but you notice that one of them is Rose. You almost freeze once you realize that now she too knew of your relationship with Rafe, but your body is too locked into the idea of getting the hell out of there, so you simply look away and walk right off into the cold night’s breeze.

What the fuck are you going to do now?

I finally did it! I honestly believe that this was the hardest chapter to edit. Everything just felt so cartoonishly evil, I hated it and had to basically rewrite it. I was so stressed, I really wanted it to be good. Hopefully, it was worth the wait!!

If you're wondering where I've been or if I'm okay, I'm more than okay. I'm just really busy with uni since my professors seem to hate me, and I had no inspiration for the entirety of my summer vacation. So, now, when my life is at the peak of stress, I decided to post this (just to add more stress, but anyway).

I really hope you enjoyed this! I am so sorry that it took me this long <3

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