#like we aren’t discussing the practice of fanfic enough

[desaturate-worlds]

j saw someone call their 3k word fic a drabble. what’s going on guys.

[frickyeahfanfic]

✧   -   SLANDER.  ⋮ L.L. - 2/?

A LEX LUTHOR FANFIC   CHAPTER 2 | COMPROMISES

MASTERPOST summary: lex likes to play games. you play along (barely). under the threat of your personal life, a deal is struck, welcome to the corporate world. pairing: lex luthor / f!reader tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers vibes???, this one's a little more intense than the last, lex likes it rough hehe word count: 2.1k a/n: had sooo much fun writing this chapter. lex luthor is sick and twisted. oops.

“Don’t worry now. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have made it past page one.”

Funnily enough, you would have preferred dying in this moment. Being face to face with the very man whose reputation you were chipping away at was horrifying. 

You knew he was powerful, but you were not excited to find out how powerful. 

“I think you have the wrong person," you say.

Idiot. He can probably see right through me. He’s not dumb. 

Your face pales as he steps closer, the smile remaining on his lips. “Harper McNeil. That’s who I’m looking for, right? What a shame it’s not real. I did like the name Harper.” 

Yep. I’m screwed. He knows exactly who I am. “Okay. What do you want?” You manage, struggling to keep the shaking in your voice down. You squint up at him through the fluorescent lighting. 

Lex Luthor sighs and clasps his hands together. “Well. We have much to discuss. But first, I need you to be willing to work with me. And I don’t play nice with people who aren’t on my side.”

“Who says I’m not on your side?” You ask. Maybe it’s time to play the long game.

He then snaps his fingers, and the door behind you opens. You can hear someone walking quickly, and when they approach you and Lex, you turn your head and see that they’re carrying a chair, like the one you’re sitting in. They look like a body guard, face disguised by a mask, wearing a plain black jacket like your kidnapper earlier. He places the chair in front of you, and Lex gracefully sits down. 

He’s clearly trying to assert his high corporate level dominance. Okay, drama queen.

The body guard hands Lex a manilla folder and he takes it from him, then motions for the man to leave. The door shuts behind you. You’re alone with Lex again. 

He opens it and starts reading. 

“LuthorCorp continues to blur lines between innovation and inhumanity. With biological experiments that raise ethical flags, we can’t help but wonder if they’re worth it. Maybe Lex Luthor is taking his scientific promises too far.” 

“It’s my job,” you cut him off. 

He raises an eyebrow, and looks up at you. “I’m sorry?” 

“It’s my job… I have to write what people want to read.” 

“Oh,” he says, as if you said something groundbreaking. “I see. So you feed them lies.” 

You inhale sharply. “They’re not lies.” 

There’s that thin, practiced smile again. “How can you be so sure?” he says coyly. 

You're too deep in the hole you’ve dug for yourself. 

“Well. If they were lies, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

There. You manage to wipe the grin off his face. 

He turns the page, then lifts up the paper. It’s your personal information, all of it. Your address, your car license plate, your parents names, the names of your closest friends, information to your accounts. 

Everything. You name it, it’s in that folder. 

“How-” 

“Although I have all of this,” he puts the folder down on his lap, tracing arbitrary lines over the page, “I still don’t know how you accessed classified LuthorCorp documents. Impressive, really. And so inconvenient.”

He leans forward, eyes darting back and forth between yours as if trying to read your mind. With all the information he has on you, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could. 

“You’ve made quite a name for yourself, fake, of course. Normally I’d remove a threat like you without hesitation.” 

He pauses, watching your reaction. You’re fighting to keep your heartrate down. 

“Consider your popularity the only thing keeping you alive.” 

“So what do you want me to do? Just write an article, saying how glorious LuthorCorp actually is?” You snap, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lex stands slowly, placing the folder under his arm, then takes a step forward. He leans down, till his face hovers just inches from yours. 

He’s so close, you catch the scent of his cologne, clean and sharp, something expensive no doubt. It matches him. 

“No,” he says, voice low and smooth. “I want you to write something believable.” 

His gaze flicks to your lips. “Something that sounds like you. That sounds like the truth. But doesn’t get anyone killed.” 

He looks back up at your eyes. “Call it… a compromise. Do we have a deal?” 

You clench your jaw and turn your head away for a moment. Was this worth it? 

Do I even have a choice?

He straightens up and opens the folder, flipping to the last page. He places it on your lap.

“LuthorCorp May Be Watching From Inside Your Apartment”

It’s your unpublished article. As you glance over it, you realize it’s partially rewritten, edited, just enough to scrub LuthorCorp clean without changing your voice. It reads like you, but sterilized. It’s offensive, really.  

“Publish it.”

It’s not a suggestion. It’s an order. 

“And after work, you'll come to me. I’ll send someone, of course. Wouldn’t want those precious heels walking too far.” 

You scowl up at him, biting back the insult rising in your throat. “And if I say no?” 

Now that your articles have caught your coworker’s attention, they’ll notice the change in tone of your “writing”. They’ll ask questions. Questions that could put them at risk.

He lifts a brow, almost amused. 

“You won’t.” 

He storms off before you can respond, leaving the empty chair, the folder, and you. 

….Still handcuffed to the chair. 

You let out a breath, glance around at the nothingness, then shout, “Help!” 

Nothing. Except for the echo of your voice. The lights in the tunnel turn off now. Darkness presses hard against your eyes, and you try twisting out of the cuffs again, fruitlessly. 

You sag against the backrest. Dammit. All that psychological terror and he didn’t have the decency to let you go? 

Then, in the distance, you hear it. An engine. To your left. Distant at first, but growing louder, and closer. 

A pair of headlights cut through the dark tunnel, blinding, The vehicle barrels forward, tires humming against the concrete floor. 

Your pulse spikes. It’s not slowing down. 

The hairs stand on the back of your neck once you realize the vehicle is picking up some major speed, with no signs of stopping.

“Hey!” You yell, panic catching in your throat.  

The car doesn’t stop. 

You scream, flinching to the side, just as it slams to a screeching halt, inches from your left shoulder. The force of the stop kicks dust into the air, blowing the folder off your knees and to the ground, and the heat from the engine rolls over your legs. 

You’re alive. But barely. You squint through the headlights, making out a figure that steps out of the car and approaches you. Another one of Lex’s pawns. He unlocks the handcuffs, letting them drop to the ground. You rub your wrists and stand, watching carefully as the man picks up the folder off the ground. He shoves it into your arms. 

You take it, reluctantly, knowing that if you didn’t, there would be consequences. 

The man turns and walks towards the car, and you follow him silently, shooting a glare that he can’t see with his back turned. 

Just as you’re about to enter the vehicle, something catches your eye. 

A narrow window, tinted, and high on the tunnel wall. You didn’t see it earlier since your back was turned away. 

Now with the car’s bright headlights against the concrete around, you can see straight through it. 

Lex Luthor, standing behind the glass. Arms crossed, expression unreadable- 

Except for that slight smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. 

He’s amused. Entertained by the spectacle no doubt he had planned out. The near collision and your desperate cries for help, frozen with fear. 

It was a warning. 

You meet his gaze, jaw clenched. 

And he smiles wider. 

Bastard. 

He knows you’re in his hands now. 

You turn, forcing your legs, and step into the car. The door slams shut behind you. 

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗

You look like hell. 

There’s faint dark lines where your mascara ran from your tears. Your hair is a mess, shirt’s wrinkled, and skirt is slightly dusty from getting tossed to the ground. Eyes bloodshot, you peel away from your mirror, and trudge out of the bathroom. 

What a night. Sometimes you’d come home Thursday nights late like this, but drunk and in good spirits, after spending it with your coworkers at the bar. You’d have work to look forward to the next day, then the weekend. 

Now, you were dreading even stepping back into the office. 

The pale manilla folder sits hauntingly on your coffee table. You ignore it for the night. Besides, you had already seen its contents. Why would you need to reminisce about the fact that Lex had every personal detail of your life in addition to your article he had so menacingly edited to fit his narrative?

Your mind races back your conversation with Lex. 

“Call it a compromise”

Compromise? Please. This was Lex Luthor doing what he does best, making you feel like you had a choice. 

You rake a hand through your hair, and tug slightly, attempting to ground yourself. You itched to tell someone what a lunatic he was.

Taking a deep breath, you pull your phone out of your pocket, starting a text to Jimmy. 

“Something insane just happened to me-” 

But you stop. You look around your apartment, scanning the top corners for cameras. There aren’t any that you can see, but you wouldn’t be surprised if there were some hidden away. 

Lex Luthor probably has your apartment tapped with microphones too, but you were too tired to even try finding them. Plus, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of more panic on your end. 

You delete the message. Getting your coworkers involved might put them at risk too. And besides, they warned you about writing articles on LuthorCorp. Now that’s just embarrassing.

You need to stay calm, collected, one step ahead of the corporate mastermind himself. Alone.

And for now, you need sleep. You pace over to shut your blinds like you did every night, and freeze. 

They’re already closed. Your breath catches. 

Someone’s been in here. 

You shudder, and push away the thought. 

Later in bed, you lie awake, staring at the ceiling. 

I wanted answers. Not a target on my back. 

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗

The computer screen casts a soft glow on Lex’s face as he rewatches… you.

The camera footage from the tunnel interrogation plays on a loop. He’s analysing your reactions, your words, the sound of your voice down to the twitch in your facial features. 

Then his favorite part comes on. The little car bit? Flawless. The way you screamed just before the bumper went through your skull? Perfection. 

You were just where he wanted you. Under his control. Playing your part in his games. 

Even terrified, you managed to hold his gaze with a sense of sharpness. Most people looked away. You didn’t. 

And damn, he liked it more than he should. 

There’s a knock at the door. 

Lex pauses the video. “Come in.” 

It’s James again. “Sir, I think I might have found it.” 

Lex tilts his head, inviting him to continue. 

“The leak. The one Harper’s been using.” James steps closer, laying a tablet on the glass desk. A file opens, there’s blurred security footage, a transfer log, and a few names. 

“It’s internal,” James says. “Encrypted documents were accessed through a proxy within our systems. Clearly someone tried to cover it, but it was sloppy. Whoever sent them to her didn’t cover their tracks enough.” 

Lex’s eyes narrow, no doubt scheming. “And?”

“I traced the signal to an employee login, in our engineering division. Someone with top level clearance. The account was supposed to be deleted months ago.”

“Hm. Send over their name as well as anyone else connected to them.” 

“Yes, sir,” James pauses, then adds, “If she didn’t get those files on her own, that means someone inside wants this to blow up.” 

Lex’s lips press together in disapproval. “I know. We’ll take care of them. In the meantime, we’ll access their accounts and make her think that she’s still in contact with them. But we’ll be giving her the right information. She won’t know who’s telling her the truth anymore.” 

He dismisses James with a flick of his hand. Once the door clicks shut, he turns back to the paused frame on the monitor. Your face, caught between fear and indignation. 

“Let’s see how long you can pretend to play both sides, Harper McNeil.” 

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

CHAPTER 3 ➠

TAGLIST: @hsgvhhi @warmestsugarcookie @idratherbesleepingrn  @boy-eater11 @purplefluffycows @high-functioning-cosplayer @amndstuckinwonderland @boba-is-a-soup @indigo703 @otakusimp1 @ihatecaloriez

(lmk if you want on or off the taglist!)

[griseldagimpel]

The OTW is doing questions for the Board candidates, and one of those questions pertains to adding more Mandatory Archive Warnings, which is something I’ve pushed for in the past. Therefore, I wanted to look at the answers the candidates gave for that question in detail. The goal of this is to assess how likely it, for each candidate, that their election to the Board would lead to there being additional Mandatory Archive Warnings.

Question: Do you support adding additional mandatory archive warnings (for example, warnings for incest and slavery), and do you think this is feasible?

Criticism of This Question: I really wish this question didn’t ask about feasibility. I really wish instead it had asked how the candidates would have solved the challenges related to it. I’m about to be critical of the candidates’ responses, but I do want to acknowledge here that the question is itself tepid and immediately gives the candidates an ‘out’ where they can just espouse on how Mandatory Archive Warnings aren’t feasible, which is pretty much what they all do.

Anh P’s Answer: After hours of researching and reading related documents, I think we need to be extra cautious about adding new mandatory archive warnings to the Archive as of 2023. 

In addition, even if we could all agree to add new warning labels – such as slavery – after countless hours of discussions and debates on how to define said label, some fans would still be unhappy. There’s no consensus about what the definition for the new archive warning would be, nor which fanfics would need it, thus making it an impossible task for the Archive administrators to enforce it.

Furthermore, there are practicality concerns after we deploy a new major archive warning, for example, every single fanwork on the archive might need a little notification flag at the top that says “This fic was posted before [date] when the [label] major warning was implemented.” And the orphaned fanworks would keep that flag forever.

For the above reasons, and from all the internal discussions regarding additional archive warnings that I’ve followed, I believe that adding mandatory archive warnings seems impractical for AO3 at the moment. I understand that this may be disappointing to many frustrated users who have been asking for additional major archive warnings on AO3 for some time. Right now, I don’t think new mandatory warning labels on the archive are feasible, but I’m not opposed to the idea of one if a true consensus were to ever be reached. In conclusion, I would not actively advocate for new archive warnings as a Board member, but I am not strictly opposed to them in concept. 

My Thoughts: My issue with this answer is that it ignores that the same ambiguity exists with the current warnings. Seriously, y’all, Graphic Depictions of Violence is not a clear-cut warning!

Also, a Board that refuses to do anything that will make some fans unhappy is likely going to be a Board paralyzed in inaction and so only maintain the status quo.

This answer also features a trend I see with the answers to this question (and to some of the other questions, like AI), where challenges - such as how to account for existing works - are brought up, but then rather present a solution, it’s used as a reason to Do Nothing.

Audrey R’s Answer: In the short-term: no to both. Perhaps a year down the line this is a conversation to have, but right now I am focused on OTW’s internal stability.

In the long-term: we can look into whether additional mandatory warnings will be useful. Right now, from my perspective, the idea of adding those two warnings is a concession that enough work exists on the Archive for it to be a mandatory warning instead of individual tags. That could have serious implications as far as both domestic hosting and international access are concerned. As for their feasibility? I do not have the full knowledge base to pull from to say. That conversation will need to begin with the input of multiple committees.

My Thoughts: I do not like that this answer takes the two warnings used as an example as THE warnings that should be added when they are presented as examples only. I also wish Audrey’d elaborated on the “serious implications” because I’m not sure what Audrey’s alluding to.

Anyway, Audrey is opposed. That’s pretty cut and dry. 

Jennifer H’s Answer: On one hand, I want to remain cognizant that the archive was founded by a non-diverse group and the mandatory archive warnings reflect that. On the other hand, if additional mandatory warnings are added, choosing them would need careful consideration. 

All that said, my current proposal is this: continue preparing the archive for canonizing additional No Fandom tags again (recently announced at the latest Board meeting) and enable a permanent tag blocklist, similar to the muted words function on Twitter. That way users will not need to enter all of their blocked tags each time they search through works. 

My Thoughts: Jennifer brings up a valid point about the existing warning list...and then promptly pivots to Something Entirely Different. And, like, permanent tag blocklists would be nice! But it doesn’t need to be a choice between that and new Mandatory Archive Warnings.

Kathryn S’s Answer: I’m not opposed, but it’s an extremely complicated prospect, and the coding is the least of it. Considerations include but are not limited to: 

How do you choose which warnings to add? 

How do you define the warnings in such a way that PAC can enforce them? Remember, with optional tags the creator gets to decide whether it applies, but for mandatory warnings, PAC has to have a definition that they can consistently and fairly enforce.

Consider, for example, incest. How closely related? Does relation by marriage count? What about step-families? Adopted families? Given the kinds of family trees that can show up in fiction, how can we expect PAC to be able to cleanly and consistently determine whether a warning like this applies?

What do you do about works that were posted before the new warnings? Put them all behind a warning that they were posted before certain mandatory warnings were in place? Add Creator Chose Not To Warn to everything posted before a certain date, thereby making it functionally useless as a warning? We hope that the AO3 will exist and grow for decades to come, but that is still millions of works that would be modified without the creator’s approval. 

Additionally, as time marches on, more mandatory warnings will be requested. Do we expect to do another round of additional warnings every couple of decades, thereby adding layers of blanket warnings to older works? The best decision in the long view may be to only have mandatory warnings that have some sort of legal basis for existing (namely, the Underage warning), and find other ways to help users protect themselves from other kinds of content.

However, I think that the first priority is to expand the capacities of PAC and ADT so that they can give this proposal the time and consideration it needs without having to be as concerned about being overwhelmed.

My Thoughts: These aren’t bad questions, but I really wish Kathryn had presented some Proposed Solutions. But it appears that Kathryn intends to delegate that to PAC and ADT.

Also, assessing additional warnings every couple of decades probably isn’t a bad idea? The world’s gonna change. Revisiting old assumptions isn’t a bad idea.

Also also, I disagree sharply that legality should be the basis for Mandatory Archive Warnings. Firstly because that’s not been the standard for existing warnings, which include, for example, Major Character Death. Secondly because the basis that currently unifies the existing Mandatory Warnings is that they are all things that could be upsetting or triggering to readers. Thirdly because there’s something like 200 countries in the world, all with their different laws, all of which are changing. Trying to base Mandatory Archive Warnings on the basis of legal concerns is going to be untenable. Seriously, the list of Commonly Triggering Topics is going to be waaay smaller than the list of Shit That’s Illegal To Read About Somewhere.

Qiao C’s Answer: 1) I don’t have any strong opinions on adding major archive warnings. Our considerations on whether a warning can become a mandatory one often are first, how practical it is to enforce and second, whether it aligns with the AO3’s general policy to encourage people to label their works however they want. There might also be legal concerns about whether reading fanworks containing certain content is illegal in certain countries. Those discussions together would mean that it would take a very long time to actually make a new mandatory warning come true.

2) As a tag wrangler, though, I would like our users to be aware that Incest and Slavery have always been common tags and can be used to filter out works. It’s a much more convenient path, during the long-term discussions of adding major archive warnings.

My Thoughts: Again we get the idea of basing Mandatory Archive Warnings on legal concerns, which, okay, empowering users to know if the fic contains something that would be illegal for them to read in their country is laudable, but that’s not the purpose of Mandatory Archive Warnings! That should be a separate feature, configurable by country, and requiring a lot of infrastructure that AO3 doesn’t currently have. I’m not opposed to the idea, but that’s not what’s being asked with this question!

Also, a tag being common is not the same thing as it being mandatory! PAC can’t act on non-mandatory warnings not being used because those are optional.

Zixin Z’s Answer: I think whether to add additional Archive warnings or not and the feasibility of doing so depends on the specific warning proposed. According to the ToS, if a user reports a work to have insufficient Archive warning, PAC is obliged to investigate and determine whether said work contains contents relevant to the Archive warning or not. Therefore, it is very important to ensure that any new Archive warnings added to AO3 are very clear and can be investigated and lead to reasonably consistent conclusions each time. In the examples given, I don’t think “Incest” has an easy standard if it is added to Archive warning. The definition for incest is different in different time and cultures. In China, marriage between cousins was not considered as incest in the past, however it is generally believed to be incest now. If there’s a work where 2 cousins get married is set in Ancient China, should the creator be asked to add “Incest” warning?

Another important factor to consider for adding Archive warnings is that the proposed content should be viewed as something that readers need to know in advance in most cultures. Again, taking “Incest” as an example: while some English-speaking fandoms might consider it as a problematic trope, incest (especially sibling incest) can sometimes be quite common in most East Asian fandoms as far as I’m aware. I understand the feeling that users might want to avoid seeing incest-related works and might not be satisfied with the existing tag filter, but adding it to the Archive warning list would feel like adding “Mafia AU” to the list for some East Asian fans. At the moment, I do not think it is feasible to add new Archive warnings; however, I am open to exploring alternative methods for addressing these issues.

My Thoughts: The first half of the first paragraph of the answer is good, but I disagree with the rest. Every Archive Warning has to have a Standard that AO3 chooses to go with, and no, there’s not a universal standard in the world for all of them. For example, for Underage, an Age of Majority had to be picked that AO3 goes by, even though the Age of Majority varies across time and place.

My other issue with this answer is that it treats Mandatory Archive Warnings as, like, a black mark. No! Mandatory Archive Warnings are based on the idea that a topic is liable to be triggering or sensitive to a lot of readers and so its presence needs to be indicated! That’s it!

I use Mandatory Archive Warnings (and additional tags) all the time for shit that doesn’t bother me, personally, but I do it out of respect for other readers.

To use Incest as an example, the justification for Incest being a Mandatory Archive Warning is not that it’s “problematic”. It’s that Incest can be triggering to a lot of people! If Incest became a Mandatory Archive Warning, I would absolutely be using it for all of the incest fics that I would still be happily writing. Because just because incest isn’t a trigger for ME doesn’t mean it’s not a common trigger for a lot of people.

Conclusion: None of the candidate’s responded with something along the lines of, ‘This is how I would go about accomplishing this, including some ideas of how I would overcome the challenges.’ And that’s frustrating. Because, okay, here’s the thing: even if you don’t feel like additional Mandatory Warnings should be a priority or done at all - which, fine, whatever - literally anything the candidates do want to do is going to have complexities and challenges. They can’t just take the first whiff of adversity as justification to give up, or they will be able to get absolutely nothing done.

[godblooded]

okay. so i just gotta write a psa about INTERACTION, WHAT CONSTITUTES GODMODDING, WHAT DOESN’T, & WHY WE SHOULD ADDRESS THIS AS A COMMUNITY. 

first off, years ago the rpc quit being a community. it became a structure, with widely accepted rules and widely discourages practices. most of them completely logical (predators in the rpc, scammers, consistent abusers, etc.) and some of them completely illogical (like the time everyone went out of their mind about lesbians using male pronouns). it’s become a place where the danger of it is: some people think they have authority, some people live in fear of having themselves targeted for any which reason, even if it’s a perceived sleight. 

by and large we’re a lot of neurodivergent people. we’re a lot of mentally ill people. we’re all living in a society where anxiety is widespread to the point of normalcy. which means i cannot count the number of times people have said ‘i want to do this, but i’m afraid i’ll be thrown out for it’. and this sometimes happens to the smallest things.

i was once criticized for how my genderfluid character identified when they were genderfluid leaning toward transmasc and i am enby transmasc, myself, both of us being afab. this happened because instead of considering something, they made a blanket generalization and said what you’re doing isn’t clear enough in your writing.

the entirety of this place has a general fear of everything. it’s become less of a comfort and more of an area where people hesitate to interact. and honestly, i think some of this has to do with the fact that we think of rp as an isolated experience instead of what it should be, which is sort of collaborative fanfiction. we forget there are two people involved and we assume the other person will be upset about the choices we make. any actions at all you write another person’s character doing either get called ‘godmodding’, or never get written because the person writing is too anxious to make a presumption. this phenomena was a lot more present in force-shipping, which is the practice of pushing your own ship agenda on another person, even if they’re either not into it/aren’t into shipping. which is shitty. but there has to be a discussion of where the line between showing interest in a shipping possibility and manipulating someone into a ship. it, frankly, only makes people with exacerbated anxiety or panic feel like every interest they take strongly will be misconstred as force-shipping. when maybe you’re just excited about the idea and wanna see if the other person digs it.

what it comes down to is: collaboration and communication. which we do not do enough anymore. the stigma around excitement in an idea or a thread often stops in one’s brain at ‘i don’t want to come off as annoying’. and herein is where it needs to become more lax and more collaborative at once. let me explain.

rp is a collaborative fanfic experience. fight me. we’re writing direct responses to one another, basically putting down another page or another chapter. it’s naturally collaborative as a practice. or should be. 

ages ago in the dinosaur years of fanfiction.net, i wrote a fanfic with an oc for a batman fic that got relatively big. someone approached me and asked if they could write an off-shot of my fic with me, an au, basically, and we would alternatively write chapters. which means. gasp. we had to write each other’s characters. 

and you know what? it was some of my best work. because nobody really considers the fact that the more you write with someone, the more you acclimate to their character. the more you get to know them. the more you get to know someone else’s character, the easier it is to hear them in your head, too.

what i’m saying is that if your characters have discussed coffee, it’s not a stretch for yours to write mine walking into the kitchen. if it was going in that direction, it’s not godmodding if you’re just following a straight path that’s a totally logical assumption. and now, the collab comes in.

if you don’t know, ask!  if you feel like you should run it by the person you’re writing with because you feel like you might be taking ooc liberties, ask! if you’re not sure if you’re capturing the essence of the other person’s character correctly, ask! 

rp isn’t a single road. it’s a two-way street, and a lot of people get discouraged feeling like ‘others don’t care about their characters’. but the problem is: nobody reaches outside their realm of comfort to make, say, the assumption that the other person’s character was doing something simple, like looking at something presented to them that’s their favorite color, etc. sometimes you let someone know you pay attention to their character and you better the storytelling by allowing the flow to become more natural.

there needs to be less structure and more collaboration, communication, and freedom to creativity. 

godmodding is something i’ve been victim to in a few extreme cases. once, in a thread, my partner’s character lost a whole fucking leg without telling me and this obviously became a lasting plot point that affected the rest of the verse. another time i went on a cruise to barcelona for three weeks with my parents (i was also rping on a forum at the time) and had no internet. upon my return my character had a time travel plot, a baby, and a relationship with my friend’s character who she had almost no contact with. i wasn’t available at the time and was a canon player in the plot (and they knew i’d be gone), but still went on with a big assuming plot that i had zero say in using my character as a vessel. THIS IS GODMODDING. WHEN YOU DO SOMETHING IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THAT HAS HUGE BEARING ON YOUR INTERACTIONS/STORY AND IT INVOLVES SOMEONE ELSE’S CHARACTER WITHOUT YOU CONTACTING THE OTHER PERSON FIRST, IT’S GODMODDING. 

it is not godmodding to write out a conversation you know your character and someone else’s have had. it’s not godmodding to write someone else’s character following a normal route of routine. just make sure for big choices, you’re actually in communication. or if you think the other person plans for the other character to act differently, approach the other writer and ask if that’s fine. hell, run dialogue by one another. these things enrich writing, foster communication, and make other people feel like you’re actually paying attention to them. so many of us make it an enclosed experience where it’s quantity over quality, and getting as much out as is possible, when it should be about why you enjoy writing, and what work makes you feel best (obviously within reason do not be disgusting).

characters have pasts. histories. maybe the both of yours went to dinner. maybe they blew up a fucking car. maybe they stole a baby. i don’t know. but if it happened, don’t be afraid to write those allusions just because ‘they involve the other person’s character’. again, communicate! 

it’s become too self-reflective in here and it’s made all of us afraid to reach out to one another and truly be creatives. and that really needs to change, because it’s bad for everyone’s mental health and it makes people give up long before they even start.

anyway, that’s my two cents as someone who’s been here through the rise and fall of the hannibal fandom.

[boymeetsweevil]

Call me maybe

Grouping: Reader x Namjoon

Word Count: ~6.59k

Warnings/Themes: Club meet-cute AU, 1% angst +99% suggestive fluff, (legal!) alcohol consumption, language, flirting anxiety(?)

Summary: It all started with a stupid drinking game...

A/N: this is the One Direction wattpad-style fanfic that's been haunting me for so long. beware of that and the fact that this is unedited hahaha...

“You know the rules, girls. Whoever wins this round of rock-paper-scissors is It.”

You and your three friends, warm and bubbly from 2 rounds of shots at this point in the evening, assume your battle stances and stick your hands into the center of your table. Four hands make a square over the scattered layer of empty decorative shot glasses from the bar in the club.

There’s an air of electric excitement that comes with this game, lovingly nicknamed Hunter-Gathering. Whoever is It gets a target and has to pursue that target in hopes of bringing ‘home’ free drinks for everyone the rest of the night. But no matter how attractive the target is, you can't ever bring them home.

“Wait, wait!” Lia chimes in. “I can’t be It this time. I did it twice already and my ass still hurts from the last time.”

Dani nods seriously. “Fair enough. That means the odds are upped for the rest of you.”

“So, we’re just gonna ignore that ass thing,” another friend, Alexa, looks around the table with confused eyes.

“Do you actually want me to give you the details?” Lia smiles slowly at her from across the table.

Alexa’s face brightens with her own smile, worry evaporated. “You know what? I don’t! Never mind.”

The game begins and somehow you find yourself the lone rock amongst two pairs of scissors. Alexa and Dani laugh with relief because they don’t have to put in any work tonight. You roll your eyes to the heavens and silently question your karma.

“Are you ready to pick your target?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Nope!” Dani grins.

She steps forward and grabs a clean face mask out of her clutch bag and wraps it around your eyes, careful not to muss your makeup or hair. Three pairs of hands rest on your shoulders and you let them spin you lightly around a few times. Not enough to get you dizzy but just enough to make sure you don’t know what direction you’re facing anymore.

“Alright,” Dani’s voice sounds out over the music of the club. “Take your pick!”

You stick your hand out blindly and someone unties the makeshift blindfold. Everyone follows the line your hand makes all the way to a tall figure standing by the side of the bar.

He’s probably the most handsome man any of you have seen in a while. There's an intimidating aura emanating from him. You figure it's the understated all-black outfit complete with the heinously expensive watch he's wearing and the sheer height of him as he towers over people near him at the bar.

“Oh my god,” Dani whispers as you all take in the stranger’s face.

“We can finally get top shelf vodka,” Alexa pretends to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Not bad,” Lia hums in appreciation.

“Okay, why is everyone acting like I bagged him already?” Your voice grows high with nerves. “I'm pretty sure I have, like, a 2% chance of interesting him."

“What are you so worried about?” Dani crosses her arms at you. “Just do whatever you did to get those history nerds to help you out that one time."

"This is not the same thing. Those guys parted their hair 90/10 unironically and thought Diva Cups are for when you don't want to hold your pee when you stand in line for roller coasters."

"You're kidding," Lia gasps. You wish you were.

"Well, just pretend he's one of them anyway." Dani suggests, "Every guy is the same."

You can't argue with that logic.

“I mean, I can try flirting with him, but he’s probably so used to people throwing themselves at him. I don’t think anything I do would, like, make a dent, you know?”

“Babe, no. No—listen to me, okay?” Alexa takes you by the shoulders and forces you around so you can see how serious she is.

“Tonight is the last free night of vacation. After tonight, we have less than a day to get over our hangovers, pack up the Airbnb, and then catch our 6am flight back home to start the spring term. Our last night of freedom lies in your hands.”

“But, what if—”

“No ‘but’s. Do you see yourself? Do you see your skin in this fresh white two piece? Have you seen how your tits look in this off the shoulder top? That poor man doesn’t stand a chance!”

Lia murmurs her agreement in the background and Dani mentions something about fearing for the guy's soul. You think about the freakishly good pictures you all took in the stylish club bathroom when you first arrived.

“I see your point.”

You turn back toward the bar to review your target. He sips from a dark green bottle as he looks around at the people on the dance floor between your table and the bar. As he continues to scan the room, he locks eyes with you. You hold his gaze even though your instincts are screaming at you to duck for cover. Surprisingly, he gives a small smile and raises his bottle in salute.

"See, you got the hardest part down already. Just fake the rest until you make it."

You chance a look back in his direction only to catch him staring in the direction of the table. When he catches your gaze again, he whips his head away, cheeks tinging pink under the soft yellow lighting at the bar.

Alexa cackles and starts detailing all the drinks she wants made with the top shelf vodka. Lia and Dani discuss leaving early to go back and clean up the apartment so it’s clean in case you break the rules and bring this guy back for the night.

“Uh, aren’t you guys moving a little fast?”

“Aren’t you moving a little slow,” Alexa counters.

“Hold on, Lex.” Dani turns to you. “You know you don’t actually have to do this if you don’t want to, right? Hunter-Gathering is just a game, there's no pressure.”

For all their poking and teasing, you're reminded right then and there that your friends would never put you in a situation where they thought you were actually at any risk. The weight you felt on your shoulders lightens somewhat.

“No, no, I definitely still want to play, I just don’t want you guys to get your hopes up.”

“I believe in you.”

Lia bumps shoulders with you quietly. She’s not the most affectionate, so you know she really means it.

“I’ll do my best.”

You let them tweak you a little bit, fixing stray hairs and wiping away smeared lip gloss and hiking up your skirt, giving you their drink orders, before you grab your purse and phone and push in your stool.

When you finally make it to the bar, he’s in the same spot as you first found him in. He spots you once you get close enough and naturally makes room for you. You set your bag on the bar countertop before hopping up on the empty stool immediately in front of him. The movement causes your skirt to ride up even more and you’re glad you only let Lia hike it up one inch instead of three.

Dani's advice about treating this guy like any other scrub from school reverbs in the back of your head right as the nerves start to set in. With the guys in your art history class, your grade was on the line. There was no room for hesitation when you could barely draw a stick figure, much less write an essay analyzing what an old painting style could tell you about the dairy economy in a certain town like some of your classmates were doing. It was because you were desperate that you were suddenly able to transform into a femme fatale. It also helped that these guys quivered at any interaction with an adult woman.

Tonight's drinks are on the line, you tell yourself. As best you can, you try to trick yourself into entering the same mindset you were in when you would lay on the charm extra thick for the art history guys.

You let the corner of your mouth lift up in a coy smile while you survey the bar. The bartender is moving back and forth quickly to handle the high demand. A second later the girl next to you leaves her spot with a tray of 8 bright pink drinks, practically glowing in the dark. You wonder briefly if you should try to get a round of those for the table.

“—one of those before?”

His voice is deep and pleasant. When you give him a look over your shoulder, you have to suppress a gasp. Up close he's even more handsome. You really have your work cut out for you.

“What?"

"That neon pink drink," he nods back in the direction of the girl who'd taken the cotton candy pink drinks with her. "I was wondering if you'd tried them before."

“No, I haven’t,” you smile, letting your lips part slowly. His eyes dart from your painted eyes to the colored stretch of your mouth and then quickly back up. “Have you?”

“No. But I like to try new things.”

You purse your lips as if in thought, something you've seen other girls do while flirting with guys at school. “You must be pretty unpredictable, then.”

“Huh? Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He stammers a bit and nearly drops his beer bottle trying and failing to put it down. All the intimidation you felt coming from him earlier seems to have disappeared.

“I was just kidding.”

Like it has a mind of its own, your hand reaches out to rest on his arm reassuringly while you continue to laugh at him. His features clear up then and a relieved smile blooms on his face, bringing out an adorable dimple with it.

“You’re teasing me,” he realizes with a good natured huff and steps into your touch.

“You seem kinda fun to tease.” You let your hand linger a little longer before finally pulling it back.

“It’s kinda fun. You're pretty good at it.”

Oddly enough, this isn't as difficult for you as you thought it was going to be. In fact, you find yourself naturally tilting your head and fixing him with an intrigued look from under your lashes. He takes the opportunity to look you over as well, a small smile on his lips.

The personal attention does make you a little nervous despite the fact that it’s positive. So you dig in your purse to avoid looking directly at him for too long and to give your hands something to do. You brush up against a tube of lip gloss, pull it out, and reapply some to your lips.

You look back at him when you realize he’s grown quiet, only to find him following the movements of the gloss brush tracing the curve of your lips, cheeks dusted pink and eyes half-closed like he's in some sort of trance.

Experimentally you press your lips together and then purse them to make sure the gloss is distributed evenly. The man doesn't blink once. Suddenly, all his expensive apparel and large stature aren’t so intimidating.

"Is there something on my face," you smirk.

He slow blinks down at your mouth twice before realizing you're speaking again. His eyes grow wide and he raises a ringed hand to rub at the back of his neck. The movement rustles the hair covering his ears, revealing their pink tips. Cute.

"Just looking."

You laugh a little at him again. He marvels at the way the club lighting dances around in your glossy smile.

"So, how come I've never seen you here before?"

"Well...it's the first time me and my friends have come here."

"I see." He pivots to face you and leans his closest elbow on the counter of the bar. "Are you guys new to the area?"

"You could say that, yeah."

He raises an eyebrow when you don’t elaborate. Without looking away, he raises his hand to signal to the bartender that he wants another drink. When the bartender runs right over, you realize this guy actually might be a big deal. Silently you pull your card out of your wallet as the bartender makes their way over. You figure you’ll have to spend some money before you can really ask someone like him to buy drinks for your table.

"What'll it be,” the bartender asks.

"Two of those pink drinks please," he says and before you can place any order the bartender zooms away.

While the bartender starts preparing the drinks, you turn toward him.

"Who said I wanted the pink drink?"

He grins down at you, a dimple now popping up in each cheek. "Who said it's for you?"

"I'm pretty sure it's for me."

"And what makes you so sure?" He takes a step closer to you.

"Just a hunch," you hum before crossing your legs.

The white fabric of your skirt hikes up your thighs again with the movement. You smooth your palms over the soft material.

"Nice skirt."

"Yeah? You like it?"

"I like it," he admits quietly.

"And the top?" You gesture toward the pair of straps on the matching tube top, manicured nails gliding over your décolletage. He wets his lips.

"The top too."

He reaches out one large hand to one of the straps that have fallen over your shoulder. The drag of his fingers against your bare arm as he fixes it makes you shiver. You lament the loss of contact when pulls his hand back.

The bartender arrives with your drinks then, startling the both of you out of the little staring competition that had spontaneously started. The pink drink seems to glow from within, topped with whipped cream and full of little round ice cubes made from some sort of darker rose syrup floating in the liquid like lava in a lava lamp. The color barely prepares you for the thick sweetness that floods your mouth on the first sip.

"Oh, that's kinda..."

He huffs a laugh around his own first swallow and nods in agreement.

"Not what you wanted?"

"It's just really sweet. You like it?”

He shrugs. “It’s alright. But—"

The way he cuts himself off has you confused for a moment before he's reaching towards you cautiously. You're not too sure what's going on until you feel the pad of his thumb swipe over the corner of your lips carrying away some of the whipped topping from the drink. Your eyes widen when instead of wiping the cream on one of the cocktail napkins available on the counter he brings his thumb to his own lips. In a fraction of a second the cream is gone, but you're left feeling a rush of fluttering warmth on the side of your mouth and in the center of your chest.

"You think your friends would like these?” He slides his drink to the side so he can lean on his elbow and turn to you again. Now's your chance.

“Um, I don’t think this is really their style.”

“What is their style?”

You rattle off their drinks of choice, making sure to mention their favorite brands with a sigh. Of course, whenever you play this game, the brands can change depending on the budget of whoever’s buying. This time, you make sure to name drop as much as possible, per Alexa's request.

“Sounds like your friends really know what they like.”

“Yeah, they have really…unique tastes.” You falter a little under his amused stare. “But we don’t always drink that way. I mean, not every bar even carries all those to begin with.”

“That’s true.” He nods. “This bar has every single of them, though. Pretty lucky, huh?”

“Yep,” you chirp. You’re not sure if you’re in trouble or not because he’s still smiling. He seems to be onto the game, but doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Well, it would be a shame not to welcome you all to the city. Get whatever you want. My treat.”

“Are you sure?”

You place your hand on his arm again and squeeze for good measure. You don’t miss the way his large bicep flexes under your touch. After a beat, he brings his hand up to grasp yours and holds it while signaling to the bartender again. You give him a blindingly bright smile and he strokes his thumb over your knuckles.

He asks the bartender to ‘take care’ of your table tonight on him, and you realize then that you’ve won the game. The victory isn't nearly as sweet as the pink drinks from earlier. The rules prohibit you from bringing him home or going over to his place. And even if it wasn't prohibited, your vacation is basically over.

“Where are you and your friends from?

You take his hand between yours and play with some of the rings on his fingers. They’re beautiful together in an eclectic way and you wonder if someone chose them for him.

“It’s a kind of small city, not like this one. It’s really just our university and then a few surrounding towns.”

“What made you guys move here then?"

"Oh, Right." You feel guilty. "Me and my friends are just here for vacation."

He blinks at you but takes the news in stride. "Well, if you want—I know the city pretty well since I have a place here—maybe I can give you a tour of the town later this week."

"I'd love that, I really would. But we're actually leaving tomorrow."

"For real?” His eyes grow wide and he looks down at your linked hands before looking over your face. You're shocked to see his features fall.

"Yeah, it sucks."

“Damn,” he smiles bittersweet at the floor. “I wish we’d bumped into each other sooner.”

“I absolutely agree," the sound of Alexa's voice rings loud in your ear.

“Uh, hello. Did you need me for something?" Your voice is high and tight as you fix her with an accusatory stare. You're not 100% positive, but it seemed like you and he were having a moment.

"No, babe, I just wanted to come over and show you my beautiful drink. I wanted to come show my gratitude to you both for making sure we have a good last night. The girls will appreciate that. Thank you, kind sir."

“Name’s Namjoon. And no need to thank me,” he smiles at the exchange between you two and sticks out his hand. Alexa daintily lays her hand in his and he lets out an incredulous laugh before playing along and raising it to his lips.

"What a gentleman," she coos before pinching lightly at the skin of your exposed back. It's a clear message just for you, telling you that there's about to be a change in plans. "What were you guys discussing?"

"I was actually about to offer up our booth. There's more than enough room for your table if you wanted to move. Me and my team—friends definitely wouldn't mind the company."

“You don’t have to do that!” You pipe up, suddenly shy. But it's quickly dashed away as Alexa pulls out her phone and opens up the groupchat.

"Let me just ask our friends if they’d like that."

You already know the answer, so you sigh quietly and gather up your card, phone, and purse. You can’t say you won’t miss the privacy from when it was just you and Namjoon, but you’re glad to be with your friends again as well.

The move from your little table to the VIP booth is lightning fast. By the time you get your own drink, Lia and Dani are already clutching their things and vibrating with excitement near the ropes leading to the VIP booth. A few of Namjoon’s friends are chatting with them from the other side of the ropes.

Once your group trickles in, you don't miss how they all arrange themselves in the booth so you're forced to sit on the end next to Namjoon with barely any space. The only options are to let one of your legs hang off the edge of the booth the whole time or sit practically half in his lap. Alexa winks at you over the first sip of her next very expensive drink.

Namjoon's friends are occupied by your friends re-telling some of the more exciting parts of the beginning of your vacation. Some story about how 'someone' lost their top while trying to jet ski. You send a weak glare to Lia as she tries to get them to guess just whose top it was. That's what you get for experimenting with spaghetti strings, you suppose.

"Do you guys like to dance," one of his friends says after a while of vibing to the music once the chatter cools down. Hoseok, you think his name was.

"Yes, definitely." Dani remarks while re-applying lip gloss. "You know who's a great dancer?"

"Who?" Hoseok looks around excitedly.

"She's gonna say me," you groan. "Which is not even true but let’s just all move down there already, no more 20 questions."

"Just one more," she pouts. "Namjoon, do you like to dance?"

He looks down at you once he's also out the booth, that little amused smile back on his lips.

"Well, it's not really part of my day job, but I don't mind it too much."

"What's your day job," you blurt out.

"I'm a...musician."

"A musician!" Alexa rushes over to you to link arms. "Did you hear that? Namjoon’s a musician."

"I don't recognize you," Lia says and Hoseok and another one of his friends burst into quiet laughter behind her.

"You definitely won't find Joon’s pics anywhere, that's for sure," one of his friends says. The rest of them dissolve into another fit of giggles.

The club lights hide the muted pink tinge his cheeks take on, and Namjoon leads the way to the dance-floor with a chagrined roll of his eyes.

"You think he's really a musician?” You whisper to Alexa and Lia. Dani is somewhere up ahead, already dancing.

"Maybe technically. Going off the way his friends keep laughing, he's probably, like, a failed SoundCloud rapper or something."

"No failed SoundCloud rapper wears Gucci like that," Lia motions with her chin to some piece of Namjoon’s outfit.

"That's true," you hum.

"Rich parents," Alexa says simply.

You and Lia consider it and then nod.

As you settle on the dance floor, you feel the rest of your nerves drift away. Lia comes over to take a selfie with you, and the two of you flirt with the camera until she's satisfied with the photos you've taken. She grabs your hand and makes a show of spinning you around and you figure that this is how the night will go before you stumble out around 2 or 3am and drunk pack for the flight home the next morning. You let her lead you back, further into the crowd before you bump into someone.

Namjoon's large hand comes to stabilize you at your waist and Lia acts like nothing happened before dancing away, phone light illuminating her sneaky smile.

"You good?" Namjoon's voice is soft in your ear.

"Y-yeah."

"You wanna dance, or should I let you go?"

Your friends shamelessly all look at the way he curves himself around you, all with their thumbs up in encouragement. You're reminded of the way you did the same a few nights prior when Dani was getting hit on by some cute guy at a different club.

At that time it felt fun hyping her up and watching her make a move, seeing how enamored this random guy was with your friend. Of course he is, you thought at the time, she's amazing. And you remember that this is probably what's driving them tonight as well with you and Namjoon.

You chance a look at him and realize that he's come to rest his cheek lightly near your temple, a soft look in his gaze as he awaits your answer.

"Sure, let's dance."

Namjoon was telling the truth when he said he wasn't all that into dancing. But he put in enough work to be able to follow you and meet you halfway while you were grinding on him to the music.

Even when you shyly stepped away after the first few dances to return to your squealing friends, you loosened up over time with more music and drinks and found yourself naturally ending up on him again. The first few songs turned into more and more and soon you were face-to-face, with his thigh wedged between yours and a heavy palm on your lower back guiding you to the beat.

You're not sure when you decided to abandon your friends and his, but at some point you did return to the booth under the guise of checking your phones. And you did check your phone first. But soon he was crowding you toward the wall by the booth and leaving you with no air of your own.

"You're really leaving tomorrow," he sighed into a bruise he was trying to leave near the hollow of your throat. "Or did you just say that because I was some creep at a bar."

"I never thought you were a creep."

He looks down at you with disbelief before getting distracted by your kiss-swollen lips.

"I mean it. I'm just a little shy sometimes."

"What do you have to be shy about when you look like this, huh?"

"Stop," you laugh lightly and look away from him.

He'd made a comment earlier about how much he liked the pristine white two piece you wore, but you'd been inching his hand up your skirt then. Now, one of his thumbs rubs an idle pattern just below the curve of your breast.

"No, but seriously. Are you actually leaving tomorrow?"

"Yeah. The new term starts for us all in a few days."

"So, leave in a few days," Namjoon whines.

"That's not enough time to get ready for the term."

"But I'll be so alone without you."

He gives you an exaggerated pout that splits into a real smile when you snort at his stupid expression. He pulls you to him just a smidgen tighter then.

"Does this usually work with other girls?"

"I don't know. Never tried it with other girls," he frowns a little at you.

"Sure."

"You know me and the team almost went to Club BigHit last Saturday?"

"Oh, really? That's kinda funny." You try to imagine what might have happened if he'd come to the same club you went to earlier.

"Yeah," Namjoon's voice grows quiet. "If I hadn't gotten sick then we would have met last week."

"Yeah, maybe."

"You sure you can't miss a few days of the term?"

"Yes, I'm sure." You let out an exasperated laugh. "You can't really be this upset that an actual stranger is just passing through your life."

"No, I know. I just—," he lets his head fall forward until he's touching his forehead to yours. "It was like something clicked when I saw you. I feel like I need more time with you."

"Oh," your voice comes out a little breathier than you expected.

The same look that had flashed across his face when you first came up to him finally gets to rest on his features. You want to let him down gently because you really can't play catch up during the first week of school.

"Tell you what. I can't miss the beginning of the term but if you make a song with my name in it and it gets...say, 50,000 listens, I'll buy a ticket that same day and come meet you. Wherever you are."

He pins you with a look then, inquisitive and dark. His eyes scan your open expression for something, before whatever he finds passes the test. He stands up tall.

"And it just needs to have 50,000 listens?"

In your mind you were thinking it would be too lofty for a failed SoundCloud rapper, but something in his tone sounds like he's rising to the challenge and it makes you nervous. You spent a lot on this vacation, you can't afford to actually fly out so soon if he somehow managed to get the listens and call your bluff. Besides, targets are off limits.

"Um, actually make that 150,000. And it has to have my area code in it too." You rattle off the three digits to him and he quickly types your conditions into the notes app on his phone.

"Is that it?"

"That's it, I guess."

"Deal."

Namjoon pockets his phone and leans back into your space. Any worries you had clawing to the forefront of your mind vanish when he presses soft lips to yours once more.

A month passes.

You don't end up having a one-night-stand with Namjoon because it wouldn't be fair to your friends when they'd clicked with a target but didn't take them home. That and because Dani got sick on the dance floor from mixing strawberry daiquiri with one too many pink drinks. But you do pass on your full number after he very nearly begs you to give it to him while packing into a cab.

And then he never used it.

It's not that you were expecting much, but when a month passes with not so much as word from him, you figure he forgot about you and your little bet.

Then 2 months pass.

Even though you know that you only spent a fraction of a day with him, you can't help thinking about Namjoon. Namjoon and his pretty eyes and pretty words that made you think there was some sort of connection there. You realize after the first two weeks back that you don't have his number but by the time 2 months pass, you realize that was definitely on purpose.

4 months pass.

You're over it, swamped with end of term work like finals and grading and putting in hours at work. But every time your friends suggest a little fun and hooking you up with someone, every time someone asked for your number at a coffee shop, you said no. Because you're over it and you're busy and not at all disappointed for how hard you fell for the lies some failed SoundCloud rapper fed you on a vacation one time.

19 weeks pass.

You're all in Lia's apartment, basking in the first few days of the end of classes even if it means finals are a few days later. Alexa is playing her favorite playlist on the speakers and you're taking a break to get some coffee going in the small kitchenette.

While the coffee machine starts up you wander back to the main room. Alexa is leaning over to turn the music up, one of her favorite songs just now coming up.

"Who's this again," Dani pipes up from her spot on the couch. "It's that one guy's collab with the Bulletproof Girlscouts, right?"

"Yep," Alexa checks the song title before sighing. "This song is so old now."

"True, but it's my favorite one on the whole album."

"I guess it really has been two years since his last album, huh." Dani muses and then goes back to her practice problem set.

You try not to laugh at how cute Alexa looks sulking because her favorite artist hasn't put out any music in so long.

"Why don't you just play his new stuff," Lia says.

"He's on indefinite hiatus. This is as new as it gets."

Lia picks up her own phone, showing it to the group.

"He released a new single this morning."

"What!"

Alexa scrambles from her seat to grab her headphones and jam them into her phone. You all know how she gets about her music and let her have a moment to soak up the new song while you get up to check on the coffee.

It takes a few minutes to get cups out and put everything together since everyone has different tastes, so you're in the middle of pouring creamer when you hear a chorus of screams.

"Why are we screaming?"

You rush into the main room again only to be bombarded with music from the speaker, this time turned up as high as it can go. What must be the new song comes through the speaker, the bass vibrating on the ground as the speaker pumps.

"Okay, yes, new song. It's good but I don't get—"

"Just listen to the fucking bridge," Dani's voice comes out incredibly shrill as she cuts you off.

The beat surges for the bridge and suddenly the lyrics turn into the artist growling about some girl he met at the club with the prettiest little white outfit he'd ever seen. Saying something that sounds oddly like your name, although you figure that can't be right. But then the next verse has your name in it too, and the next one, and the next one.

Your feet take you to where Alexa's phone is plugged in and you pick up the phone to look at the song. It's indeed a song by her favorite artist, a prolific and mysterious rapper who's never shown his face and who'd been on hiatus from making music. The song title is simple, a small string of numbers that look suspiciously like your area code.

When you let out a tiny gasp, your friends let out more excited shrieks. You ignore them in favor of thumbing through the music app to the artist's page where the new single lies at the top of his discography. To the right of all his songs are the stream counts. Most of his older songs have a few dozen million or so. This brand new one sits at a modest 4 million, but the numbers trickle up as the app updates them in real time.

"What the hell?"

"I know!" Alexa cries, tears shining in her eyes. "I can't believe we sat in a VIP booth with him and I didn't even recognize his stupid voice!"

"What are you gonna do," Dani smiles widely at your stunned face. "Are you gonna call him?"

"I don't have his number," you say simply. Your voice comes out monotone with shock.

"You didn't get his number?" Alexa starts crying for real.

"People are blowing my phone up about this," Lia says once the song ends and begins again on a loop. "You might want to turn off your phone. It's just a matter of time until people start snooping around."

"Right."

You grab your phone from your pocket. On instinct you scan through your socials one last time before turning it off. There's a startling number of texts, calls, emails, and notifications on your social media apps. Curiosity gets the best of you and you open up one of them only to find your name trending as the top hashtag. Clicking on it brings up a bunch of tweets both from fans raving about the new song and wondering who the muse is, to random accounts with identical names in the handle all claiming to be said muse.

"Oh my god, he tweeted!" Dani shoves her phone into your hands.

As of right now [2:38pm] we're at 5.76 million streams. That's more than 150,000...

"What does that mean," she asks you.

"It means...he wants me to fly out to see him. Today."

"Oh my god."

Alexa screams again and at this point you've lost count of how many that is. Lia gets out of her chair and tucks her chin over your shoulder to read the post herself.

"You need to go," Alexa shouts. "I'll help you pack, let's go."

"What about finals?"

"Are you—are you actually thinking of not going because of finals?"

"I mean—"

"If you want me die, just say that," she does something with her mouth that looks like a manic smile.

"What Lex means to say is that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I'm sure even the profs would understand."

You're not sure what to say. First of all, you still don't have his number. Second of all, you're not sure how to fight through all the other accounts claiming to be you to let him know you saw the song. Third, you don't even know where to fly to. Fourth—

A Twitter notification chimes from your phone and a deadly hush falls over everyone. You go to your DM inbox with shaking fingers only to find a message request from an unknown sender. When you open the request, it's from Namjoon's agency.

Good afternoon,

You are being contacted today because one of our artists wishes to meet you. If you consent to the meeting, please review the flight information and tentative itinerary below and respond with your address and contact information. Please also note that the travel plans are for today [MM/DD/YYYY], so your response at your earliest convenience would be much appreciated. If you would like to go but cannot make it today—

"Do you think they'll send a car or should I book her a ride to the airport now?" Dani turns to Alexa.

"They'll probably send one to make sure the schedule is followed."

"That's true but what about—"

Lia taps you on the shoulder, startling you out of your stupor.

"There's a convenience store two doors down. Whatever you buy we can put in one of my suitcases and you can just take that. There's probably not enough time to go all the way back to your place."

"I—yeah, okay."

7 hours later finds Alexa, Dani and Lia finished with studying for the night. The entertainment channel is playing on the TV and the three of them have their heads bent over their phones and laptops, refreshing all the major gossip sites for updates.

"Maybe she's not even there yet," Dani sighs when the page she just refreshed shows no new posts.

"Yeah, I mean we still don't even know where she is," Lia says while putting her laptop to sleep. "What if they made her sign an NDA?"

"Even if they did, she'd probably still tell us once she got there. She's probably just busy killing time on the plane."

"She's sleeping!" Alexa screams a second later.

"Huh? How do you know that?"

"Check his instagram," is all she says before frantically typing a message to you about souvenirs.

Lia looks over at Dani's phone as she pulls up Namjoon's page. The rest of the layout is bare given his up until recent hiatus and the fact that he never posted any type of selfie. The video uploaded a mere 20 seconds ago undoes all the previous minimalism of the entire account.

The post isn't even of Namjoon. It's a black and white 5 second video of the top half of your naked back and shoulders, the rest of your body covered by the sheets. One of your arms is raised to cover your head with a pillow. The only sign of Namjoon is the arm that reaches out from the bottom of the frame, making it clear that he took the video himself. His hand reaches out to trace a heart over the skin of your shoulder blade. The caption reads:

Thanks for keeping your promise

[potteresque-ire]

Hi! I have been reading your posts and responses to anonymous and I am inclined to comment on your broadly realistic views and detailed analystic answers and let us not forget your ability to be warm in putting forward your opinions. I am truly a huge fan. Thank you for being a station for various answer seekers.

If you have time and patience, please elaborate on the situation GG is still facing post 227. Recently I read various comments insinuating GG copied DD for Douyin night which is absurd but the implication that only one party is still being targeted unnecessarily raise hackles of a lot of solo fans. And I, under any circumstances, DO NOT believe the involvement of the other party. Firm believer of BJYXSZD.

My point is what is being done to stop these antis from targeting GG. Since one of the motive to target GG is to severe the relationship of GG and DD, IMO at least. Does constant attack (external stimulus) on GG (belittling him by comparing him to DD) may have the possibility to effect their relationship (internal reaction)? Objectively yes, but given your perception of their relationship, what is your opinion in this matter, however subjective it may be?

Moreover, how much extreme and sometimes irrational analysis done by bjyx community can lead to harm to both of them especially GG?

Also, I have seen DD being the captain of BJYX in various circumstances but also throwing off people from their old predicted/maintened theories especially in case of Kadians. I am not sure how much to trust these 'candies' since he has a reputation of not giving a f*** of others opinion. So why would he post GG related or non-related content with same kadians. I mean if he posts private content with GG related kadian then why post promotional content with GG related kadian. Does it imply that kadians are related to GG or not or he doesn't care and we are thinking too much. I am not sure what I am writing now, maybe multitude of thoughts poring out here. I am extremely sorry for that.

I do not know whether people believe or not but 1st post by GG yesterday had initials YB in the circle. Not at all explicit, and depends on believers but I felt like he was just trolling BJYX, it may be good naturedly but after his promotional brand picture of shrimp in bunny's hand. I do not know I just felt, dissappointed/bitter/unsure about all of this. I think it is normal to feel this way from time to time even for SZD because along with emotional investment we have rational perspective which is necessary to scrutinize evidence(maybe) from time to time.

I whole heartedly apologize for writing an essay length ask, this is the reason I wanted your patience 😅.

If any other blogger wants to add or comment on this please feel free to do so. Your suggestions are highly welcomed. 🙏

Hello Anon!

I take it that your questions about safety are concerned about the behaviour of c-solos and c-turtles? International fans aren’t likely to put Gg and Dd at any risk. That said, however, frequent fighting among i-fans would likely drain Gg and Dd’s international fanbase, as many fans do not enjoy being a combative atmosphere (I, for one, will run away as quickly as a turtle can run!). Lost i-fans can’t be easily replenished, whether they’re turtles or solos ~ The Untamed, as a foreign language show so beloved that fans are willing to scale tall language and cultural barriers to understand it, isn’t something that comes around often. (stanning Gg and/or Dd does take a lot of work!)

About the arguments. I probably only know about a fraction of them since I do not interact directly with fans outside Tumblr . As far as I can tell, however, recent arguments among c-solos and c-turtles have been ordinary fights, and also, fairly “bi-directional” between the solos (ie. I don’t think Gg or Dd has been relatively exempt from attacks compared to each other). 

These arguments can be heated and some of the attacks may sound vicious, but there’s nothing much to worry about from a safety angle, as they haven’t caught the attention of those outside the fan circles.

The theorising by turtles are also not inherently dangerous. c-turtles have mostly been careful about keeping their discussions among themselves. The only risk it may lead to in the future, that I can think of right now, is the associated YiZhan content on China-based websites (ex. Bilibili, Douyin), which has become fairly plentiful. YiZhan candies used to be relatively obscure given the guidelines of CP fans to keep them among themselves (they call this practice 圈地自萌, literally, drawing a circle on the ground and have fun in it by oneself). These days, however, anyone who’s curious can get a good sense of YiZhan’s story by browsing Bilibili. 

This probably contributes to the continued growth of the turtle population; however, some of this content is created by non-turtles who seek viewership and have little concern over Gg and Dd’s safety. They are the ones who re-upload the BTS, for example, despite the repeated pleas and warnings by the “站姐”s—the superfans who take/purchase these videos—as well as the turtles to not do that. If these content creators go overboard, there’s a possibility that YiZhan content may get caught in the government’s “Eradicating Pornography and Illegal Publications”（掃黃打非) movement. The movement originated in the mid 2000s, and its recent waves have been used as pretext to remove LGBT+ and BL content on line (I will eventually set up a post re: those events). Just last month (2020 Dec), Bilibili has been explicitly named by the government for hosting questionable materials, which means it’s already under scrutiny. Sweeps performed on an entire website are usually broad-based enough that no specific individuals are targeted; however, the government also encourages, with financial incentives, the reporting of specific content and has set up a dedicated website for doing so. While all YiZhan content has no direct relation to Gg and Dd, removal of such content may cause an over-reaction from fans, which can, in turn, lead to accusations of poor fan management by Gg and Dd. Most people will also assume the YiZhan content to be created by turtles.

(Another example of how an alleged turtle mis-step can get the YiZhan fandoms and Gg and Dd tied to the 掃黃打非 movement: a few days ago, a Weibo post showed a photo of a hardcover version of an explicit BJYX fanfic, reportedly sold for profit, and GG haters were calling for an arrest for “illegal publication.” So far, there’s minimal noise on the issue, so it isn’t something to worry about. It can also be fake news, which is so bountiful on the platform and on every aspect of daily life that most die a very peaceful, very well-deserved death.).

Whether fan arguments / theories may affect Gg and Dd’s relationship (assuming they’re in a relationship) … my guess is, not much. Gg and Dd are busy people, unlikely to closely follow their fans’ discussions. Again, I expect effects to be felt only if the arguments get out of hand ~ as in, if they begin to involve the public and/or the government.

As for the question about what is being done to stop Gg being targeted: fan wars are incredibly common in China (as in everywhere else), and Gg and Dd’s aren’t special in that sense ~ it’s just that as turtles, we know about those surrounding Gg and Dd and they feel significant to us. No individuals can stop a fan war ~ all we can do is to not join these wars ourselves.

Personally, I think the international fan base of Gg and Dd, as solos and cpfs, have more chance to achieve peace than its Chinese counterparts — if they choose to want that. Popularity in China is not only quantified (which is likely true everywhere, by marketing departments), but very visibly so. Sales numbers, votes, traffic attributed to each idol are frequently released to the public, possibly to foster competition among fans and drive these numbers further upward. c-turtles’ demonstrated strong performance in pushing these metrics has made them a target to those who wish to have usurp their consumer power. They, therefore, have good reasons to be wary of anyone who try to sway them from their “turtle-ship”, whether to turn them into solos or to lure them into an entirely different fandom. The swaying messages are also not always obvious, not always a direct “your cp suck”.  They can be subtle, many even come from netizens who appear to be fellow turtles, who may say “oh, maybe we (turtles) are wrong” or “we have to be realistic; Gg and Dd will never look at each other publicly again”—messages that cast doubt and sink morale in a fandom that’s already running an uphill battle. Remember: traditionally, CP fandoms are not expected or welcomed to last, and solos have been happy to (correctly) point out that the BTS, the origin of the most solid ���evidences” of BJYXSZD, are getting older by the day. c-turtles can’t expect anyone else to help defend their ship if something happens, given CP fandoms’ lack of respectability, given YiZhan being a real person M/M pairing that is often frowned upon. So it’s understandable, to me at least, why c-turtles are on guard, and occasionally, clash with those who they feel may be trying to take away what they love.

i-turtles, I feel, don’t have that many reasons to fight. We don’t really have other fandoms (for example, the up and coming danmeis—the adapted BL dramas) vying for our attention (and wallets). No one can put an expiration date on the YiZhan communities except ourselves.

Another way to see this is: we—as in, the combined Gg + Dd international fanbase, the solos + CPFs—are lucky in a way the fans in Gg and Dd’s home country are not. Collectively, we’re much further removed from the pressure to perform as fans, which is immense in China with their fan circle culture and fan economy. i-shrimps and i-motorcycles ~ some of you are reading this, I think? (hello!) ~ here are my humble thoughts: the solo/turtle ratio of Gg and Dd’s international fans doesn’t make much of an impact on Gg and Dd’s star status, on the popularity metrics that matter. Our spending power is limited outside China’s borders, and while Gg and Dd likely love us equally as fans, our adoration for them doesn’t really matter much, if at all, to the production/media/commercial companies that control the trajectories of their careers. 

Along this line, the turtles’ “double loyalty” doesn’t have much of an ill effect, because there are few popularity contests here that mean much; few times (if any) when the turtles must face the dilemma of whether to vote for Gg or Dd because only a single vote is allowed; few situations where they have only x amount of dollars and must split it equally between Gg or Dd’s endorsements. There’s also much less cause to worry that i-turtles may draw the attention, or ire of the Chinese government ~ the whole international fanbase is too far away, too spread out to destabilise the regime in any way.

What the turtles do have in common with you, the solos, is their knowledge, their love for Gg/Dd. Knowledge, in particular. The people who know about Gg/Dd are still far and in between—at where I am, at least, and my guess is, it’s likely true for many of you too. Think of the turtles as people who you can talk to about your favourite star in places where few people know about him, can help promote The Untamed  far and wide—many people still haven’t heard of the show, and they deserve to.

For the turtles ~ no one can take away our turtle-ship identity, as long as we don’t give it away. No one can report on the our communities to the government and get them dissolved. Our votes, our spending habits are no one else’s business but ours here.

So, Anon, here’s what I think, and these are all very personal opinions, very personal decisions on how to navigate fandom …

I truly hope that we, as the international fanbase, can try to use this luck that we have. Make our communities not mere copies of their (combative) Chinese counterparts but something different, something with our own flavour, something with more peace and less fighting.

Specifically, I see little cause to try to persuade/dissuade anyone to be a solo/turtle. I find them… not the best use of time. Why? Because frankly, neither solos nor turtles have a better grasp of who Gg and Dd are. Neither solos nor turtles have a truly good grasp of who Gg and Dd are. These discussions are therefore bound to end up with more ill will than conclusions, since both sides are short of facts.

We’re all short of facts as audiences, who’ve all only seen a tiny sliver of who Gg and Dd are as human beings.

I don’t mean Gg and Dd’s star image is fake ~ it’s just that, their star image is their “work face”, and even I, a lowly turtle, must act somewhat differently in my own office. It’s part of being professional.

Gg and Dd’s star image are their professional face, and no professionals worth a salt truly ignore other’s opinions, especially when the profession is being an entertainer whose job is to face and hold the attention of the public. 

This is true for Gg; this is true for Dd.

Social media accounts are also part of Gg and Dd’s professional face ~ whatever is posted on there will be scrutinised by millions of fans, and they know that. The posts do provide some insights about Gg an Dd’s personalities, but they can’t be expected to show a complete picture. No parts of these posts, therefore, whether it’s the content or the kadians, are sufficient evidences for / against any aspect of their personal lives (especially as private an aspect as their romantic lives). Anon, you mentioned promotional marketing materials, and here’s my understanding of them ~ ambassadors such as Gg and Dd have minimal control over their design. The shrimp-holding bunny you’re referring to, for example, is very likely provided by the company.

However, may I also add this? Please try to not think of the shrimps / motorcycles as enemies of the turtles. Millions of people are behind each of these labels, and true for any group of this size, a fraction of its members are bound to be annoying. A small fraction may be awful, even. But they don’t represent the entire group. The shrimps are not only Gg’s fans, many of them have supported him longer than any turtle (since turtle-ship can’t be older than 2018); they’re also the reasons why Gg is in the industry ~ they voted for him in X-Fire. Likewise, a subset of motorcycles have been with Dd since UNIQ; they were there when the Korean ban effectively dissolved his group; they stuck with him when he was attacked for taking on the role of LWJ.

We’re all Gg and Dd’s fans, if you ask people outside the fandom. Remember: few outside China understand why heated arguments can occur between a bunch of shrimps, turtles and motorbikes. (It sounds a bit kafkaesque, just typing it out.)

It’s important not to lose sight too, that Gg and Dd’s social media accounts, where many new candies are found, primarily function as bridges of communication between them and their fans. These accounts do have different degrees of “professionalism” ~ Weibo and the official accounts being more formal, and Oasis, Douyin being more laid back and intimate; still, they all serve similar purposes. They’re not candy generators, or a script Gg and Dd have an obligation to follow to confirm / refute BJYXSZD.

Also: these accounts are accessible and watched by the public, not all of whom are friendly to Gg and Dd.

Re: Gg’s drawing on Oasis. He used the account as it’s intended for—to interact with his fans (the caption of the first draft was an unspoken invitation to shower him with ideas) and maybe, to show off a little (it was a very nice piece of artwork ~ a comment that I, sadly, haven’t seen much of). I doubt he posted his drawing because he wanted fans to carpet-search for traces of Dd in it (even though he probably expected that would happen); I very much doubt he posted his drawing because he wanted his fans to fight over scratch marks or black dots.  

If these fights keep happening, I can imagine a possible outcome. He’ll stop showing us his drawings. His social media accounts will become less and less personal, as they already have.

I’ll share with you my thoughts about candies too, while I’m at it. These are probably not-so-popular opinions, so please take them all with a grain of salt.(Salted caramels? 😊 )

I haven’t looked at why candies are called candies, but I find the name appropriate for how I think of them ~ candies are 1) neither evidences or truth, 2) sweet, 3) treats (non-essential, not like the main course).

The first point is, perhaps, the one I try the hardest to keep in mind. There are posts out there claiming the candies as made-beliefs—generated from edited pictures or videos, exaggerated translations, and their interpretations forced by “guidances” in the annotations/narration. There are also posts claiming that turtles are deceivers, or have been deceived by brainwashers who maliciously created these make-beliefs. A turtle may assume these posts are all lies, all made by antis. 

But, speaking turtle-to-turtle, I’d venture to say this … there’s some truth in the *first* statement. Many candies do, indeed, taste different if their taster returns to the original source—not necessarily unsweet, but less sweet. Candies, remember, are generated by fans like you and I. Same for c-candies ~ they aren’t endorsed by Gg and Dd, aren’t necessarily closer to the truth just because of the relative proximity of their birthplaces to their leads. 

Candy generation is The Tradition of CP fandoms. It’s a celebrated skill, and who doesn’t want to generate a candy that will be talked about, that will be part of the BJYX canon, for as long as the fandom lasts? Some fans are, therefore, also more … efficient in the “marketing” of the candies they generated — in persuading others that their candies are evidences, the truth. “Guidance” photos and videos (which pinpoint the place to watch, sometimes with appropriate sound effects for emphasis) have come about that way, and because they’re easy to digest—especially where language barriers exist—they end up spreading to i-fandoms.

These photos and videos may look more professional / trustworthy, but they often have an additional layer of subjectivity ~ on top of the already subjective opinion of what makes a candy. Translations (of BTS, fake rumours house content etc) also introduce a subjective element. Word choices can significant modify the tone of a conversation; speakers of different Chinese dialects may also have different interpretations of the same phrases. Example: I, as a non Chongqing/Sichuanese speaker, can guess the literal meaning of the “puppy” term Gg used for Dd — 狗崽崽 (gou zai zai) — but I also had to rely on others to tell me how endearing the term is; me being a Chinese speaker actually doesn’t make my interpretation any more valid, or authoritative, in this scenario, because my dialect doesn’t use this term at all. 

It doesn’t mean the people who’ve put in the work have any less-than-good intent; the vast majority of them come from a place of deep love. It’s just that we all carry our own perspectives, and as fans, our strong emotions in our fanworks.

This is why candies are often insufficient as good “points” for arguments, why they fail to convince non-believers, sometimes to the disappointment of some turtles. As evidences, they aren’t objective enough; they’re also often touch upon the assumption that’s mark the fundamental difference between solo and cp fans — the assumption that Gg and Dd are (not) together. Take, for example, this segment from a (polite) ask I got from an anon solo:

All the matching clothes, jewelry, shoes etc. Stopped being valid candy when I realized that the brands have popular stars "endorse" their products. The lightning pendant? Other actors have also worn it. Does that mean they are in a 3-way with (Gg) and (Dd)? Probs not.

Solo anon was correct! Brands have star endorsers, and other entertainers have, indeed, worn the same lightning pendant. The implied argument is also valid: people who don’t care about, don’t even know about each other can wear the same things. Most of us do that on a daily basis with our mass-produced garments.

However, a counterargument can also be made to the statement above, and easily: even the most precious, most beautiful wedding rings (say, from Tiffany!) are not exclusive to the first RL couple who bought them. It doesn’t mean the first RL couple is sleeping with all the couples who bought the same rings afterwards, doesn’t mean those rings aren’t significant to every one of these couples as romantic mementos. More often than not, couples wear matching things not because these things are exclusive to them—because how often can one find things that only exist as a single pair in this world? They wear matching things because they want to see something on themselves that remind them of their significant other and so, as long as the things aren’t so prevalent that everyone is wearing them, they can already serve their purpose.

But you see, Anon, that arguing over this would’ve been a waste of time? Because the solo came in with the assumption that Gg and Dd were not a couple, and the counterargument was made with the assumption that they were. The pendants alone are insufficient to prove either side correct or wrong. No one knows why those pendants ended up on Gg and Dd’s necks, except Gg and Dd and their teams. If I were to argue with anon solo, we can go on and on and on until we’re both left with bitter tastes in our mouths and WWX-red in our eyes, and forget the one thing that really matters: we’re both Gg’s fans.

(We could’ve spent the time talking about how that scene in The Wolf with Ji Chong throwing Zai Xing in the water is ❤️.) (I can’t believe the script waited 30+ episodes to do it. 😂)

This leads to my second point, Anon. Candies are meant to be sweet, and they’re meant to be sweet for you. In Chinese, a term for an expert candy person is a 嗑學家 (the candy-eating in CP fandoms is called 嗑糖 (ketang) ～ with 嗑 ke denoting a specific form of eating that requires breaking something open first with teeth—such as watermelon seeds; a 嗑學家 is a 嗑 (ke)-ologist). A 嗑學家 isn’t someone who can recall the longest list of candies, or spread the most candies around, or convince the most people that the CP behind the candies is real; they are those who can find their own candies in a source material, and be overjoyed by the sweetness of their discoveries without outside help. To me, at least, this term encapsulates the subjective nature of candies ~ what’s right for you may not be right for me and vice versa, and that’s perfectly all right. In other words, there are many candies out there but you’re not required to believe in all of them; instead, you’re free to choose candies to your own liking, compose your own version of the BJYX canon that you love, that you find sweet.

Wait, but you may say. Doesn’t that make my canon fantasy? Yes and no, because candies are based on real events. They’re interpretations, which sit somewhere between reality and fantasy. They’re like … opinion shows on news channels.

But what if I need to convince people of my canon —

Your “opposition”’s canon is as fantastical, and as real as yours — maybe it isn’t, but neither of you have a way to prove it one way or another.

Wouldn’t solos call me delulu, or clowns?

Maybe. But one step outside the fandom, and all of us fans—solo and cpfs—are delulu, clowns.

(That’s why while I’ve used the cpn label, I haven’t called myself delulu, or a clown. Anyone who thinks I have the truth about the love story about a pair of idol I haven’t met from thousands of miles away … the joke’s probably on them, don’t you think?)

Of course and again, Anon, this is only my take! I like candies precisely because I like to watch the real-time generation of candies, which ones different people claim as their own, which candies fall away and which stick around in the fandom over time. As a fic writer, this ship has gifted me with a treasure trove of information ~ what do people think of as romantic gestures, as give-away signs of love? The fun/amazing part of BJYX is that candies are available for so many different answers to these questions. Some people think of longing gazes and sweet smiles; some think of touches that can’t be helped (the many, many, many “fights”); some think of service (buying foods, designing clothes); some think of caring about the other’s well-being (throat candies and dumplings + noodles + crackers); some think of being The Other’s One and Only Exception (Dd being so talkative around Gg, Gg being so … fussy around Dd); some think of expressions through the arts (songs, drawings, dances); some think of grand gestures (the wave heart in the ocean); some think of matching clothes and symbolic accessories (rings); some think of birthdays and anniversaries (314, 622, the first snow); some think of sharing life’s hassles and small tidbits (fake rumour house); some think of … just looking VERY good together. Etc etc.

Some think of a subset of these, some think of all of these…

(Personally, I’m a very picky candy eater. I know about many of them, but only a small fraction impresses on me.)

(Still, I love watching candies. I love watching the joy of people sweetened by them ~ or, when c-turtles exclaim kswl! — the short form of ke si wo le! 嗑死我了! I “ke”ed so much I’m dying!)

This gets to 3), Anon, and I apologise to you too, for answering your not-essay-at-all with an essay! Candies are, to me, treats, and I don’t expect them to come at any frequencies higher than treats do. The reason isn’t because I don’t like candies ~ I enjoy watching them, as I said, even if I don’t eat many of them; the reason is because I don’t expect anyone’s romantic love to leave a trace in everything they do. For example, if I truly find myself in a SZD/SJD discussion re: Gg’s drawing, I’d say the lack of Dd in Gg’s self-portrait doesn’t really mean much. Even if Gg and Dd were head-over-heels in love with one another, Gg doesn’t have to put Dd in everything he touches. Likewise, Dd doesn’t have to present a consistent, or decipherable story with his kadians. This is true for the real-life couples around us too, isn’t it? They don’t perform every single act in life leaving a noticeable trace of their significant other. And the misunderstanding that couples do that — that their romantic lives take over who they are as individuals — IMO, partially explains why people who choose to not to date or marry, people who’re aro-aces, often have a difficult time convincing others that they’re complete humans. Romantic love is, of course, very, very important and can be life altering, but it also isn’t everything about a person ~ especially not if a person who has a career as exciting as Gg’s and Dd’s. Gg and Dd who also have friends, family, (many) talents and interests …

(And lots of ugly icons on their cell phones. Yes, I’m talking about you, Gg. That long-armed Pepe from your 2018 snowless Beijing post will give me nightmares…)

[leviathans-normie]

SINCE YOU THINK IT WAS FUN MAKE ME CRY. I was thinking in something bc I want to fight Lucifer. So, if you want ofc, can you do headcanons of The Brothers, Simeon and Diavolo (Or just The Brothers if it's too much) about this? Like, MC is a writer struggling with writers block and then they starts to write again but IS A ABOUT DIAVOLO x LUCIFER. (And yes, I'm MC) Thank u very much! Have a nice Day! ♥

AHHH SORRY IT'S TAKEN SO LONG. Also if you ever need someone to fight Lucifer, I'm always down to do that 👀

Anyway, have a break from the angst, y'all! You'll need it...

WRITER! MC WHO WRITES DIALUCI FANFIC WHEN HAVING WRITER'S BLOCK

LUCIFER

→He always admired his significant other's work.

→But right now, he just wanted to drench himself in holy water and slowly feel his skin melt.

→They had randomly found their notebook open and then, boom, his eyes fell upon that atrocity.

→When they returned, he was very offended and confused, to say the list.

→He had a million questions in his mind, but the first one was, "You know we're dating, right?"

→MC knew this wouldn't be good for them.

→A lecture would ensue for sure.

→However, they just walked up to him calmly, grabbed the notebook and ran screaming, "DIALUCI FOREVER BITCH."

→Disappointed in more than one ways, Lucifer made note of never mentioning this to his brothers.

MAMMON

→He knew MC's writings could have something publish-worthy in it.

→And that would make him mad money.

→Instead, what he saw was entire pages filled with Lucifer being in a relationship with Diavolo.

→He knew he'd find gold, but damn.

→He could sell it to R.A.D. students in secret, which would increase its value.

→It was priceless.

→He was snapped out of his thoughts when MC bonked him on the head.

→"Mammon, no-"

→"MAMMON, YES"

→Legend has it, Mammon is still hanging from the chandelier.

LEVIATHAN

→He knew his lover wrote in their free time.

→He'd asked them so many times to write fanfiction for him, so it was common practice for him to flip through their notebook.

→Yet, what he found this time, shocked him.

→For five seconds, at least.

→After that was over, he took pictures and uploaded them on Devilgram with the caption: "ROTFL MC's dead after this 💀💀💀"

→Of course he got scolded.

→Like, Levi you snitch.

SATAN

→Homeboy loved the fact his lover wrote.

→He always loved books and reading, so having his partner write was a dream come true.

→Just like Levi, he found out while flipping through their notebook.

→Bold of you to assume Satan wasn't pleased.

→In fact, he made his own additions and even started discussing it seriously with MC!

→If it was gonna piss off Lucifer, he'd go all the way.

→He was this close to publishing it, but MC talked him out of doing that.

ASMODEUS

→We all know this guy knows the most major tea in all of Devildom.

→Upon finding this, he deadass criticised MC about how "wrong it portrayed their relationship."

→Helped MC write the scenes better.

→"There aren't enough sex scenes."

→Lord have mercy on MC's soul.

→He asked for more of it with the excuse of "Lucifer and Diavolo aren't doing such stuff yet so I need something to replace that."

BEELZEBUB

→Was so clueless all the way through.

→If it weren't for a literal scene where they were named by name he wouldn't know what "Dialuci" was.

→But that's all pretty much.

→It is what it is.

→If it helps MC find their motivation, he doesn't care enough.

BELPHEGOR

→Bold of you to assume he didn't suggest it in the first place.

→He's too lazy to write something like that himself.

→But MC was the perfect partner in crime.

→He had them write it and then he tried to read it without sleeping; not because the writing was boring, but because he couldn't help it.

→Definitely encouraged them to publish it.

→But when he heard it was just to shake off the writer's block he was a bit disappointed.

→Like, damn, it could've been the next 50 shades but instead you playin'.

DIAVOLO

→Hoo, boy.

→Ond moment he was strolling at R.A.D., the next he was 3 pages deep into a fanfic about him and Lucifer.

→"MC when are you gonna continue it?"

→"What do you mean it was just practice?"

→Constantly begs them to continue it.

→No one knows why he likes it so much.

→But people's guess is that he enjoys reading Lucifer with its mere existence and the fact that he's read it.

SIMEON

→He found the notebook lying around randomly.

→Depending on the kind of fanfiction, he'd react differently.

→If the Dialuci was domestic and fluffy, he would be secretly feel fuzzy inside.

→If it was angst, he'd question everything he knew. He'd also be extremely concern about MC's mental health.

→Now, if it were smut... On the level of it, he'd pray God to have mercy on their soul. He'd be confused as to why they'd write this about people they know.

→At the end of the day, it's their life.

→If it helped them escape that "writer's block" then so be it.

[jbbuckybarnes]

We need to talk...

I knew that this topic of interactions will come up again, because it has never been talked all the way through, so I had this drafted for a while. So much of this old draft still resonated with this permanently unfinished discussion that I just had to edit it and post it, because I feel like it has to be said and put into one post. We can’t keep starting this conversation and then make it so dramatic that there is no conclusion or compromise. The only reason this time is more mellow is because people have better standards for this stuff due to a pandemic going on. This is written for the MCU fandom, but I’ve seen this go down in different fandoms, so here we go:

Things that are NOT at fault for readers not interacting:

The Readers. Should be clear after asking them again and again. And nothing changing. The readers at large are not at fault for a couple people being demanding or hateful. Neither are they at fault for this website and other social medias automatically putting writers at a disadvantage. They do their best with the time they have in their life (just like writers). And after asking them over months to try and reblog more and not much changing, it should be obvious that it isn’t where the problem lies. At least not 95% of it. NOW:

Things that ARE at fault for readers not interacting:

Pushing them, thinking they owe you stuff, while you tear other writers down saying that nobody owes them stuff. That happens time and time again. To me, to friends, to writers I check in with. Don't expect community to come to you when you don't come to them.

Not putting anon asks off when demands and hate get too much. It’s literally THAT easy when people get nasty. It’s sad for the nice anons, but they will understand. Save your mental health! Save the mental health of people reading that hate on their dash. I don’t know how many people constantly answering to hate I have unfollowed and I’m sure people have unfollowed me for doing the same.

Ego and hypocrisy. You can't say numbers aren't a problem and then say they are. In the same post. AND then also deny it later in some of the cases we’ve seen in recent months. Yes, that happened. In several fandoms where this topic comes up semi-regularly. And that might also be the reason people are tired of this stuff and speak out against it.

The fact Tumblr is only used approximately twice a year by most people. And has a shitty tag system. And a shitty algorithm. You are at an automatic disadvantage.

The fact some of you can't understand that 3-5% of your following interacting is a good and normal rate on pretty much all social media. The bigger you get in followers, the bigger the gap gets between followers and interaction (and demand and hate). There are literal statistics on that. 1% interaction at 10k is still good for a platform you have no power over!

The fact some of the people here call anons *haters* for pointing out that you interact w the same 10 people, making that speace seem excluding, when it's literally true what those people say!? Nothing wrong with only support the same 10 people on your blog, but then don't say that you practice what you preach (cause you don’t). You can’t demand more interaction when you don’t interact more yourself. That is how it works, for anyone, not just people of a certain follower count. If I reblog more fics, my blog gets more clout. Logical conclusion. Works for everyone. You have no time for that? Then don’t expect more back. It’s called SOCIAL media for a damn reason.

Telling people asking for Tumblr advice to interact more to make new friends but being the most defensive/indifferent person once they talk to you in DMs. Yes, that keeps happening and I know it from either my own experience or from others sharing their experiences with me. It’s kinda sad. It’s more of a minor factor in people not interacting, but I’ve seen it enough to mention it.

Making shitposts and personal posts all day and then saying you don't have the time in your life to interact w peoples' writings. Like, drabbles exist on almost anyone's masterlist. 5 minute read, easy support for a writer that might be losing motivation. Not every work has to be written like a novel to be great as hell or “quality proven.”

Oh, and there hasn't been a MCU movie in a while, making most of our readership probably currently not care about the fandom as much. Especially after Endgame ended up being a total opinion splitter.

Bonus: The misunderstanding that pushing shy readers to interact does the exact opposite. Not to start about the fact that we are in the middle of a pandemic at the moment. That means they may not have time to read and you may not have time to write. Normal. Logical. The same reason lots of people currently don’t publish. Don’t expect anything predictable and controlable out of current times.

Bonus: Check how you connect interactions to self worth and worth/fun of your writing hobby. Define what success means for you in this space, otherwise you will never be satisfied. It won’t matter if a post has 1k reblogs, you’ll always want more, because you chase an infinite metric.

Bonus: Maybe take a month to concentrate on community, getting outside of your bubble that you deny but very likely have (I’m not excluding myself from this), and actually improve interactions. Some people seem to have forgotten that when you interact with other writers, they probably interact back. Surprise! Your followers already know your tried and true fanfic friends, they want some new stuff without searching for it. Basic Marketing knowledge, know what your audience wants. If you do this for the interactions you gotta look at it from a marketing standpoint and not a pure passion standpoint. Oh: And maybe they find you interacting in the notes of someone else’s post and become an active follower. Win-Win-Win situation.

Bonus: Community is a loop, a net of interactions. Some people here have clique behavior, sound defensive and/or simply don't practice what they preach. That is not me or anyone else hating on specific blogs (I’m also no complete exception), it’s people trying to tell you that you can’t ask for shit you don’t practice yourself. Nothing wrong with supporting your friends only, but then don’t go around expecting new people to find your stuff. It’s literally THAT simple. You can’t have both!

Bonus: Ignoring some of the ride or die readers that are already there. Some of the people on here wish they had that and it’s deadass taken it for granted by some. Meanwhile I'm sitting here with Serotonin levels like christmas when someone I know reblogs my stuff and my fic gets some clout. Imma repeat myself: If you do it for the numbers, you gotta look at it more like marketing and less like pure passion.

And again: You are on a social media platform that will always put you at a disatvantage. That is not the readers' fault. It's how social media works at this point. If you want as much interaction as you can without putting in more interaction work yourself, simply share your works on here, AO3 and Wattpad simultaneously. Problem solved.

Bottomline: If you want more love on your work you gotta go beyond what you currently do, since it’s clearly not working for you. Reblog stuff from people you don't know. I don't give a sh*t if it's a 5k or a 100 follower blog. Hell, there is the whole 366 reblog challenge and some of you deadass went on reblogging the same people when that’s not really what this was made for. I, personally, haven't run out of new people to reblog, so this shouldn't be hard. Actually take time to talk to people in DM's, it takes 10 minutes in the evening to write a few people a message asking how they are or sending a cute gif. If you want stuff, you have to give it. Not leave it. People have come to me before, telling me "the community doesn't owe you stuff", no, they don't, but they do owe if they wanna be owed something back or even demand to be owed something back. Community is about back and forth. You give, you get. It's work, cause it's a big hobby. If you don't have time, that's cool, but then don't be sad about lower interaction. It’s logical that low activity from you leads to low activity from others in the long run, unless you do something worldshakingly new. You don't wanna look beyond a circle of friends or your go-to writers much? That's fine, but don't be upset about barely new people interacting cause they feel excluded or simply don’t find your work because of the same people seeing the same people reblogging the same works. What's not fine is not seeing how readers are NOT THE PROBLEM.

I haven’t talked to a single person about this that DIDN’T find the posts surrounding it demanding and completely ignoring the arguments some others had...repeatedly. Every single time it came up. Not just once but time and time again, whenever this topic comes up. You want interaction? Interact. You don’t want hate? Don’t give it a platform. As harsh as that sounds, I’ve never felt better on this platform since I put anon asks off, even when I miss the nice anons. They probably understand. PS: Again, this was written a while ago and edited to fit into a more general context now. I hope people can discuss this in a civil, non-judgmental way, because that is how I tried to write this. This is not again a specific person or group, it’s pinpointing what I see repeating for two years on this platform now, in all corners. I’d also like to mention that we are still in a pandemic and lives have never looked so vastly different, so you can’t demand anything normal in this very not normal time. Even if you do it all right, your interactions dropped in the pandemic cause people likely stay away form this platform for mental health reasons. There is so many layers to look at, these clearly aren’t all, but I hope it makes some people think about what and when they complain. Numbers will never satisfy you, they will always leave you wanting more if you don’t know why you do what you do and for what. Anyway: Be nice to each other and me in the notes in case this gets shared! No drama please! Ignore any grammar and typo mistakes, lol. Love ya!

[srose-foxfire]

Damirae - Vet AU

A/N: Hi! Welcome to my page this is my first ever Damirae fanfic, so I hope you enjoy!

-- -- --

“Thank you again for what you did for Titus, Dr. Roth.”

“It’s my job Mr. Wayne. Please stay safe. You be a good doggie, okay Titus? You were the best patient I ever had.” Raven knelt down to pat the great black Dane on his head, he barked at her happily before his owner Damian Wayne click his tongue to signal Titus to follow him. Raven looked up to the young man dressed in a fancy black suit as he gave her a small smile. Both dog and owner exited the clinic.

Not turning her back toward the two girls that worked the reception desk Raven crossed her arms over her chest, “can I ask why his paperwork was thicker than what our patients usually sign after discharge?” Earlier when Raven had come out of the examination room to say her farewell to Titus, she found that Damian was signing off the discharge papers, but he had a bigger stack than what was usually the norm. She eyed the two girls, with a stern look letting them both know she wouldn’t like whatever they were going to say.  

“Girl, we all just added some blank papers with a signature box in the bottom for him to sign!” Roxy exclaimed unashamed she cost the young man much valuable time.

“What for?”

Roxy only gave Raven a dumbfounded look, like she couldn’t understand why Raven would be surprised at her actions, “what for? What for? Girl, he is Damian Wayne! Like the hottest, most eligible bachelor in Gotham! His dad is Bruce Wayne, one of Gotham’s multi-millionaire and owns Wayne Enterprises. I can die happy having the chance to be in front of a god like Damian!”

The second receptionist, named Mayra only snickered before looking up to Raven, “don’t mind her Rae, she just one of those crazies calling themselves a member of the ‘Damian Fan Club,’ but seriously you never heard of the Wayne family?”

“I’m not much for social media or newspapers articles, besides the last nine years I have been focusing on completing my veterinary degree.”

“Well now’s a good time to get out then,” Mayra stated, really hinting on the idea that she should get out more.  

“Sounds fun, but I rather focus on my patients right now.” Raven said as she left them both to go back into the procedure room and look at the animals they were caring for. She had entered the room and looked through various folders they had on the counter, she found the one belonging to Titus. Raven opened the folder and reread his report for what felt like the hundredth time.

Damian had brought his three-year-old dog in an emergency, Titus was shot during a drive by. The poor young man was devastated that his animal friend had gotten hurt and didn’t know what to do. Raven who was on duty when Damian came in holding Titus in his arms, took Titus from him and reassured she would do everything in her power to care for his dog. Luckily the bullet only managed to graze over the dog’s shoulder. There wasn’t too much damage, all she needed to do was clean the wound to prevent any infection and help him get out of his state of shock. As a precaution Raven held Titus for two nights to observe him and make sure there wasn’t any other dangers. Now three days later Titus got to return home with his master. It warmed Raven’s heart that she was able to reunite them again.  

-- -- --

It’s been over a month since Raven met the infamous Damian Wayne. Well Raven hadn’t really spoken to him personally since Titus was discharged. One of the main reasons she kept hearing the young man’s name so often was thanks to Roxy who couldn’t stop talking about him. She would speak of the countless rumors the media had written about him. The girl sounded she was under a love potion of sorts, speaking of her fantasies she had on Damian. Immediately, Raven would leave the lobby of the clinic whenever Roxy would start her fantasizing lectures. To make matters worse Roxy had the audacity to build a small little altar with Damian’s picture cut out from a magazine article with pink hearts doodled around him.Of course, this didn’t bode will with Raven, this was a pet clinic and if their patients ever saw Roxy’s little corner of honoring the young Wayne; let just say they would be losing some credibility that the staff took their job seriously.

Raven was in one of the examinations room, cleaning the counters and all the surfaces to have it ready for their next patient, when she heard Roxy literally scream. “Oh my god!” Raven dashed out of the room as quickly as she could wondering what the hay Roxy was screaming for this time. Thankfully when she reached the lobby room, the clinic was empty, today they didn’t have as many patients as other days. “He’s here!” Roxy squealed.

“What’s wrong with her?” Raven asked, she didn’t care that her voice sounded very irritated at the moment. She wanted to make her point across to her coworker that this behavior wasn’t acceptable at the clinic.

“Damian is back. He is just been standing there for over half an hour.”

“What?”

Mayra who had her arms crossed over the reception desk shot Raven a look before motioning with her head towards the door. “Yeah, I thought he was going to come in and have us check his dog or something since he brought his pooch along. But they are just standing there. See for yourself.”

Raven cautiously moved behind the receptionist counter and shot a quick glance through the glass door to find Damian, leaning up against a light pole looking down at his phone, while his dog sat beside him. Damian was wearing a black turtleneck, paired with a dark grey jeans. God he was very handsome. Raven couldn’t help but continue to stare at the young man, as he glances away from his small screen to kneel before his dog and pet him lightly on his head. A smiled crept up her face when she saw Damian give his dog a most genuine smile, before Titus moved in to lick his master’s face. Raven could see how much the young man loved and cared for his dog. This is why she choice this career, she wanted to be someone to help and care for people’s animals’ companions because these beautiful creatures are part of a family. It brought Raven joy to see Titus was doing well, he will live many years to come along his benevolent master.

Raven sighed and looked back at Mayra and Roxy. “Well pay it no mind, we have work to do. For all we know he could be waiting for someone and that just happens to be the meeting spot.”

“You don’t think he is out on a date?!” Roxy practically yelled; thankfully the glass was thick enough to minimize her cry or else Damian could had heard her.

“Why should we care if he’s out on a date or not? Roxy go back to work and leave the poor man alone.” Raven added.

“As member of the ‘Damian Fan Club’ it’s my responsibility to make sure no harm comes to Damian and make sure whoever becomes his wife is right for him!”

Raven couldn’t believe this girl, she raised an eyebrow at her, “Seriously?”

“She’s serious.” Mayra who was keeping quiet during one of Roxy’s little fangirl phase. “It’s actually a thing. The club exists and all, bunch of crazies like Roxy here that want nothing more than to go to bed with Damian.”

“You witch! We take our role as Damian’s fans very seriously!”

Raven couldn’t help but feel flabbergasted at the little brunette, “Roxy, I have heard you speaking of the fantasies you have about him.”

“Well Raven, we are allowed to dream, aren’t we? Besides I know very well I am not meant for such a handsome prince like Damian Wayne.”

“Go back to work, I am gonna go finish up room 3 and 5. Then check on the animals we have staying overnight.” Raven said as she looked back out the door and found heat creep up to her cheeks when she noticed Damian catch her gaze towards him. Quickly she turned around and walked towards the door that led to the examination rooms.

-- -- --

It was now 6pm and everyone had already left for the day. Raven was busying herself making sure she jotted down any new appointments on her agenda. Afterwards the young vet made her rounds around the kennels. There were a few animals staying overnight at the clinic, she pulled out their files and adjusted them on a shelf organizing so the overnight staff knows which patients needed more attention depending on their case. There was a back door the overnight staff used to enter from. Soon enough Garfield Logan, the supervisor of the night shift had arrived; Raven went ahead and handed him the full reports on their overnight patients. After she discussed what they were monitoring in each of their patients, Raven went inside the staff’s locker room and changed from her work clothes to her civilian clothes. Raven finally called it a night and said her goodbye as she went for the front door with her shoulder bag.

Once exiting, Raven found Damian was still leaning up against the pole, she was grateful he hadn’t noticed her due to the fact he had his gaze pinned to his phone. Though Titus recognized her, as he stood up and started wagging his tail. Raven quickly turned around; locking the glass door, afterwards she then reached for the metal folding security gate and pulled it towards her to lock the clinic. Unfortunately for her, this gate was due for some maintenance and sometimes instead of smoothly sliding along, the bottom part of the gate would always get stuck. Today of all days the damn gate decided to mock her and really give her a hard time as Raven kept tugging the gate; mentally begging it to obey her. She cursed under her breath, giving in to her defeat. Raven pulled out her phone and was about to call Gar to come help her with the damn gate.

“Here allow me to help.”

Her finger was about to press the call option, when Damian stepped from behind her. She looked up to him and just realized how his eyes were a beautiful emerald color, they held so much warmth in them. Damian gave her a soft smile, before handling her Titus’ leash. Raven had to blink a few times to remember where she was before grabbing the leash, as the young man before her stepped up and gave a good hard tug onto the gate sliding all the way across the door. Needless to say, Raven was impressed how strong Damian was, she noticed how his black turtleneck was tight and his tight muscles were begging to be free from the cloth containing them. A light blush managed to creep onto her cheeks at the idea of a shirtless Damian. What was she thinking?! Raven shook her head a couple of times to get these wild thoughts far away from her mind, she then looked up to Damian gesturing with her head to allow passage towards the thick key lock. Damian side stepped, taking back Titus’ leash as he allowed her to open the lock and passing it through the slotted area to secure the gate.

When Raven finally locked the gate, she looked up to the man beside her and gave him a small smile, “thank you, Mr. Wayne.”

“Please call me Damian, Dr. Roth.”

“Then you may call me Raven, what brings you here? Is Titus unwell?” Raven asked as she bend down and patted the dog’s head, he responded back her gesture by licking her hand. His tongue was very ticklish that Raven couldn’t help but giggle, she looked up to find Damian was smiling down at her. She looked away from him when she could feel heat worm it way towards her cheeks, she prayed her face wasn’t flushed that Damian would notice.

“No, he is doing well. Actually…” Raven looked up to find Damian was looking to the sides as he rubbed the back of his neck. It looked cute nevertheless to Raven, she couldn’t help but snicker very silently at the very nervous young man before her. Finally, Damian turned too face her and extended his hand towards her to help her stand up. “I was wondering if we could invite you out to dinner? As a thank you for what you did for Titus. There’s this restaurant down the street that offers outdoor dining… I mean if that’s all right with you and if you aren’t busy tonight?”

“Actually, I had nothing planned for the evening. I would love to join you both.”

- -   - -  - -

That was five years ago when Raven had gone out on her very first date with a guy. The sun was coming up over Gotham’s skyline as she looked out the window thanking the universe for the life she had received. Raven had gotten up just a few minutes before the sun was even up, she was wearing a light blue tank top, with a pair of cotton navy blue very short shorts. Just then she heard a stir come from the bed, Raven turned around to find her husband was moving in his sleep. The covers covering him had slipped down his body, exposing his sculpted chest and abdomen, gosh he was so handsome. He was even more beautiful under the sun’s morning light as it highlighted his perfect face. Even after all this time Raven couldn’t help but blush whenever she saw him naked. Her female coworkers -especially Roxy- at the clinic wouldn’t like to admit it but they were jealous that the fact Raven didn’t even try but manage to bag Gotham’s most eligible and hottestbachelor.

Closing her eyes, Raven turned around again to stare out the window as she continues to hear Damian stir in his sleep. Still keeping her back turned she could hear him groining and moving the sheets to the side as he steps closer to her. Damian walks behind her, placing his strong muscular arms around her waist, then pecks her on her cheek before resting his chin on her shoulder. “Good morning Mrs. Wayne,” he says into her ear as Damian begins to trail the tip of his tongue along her neck down her shoulder, just the way Raven liked it. She couldn’t help but blush at how he addressed her. They been married for over two years and she still felt like their relationship was still new to her, exactly like how she felt five years ago. “How long have you been up?”

“Mm…not too long,” Raven answered him as she turned to face her husband and wrap her arms around his neck. She looked him up and down seeing he was only wearing his black cotton boxers’ briefs. Raven then met his emerald gaze she was so entranced with. He gave her a warm smiled before leaning in and placing his lips softly onto hers. 

The kiss was soft much like their first kiss, when Damian had come to her apartment to pick up Titus after she dog-sat for him while he was away on a business trip. He was acting very nervous and after being decline of receiving the payment he was offering Raven for her service. He muttered something under his breath in another language and leaned forward to steal her first kiss. Afterwards Damian confessed to having feelings for her since the moment they met and asked if she would give him a chance. Raven answered him she started developing feelings for him as well, before she could say anything more Damian captured her lips once again. One thing led to another that they made love to each other that night. Since then Raven knew she wanted nothing more than to spend her life with Damian.

Now coming back to the present Raven pulled away from their kiss and lightly trail her fingertips over his bare chest; tracing a scar that was over his heart. Damian mentioned to her that as a child his grandfather would make him train day and night just to teach him self-defense. Some trainings were very brutal that most of his scars came from his own grandfather’s hand. It saddened Raven the least to know Damian has been hurt by members of his own family. All she could do for her husband now was kiss his healed scars and hope any painful memories could be covered by her love for him.

Raven wrapped her arms around his waist, then buried her face onto his hard chest; slowly pushing Damian towards their bed. When he was stopped by the foot of their bed, Raven let go and took a small step back before pushing Damian to fall on the mattress. Her husband sat up giving her a sly smirked she so loved. Raven then moved closer to him swaying her hips very seductively. She placed her hands on her hips before finding the waistband of her shorts, Raven never once let her amethyst gaze leave her partner’s emeralds. Keeping her movements very slowly Raven pulled down her shorts. Stepping out of them she walked over to Damian who reached for her waist and bringing his wife down onto his lap. Raven rested her knees on either side of his hips, she then gave him a devilish smile before she pulled her tank top off, now only wearing her cobalt blue lace undergarments before him. Raven could see Damian’s eyes were filled with hunger and desire, he started trailing hot messy kisses just beneath her collarbone. Lightly leaving bite marks to signify she belonged only to him, which Raven didn’t mind at all. Damian then lightly started kissing the top of her plump bosom, she knew she was playing with fire when she was seducing him a few seconds earlier now as punishment Damian was teasing her. Raven didn’t know how much longer she could last.

“I love you beloved,” Damian whispered as he continues to caress her skin with his lips. His hands were running circles on her bare back, before resting and gripping her hips.  

Raven let out a moan, before grabbing either side of her husband’s face having his emeralds looking into her amethysts. “I love you too, Damian.” She said softly as she pulled his face to have their lips meet once more. Raven felt an immense happiness consumed her as she shared these moments with her husband. She thanked whatever universe or destiny had made their paths crossed five years ago.

She couldn’t imagine her life differently.  

__________________

A/N:

Hello!! If you reached this far first all… THANK YOU!!! I found many amazing completed fic and ongoing fics here on tumblr and wanted to try my hand with my own ideas to show my love for Raven and Damian. I am currently writing two other fics for a separate fandom but will probably start sharing one-shots of Damirae here on tumblr. I have a couple Damirae fics that are on the longer side, those will be posted on my Wattpad page under my user: s03Rose .Those fics are still in development because they will have a plot line to follow so when I get halfway the storyline I will post little snippets here.

On the side note, I started writing fics for my own enjoyment because I want to be a writer, I have original ideas already started but first things first I must practice my writing to see first if it makes sense and if it’s entertaining to read. Also this was my first ever writing a fic filled with some small ‘smut’, I read fics that were on the mature side and wanted to try my hand at writing these sort of scenes. Again I am no good but practice will aid me. I don’t know when I will upload another Damirae fic since I have work and other ongoing personal projects. Please bear with me but do know I will try to update every second week. Till next time!

--Simona R.

[dean-winchesters-gardian-angel]

You’re Still My Favourite Star

Pairing: Dean x Reader 

Summary: It’s hard to read people when you’re stuck in your head. Both Dean and Y/N are lost in a battle with themselves, afraid to lose the other. Don’t worry, they figure it out eventually.

Word count: 5669

Warnings: what warnings? Probably like fluff and angst.

A/N: Okay okay okay so this is the first fanfic ever really written let alone posted so do what you will with it and enjoy… I guess. I hope to post more but no promises. Let me know what you think. See you on the other side. Unbeta’d all mistakes are mine!

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The pranks had escalated. She feared for her life at this point. Maybe the glitter was a step too far. He had given her a three-second count down and she took advantage, running as fast as she could as she shrieked for Dean to save her. Naturally, Dean pulled out his gun and took stance to protected her. Ready to kill what ever was coming after her, he spots her smiling from ear to ear. She practically jumped into his arms as she giggled. Dean couldn’t help but smile. He’d had a crush — that’s what he chooses to call it because if he admitted to loving her he wouldn’t know how to act around her — on her since the day they had met. He had only grown fonder of her the longer she stayed with the Winchester’s. She clung to him as he chuckled holding her against himself, smiling wildly.

“What’s going on?”

She turned her head and noticed Sam marching over to them, a dangerous smirk on his face, pacified by the glitter on his eyelashes and lips. She faced Dean and in a teasing matter proceeded to explain.

“Dean I don’t have much time. I threw a glitter bomb at Sam and now he’s gonna kill me you have to save me, Dean, we have to get outta here.”

He looked over at Sammy only to laugh before she hit his chest.

“We have to go now!”

“Oh gosh you’re right we gotta go now. Y/N he’s gonna kill you lets go.” He kept up the life or death act as he took her hand and pulled her towards the car before both consecutively hopping into Baby and driving off, leaving Sam in the rear view mirror, arms in the sky.

Y/N and Dean laughed for a solid five minutes before Y/N stopped abruptly.

“Wait, Dean, we ditched Sam he’s gonna be ultra pissed!”

“Nah he’ll be fine he’s probably just gonna hot-wire a car and drive back to the motel.”

“Guess that means we can’t go back to the motel then huh. If Sammy’s there. Might die.”

Dean chuckled and side-eyed her as he drove. She looked up at him through her eyelashes. There was glitter on her cheek, probably from the process of making the glitter bomb. With her sitting in his passenger seat, her hair a little wild from running, a smile decorating her face, and her left leg tucked up under the other, hands between them, she faced him. In that moment Dean felt a surge of confidence, acting more like his cocky self he is around other girls. Generally, he’s more shy around her, taken aback by her confidence and goofiness.

“I guess you right sweetheart, can’t go back there now that Sammy is gonna get you. That leaves you and me and Baby. Where we going.” A smirk adorned his face, accompanied by a wink he sends her way making her smile wider.

“Stop at the next pullout big boy. I want to show you something.” Dean nearly choked on her reply. Not only because of the words she used but because of the way she said it. A hushed sexual voice really, that affected Dean more than he’d care to admit. In a split second, she’s herself again, giddy and energetic, a stark contrast to the sensual act she pulled mere moments ago.

“Do I even want to know”

“Of course you do. We’re stopping at the next pull out so I can show you something you rarely get to see. Or at least I think you rarely get to see it.”

“Do I get a hint?”

“Absolutely.” She paused before finishing “Not.”

She laughed at her own joke and pats a hand on his chest in a reassuring manner.

“Oh come on Dean it’s nothing bad. And nothing you haven’t seen before. Just not often. And that was funny. Relax a little. Just ‘cause our job is heartbreaking and difficult doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the time we have when we aren’t on a case. You gotta learn to relax. Take a breath. Smile a little. You’ve got an excellent smile, Dean. Use it once in a while.” She was tickling him to get him to smile and it had worked despite his better efforts. She was the one person who could put him in a carefree mood and it scared him. Terrified him to no end that a single human being could make him that happy. But she did and she didn’t even have to try. All she had to do is look in his direction, call his name from down the hall, nudge him in passing, wish him goodnight on her way to bed. His life had an incredibly bright light that bounced around, was loud, and unconventional with her temperament. More commonly described as a child, Y/N didn’t care about anything or anyone’s opinion, simply chose to be unconditionally happy. Dean had fallen into an easy pattern with her. She was the one he’d go to with his nightmares and dark thoughts. The one he’d ask to join him on a supply runs just for some company or a drive down an empty road for some space. Essentially, she was the one he had an un-discussed relationship with. Little did she know Dean had been dating her in his head since they met. ‘She has a boyfriend’, that is if you asked Dean for her number or name at a bar.

“There! Right there, Dean! Stop right there!”

He chuckled pointing at the spot she’d chosen.

“That’s not even a pullout!”

“Yeah but it’s perfect just pull over Dean no ones around!”

He did as he was told putting Baby in park on a gravel patch in the middle of the open interstate.

“Okay, now what.” He asked, pulling the keys out of the ignition and carelessly chucking them onto the dash. Dean threw his arm over the bench and turned to her, eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. She didn’t say anything, opting for action rather than explanation as she hopped out of the sleek impala. When Dean didn’t follow she dipped her head back in the passenger door with a wavering bitch face.

“Get your ass out here. Oh and turn the music back on.”

Dean grew a crooked grin and huffed out a laugh before reigniting the stereo and getting out of the car himself.

Y/N was staring up at the sky, eyes shimmering with moonlight and a smile laid softy upon her lips.

“Look.” She told him, holding out her hand to him blindly, which he eagerly took. She glanced at him quickly as he approached her.

“Up.”

And so he did. Just as she said, what he was now gazing upon was nothing he hadn’t seen before, though he was only now realizing how much he’d missed them. She hadn’t let go of his hand and he hadn’t, by any means, suggested she do so. After a minute or so he’d walked back a smidge breaking Y/Ns focus from the night sky and bringing it to him. She watched as he sat on the hood of his esteemed Baby and invited her over with a glance, or rather a nod to the spot next to him. She graciously accepted, sitting closer to him than he’d expected, resting her head on his shoulder. Dean tugged her closer, putting his arm around her and pulling her back so that both of them were comfortably leaning against the windshield looking up.

“Is this what you wanted to show me.”

“Is this not enough. What’d you think I was gonna show you?” She asked with a smirk, looking up at him. Dean didn’t answer, instead smirking in return.

“Dean Winchester, you didn’t!?”

Deans smirk grew to a laugh as he pulled her closer kissing her forehead.

“Of course not sweetheart. No, I thought you were finally gonna show me how you got your beard to look like that ‘cause I mean mine is nowhere near as nice as yours.” He touched her chin.

“Hey! I don’t have a beard!” She giggled profusely, but he had settled down, watching her laugh for as long as he could.

“No, but you’ve got some glitter on that pretty face of yours.” He said as he touched her nose.

“Oh ya I was saving it for later,” She replied sarcastically  “you want some? Here.”

She gathered the glitter from her cheek and smeared it on Deans in a warrior fashion.

“‘We want a touchdown, We want a touchdown!’.” she giggled again making Dean’s heart melt for the 78th time in 2 hours.

“There now we’re matching. Only yours is cooler.” She had painted the glitter on his cheekbones as though he was watching the local unicorns win a football game.

She looked him in the eyes trying to gauge his reaction to her youthful behaviour, only to be met by stunningly green eyes that bore into her soul, a gentle smile on his face as he watched her intently. He hadn’t noticed he’d been staring and she didn’t say anything to deter him. Alternatively, in the heat of the moment, one may say, Y/N leaned over him and placed a tender kiss on his waiting lips. She hadn’t planned this by any means, though she had dreamt of it quite literally. He was her superhero fantasy in a way, or at least that’s how she would describe him. She had never dared allow herself to imagine Dean Winchester kissing back at all let alone in the tentative fashion that was the heaven she currently found herself in. His strong hand cradled her delicate features as he kissed her in return. Before he even had the chance to comprehend the situation she had pulled away and gotten off the hood of the car.

“Oh, gosh, Dean I’m so sorry I just, I don’t even know what that was, I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to I promise.” She turned to him gracefully touching her lips where his lay mere moments ago. Dean was unsure what to say. He wanted to tell her it was okay. More than okay. He wanted to beg her to do it again. But she had promised him she hadn’t meant it leaving him to waver in his confidence. Maybe she really hadn’t meant it. Maybe she felt pity for him. Dean closed his eyes in sadness and anger. Running his hand through his tousled hair he said the only thing he could,

“It’s fine sweetheart, really.”

“So I haven’t gone and ruined our friendship in one fell swoop.” Y/N was breathing heavily desperate to fix what she believed she had nearly lost with a single stupid action.

Dean could feel his heart tighten in his chest, his eyes grew watery as he struggled to get his next words out.

“No, we’re just fine, don’t you worry about that.”

There was a pause before Y/N spoke hoping to alleviate the tension.

“Maybe we should just head back, hey Dean? Sam’s probably wondering where we went anyway.”

‘Stay with me. Be with me. Kiss me again, but this time don’t pull away, don’t apologize. Let me hold you again. Let’s look at the stars together and you can point out all your favourite while I watch your eyes scan over the sky. And then when you turn to me asking what my favourite star is, I’ll tell you I’m holding it. Tell you my favourite star is the brightest one I’ve ever seen, tell you that you are my favourite star, my favourite good morning my favourite goodnight. Favourite smile, laugh, voice, hug, hand to hold.’

Instead, he turned back to the car and got in without a word. If only he could bring the words in his head to the tip of his tongue. If only he could tell her the truth. Y/N knew they were going to have to talk about it but she feared the outcome of the conversation. Expecting Dean to never want to speak with her again. She had ruined the only relationship she had ever truly cared about.

The drive back we sparse of noise, save for the Zeppelin tape playing quietly on the stereo. Neither had dared make a sudden movement such as to turn off the tape, both relishing in the lack of conversation. Y/N had stolen a few glances at Dean noticing his big glossy eyes, wanting to explain herself and apologize once more, but refrained from doing so. It hurt her to see him this way though she didn’t understand. When they arrived at the motel, Dean parked Baby in front of their shared room, cutting off the engine. Neither one nor the other moved from their spot in Baby’s upholstery. Dean sat with his hands in lap staring down at them, too afraid to look Y/N in the eyes fearing that if he did he’d lose control; either kiss her without hesitation or break down and cry all the tears he’d been holding back. Both options were ones he’d like to avoid, and so without a word, he began to reach for the door handle just as she spoke.

“Dean, I’m really sorry, can we just forget about it please?”

“Would you stop apologizing!” He’d scared her, he could see it now as he’d turned to her with his outburst. Y/N had slumped down in her seat leaning against the door, arms over her body in hopes of shrinking and sheltering herself. Dean’s rage and unanticipated movement had shaken loose the tears that had been desperately clinging to his eyes. Sam opened the door to the motel emerging in his PJs no longer covered in glitter. The minor distraction had allowed for Y/N to slip out of the car and past Sam into the room.

“Dean? What happen, did I cock-block you.” Sam was laughing at the situation missing the tension between his brother and the girl he knew Dean had loved since she had burst her way into their life. “I heard the car pull up but no one came in so I came out to check and—“ Dean didn’t answer his little brother, shoving passed him into the room after locking Baby up for the night.  

The rest of the evening was filled with questioning glances from Sam and in return; angry and sad one from Dean and Y/N respectively. Dean took the couch mostly because he had already fallen asleep on it as had Y/N on the bed. When Sam was sure his brother was lost in his slumber, he proceeded to wake the girl that lay on the bed across from him. As she stirred he whispered at her pulling her from rest.

“Y/N? Wake up. We need to talk.”

Those words startled her awake, calling for Dean, thinking he was the one waking her to tell her that she couldn’t stay with them any longer.

“It just me Y/N relax. What happened to you guys, you ran off like a pair of giddy kids and came back the complete opposite. Explain.” “Sam, really, nothing happened. It was a stupid little mistake, I wasn’t thinking and made a mistake. It was an accident and now Dean is thoroughly pissed with me. I’ve tried apologizing but he yelled at me not to, so there isn’t much else to do. Tomorrow he’s gonna tell me to leave and I will. I don’t want more conflict than I’ve already conjured.”

“Okay first off; you’re both children, I don’t know what you did but considering no ones dead or injured he’ll get over it. Secondly; he’s not kicking you out ‘cause if he does I’m going with, just to prove how stupid he’s being, so that won’t happen, you don’t have to worry about that. And thirdly; would you just tell me what you did so I can better assess the situation?”

“I kissed him. We were looking a the stars and I — I looked at him and he was smiling at me and he looked happy and the feeling of him being happy in that situation, with me in his arms just the two of us, not a soul to be seen, it was overwhelming and I leaned over and kissed him without even thinking of how he might not want me to. About how we’re friends and I could ruin everything we have. I immediately jump off and apologized though, I thought I could still save that sliver of friendship I hadn’t destroyed but I was too late.”

Sam was chuckling as he hung his head shaking it.

“Sam it’s not funny. I can’t lose him, I can’t lose either of you.”

“He is such an idiot. Y/N was it spur of the moment, or have you liked him for a while. I wasn’t just a one-time thing was it.”

“That’s not the point Sam, I sacred him and ruined everything…”

“Scared him; yes, but he’s afraid of flying so that’s nothing special, ruined everything? Never, at least not with a kiss. And… that is the point, isn’t it, you like him that why you kissed him… I’ll talk to him”

“No! You can’t! If you do he’ll know I told you and that would just make it worse. Like I’d rather talk to his brother than him.”

“Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll just ask him what happened I won’t mention anything you told me. Promise. Go back to sleep, we can deal with this in the morning.”

With that, she laid her head on her pillow and did her best to drift back into the sleep she had been pulled from.

When Y/N awoke the next morning, Sam was only just putting on his running shoes. She glanced at the clock and groaned in response to the early hour.

“Morning Y/N.”

“Morning Sam.” She replied as she flopped back onto the bed. “You going for a run?”

“Yeah, should be back before he wakes up so…” He nodded in his brothers direction, huffing out a laugh at the uncomfortable-looking position Dean lay in.

“I’ll be fine Sam, don’t rush.”

Sam only nodded in acknowledgment waving at her as he closed the door behind him. Y/N took the morning slowly, inching out of the bed as quietly as she could to prevent waking the sleeping body. Y/N strode over to the coffee machine and set it up, turning it on only to jump and the loud noise it made. Her heart was racing as she bent over, bracing herself on her knees doing her best to calm her breathing. She instantly remembered Dean and looked over to see him tucking his gun back into his folded pants on the coffee table next to him.

“Sorry, Dean…”

“I told you to stop apologizing.” He sat on the couch rubbing the sleep from his eyes, sniffling a little. He glanced at the clock groaning at the early hour. If she hadn’t had just been startled she would laugh at the similarity of their actions which in turn would have made Dean happy because when she’s happy, he’s happy. But she didn’t.

“I was saying sorry for waking you up, not the k— not last night.”

“Right. Sorry…” Dean looked around the room noticing his brother wasn’t around to be a buffer. “Sammy go for his run?”

“Yeah, left maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago?”

“Great.” Y/N could only hear his word in a sarcastic tone making her think the worst. Dean got up as Y/N finished up making the coffee, making his way to the bathroom. He passed her in only his underwear and shirt, such were his PJs, jeans under his arm, running his hand over her shoulder and back, a customary occurrence with the two of them, though she had been on edge ever since the kiss, making her flinched under his touch. It didn’t go unnoticed as he looked at her. She opened her mouth to apologize again but before she could get the words out he snickers with a hand dismissing her ’sorry’ as he walked away. Dean entered the bathroom looking himself in the mirror momentarily. Cursing himself under his breath. He put on his pants and went to reach for the cups that were usually supplied at a motel only to remember that they had been placed by the coffee machine outside. When Dean opened the door he hadn’t expected to see her crying at the table with her cup of coffee, in fact, this was the first time he had ever seen her cry. She was always happy, always smiling or laughing, and most often both. It broke through the shell he had built up by trying to ignore her. Instantly, Dean rushed over and called for her, kneeling down next to her chair.

“Hey! Y/N, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” As if Sams timing had a grudge against the eldest brother, the long-haired goon walked it all hot and sweaty from his run. Noticing Y/N right away his first reaction was to blame his brother given what Y/N had told him the night before.

“Dean, what did you do to her!?”

“What did ‘I’ do to her!?” He got up, facing his brother, his hand still on Y/N shoulder as she watched the brothers interaction. “Why do I always, always get the blame!” With that Dean grabbed his jacket his keys and his boots, walking out without even putting them on. Seconds later the sound of Baby turning over engulfed their ears followed by burning rubber, then silence. Y/N got up and followed Deans actions grabbing her jacket and boots though she put hers on before marching out to god knows where.

“Man those two better talk to each other before I rat ‘em both out.” Sam mumbled to himself before taking a shower and a coffee.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dean drove and drove and drove for hours trying to work out a way to tell her, trying to work out her reaction to his confession. At the rate they were at now it seemed as though he was bound to lose her whether he spoke to her or not. He figured he was better off explaining himself and his reaction and lose her, then ironically driving her away with the fear of losing her. That was it, he had decided, he was going to go back to the motel and tell Sam to go for a walk so he could talk to her. With a plan in mind, he returned to the parking spot he was pulling out of earlier that day and making his way to the door dividing him from his future.

Meanwhile, Y/N walked. She hadn’t stopped, not realizing how long she had been walking until she lifted her head as her feet grew tired. She wasn’t far from the edge of town, no far off from where she had stupidly kissed him the night before. She laughed at her self conscious that had lead her here. She’d be at the spot in just under an hour had she kept walking but she was tired and rightfully so. Y/N spotted a bench in the park off the interstate and took a seat leaning her head back as she watched the sunset over the valley of kids on the playground. She’d had plenty of time to think between shops she’d stopped in to either look around and take her mind off things or find something to eat. She had established in her mind that whether she or Sam liked it, it was inevitable that she would be kicked out, if not she’d leave on her own. Y/N no longer wanted for Dean to be mad at her and so that was what she would do. She would move on, she had come to terms with that. But she wouldn’t leave without explaining herself to him first. She didn’t want to leave him in the dark anymore. As she pulled out her phone to call them for a lift — she wasn’t the biggest fan of walking back right now — she noticed the 13 missed calls from both Sam and Dean. Guilt washed over her but before she had the chance to call them back she heard the familiar purr of Baby’s engine. Y/N lifter her gaze from her phone to the tired and puffy eyes hanging out the window of the ’67 chevy. With one arm out the window he gestured for her to come over and she did. As she approached the car she held up her phone.

“Sorry, I was so in my head that I—“

“Y/N. Stop. Stop apologizing.” This time he wasn’t angry “Just stop apologizing and get in. We need to talk.” Dean was smiling shyly but his words had confirmed her notion. With shaky hands and a nearly defining pulse, she opened the passenger door and got in.  

“When I got back to the motel, Sammy asked me if you were with me and I panicked. We tried calling you but you wouldn’t pick up so I had Sammy track your phone.” Dean answered her unvoiced question as he pulled away from the curb, driving out of town.

“Where are you going the motels behind us.”

“I told you; we need to talk.”

“Yeah, but…” she didn’t want to argue with him more than she already had and so she turned back towards the open road he’d started on.  

He drove until he reached the gravel patch they had stopped at less than 24 hours ago.

“Dean I—“

“Wait just, Y/N I have to tell you something and I—“

“I need to go first, Dean. Please.” Dean nodded bracing his heart for the worst as they faced each other. It took her a minute to find the words, licking her lips when she would try to talk only to bite it back along with the words. Dean waited patiently because deep down he knew, or so he thought, how this would end, and the longer he had with her, even in the silence they sat in, was better than the anticipated ending.

“Dean, I’m sorry—“

“Sweetheart I already told you—“

“No, Dean just let me finish please I have to say this and if I don’t it’s just gonna eat away at me and I don’t want that.” Her eyes were squeezed closed half expecting another outburst half expecting herself to implode.

“Okay.”

“Dean Winchester, I’m sorry for kissing you and making a mess of things. I know I shouldn’t have done it, I know I should have thought before I did anything stupid but evidently, I didn’t. It was impulsive. It just felt right in the moment with you looking at me, holding me against your warm body in the cold air I— you looked happy and part of me wanted to believe that I was the reason for the smile on your face and that same part of me was the one that made me kiss you. I wish I could say it was an accident but, honestly Dean, I’ve been dreaming about that kiss since about a week after we meet. I’m sorry I flinched after you touched my shoulder this morning. I just had it in my head that you were mad at me and I was already on edge Dean, it wasn’t ‘cause it was you. I was crying this morning because I thought you were going to kick me out and I really didn’t want that because you and Sammy are all I have.” Y/N was on the brink of crying for the second time today and she moved to exit the car abruptly. Dean followed her out just as fast wanting to console her but also to tell she has nothing to worry about. “I’m sorry I messed things up and I understand if you want me to leave. In fact, if I had been smart enough when leaving the motel after you this morning, I’d have brought my bag with me.” Her body shook as her tears blurred her vision of the man that stood in front of her. Had she been able to see him clearly she would have noticed his broken demeanour and the hurting expression on his face but alas.

“Are you done?” She could hear him choke back a sob and she looked up wiping her tears away with her sleeve as he did the same the one tear he let slip. All she did was nod.

“My turn then. I wasn’t the one to pull away from that kiss Y/N you were. You’re the one who freaked out right away. And then you went on saying you didn’t mean to. You know how that made me feel? Like you pitied me. Like I wasn’t someone you’d actually kiss. You were right though, you were the reason I was happy Y/N, you’re always the reason I’m happy. I wanted to tell you there and then that I love you that I wanted you to kiss me again but you — you were too concerned with saving our friendship. And I was too concerned about my own pride to tell you those things only to get rejected by the only one I’ve ever genuinely care about.” He looked down to his feet which he’d now focused on in between small glances at her or their surroundings, no longer able to hold her gaze. He knew he had to look at her now though. If anything was going to happen, it had to be initiated with eye contact. When he finally laid his eyes on her all he wanted to do was hold her, wipe her tears away, tell her everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t, not this time, because this time he was the reason she’d been crying, though she’d stopped, and he knew that.

“You love me?” Accentuating her words as she pointed to Dean and then herself, hand still visibly shaking. He didn’t dare break eye contact as he nodded his reply and she nodded in return, processing his admission. She sniffled a little more wiping more at her eyes still nodding slightly unsure of how to proceed.

“You love me.” She said again and this time Dean laughed out a ‘yeah’ also wiping away the remainder of his tears.

“Okay, so Dean here’s the deal,” he looked at her with fear in his eyes still expecting rejection “I’m gonna kiss you again because I really want to and not because I pity you because you’re someone I want to kiss. And this time I’m not gonna pull away and apologize. Okay?” He nodded again and with shaky legs Y/N stepped forward and grabbed onto his collar pulling him closer. She placed her lips on his as her heart raced out of control. Dean kissed back instantaneously but took a few seconds to get his hand to move around her waist. The kiss wasn’t greedy or rushed rather desirous and mindful. Dean practically stumbled back taking her with him until his legs hit the car they had piled out of. Dean sat on the hood breaking the kiss to both catch his breath and to hold her closer, enveloping her in his embrace. He sat there hugging her closely as long as he could only pulling away a smidge to look her in the eyes to answer her question.

“You okay?” His eyes were on hers as he nodded.

“I’m sorry I made you cry. You never cry you’re always happy and then I come along and make you cry.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek as he whispered to her. She chuckled at him.

“You think I’m always happy?”

“Every time I see you you’re grinning from ear to ear.” He tucked some loose locks behind her ear.

“Dean, I’m ‘grinning ear to ear’ when I see you. I’m not always happy. Sure I may be more optimistic than some but I’m hardly always happy. You’re the one who makes me happy. I’m happy when you’re around.”

“Really?!”

“Don’t sound so surprised Dean.” But he was surprised. Never could he imagine being the reason for someone else’s happiness. He looked at her and blushed.

“You’re blushing.” She smiled at him gracing his cheek with her delicate touch. Dean dropped his head to her shoulder in an effort to hid it and laughed into her jacket. Y/N pushed him back against the car and hopped up next to him leaning against him the same way she had the night before. Y/N looked back up to the sky and once again Dean watched her. She turned in his grip and looked at him, the same look on his face, smile and all, as the night before.

“You look happy.”

“It’s because of you.”

This time when she leaned over him and finally made contact she could feel him kiss back. Last time she had been too caught up in her own actions to register his response but this time she knew. This time she didn’t spring off him, didn’t apologize. She would tell him later that night that she loved him in return but for the time being, she cozied up into his body as they both look up at the sky. She pointed a few out, earning a chuckle here and there for her explanation and reasons she like those particular ones. Just as Dean played it out in his head the night before she turned to him. But what she said wasn’t what his mind had conjured up for him.

“But at the end of the day, you’re still my favourite star, Dean Winchester.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[sailormoonandme]

Why I think Sailor Moon lends itself so well to fanfiction

It’s no secret that there is a very active Sailor Moon fanficiton community.*

Whilst every fandom has its fanfic authors in my experience Sailor Moon fanfiction proportionally forms a far larger part of the fandom than in many other fandoms, the only exception I’ve encountered would be say Harry Potter. I do not for example find as many people posting or discussing fanfiction within Power Rangers, Lord of the Rings, Marvel, DC or Doctor Who circles.

Oh, there are plenty of people who talk about ideas and concepts they have. But there seem to be far fewer actually making stories themselves, or at least willing to post/share them, nor even discuss making them.

Why is this?

Well, I’m sure there is a discussion to be had regarding fanfiction, female authors, female audiences and obviously that’d tie into how Sailor Moon is primarily aimed at (and enjoyed by) a female audience.  

But I’ve not really researched that so I don’t feel confident enough to dive into it.

To me though, when we break down the nature of Sailor Moon’s story, I very much feel it practically encourages fanfiction and taps very directly into the sort of things fanfiction writers and readers seem to like.

One stereotype of fanfiction that, in my observations, is absolutely true is that there is A LOT of romantic and/or sexual content. In fact it’s an open secret that professional erotic fiction pales in comparison to the breadth, quantity and quality of fanfiction ‘smut’.**  

One might argue ANY story that features romance in it is therefore ‘encouraging’ such fanfiction. But the situation with Sailor Moon is a little different as romance is utterly baked into its foundation. The first story arc, initially intended as the entire story, revolves around Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask’s relationship. Between the manga and the anime the love life’s of almost every single major character is touched upon one way or the other. Minako’s affections for Allan. Rei’s disdain for men in the manga and romances with Mamoru and Yuichiro in the anime. Makoto’s sempai and her tragic string of men even vaguely similar to him. Ami and Ryo’s relationship in season 1 and her shyness about anything romantic thereafter. Even side characters like Reika, Motoki, Unazuki, Umino, Naru, Nephrite, Zoisite and Kunzite make their love lives at least discussed.  

Then of course you have Haruka and Michiru, who’s relationship also clearly hints that they’ve become physically intimate.  

Often with more sexually explicit fanfiction the authors are diving into parts of the characters’ lives rarely even discussed (if at all) in the original canon. Whilst Sailor Moon’s focus upon romance made sex a logical leap, the show plays a Hell of a lot with innuendo, symbolism and subtle hints to the point where it was giving fic authors plenty of ‘ammo’ to work with already.  

This of course extends into the realm of queer pairings. Another stereotype of fanfiction (and again, I’ve not really researched this so I dunno how true it is) is that they engage in romantic or sexual stories where the characters have a different sexualities from their (apparent) canon ones. Perhaps the most famous (infamous?) example is Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Between Haruka and Michiru, Mamoru and Fiore, Zoisite and Kunzite and implications a plenty in the manga and anime (especially under Ikuhara’s rule) writing the characters as interested in people other  than the opposite sex was a relatively easy and believable leap, hardly even breaking the verisimilitude of the canon.

Speaking of verisimilitude, Sailor Moon…didn’t make sense. I love it and adore it but we all know this is true. Even beyond the mindblowing miraculous magic it employed there was more than several instances where characters did not behave realistically or even consistently. Contradictions in the anime especially were rife.  

Regardless of what that does or doesn’t say about the canon, for the purposes of fanfiction, this is something of a boon. It enables all sorts of wacky riffs and directions that aren’t going to create too large of a cognitive dissonance for the writer nor the reader.  

Want to write a story that wouldn’t be realistic? So what? This was the story where the world almost ends but society is never fundamentally changed.  

Want to write a story with elements that’d be anachronistic So what? Our heroes were named after planets that didn’t get those names until thousands of years later.  

Want to do a story that unfortunately would contradict a canon fact or canon characterization?...Have you watched SuperS…?

The flipside to the messier parts of the canon is that it equally encouraged some authors to engage in fix fics, to address what they felt were problems with the characters and narratives.***

It’s very much a getting your cake and getting to eat it too situation!

Additionally, the ‘monster of the week’ format for the show enables all sorts of wacky riffs and spins to be imposed on the characters and narrative since these monsters each had their own gimmicks. Body swap characters? Make them shrink? Make them evil? Alternate Universe? Space travel?  

Ostensibly anything and everything is on the table for fic authors to work with, just as it was for the official creators of Sailor Moon.

Alongside the ‘monster of the week’ format, the innate concept for Sailor Moon encourages the creation of original characters. There is no end of stories about ‘Sailor Sun’ and ‘Sailor Earth’ of course. But since any planetoid, celestial body or what have you in theory could have a Guardian authors could go nuts, drawing upon real list astrology or simply invent their own planets for whatever story they are doing. So the story is ripe for world building and expansion!

However, things need not go to that scale. Sailor Moon, especially the anime, revolves around the everyday lives of teenaged characters. Their ages means authors have the opportunity to write the characters growing up or having grown up and take them in any direction they like and again not create too much of a cognitive dissonance with the canon. And they can do that by drawing upon their own life experiences fairly easily without having to consider what the first day of college might’ve been like for someone on Middle Earth or whatever.

Furthermore, because romance was baked into the story, there was a greater focus in the stories upon the characters internal thoughts and feelings. This wasn’t strictly about their romantic feelings, but my point is a good 2/3 of your average Sailor Moon episode will be taken up with slice of life stuff before the Senshi go into action.  

Why is this relevant? Because that kind of internal exploration lends itself far better to the prose format than action set pieces, especially action set pieces trying to emulate those of a visual format like a manga or an anime.  

All the above actively encourages the creation of fanfics but there is aso something deeper going on.  

After all, plenty of movies leave room for characters to be expanded. Plenty of manga offer opportunities for world building. Plenty of TV shows make the creation of original characters a synch. Plenty of comic books have contradictory continuity that warrants patching up. And romantic elements are present in the overwhelming majority of fiction, even fiction that isn’t predominantly about that.

What makes Sailor Moon a particular strong candidate for fanfiction though is that it has all those things whilst also having strong concepts, endearing characters and a rich mythology to hook people in the first place.

In other words, the fact that Sailor Moon was good made people love it. And that love I think is the essence of why they wanted to read and produce more  of it.

*For the purposes of this post you should understand that by ‘fanfiction’ I’m specifically referring to prose fanfiction, i.e. the stuff you’d find on FFN and predmonantly on Ao3. Obviously audio plays, comics, art, cosplay performances can all fall under the label of fanfiction to one extent or another. And in some cases these are far more prevalent than prose fanfiction.  

E.g. there is plenty of fan art in the Marvel fandom and there is a frightening amount of audio based Dr. Who fanfiction.

**Even I know that and I do not typically care for that type of stuff myself.  

***Or expand upon characters they felt there was more to do with. I know many people who feel that way about the manga versions of the villains and the Senshi (sans Usagi), the anime version of Mamoru and the supporting cast like Usagi parents.

[luckystarchild]

I was discussing this with my writing group earlier and decided that I wanted to collect some more opinions on this, so what're your thoughts on reviews that start out with "I don't really like oc-driven/centric stories, but―" or reviews worded to a similar effect/to the same tune? Personally I just don't find them to be as much of a compliment as the reviewer thinks it is, and wish people wouldn't preface a review with such info.

Soooooo there’s a lot to unpack here. I’ll do it in stages. Sorry if this is more than you wanted... I take asks too seriously sometimes. XD

Why do these types of reviews feel insulting?

The reason these kinds of reviews might not feel so great to the recipient is because they pair a compliment with a qualifier. And combining a compliment with a qualifier is how you structure a backhanded compliment.

Example of pairing a compliment with a qualifier, AKA a backhanded compliment: “Your old haircut was terrible, but your new one is much better.”

The “but” is key here. The compliment-giver said something nice about your appearance, yes, but now you’re walking around feeling badly about the last ten years of your old hairstyle, wondering if everyone who looked at you while you had that old haircut was calling you ugly behind your back.

When someone says, “Normally I hate stories like yours, BUT...” they’re using the structure of a backhanded compliment to pay you a (hopefully legit) compliment. They’re calling you an exception. You’re writing something that’s normally terrible, but you managed to squeak by with something acceptable (against all odds).

Even though you’re an exception, you’re left wondering if other people hate your story because of its sheer concept just like the reviewer initially did. And because they used the structure of a backhanded compliment to express their feelings, you’re left feeling like you did indeed receive a backhanded compliment, even if that wasn’t the reviewer’s intention.

After all, the recipient of a review can’t read a reviewer’s tone. All they can see is how the review was structured, and when the reviewer used the structure of a backhanded compliment, that’s what the recipient feels like they were given.

By pairing the positive with a negative, the reviewer has potentially cancelled out the good, leaving the recipient to focus on the bad. And since humans are hardwired for negative bias, it’s no wonder many people come away from a compliment + qualifier feeling like they’ve been insulted instead of complimented. They can’t help but focus on the bad more than the good, the insult more than the compliment.

What are reviewers REALLY trying to say?

Next we should discuss what reviewers are actually trying to say when they leave reviews of this kind. There are two possible scenarios to consider.

Possibility #1: They’re legitimately trying to pay you a compliment, but they aren’t thinking about how you’ll receive it or what they might be inadvertently implying by using the structure of a backhanded compliment. They actually, truly believe that you would want to know that you are an exception to their reading rules, and that this fact is a high honor. You’ve done something so well, they don’t even care what genre your story is! Your work is great, and the fact that they’d normally hate it due to its genre is AMAZING. You’ve changed their minds about a genre! You defied expectations! They were determined to not like your story, but it’s too good! You broke through their preconceived notions of what they like and MADE THEM LIKE SOMETHING with your writing skill. It’s not a feat all stories can achieve, so the reviewer thinks you should wear that as a badge of honor.

Possibility #2: They’re actually paying you a backhanded compliment and are hoping you’ll get upset. They want you to know they liked your work... but they secretly still think it’s silly, or stupid, or cringe. I won’t elaborate on this opinion because I think we’ll all fill in the blanks with our own worst fears, so there’s no need for me to do the heavy lifting when it comes to this kind of horror.

Which of these things do reviewers actually intend? I can’t say. This is obviously up to the receiver of a particular review to decide. I personally remind myself of Hanlon’s Razor whenever possible: “In misunderstandings, never assume malice where thoughtlessness will do.” It doesn’t necessarily amend the hurt I might feel, depending on how the review is worded and how severe the backhanded compliment structure is... but it does help me make peace with it.

What’s my personal opinion on the matter?

I’m of two minds.

Mind the First: It’s awesome to convert someone to a genre of story they previously hated. OC fics get a (frankly undeserved) bad rap, so I understand that an inevitable portion of readers will come into OC stories predisposed to disliking them. Knowing someone clicked on my story thinking they’d hate it, only to come to love it, is pretty great. It’s like you’ve given other OC fics a chance by being a good representative of that fanfic genre.

Mind the Second: In general, using the structure of a backhanded compliment to pay someone a genuine compliment is confusing and can be an example of poor communication if it’s not worded with enough clarity. Additionally, “I thought I’d hate your story” might be true for a reader, but it probably isn’t a necessary thing to tell an author. Just because you CAN say something doesn’t mean you SHOULD.

Personal Anecdote: A reviewer once told me of my main work, Lucky Child: “I clicked on this story to laugh at it and mock the concept, because it’s sooooo cringey, buuuut... it’s actually pretty great and I grudgingly respect the work you’ve done on it.”

The rest of the review was lovely and very complimentary, but knowing they came to my story intending to make fun of it, being told I wrote for a cringe concept, that they only “grudgingly” respected me... wasn’t the best. Largely because I am secretly afraid that people feel that way, so their review was confirming something I secretly dread. “How many other people are think my concept is cringey?” I found myself worrying. And the word “grudging” made me feel like they resented me for converting them to OC stories, which made me feel... not the best.

I genuinely believe they were trying to be nice and pay me a compliment NOW, but I will admit that I was somewhat unsettled by the comment when it first came in. There were better ways they could have communicated with me, for sure. Again, Hanlon’s Razor came in handy in this instance, and now I look at that review (and reviews like it) positively. But it did take me a while to put aside the negative implications. It helps that Lucky Child gets a comment like this every few weeks, LOL. At some point I’ve gotten used to them. Now I wear them as badges of honor and love receiving them. AGAIN, THOUGH: I’ve had practice. Authors less used to that kind of comment would likely respond the way I did at the beginning.

In conclusion?

In the end, I think using the structure of a backhanded compliment is confusing as heck when what a reviewer INTENDS to do is pay a genuine compliment.

So to reviewers who want to leave remarks like these? I’d say try to structure your comment in a clear way, avoid structuring a compliment like an insult, and be sure you’re not leaving room for miscommunication. Writers are notoriously sensitive creatures (myself included), and their command of language means they’ll read VERY DEEPLY into things if you’re at all ambiguous. Clarity, in all things, is key.

Honestly? Times like these are why I wish we taught more rhetoric in schools. The MANNER in which you communicate a thought can completely negate the CONTENT of your thought if you don’t use the right rhetorical device to communicate it, and using the rhetoric of insults to convey compliments is bad use of language. Mind your rhetorical devices, people! They’re important, especially if you consider yourself a writer.

To writers who receive these comments? I’d say to write down a version of Hanlon’s Razor and to repeat it to yourself often: “In misunderstandings, never assume malice where thoughtlessness will do.” I’m not saying all reviewers who leave this kind of comment are thoughtless, of course. But I AM saying that most of the time during misunderstandings (especially ones that take place on the internet, where you can’t read tone, body language and facial expression), people just don’t realize that their words can be misconstrued for anything other than what they intended. Most of the time, they have the best intentions. But since outcome is more important than intention, that can be cold comfort for those on the receiving end of a badly communicated review.

TL;DR for Reviewers: Don’t leave comments like these if you don’t want to be misunderstood.

TL;DR for Writers: Don’t take comments like these personally, because most reviewers don’t mean them maliciously.

I hope this helps, OP. Sorry if it’s too much!!

[aerltarg]

2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 26, 27 from ask game

2. Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?

oh, it's actually hard to answer bc pretty often my otps can work as brotps for me as well. it also means that when i can't ship some characters they don't work for me as friends either. not to mention that in asoiaf i'm open to many ships, and if i'm not very passionate about some it's not a sign i can't see them in romantic light.

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

may i say any sansa ship? 😭 as well as sansa herself lmao. idk generally i can't ship characters i don't like because i'm just not interested. and it's not to say i don't like book!sansa (show!sansa is another case 💀), i just don't find her arc as intriguing and epic as arcs of some other characters. however, it's absolutely her obnoxious fandom's fault that i don't want to touch anything about her now, pairings including. sansaery? pass. sansan? i used to have a soft spot for them in my heart but now? nah. sansa x anyone? pls have mercy, she's already a fandom bicycle.

and jonsa ofc. i would never mind some crack ship as i do this one if not for their obnoxious stans that did way too much to list there right now. but this burning desire to persuade every rock on the street that your crack ship is canon will never stop being ridiculous lmao

also braime. tbh i used to low-key like them but some of their stans weirded my away lol. i get that not all of them are like that but still. it's generally my great pain when i see braime/brienne/jaime stans who are also dany/targ antis. every time i see them i cackle and run away as fast as i can crying from disappointment lmao. it's really a pity because i'm either very neutral or like in my own way all three of them.

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?

jonrya it is! i never hated them, you know, but they never were more than siblings and brotp to me. however, later i encountered the deluded crack ship fandom that shall not be named and understood that if there is any possible romance for jon with any of his sisters-cousins we all know which one it will be lmao. also their stans are very sweet and i really like many of their takes on arya and jon! i generally love relationships of jon and arya very much so it wasn't that difficult in practice to see them in a quite different light.

7. Is there anything you used to like but can't stand now?

meta culture lmao. reading different analysis and interpretations of the text used to be very interesting to me (and still is tbh but in other fandoms) though asoiaf is a different case. imo many people aren't honest in their so called theories and analyses. i get that all of us are biased but some "meta writers'" denial of their own biases influence fandom in a bad way. it looks like too many people run to them to get answers to their questions about any minor detail as if they were grrm himself. yk instead of using their own reading comprehension lmao. you see how this meta culture ruined fandom just looking at the most delusional stans and shippers who spread their agenda by writing endless text posts full of nonsense and bullshit but styled as oh so intellectual and thoughtful analysis. it's insane how many people actually buy it and don't check canon accuracy of such claims themselves. it got to the ridiculous point when random people try to argue with you with some far-fetched embarrassing "theories" as if they were canon facts or quotes straight up from a fanfic because they read somewhere some other confused soul's post and got from a context that this quote is canon (despite the fact that it wasn't written in grrm's style at all but some people can't use their brains even if their lives depended on it it seems).

anyway it's become too long and rambly already so tldr. because of such "neutral unbiased" analyses i got the habit of fact checking almost everything i see in such posts. there's only a small amount of meta writers from targ/dany/jon/arya stans that i trust because i know by practice and following them for some time that they don't pull anything out of nowhere, back up everything they say with canon quotes, don't decontextualize anything and (that is the most important thing to me) are reasonable and open to discussion unlike so many bnfs nowadays.

8. Have you received anon hate? What about?

ah, not in this fandom yet, god bless! i think i'm not loud enough for the needed amount of time to deserve it lol. but since i'm not going anywhere soon maybe one day i will 😂

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

robert baratheon and tywin lannister, obviously. tbh it's pretty hard for me to hate any characters because you know. they're fictional lmao. just lines on paper, they can't hurt you. and even such dudes as tywin or robert don't get real distaste from me if they're written well enough. my problem with them lies not only in their canon crimes and shitty consequences of those but in fandom's (or at least some parts of it) unwillingness to acknowledge that they're canonically written as shitty, not as stan/pity/worship material. tywin isn't as clever as some think and robert is a coward outside of battlefield, not to mention some absolutely disgusting denial of his nature from targ antis only because the man happened to be the most vocal targ hater in-universe so these folks feel like he is their main book representative and whitewash him completely lmao

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

uugh idk even. i'm either low-key interested (or used to be at least so i can stay pretty neutral for the sake of nostalgia lol) or too indifferent to really care.

11. Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn't? Why?

all my faves have their own crowd of haters i'm afraid 😭 but let me say rhaegar. even among some dany/targ stans my man is so misunderstood lmao. it's not even his fault i dare say it's fanon about his half-imagined crimes that somehow got widespread to the unbelievable degree. and when i say they're half-imagined i'm being very generous actually. ofc he isn't perfect, no one in asoiaf is. and yes, he's a pre-series dead minor character but almost all little information about him is actually positive, not to mention the narrative itself that doesn't paint him as a villain or just a shitty dude. on the contrary, he's an idealized to some degree dead prince who could've been a good king (like some other historical targaryens, jacaerys, baelor breakspear, aemon son of jaehaerys, etc.), a mysterious yet tragic figure. i have much to say about why it's so popular to shit on him in fandom but yeah. his haters should send their complaints to grrm instead, no one forced the man to write him like that lol. and i mean that no one has to like him ofc. but it's misinterpretation of the text to claim he was intentionally written as a villain or smth by grrm.

12. Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn't? Why?

i don't know if it counts as unpopular but i would say tyrion's arc as a whole because i enjoy his character and like in my own way. i can get why some people don't like him but this man will always have his own place in my heart i must admit.

13. Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

is this unpopular tho?.. ok but renly wouldn't make a terrible king. i dare say he would be better than both robert and stannis. yes, he wasn't shown as perfect and i don't claim this. he wouldn't be the best or the most brilliant or the most just or noble. yet still better than his brothers. his flaws weren't anything other high lords didn't have, his mistakes weren't anything other lords and kings didn't do. in many ways he would make a better job than robert or stannis, too bad he died so early, even though i get why it was important for the narrative.

26. Most shippable character?

well generally for me it's the ones i love the most lol. jonerys/snowstorm is my never dying otp but i admit my sins, sometimes i just see dany with other characters (often from other fandoms pls don't @ me). however, since dany is THE fave of mine it means i would rather twist the other guy or girl to fit into the good match for her than twist her for another character in my new born crack ship lol. and i never stay for too long with the ships with which i feel they don't really fit and don't do justice for each other lol. maybe that's the reason i'm not much of a rare shipper / crack shipper afshdjdb

27. Least shippable character?

everyone i don't like? 😭 as i've said sansa for the reasons above lol. you can insert many others in her place lmao

[darkershining]

Just watched episode 28 of Tropical Rouge Pretty Cure, in which the Tropical Club get ready for the school’s cultural festival, while Laura gets curious about why Minori left the Literature Club last year.

The cultural festival is coming up, and the Tropical Club are making preparations to do a make-up class on the rooftop, as well as educating about the history of cosmetics. While looking for books in the library, Laura comes across the story Minori wrote back when she was in the Literature Club.

The class have decided to run a crepe stand at the festival, telling those who are in clubs to help out when they have a spare moment. As the Tropical Club continue discussing plans for their make-up class, Manatsu suggest they need a cute mirror or dresser. Minori finds instructions for how to build one in a book, with materials that aren’t too expensive. The girls head out to buy the materials, while Minori decides to stay behind to do more research.

Later that night, while Laura is relaxing in the bathtub in her mermaid form, she thinks back to previous interactions with Minori, particularly how she seems embarrassed about her writing, and wonders why that is.

As the day of the festival draws near, the students continue making their preparations. The Tropical Club spot the Broadcast Committee interviewing the Judo Club, who will be selling fried squid at the festival, as is tradition for their club. They’ve even rented a mascot, although a few of the members inform their leader that due to a double-booking, they ended up with a crab mascot rather than a squid.

The Broadcast Committee spot Manatsu and the others, and tell them of the livestream they’ll be doing at the festival, and express interest in doing an interview with the Tropical Club showing off their make-up class. Manatsu gladly agrees, and goes to tell Minori and Asuka about it. Laura spots the Literature Club setting up, and asks Izumi if she knows anything about why Minori left the club, since Izumi was in the same class as her last year. Izumi admits she doesn’t know the full story, but she recalls that Minori was pretty excited when writing her first novel, and she and a few other classmates did read and enjoy it, but later Minori suddenly stopped writing and told her that she’d left the club.

On the day of the festival, everything seems to be going smoothly and everyone is having fun. Chongire prepares to summon a Zettai Yaraneda to gather the Motivation Power from the students, but ends up dropping the orb when a stray baseball hits him. Chongire quickly heads down to look for the orb he dropped, only for the Judo Club to mistake him for the mascot they hired, and dragging him over to their stand.

When the crepe stand ends up being understaffed due to some people not showing up on time, one of the girls head to the Tropical Club for help, asking if they mind doing their shift early. Manatsu and Laura agree to help out, while Sango, Asuka and Minori continue handling the make-up class. However, the Broadcast Committee then show up for the interview. With Sango busy and Asuka unable to leave her to handle everything on her own, Minori offers to handle the interview, telling them to give her a moment to prepare herself. Minori heads inside to get her make-up on.

While Manatsu and Laura help out at the crepe stand, Chongire also ends up having a good time while helping the Judo Club properly prepare the fried squid. Manatsu and Laura are surprised to see Minori doing the interview, and are amazed at how well she does at it. However, Chongire manages to find the orb he dropped before, and summons a Zettai Yaraneda to drain everyone’s motivation. The Tropical Club quickly gather and transform to fight it off.

The Cures fight against a Zettai Yaraneda created from a fried squid, and it uses its ink to its advantage, managing to grab all the Cures in its tentacles except for Cure Papaya. In the process, it knocks over the Literature Club’s table and ends up stepping on some of the dropped books. Cure Papaya manages to free her friends and give Cure La Mer an oppurtunity to take back the stolen Motivation Power, before purifying the Yaraneda.

After returning to the mansion, the villains feel what appears to be an earthquake, but the Butler tells them the shaking is due to the Witch having a nightmare because they haven’t been getting enough Motivation Power.

Back at school, Minori picks up the books scattered on the ground, with the others helping her put them back. Laura decides she might as well ask Minori why she quit the Literature Club. Heading back the rooftop, Minori tells the others what happened, how she joined the Literature Club when she first transferred into school, since she enjoyed reading and fantasizing about stuff. However, after writing her first story, she was excited and thought the leader of the club would like it since her classmates seemed to enjoy it. However, the leader told her the story was fairly plain and that a lot of elements of the story and characters were things she’d seen before. When Minori looked over the story again, she realized the leader of the club had a point, and got embarrassed over how confident she was in it at first. She admits that since then, she hasn’t been able to bring herself to write anything new and simply stuck to reading.

However, Minori then admits that since meeting the Tropical Club, she has been finding a new confidence in herself, as their club activities and such have led her to try things she wouldn’t have thought to do herself, and finding herself actually enjoying a lot of it. She even admits that as nervous as she was during the interview, she decided to try doing what she imagined Laura would do in this situation. Minori says it’s thanks to everyone in the club supporting her that she’s enjoying herself much more now.

Another good episode! I’m glad we finally got some follow-up on Minori’s backstory that was hinted at before. I do feel for her, as someone who enjoys writing. I often find myself lacking confidence in my writing skills, or trying too hard to get everything perfect on the first try to the point where I can barely bring myself to actually write anything down. I do wonder if Minori will eventually be able to give it another try once she has enough confidence. If her story back then was her first serious attempt at writing a story, then of course it probably would have flaws, but since several of her classmates did enjoy it, she probably has some potential. When I discovered fanfiction, I was eager to try to get into it as a way of practicing my writing, but no matter how many ideas I had, I couldn’t quite manage to write anything I thought was good enough to put up online. So, I decided to hold off and stick to other forms of writing for a while, until I finally felt I had an idea good enough and the skills to make it happen. And while my fanfic certainly has its own flaws, I’m pretty proud of how far I’ve made it, and I’m looking forward to the day I complete the story.

Ah, sorry, guess I went a little off-topic there. Anyways, now that we’ve got Minori’s backstory, I’m hoping we’ll get Asuka’s backstory soon, since I’m still waiting on that one. Other than that, it was fun seeing some characters from previous episodes making appearances, and the part with Chongire getting in on some of the fun by putting his cooking skills to use.

I’ll be looking forward to the next episode!

[nikibogwater]

Prince of Silence: a Breath of the Wild fanfiction

My renewed interest in Breath of the Wild has brought to my attention that I never posted Prince of Silence here on Tumblr. For those of you who aren’t aware, this was the first fanfic I ever wrote to break 100 Favorites on fanfiction.net (back before I realized AO3 existed and was leagues better), and was my magnum opus for nearly two years until the publication of The City Never Sleeps. It is still one of the stories that I am most proud of, in spite of its age. Anyways, I thought some of my mutuals might be interested in it, so here you are: A cute (at least in my humble opinion) oneshot featuring established Zelink, courtly love, assassination attempts, and a very awkward proposal.

Read on AO3

Or under the cut:

Ten years ago, on this day, near this very castle, Link and I sealed the Calamity Ganon.

Zelda paused for a moment, her quill hovering above the page. Behind her, a fierce wind rattled a windowpane noisily. After a bit of thought, she dipped it in the inkwell, and continued to write.

It feels as though it was only yesterday, yet looking around me, it may as well have been a lifetime ago. So much has changed, so much has been rebuilt. Though the scars of Ganon’s return will never fully fade, Hyrule has prospered like never before these past ten years. It is more than I could have ever dreamed of.

I had thought about celebrating with a banquet, now that we have a castle to host one in, but I know Link hates crowds, and he feels uncomfortable whenever someone brings up his role in the fated event. Besides that, he has been extra quiet lately. I think there is something on his mind, but it is hard to get him to tell me these kinds of things. It seems not everything has changed since the Calamity’s defeat.

She was interrupted by a soft knock on the door to her bedroom, and a familiar, warm voice calling softly, “Permission to enter, Your Highness.”

“Granted,” she called back, hastily closing her diary before he could see it. Link crept in as silently as a cat on the hunt, a somewhat unnerving skill he had picked up during his journeys. Compared to him, Zelda made quite a racket wherever she went. His face seemed to relax just a fraction when his eyes met hers, and there was a tiny upturning at the right corner of his mouth that spoke of infinite fondness. To everyone else, he was as cold and professional as he needed to be. But Zelda could always pick up on his telltale quirks and signs that let her know how he was feeling.

“I came to see if my lady requires anything of me before I retire.”

“Thank you, Link, but I think I’m alright. You can go to bed.” He nodded and gave a swift bow. But as he turned to leave, Zelda spoke again. “Wait.” He glanced back at her expectantly. “There is....something...” she murmured with a shy smile, the tips of her ears turning pink.

“What is it?”

Rather than answer him, she stood up from her desk, her skirts swishing as she crossed over to him. She stopped just a hand’s breadth away from him, cupped his face in her hands, closed her eyes, and tilted her chin up invitingly. There was a split second of hesitation, as he checked to make sure the door behind them was firmly closed, and then Link gently met her lips with his own.

Neither of them were quite sure how long it had been like this. They had been stealing secret kisses and covertly showing each other affection more or less for the past ten years. Sometime after Ganon had been sealed, Zelda managed to convince herself she had worked up enough courage to tell him how she felt. Unfortunately, when she found him standing before her, waiting to hear what she had to tell him, her stomach twisted into a knot and her mouth dried up so she could not speak. Desperate to do at least something with the opportunity she had, she darted forward and kissed his cheek.

They could not remember ever really discussing it afterwards, but somehow, they got a new system fixed into place. From then on, it simply became a habit to exchange furtive glances every now and then, or find more excuses than usual to hold hands. During brief moments of privacy, chaste kisses were hastily exchanged, as neither one of them was too keen on being discovered by chance and having this development of their relationship become fuel for the gossip mill. They did not particularly like the thought of their love being anyone’s business besides their own.

They parted after just a second, though Link did take the risk of fondly resting his forehead against hers for a moment, after he had stolen another cautious glance at the still-closed door.

“Will there be anything else?” he whispered. Zelda swiftly pressed another kiss to his lips before replying.

“That will do for now.”

“Then I shall bid you goodnight, my lady.” He drew back and offered a courteous bow before turning to leave. He faltered briefly by the door and brought his hand up to his shoulder with a slight grimace.

“What is it?” Zelda demanded, hurrying towards him.

“Just an old Guardian wound,” he assured her. “They ache whenever a storm approaches.”

“Curious...” the queen murmured, a familiar spark lighting up her eyes. “Could it be the result of dark magic? Or is it an element specific to Guardian lasers that causes the body to become sensitive to the atmospheric--”

“Sleep well, Zelda,” Link said with finality....and just a hint of amusement. ***** Heavy clouds rolled over the skies above Castletown like angry Gorons. Thunder growled ominously from time to time, yet the rain held back, as though waiting for something. Link sat on the edge of his bed, massaging his aching shoulder with a sigh of frustration. He could not remember receiving this particular wound which left him with the scar that stretched from the center of his chest, around his shoulder and behind his neck. Zelda once told him it was one of the reasons she had him sent to the Shrine of Resurrection, but said little more about it. She became so morose whenever she thought of that day that he did his best to hide the evidence from her whenever possible. She had said it was from a Guardian, and he had similar, albeit much smaller scars from later in his journey that also tingled a little whenever the weather took a turn. But it was his shoulder that caused him the greatest discomfort. It felt as though an immense boulder was being forced down into the space between his neck and arm, sometimes to the point that he was certain his arm would pop out of its socket if he tried to move it. The only thing he could do was wait, and try to keep his muscles as loose as possible until relief eventually found him.

Tired of waiting for sleep that would not keep company with such pain, he stood up, donned his Champion’s tunic and sheath, and walked out into the hallway outside of his bedroom. He paced across the red carpet restlessly, rolling his shoulder back and forth as he gingerly rubbed the smarting wound. A routine security check around the castle interior would hopefully ease the pressure and allow him to get some sleep. As he passed Zelda’s bedroom, which was practically right next door to his, he paused and listened. All was still, as it should be. Satisfied, he began to continue, when a very soft thud stopped him in his tracks.

Link knew the sounds of the castle. He knew the sounds of his queen. He knew the sounds of the knights and servants who resided there. That thud was not a native sound. It was the distinct impact of a light frame jumping to the floor while making as little noise as possible. He was very familiar with it, as it was one of the noises he had never quite been able to silence when he practiced stealth maneuvers. He also knew that it did not belong in his queen’s bedroom at this hour of the night. And when not a split second later, he heard said queen give a startled squeak before abruptly falling silent, he knew exactly who had made it.

The Yiga assassin did not know what hit him. One moment, he had the queen’s neck firmly in his grasp with a sedative treated rag pinned against her face, ready to drive his sickle into her gut the moment she was unconscious, and the next, he was on the floor with a boot crushing his chest and a sword at his throat. Link stared down at him with a look of such intense loathing he might as well have had a serpent pinned under his foot. Behind him, Zelda collapsed beside the bed, clutching her throat and gasping for air. The sedative had not taken full effect yet, but a few of her senses had been overwhelmed, leaving her weak and breathless.

Link took stock of the situation very quickly. They were at least three stories above ground level, but Yiga were expert climbers. Had the rain come any sooner, it would have deterred them, but the clouds had held firm just long enough to provide a window of time in which to slaughter their target. Speaking of windows, he distinctly remembered Zelda’s being closed and locked when he came to say goodnight. That meant someone from inside the castle had unlocked it from the inside, someone who had access to the queen’s bedroom. All of this flashed through his mind with blinding speed and precise clarity, so that he had worked out the entire thing by the time the assassin had collected his senses enough to start struggling.

Under normal circumstances, Link would have liked to think that this scoundrel stood no chance against him. But just when it was most important that he be at the top of his game, the thunder gave another ominous roll outside, and as if in response, his shoulder spasmed so intensely, he could not stop his hand from flying up to it and clutching it in agony. Then before he could gather himself, Link felt a slicing pain across the back of his leg, and jumped backwards with a hiss. He had forgotten some of the Yiga’s tricks in the last ten years, such as the kunai they always kept equipped below their wrists for situations just like this one. The assassin reached for his Vicious Sickle, only to find that Link had liberated him of it and flung it across the room during their first encounter. While he was distracted by this discovery, Link took the opportunity to slam his sword hilt against the Yiga’s head, and although it clearly disoriented him, it did not have the desired effect of rendering him unconscious. He still had enough sense to ram his fist into the knight’s gut and set off a smoke bomb. Link dove to shield Zelda in case the assassin tried to use his momentary blindness to finish off the queen, but as the smoke began to clear, there was no sign of the attacker anywhere in the room. He had chosen his life over his mission, and teleported out. Link let out a frustrated growl, then turned his attention to the still-shaken Zelda.

She was winded and dazed, but unharmed. He breathed a prayer of thanksgiving to the goddesses as several guards, who had been alerted by the sound of the smoke bomb going off, came barreling into the room in a panicked frenzy, readying their spears against a now absent enemy. Link was going to have a few things to say to them later about their lack of form when it came to responding to dangerous situations.

“Whasgoinon?” one of the younger ones slurred, having clearly just been awoken from an on-duty nap. Nonetheless, Link chose to set aside his grievances with them for the time being and answered the question instead.

“One of the Yiga has attempted to assassinate our Queen. He teleported out, but there could still be others within the castle grounds. Alert the knights and have them search the area. One of you should also investigate Gretchen’s room in the servants’ quarters. I have reason to believe she was involved.” Zelda’s hand fisted against his tunic and she shuddered. It was not the first time someone had tried to assassinate her, nor the first time one of her own servants was involved, but such an attack and betrayal of trust still left her reeling. Link’s arm tightened reassuringly around her shoulders. The guards bustled out of the room with a hasty salute and tremulous “Yessir!” to their captain.

“L-Link...” Zelda rasped as he turned his attention back to her. “Your l-leg...” He looked down to find the cut on his leg enthusiastically gushing blood all over his ripped trousers. Had he not been a knight and in the presence of a lady, he probably would have cursed. As it was, he let out a quiet groan of frustration and quickly apologized for staining her carpet. “Oh, for Din’s sake, Link...” she sighed. She shakily got to her feet with his help, clinging tightly to his forearms in case she toppled over again. After a minute, she steadied herself, and began leading him towards her bathroom, where a medical kit was kept beside the sink. “Come on, let’s take care of that.” ***** The castle was a whirlwind of activity for the next few days. Every key was confiscated, every lock was replaced, and every staff member questioned. Zelda’s maidservant Gretchen was, of course, nowhere to be found. A search of her belongings yielded a few correspondences written in Ancient Sheikah, leading Link to believe that this had not been a spur-of-the-moment attempt. The Yiga had been planning this for quite some time, using Gretchen as a means to achieve entry into the otherwise secure castle. Throughout the whole investigation, Link all but chained himself to Zelda’s side, shadowing her more intently than ever before. She supposed it should have irritated her, but the attempt on her life and the revelation of her maidservant’s betrayal left her feeling deeply violated and shaken. As a result, she dearly appreciated Link’s constant presence. The world could fall to pieces around her, but as long as he stayed beside her, she knew they would be alright.

However, there was something about her beloved knight that was bothering her. He seemed far more tense around her than usual. At first, she attributed it to the shock of the assassination attempt, but when she thought about it, he had been acting strangely for several months now. It had only intensified in the weeks since the attempt. It was as though they had relapsed into the days before the Calamity, when he refused to speak freely with her and others around him. He was reluctant to make eye contact with her as well, and often stumbled over his words like an inept schoolboy. Once or twice, she caught him staring at her with the strangest look on his face, while his hand fiddled with something in his pocket. She tried to give him his space, trusting that he would come to her of his own volition in time, but she was starting to miss the way he used to surreptitiously twine his fingers with her when no one was looking, or let her steal secret kisses even when he was technically on duty.

He has become so distant lately, she wrote in her diary one evening. I’m almost afraid I’ve done something wrong, but he doesn’t seem angry with me specifically. Something else is bothering him.

She paused for a moment, and glanced at the rainbow of purple and orange shining through her window. It was a beautiful Autumn evening, every leaf dancing like feathers on the wind in a glorious show of color. The queen let herself pout for a minute. It was too lovely outside for the problems she had to deal with. She did not want it to be so beautiful when she could not properly share it with the one she loved. She looked back down at her diary, dipped her quill, and resolutely wrote on the next line, I’ve had enough. ***** Darkness cloaked the sky in velvety black. The stars glittered like diamonds and the moon shone like a pearl. Zelda sat cross-armed on the edge of her bed, tapping her foot impatiently. When Link came to say goodnight, she was going to put an end to this nonsense once and for all. When at last, she heard his knuckles softly rapping on her door, she jumped off her bed, marched across the room, and wrenched the door open aggressively.

“Permission to--gah!” Before he could finish, Link was yanked forcefully into the room by his collar. Zelda shut the door behind them with an ominous click, and stood staring at him fixedly for a minute. “M-My lady?” he stuttered.

“Link, it has come to my attention that there is something bothering you,” the queen announced stiffly. “You have been unusually distant these past few weeks, ever since before the assassination attempt.” Her voice softened a bit. “Tell me the truth; have I done something wrong?” She would have been lying if she said she did not feel immense relief when his guarded expression relaxed into one of affection.

“No, Your Highness. You’ve done nothing,” he answered softly, yet firmly.

“Then what has you so....unsettled?”

“I...” He gaped for a moment, searching for the right words. Oddly enough, she saw his hand briefly stray towards his pocket again.

“Link,” she murmured, taking a step towards him and resting a hand on his shoulder. “Please tell me what’s troubling you.” He struggled for a minute, avoiding her gaze. Then, he seemed to come to a decision. His expression hardened into impassive determination again, and he finally looked her in the eye for what felt like the first time in ages.

“My lady, I am worried for your safety,” he said in a rigidly calm voice. Zelda blinked a few times in surprise.

“But...you’ve been by my side more than ever these last few weeks. I’ve never been more protected in my life.”

“There are limits to what I can do to ensure your safety.” His voice was uncomfortably formal. “When you retire for the night, you are left alone in your bedroom, and susceptible to attack.” Zelda took an abrupt step backwards.

“Wha-what are you suggesting, exactly?” she demanded hotly.

“My lady, I have thought long and hard about this, and...I believe it would be beneficial if I stayed in your room to protect you while you slept.”

“Excuse me?” Zelda squeaked, a rush of indignation coloring her cheeks red. “Do you realize how utterly improper--”

“I am aware that this is a violation of the knights’ code, but I believe I’ve found a way to override this standard,” he interrupted. His voice was still level and controlled, but his words were coming a bit faster. “Please understand that I would not ask this of you if I did not believe it to be in your best interest.” With that, he took her hand in his, and dropped quite suddenly onto one knee.

“What on earth are you--” Zelda began, then abruptly froze as the realization hit her like a shot from an Octorok.

“My lady,” he said quietly, then paused. “Zelda,” he amended, looking up at her with such a pleading look in his eyes that she would have laughed if she had not been so shocked. “Will you allow me to fulfill my duty to protect you from all harm at all times? Will....Will you marry me?”

Zelda breathed out a soft Oh in understanding. She felt girlish butterflies erupting in her stomach as unwelcome tears of joy rose to her eyes. She quickly swallowed and schooled her emotions, staring down at him with a guarded expression. “Is this....something you truly desire, Link?” she asked carefully. She knew in her heart what the answer was, but she needed to hear him say it first.

“More than anything,” he answered firmly.

“Th-then...” Zelda ordered her voice to stop shaking. “Then I shall grant your request.” And with that, she dropped the facade, tugged him to his feet, and kissed him, over and over again until she had to stop to breathe. She did not realize she was crying until she felt his hand tentatively brush her cheek and thumb her tears away gently. “Goddesses, Link,” she gasped, holding his hand against her face and laughing breathlessly. “Only you would use an assassination attempt as an excuse to propose.”

“S-sorry,” he mumbled, flushing a becoming shade of pink. “I got too scared whenever I tried to ask before.”

“So....may I see what’s in your pocket now?” Zelda asked coyly. She had a pretty good guess as to what it was.

“Oh, right. I forgot.” Link took his hand back and fished around in his pocket for a moment, struggling to fasten his still-trembling fingers around the object within. At last, he got it out and placed it in her left hand. It was nothing particularly special, just a plain, silver ring. Link refused to accept pay for his position as Zelda’s personal knight, and had few Rupees to spend on personal items. But to the queen, it was more beautiful than all the precious jewels in the castle treasury. “Y-you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, of course. I just thought I should try to make this as proper as--” She cut him off by pressing her lips to his once again.

“I’ll never take it off as long as I live,” she vowed. ***** It would not be until years later that the Hylian commonfolk learned of what had transpired that night between the queen and her appointed knight. Since Link and Zelda were still uncomfortable with the idea of their relationship being put in the spotlight for the public eye, they did the sensible thing and simply eloped; took a research trip down to Tarry Town and came back married. Of course, rumors spread quickly as to the nature of the silver ring that had mysteriously appeared on Link’s left hand. These were accompanied by unproven claims that the queen wore a matching ring on a chain around her neck, but kept it hidden beneath her high-collared gown. Still more stories circulated around town that the queen and her knight had been caught kissing in a pantry in the castle kitchens, but the cook who supposedly saw them had been known to weave more than a few tall tales in her time, so her claim was usually taken with a grain of salt.

When the queen gave birth to the crown prince two years later, it finally came to light that she was, in fact, married, and Hyrule had an official Prince Consort. People had often wondered what position her silent companion held and why he was always inexplicably at her side for even the most mundane of governmental affairs. Apparently he’d had a hand in running the country for quite some time now. Some called it scandal, but Kapson the Zora priest was able to produce a marriage license with a date from two years previously, proving that they had indeed upheld the knights’ code of honor and Hylian social standard. The code never said anything about publicity, so at the most, people could only feel offended for not knowing what was none of their business in the first place.

Government records in Hyrule have since made a few references to The Silent Prince of Hyrule, but over time, his true identity was lost to the pages of myth. There was, however, a queer passage written in the Royal Book of Genealogy that described Queen Zelda of the time as “Hyrule’s Happiest Monarch.” The section seemed to have been penned in by a previously unseen hand, and no script was ever found later in the text that matched the penmanship.

Historians presume they lived happily ever after.

[alexlabhont]

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter Two

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing:  Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC  (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really... I think.

I´ll be posting this one over here because Tumblr, for some reason, thinks my secondary blog is a bot...

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

Now, about the PAIRING... I will be using choices style, kinda. If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so... i’m sorry fo the grammar errors

CHAPTERS

The beginning

Chapter one 

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

—————————————————————————–

One of their favorite things of all New York experience it's having lunch with Zoey. The girl was funny and interesting and she always had the right conversation to spend time with. Also, she had an incredible taste in music, they both even shared some classes together, working in pair so often that the rest of their classmates just knew they weren't available to them.

So when Beck found out Zoey co-produced the last summer hit, they weren't surprised, what was making some teeny tiny noise in their head was…

“Did you really co-produced Lightning and you didn't tell me?!”

… That.

Beck was impressed, of course. They where proud! That song was one of their personal favorites, so the fact of knowing they were collaborating all this time with such a spectacular talent was an honor.

“To be fair, you never asked” She chuckled.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, Zoey: Hey, my name's Beck, had you ever co-produced a summer hit? Because I haven’t”. Beck ironized. The news were all over The T, and it definitely had to do with a little lunch Zoey managed to have with the same Professor Roberta, making her finally be friends with Beck. “By the way, thank you very much. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Babe, you just bought us a $200 lunch. I think you deserved not to have some teachers bad blood”

“Maybe I did it to be on your good side” Beck winked towards her, making Zoey laugh.

“Such a charmer, aren’t you?” Zoey opened their room door, finally reaching their home. “Careful, Beck. You’re going to make me believe I'm your favorite girl.”

“How says you aren’t?”

“Hum… I don’t know” She tapped her chin with a perfect polished fingernail, pretending to be thinking about it. “Maybe some little bird called Ina Kingsley.

Ow! Low blow

“Ah, gotcha!” Zoey laughed.

“Ok, that’s completely unfair! You know it was one-time thing and we ended whatever that was as soon as we found out we were teacher-student” Which was practically the very next day, by the way… kinda.

“Still… I think you should make it up to me for it.” Oh, that little flirty game between them. Beck was curious about it most of the time. Was it just a joke? Something more? Back at Farmville they never had a friendship relationship like that one, but Zoey was never really clear about the matter neither.

Instead, she always came up with some Ina related topic and it was confusing as fuck. I mean, yeah, they kissed Zoey in front of everyone in that football kiss cam. Beck thought that time that it was very clear they wanted to be more than friends with her. But apparently, she didn't feel the same, so… they won’t be pushing her. Beck would never oblige someone to be into… well… them.

“What can I do? Please tell” They said, playing along with her.

“You're a smart one. I'm sure you’ll find a way to do so.” Damn it, Zoey…

“I already have a few ideas… Scandalous lingerie.” Beck joked some more, a mischievous smile on their lips. “I’m thinking satin sheets, handcuffs, maybe a blindfold…”

“I like this image. You, sprawled out on the mattress, completely at my mercy…” Zoey moved closer to them, trailing her finger up their arm, making them shiver.

“Come on, Zo. Back down already! At least show me something, do something.”

“I might just take you up on that someday.” She said before walking away, teasing them.

“Gwaah!”

Beck hated that. Really, that kind of frustration was no good at all.

“Crap, I'm gonna be late for music theory! This is not good. The prof is a total hardass.”

“Told ya! You should’ve choose professor Liam as I did. You brought this on yourself.”

“And now you’re just an asshole” She said smiling, hitting Beck right on their arm.

“Ouch! Rude…”

“I’ll catch up with you tonight, yeah?”

“It’ a date”

~~X~~

“Are you sure you’re ok, Poppy?” Veronica asked. She looked preoccupied, and she was… But Poppy wasn’t the one in her mind. The blogger was worried for Chloe.

She was number one now, dethroning Poppy so suddenly that it was suspicious, especially knowing the blonde dumb head girl. She adores Poppy since they were kids, Chloe would never betray her, never. But of course, Poppy wouldn’t see that; no, the strawberry blonde was furious, feeling backstabbed, feeling like revenge…

Of course, you couldn´t blame her. She lived all her life between smoke and mirrors.

“Of course I am!” She replied, knotting her white transparent beach dress, covering up a sexy pink bikini. Poppy took a deep breath and accommodated her cleavage so it shows part of her chest, just a little, seductively inviting, but demure enough no to seem made on purpose. She was an expert on it, and she was about to prove her theory right about now. “I´ll take care of that traitor later…” She checked the hour on her phone. She had invited Farmsville to come there around this time. Test number one: They needed to be punctual, no lover –real or fake- of hers is an irresponsible with her time. She had better things to do than waiting around for an asshole. “Now come, Hughes must be here by now”

 “No, I think I’m going to stay right here. Light’s perfect” Poppy rolled her eyes at the way Veronica was trying to find the right angle to make her face look impossible good. She always manages to do so, though.

The strawberry blonde crossed the room, walking through the cabin towards the swimming pool room, she could see Beck there, on time, talking with Michael. Poppy smiled to herself.

“Test passed, Farmsville…”

“… It was built by the Alphas and Zetas as a place to study, party, hook up… Now the only people who come here are - -“

“The people I decide should be here.” She made her entrance.

Test number two: Is Beck into girls? Kissing Zoey didn´t count, Poppy herself had kissed a lot of friends without liking them, she had to prove it herself first hand. So she walked to them with confidence, head up high while moving her hips seductively, attentive to Beck´s every reaction, reading their face, their expressions, the little gulp in their throat, the way their eyes opened wild, checking her out, looking at her boobs…

“Disgusting pervert”

… to her eyes, were Beck fixed their own to stay, always to the face. Beck was trying to be polite, respectful, but the red on their cheeks was exactly the same they had back in the class. They liked what they saw, Poppy knew it. Just to verify, she took a look at the rest of Alphas, who looked away the moment they were discovered. Ugh, gross.

“… but… you have manners. I like it… Second test approved. Well done.”

“Welcome, Farmsville. Let’s discuss our little project, shall we?” An inviting smirk was drawn on Poppy’s lips, willing to test the limits of her new discovery, how much more could she play with Beck today?

“Oh, sure. See ya guys at gym” Beck said, bumping fists and shoulders with the Alphas as if they were good friends. One more of them. For an instant, Poppy found herself wishing they won’t turn Beck into a brainless gorilla. Beck was fine just like already was.

A blonde head caught her eye from behind Beck, saving her of questioning what was that though about because the anger crawled its way up her stomach, keeping her from minding of anything else. “Hold on. What is she doing here?”

The fucking nerve!

The audacity!

Every person in the room was watching Chloe, but nobody had the rage Poppy had. Of course she made them block the entry, how dare she?! After a little scene, that bitch finally went away. To think she considered Chloe her very own best friend! Deep inside, she was hurt, she felt used… The society was right: never to trust anyone, because their always pretending, always faking no matter what they said. Waiting the right moment to strike. That was a mistake she was never going to repeat. Never. She was about to leave, ready to start the project, but of course, Beck was about to ruin her mood one more time.

“That was… pretty rough…” What did they just say? The strawberry girl observed Beck. There was no rest of respect in them, conversely, Beck looked at Poppy as if she was Narnia´s White Witch, what happened to the little lamb look? “I get it if ya’ll are in a fight, but isn’t she supposed to be, like, your best friend?”

God, they were an idiot.

“You´re not here to be my moral compass, Farmsville. Shut the fuck up and walk with me. The rest of you, get out. Now”

Once alone, they both walked slowly around the pool, silence… She didn’t enjoy that. At all. But it was necessary and she couldn´t show any weakness sign to anyone there. Especially not Beck. But… She was now sure of one thing: Beck didn’t care about looks, but actions, or… feelings?

“Have you checked the student ranking today?” She asked, her voice softened. Beck shook their head. They looked at her phone, and after a while…

“Oh boy. Chloe is…”

“Don´t say it…” She was angry, venom caught in her throat, but instead, she let that out like a whisper. A hurt one. She wasn’t faking it, but controlling her emotions on her benefit. Wanting more test, Poppy slipped off her heels and went to sit at the edge of the pool. A moment after, she felt Beck doing the same.

“Bingo”

“It’s just as my parents told me… You don´t have any real friends, Poppy. Just allies. Hmp! Looks like they were right all this time.”

“Poppy, I…” They said, unsure.

“Such a shame.” She stopped him, going back to the anger. “I don’t know who she thinks she is, or who she had to sleep with to knock me out of my spot, but if she thinks this is over she is so wrong. It’s utter betrayal is what it is. That girl is dead to me.” Silence. Was that too soon? Did she got it wrong, again?

“Poppy, you´re too hot to worry about this”

Yes… now they can play.

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