#a couple spellings have been changed from when I first posted this because I finally went through the transcripts

[taz-metamals]

Welcome to my TAZ sideblog! I’m working on drawing all the Steeplechase Metamals, and the purpose of this post is to organize and keep track of them.

Here are the Metamals in the order they were first introduced:

- Charles the Giraffesaurus rex

- Chihuahuowls

- Orwell the Armored Gorilladactyl

- Emperor Pumas (one is named Greg)

- Harold the Bulbulgoose

- Clarence the Beaver-eel

- Spider-spider monkey-monkeys

- Skunk-frogs

- Llama-sheep

- Yak-eagles

- Aardvark-coyotes

- Tiger-moles

- Pangolin-falcon

- Lance and Camille the Monkangaroos

- Turtle-lions

- Claude the Jagpanda

- Squieetahs

[partycatty]

professor!kenshi takahashi > again

you just can't seem to do professor takahashi's reading assignments.

warnings: smut kinda? idk ur freaky and so is he

notes: hi guys im sorry i havent been posting, brain went numb after i lost a 2k kung lao fic because god hates me. enjoy a new brainworm!

@crimsonbubble come get yo juice

[ masterlist ]

• professor takahashi was a major asshole, every student on campus whispers about his attitude and ridiculously complicated assignments, particularly his reading assignments. they were long, tiresome, and often so complex in word choice you swear your eyes are crossing. unfortunately, you needed this credit to get the hell out of that school.

• he was presumably indifferent about you, wandering the aisles of the desks with a never-changing scowl. he was pretentious, always clean in a suit. his hair was neatly done and his back was obnoxiously straight. you tried to be mad, but you respected his devotion to his career.

• when he'd assign one of those readings, nine times out of ten you chose to skip it. they were only worth five points, it felt criminal to waste that effort when you could be enjoying college life. what's a few points here and there? it's not like you were studying for a phd like your physics professor, dr. carlton.

• midterms were approaching, grades were set to be due within the week and it seemed to be all crashing down on you. the readings and journals following them were costing you about seventy points that could easily bump your grade up a letter... if he let you submit them this last second.

• knocking on his office door, you hear an immediate groan and shuffling. his dress shoes clacked against the floor before he opened up. his height was alarming at such close proximity and you found yourself dizzy under his scrutinizing glare. the glasses on the bridge of his nose jump as he scrunches.

• "it's after office hours," he states, eyes shooting to a clock on the wall behind you. "3-7. it's on the syllabus."

• "i—i know, but—" for the first time, you found yourself stuttering in front of him. "i didn't have the t-time to do the assignments and i was hoping you could take them before the end of the week...? i'm sorry, i know this is sudden—" his large hand raises itself, putting a spell on you to stop talking just as quickly as you started.

• "you're missing fourteen of them," his voice is low and cold. how did he already know how many you were missing without checking? it takes a long time before he sighs and steps to the side, eyes inspecting your every move. "we... could probably knock a couple off if you need the help." ...we?

• swallowing, you step into the small office. you never really noticed a distinct smell on him, but the faintest cologne and his natural musk fogging up the room made you suppress a whimper of surprise. he squeezes past you to get to his desk, and you try to ignore the brush of his touch against your waist as he subtly moves you to the side. you feel trapped in this room, backing into a corner and fidgeting with the dead skin by your fingernails.

• he shuffles papers around on his desk, retrieving the printed copies of what you're missing and slapping them on the desk. you jump, trying to back even further into the corner you had buried yourself in.

• "don't look so afraid," somehow his harsh tone offers a smidge of comfort. "it's not rocket science." he beckons you over with two fingers and your insides curl.

• the passage is long and aggravatingly complicated just from a glance, the backside of the page being a few short answer questions. professor takahashi stands close behind you, forced into closeness from how much his desk was positioned against a wall. you hear him try to stifle his breathing but each small gust on the back of your ear made reading all the more impossible.

• your eyes skin the page, lips trembling as you mouth the words on the paper. just as focus overtakes you on the final paragraph, your professor's sultry voice grumbles in your ear.

• "what did the curtains symbolize?" he gruffly asks, tapping a finger on the first question. you stutter over your words, in a blind haze you couldn't even recall the mere mention of curtains in the writing. you swallow thickly, trying to pull an answer from your ass in typical student panic.

• "concealing true thoughts?" you wince, ready for his disapproving tone to burn your ear. instead, the tense air is cracked through when professor takahashi slams his hand palm-down onto the desk, making you whimper in surprise.

• "again," he groans, already frustrated with your ignorance. "and get it right this time."

• how were you able to focus like this? it was cruel. it was sick, and you wouldn't be able to tell that kenshi agreed with your panicked thoughts from his stone cold expression. he was just thankful you had just enough wiggle room to not be pressed against his aching boner through his slacks.

• you swallow thickly, eyes fluttering over the passage again in a haze. this was too much, you should have just failed instead of participate in whatever this was. "the barrier between private and public manners?"

• kenshi groans again, head dropping in frustration and nearly putting his head on your shoulder. you tense up, his hot body feeling like too much and he's not even touching you. something about a big, authoritative man telling you what to do was getting you going... damn you and your late night assignment recovery plan.

• professor takahashi raises his head again, rolling his shoulders as he tries to keep himself together. his eyes glance downward, and he looks down his nose at the sight of you rubbing your thighs together ever so slightly to relieve the tension. a chuckle is pulled from deep in his throat, amused by your small figure and just how caged you were in this situation. he had all the positioning to... no, he shouldn't think that way.

• something ugly and disgustingly horny tugs at him anyway and pulls a swift movement. professor takahashi swings his thick leg between yours, parting your thighs and forcing you to stand with your legs further apart, pulling all satisfaction from you the moment it started. the smoothness of it all sends your heart into overdrive as you try to make sense of his motion.

• you're too afraid to turn back and look at him, to ask what he's doing. you can't, it's too much to ask of you. your legs are weak and knees are buckling, so you attempt to subtly rest your weight onto his desk with your elbows, unintentionally(?) bending over his desk.

• you feel his body loom over yours, and he manages to position his leg just right to press flush against your ass. his torso bends down, just barely above yours, just barely pinning you to the wood.

• "innocence," he answers the assignment question lowly, his brow twitching desperately. "purity... shame."

• his words tug at your core. "oh."

• kenshi wonders if he should pull away, if this was too much, if you'd run away the moment his grip loosened... but you show no ounce of disagreement to the predicament. if anything, the shake in your body and the emanating heat from your cunt through your bottoms told him you needed this... maybe even more than you needed this grade.

• testing the waters further, his fingers dip into the sides of your waistband, tugging the fabric away from your hips curiously. if now was your time to decline his advance, you certainly wouldn't have taken it. involuntarily, your ass presses against his thigh in anticipation, a motion that makes him jolt in surprise. no words are being exchanged, yet your heat was telling him all that he needed to know.

• "question two," he mutters, eyes transfixed on your back. "in the main character's dialogue during the theater scene, who was he speaking to?"

• this question came to you easy even if your mind was escaping you. your voice is weak, barely there enough to answer. "the audience."

• "which one?" his growl makes you yelp as he tugs on your waistband, pulling you impossibly closer. your clothed pussy was just barely able to rub against his thigh.

• a hot breath escapes your lips, why he's torturing you like this is beyond you. "the—the real audience. us." a reward was given as kenshi pulls your bottoms to the floor, letting them pool at your ankles to give him a display of how soaked you got through your panties. he takes a sharp intake of breath, unable to stop his hand from dragging along the fabric or diving in straight away... no. you wanted this, you had to earn it.

• his lack of response but delight in touching you was confusing. your head drops in embarrassment, hiding the heat creeping up your face. "was... that right?" professor takahashi only replies with a hum, tilting his head to inspect your arousal further.

• he dives right into the next question, just as hungry as you were without admitting it. "what was the meaning behind the title?"

• you part your lips to pathetically guess, forgetting the passage had a title to begin with. your eyes are glassy, the words nearly impossible to distinguish. you want to cry by now, needing both a grade and something, anything to relieve what he's not providing you with. all you can sputter out in a shameful "i don't know."

• "yes you do," he really hopes so as he pulls your panties to the side, fully exposing yourself to him. he prays to god you know the answer, then he'd be able to take what he wants, fuck you into how he desires. he considered himself a pervert, a sick and twisted individual that shouldn't have the job he does. but seeing the way you ache and writhe for him assures he's right where he belongs. "think."

• you can't, you honest to god can't. your mind and body are fully disconnected, unable to access any cohesive part of your thoughts that would either tear yourself away, push yourself in deeper, or just completely shatter. his voice was pulling you apart, and in hindsight, maybe it always has. maybe he was just so alluring during his lectures you found it hard to focus on the work in front of you.

• a belt buckle clinks behind you, a sound that makes you clench onto nothing. kenshi frees himself, one hand squeezing the base of his cock and the other one pressing your back down, bending your body into a 90 degree angle. a mortifying wet slapping sound shocks your body as he taps his shaft against your cunt, your juices sticking and stringing in connecting threads each time he pulls away. your mind runs wild, wondering just how big he is, if his face is flushed or cold as always, but even still you dare not turn around.

• "again," he instructs with a huff, breath escaping him as he tries to regain his own composure. you're tearing him apart just as much as he is to you. "read it — hhh — again." the hand on your back trails to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and guiding your sight back to the passage. through fluttering lashes, you manage to get a clear image of the text, racking your brain for an academic response when all you can focus on is his tight grip and heat from his cock.

• "s'a reference," you sputter out, hoarsely. "to the... irony."

• "of?" you can hear the smirk as he notches his tip into your entrance.

• "the... character's... fuck—" you pound a fist onto the desk, back arching and attempting to fruitlessly bounce back onto him, something he wouldn't permit just yet. "the main character's thoughts and inhibitions..." you try to crank out an answer as you clench your eyes shut, chasing your potential reward. "how good of a man he claims to be when he's just as evil as the villain." you speak so fast you're afraid professor takahashi misheard you, or was displeased with your tone. his silence is deafening and you feel tears prick at your eyes.

• you whine at his silence, but before you could cry his name out in frustration, his hand curls around your head and slaps against your mouth, pressing firmly to stop any noise from escaping.

• you feel like a wet, silenced, needy dog with the way he handles you, demanding and controlling the situation in a cruel and torturous manner. it makes you sick, he makes you sick. it's a terrible awful desire to want to be stuffed full of a professor, one you paid to teach you, and all he's teaching you is how to behave like a toy.

• as you near the verge of fighting back, a firm knock echoes on your professor's office door. a feminine voice pours through, authoritative and with obnoxious intent.

• "mr. takahashi," the calls through the door. "the board wanted your approval for the next steps we discussed in last week's meeting. is now a bad time?"

• his cock still pushing against your entrance, he clears his throat and adjusts his glasses, standing straight. "not at all," he replies nonchalantly, feigning innocence behind a thin wooden door. "one moment, if you could."

• she approves and you hear her lack of footsteps — she's right outside of the door. in one swift moment, kenshi discards the assignment, hoists your bottoms back into place nearly making you jump in the process, and cramming his dick back into his pants. you want to cry, whimper for any sort of guidance, internally laughing at yourself for suddenly needing his attention and help instead of being the aloof student you typically were.

• professor takahashi nods his head toward his desk, and you understand immediately — crouching down and tucking your legs against your chest, you bury yourself underneath his office desk and hold your breathing, trying to calm your racing heart... tonight has been a lot for it.

• he clacks toward the office door, swinging it open. you can only catch the faint noises and changes in lighting as they move about the office. kenshi's sure to circle back to his desk and sit down, giving his coworker no opportunity to join his side of the room.

• your breath is held tight as they talk about office jargon, words you're too afraid to hone in on in case you get spotted. you try to focus on the faint stripe pattern of his slacks, the tapping of his foot as he intently listens to the muddy words.

• "i must admit, tonight's a busy one for me," he bluntly admits to the woman, shifting his hips in his seat. "i've got a lot to catch up on, a lot of grades to fix. if you don't mind, it would be best for the both of us to put a pin in this and come back tomorrow morning." a polite smile graces his stern features, one you can yet again hear in his tone. your heart flutters at the thought of being alone with him again.

• "i'm at a crossroads here," the woman sweats, nervously chuckling. "we were hoping to do a late follow-up meeting after your approvals... as soon as our conversation is done. they're all waiting in the board room."

• professor takahashi audibly groans, leaning back in his seat. you take the brief moment of adequate lighting to smirk at the sight; his cock was still raging and angry from denial, pushing hard against his slacks. he was dying inside.

• "if we must do it tonight," he draws out his tone, standing abruptly. "alright."

• your stomach drops at the thought, cunt aching and drooling for more after getting only a taste. you wouldn't be able to sleep, eat, function until you're able to be split in half by his dick. fuck the assignments, there's something else you want to chase now.

• and you wish you could chase, frowning as you see them both leave the room, kenshi stock-still as always just as you peer over the wood to ensure you're free to escape. tonight was a disappointment all around, and not even five minutes on your walk back to your dorm your phone pings, a new email sitting in your inbox.

just now - ktakahashi@school.edu

subject: office hours

thank you for reaching out for after-class help. my office is open anytime if you need anything from me. i'll be expecting you tomorrow to start.

[fisherpon]

Tumblrpon Retrospective: 1-16/16 “The Shared History”

First and foremost, let me get this out of the way: I’m not leaving. This is not a goodbye message, this is marking the end of the Great Draft Dump with a look back upon my time in Tumblrpon. This will be a very long post, hence the pagebreak.

Comic sprites commissioned from @darkfiretaimatsu Final art commissioned from @askmovieslate Background vectors by BonesWolbach Editing by me

Credits for each drawblog are after the page cut.

A long time ago, I had a saying. “Ten days online is like a year IRL.” What I meant by that is that so much stuff happens online and so quickly that if you go away for a couple weeks and come back, things may look completely different. Just think of the addition of ‘blorbo’ to Tumblr vocabulary, for instance. My point is, on that measure, I’ve been a part of Tumblrpon for 408 Fyears (Fandom years). Considering the oldest trace of Tumblrpon we could find is 415 Fyears old and the show itself is 438 Fyears old, it’s safe to say I’ve been around for a while. And, like any old dragon, I've lived through a lot and got some stories to tell.

The Beginning

When I started, Tumblrpon was small, but vibrant. There were drawblogs, indeed; the First, Applebloom; the Drunkard, Berry Pnuch; the Musician; Octavia, and surely others I have forgotten. In these very early days, Tumblrpon was mostly roleplayers. Among them, the Second Queens, the Lawlicorn Diarchy. This was the age of magic anons, of KA-THINGY spells and the invention of the word ‘ponification’. Aside from the drawblogs, here I have remembered some of the more prominent roleplayers of the era, many of whom were, and are, my dear friends. Many of them are still roleplaying in the depths of Tumblrpon, long since overshadowed by drawblogs. I still think they’re the core of Tumblrpon, though; more on that later.

Eventually, however, one drawblog would appear that would change everything. Easily the most influential Tumblrpon drawblog of all time, and perhaps the most deserving of the title Queen of Tumblrpon. The Third Queen, Pinkamena. Before her entry, grimdark elements like Cupcakes and Scootabuse were frowned upon, even hated. Pinkamena rose up and destroyed that barrier. She was by far the best-drawn drawblog up to that point, and pulled no punches when it came to blood and gore. And in doing this, she became famous outside of Tumblrpon. Her art spread to Ponibooru and other pony outlets online, and seeing what she was doing here brought many, many, many other artists to Tumblrpon. She arrived 3 days before me, and within a year of her arrival there would be hundreds of drawblogs. Her presence was brief, but her influence ever-lasting. This was the beginning of our finest era.

The Golden Age

Over the next few years, Tumblrpon thrived. This was also the golden era of the fandom as a whole, the period from Season 2 to roughly 6 or 7. With every new episode, drawblogs would pop up out of the woodwork. With each new character, multiple drawblogs would appear, often with variants. Tumblrpon-wide memes happened; Misty’s Hoodie, Rainbow Chubbie, Yellow vs Blue Pegasi, Ghost Trixie’s Memorial and the Somboom were but a few of them. Collab drawblogs appeared that were simply ‘put all the drawblogs of this one character in the same house’. I went to my first Bronycon (thanks to a charity drive by my Tumblrpon artist friends) and was part of the first of many Tumblrpon panels, through which we brought even more artists into our community. In the midst of all this, I jokingly called Raikissu the Queen of Tumblrpon, and it ended up turning into a massive injoke among our group of friends (which, because it included a lot of influential drawblogs, turned it into a Tumblrpon-wide injoke). They're the only one who really got to experience that title, making them the Fourth Queen. They were also the last, since eventually people didn’t realize it was a joke and started getting uptight at them about it.

As for me, running Fisherpon was a lot of work. I had separate categories of tags that I would search through, some daily, some weekly, some monthly and some yearly, and I would fully tag and put everything into the queue. I had to make a second Tumblr account and move Fisherpon to a secondary blog so I could bypass the 300/day post limit to handle all the content! But it was too much, and eventually I burnt out. I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but I think it was sometime in 2016. After that point, I stopped trawling the tags as much. I was following most of Tumblrpon (often running into the following limit of 5000 blogs), and through them I often saw new drawblogs (which I reblogged) and good pony art (which I tossed into the drafts, for when I’d eventually get around to processing it). Most of my blog’s activity turned into liveblogging new episodes, and Tumblrpon itself left its growth phase and plateaued.

Bit of a side note: In early 2017, a very dear member of the community passed away. He’d been there since the beginning, had one of the most unique ‘draw’ blogs, and was a close friend to a lot of us. Despite not liking alcohol myself, I still raise a toast in his honor on every anniversary of his passing. I still miss you, Rusty. You wise old bastard.

Anyhow, on to the most prominent event in Tumblr’s history:

The Purge

When the news dropped, I was travelling abroad in Korea so I wasn’t watching Tumblrpon closely. However, when all my Discord groups exploded, it was pretty hard to ignore. I feared that it would be the end of Tumblrpon as a whole, and wrote a dissertation about Tumblrpon’s history and my memories from the site. That goes into more detail on my origin story, if you’re interested in that.

And, as I expected, it did a lot of damage. Many drawblogs that were already on hiatus used it to justify finally ending their blogs, and a lot of ones that were active found themselves struck out of the sky by a stupid bot that couldn’t recognize boobs if it motorboated them. Tumblr gained a reputation as being unfriendly to artists, especially for those grimdark and risque artists Pinkamena had attracted to Tumblrpon in the first place. I’ve heard that roughly 30% of the site’s users left entirely, and in no place was it more obvious than my dashboard. Despite following thousands of accounts, there were and are days where I catch up on my dashboard to where I was the previous day and have to wait for new posts to appear. That would never have happened back in the Golden Age. Tumblrpon had already been slowly declining, but watching Tumblr shoot its foot off and strangle Tumblrpon (among other fandoms) was very depressing and radicalizing.

However, despite the purge, Tumblrpon lived on. There was talk of migrating to Pillowfort, NewTumbl or Mastodon, but they never caught on well enough to seriously shift the userbase. Despite everything, some new drawblogs popped up, and some of the old drawblogs that survived the purge kept on ticking and gained new prominence (or were simply no longer overshadowed) among the ruins. Things clearly would never be the same, and yet not everything had been lost. It was reassuring, in a way.

Meanwhile, outside of Tumblr, another great star was nearing the end of its life. The show itself, our source of fuel. It whose whims had given birth to thousands of drawblogs during the Golden Age, and whose fancies had caused no end of trouble for drawblogs whose canon counterparts went through big changes (cough Twilicorn cough). Nothing can last forever, and Season 9 would be the last season. Generation 5 was still at least a couple years away, so I decided to finally lower my standards and bring myself to post pony art without proper tags. I know, it sounds silly now, but I took great pride in my post organization and it took a lot of willpower to override that. I made a post telling people about my plans for the Great Draft Dump and started posting again, dripfeeding Tumblrpon with a post (almost) every hour from my reserves.

The Present

And now, here we are. A year past my original ending estimation and a couple weeks short of 3 years since it began. I could have pushed it to 3 years, but today is also the 12th anniversary of the very first episode that started it all so I figured this would be a better ending point.

Tumblrpon is still recovering from the Purge. They’ve dialed back the bot, and that combined with Twitter imploding (or something?) has helped bring artists back to some degree (or perhaps it’s due to COVID stuffing everyone inside), but there’s still a long way to go. We have new horse content again, and while it doesn’t seem to have the same spark G4 had it has breathed some new life into the fandom which is nice to see. There’s even been a handful of G5 drawblogs that have appeared, even though we still don’t seem to have any for Zipp or Hitch which is weird (especially in comparison to the dozens of drawblogs each Mane 6 member had back in the day). And yet, I’m still reminded of times long past. With most of the drawblogs gone, a lot of the activity on my dash is made of roleplayers once again. They’re not the same roleplayers as back in Oldest Tumblrpon, of course, but I feel as long as they continue roleplaying and interacting with each other Tumblrpon will never truly die.

And that is my history lesson. They may not be aware of it, but the new generation of drawblogs and roleplayers carry on a 415-Fyear-old legacy, part of which I’ve included in this comic. Just as we were Tumblrpon, so are you. To every blogger who ever drew a pony answering a question, and to every roleplayer who by interacting with others helped knit Tumblrpon together, I am deeply grateful. Undoubtedly, in the making of this comic I’ve forgotten ponies who should have been included, and to those I deeply apologize as well.

As for me? I’ll still be here. Ever-watching, ever-promoting, though perhaps not as much as I used to. The tanks are dry now, and everything I post will be from the present rather than the past. I’ll probably just toss it all into the queue and have it post whatever it gets a few times a day. Thanks to Tumblrpon, I gained a lot of horse friends, and it’s always great fun meeting up with them at conventions or hanging out with them in my personal Discord server (the Tumblrpon Block Party). If you made it all the way to the end of my tale and you want an invite to it, or if you have a new drawblog you want me to promote, or if you just want to chat, feel free to message me. After all, like I said at the beginning:

I’m not leaving.

Blogs featured in the comic (Queens bolded): Again, if I forgot you, my apologies. My memory’s far from perfect and there’s only so much space on the billboard.

Beginning (Panel 2): @askapplebloom-blog (archive of the original one) @vindicarthehippogriff @faithful-student @rainbowdash-answers @askberrypnuch @askrustynail (RIP. Survived by @techmomma) @askoctavia @ask-reginald-dragon @asklyra @queenfrau @draggity @ask-nightmaremoon @mythic-swirl @trollestiaanswers-blog-blog @stilllunaanswers

Early Golden Age (Panel 3): @askpinkaminadianepie @askmlcblobs @ask-doctorcolgate @ask-sadistic-rarity @ask-dr-adorable @thetalesofwildcard @askterry @asklittlepip @askhotbloodedpinkie @ask-misty-wonderbolt-blog-blog @raindropsanswers @ask-sapphire-eye-rarity @askprincessmolestia @askcharliefoxtrot @junes-pony @askfluttershyandpinkiepie @spittfire @asksirlintalot @ask-glittershell @ponyhawkesho @askdeadrainbowdash @askpiratedash @askvelvet @askstonedtrixie @asksurprisearchive (archive of the original one) @ask-jappleack @askspirit @sweetiebotreplies @askthenightguards @ask-grimdark-bigmac @askpalette-swap @just-flutterguy-replies @susie-queen-of-the-vampireponies @seaponyluna @askbadbloom @askmeaniebelle @ask-scootabot (sequel to the original)

Late Golden Age (Panel 5-7): @raikissu @vocationaldeathcruise (Somehow, this is still up) @askstalkerloo @asklaura-and-naki @outofworkderpy @ask-dinky-dawberry-doo @ask-doctor-dimension @ask-cyberpunkspitfire @ask-thaumaturge-pony @luna-afterdark @ask-dolly @askmovieslate @cmcnext @thehorsewife @askflufflepuff @questionpinkamena @lilmissrarity @fiddlesticks-archives-blog @darkfiretaimatsu @askfirestarterspitfire @fristart @under-renewal (Ask the CMC) @ask-acepony @pinkiepiesolutions @askshinytheslime @reversal-mushroom @askpun @askloona @ask-de-writer @askresearchertwilight @ask-king-sombra (Somboom reflected in window) @ask-fillytwilight (has since been taken over by a russian pornbot) @ask-ikea-pony @askbananapie @askseriousrainbow @motherlyscootaloo @butters-the-alicorn @thecoopontlc (the first collab drawblog) @ask-canterlot-musicians

Post-Purge (Panel 11): @rainbowdashsmailbagthings @thelunararmy @aerialaim @whirlwindflux @ask-louvely @unlocktheaskblog @adorkabletwilightandfriends @askburningstream @glimglamandpals

Now (Panel 13): @askalbinopie (Fellow Keeper of the Past, except that they also have the art skills to do it justice. If Rai hadn’t abdicated and killed off the Queen system, I’d prolly make Alby the 5th for their art skills and their understanding of our history.) @askjetstream @questionthedoctor @twila-bloggin @ask-izzy-moonbow @askquartzandcord @askdrunktwilight @darkreplies @sunny-and-sparkle @ask-narratordoe @ask-pippamena (What did I say earlier? Pinkamena’s legacy lives on.) @asklostcelestia @a-spoonful-o-generosity @askcharmingshadow @ask-shutter-ghost Here’s a funky fact for those of you who came alllllll the way down here. In late 2011/early 2012, right when Tumblrpon started expanding, there was a lot of Homestuck on my dash as it was still updating at the time. Because of that, I have approximate knowledge of many parts of the mid-to-late part of Homestuck, and also because of it I considered opening up a second Fisher blog for Homestuck material. Fisherstuck. Who knows how things would be today had I done that? Who knows....

[survivalove]

Thinking about why I like Kataang so much

so a lot of my posts/asks lately have been about things I dislike so I decided to balance it out by talking about something I actually do like! ofc I immediately thought of kataang and started thing about why i like them so much compared to other couples in media I watched growing up.

first thing is, I don’t actually like romance in visual media. I much prefer it in books but having to actually watch it gives me the ick idk why. also when i first watched atla I was like 5, so the romance really had no appeal to me and I was super focused on katara and the other girls on the show because they were girls! i would completely block out the boys and all the ship scenes for years after that because my attitude to romance never really changed.

right up until I was about 11/12 and became aware of romance from hearing people my age start to talk about crushes, boyfriends/girlfriends, kissing etc. suddenly I had entered this phase in real life where romance was suddenly relevant among my peers and this made me start paying attention when it played out in the shows I was watching like Hannah Montana, Wizards of Waverly Place, etc. this also included ATLA as my dad and I would rewatch it together on DVD throughout the year.

as I watched with my katara blinders, like I always do, for the first time I started to notice the boys in the show, particularly aang, (yes I finally started focusing on the main character after 6 years 😭) and certain interactions katara had with him that I never noticed before.

*dramatic pause*

and the way I consumed media would never be the same.

jk, but really tho.

fast forward to now, and I’ve recently started watching anime after consuming a bunch of western media my whole life from cartoons and disney shows to contemporary literature and Y/A movies/TV shows. and one thing that stands out to me with kataang compared to most of the romance i see in shonen animes (one of atla’s biggest inspiration as a TV show) is the way katara and aang develop in a way that is realistic, yet too good to be true.

let me elaborate:

starting from the very first episode, katara and aang have that classic meet-cute interaction. the music is playing, their eyes are widening, aang’s acting like he’s never seen a girl before and katara is impressed by literally every single thing he does. this is pretty much how every ship is set up, anime or otherwise, and kanna basically spells out their imminent connection when she sends katara and sokka off and sokka even explicitly says the word boyfriend seconds before that. obviously, these two characters are gonna get together at some point and it’s just a matter of when.

this is where it gets more than that:

the more katara and aang spend time together, the more they start to get on each other’s nerves.

I’m sure everyone’s had a crush at some point, where you see someone for the first time and go “oh they’re so cute” and you feel the butterflies blah blah. you either fantasize about them for a while and move on, or you pursue the crush and start to actively make moves to get to know them better.

and as you get to know them, you notice some things about them that kinda piss you off. the way they pick their nose, the way they bounce their knee, the way they chew. it’s always something. it can even affect friendships because that’s life. we are humans, not concepts. no one is perfect, there is nobody on this planet that you will 100% agree with or like about them. it just doesn’t work like that. and for some relationships, there is that one irritating thing about them that breaks the camel’s back and it doesn’t work out. you learn what annoys you and move on to the next relationship. or you have the lucky ones who actually stay together and the relationship continues to blossom as you get to know each other better.

similarly, kataang in the beginning are completely enamored with the other. until they’re not. throughout season 1, we see katara becoming more and more disillusioned with aang going from “aang’s so brave. he’s the avatar!” to realizing he’s just a boy with insecurities and flaws just like her. some of which get on her nerves BAD. similarly, aang goes from trying to impress katara and going along with every single plan she has, to disagreeing with her and even getting annoyed by her as the seasons go on.

despite this, it doesn’t stop that thing they have for each other from growing and flourishing. that is the magic part. watching two characters fall in love as they continue to annoy and irritate each other more and more. the more katara and aang butt heads throughout the seasons, the more and more unambiguous their romantic interactions become.

aang bluntly telling katara she’s not funny like he didn’t just ask her to dance with him in a candlelit cave in front of dozens of people a few days ago? katara constantly getting annoyed at aang’s antics to turn around and ask him for his opinion on the way she looks or kiss him on the cheek? right.

this is what makes them stand out from other fictional couples I’ve seen, where the girl and guy’s opinion on the other never changes significantly from that first interaction they have. one person, usually the girl because of course, worships the ground our main character walks on, meanwhile he seems to barely notice her apart from that first scene where she looked pretty and his jaw dropped or something. and even if they do interact a lot, their dynamic hardly evolves from that initial setup. they never get upset with each other or at the least, visibly annoyed. their dynamic is static, stagnant, mostly affected by major events in the plot rather than personal characteristics and minor misgivings the characters may have.

there’s no juice. it’s stale. and for me, very unrealistic.

I was watching this video about writing couples in media and one comment stood out to me in particular:

What you said about charm is so true. Entertaining chemistry to watch ≠ chemistry that pairs people together. A lot of sitcoms try to pair opposites romantically or as best friends, because opposites are good for comedy and conflict, but I find myself not understanding why they’re so into each other.

instantly i was reminded of the way people call kataang vanilla/boring, in favor of pairings that are far less similar. and while katara and aang do fight a lot, fundamentally they are very similar which is why they are so believable and realistic. I love watching them slowly become disillusioned with the idealized version of each other they had in the first episode to seeing all the ways they manage to piss each other off, and still being drawn by that initial mutual attraction.

katara learns the hard way that aang isn’t the infallible savior from her grandma’s stories, but she never stops believing in him. aang comes to discover katara’s flaws and conflicting opinions, but he still encourages her belief in hope, affirms her as a waterbender/healer and yes still calls her beautiful every chance he gets.

and what I love about this, is, it gives them reasons to fall in love that go beyond the superficial reasons that drew them towards each other in the first place.

they don’t fall in love with each other in spite of those little minor flaws, but because of them.

katara doesn’t love aang because he’s the avatar. she loves him because he is the goofy fun boy that allowed her to be a kid while taking up this heavy responsibility. aang doesn’t love katara because she’s beautiful. he falls in love witnessing those moments of her being determined, speak up for herself and others, and even going to great lengths to inspire hope in everyone she meets.

[fazedlight]

20 Questions More

A deeper and more detailed version of the 20 questions for AO3 fanfic writers. Thanks @eqt-95 and @inkedroplets for the tag!!

1) How do you keep getting ideas for your ship/fandom?

Daydreaming. Writing fanfic is secondary to that. It was only in the past couple of years that it occurred to me that I could write some of it down and see what happens.

2) Which authors inspire you in your fandom, and why are they so freakishly good?

@searidings is my absolute favorite, the way she unravels the characters' emotions and angst is absolutely superb.

3) Aside from the characters of your main ship, who are the characters you love to write?

Ohhh I really love this question:

Cat in Inauthentic, as well as this ficlet and this one. I love her sense of humor.

Lillian in Darkness in All Things. For the same reason as Cat, I just love her snark.

Zor-El in Even Though You're Kryptonian. He kind of surprised me when I started writing him, and to this day I don't know if some of his lines are driven by genuine confusion or if he's just trolling.

4) Are there pairings or tropes you know for sure you'd never write about? Which ones?

I'm a never-say-never kind of person. There's a lot that I don't think I would ever write, but I've been surprised on where stories have taken me before, and may be surprised again.

5) What is your writing process and why is it cursed?

"Process" might be an overstatement...

I have a "scribbles" doc where I keep my ideas. I cull ideas often (though ideas often make their way back anyway). As I write more into the doc, a certain idea may get too big for it, so I spin it out into its own doc.

From there, I kind of go back and forward between outlining and writing. I write completely out of order. Which is why, so often, my multichaps are almost fully drafted by the time I publish chapter 1. I've usually already made it to the resolution point of the plot (meaning, no one's in danger anymore, the bad guy is gone, etc), though the final chapter often doesn't get written until later.

6) What is your favorite part of your writing process?

I love when I've finished the first pass of a chapter/one-shot, and I'm in the editing stage. The story really feels like it's coming together at that point, and it's before all the self-doubt starts bubbling up (that hits hard just before posting).

7) What’s the weirdest thing you’ve had to research for a fic?

A friend of mine is a professor in astroparticle physics, so I spent a couple of hours asking him about quantum mechanics stuff. But only a small portion of that ended up being relevant to the fic and the rest was just for fun.

8) Is there a particular writing rule you struggle with (grammar, spelling, tense, reality in general)?

When I'm first sketching out a scene, about half the time I write in present tense (it feels more like I'm writing a play at that point sometimes), but I publish in past tense. So I end up needing to do a bunch of revisions 😭

Also TYPOS.

9) What was your hardest scene to write so far and why?

Fight scenes are ROUGH, man.

This is probably one of those answers I'll change every time depending what's at the top of my mind. But writing out a fight scene - like in Even Though You're Kryptonian, Darkness in All Things, or It's a Metallo Life - gets surprisingly difficult if there are more than 2 people.

I know exactly how I'd shoot those scenes if I had a camera crew, special effects, etc. But it's hard making sure the audience is aware of where everyone is positioned, why they can/can't act in the moment, etc.

10) Have your characters ever done something you didn’t expect, changing your plot completely?

All the fucking time, man. From the very beginning, even. I was trying to have Lena still be angry by the DEO scene in So I Kept Pretending, but that didn't make sense anymore.

I actually recently had a fic idea dissolve because it wasn't vibing with the characters. Which is fine, it became a ficlet instead!

11) If you could converse with any of the characters, who would it be and why?

Absolutely Kara. I have so many questions about kryptonian culture and how it drives her character.

12) What are some of the tropes or themes that you find yourself returning to in your writing?

Trope-wise, I definitely return to the Rift again and again. I find themes around forgiveness and understanding to be really interesting. Can two good-hearted people with conflicting needs hurt each other while still loving each other? How? What does that mean for the aftermath?

I think that's part of what draws me to supercorp - the complexity of their relationship. How they can both be right, and both be wrong, and love each other enough to rebuild from the ashes.

13) What's your most important resource as a writer?

Coffeeshops and libraries. Getting into slightly busy, cozy environments, out of the house, really helps shake loose the stuff in my head.

14) Can you share some of your strategies for editing and revising your work?

Especially for longer works, I tend to put the work down (and circle to other works, or go outside, or whatever) before coming back to it. It helps to step away for a bit - it's easier to pick up on repetitiveness or unclear passages when coming back.

Though I always find mistakes in my stories much later, so I'm not sure I'm one to give advice on this anyway 🤣

15) Which is worse: making the summary, picking the tags, or the anxiety when you post your fic?

Posting anxiety is the absolute worst. If I leave myself in front of my computer I'll end up refreshing constantly waiting for the first kudos (if it's a one-shot or first chapter) or the first comment (if it's a later chapter) to figure out if I've accidentally pissed off everyone in the fandom somehow.

Luckily, my partner will usually pull me away to go on a walk or grab lunch or do something else to take my mind off it 💗

16) How do you define success for your fanfic - hits? Kudos? Comments? Bookmarks? Or just if you like it?

I only publish what I like. Sometimes I'm nervous that other people won't like it, but I will always like it. Stories that aren't going a way I like - even if I think the idea is cool! - will dissolve. Just recently I dissolved one that felt like it was a cool idea, but it didn't make enough sense for the characters.

Kudos and comments always make me feel appreciated as an author!! Sometimes I'll get a user subscriber out of it, too, and it feels like an honor that someone would want to hear from me more than once.

The thing that feels most precious, though, is when someone comments on how something made them feel (I love making people laugh at my dumb jokes, or cry when a story is supposed to hit emotionally), or when they pick up on something that I wasn't sure would get picked up on.

I tend to lean towards understatement in my stories. For me, the biggest success is knowing that someone recognized what I was going for, without me being overt.

17) Do you have a playlist for your favorite character/ship?

Alas, I don't. But given that Kara is canonically a Britney Spears fan and musicals nerd, I feel like my default playlist works 🤣

18) If fan art was going to be made from your work, which fic would you pick and which fan artist would you like to create it?

Oh gosh, I don't want to pick someone and create pressure, or not pick someone and make them feel bad. This fandom has so many great artists!

That said, some of my favorites do commissions, you can see everything I've commission here.

19) How many WIPs do you currently have?

1 supercorp & 1 rojarias (for @supergirlmayhem)

For me, 2-3 is my happy number, so I'm relieved to be down to this after being so high (I think up to 11?) for so long.

20) What's your advice to new fanfic writers?

If you're wondering why you can't find that story you want, it might mean that you're the one to write it 💗

- - - - -

Tagging (respectfully and without pressure) @rustingcat @luthordamnvers @sssammich @tinyvariations @thatonebirdwrites @theredcapeofk @sideguitars @luthordamnvers @mycatismyeditor @inkedroplets @nottawriter @snowydragonscave @jetgirl1832 if you want some rapid-fire q's thrown your way. But also anyone who'd like to do this!

[sutibunbani]

Something big coming up!

So, I know I HAVE NOT BEEN POSTING MUCH! And I have a good reason why! Im working on Reference sheets for all my OCs! This INCLUDES redesigning them! So, Im putting my all into these reference sheets in hopes to finalize (hopefully) each of their designs for good! I know some of my designs from my last batch of Reference sheets was rushed, and the designs were falling off here and there. BUT I TAKE MORE PRIDE IN MY WORK THAN THAT! So I'm working hard to improve ALL of them. and give them all a more unique appeal to each of them! For context the Old references of my OCS: https://www.deviantart.com/sutibunsagebunnu/gallery/92464431/reference-sheets Characters like Alexandrea, Burnette (Formerly Bernnett, I'm going to spell her name differently on her new ref and from now on) , maybe Agent, and William need BIG GLOW UPS! If your an artist, you would imagine the PURE THOUGHT it will take to improve all of these characters! So be patient with me! I'm also looking forward to joining Art fight next year! Which admittedly is why Im pushing a bit hard to get them all better designs! I want people to have more option and FUN when drawing my characters! I already have an Artfight account (It's just inactive this year, and was last year when I made it): https://artfight.net/~SutibunBanni

With all that said, Have a couple sneak peaks on what I've been up too!

I brought back some OLD design choices I had made WAY BACK when I first made this character. One of these being his crystalized hair!

Sneak peak on the new character *Wink wink*! You can see his original Concept piece on my Deviantart!

I changed one of my characters species completely (Well, sorta) I can't wait to present this one's new design, because it just looks SO MUCH BETTER than it did a while back! Definitely a more interesting look!

A glow up on one of the characters I mentioned earlier that would NEED ONE! Im sure if you look at the old references, you'll know EXACTLY who this is!

NOW ALL THAT ASIDE! I hope you see and understand what I've been up to! I'll still try to post side drawings and such! But as of lately, I've been VERY busy with these! I care about my OCs a LOT, And I just want them to have the amazing thoughtful designs they deserve!

[riotwritesthings]

The Hunger Bites and Burns

WinterIron, E, 8k - PWP, Werewolf sex, size difference, knotting, werewolf tonguejobs, Curse You, Bucky! ‘Verse

HAPPY SPOOKY DAY!!!

Please enjoy some monsterfucking, only exactly a year after I first meant to post it lol whoopsies. (watch out for the full werewolf transformation, we’re pulling no monster punches here babeyyy)

“Oh, wow,” Tony breathes as he steps out onto the roof. He knew it was a clear night when he decided to come out here, but he hadn’t expected the full moon, and it is bright. The entire rooftop is lit up, along with the surrounding grass and trees, and Tony can’t help taking a minute to just stare.

“Uh oh,” Bucky says behind him, voice oddly strangled.

“I told you not to piss off someone who calls themselves the ‘High King Druid’!”

-

Checking the solar panels that cover the roof of the compound is exactly the kind of boring, easy maintenance Tony usually pays someone else to do. But the Avengers have been extra busy lately, and Tony kept forgetting to make the call (or more accurately, have JARVIS do it), and now the maintenance is overdue.

When Tony finally gets around to doing it himself the sun has already set, because once again his day off got interrupted by someone trying to take over the city. So he just grabs a headlamp and heads for the roof, telling himself that at least he won’t have to worry about baking in the sun.

And at least he gets to drag his complaining boyfriend with him, partially to help carry tools and partially because Tony just isn't quite finished reassuring himself Bucky is alive and in one piece after the mess of their last mission. Once again, Bucky had managed to take a blast of magic directly to the face and just because he hasn't dropped into a death-like sleep or sprouted extra limbs yet doesn't mean that Tony isn't on high alert.

He’s just on high alert while also getting boring maintenance done around the compound. Because he’s a multitasker like that.

“Oh, wow,” Tony breathes as he steps out onto the roof. He knew it was a clear night when he decided to come out here, but he hadn’t expected the full moon, and it is bright. The entire rooftop is lit up, along with the surrounding grass and trees, and Tony can’t help taking a minute to just stare.

“Uh oh,” Bucky says behind him, voice oddly strangled.

Even as Tony spins on his heel he knows in his gut what he’s going to find. So he’s completely unsurprised, if still concerned as hell, at the sight of Bucky hunched over, arms wrapped around himself as another low groan drags out of him.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Tony says in a voice that he mostly keeps from shaking, “I told you not to piss off someone who calls themselves the ‘High King Druid’!”

He has more to say, mostly about how he did warn Bucky, and that yes they did all agree the man took his D&D a little too seriously, but that didn’t mean his curses weren’t extremely effective. Before he can actually get a word out though, Bucky is changing.

It starts with another low, pained groan tearing its way out of Bucky’s chest and quickly escalates to his muscle and bone growing and bulging horrifyingly beneath his clothes. The last of Tony’s resigned annoyance quickly melts away in favor of worry because sure this is hardly the first time Bucky has been hit by some stupid spell and turned into something else, but every time Tony can’t help worrying that this time will be different. That this time Bucky will end up hurt, that he’ll end up losing himself all over again in some horrible new way. That Tony will lose him.

Tony doesn’t know if he’s ever felt as helpless as he does simply watching Bucky rapidly outgrow his clothes in disjointed fits and starts, watching fur sprout over every visible bit of skin. Bucky jerks his chin up to look at him, and Tony can recognize the fear and pain in his eyes even in the split second before his face bursts outward in a flurry of skin and fur and bone.

The entire transformation can’t take more than a couple seconds, but it feels like it lasts forever as Tony watches the shreds of Bucky’s clothes fall away from his shifting, changing limbs.

And then all at once it’s over.

Bucky’s big blue eyes dart up to him again, familiar even surrounded in dark fur, but that and the shine of the metal arm in the moonlight are pretty much the only recognizable things about Bucky now. Even the time Bucky got turned into a some kind of weird yeti-creature has nothing on the size of the creature standing in front of him, giant chest heaving as it pants for breath and nearly blocking out the moon as it stands a little straighter.

The shape is only vaguely human, legs bent the wrong way and long arms ending in giant, sharp-clawed paws. Pointed ears flick around on top of its head and then the… wolf, it’s a fucking werewolf, lifts its head a little, dragging in a deep breath that makes it’s already huge chest swell further, and Tony has absolutely no doubt that his thundering heartbeat is audible to both of them.

The wolf takes a step towards him, power obvious in the movement even if it is a little unsteady. Tony takes an instinctual half-step back, can’t help it, and the shift is instant. The werewolf’s entire body slumps, tail drooping and ears going flat like some kind of giant dejected puppy as a deep whine escapes it. It’s all so completely and obviously Bucky that Tony’s fear is instantly replaced with crushing guilt.

“Hey, hey, no, it’s okay, come here honey,” he hurries to say, arms outstretched, and within seconds Bucky is barreling towards him, nearly knocking Tony over as he shoves his cold nose into the crease of Tony’s neck. “Alright, easy there, fluffy,” Tony laughs, trying ineffectively to shove him away as Bucky’s giant arms wrap oh so carefully around him. “How does this keep happening to you?” Tony complains, but he’s already burying his fingers in the thick fur of Bucky’s sides, hugging him back because he’s so damn glad Bucky is okay and he still feels more than a little bad for flinching.

Bucky just makes a low, whining sound that Tony is pretty sure means he’s trying to defend himself, and since Tony can’t currently see Bucky’s dumb wolf face he settles for thumping his forehead against Bucky’s dumb furry chest.

“No no,” Tony says, fighting down a laugh because honestly, “no arguing while you have monster bits, that’s the deal we worked out. Because this has happened enough that we have a deal, which I feel really proves my point here nicely.”

Bucky huffs out a breath that sounds a lot like a laugh and wraps around him a little tighter, his giant, clawed hands resting so carefully on Tony’s hip, in the small of his back. And really, who could blame Tony for melting into it? One of these days, Tony is going to pause his lifelong vow of hating magic just long enough to ask Strange why all of these spells so far have had Bucky’s metal arm growing along with the rest of him, although come to think of it Tony doesn’t want to even consider the alternative.

Tony is broken out of his thoughts when he breathes in and realizes that the big dumb softie of a werewolf wrapped around him still smells like Bucky. Not that Tony is complaining about not getting a face full of dog-smell, but it wouldn’t have surprised him. Bucky just smells like himself though, clean soup and the shampoo he claims he doesn’t steal from Tony and always a little bit like metal. He can feel Bucky sniffing him right back, which is not surprising all things considered, his breath warm and a little ticklish as his cold nose presses against Tony’s neck. He squirms when Bucky sniffs harder at the hollow of his throat, giving into the urge to laugh as he shoves uselessly at Bucky’s side.

“Alright alright, you know what I smell like,” Tony says, squirming harder as Bucky’s nose shifts, easily pressing into the back of his neck with how much taller than him Bucky currently is. “Stop,” Tony says with another laugh, “we have to make our bi-weekly call to the wizard to fix our weird problems.”

Bucky doesn’t let him go though, if anything he just clutches Tony tighter, curls down around him closer and tries to shove his snout down the back of Tony’s shirt.

“Hey, this is my favorite shirt and you’re stretching it out, Fido,” Tony complains, shoving at him a little harder and then huffing when Bucky just responds with another loud sniff. “Seriously, what are you- I cannot smell good... oh-”

And then like a bolt of heat straight to his core it hits Tony. They came straight up here once the mission debrief was over, because Tony insisted they could take a nice long shower together after he finished with these panels. And before that, they’d started what should have been a day off with slow, lazy sex, Bucky drapped over his back and biting at the curve of his shoulder. If Bucky has a wolfy sense of smell to go along with everything else-

“You can smell that, can’t you?” Tony asks with a breathless laugh, and Bucky’s grip on him is the only thing that keeps him from swaying on his feet as all of his blood rushes south. He doesn’t need to specify what he means, Bucky’s grip on him gets a little tighter as he rumbles out a low growl that sure sounds affirmative.

Tony can’t even be surprised at himself when arousal is instantly flaring to life in his gut, his cock giving a little twitch of interest as it starts to swell, and Bucky rumbles against him with intent. Tony doesn’t waste any time bothering to wonder if he should, or what it says about him.

He already knows exactly where this is going and he doesn’t want to put up a fight, so he drags in a shuddering breath so he can suggest maybe they forget the solar panels. They can head back to their room for a couple hours and then call Strange, because what’s another couple days of limping around the compound while all of their friends judge him? But apparently Bucky is too impatient for even that, because he starts tugging at Tony’s clothes with his giant hands, his claws catching at the fabric.

“Again, my favorite shirt,” Tony says flatly, and then squawks when he hears fabric beginning to strain. Thankfully Bucky finally relents and pulls his big wolfy muzzle out of the straining collar of Tony’s shirt, but Tony’s attempts to shoot him an unimpressed look go unnoticed because Bucky has moved on to sniffing at his chest and dragging giant hands down Tony’s sides. “Wait, let me-” Tony starts to say and then cuts off with a sharp gasp when Bucky’s hands drag over his ass, huge and warm, claws catching at the seams of his jeans before moving on.

Tony’s legs wobble beneath him again as what little blood isn’t already in his cock races that direction, taking him to fully hard so quickly that it makes his head spin. Bucky curls down around him again, leaning into him and nearly knocking him over, and Tony tightens his fingers in Bucky’s fur before he can actually topple over backwards. One of Bucky’s hands shifts to his lower back and then abruptly the world is spinning around him before Tony finds himself gently and carefully laid out on his back.

“Oh we are so doing this,” Tony says breathlessly, his hips bucking up against nothing as his cock gives an excited throb, and he’s pretty sure the toothy look on Bucky’s face is supposed to be a smug grin. Bucky’s hands shift to the front of his jeans but Tony quickly bats them away, saying, “No no, you are not ripping my clothes though, I am not walking back to our room naked. Again.”

Bucky whines, soft and impatient, but instead rests his hands on either side of Tony’s hips and his fingers spread so wide across the rough gravel of the roof that for a second Tony just gets caught up staring. When Bucky whines again and nudges at his stomach, pushing Tony’s shirt up a little with his surprisingly cold nose, Tony gets with the program and starts fumbling the button of his jeans open with shaking hands.

Tony sighs in relief as he shoves his pants down past his hips, then yelps when Bucky immediately starts nosing at the line of his cock through his boxers, dragging in deep breaths. Tony's hands fly up to grab at the fur of Bucky's neck again as his hips buck up into the contact, letting out a moan that gets louder when Bucky's wide, wet tongue flicks out to taste the damp spot already spreading over the head of Tony's cock.

"That- fuck-" Tony gasps out, tossing his head back and ignoring the crunch of the roof gravel beneath him, “that is- a big tongue, holy fuck-”

Bucky huffs out a hard breath that sounds a lot like a laugh, but Tony can’t really care if he’s being mocked when Bucky’s tongue is continuing to drag along the line of his cock. The fabric of his boxers is quickly soaked through, clinging to his skin, and Tony lets out a weak groan as his cock gives a hard throb.

“Wait, wait-” Tony says, shoving at Bucky’s head again, then squeaks when Bucky lifts his head enough to look up at him, struck all over again by how huge Bucky is hovering over him. When Bucky whines impatiently and noses at his lower stomach Tony laughs softly and says “let me get out of my clothes at least. I’d ask if this impatience is a werewolf thing, but we both know you’re always like this.”

Bucky responds with another huff and a barely-there nip of his sharp teeth against Tony’s hip that has shocks running across Tony’s skin. It takes a moment for Tony to gather the brainpower to actually hook his thumbs beneath the hem of his boxers, then he’s shoving them down to his thighs along with his jeans. Tony only has a split second to shiver at the rush of cool air over his flushed cock before Bucky’s tongue is on him again, and Tony’s next breath comes out a shuddering moan.

“O-oh, fuck,” Tony groans as the long, warm line of Bucky’s tongue easily covers his entire cock, dragging up the length and lapping up his precum and drenching him in spit. Bucky’s tongue is a deep red against his skin, his dark fur making him more of a shadow than anything else, and Tony tips his head back again as he gasps out “d- oh, don’t stop- fuck that’s so good-”

Tony pulls his knees up and his heels scrape through the gravel as he scrabbles for purchase, but finally his feet catch against the surface of the roof and he can arch his hips up into the next drag of Bucky’s tongue. It’s wide, and flexible, enough to nearly wrap all the way around Tony’s cock as Bucky licks up the length of it, and Tony shakes.

“Bu- Bucky,” he manages to get out around breathy moans, his fingers tightening in Bucky’s fur as he shoves his hips up harder, “ohh- god, fuck, ah-”

More spit gathers on Tony’s skin with every slide of Bucky’s tongue, pooling in the dips of his hips and running down his sides, soaking into his shirt where it’s barely pushed up to his chest. When the tip of Bucky’s hot tongue dips down to lap over his balls, and then further back to curl behind and around them, Tony groans breathlessly as he has to tear his eyes away again. He shifts his feet as far apart as he can with his pants still trapped above his knees, trying to make more space between his thighs, then arches his back harder to let Bucky’s tongue slide further back between the swells of his ass before it drags up over his cock again. Tony’s spine is arched so sharply that it almost hurts, most of his body bowing up off the ground as he tries to meet the next swipe of Bucky’s long tongue.

“Fuck- g-god, Bucky-” Tony moans as he tosses his head back and forth against the roof, gravel catching in his hair and his entire body trembling. “That’s- I, fuck-” Tony’s broken attempts at words cut off when one of his heels slips against the roof and he abruptly collapses back down against the ground with a strangled yelp. “Fuck, c’mon,” Tony groans, hips bucking up again, and Bucky lets out another huff of laughter that has Tony shivering at the wash of wet air over his wet skin.

He makes a noise of complaint when Bucky nudges at the side of his hip with his cold nose, instead of getting back to giving Tony the weirdest, messiest and hottest blowjob of his life, but Bucky just huffs softly and nudges at him harder until Tony gets with the program. He rolls over and props himself up on his knees and elbows, his jeans providing at least a little protection to his knees. Not that his knees are actually Tony’s biggest concern right now, he’s too busy bracing his head against his crossed forearms and trying to steady his shaking legs, and it's a good thing he does because in the next second Bucky’s tongue is on him again, sliding wetly all the way up his crack from his balls to the small of his back, and Tony gasps as his entire body jolts hard.

“Bucky,” Tony whines, and then gasps as Bucky licks him again, slow and teasing, “you know- fuck, please, please you know what I- Ah!”

Tony wails when on the next slide the tip of Bucky’s wide tongue pauses against his hole, firm and wet and lingering. Tony is reduced to breathy sounds as Bucky slowly applies more pressure, coaxing Tony’s body open, until the tip of that thick tongue can dip inside and when Bucky growls Tony can feel it rumble through every inch of him. Bucky’s tongue ripples inside him, pressing deeper and knocking another whining moan out of Tony, before withdrawing to dip between his thighs. Bucky laps over his balls and the base of his cock where it hangs throbbing between his thighs, then drags up to sink into his hole again, pressing a little deeper before beginning the process over.

“Ohh,” Tony moans and when his thighs shake beneath him Bucky’s hands wrap around his hips again, holding him in place. “Ye- god yes, that’s- fuck, don’t stop don’t stop-”

The next time Bucky’s tongue flicks down over his cock Tony feels his balls pull up tight, his building orgasm winding his gut up tight and his desperate moan turns into a pitiful whine when Bucky switches to licking teasingly along the insides of his shaking thighs. Tony whines again and tries to buck his hips demandingly, but Bucky’s grip on him holds firm.

“Bucky,” he groans pleadingly and the next time Bucky’s tongue thrusts into him his arms shake too, “I’m... please I’m so close-” Tony’s forehead slips where it’s resting on his arm, his entire body coated in sweat, and when he has to readjust he makes the mistake of glancing down at Bucky between his thigh. The sight has Tony sucking in a sharp, shuddering gasp as the heated knot in his core twists tighter.

His entire body is flushed and there’s spit dripping down his thighs, down his drawn-up balls and his cock, mixing with the precum spilling out of him constantly to pool beneath him on the roof. And then there’s Bucky, his hands huge on Tony’s hips, nearly spanning down to his thighs, and Bucky is just an intimidating shadow crouched behind him, all dark fur and flashes of sharp teeth when his head dips down to lap at Tony’s thighs again.

Tony groans raggedly as a hard shudder runs through him, his inner muscles fluttering around Bucky’s tongue as it plunges into him again. “Fuck- fuck-” Tony sobs out as he tries and fails to rock himself back onto Bucky’s tongue, completely unable to move, “please, please I’m- god, Bucky- ohh fuck-”

Tony is abruptly grateful for Bucky’s grip on him as he starts to come and his entire body throbs with it, his cock twitching and spilling against Bucky’s tongue still licking over him like he’s trying to catch every drop. Even when the tremors running through Tony’s body begin to slow, Bucky continues dragging his tongue up and down the swell of Tony’s ass, flicking over his twitching hole, and every drag has Tony hiccuping out hitching moans.

“Bucky,” He finally chokes out as a sharp twinge of oversensitivity shoots through him and then sighs when Bucky’s tongue finally falls away, although it’s just to make another attempt at cleaning up Tony’s thighs and really just smearing more slobber around. “Fuck,” Tony sighs again as he can finally relax a little, tiny shocks of pleasure still running through him as he struggles to catch his breath.

Bucky rumbles out a low, happy sound behind him that Tony is pretty sure would be classified as ‘self-satisfied’, and then slowly releases his grip on Tony’s hips, making sure Tony isn’t going to collapse as soon as he lets go. Tony does wobble a little bit, but manages to keep himself upright as Bucky crawls over him, fur tickling along Tony’s back and shoulders along with rapid puffs of hot breath.

When Bucky noses at the back of his neck with a soft whine Tony hums and says “Don’t even think about licking me, I know where that tongue has been.”

Bucky lets out a bark of laughter and ducks his head to nuzzle at the curve of Tony’s neck, and Tony grins proudly. As he comes back to himself Tony becomes aware of the breeze blowing past them, a shiver running through him as it cools the sweat collected on his skin, and Bucky hunches down over him a little closer with a soft exhale.

It makes Tony gasp when he feels what has to be Bucky’s cock bumping against the back of his thigh, a thick, wet and impossibly hot line. The burn of arousal, which had been slowly fading, comes roaring back to life in Tony’s gut as his now-empty hole clenches around nothing. Tony lets his breath out in a hard rush and collects enough muscle control to shift his weight beneath Bucky, moving just enough that Bucky’s cock slips between his thighs to press up against his balls and the underside of his cock.

“Oh, hello there,” Tony says shakily and Bucky huffs again, but his hips buck forward just a little to grind his cock between Tony’s thighs and Tony can feel the slight tremble on Bucky’s muscles as he tries to stop himself.

So the next time Bucky’s hips barely roll forward Tony shoves himself back to meet him, doing his best to clench his thighs around Bucky’s cock as it slides between them. Tony can’t tell if it’s because his thighs are so slick with spit or because Bucky has been leaking copious amounts of precum, or both, but either way the slide of Bucky’s cock between his thighs is slick and easy, spreading warmth through Tony’s entire body.

Bucky goes still, clearly hesitating, and Tony’s not sure if it’s that he’s worried about losing control or what, but god does Tony want to feel him, wants more. And Tony trusts him, as far as he’s concerned the fact that Bucky is even worried about it is all the reassurance he needs that Bucky won’t lose control. So he grinds himself back against Bucky encouragingly, letting out a breathy hum when the thick line of Bucky’s cock drags alongside his own half-hard cock.

“C'mon honey," Tony gasps out, shoving himself back to meet the next barely-there roll of Bucky's hips, "use me, let me feel you- oh- show me what you've got, Wolfman."

Bucky snarls, sharp and sudden like it's being torn out of him, and the gravel of the roof crunches beneath his giant paws as he thrusts forward hard. It's enough to knock a startled cry out of Tony as his entire body lurches forward with the force of it, heat rushing through him as the entire length of Bucky's cock slides between his thighs and he gets an idea of just how long it is. Tony really wants to see it, but not quite enough to pull away so he settles for glancing down beneath himself and even that's enough to have him moaning loudly.

"Oh, f-fuck, look- ah- look at you," Tony breathes out, his voice shaking slightly with every rough shove of Bucky's hips. He has to blink sweat out of his eyes so he can better drag his eyes over the bright red shape of Bucky's cock, it's probably twice as thick as Tony's own, although to be fair to himself Tony has gone mostly soft by now, and if anything Bucky is longer than Tony had guessed. And the tip of it, sharply tapered and flushed a darker red than the shaft and giving Tony ideas. "Wow, that- ah- that really wolfed you all o-over, huh?" Tony asks with a shaking laugh and then gasps when Bucky ruts against him again.

Bucky curls down around him closer and hooks his chin over Tony's shoulder, breathing heavily as he fucks his werewolf cock between Tony's shaking thighs. A particularly hard thrust has Tony almost overbalancing, his spine pulling into a sharper bow as his arms slip against the roof, and his startled yelp is almost drowned out by the way Bucky snarls when his cock slips free from between Tony's thighs to instead slide up between the swells of his ass. Tony can feel the warmth of Bucky's precum smearing across his skin, dripping onto the small of his back, and Tony arches his back harder with a soft groan as Bucky begins to rock his hips back.

On the next thrust the tapered head of Bucky's cock barely catches against his hole and Tony gasps sharply, his eyes flying open. He's so loose and sloppy that with even that light, unintentional pressure Tony can feel his hole fluttering and trying to open, trying to let him in. Bucky makes a deep whining sound, desperate and almost pained, but shifts so his cock slides away and up between Tony's checks again. Tony can feel his hole twitching and clenching against Bucky's shaft as it drags against him, so long and thick and fuck even Tony is surprised at the hard flash of want that goes through him.

“Oh god," he chokes out and his cock is quickly filling again, too soon and almost painful but Tony doesn't care, "that's- that feels- fuck-"

When Bucky starts to roll his hips back again Tony just knows he's going to try to shift his cock back down to the safety of between his thighs, which means this is Tony's best chance. He waits until the head of Bucky's cock drags over his hole again, narrow and barely intimidating at all. Then shoves himself up into it, arching his back just right so that Bucky's cock barely presses into him, and it's as slick and easy as Tony hoped. Bucky's entire body jerks above him as he throws his head back with a loud, ringing howl and then snaps his hips forward sharply to shove a tiny bit deeper.

In the next second though Bucky is starting to withdraw with a mournful whine, and Tony hurries to wheeze out "wait- please, please I want it, fuck me."

Bucky whines again, this time with a questioning lift to it, so Tony forces his brain back online enough that he can shift his weight to support himself on one arm. With his newly freed hand Tony shakily reaches out for one of Bucky's massive paws where it’s braced near Tony's shoulder, and he can only grab two of Bucky's thick, clawed fingers, but it's enough to give them a reassuring squeeze.

"I can take it," Tony promises, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible even though he's literally shaking with arousal, "I can- I want it, god please honey, wanna feel you stretch me open, fill me up, wanna feel you come like this, please- ahh!" His grip on Bucky's fingers spasms as Bucky's hips hitch forward slightly, testing, pressing that tiny bit deeper and already it's so good. "Yes," Tony groans eagerly, hurrying to brace himself again, "C'mon, fuck me with that giant cock and really mark me up, make me your bitch-"

Bucky snarls again, deep and rumbling, and Tony's loud gasp is about the snap of sharp teeth beside his face just as much as it's about the way Bucky ruts against him hard. Before Tony can even form the words for mere pleading Bucky is continuing the rolls of his hips, pressing in, in. With every short thrust Bucky fucks into him a little deeper, working his thick cock relentlessly into Tony and every bit seems to drag along his every nerve.

“Fuck, fuck,” Tony chants as he tries to brace himself harder against the way every thrust rocks him in place, trying to keep his arms and legs from collapsing out from under him and trying to keep breathing. Every inch that sinks into him is thicker than the last, stretching his rim and spreading him wider, and when he realizes that he can actually feel the warmth of Bucks's precum spreading inside him Tony chokes out "ohh, god yes-"

With a loud growl Bucky curls down over him tighter, pressing his cock in impossibly deeper and shifting one of his arms so it wraps around in front of Tony, stopping him from sliding a little further away with each thrust. Tony chokes out a noise caught somewhere between pleasure and pain as he eagerly buries his fingers in the fur of Bucky's thick forearm, desperate for something to hold onto even as he can’t stop himself from trying to shove back to meet the roll of Bucky’s hips, doesn’t want to stop himself.

He can’t breathe, can’t think around the stretch of it, and just when he's sure that he can’t possibly take any more the soft fur of Bucky’s hips and stomach are pressed to his skin, as deep as he can go.

Tony’s first couple attempts at words come out as breathless, whining moans, a little terrified to even breathe too deeply in case he breaks completely apart. But he also needs Bucky to move before the anticipation and heady stretch of his giant cock just settled and gently twitching inside Tony drives him out of his mind.

“Fuck,” Tony finally manages to groan, every inch of him shaking and he's barely even aware of the fresh layer of sweat coating his skin, the throb of his own cock where its once again hanging fully hard between his thighs. All he cares about is working up enough air to gasp out, “I- please, move-”

When Bucky responds with a whine that sounds like it might be concern, shaking again like he's struggling to hold himself still, Tony summons up all the strength he possibly can and braces himself against Bucky's arm. Then he shoves himself back against Bucky, driving Bucky's cock a little deeper and grinding himself on it. Bucky lets out another loud growl, rumbling through the still air, and then rocks his hips in a short, shallow thrust.

It’s too much, knocking all the air out of Tony’s lungs and he’s sure that Bucky’s cock must be rearranging everything inside him. It's so good, and when Bucky’s hips jolt like he’s trying to stop Tony shoves himself back again. It's still so much, splitting Tony open until all he knows is the thick weight of it moving inside him, but with every tiny shift the spark of pleasure burns brighter and oh god he wants.

“C’mon,” Tony manages to find the air to gasp out in a voice that's already rough from overstimulation, and he ducks his face down against Bucky's arm to hopefully hide the tears gathering in his eyes. “C’mon baby," he pleads as his hips continue twitching in place, "lemme have it, take me, fuck me like you own this ass."

Apparently that’s all Bucky needs to hear, and the only warning Tony gets is the soft crunch of the roof beneath Bucky’s paws as he shifts his weight. Then he rolls his hips back so he can fuck into Tony hard, long and deep and Tony can feel all of him.

Tony cries out raggedly as Bucky starts fucking him for real, the tapered shape of his cock easily working in and out of his throbbing insides. The push and drag of it is completely unavoidable, inescapable, rocking Tony in place and steadily stretching him further open with every roll of Bucky’s hips. Every thrust jolts Tony forward into Bucky’s arm holding him in place, nearly lifting his knees off the ground with the force of it, and every shove seems to press deeper.

“Yes, yes- Bucky,” Tony sobs into Bucky’s fur and the waves of pleasure washing over him are overwhelming, the depth of Bucky’s thrusts knocking the air out of him and the width of Bucky’s cock meaning it presses against his prostate nearly constantly. “So- so good- ohh fuck,” he moans, the words pouring out of him without thought as he loses himself in it, “god, it- ah! So big, so fuckin- oh y-yes you feel so good-”

Tony’s stream of babble finally cuts off into a confused whimper when Bucky’s thrusts suddenly become shallower, something even wider trying to stretch his rim further. Then he realizes it’s a knot, Bucky really has been fully wolfed, and Tony is so far past rational thinking. All he knows it’s that he wants, he wants more, wants everything Bucky can possibly give him. He turns his head enough that he can meet Bucky’s eyes, planning to beg, and he only realizes tears have been spilling down his face when Bucky goes relatively still inside him and noses at his cheek with a concerned whine.

It takes some effort for Tony to find his words again, especially because he needs to make sure they’re the right words, he needs to reassure Bucky that he’s fine. “Do it,” is what he ends up saying though, his voice high and needy, so Tony just goes with it, “d- ahh- do it, come in me, k-knot me, please, Bucky-”

Bucky’s hips rock forward again to shove his knot against Tony’s rim, almost like a gut reaction, and then he noses at Tony’s face again before resuming his quick, brutal rhythm. Tony moans out broken attempts at words, scrabbling at Bucky’s arm and he’s not even sure if he’s trying to shove himself back into every thrust or just holding on at this point. Every time Bucky’s knot presses against him it feels bigger, like it’ll be impossible to fit inside him, and Tony’s moans start to rise in pitch until he’s practically sobbing. Bucky whines and starts to slow again, but like hell is Tony giving up that easily. He drags in a shuddering breath and relaxes as much as he can, curls his toes against the ground and presses his hips up, back, just a little more-

Bucky snarls loud and vicious as his knot finally pops past Tony’s rim, like some kind of goddamn bowling ball as it settles huge inside him, and then Bucky comes. Tony whines helplessly as Bucky’s cock throbs and spills deep inside him, so much of it, hot and thick and oh fuck Tony can feel the weight of it in his stomach. And the knot keeps him plugged up tight more than Tony ever could have expected, not letting any cum escape until Tony can feel the stretch of it in his skin, in his throat, until Tony feels like he’s one wrong move away from bursting open at every seam.

“Bucky, Bucky,” he whimpers and when a shudder runs through his entire body Tony becomes abruptly, painfully aware that his own cock is demandingly hard, but he’s a little terrified to do anything about it because that would require moving.

Bucky whines back, his wide tongue swiping up Tony’s bare shoulder before he rocks his hips forward, knot tugging at Tony’s sore rim and dragging another weak groan out of him. Tony’s every breath comes out as a hitching sound that’s apparently too close to a sob for Bucky’s comfort because presses his nose to the back of Tony’s neck with a worried sound.

Tony’s first attempt at words comes out as a choked moan, and he pats at Bucky’s arm as he drags in a shuddering breath. “I’m okay, I’m good,” Tony promises weakly even though he’s only about fifty percent sure that’s true, still half convinced that he’s about to burst.

Apparently Bucky doesn’t believe him either, because he whines again and he shifts the arm that Tony isn’t clinging to for dear life, using his giant hand to stroke along Tony’s side. It’s no doubt meant to be soothing, but every inch of Tony is lit up with oversensitivity and even the light brush of fur over his skin has his entire body trembling.

“Fuck, fuck,” Tony gasps, practically sobbing the words out as his muscles involuntary clench and it only highlights how stuffed completely full he is, every fiber of his being singing with something that’s he’s only pretty sure is pleasure. “God it’s- so much,” Tony chokes out, the words spilling out of him like they’re being forced out, like he’s hoping that by emptying his lungs he’ll be able to lessen the strain of everything inside him, “I feel- f-fuck, feel like I’m gonna burst an' it’s so good. Oh, fuck just- feel you everywhere, like y-you- ahh- fuckin’ hollowed me out- please-“

Tony doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, what more Bucky could do or what more he could possibly even take, he just knows that he wants. He’s full, he’s right at the edge and all he needs is the tiniest nudge to tumble over, but he’s also a little terrified that the intensity of his orgasm is just going to flat out kill him.

Apparently Tony said some or maybe all of that out loud, because Bucky huffs out a soft laugh against Tony’s shoulder and then his giant hand shifts from Tony’s hip to easily wrap around the front of his thigh, holding him in place as Bucky rolls his hips forward minutely. When Tony sobs out a breathless moan Bucky does it again, and again, grinding Tony in place on the thick stretch of his knot until Tony’s every breath is coming out nearly a scream, every muscle in his body pulling tighter and tighter and it just makes Bucky feel impossibly bigger inside him.

“Bucky-y-” Tony wails as tugs uselessly at Bucky’s fur and it doesn’t matter what he’s trying to accomplish, whether he’s begging for more or trying to escape. There’s no possible escape from Bucky’s hand holding him in place, tips of those dangerous nails just barely pressing into Tony’s skin, from the stretch of Bucky’s cock splitting him open and the weight of so much cum shifting inside him with every roll of Bucky’s hips, like Bucky is taking up all the space inside him. “Please,” Tony sobs out as he buries his face in Bucky’s arm, trying to arch his back harder, and then Bucky’s teeth close carefully over the curve of his shoulder to hold him in place for the next grind of Bucky’s hips and that’s it.

Tony can’t even make a sound, breath freezing in his lungs as overwhelming pleasure whites out everything that’s not the orgasm roaring through him. All he knows is that he can't stop clenching around Bucky’s cock with every white-hot wave of pleasure washing over him and it just makes everything feel like more. All he knows is the way his own cock throbs almost painfully as he finally spills, cum splatting the roof and running down his thighs as Tony writhes and thrashes in place. He can’t get far though, not with Bucky so thoroughly wrapped around him, splitting him open, still grinding into Tony as he shakes and moans.

Bucky releases his shoulder to howl again and Tony lets out another breathless moan at the feeling of Bucky’s cock twitching inside him again, spilling more as Tony can’t stop clenching around his knot. It sets off another avalanche of sparks beneath Tony's skin, dragging the pleasure out until Tony sobs helplessly and loses track of which way is up.

He comes back to himself slowly, his face still buried in Bucky’s fur and shaking nearly constantly as he tries to catch his breath.

Bucky’s hot, panting breath is still washing over his shoulder, Bucky’s knot still nearly splitting him open, but it’s less overwhelming now that Tony has gone almost completely boneless and his muscles all feel like putty. Slowly Bucky’s hand slides from his thigh to spread wide over Tony’s stomach, helping to hold him up as Tony’s legs shake, and he huffs softly when Tony takes that as his cue to go completely limp in Bucky’s hold.

“Holy fuck,” Tony finally finds the air to gasp out, his voice even more rough than he expected, “am I dead? I think I might be dead.”

Bucky just huffs out another breath and Tony is pretty sure he can feel him shaking his head before licking wetly over the curve of Tony’s shoulder. A shiver runs down Tony’s spine at all the little pinpricks of heat lighting up from where Bucky’s teeth were pressed into his skin and they both groan when it ends with him clenching around Bucky’s knot again, still swollen huge and inescapable inside him.

“Wasn’t I wearing a shirt?” Tony feels the need to ask, and then gasps when Bucky responds by gently gnawing on his shoulder again.

Eventually Tony’s knees start to protest the position too loudly to be drowned out by the lingering afterglow of pleasure, and before Tony can do more than make an indecisive noise of complaint Bucky is carefully rolling them onto their sides. He keeps Tony tucked in tight against him the whole time, pulling Tony up onto his soft fur as much as possible and making sure his other arm is under Tony’s head as a pillow.

“Oh fuck,” Tony groans at the feeling of so much cum shifting inside him with the movement, fanning the low burn of arousal still churning in his gut, “oh, I’m gonna throw up-”

Bucky lets out a soft disgusted noise that makes Tony giggle, more than a little giddy as he settles back against Bucky. He firmly tells himself not to try rocking back on Bucky’s cock, just to see what it’ll feel like, and almost like he can hear Tony’s thoughts Bucky wraps his other arm around over Tony’s hips to keep him still. It has the added benefit of blocking a bit of wind, and the metal of his arm is relatively warm, so Tony decides not to fight it.

“Don’t know why you’re grossed out, I’d be throwing up your cum,” Tony points out, and then laughs again when Bucky makes a conflicted noise and his cock gives a tiny twitch. “Never did get to those solar panels,” Tony mutters to himself with a final breathy laugh, voice slurred and lazy, and the next thing he knows he’s falling asleep.

BREAK

Tony wakes up because dawn light is stabbing through his eyelids and as soon as he’s fully awake FRIDAY is getting a stern talking to about not blacking out the windows. Maybe even a light reprogramming about it, too.

Except when Tony tries to bury his face in his pillow with a groan he finds that his pillow is actually Bucky’s arm and right, they fell asleep on the roof after Bucky turned into a werewolf and fucked him stupid. Just a day in the life.

He starts to push himself up only to find Bucky’s arm tightening around him, keeping him pinned in tight.

“I can’t believe you made me sleep on the roof, mostly naked,” Tony grumbles without any heat and gives up on convincing his limbs to move, which they were not happy about anyways. So he just snuggles back against Bucky again and does his best to ignore all the places that roof gravel is digging into his skin.

“I didn’t make you,” Bucky protests with a low laugh that rumbles against Tony’s back, “you were th’ one who was completely unconscious.” One of his hand shifts to carefully drag his fingertips over the scratches Tony hadn’t even noticed on his elbows, no doubt also courtesy of Tony’s friend the gravel.

“Your fault,” Tony insists, lifting his own arm to poke Bucky in the side, and when he attempts to push himself upright again Bucky lets him. The loud groan that Tony lets out is only a little bit an act, every inch of him aches and the deep, hot feeling settled in his hips is something above that. “We should definitely head downstairs before someone comes looking for us,” Tony says, though he’s sure Bucky knows the actual reason is so that Tony can sprawl out in bed and enjoy the ache.

“Of course,” Bucky says as he sits up as well, “wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re a freak.”

Tony pretends to swat at him and says “just for that, I’m not going to fetch you clothes. You can walk back to our room naked, and I won’t enjoy this punishment at all.” Bucky just hums and leans in to kiss the fake-pout off his face, and by the time he pulls away Tony is smiling widely. “So, do you remember if the ‘High Kind Druid’ happened to say if this would be permanent?” Tony asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and then grins wider when Bucky laughs.

“I don’t think he mentioned,” Bucky says, and then an incredibly thoughtful look takes over his face. It’s more than a little out of place considering their current situation, and Tony feels his eyebrows raise with curiosity as he does he best to patiently wait Bucky out. “Y’know,” Bucky eventually says slowly, “wolves do mate for life. Somethin’ to keep in mind, in case it is permanent. Or, y’know, even in case it’s not.”

For a second Tony can only stare at him, completely dumbfounded. A small part of him feels guilty as Bucky starts to look more and more nervous with every passing second, but mostly Tony can’t believe this is happening.

“Are you kidding?” Tony demands, pushing himself up to his also-scraped-up knees and trying not to get distracted by the feeling of an incredible amount of cool wetness running down his thigh. “That’s how you’re going to bring it up? How you’re going propose spending the rest of our lives together? Really?” When he pauses to take a breath Bucky opens his mouth to respond, but Tony has more to say and he just keeps on going, “I have a ring, I have a plan, and you’re going to bring it up casually while I still have werewolf cum leaking out of me?!”

Bucky breaks out into wild, delighted laughter, the smile on his face so wide that his eyes shine with it and just looking at him makes Tony’s heart ache more than any other part of him.

So really, Tony has no choice but to throw himself at Bucky, knocking him onto his back and smashing their mouths together for a long, messy kiss. By the time they break apart Tony’s head is spinning and even Bucky is a little breathless, his smile still just as wide.

“Now say yes, baby,” Bucky says quietly, his voice perfectly caught between a plea and a demand.

“You say yes,” Tony shoots back, “when I actually ask you.”

Bucky laughs again and pulls him down into another kiss, and they don’t break apart until Tony’s sore muscles start demanding a hot bath.

Gathering up the remains of their clothes is a bit of an event with the realization that Bucky’s clothes are completely shredded, and Tony makes sure to give Bucky the stink eye as he carefully collects the ribbons of his favorite shirt. At least Tony still has his jeans intact, if forever stained, so he heads for the door first to make sure the coast is clear. For their teammates sake, if nothing else.

When Tony pulls the roof door open he finds a note stuck to the inside, and he’s not sure if he should laugh or cry when he sees what’s on it. He recognizes the stick figure doodle as Clint’s instantly, and it’s clearly of Clint, sobbing while stabbing his own eyes out with an arrow.

“Oops,” Bucky says, not a hint of shame in his voice, and when Tony glances over he’s smirking widely.

Tony is going to marry the fuck out of him. He has a ring and a plan and everything, and he knows Bucky will say yes.

[youhideastar]

Deleted scenes from "scarcely trust my candid heart"

Hello! I know it's been a couple months since I posted new fic, but the beta/beta installment of Wangxian A/B/O Bingo, scarcely trust my candid heart, is up now! 7 down, 2 to go. Below are a few deleted scenes from the new fic - they contain spoilers, so I'd read the fic first.

By “deleted scenes,” I really mean “four different versions of the ending, plus one actual deleted scene.” Why did it take me five versions to get an ending I liked?

Well, this fic has an inherent tone problem. It’s 33% farce and 66% smut, and the style changes pretty drastically when we make the switch here from farce to smut. The sections are much longer—indeed, the smut is just one long continuous section, whereas the farce is broken up into dozens of smaller moments. The smart thing to do would have been to separate them out into two separate fics, honestly. But I didn’t want to do the smart thing. I really love a lot of pieces of the smut scene, and I think they’d lose a lot from being taken out of the context of the farce sections. The fic I wanted to write, in my heart, had both. So instead of performing a separation, I revised and revised and revised to try to make the tone of the smut match the tone of the farce as closely as I possibly could—and I took more than 5 whacks at the ending, because the ending has to do so much work in tying the smut back to the farce at the very end and making it feel like one cohesive fic.

So here’s Attempt No. 1:

“At first, I just wanted Lan Zhan’s attention. And then I wanted Lan Zhan to like me, and then I wanted Lan Zhan to—”

Beat.

“What?”

Beat.

“Keep me, maybe,” Wei Ying says, looking nervous. “Be my… my special person, like we talked about.” Beat. She fidgets. “Lan Zhan is so good. Nobody else is as good. Nobody else could be. So… that’s why. But if Lan Zhan doesn’t—”

“I will keep Wei Ying.”

“Oh, you will, will you?”

“Mn.”

No interest in locking someone up—

“If—only if Wei Ying wants to be kept. By me.”

“Mm, I do,” Wei Ying says without hesitation, eyes clear and bright. “As long as I can keep Lan Zhan, too.”

“Mn.”

“Mn?”

“I… yes. Wei Ying may. Keep me.”

A wordless noise of delight, and a kiss.

“Lan Zhan.” With mischief.

A look of what?

“Lan Zhan likes me. Lan Zhan liked me all along! Even when she was being so mean, and glaring at me and calling me shameless—”

Disgruntled look.

“You can’t put that spell on me now, Lan-jiejie – if you did, I couldn’t kiss you, and you’d be sad.”

The last few lines, and the callback to the “not wanting to lock someone up” part of the very first scene of the fic, made it into the final posted version. But this version of the ending didn’t go far enough in tying the ending back to the beginning, and it was also kind of redundant – the characters say the same thing multiple times.

Note also that the emphasis here is on Wei Ying and what she wants – nothing wrong with that in the abstract, but it draws this version even farther away from the beginning of the fic, which is very single-mindedly focused on Lan Wangji and what she wants, and it draws even farther away from the thematic content (such as it is), which is about Lan Wangji coming to accept that her previous understanding of herself was wrong.

So let’s take a look at Attempt No. 2:

Lan Wangji’s ears burn, but she is pleased – makes me wet, not made. A piece of evidence to add to the case she has started to build: the case that perhaps this was not purely a whim for Wei Ying. That she has, perhaps, had the kind of thoughts about Lan Wangji that have so plagued Lan Wangji about her.

Eventually, Wei Ying loses interest in her licking and flicks her gaze over Lan Wangji’s body, smiling. “Let me clean us up, ah, Lan-jiejie?”

Lan Wangji frowns. She is enjoying the physical proof of Wei Ying’s pleasure and is in no hurry to have it wiped away.

Wei Ying presses a placating kiss to her shoulder. “I know, I know, it feels nice now! But it won’t feel nice when it’s all cold and sticky.”

“Hm.” Lan Wangji is not convinced. But she allows it.

When Wei Ying is finished wiping them both down with a wet cloth, she rises from the bed and turns away. Reaching for her discarded inner robe, she begins to cross the room to the other bed.

Lan Wangji’s breath catches, frozen in a sudden panic—perhaps she was wrong. Again. Perhaps this was nothing but a whim, or a—a pedagogical exercise. Perhaps her fantasies of Wei Ying in the sunlight were misplaced after all.

Wei Ying is crouching by the side of the bed now, looking worried. “Lan Zhan, what’s wrong?”

Nothing, Lan Wangji almost says. It is—mortifying, to want these things. She has been wrong about a great deal, but she was not wrong about that.

But—she does want them. And simply assuming that she cannot have them: she has traveled that road before. It is unbecoming for a Lan disciple to accept ignorance, out of cowardice. Be diligent and undaunted in the pursuit of knowledge.

“Wei Ying said I can have—a special person,” she begins.

“You can,” Wei Ying confirms, with an encouraging smile. “For sure you can.”

“Wei Ying said she liked me so much.”

“Oh.” Wei Ying bites her lip. Pink blooms on her cheeks, and she looks away. “I—do.”

“Wei Ying said we could do this every day.”

Wei Ying’s eyes narrow. “I’m not sure I remember that part.” Then she smiles, mischievous. “But I won’t say it sounds bad.”

Lan Wangji nods, satisfied. She knows what she needs to know about Wei Ying. And she thinks she knows what she needs to know about herself.

“I told Shufu, when I was twelve years old, that I was not interested in marriage.”

“Is that how all this started?”

“But I was wrong.”

“O-oh. Uh…”

“I am interested in marriage.” Beat. “I do not wish to be alone always.”

“Lan Zhan…”

“And giggling is… acceptable.” LWJ very reluctant to admit this. “If it is Wei Ying.”

“Well. That’s very big of you.”

“Mn.”

“If Wei Ying does not wish to marry me…”

No desire to lock someone up…

“Well, it’s a little sudden!” QB “But I—do like Lan Zhan, so much. So.” Beat. “Engaged? Maybe?”

Lan Wangji decides not to inform Wei Ying that they are already engaged.

Big chunks of this—especially the very end—made it into the final version. But overall, this attempt is too long, and has too many inflection points – in other words, too many points where Lan Wangji has to make a decision. Each one makes the others seem less important. You can tell, reading this, that it’s sort of 3 separate endings mashed together.

There are things I like about it, though! The focus is on Lan Wangji this time – that’s correct. I love the “pedagogical exercise” bit (it will resurface later) and “fantasies of Wei Ying in the sunlight.” And I still really like the idea of Lan Wangji grappling with the mortifying ordeal of coming clean about her feelings, and needing to stiffen her own spine a bit with some fortifying quotations of the principles.

If Attempt No. 2 was two steps forward, Attempt No. 3 is one step back:

Quietly, she says, “Lan Zhan can have a special person. Does she maybe… want me to be her special person? At least—for a little while?”

Lan Wangji hesitates. There is only one possible answer to this question, but it is mortifying.

Wei Ying stiffens at her delay, and pulls away. “Of course, Lan Zhan only just learned about all this!” she says, with desperate brightness. “Of course, Lan Zhan will want to—to play the field, try out all the other beautiful jiejies who—”

“Wei Ying. We are married.”

Wei Ying’s jaw drops. For a moment, there is silence.

Then, faintly, she says, “M-married?”

“Mn.”

“Lan Zhan. ‘Mn’ is not an explanation.”

I love some Wei Wuxian insecurity, especially when Lan Wangji then turns around and nukes said insecurity, but this isn’t really the fic for that. And it puts the spotlight back on Wei Wuxian’s thought processes instead of Lan Wangji’s, which is a step in the wrong direction. That said, “Mn is not an explanation” is a line I’m definitely stealing from myself and using in some future fic. It’s too good to sit on the scrap heap.

On to Attempt No. 4:

“Is that how all this got started,” Wei Ying mutters, looking fascinated.

“Mn. Due to… comments made in response to that statement, I—believed that marriage was not available to me. That—intimacy of this kind was not available to me.”

Beat.

“In Cold Pond Cave. When I tied us together with my ribbon.��

“Oh, shit, that—that’s a Lan marriage?”

“Mn.” Slight pause. “An engagement at the very least.”

“Lan Zhan!! I can’t believe you married me without telling me!” QB “Lan Zhan, you are the most frustrating person in the world – you married me and I didn’t even think you liked me, you made me crazy trying to get your attention—”

“Wei Ying.” Beat. “Even when I believed I did not want to be married. I married you. Even when I believed I did not want—lovemaking. The thought of you made me want.”

“Lan Zhan.”

“Even when I believed I wanted to be alone. I looked forward to your company.”

“Lan Zhan, you…”

“Even giggling is… not so bad. If it is Wei Ying.”

Beat.

“Okay, well, I—didn’t really understand the giggling part, but—I think… I think Lan Zhan does want to be my special person. And not just for a little while.”

“Always.”

The focus is back on Lan Wangji’s thought processes, which is right, and we’ve brought back the “I do want marriage, don’t want to be alone, giggling is okay” triptych from Attempt No. 2, which makes it into the final fic. Ultimately, this version is just trying to do too much – it depends a lot on cleanness of rhetorical rhythm (“even when I thought I couldn’t want X, I wanted it with you. Even when I thought I couldn’t do Y, I tried to do it with you,” etc.), but couldn’t maintain it because it required all these Lan Wangji mental asides, which broke up the flow. I really liked the beat of expressly stating that Lan Wangji drove Wei Wuxian just as crazy as Wei Wuxian drove her, but the final version manages to imply that without having to insert a bunch of Wei Wuxian dialogue when the focus is supposed to be on Lan Zhan’s realizations about herself.

Hopefully you agree that the posted version of the ending is the best of the options on display, but even if you don’t, I’m still happy – all 5 versions are my writing, so it’s a compliment either way!

Finally, an actual deleted scene:

In the morning, while Wei Ying is still sleeping, Lan Wangji composes and posts a letter to her uncle. It is short, and to the point.

Shufu,

Wangji writes to correct a misimpression. She is, in fact, interested in marriage. The misimpression arose from the fact that, regrettably, Wangji is only interested in marriage to Wei Ying. Wangji apologizes most sincerely for the misunderstanding. And for her taste.

With deepest respect,

Lan Wangji

I considered putting this at the very end. It would have put a cute little bow on the story, given Lan Qiren another moment in the sun (I feel a little bad that we never come back to him after that first scene, where he’s trying so hard but his advice is totally misconstrued!), and hopefully it makes you laugh.

But first of all, it’s redundant – the important thing is Lan Wangji admitting to herself that her life was ruled by this misunderstanding about betas. Having her admit it to a third party who doesn’t show up that much in the fic doesn’t add much value. And second, it’s out of character because it’s disloyal. Lan Wangji might think in her internal narration that being only interested in Wei Ying is “regrettable,” but she’s MUCH too loyal, classy, and courteous to ever say that to another person (and she wouldn’t mean it even to herself). And she certainly wouldn’t insult Wei Ying by apologizing for her taste in partners.

I hope you enjoyed and/or found this interesting! Always let me know if you have questions or thoughts to share, or if you’d like to see a more detailed commentary on a part of this fic or one of my others. I enjoy doing it, and I’m happy to chat!

[zydrateacademy]

Hogwarts Legacy: First Impressions

I said my piece. My reasons haven’t changed. So let’s talk about the game.

I’ve never played a Harry Potter game before this, because they all seemed to just play through the book and movie plot lines over and over again. Sometimes as Lego people. I read the books, watched the movies, and therefore held no interest in the franchises foray into my favored hobby. Until now, because this is literally the game I’ve been waiting for. My own character, their own stories. Right out of the gate I will say the plotline is a little reminiscent of the original plot. However it still twists and turns the original stuff to keep it at least moderately fresh while still being familiar.

You are still “the special” as someone who can see and use traces of “ancient magic” which never goes named, just repeated as “ancient” through the course of the game. Effectively decided to be the only one to deal with the local problem, a sort of goblin rebellion leader who’s tapping into that same magic as a way to brute-force it, notable by the usual coded Red Equals Evil media coding that we’ve seen before (read: Dark Side, or the red lyrium from Dragon Age, countless examples). Some of the plot involves you circumnavigating those machinations while still focusing on school work, much in the same way the original plot lines did. We get the same scene of sneaking into the forbidden library, the room of requirement, and other things. While you have some assistance from other students, they are mercifully not joined at the hip throughout every single adventure. You solo your way through caves and dungeons, the few other students just help grease the wheels a bit as they teach you new spells or introduce hidden areas. I’m particularly fond of Sebastian, your local Slytherin teammate who seems to lead you into all things forbidden and I’m here for it. Still, there are moments that make you think “oh, come on”. The potions professor basically just looks like Alan Rickman but with some facial hair. Perhaps a more agreeable attitude but is still gruff with the students.There’s even a couple of Dumbledore-likes with outfits highly reminiscent of what we’ve seen him wear in the movies.

The pacing of the game, eight hours in, is wonderful. I’ve only had two run-ins with the goblins in the main story (and two other bandit camp encounters), but as far a the main bad guy goes, just the once post-prologue. The game is paced excellently, as it gives you the main plot in bite sized chunks while so far the meat of the game is doing what your character came here for; learning magic. Part of what enchanted those of my age bracket back when we were young; yearning for school work that was more interesting that bored, underpaid teachers droning on about math. Every time a class mission comes up I get overjoyed not because the experience I’ve craved for some years, but also it usually means it has a practical reward by way of new spells and tools to help you traverse the world. It takes a few hours for you to get the broom but after getting there I understand why. By that point you’ve run on-foot to a couple of towns by necessity to finally earning it through a class mission was a joy; and probably one of my favorite moments in the game so far as you tour the skies of Hogwarts with some of the best music to fit the mood. Within all this is the combat, which reminds me of the original Fable but more modernized. There’s both a quick-shield to deflect certain spells as well as a dodge to just roll out of the way from things your shield wouldn’t do much against (like giant troll hammers). I play on normal (the difficulty affects the response time you get for dodging/deflecting) and battles can be quite frantic as you only have so much time to decide whether to deflect-stun or go the easier route of just dodging away while leaving your opponents unaffected by anything so you have to decide what to do after a roll. Combat is all about those split-second decisions and I rather enjoy it, and I haven’t felt overwhelmed quite yet except during on bandit camp encounter that I almost lost because it just threw more enemies at me than I was used to at the time. Learning curve ahoy.

It is perhaps not as much of an open world as one might think. There’s plenty to explore to find chests and loot, sometimes blocked by ways you don’t have access to quite yet. The game doesn’t throw every tool at you immediately to let you loose upon the world and for good reason; because there’s not a whole hell of a lot to do town by town. This is not a “pick a direction and go” kind of world, as early on you get a tutorial notation saying that some activities are straight up locked until you get certain spells. Remember I said it takes about five hours just to get open world flight, that kind of thing.

Side quests seem to be the usual “go to this location, get thing” but the writing and characterization of the quest givers are usually charming enough to see it through, and the objectives are rarely far enough away to be inconvenient and fast travel can be done from nearly anywhere.

I will say as one of my only points of contention is that some of the activities can feel a bit like busywork. I am particularly irritated at Merlin trials, which usually hides its solutions in the immediate area but are not always terribly obvious. If you go to far away from the trial it resets itself, which can also include hopping into your broom to get a vantage point of the area. Even when it’s simple they’re very tedious, and they’re the only way to increase your inventory space (which fills up quickly because loot is absolutely everywhere). I’m okay with the various bandit camps and animal lairs but it does reek of that Ubisoft-ness that has tired gaming in the last few years.

There’s probably plenty more I can say, but that’s almost all I have to say about the game and gameplay. It’s great, I’m quite enjoying it. Obviously there’s still plenty left I need to do but I’m having a great time.  I feel like this game brings to the table that HP fans have wanted. If you wanted the school experience, it’s here in in bite sized chunks, a class or two at a time for you to navigate the wonderfully designed school with all kinds of bits and bobs to discover. If you’re one of those HP fans who thought the combative implications of the world went under explored, then there’s plenty of it to be had here as well between shooting at wolves, spiders, bandits, rebels, and other creatures with fake made-up names.

There’s some buzz about performance. My computer is a few years old but with a decent amount of VRAM. I play on high settings and while I have noticed a couple frame drops during a couple of cutscenes, I have not experienced any crashing or other issues. I’ve also run into a big where my girl would remain targeting a downed enemy which made the dueling tournament a bit complicated to finish but saving and reloading cleared it up.

So yeah, there we have it. I like the game and don’t regret getting it.

[myrrhmaidwrites]

Sunstruck Writing Wrap-Up

I think I’m going to start posting writing wrap ups here for my own benefit. Writing about writing is supposed to make you better at it, or something.

This fic was not only my longest ever, but it also ended up spanning 12 google docs, 6 Word files, 8 pages in Notion, and 100+ DMs. If you think my writing process could use some improved organization, well, you’re right.

Originally, Sunstruck was about Trevor writing the book. He had finished it, and the book was in some ways a love letter to Jamie, and a lot of their conversations revolved around what was in the book. (Have you read The Next Next One? Yeah.)

Anyway, that didn’t end up happening. Somewhere along the way I switched the story to Jamie’s POV and moved away from the book idea. I just couldn’t get it to fit. I don’t think I’ll write a sequel to this, but if I did, it would be Trevor POV and it would be about the book.

Now I’m going to talk a little about the writing process for this fic.

16k words isn’t that many for a lot of people. For me, it’s the longest thing I’ve ever written, and I think that deserves some note. Woo! May there be longer fics to come. Also I genuinely have no idea how people write novels, haha. Practice, I suppose.

Shortly before I started this fic, I did some reading about various approaches to the editing process. The method I ended up using, which worked well for me, was to basically just get some words down for the first draft (“shitty first draft), and then rewrite the whole draft based on that. This worked well for me because I was able to get the pure words down pretty well via writing sprints and typing on my phone in bed before I went to sleep.

Then came the rewriting. I took one scene, slapped it in a column on Notion, and used it as a guide to write a new version of that scene. No copy+paste allowed, but I could rewrite the original words if I did want to keep them. I almost never kept them exactly. The second version of scenes were almost always better than the first.

During this period is when the story feels most like a confusing mess that I have to muddle through. I have scenes missing that I don’t know I need, I have to rearrange things and delete things and realize that something I wrote won’t work anymore because I changed something earlier. I’m constantly re-outlining, adding notes to scenes, writing new bits and deleting them, etc.

To give you an idea of some of the things I changed in this stage, in an earlier version of the fic, Jamie said something really heartfelt for Trevor’s video and they cut most of it out for the public video. Trevor only sees it after the Ducks staff send him the full video, and their reunion/get together scene happens at home the day after the ceremony.

At another point, I really wanted to have that long distance/breakup/dark night of the soul moment that would require a big gesture from Jamie (flying across the country for Trevor or similar). In the end, I couldn’t get it to work, so we have the condensed crisis that starts during the sex scene. I’m not mad about that change, but I do sometimes wonder if I could have made that scene hit harder if the separation/downturn had been worse.

Anyway, after getting through this horrible muddled mess, there’s a third re-writing, where I have the scenes mostly in order and I go through and rewrite everything from beginning to end for a third time. This time around, there’s a lot more that stays the same. What’s nice about the earlier stages is that when I write something I don’t like so much, I don’t have to worry about it at the moment because there’s an incredibly low chance it’ll make it to the final fic.

After the third rewriting is when I like to loop in my beta reader. I usually try to have a couple of specific questions for them as they read. I think technically this is called alpha reading (and beta reading is just for spelling/grammar), but if I’m honest, I need this kind of help more.

Then I go about incorporating changes from my beta reader, which usually involves a major overhaul of 1-2 scenes, almost always the finale and another scene in the second half of the fic.

After that, I go through and re-read the fic in order and look for places where I need to make major additions. This typically includes descriptions of emotions or settings and additions to dialogue where characters get to the point of what they’re trying to say far more quickly than is realistic.

Finally, in the last couple of days before posting, I look at sentence structure and word choice. I tend to use the same sentence structures over and over in my writing as well as certain words. In this phase, I try to mix it up as much more and make the sentences and words sound interesting.

In the “adding” and “sentence structure” phases of this fic, I added about 5k words. Yep, the fic was only about 11.5k words before this. That means the fic my beta reader read, while kind of close to the finished version, is also hugely different from the fic up on ao3. It’s kind of crazy to think about.

Finally, I do one last read for typos, and the fic goes up.

There’s one thing about this fic experience (and others I’ve had) that I haven’t really gotten to talk about yet, though.

This fic was part of a big bang, and as a part of that, I worked with a hard deadline, and I also had an artist relying on me to be finished so we could post at the same time. Last year, I participated in an exchange that had a similar type of deadline.

Both times, I’ve had horrible insomnia for ~3 weeks leading up to the deadline. We’re talking 3+ weeks of not sleeping, sleeping extremely poorly, or not sleeping without pills. (And I’m talking sedatives here, not melatonin. God, I wish melatonin did something useful for me.)

It didn’t matter that I could have pushed the deadline back. It didn’t matter that I could have just dropped out. It didn’t matter that I was actually quite on top of this fic and not particularly concerned about finishing on time. My brain was not interested in sleeping.

Luckily, I got through it. Most of this week after posting the fic I slept just fine. But it does make me think about whether doing something like this is useful for me, or sustainable in the long run. I really love the community aspect of writing fic. I doubt that without doing a bigbang that my fics would have art made for them. I doubt I would have produced such a long fic so quickly without a deadline.

Maybe these are just things that I need to accept about myself. If I don’t want to cause myself weeks of insomnia (and I don’t because it fucking sucks), maybe I need to just accept that. Really what I need to do is probably talk to my therapist about this, but it’s hard.

Does this happen to anyone else? Just me? Okay.

To end this on a less depressing note, one final observation I want to mention is that after I choose one fic to concentrate on, my ideas for other fics tend to slow down, and then once that idea is close to wrapping, they tend to speed up again. Now I’m stuck in the middle of 4-5 fic ideas and I want to write all of them. Of course I don’t have the time, and I’m sure I’ll end up concentrating on just one or two eventually. But for now I have like five different gdocs that I want to keep open at all times. It makes me wish I didn’t have a job so I could just write. (Plus my two anons that I owe fics to…oops!)

If you read this far, thank you. Sometimes it’s nice to hear whispers in the void when you know you should expect silence.

[bluefurcape]

Hi! I'm a big fan of your work and am in the process of trying to revive a very old hobby of writing my own fanfics. I would love to hear what your process of writing is like. How do you go from an idea to a story line? How do you deal when you reread what you've written and think, wow, that is some lengthy exposition/dialogue/etc there? I have reached out to a couple authors in the community with the same questions so no worries if you aren't able to get to it!

Really cool of tumblr not to let me know when I get a message <3

Thanks for reaching out! I hope that things are going well with your writing.

Idea >> Story

I'm going to be pretty honest, I don't get a lot of ideas these days. I have this superstitious theory that my brain shuts off the ability if I watch TV/Movies with plot in it, but I can't resist watching so it's been a dry spell of like most of this year. This week though I did manage to stop so I finally managed to snag something. It was near the tail end of sleeping so I laid there twitching like a dreaming dog while I thought about it in a half alive state.

Anyway! That's not really your question. If I do get an idea, it's usually the scraps of something that appeals to me. I play around with what comes to me first. For example, if I think of a piece of internalization, then I work around that. The first line of "Marked By Fate" where Kakashi hates a baby was what came into my head and from there I went to what it would be like if you feared your own soulmate (for ethical reasons). The recent idea I had was more of a setting that appealed to me (hint: a type of store) and not too much more except that with most of my fics it does have a 'goal' in mind of a romantic ending. But that is a type of framework, loose as it is, so I started thinking about the story circle which is a highly reduced version of the hero's journey. The steps don't make total sense to me all the time so I have to re-explain it to myself, but the basic circle goes:

you, need, go, search, find, give, return, changed.

"need" is often actually two things: an external goal and internal need (of like a "lesson" to be learned)

Not always, but many readers find satisfaction from a story where the character changes, so sometimes it is easier to work backwards. With a romance story, if the 'goal' is for them to accept love, generally then, how are they rejecting or missing love in the beginning? Etc etc

No need to put a lot of pressure on it in the beginning though because sometimes, you only can see the full picture after you come to the end (and you go on your own hero's journey).

2. Editing

This is the point where I go from big to small. I think more critically of the flow of the overall story (going back to the story circle...sometimes) and usually if the character arc is not clear enough, that is what I attack first. Then it's down to the actual sentences. I look at each to see what filler words can be taken out ('had' is a big culprit for me) and repetitive descriptions and verbal tags. The way I test exposition is if I'm using it like a time saver/skip to cut out boring shit or if I'm avoiding writing something that is important to show the character arc. Dialogue is a bit trickier, but I think a lot of people use filler stuff that we say naturally but doesn't work well in a narrative work where it needs to serve some sort of purpose (character or plot). Like I often will be tempted to write people going "good morning" a lot and just doing stupid small talk lol.

(secret 3rd question)

If I think about this all too much I get way too in my head about it. My suggestion is to digest it and then forget about it. Write what you want to write. Look back with an editor's eye later.

edit: as ppl can see in this mostly unedited post i have a terrible tendency to repeat the same words in a sentence (i was abt to write same sentence) so that shit has to get weeded out

[kinopio-writes]

FAQ

A/N: Not really frequently asked questions. It’s just some questions I think people would have about this blog. Also, I’m sorry if the answers felt wonky. I think it’s just me, though.

Why do you take so long to answer requests?

Busy.

Even when I’m not busy, I’m usually exhausted, so I don’t get to write much of anything and instead spend time on my main reblogging posts.

Actually, I try to write every day, but most of the time, I just stare at the screen for a couple of minutes, save, and call it a day, thinking I’ve been productive when I didn’t even type in anything.

Why do you suddenly post a lot after being inactive for weeks?

I want everyone to know that I usually get to see your requests in less than a day. When I get one, I write the layout first and draft it. Then I slowly work my way to finish writing it. This applies to every request I get after that.

When writing, I switch back and forth between them because I lose my focus easily. So, if I get one request done, that means the other requests aren’t so far behind as well. And I usually just finish them all because I don’t know when I can get all that motivation to write again.

That’s why, boom, a burst of posts.

And, uh, I don’t wait to post them one at a time because…I just don’t like doing that.

This method isn’t the best, probably. Unfortunately, I’m used to it now and I don’t think I can do writing in any other way.

Why don’t you write oneshots anymore?

It takes such a long time.

Most requests are anonymous, so they might assume I won’t respond to/didn’t write their request and never see them when I actually post it.

It’s also because it’s exhausting.

Every time I write oneshots, the final result is usually so vastly different from the first draft (not even just oneshots. This can apply to headcanons and scenarios sometimes). Consistency can fall apart because of the changes made, which in turn makes my motivation go all wonky when I try to fix it.

So, for the sake of this blog and mine, I’ll just be occasionally writing them. By that I mean I’ll decide when I should or not.

Why do you rather want requests with (insert personality type) readers?

(referring to my How to Request)

I’ll sometimes struggle with how a character would treat you since that depends on how you act around them.

So, uh, yeah, give me personality traits, please. Or situational asks. Or “how they would react to…” asks. This doesn’t mean you can’t request otherwise, though.

Do you answer requests in order?

I try so hard to, but I can’t. Some requests just give me more motivation than others and some just take less time.

Will you ever write smut?

Eh, no. The most I will do are suggestive stuff or inexplicit descriptions of it.

Will you ever write Canon x Canon?

Mm, nah.

I just don’t really care for ships. I might make exceptions in the future, but they’re likely not going to involve any romantic stuff. It would likely just be for exploring dynamics or something.

Will you write for Alastor romantically?

Under certain circumstances, yes. Otherwise, queerplatonic relationship at best.

Specifically, if I get to explore his sexuality through it, then yes. I’ve seen many people argue over his sexuality, saying that it isn’t confirmed that he’s also aromantic.

Regardless, it’s still clear that Alastor is not the type to be interested in romance or sex, nor has he shown any said attraction so far as I’m aware (Mimzy x Alastor is not canon anymore), so I’m depicting him as both aromantic and asexual.

Why are you so semi-formal in text?

(e.g., not using emojis, proper grammar and spelling (hopefully), using commas and periods, no use of abbreviations (except for btw and lol) or the tone indicator things like /pos or /lh)

Uh, no one really cares about this other than the people who request or comment.

I’m going to be honest: I don’t know.

This is just an announcement that, no, I am not annoyed or mad, I just like responding with (hopefully) grammatically correct sentences on here. But there are exceptions sometimes.

———

If you have any questions left unanswered, send them in so I can add them.

[villain-in-love]

🌍🌍 for The Arcana? pretty sure i saw a couple posts of yours talking about your s/i and in the moment was like "oh! sounds interesting! must remember to ask about her" but forgot to do it (@canarycurse)

Ask about Katerina was sudden but welcomed! I was debating whether I should go for “fun facts” or lore-heavy, important fact. But since I really don’t talk about Katerina that often, there’s a lot of pretty important information that needs to be told first, so I opted for a second option.

Fact number one: Katerina was a part of the palace court before she died of red plague. All thanks to Lucio himself.

Though everyone would agree that it was a jarring change – to go from a wanted criminal to the court magician overnight. Well, not exactly overnight – it would have been strange and suspicious if the court suddenly gained a new member the same day an infamous Night Witch was arrested. She had a few months to quietly wrap up all of her business, force anyone who might disagree with the decision into silence, and process the fact that her life took such a turn.

The official and the most widely accepted version of the story spread by Vesuvian government says that on the day of her arrest, Night Witch managed to escape from the cell where she was imprisoned and fled the city to avoid execution. And because another magician – Katerina Kronion – allegedly played a big role in catching her, she was offered a place in the palace.

It’s not like many people knew that these two are the same person –that’s the benefits of never stepping out of the shadows.

All I can say is that’s what happens when you get dragged to the questioning and unexpectedly find your platonic soulmate in an eccentric count that runs the city while trying to talk you way out of trouble.

But in Lucio’s head the plan was sound – he finally gets himself a court magician and a worthy companion who seems to appreciate and understand his vibe; keeping Katerina nearby and busy should prevent her from going back to terrorizing the city; and she seems to be very smart, so surely, she must be useful. Lucio thinks that the plan is genius, Consul Valerius thinks that the plan is atrocious, not to mention idiotic as hell. They both turned out to be right in some way.

In any case, the court is already corrupt and mostly consists of literal fucking demons, who have no business being here in the first place and most of the time are awful at doing their jobs. What’s one more morally dubious fucker on the team?

Fact number two: Katerina sucks at fighting.

Not even once in her life did she engage in an honest direct combat, the moment Katerina realizes that her ass is in trouble – she’s running away through the nearest shadow as fast as possible. Maybe even casting a memory-erasing spell on her opponent, just in case*.

She’s not particularly athletic, nor she has any interest in combat-oriented magic, so there’s really not much she can do, even if she wants to. Though she does readily kick people when they are already down and will never hesitate to stab someone in the back (literally and figuratively).

Still, Katerina is not the type of person you would want to mess with. She doesn’t need to be a good fighter to be able to inflict the nastiest mind-shattering curses on her enemies that are far worse than any physical pain could ever be.

* Another fun fact that nobody asked for, but I just personally wanted to include: the memory-erasing spell is one of the strongest spells in Katerina’s repertoire that she spent ridiculous amounts of time and effort on perfecting. The reason? Purely so that she could erase all her awkward cringefail moments from the public memory.

[kierancaz]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫/𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬/𝐨) 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏: 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

A/N: sooo I wrote like a third of this and then accidentally posted it and had to delate it I literally want to cry 🥲 ANYWAYS this is basically gender flipped Hiccup/Astrid from the first movie. I’m probably changing now dragons work in the lotr verse but idc.

Warnings: asshole Legolas (at the beginning), not proof read, possible spelling/grammar mistakes, a few direct quotes from the first httyd movie because I couldn’t help myself 💀

Synopsis: you’ve been acting strange Legolas takes matters of investigation into his own hands.

*this is going to have a part 2 of head canons bc I cannot fit everything I want into this one shot lmao*

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You were… widely regarded as strange to the other elves. Daughter to the hand of the king you have a fairly high status within Greenwood, but not many friends.

Legolas had known you since you where both kids but he never payed much attention to you. You were shy and quite and liked to hide. Growing up you barely said two words to him and as you both got older he fell in with everyone who didn’t like you.

He saw you every once in a while, usually drawing or working in the blacksmiths, more recently in the library. You had joined the guard not to long ago, Legolas assumed your father had made you because you weren’t to good at it.

You fumbled your way through every day of training and more then once someone had to rescue you while out on patrol. Legolas wished he had the power to kick you off the guard, it would make everyone’s lives so much easier, but Tauriel refused.

However, in the last month you had been acting more strange then usual, and Legolas seemed to be the only one to notice. It irked him.

You had been sneaking off any chance you got, after patrols and trainings you would just disappear and more then once he saw you from his balcony sneaking off into the woods at night. You hardly spent any time in your usual places like the library or the blacksmiths or even sitting under your favorite tree in the garden.

Tauriel wouldn’t listen to him when he brought up your mysterious disappearances and he didn’t want to you to his father just yet, so he took matters into his own hands. For the next couple of days Legolas observed you more closely. He made excuses to go into the blacksmiths and try and get a glimpse at what you where working on, he followed you into the library and picked up what books you’d leave behind, and every night he waited on his balcony to watch where you would walk into the woods. Admittedly it was a little weird but he had to know what you where doing. Finally, he decided it was time to follow you into the woods.

He waited in the woods for you to show up after your patrol, sitting patiently on a rock, sharpening his blades to pass the time. He stopped when he heard the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs not to far ahead of him. Quickly he jumped behind the rock to not be seen.

As he predicted, when he looked out from behind the rock he saw you walking through the woods dressed in something strange. It seemed to be made of leather?

After you where a good distance ahead of him he crept out from behind the rock and silently followed you from a distance, making sure to keep out of sight. You were mumbling to yourself as you flipped through a little leather bound book in your hands, chewing on the end of your pencil.

Maybe you were just a harmless weirdo, Legolas began to think. Maybe he was being to hard on you. He didn’t understand why what you where doing mattered to him so much, why he was so interested. If he was going to be honest with himself you didn’t seem like a threat. He sighed and as he was thinking about this, he stepped on a twig and it cracked under his weight.

You stopped up ahead and spun around. Quickly Legolas ducked behind a tree. You gave a questioning look around before slowly turning back and hastening your pace.

Legolas breathed again after you continued moving forward, he stayed there until you were almost out of sight before he followed again. He followed you for a long while, watching carefully were he stepped.

Eventually, you disappeared again. This time though you had climbed your way down into a large clearing. There was a couple trees with a large pond in the center of the grove but he couldn’t see much from up where he was. He climbed down through the rocks and into the grove but there was no sign of you. He took a moment to spin and look around, it was a beautiful place, he could see why you would want to sneak off here.

“Legolas.” He heard the shock in your voice as you dropped something to the ground, but when he turned around you had kicked it behind the bolder you were standing next to.

He turned around, his face stony. “Wha-what are you doing here?” You laughed nervously, looking around and shuffling on your feat.

“Actually, I came to ask you the same question.” He said coming closer, flipping his blade in his hand and looking down his nose at you.

“Oh! Well you know, ah, um,” you stuttered.

“And what is this you’re wearing?” Legolas asked accusatorially and tried to peer around the bolder you rushed up to him and put both your hands on his chest, trying to guide him away.

“I’ve been, uh, making… outfits!” You laughed. “That’s it! You caught me! Drag me back and—”

Legolas swiftly moved his blade so it pointed at your throat. Immediately you moved both your hands off him. “Don’t lie to me. What are you hiding?”

There was a low rumbling coming from behind him. Legolas looked over a shoulder and climbing out from behind a stack of boulders, teeth bared and reptilian eyes fixed on them, was a dragon.

“Get down!” Legolas shouted and shoved you both to the ground as the dragon pounced. Legolas got back up immediately, prepared to swing his sword at the beast.

“Stop! Stop!” You cried as you scrambled to your feet and placed yourself between Legolas and the large black dragon.

You where facing him with both your hands on the dragons face, holding it back from attacking again. It’s green eyes fixed on Legolas as it continued to growl.

“You scared her!” You said, looking more angry then Legolas had ever seen.

“I scared her?!” Legolas yelled back, using his sword to point at himself and then the dragon. He noticed now that the dragon was wearing a leather saddle.

There was a long stretch of silence where all you did was look at each other. It was like Legolas thoughts had completely stopped working. This wasn’t even on the list of things he had expected to find out here with you.

He turned on his heel and began to walk away.

“Wait! Wait-wait-wait-wait.” You said skidding over to him. You grabbed him by the arm to stop your feet from sliding out form under you, you where crouched down ever so slightly to catch his eye, all evidence of angry gone from your face and replaced by intense worry. “You can’t tell anyone, they’ll have her killed! I promise she’s not dangerous.”

Legolas furrowed his brows and looked over his shoulder. The black dragon was still glaring at him. It snorted at him rather aggressively.

“Just…” slowly your hand moved down his arm until it gently clasped his hand. “Just let me show you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and something about it made Legolas’ heart speed up.

Gently, slowly, you led him back over to the dragon. It might have been the wrong time, but it dawned on him that he quite liked the feeling of your hand in his.

You lifted his hand to the dragons nose and it made a low growl. “Shrenka,” you said and the dragon turned it big eyes to you. Immediately he saw how her slit pupils turned round. “He’s a friend.”

Shrenka made a disgruntled, annoyed, noise but she allowed Legolas to place his hand on her. Legolas peeled his eyes from Shrenka to find that you where already looking at him, a slight smile placed on your lips.

“She’s a bit moody,” you said as you removed your hand from over top of his. “But that’s all.”

Slowly Legolas began to stroke Shrenka’s head and scratched under her chin and she made a sound akin to a cats purr. A smile began to form on his face, and in turn, one formed on yours.

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[makipedia]

1,000 Miles Away - Maki Zenin x Fem! Reader

a/n: hehe FINALLY decided to make a real post instead of those random ass thoughts that come up in my head💀

also this is based off the song i cant handle change by roar and drowning by vague003 (i think thats how u spell it lol)

because my best friend left me a few weeks ago and i've been rlly struggling a lot bcs of it and yeah🥲🥲🥲

anyways😍😍😍

a maki post bcs im literally in love with her<333

warning: some cursing idk depends on how this goes :/, maki may or may not be ooc here

synopsis: you and Maki were always best friends, since the very beginning. you two've been through thicc and thin together for 17 long years. what happens when all of that goes away so suddenly?

.

It was horrible. The text just sent to you left you in pieces. Billions of little pieces that nobody was able to pick up.

Not even Maki.

For the longest time, you and her have been the best of friends. Inseparable, even. It'd been on one sunny day in your Pre-K class when you'd been sitting on the swings by yourself when a girl with beautiful green hair and bangs came up to you with a simple,

"Hello" A girl said; holding her hands nervously. You looked up from the ground and up at her.

"Hi" You responded quietly. A couple more seconds of silence goes by, and neither of you say a word.

"...I'm Maki" The girl introduced herself. You blinked back in response.

"I'm Y/n. It's very nice to meet you, Maki" You finally said, cheerfully. Maki smiled back and got on the swing next to you.

"Do you wanna be friends?" You asked, turning your head next to her. A wide smile grew on her face and she nodded.

And that was how it started.

From the first meeting, to the last goodbye, and everything in between those 17 years all went by in the blink of an eye. And it hurt you.

It hurt you so bad to see her hanging out with someone else, looking at them the same way she'd been looking at you just some days ago. Full of joy and happiness.

Seeing her be happy with another person made your heart ache and shatter into a million little pieces. You hated yourself.

You hated yourself.

You hated yourself.

You hated yourself.

You'd been hating yourself for so long that you were afraid you'd never go back to being your old, cheery self. It killed you to see Maki laughing her ass off, hanging out together outside of school, doing all the other things you two did.

With someone else.

You hated yourself for making her leave you. You hated yourself for her not loving you anymore. You hated yourself for those mistakes you made in the past and you swore that if you could take all of that back, you could.

You hated yourself for being the way you are: Just an asshole who's been given the unfortunate ability to make everyone they love hate them.

You wanted to apologize to her in person, to make her see what the fuck she did to you. To see how fucked up you've gotten. To watch the look on her face when you break down crying right in front of her own eyes just so she could see the pain she fucking put you through.

You wanted to see her again. Not from afar, but up close. Shame washed over you when you would sometimes scroll by her contact, and notice that it's been 1..2...6 weeks since you've last spoken.

That time frame doesn't seem like a lot, but the lonely feeling that haunted you made it feel like 1,000 years; still being 1,000 miles away from Maki.

You wanted to take it back. You wanted to take back all your mistakes, but life has horribly shown you that there's no way of doing that.

You wanted it back. You wanted your old life back: You and Maki annoying each other, texting and facetiming till 3 am, sending each other stupid pictures y'all found on Pinterest, all of it.

You longed for it back. And no matter how much you pleaded to the Gods above you, they always turned a deaf ear to your cries.

Those 6 weeks turned into 6 months without Maki. Even though she never moved away, still went to the same school, you still saw her in the hallways,

She still felt 1,000 miles away.

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a/n: bruh i think i went a little too far since i basically made this a vent post now🥲🥲🥲

yeah i added the 'still see her around' part cuz i wanted to at least let yall get a glance at her beautiful face<33 (irl i didnt get to see my ex best friend after we graduated middle school, and we go to a diff highschool now so the fact i'll never be able to see her again kills me inside cuz i'll never know how shes doing. though i did put the 'see her around' part cuz i drew experience from a recent ex gf where she had my friend text me saying 'hey ___'s breaking up with u bcs she thinks ur an annoying bitch and u make her uncomfortable' and then that ex never talked to me again :/ im sorry I talked too much lmaoo)

anyways i hoped u guys enjoyed !! if not thats fine too lmaoooo

have a good day/night and stay safe!!

wc: 656

[fainee]

Hi can I have one where the reader is a madrigal and when they get their gift the family (including Bruno this is post movie) and they think they don’t have a gift but the door is still there and when they swap with their tia pepa’s gift they realized that she can swap gifts to themselves and others bonus points if they think they completely stole it from her

Aaaa, that's an awesome idea! I hope I don't get it wrong. Bad English warning, please correct me if I'm wrong with my spelling.

- So basically, you're Y/N Madrigal and I see you as Julieta and Augustin's daughter. - When Casita starts cracking, you are a couple months younger than Antonio, so you, Mirabel and Antonio have been like best friends since you were born. - When Antonio got his gift, the two of you spent so much time together in his room that nobody saw you around 24/7. - The first time you met your Tio Bruno, you were so scared of him that you hid behind Antonio. "D-did I do anything wrong?"   "No, she's scared because Camilo told her that you're 7 feet tall and evil."

"Oh." - But when time passed, you started to literally adore him, especially his "acting." - When everything returns to normal, you have your own ceremony, but as you touch your door... Nothing happens. But not exactly like with Mirabel. The door stayed, but there was no picture of you with your gift. Nobody understands what just happened. As you all entered, it was a normal, large room with paintings of all the Madrigals on the walls. "Maybe you will write our familia history one day, mi vida, "said Alma to cheer you up. Days passed, but nothing happened, and you still didn't do much. So everyone got back to their lives and thought that you're like Mirabel; you just don't have a gift. But after a couple of years, the situation starts to change... - You've been playing with Antonio, and as you were running, you stumbled and landed on Tia Pepa. "¡Pilas! What are you doing Y/N?!" "Tia, I'm so sorry... Wait you're not angry?" "Of course, I'm! I'm literally thunde-" she reaches for her hand to show them her cloud, but... there wasn't even one. "Huh?" She quickly looked at her door, but her name and the picture disappeared. You were truly petrified. Is all of this starting to happen again? Magic is fading? Suddenly, you felt cold snow on your cheeks.

Plus your door started to change and you see yourself with Pepa powers. "How do you do that? You... ladrón! You stole my gift!" "I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry!" -The entire familia gathers to talk. Everyone was shocked. "So you can take our gifts?" "I think so..." Pepa grabbed your hand and said that you must give her powers back as it was your fault. Bruno started to defend you and grabbed your arm, that you will feel better. Instantly, something weird happened. Pepa's eyes started to glow green, and above Bruno's head appeared grey clouds. So you all know what happened after that. Chaos - So you can swap your family's gifts, that's your job. It's not as useless as you first thought. Family members are often just tired of their gifts.

Dolores loves coming to your room and finally lying in bed in quiet. Luisa can rest and finally sleep without constant energy in her veins.

Camilo loves it when he's trying to change and still see his face. He can see real Camilo Madrigal.

Isabella can feel normal and, for the first time, average like town people. That's mean a lot to her.

Antonio can finally hear how birds sing and lions roar, without knowing their problems.

Julieta's wound can be healed by her daughter.

Pepa can cool down and finally control her emotions.

Bruno doesn't have to look at someone else's future and feel bad about it.

And Mirabel.

Mirabel can feel what it is like to have a gift. She likes to visit you when someone else is resting, taking their powers for a day. And everybody is finally happy.