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buddyfromearth · 3 years

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Object of Affection

For @gothamsworst because your entire penguin tag has put into me a great fire to write a sheepish significant other for him. Mind you, I haven’t written fanfiction since high school so forgive me if I get something wrong (I’m still getting into DC and my parents think it’s embarrassing because I had a lobo phase out of high school.)

Notes: confessions of love; sfw (some slight implications at the end but it cuts off because that’s not going on this blog here); aw, gee, he brought a bouquet of flowers; hey who ordered flirting because here’s some; several headcanons in one go let’s go people; I can write pretty words I just mostly refuse to in favor of making it all comics instead; idea of flirting is just walking up with a bouquet and going “marry me”; I don’t know what I’m doing I’ve never written this guy before.

EDIT: fixed some things.

Stuck between yearning for love and the fear of rejection was a difficult place to be. It was at least easier to know rejection than it was to have yearning for love going totally unanswered. Oh, what pain it was.

Oswald Cobblepot, that troublesome Penguin known about Gotham as one hell of a man to cross, was madly in love. Yes, an unfortunate feeling to have. But he couldn’t help it. Not this time, at least.

It was someone he’d seen around the lounge, lurking nearby where he’d watch the penguins. When he saw them around and was able to not make it awkward, he couldn’t help but stare at those eyes all green and deep like some dark thicket. And those venomous eyes did plenty of staring back: he could feel their gaze fixated on him whenever he was working at the lounge.

Really, though, what did he know about this crush that had taken his entire heart by a single blow? Well, he knew enough. His eyes about Gotham told him that they weren’t much of anything besides a total hermit: mostly stayed home at a ground-floor apartment in a low-rent yet slightly decent part of town (as decent as the city could be, anyway), and had everything that was needed for living delivered to their door. No car: only ever ventured out on a trike with a headlight on the front and a trunk on the back. He wasn’t even sure what they did for a living.

At the very least Oswald knew he could find them lurking around the lounge. So, that’s exactly where he went.

Of course, such an event was not something to go into completely unprepared. He pulled out a nice suit, as usual, with all the fine accoutrements he was well-known for. An umbrella in one hand and a large bouquet of bloody red roses in the other. Even went out of the way to pick out cologne, albeit he preferred not to. He wanted to make the best impression he could.

It was just that odd hour before the post-work rush. Oswald hoped he’d not come in on a wrong night. Trying not to draw too much attention, he made a long sort of awkward path over to where they usually were.

There they were, right at that surprisingly bare table he got used to passing by. There was a pencil case pushed to one side, and it sat next to a tall glass of what he thought might be soda (of course, he wasn’t about to just try it: that would be a bit too much). They were hunched over something in front of them, and their hands moved quickly with a pencil and a brush.

“Excuse me, my dear,” started Oswald, with a soft tone so as to not scare this beloved mystery away, “but is this table taking guests?”

They jumped. Oswald feared he’d gone too fast. Oh, wonderful, now he’d scared them off!

They looked up and met his eyes. What was once a terrified look behind thick glasses quickly melted into something tender and rather curious. “Oh.” Their voice had an astoundingly flat affect, hinting at an origin out in midland farming country with the slight tint to it. They cleared their throat, and moved their bag to the other side. “S-sure thing, sir, sure. Wasn’t expecting anyone to be over here tonight. Normally people only ever come over to ask for free work from me.” Their voice was soft and quiet as they spoke: an absolutely adorable sound that hit just right in his ears. He could listen to it talk forever.

“Excellent.” Oswald sat down directly next to them, putting the umbrella to rest on the seat beside him.

Their face quickly changed colors. It went from a sickly pale in the lowlight to being absolutely taken over with blush. “R-right, s-sure. Please, forgive me for asking, but haven’t I seen you around here before?”

“Of course you would have seen me here before,” said Oswald, rolling his eyes slightly. “I own this lounge, after all.”

“Oh, I…” They stopped for a moment, and their mouth was slightly agape as they appeared to slowly mentally register the weight of the situation. Then their eyes shot wide open and they gave up a nervous smile with chattering teeth. “M-Mr. Cobblepot, sir. I-I-I didn’t think I was something you’d… well, y’know, actually come over to see?”

“Quite the contrary,” said Oswald, moving in closer and putting an arm around their shoulder. “You’ve captured my attention with how much you care about my darlings. I see you in here and I can’t help but wonder if you’re some kindred soul.” He gestured just slightly over at the centerpiece of the lounge, the namesake iceberg with a whole group of penguins he often spent hours watching on his days off.

They looked over to where he gestured, and then they nodded quickly. The nervousness quickly got itself out of that smile, and their entire posture melted into one of repose. “Your penguins, right. Right, the penguins! Of course! They’re so cute: little communal flipper birds that just waddle around and honk and preen all day.” They sighed and smiled, leaning forward and putting their head to rest in their hand. “What I wouldn’t give for a life so carefree.”

Oswald immediately had a few ideas come to mind. Oh, he could take care of that: he could just bring them into his life and get them out of that awful apartment, pamper them with anything and everything they could ever want. Ask them to move in with you. Ask them for a date. Ask them to share a drink. No, no, no, that’s all too fast! Play it slowly: perhaps they’ll melt into your arms if you go ahead just right.

“How often are you around here, hm?” Oswald looked over from behind his monocle at this mystery figure that had caught his attention and proceeded to hold it in a vice-like grip, taking a moment to look at what he was dealing with. Their figure was mostly obscured by big, bulky articles of clothing, but what could be made out was all thick and rolled together like some haphazard cake stacked up far too high for its own good. It was very easy to look at. “You seem to know enough about my precious little birds.” “Perhaps a bit too much” was a phrase he wanted to add, but he wasn’t about to murder this feeling.

“I don’t really drink alcohol. I only really come here to draw the iceberg and all the penguins,” said the mystery crush. “They’re so fun to smush together with their little shapes. Their little flippers are so cute. And their little feet are surprisingly complex once you get past all the flub and feathers.”

Oh, one of those artist types. Wait, artist type. Artist. Oh, this could be good: this could actually be really good for several different reasons! Not just the romantic pursuit reason, either: perhaps their passion for the arts would include, somewhere in there, a passion for him.

“I see.” Oswald reached for the pad of paper they were so vigilantly guarding and said, “I can’t help but have a look at someone’s work regarding my darlings.”

A sickly pale hand with chewed-down nails shot over and clamped in on Oswald’s wrist. “Just a second there, Mr. Cobblepot. You have to promise me something first.”

“Anything, my sweet, anything.”

“Don’t tell anyone what you see in this book. It’s a lot of… well, it’s… bad.”

“Oh, I will most certainly be the judge of that.” Oswald picked up the book, and then handed them the bouquet in return. “Here, something for you to hold in the meantime.”

Noting their shocked expression as they carefully took the bouquet in their arms, Oswald began to slowly browse through the contents of the book.

What they had said was indeed true: there were a lot of penguins in there. They were doing all sorts of things: preening their coats, honking, spread out on their stomachs staring at each other, ambling across the ice. They were all partway realistic, but there was some sort of fantastical flair to them. It was cute: just like them.

While flipping through the pages, though, he couldn’t help but notice other pieces. Things like the name of the lounge written out in poster type pieces with his penguins and their little iceberg on it. There was, undeniably, a unique work of a penguin in a suit like his. Curious, he turned the page.

And what he saw there surprised him greatly.

It was not only drawings of patrons with little notes about time scrawled around them that occupied the pages, but there were drawings of him as well. Little notes here and there about the things he’d wear, the way he’d talk, and the way he moved. Around one particular piece underlaid with purple markings was a portrait of him smiling: the note around this piece said “Handsome guy but who?” It was surrounded by little scribbled hearts.

Oswald, in his stroke of peacock vanity that got to him every now and again, turned his head slightly as he was gently urged by these things. “I see that you draw more than birds.”

The mystery crush looked over. They caught a look of what pages he’d come to and they grimaced before sighing and hiding their face in their hands. “Sorry about that. I-I draw people a lot, just to stay aware of how to do it.”

“It seems you’ve become quite taken with me in these intimate studies,” said Oswald, casting a rather tempered gaze and a matching grin over at the object of his affections as he handed back the book. “I must admit, I came here tonight thinking you wouldn’t reciprocate the feelings that brought me to you in the first place.”

“Oh, wow, feelings?” The mystery crush smiled and chuckled ever so softly, rubbing their hand along the back of their neck as they took the book and put it back on the table. “Goodness gracious, Mr. Cobblepot, I didn’t expect a gentlemanly type like yourself to be the romantic type.”

“Oh, but isn’t a gentleman always the romantic type?” Oswald, emboldened by such a soft response, couldn’t help but to pull them in closer. When they began to blush again, he grinned and pressed a gloved finger to their nose. “I can’t exactly help it. And please, just call me Oswald.” He then picked up one of their hands and pressed a single, fervent kiss to it.

“Ah, uh, I guess so,” said the mystery crush, “mister… oh, right, Oswald. Right, first name basis now.” Their face was getting hotter by the minute, and they began to stammer over all their words as they put the bouquet on the table. “I, uh… would, would you be offended if I asked you something kinda personal?”

Oswald could already picture several personal questions and perfect little answers to go along with them. He nodded and held their hands in his. “Oh, but of course, my dear: anything you ask for, you’ll get it from me.”

“Oh.” The mystery crush nodded, their glasses falling down their face in the meantime. When Oswald reached up and pushed them back to their previous position, they cleared their throat and quickly stammered out, “If you feel so strongly about me, would you mind if I moved in? I, uh… they hiked the rent on my place again and I have to find a new one before the end of the month. Don’t make enough.”

“Would I mind? Of course not, dearest bird, of course not. I have far too many places that need a colorful touch like yours. You can come with me tonight, if it pleases you, my dear.”

“You don’t have to be so heavy-handed with all the compliments.”

“Oh, but I believe you deserve every last one of them.”

“You’re far too kind.” The mystery crush sighed. “I hate to tell you this now, after all those compliments and affectionate talk, but I’m kind of a handful, I’m… look, I’m trans and if you’re not into a guy like me, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m- I’m sorry. We can just go away from this table and never speak about this again. It… it’ll be fine if we do that.”

“Oh, now you just listen to me.” Oswald put his hands to the mystery crush’s face and leaned it over so they were looking at him. “I don’t rightly care about whether you’re trans or not, and I’ll fund that for you so you can be happy. You’re just far too pretty of a kindred spirit to be left so alone in such a big city.”

“I…” The mystery crush looked baffled. They froze for a moment or two, and Oswald wondered if he had said too much. After a long silence, they sighed and smiled so big and soft that it couldn’t help but bring him to smile as well. “Wow. Thanks.”

“Oh, you’re ever so welcome, my dear.” Oswald pressed his face up to theirs and quickly asked, “May I?”

“May you… oh, right. Right! Yes, you may, Oswald. You most certainly may!”

With that, Oswald couldn’t help but press a kiss to their lips. Their lips were slightly chapped, and he couldn’t help but nuzzle his face just slightly against theirs in some affectionate attempt to bring intimacy to such a moment. This move, while unexpected at first, was quickly reciprocated as their hands took hold of his shoulders.

Oswald pulled away with a troublesome little grin spread across his lips, and the object of all those affections smiled like this sort of intimacy was brand new to them. “I can’t help but wonder what your name is.”

“Look, my name is…” They stopped for a moment, but then they smiled and just said, “Call me Lou for now. I can’t think of a name that belongs to me.”

“Then let’s find that out together.” Oswald took his umbrella up and moved to stand, offering his hand to Lou. “Come, I can have a crew bring your things to our home tomorrow. Tonight, we shall simply be enamored little lovebirds.”

Lou laughed. Their laugh sounded like the call of a bird, with its dragged-out syllables and its pitch. They snorted just slightly as they packed up their things. “You’re very honest, Oswald. I like that. I like that a lot.”

“What’s a little honesty between significant others?” Oswald smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Lou put their bag back on their shoulders and put their hand in Oswald’s as they stood up. They weren’t much taller than him, and those assumptions he had made about their figure were correct. “It’s a lot. Let’s go.”

Oswald only put his arm around them as the two gently went hand-in-hand to where his driver waited.

“What are the plans for this evening, Oswald?”

“Oh, I do believe I have a few ideas beginning to come to be. Just you be patient, my sweet, I’ll tell you when we’re alone.”

#writing #gothamsworst #not going into the tags #too embarrassing and self-inserty for the tags #gave the guy a different name too #just so it's not too self-inserty #I don't like getting rude comments about self-inserting #my writing

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shoujoinvestigation · 4 years

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Our 2020 Drama Recs

What a year 2020 has been - a time of tumultuous change, anxiety and reflection. During this time, dramas have certainly become a safe space for comfort and entertainment. Fortunately, we’ve also seen more and more quality dramas released in 2020!

As we head into 2021, here are our top 2020 dramas picks:

1. Winter Begonia 鬓边不是海棠红 recommended by Admin JY

The story of two seemingly polar opposite characters in 1930s China - a feisty traditionally-trained Beijing opera star and a wealthy Western-educated businessman in a setting where Western influence meets Chinese traditions. Yet when they finally cross paths, their parallels in fact draw them closer to each other. The main characters shine and sparkle both as independent characters with their own depth, flaws and quirks and with their ever-so-natural chemistry interacting with each other, in what could be the most healthy and balanced relationship dynamic I have ever seen between leads.

Winter Begonia presents brilliantly written three-dimensional, human yet relatable characters growing with each other through a time in history of change and uncertainty, in addition to great acting, beautiful costume design, production value and showcase of Beijing opera. If you are looking for a show with drama, history/culture, comedy, family, action (and tragedy), look no further than Winter Begonia for an entertaining yet reflective story of growth filled with all the *feels*.

2. A Murderous Affair in Horizon Tower 摩天大楼 recommended by Admin JL

What’s your idea of a feminist drama? An ensemble of badass, confident female cast kicking ass and bonding with each other? For Horizon Tower, it is to be concealed in a mystery. Two detectives take us through the life of an attractive cafe owner after her death, retracing it through the eyes of people new to her and old ones who had known her well. They all have various things to say about her - each have a different piece of the full picture. What part of the truth do we trust? How do we, or can we judge her? While women are often expected to be the “perfect victim”, Horizon Tower says, the simple truth is, a victim is a victim, and a crime is a crime, regardless the conduct of the victim.

Horizon Tower is a sophisticated, brilliantly written and directed story. It’s fast-paced, compelling as it plays with multiple facets of the truth. There is no simple dichotomy - of black vs white, of women vs men. Instead, it fundamentally embraces the complexity of human nature - which is what makes it feminist. For me, this drama will stay in my heart as one of the most powerful and brilliant feminist stories to exist. In a time of feminist movements, it feels extra important and meaningful for China to have produced such a drama this year. Thank you for being the voice we all needed, Horizon Tower!

Watch the official episodes, subbed, on Youtube.

3. Hyena recommended by Admin JY

Not quite simply a law drama, nor a “badass” law drama turned into a sweet romance drama - Hyena is great for its culmination of confident writing featuring strong and unique characters that break stereotypes, balanced with a refreshing focus on morally ambiguous law cases.

Just as much as the focus was placed on the well-paced and exciting stakes in the legal cases featured, the drama always gave space for the characters’ legit explosive chemistry to shine through and be developed further. While KDramas have been attempting to write “badass” female leads, Jang Geum Ja always stayed true to her anti-hero and morally grey character, with her gaudy, loud masculine style, unscrupulousness and shameless ambition to the end - a truly strong and admirable female lead who may not be fully likable. Yoon Hee Jae as the male lead also deserves praise as a more sensitive and softer portrayal of a privileged and powerful male lead, without ever overshadowing others or overstepping his boundaries.

Even as someone who struggles to watch purely-law/detective dramas, there was much to appreciate and enjoy from this drama, with its quality acting, writing and even memorable OST that can only be fully appreciated by watching.

4. The Bad Kids 隐秘的角落 recommended by Admin JL

This is China’s year of high quality, sophisticated suspense dramas! Alongside Horizon Tower, The Bad Kids is certainly the one which had first carved out that status. Before it was named one of the Best International TV Series of 2020 by Variety, it had already achieved a phenomenal status in China with plenty of good fun memes and incisive meta created.

The success of The Bad Kids, in my opinion, represents creativity and the heart for storytelling triumphing over rigid, spartan censorship. It’s a testament that witty and thoughtful writing is what you need to tell a good story - and even censorship can’t get in the way of this (sometimes). It told a compelling and introspective story threading into moral fallibility while opening up questions to audience about what we perceive and know. This is a rare accomplishment when so many other recent cdrama stories are increasingly sanitised. The auteur-level of directing was vital in shaping the experience as well, down to the quirky selection of music.

So, do you believe in fairytales or reality? :)

5. Brutally Young 十八年後的終極告白 recommended by Admin JY

How far would you go to hide the secrets from your past to protect your present? - that was the simple but solid foundation that this HK Drama delivered.

A group of high school friends are forced to reunite after 18 years to unravel the mystery of a recently discovered corpse, related to their shared pasts. Through this premise, mystery and suspense unfolds as the characters’ complex motivations and hidden pasts are revealed.

Despite the wide ranging cast, many characters are given good depth and personal arcs for development, and even decent romance feels. The pace of the story is also kept tight and remains consistent and realistic throughout. Definitely an unexpected dark horse from TVB’s 2020 lineup, worth checking out!

6. Candle in the Tomb: The Lost Caverns 鬼吹灯之龙岭迷窟 recommended by Admin JL

Okay, after two heavy suspense dramas from me, is there anything more lighthearted to watch? I’m usually not an action/adventure fan, but I’ve been a fan of the remakes of Candle in the Tomb directed by Fei Zhenxiang along with his team, following after the prequel adaptation last year, The Wrath of Time.

This time, we have Pan Yueming as Hu Bayi, forming the Iron Triangle with Pangzi and Shirley, embarking on a tomb-raiding treasure-hunting adventure. Director Fei makes action digestible and fun to watch, on top of the witty script, great character-writing and performance - true to canon (as far as possible). As far as old fans of the franchise and new ones of the drama know, this is the best remake so far. I’m looking forward to the next instalment, The Worm Valley, likely out early 2021!

Watch the official episodes, subbed, on Youtube.

Let us know what your picks for 2020 are!

Written and gifs by Admin JY and Admin JL, unless stated otherwise.

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akechi-gf · 4 years

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so I read ur fic Devil Town (and man am I in love) and I was wondering whether ur working on anything else rn?? or plan to?? cause u write beautifully and there is a criminally low number of decent akechi-central fics out there. also if u have any fic recs that would be amazing?? particularly (platonic is welcome) saiki x akechi?? :)) sorry if I sound kinda pushy lmaoo

thanks lol

ps. ur art's so damn cute and pretty I can't even tell u how great it is- like wow okay just shove all that talent right in my face go ahead-

AAAAAA thank you so much for liking devil town! I do have a lot of Akechi-centric fics in my drafts right now, so you have those to look forward to (Though it may be a while before I actually end up posting them, hehe)

As for fic recs, I have a lot that I enjoy !! Here’s a quick list of my favorites (none of these are nsfw, i don’t read those so sorry if you were looking for any in particular :((( )

I’ll Protect You from Now On by Crazy_Pairing_Person

This one’s at the top of the tag in terms of kudos, and it’s well deserved! It’s well written, it’s got your tiniest bit of bullying, and most of all, a very protective Saiki. Fluffy, quick read!

simple and clean by GalaxyOfMe

Okay, personal favorite. The author wrote them really close to canon, and it’s in general a really sweet confession-type piece, and the ending is just adorable!

Watermelon Sugar by mystery_bitch

This one in particular had me smiling for hours after it- the concept is adorable, and Aiura is a great wingman! It’s a bit longer than the others, but it’s still definitely worth a quick read- fluffy, and there’s a bit of kissing if you’re into that.

A Brain Made of Ramen and Non-Malicious Idiocy by Crazy_Pairing_Person

This one’s adorable! Of course, Nendo is his usual self-, and the interactions between characters is just *chef’s kiss*

One Hundred and Nineteen by heartlesscinderella

Aha... hate to self- promote but this is my own fic, just your run of the mill unrequited love story.

Bright Love, Dark Heart by Crazy_Pairing_Person

Will be honest, this fic was the first one that came to mind when I saw this ask- a nice amount of fluff, angst, comfort, and a bit of time-travel as well. It’s a good fic!

A Silent Sunflower by InfiniteOreos

Okay, I may be biased because I love hanahaki fics, but this is a 10 out of 10 and I never get tired of re-reading! The description is pretty straight to the point, as well as the tags- so when you read it, keep them in mind.

PS: love has no meaning by allusi

This fic. This fic right here. It’s beautifully written, it almost reads like a poem, and it’s so very heart-wrenching and bittersweet. It paints Saiki’s abilities and their negative effects on him in a realistic, bitter way, and has me in my feels whenever I read it. Always a great reread.

Keep in mind that these are my top favorites, but the tag is full of great fics, and you should go and take a scroll through ‘em regardless! Saiki x Akechi fics aren’t many in terms of number, which I hope can be changed in the future!

(p.s. thanks for liking my art, too!! <3)

#answered #saiki k fic rec #saikechi

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sehunniepotwrites · 3 years

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hello there ! I believe this is the first time I'm writing you an ask directly. First to all, nice to meet you, I've been following your blog since the time I first got into NCT and since Jaehyun is m

one of my bias I'm super thankful to have been able to find you! 🌸 I saw this was your one anniversary since you posted your first fic ? Congratulations and happy anniversary, I hope you had a good day and you're feeling happy as a tumblr writer !

Okay so, now that I've said all of that, I just wanted to comment on 'The apple of my eye'... I had a really good time while reading it and I was kinda pleasingly intrigued with the general theme of this story. I find it so so interesting when writers inspire their stories from real experience they had. It make the story more realistic and impactful (from my perspective, I felt the emotions x100). I l o v e d the meeting between our two main characters, the way jaehyun had his love at first sight was beautiful to see, even with the ridiculous moment where he fall off (lmao) but humor was really welcomed into this story as it make the reading session really enjoyable <3. I feel like the first segment of the story we looked at it with pink colored glasses, the amounts of compliments and appreciation the two of them had towards each others was endearing, it was a pretty stage of falling in love/having a crush! 🌻 also could I comment how kind and benevolent Jaehyun was towards yn? how could you not love this human being ? djjdjfjf I feLT THE ATTRACTION.

The cameos of some dreamies, aespa, red velvet and 127 members was a real take of breathe, meeting new side characters is really a good way of extending reader's opinion and visual representation of your story (oh God, am I making sense??) but yeah, johnny and wendy teasing jaehyun and yn unrevealed feelings, mark and taeyong's bets on their friends love life and joy being a side supporter of yn's love situation yup, I liked that ! also these side characters were so lovelies and helpful to our main idiots, it make me love them 🥺

turning to the angst side, it's the first time in a while that I'm feeling surprised by the tiny detail of a man being considerate towards a woman personal past feeling like?? I don't know, when he regretted acting on his feelings and leaning towards her to kiss her and then remembered about her past relationship issue, it was.. well welcomed ? i made it sound like a lot of writers write past consent but maybe it is because it's true? it's my opinion bc the stories I mainly read have this thing of writing some physical touch in certain situations and consent is not really approached ^^'

I'm glad you make it a fluff one and yn being brave to moving past her struggles and insecurities and jaehyun being honest and open toward her!

You worked so so well and this is one of my favorite jaehyun's fic, thank you so much for writing, having the courage to post your stories on public and letting us read freely ♡

Also, have here some teacher jaehyun'a visuals (bc why not?)

HI THERE, MY FRIEND! i recognize your url, it's so nice to finally meet you uwu and thank you! one year is such a big deal to me. i honestly didn't think i was going to be here for that long but i'm glad i stayed. and i'm glad jeong jaehyun is my new muse uwu

fun fact: i used to write member x member fics and member (mostly hunhan!) x oc for exo back in 2013-2015.

a lot of writers pull from reality in a way, some make it more obvious than others. i happen to be one that announces it to the world. most if not all all writers write from experiences big or small. it could be a little moment in time where they saw something happen to another person and they think, "oh, I want to write that!" or it's something that directly happened to them and they just add a twist to it!

yo, I just feel like jaehyun is the type to fall fast and fall hard. that's who I see him as, especially because he is an old soul romantic who listens to chet baker.

aND DEAR GOD ABOVE, JAEHYUN IS LITERALLY THE PERFECT GUY WRITTEN FROM THE FEMALE PERSPECTIVE. LIKE LOOK AT HIM. HE'S SWEET, HE'S FUNNY, HE'S HANDSOME. HIS FLAWS ARE CHARMING.

i wanted to make him a highly considerate and patient character because that's what kindergarten teachers usually are. patient, understanding, but they still don't take or tolerate shit. they're extremely empathetic and know how to handle a multitude of situations??? at least the ones I worked with are!! and l love them dearly uwu

i also wanted to add the insecurities on both sides, I wasn't sure if it was shown well with jaehyun but people are saying otherwise so guess I did?

ALSO, CONSENT IS VERY IMPORTANT TO ME!!! so I am happy to depict it in any way, shape, or form. I'm currently teaching it to my littles: "if you don't like something, you can say 'no.' if they continue and they don't listen, come get me, okay?"

I also love character growth! i struggled with writing long fics (for exo) in the past because I couldn't get my plots to move forward, so I stuck to drabbles. but now my mind screams for character development!! in every!! fic!! that!! i write!!

yO YO YO THIS IS HOW I IMAGINE TEACHER!JAEHYUN. HIS THICK HAIR ALL RUFFLED AFTER RUNNING HIS FINGERS THRU IT OR MAYBE FROM PLAYING GAMES WITH THE KIDS. AAAAAAAAAAAH.

(more teacher!jae x ta!reader may be coming your way, we'll see?)

since you left me a long msg, it's only fair I gave you a decent reply. i even had to put a break in between haha.

have a great day/night, love. you're always welcome to stop by!

#nikki replies #byunfirstlady #feedback #feedback: apple of my eye

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

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I'm here! Finally answering these Anon Asks!

1. It is real (for now) 😅 It'll be very different than before - exclusive to Paramount+, not including all of the original cast*, only 10 episodes, and will be focused on one case rather than a procedural.

* The main S15 cast was invited back. Kirsten is not returning, and I think Daniel Henney will be busy on his new show. Matthew mentioned not really wanting to, but he was willing to reconsider. Paget and Joe have been very vocal supporters of the reboot, but Paget has been calling for fans to support her in negotiations.

We'll see. Not much has been decided yet. You can read more here.

2. You're my favorite and I hope you get all the hugs and kisses you desire, friend 😚

3. Yeah... I really blame the writers. They clearly wanted her to be some weird, stereotypical "spunky" girl. But, naturally, the writing team is riddled with misogyny and a deep misunderstanding of women, lmao. RLC is an amazing actress. I don't know what she could have done to save that mess of a character.

I really think her character was unnecessary on top of all of that. Spencer's final arc was about how he spent his whole life basing his worth and purpose on the women in his life (his Mother, JJ, Maeve, Cat). Date Night would have been a lot more meaningful if, after he got closure with Cat, he realized that he was still his own person, and would continue to exist after she was gone, and that he was going to be okay.

They could've done something great... but, alas...

4. Awe, of course! Like I mentioned before, I am planning on collecting Dad!Spencer fics to post on Father's Day. I hope that they all comfort you and reassure you that, even though your Father failed you, there are still so many people who will love and appreciate you, and we want you to know it!

5. So, there is a sequel to the book (which I have not read!) where he ends up in a remarkably similar situation. Here is the summary:

A month after narrowly surviving the most harrowing night of his life, Chip Taylor is living in a seedy, pay-by-the-week motel in a sleepy coastal town in Florida. He still has most of the 68 grand he and his crazy ex-girlfriend stole back in Tennessee, but he's a man living at loose ends, directionless and without a plan. He's drinking too much and surrendering to too many of the same temptations that landed him in so much trouble in the first place. It isn't long before Chip finds himself wrapped up in another nightmarish descent into bloody madness and chaos. And this time his survival is more in doubt than ever.

That is, obviously, super depressing, lmao. Probably realistic, too, honestly. I personally like to believe that he got a decent job and lived a modest life. He met a very sweet person that treated him well. He got therapy and spent the rest of his life being perfectly mediocre and happy about it. But to be honest, I haven't thought about it a lot!

6. Angst is a category of literature, although the term is usually used exclusively in fanfiction. Here is a simple definition from Urban Dictionary that, I feel, summarizes it well:

An adjective describing a situation or literary piece which contains dark, depressing, angry, and/or brooding emotions from the participating characters.

7. Ugh, I'm so sorry that you had a bad experience. Medications can be so hard. For you for take steps, even in such a state, to try to self-soothe is extremely impressive and you should be proud of yourself!

I'm glad you exist, too, and I'm so happy to hear that my mindless Spotify collections provided you some comfort in such an awful time.

I hope you have a wonderful day, too. Long-term medication regimens are seriously exhausting, and you are doing a great job. Keep it up, friend! You deserve so much happiness in life, and I'm so proud of you for taking care of yourself the best you can.

8. [NSFW] Hi friend! I can't say much on this subject, as I'm not a lesbian myself, but I do want to assure you that I've heard other lesbians, gay men, and aroace people express similar sentiments!

The truth is, to me, erotica is completely different aspect of enjoyment than the physical acts of sex. There are many things I enjoy reading or watching that I would never engage in physically. When you view erotica as a form of expression, separate from the expression of physicality, you might find that the true divide isn't the gender of the characters, but the emotions and connections established.

TL;DR, I'm very sorry you're feeling confused, but I know a ton of lesbians who enjoy reading het erotica, and you shouldn't necessarily feel like you are less valid of a lesbian because you like erotica works (written predominantly by women, mind you!).

Also, if your friends mock you for reading fanfiction, they kind of sound like jerks. There isn't much difference between fanfic and published works such as Outlander, which have remarkable success. You could always just say you read that (the smut scenes are, IMO, significantly less cringy in Outlander than other mainstream erotica, such as 50 Shades).

I hope that you get some relief from the frustration you're feeling. If you decide that you're bisexual and just heavily lean to women, I am happy to celebrate that with you, but I'm just as excited to celebrate if you decide that you are still a lesbian! 💕

Best of luck, friend. I'm happy you're here no matter what ☺️

#answer #answered

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veryvincible · 4 years

Note

which of tony's exes is your favorite other than ty?

So, I’m not actually the best at picking favorites for anything. I have a favorite color, a favorite animal, and I think that’s about it.

But I do love Rumiko for a few reasons, one of which being the fact that she’s an East Asian character from the 90s who’s 1) loud, 2) opinionated, and 3) intelligent without that being the Main Aspect of her character. I think she’s also a decently realistic, flawed character whose grievances are understandable and actions sometimes go too far. She’s also just got a killer personality and a sweet, romantic side that I think would work absolute wonders with Tony if only they weren’t plagued by the, uh, Iron Man business. But that’s how it goes for a lot of Tony’s relationships, I guess. :(

I also love Whitney, and I’d actually really like to write more of her. If you were asking about my favorite “evil” exes aside from Ty, she would be at the top of the list. She encapsulates a lot of stories and feelings that I love in comics, and she’s such a well-written and almost familiar character that, at times, she gets... legitimately uncomfortable to read? Like a well-written horror or something that hits too close to home, sometimes I have to minimize the tab or put down the book and take a breather for a second because she’s just so well done. I mean, usually. There are also, uh, not well done... bits. But that’s fine.

Bethany Cabe is pretty hot also. I like her story and how her romance with Tony went-- I think it was a really nice, sweet ending for them-- but also she’s hot, and that’s cool of her to be.

#cassks #i honestly didn't care much for her characterization in ts:im because. i think she barely existed #in ts:im #as a unique and emotional character #and also ts:im is ts:im and characterization isn't ts:im's strong suit #but DAMN. ts:im bethany looks SMOKIN

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth

Warnings: noncon sex (oral, m&f, intercourse)

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is a fic writer and her number one fan can’t get enough.

Note: This is probably the most meta shit I’ve written but for all the fic writers out there, this one if for you. Hope y’all get the good d you deserve but until then, here’s this!

Please let me know what you think in a reblog/reply! <3 please and thank you.

You let out a sigh of relief and hit ‘post’. It was almost pathetic but it was the best part of your day, or most days. Having something to share with others was nice. The fact that they enjoyed your work and your boredom-induced work made it worth the frustration.

It wasn’t real writing. You knew that. Fanfiction was a genre to be laughed at. You didn’t admit it to anyone but there was a sense of pride to go along with the shame.

That part of you was kept online. The darker parts; the lust, the angst, the fear. It all went hand in hand and no one would guess that the bookshop assistant was stevies-doll. It felt almost scandalous to have a virtual alter ego.

You closed your laptop and checked the time. More than enough to get ready for work. Plain blouse, grey pants, mary jane flats. You were the typical bookish girl with dreams that would never come true.

The bus was late. Oh well. You’d still be there in time you’d just have to forego your usual espresso. Afternoons were draining and you often needed the boost to keep from nodding off in the last hour. You really weren’t sure why the shop stayed open so late; not many came out after five for books but traffic was relatively steady in the hipster village.

Nina met you with a frown. She preferred you at least ten minutes earlier. Tardiness had seen several other clerks fired and you had been the only to make it more than a year in the shop. Three in fact. This place was like a second home. A garden of ideas to plant the seeds of your mind.

When Nina left, you rearranged the desk. You moved aside her ledger and replaced it with your notebook, two pens to the right of it. In between the chime of the door and the rare customer queries you did most of your writing. When you reached a block you’d read, but today you felt particularly inspired.

The world was saved again. The news reports had shown footage of the daring rescue. As grim as the situation was, you couldn’t help but fantasize. The first avenger with his golden hair and sharp jawline was every woman’s Adonis. At least, you thought he was the very picture of perfection.

It wasn’t obsession. That was your mantra. You often argued with yourself. As much as you thought of the great Steve Rogers, it was only admiration. It wasn’t the possessive infatuation often found on social media. It was a hobby. An escape from the world.

You bent over the notebook. The shop was empty. The dulcet tones of indie folk floated along the shelves. You set pen to paper and waited for the ring to draw you away from the world behind your eyes.

You leaned on the counter and scribbled the first line in ink. That was always the hardest part. Then again, the beginning was always more exciting than the end.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

It was amusing at first. The thought of another person spending so much time writing about him. That someone would fabricate an entire universe in which he was entirely different. Somewhere out there was a woman who wore the pseudonym ‘stevies-doll’.

Steve knew he should have been perturbed by the fact. The idea of another so consumed by him that they would post almost every other day about him. He couldn’t remember how he stumbled on the small blog. A decent following but nothing close to viral.

The first story he read was cute. It even made him feel warm. The second was very much the same. He clicked through to another, this one more serious. Grey and daunting. A few more and he stumbled upon one he found most interesting, the letters NSFW emblazoned across the top. He googled the acronym and clicked back to the tab. Excited almost.

When he finished, he was warm in another way. Hot, almost. The things he read, the idea of him doing them, was almost arousing. Of course, he had never done any of it. Had never been more than the perfect gentlemen. Sweet and doting. That was how love should be. But that wasn’t love, no, that story was sex. Pure, unadulterated fucking.

He forced himself away from the computer after that. He needed to sleep. He had intended to browse his email quickly but he often found himself in the oddest rabbit-holes. That was definitely the deepest. He shook his head and chuckled. It was funny.

The next morning he awoke and went about his usual routine. He was out the door by seven. Off to save the world. Or wait around for it to need saving. At Stark Tower, he listened to Tony with his eyes on his phone. It wasn’t anything important. Some recounting about how he had scared Pepper with a nano-spider.

Steve gave a half-hearted chuckle and Tony went back to his screen. “Tough audience,” He muttered to Bruce who merely shook his head.

Steve leaned against a stool and squinted at his phone. He stared at the google search. Why had he typed it in? Somewhere in the tedium of Tony’s chatter, he had keyed in the name. He hit the first link and his phone loaded slowly.

His own face stared back at him. The banner was a press photo he had taken over a year ago. His bright eyes were staunch beneath the mask as he stared off into the distance. She had posted again. His thumb hovered over ‘read more’. Did he dare?

He looked up to make sure he was not being observed. The two scientists were too distracted to care about his online activity. He stood straight and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna hit the gym,” He lied. A grumble from both scientists as they squinted at the floating screens. “Right, have fun.” Steve said dryly as he left them to their work.

He stepped out in the hall and pressed his thumb to the screen. He bent his head over the phone as he walked blindly down the halls. Neither Tony or Bruce noticed through the window that he had gone entirely the wrong way. Steve didn’t either as his eyes flitted over the screen.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

You couldn’t believe how much your blog had grown in the last few months. You didn’t know if it betrayed your unexciting life or your one-track mind. Both, maybe. But it made your everyday responsibilities a little less tedious.

And the messages were even better than the hit count. Several had messaged to say they loved your work and went so far as to call you an inspiration. It was flattering but it was easy to remember who you were. No Stephen King or JK Rowling. You wrote silly one shots with limited development.

Today your inbox had been steady. Every time you found yourself bored at work, you opened the app and you had another message. Most of them short or even just emojis but nice nonetheless. And there was one you were waiting to answer

So long and in depth you had to give it more than just a thanks. You opened it several times and reread it.

‘Your story is really interesting. I think the way your portray Steve is believable. In this type of writing you rarely find anything realistic but your writing feels genuine if not entirely accurate. I would say you capture the essence of Steve perfectly and his actions at least make sense.

I always enjoy your updates and even look forward to them...especially the NSFW ones. ;)’

It was one of the few users who didn't use the anonymous feature and also left a complete comment. It was refreshing and you had come to look forward to their commentary. They went by CapUSA. Another Steve fangirl who was surprisingly inactive outside your blog. Her page was almost a clone of your own. They liked every post, reblogged, and commented. What more could a writer ask for?

Original characters maybe and not just fantasies of someone who’d never know of her existence. You closed your laptop and sighed. It felt like time. You could feel the block at the back of your head. The little thrill you got was wearing off and it felt like a phase better left to fade with your emo days in high school and that month in university when you dyed your hair purple.

You readied for work. Back on days that week. Opening was always easier. It didn’t feel so drawn out. Nina would be in at one and you’d keep her company until four. It meant little time for writing. Maybe that was for the better. You needed to start planning. For the future. For something truly your own. A fantasy so detached from reality that it would make market and maybe even a dime.

That was your dream. You didn’t want to be the listless fangirl forever. Ugh, how you hated to even call yourself a fangirl. No post today, you resigned. Maybe none tomorrow. You’d have to work up the courage to announce your hiatus. Life was calling and for once a sliver of genuine inspiration.

And the bookstore. It was Shakespeare’s birthday, which conveniently was also his death day. This meant two for one on all of his works. Nina also hired actors to stand outside the shop and re-enact famous scene from the playwright’s repertoire. They wouldn’t arrive till noon but you had a lot of set-up to do. Enough to keep you from thinking of the disappointed messages that would fill your inbox.

Steve scrolled through the pale pink blog for the dozenth time that morning. It had been two weeks since stevies-doll posted. The longest two weeks of his life. He wasn’t sure when it had become a staple in his life. A ritual almost. He’d read her latest fic as he laid down and try to clear his head of blood and grime. Lose himself in the person she dreamed he was. The man he had come to envy. Fictional but all too real in his head.

But there was nothing. At first he re-read and read again. But that grew old. He knew almost every story by heart at this point. He could recite the intro line to most and he fell asleep as his imagination reconstructed the things he had never done.

Her banner flashed across his sight when he woke, the image of his blue eyes staring beyond him. He’d come to think of her Steve as an altar ego. The beast buried deep inside of him. He was tired of being the nation’s golden child. Their unwavering moral beacon. He wanted to be him and she had helped him figure out who he truly was.

But she was gone. No green dot above her name in the chat window, her last post dated fourteen days ago, her blog like a time capsule. The ice that had preserved him for seventy years. Where was she?

Then a thought struck him. A devious one. He had been on enough missions to know his way around a computer. He considered himself quite savvy after living nearly a decade ahead of his time. It was simple enough. He tracked down many a drug pin this way and they were often concealed behind walls of encryption. He doubted she had more than a store-bought antivirus, if that.

He climbed out of bed and booted his computer. His leg shook impatiently and he tossed his phone just beneath the corner of the monitor. He rubbed his palms together as the home screen loaded and he clicked on the browser.

Her IP was simple enough to find. Right-click, inspect. When he found it, he felt his heart jump. This was a line. A very clear one. If he did this, there was no going back. He let go of the mouse and leaned his chin in his hands. He stared at her page, split by the window of code, and his jaw ticked.

He hit back and went to the messenger. He clicked on her name and his fingertips ran over the space bar. He didn’t know what to say. He’d send her little asks about her fics but he never messaged her directly. Would she respond?

‘Hey,’ He typed slowly, his fingers sped up with each key, ‘I’m a fan of your work. I think it’s excellent. I just wanted to check in and see if you were still writing for this blog.’

He hit enter and waited. He focused on the grey dot beside her name. If she saw this, it likely wouldn’t be until morning. He checked the time and sighed. It was late. He had an early briefing with Tony and he should try to sleep.

He hovered the cursor over the x but the dot turned green and he paused. The little ‘...’ blipped in the bottom of the chat box and the ding of her reply was music to his ears.

‘Hey, sorry. I know I’ve been quiet lately. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’m a bit behind at the moment. Thank you though for following me. I always enjoy your comments :)’ He read it several times before he could reply. Before he could even think of the words to.

‘It’s okay. We all have responsibilities. Take your time.’ He wanted to tell her to hurry up but who knew? She might be someone important, like a lawyer or teacher. He could wait. As long as there was hope.

‘Thanks. I appreciate that. Really.’ That response was quicker. Curt, almost.

‘I don’t want to overstep but are you okay?’ His cheeks were hot.

‘Ah, you know, life.’

He scratched his chin as he leaned back in his chair. Slowly he sat forward and typed. It took him three tries to get it right. Concerned but not pushy. ‘Anything you wanna talk about?’ He waited. The three dots appeared then faded. Several times before her answer blipped up.

‘I don’t wanna trouble you but I appreciate you asking. Nothing I won’t get over.’

‘Ok, no problem. Just know that if you need it, I could listen. It’s could to talk about stress.’ He laughed at himself. He should take his own advice. He had a horrible habit of letting things pile up until he burst at the seams.

‘Thanks again. I’ll ttyl. I gotta get some sleep. Have a good one.’

‘You, too,’ He replied a bit too quickly. ‘Talk to you then.’

You were ready to post again. It had been almost a month since your last fic and you had been reluctant to return. You couldn’t help checking in daily to see your notifications and scroll mindlessly through your own content. And your offline writing had come to a halt. You were stuck and you didn’t know how else to cope but fall back on what you knew.

Your new friend had helped too. CapUSA had quickly become a stalwart of your blog. She, or he, you still weren’t sure, spoke to you almost everyday. They encouraged you to try one more fic as you mulled over a certain prompt. Why not? It would be like a writing exercise. Maybe it would help you with your original writing. Take some of the pressure off.

And you didn’t just talk about writing. You talked about the bookstore and Nina’s incessant complaints. You talked about the stresses of your lives. Friends, or lack thereof. Cap seemed a popular person and recounted stories of the latest drama. A close knit group of friends who acted more like adversaries. It was amusing and made your forget that your life was rather empty.

You hit post and smiled. That familiar rush rolled over you and you snapped closed your laptop. You were already dressed and ready for work. You crammed in the quick editing session before the bus was due and now you’d have to run for it.

Back on afternoons. It was rainy and you were soaked by the time you got to the shop. The weather always helped traffic and you ducked behind the counter where Nina was tending to the line with Cara, a new addition. The curly-haired blonde reminded you of old Hollywood. Her high cheekbones and rose lips rivaled Monroe’s.

“Do you want me to start early?” You asked as you tucked your bag under the counter between them.

“You better. I’m gone in ten and Cara’s only on til three.” Nina muttered. “We got a new shipment. Boxes are at the end of the aisles. We’ve not had a chance to touch ‘em.”

“Okay, I’ll get right on it,” You pin your name tag on and stepped back around the counter. She was in one of her moods and all the better that you avoid her until she left. You went to the end of the history aisle and opened the box against the wall.

‘You working?’ The vibration drew your attention from re-arranging the non-fiction section. The message floated in a bubble on your lock screen. You smiled. This faceless stranger felt like more. Of course, virtual friendships were often fleeting.

You glanced down the aisle, both Nina and Cara were squinting at the computer as a customer waited patiently for them to figure out their conundrum. You swiped away the lock and typed swiftly with your phone hidden behind your leg.

‘Closing. Here all night.’

‘Oh :( you got company at least?’

‘For a couple more hours. But no shortage of work. :/’

‘Damn. Should I leave you alone?’

‘Up to you. My responses might be sporadic. Boss isn’t very pleasant today.’

‘Cool. I just read your new fic.’

‘Yeah? Sorry I haven’t checked my notifications just yet.’

‘No problem. I left a comment is all.’

‘What are you up to?’

‘Taking a break from driving. I should actually get back to it. It’s a long trip.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To see a friend.’

‘Ah, ok. Well, drive safe.’

‘I will ;) See ya later.’

‘ttyl :)’

‘Nina’s Nook’. Steve read the crooked moniker several times over. He couldn’t believe he was actually there. That she was inside. He made good time on the road. An eight hour trip in six. Of course, he hadn’t exactly abided the speed limit. His impatience had turned to recklessness. So unlike him.

The sky was dim. The summer nights came later and later. She’d be done in an hour. The streets were dying down and the door hadn’t chimed in almost as long. He felt nervous all of a sudden. He tried to shrug of his anxiety and took a breath.

She wouldn’t know it was him. Well, she might recognize him but she wouldn’t know he was CapUSA. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Steve Rogers in her bookshop. In this town. It would be a story she would recount for the rest of her life. An encounter she would never forget.

Oh, he’d make sure she remembered it.

He crossed the street. A single car passed as he stepped up on the curb. It was much quieter than New York. No honking, no shouts, no hissing sewers. He liked it. It was quaint. He stood before the door and peeked through the glass. There was no one behind the desk. But the sign read open and the lights shone in welcome.

He pushed down the handle and slowly opened the door. The bell announced his entrance and a small voice called from the corner of the shop. “One moment, please.” He heard the shuffle of books and light footsteps. She emerged from the far shelves and his lips parted at the sight of her.

He had seen her before. Her few photos on Facebook and Instagram. He had found those shortly after he ferreted out her IP. He couldn’t see much but her privacy settings allowed him a glimpse into her real life. Her smile was nicer than in her pictures.

“Sorry, I was--” She stopped short as she saw him. She blinked. He closed his mouth as hers fell open. Her voice was higher when she spoke next. “I was just sorting some stuff out. I--How can I help you?”

“Um, a friend recommended a book to me and I was passing by, I thought maybe by chance… you might have it.” He kept his voice even. The same one he used for his press conferences.

“Do you have a title?” She asked. He could see her fingers tremble. The guilt as her eyes rounded. She was thinking of all the things she had wrote about him. He was thinking of those too.

“Jeez, you know, I’ve totally forgotten but the author was, uh…” He pretended to think and his eyes drifted down her body. Her flowered blouse was boxy but her pants hugged the curves of her hips and legs. She clasped her hands together and the gesture pushed her chest together between her arms. “Margaret Archer--er, Atwood.”

“Hmm, she’s done a lot. Do you know what it’s about?” She pulled her hands apart and wiped her palms on her dark pants. His eyes followed the movement. He wanted his hands there. Wanted to feel her thighs against him.

“Something about an apocalypse...um, a character named...Snow--Snow something.” He acted like he coudn’t remember. Couldn’t recall that it was stevies-doll who had recommended the very book.

“Oh, Oryx and Crake, I think it is. It’s an interesting one.” She smiled, proud to have figured out the riddle. “If you will, it should be with our most popular books.”

She hesitated as she passed him. He followed her as she went to the shelf just beside the counter. She hovered her finger before the titles as she read them. She bent as she got lower. He admired her ass as she did. He tucked his hands in his pocket before he could reach out.

“Yeah, I think it’s in sci-fi.” She stood and peeked over her shoulder. “It’s just over here.” She led him down the narrow aisle to the end. “Starts just here so Atwood…” She scanned the shelf, “Here.” She pulled out the book and held it out to him. “We have it in hardcover too.”

He took it and felt the raised letters on the cover. “Thanks.” He didn’t even acknowledge the book in his hand. The aisle was so tight she was trapped between him and the wall. She gave a sheepish smile and he turned to press his back to the shelf. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

She nodded and squeezed past him. Her chest brushed against his torso and she pretended not to notice. Once past him, she cleared her throat. “If you need any help, I’ll be up front.” She turned before he could respond and her watched her go. He never would’ve guessed the mousy shop assistant would have such a lurid imagination.

You were in disbelief. It couldn’t be. Steve Rogers in your book shop? No, you were dreaming. Or was it a nightmare? Oh god, why had you written all that stuff? You needed to delete. Now. You could hear him. The floor creaked as he moved slowly down the aisle. You hoped he would’ve taken the book and gone. The longer he stayed, the worse you felt. Your cheeks were on fire.

Your phone vibrated. You swiped the screen and found a new message from CapUSA. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. You should just pretend you didn’t see it. You unlocked the phone and read the message.

‘Hey, how’s work?’

‘It’s fine.’ You answered. What could you say? Who would believe that Steve Rogers had walked in your door?

‘I just was thinking about your last fic.’

‘Oh yeah?’ You peeked over at the far aisle. The floor no longer whined with his weight.

‘Yeah, I’d love to re-enact the last scene.’

‘Sorry?’ You sent the message and it went unanswered. ‘I don’t get it. What do you mean?’

‘The one with the girl on her knees. Begging to be fucked.’

‘Okay? I still don’t understand.’ Your heart jumped. This was really weird.

‘Or maybe and I could fuck you on that counter you’re standing behind.’

You hit close and locked the phone. You dropped it and looked around the shop. You rushed out from behind the counter and glanced out the window. You turned the latch and the floorboards groaned. You turned and pressed yourself to the door. You forgot he was there.

How could you forget something like that?

“Sorry, uh, we’re closing up,” You felt around for the lock, “I was just--”

“That’s okay. I think I’m just about done.” He slapped the book against his palm and placed it on the corner of the counter. He set his phone on top of it with a flourish. “Why don’t you flip the sign and we can get started.”

“What are you--”

“Do you prefer I call you by your real name or stevies-doll?” He leaned against the counter and smirked. “Or I can just call you doll. I know you like that.”

“No,” You exhaled shakily, “Y-you can’t be…”

“You’re not happy to see me?” He asked. He didn’t sound like the hero you saw on the news. Barely looked like him now. His pupils dilated to darken his blue eyes and the shadows of the shop cast his face in sinister tones. “You can call me Stevie if you like.”

“I...What I wrote, it was just...” You spluttered. “I’m s-sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “I’m not mad. Intrigued really.”

He stepped closer and your ears pounded as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. You turned and fumbled with the lock. The door opened an inch before his hand slammed it shut again. He easily flipped the lock back into place and spun the sign with a flick of his thumb.

“You can close early and we can have some fun...maybe inspire a new fic.” His arm was around your waist and you grabbed onto his thick wrist.

“They’re just stories.” You kicked as he pulled you away from the door. He tugged the blind down over the window. “Stupid fantasies.”

“Well, consider this a dream come true, doll,” He spun and let you go. You collided with the desk and gasped as the air was knocked from your lungs. “I think you remember this scene.”

“What do you want?” You clung to the desk as you turned to him.

“You know, I’m everything people think I am. Straight-laced, valiant, boring.” He planted his feet and stared you down. “Or was...until I found your blog.” His tongue ran across his bottom lip. “It gets lonely on the road. At first, your blog was like a secret companion. It gave me something to look forward to but then it made me think. So many things I never even knew I was missing out on.”

“Please, I don’t know what you want from me,” Your voice cracked. Your fear surged and left you shaking against the counter.

“I want…” He tilted his head and his eyes flashed, “You.” He paused and pushed his shoulders back. “On your knees.” Your eyes rounded, “Oh yes,” He raised a finger, “Naked.”

You stared at him. You were frozen in place. The counter your only support from melting into a puddle. His nostrils flared as he exhaled; long and drawn out.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He snarled and his hand balled into a fist.

You gulped and held yourself with one hand against the counter as you bent to unlace your oxfords. You kicked them off with your socks and mustered your strength. You stood on your own and unbuttoned your shirt. You kept your eyes on the aged carpet stretched across the hardwood.

You dropped the blouse onto your shoes and unzipped your fly. The wool trousers slid halfway down without help and you untangled your legs from them. You added them to the heap and stood straight.

“Look at me,” Steve ordered. Your eyes snapped over to him. “Good.” You reached back and he raised a hand. “Stop...I wanna do it.”

He waved you forward and slowly you stepped away from the counter. He bared his palm in a gesture for you to halt and you hung your head. “Eyes up.” He corrected as he came closer. He walked around you and stopped just behind you.

His thick fingers touched the band of your bra and ran along it until they met at the hooks. He carefully unclasped it and the cups fell loose. He tickled your arms as he pushed the straps down them. He took it and flung it away from him. His hands came up to cup your tits and he pushed himself flush to your back.

“You always wrote so vividly of me but...I never knew how beautiful you truly were...how good you feel.” He squeezed and slowly lowered his hands. He dragged them to the side of your panties and slipped his fingers beneath the elastic. He bent as he guided the panties down your legs. “God, that ass.”

You shivered and his hands cradled your ass. He ran his rough palms along your cheeks and up your back. They settled on your shoulders and he pushed down firmly. “On your knees.”

He stepped back and you unsteadily got to your knees. He walked another circle around you. You could hear his dusky breaths. Glimpsed how his hand ran over the front of his jeans.

“Now ask, like a good girl,” He stopped before you and stared down with a smirk. “Go on, doll, I know you want it.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed. You grit your teeth and gather what was left of your wits. A story. That’s all this was. The letters could be backspaced and no one would know better of it.

“Please,” You recalled the last scene you had posted. The tingle which had flowed through you as you hit the button. What had she said? You opened your eyes. “Please, I want to...I want to make you happy.” You shuddered as the words whisked from you. “Can I?”

“Can you...what?” He taunted.

“Can I suck your dick?” It was barely a whisper.

“Oh, well, since you asked so nicely,” His hands were on his belt as he spoke. “But I have a different scene in mind for tonight. A new one.” He unbuckled his belt and cracked his neck. “I want you on the counter. On your back.”

You made to stand and his hand went to your head. He held you down.

“Crawl.”

You weakly dropped forward and turned. You crawled on hands and knees as he followed, stopping just in front of the desk as you followed his pointed finger to the other side. You stood and lifted yourself onto the counter and laid on your back. He guided your head over the side as he pulled you close and his hands found your tits again. He tweaked your hard nipples and you bit your lip.

He rescinded his hands and finished unzipping his pants. You tried not to watch as he pushed his pants down, his briefs too. The blur focused and you gaped at the size of him. He gripped himself and you snapped your mouth shut. He grabbed your chin and squeezed.

“Now, now, don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted,” He pressed his cock to your mouth and you were forced to open as his fingers threatened to crush your jaw.

He slid inside and your gasp was stifled as he met the back of your throat. He forced himself further and you threw your arms out. A clatter of books and papers as you swept them off the counter. He lingered at his limit and wiggled his hips. You arched your back as you choked and he grabbed your tit, kneading it as he slowly pulled out.

He pushed back in just as you gulped down air and you writhed atop the desk. He thrust in and out of your mouth. You gagged and groaned. The noises only fueled his fervour and he sunk in over and over until your head pulsed. The spit smeared around your lips and his balls.

He pulled back and slammed back in suddenly. His motion slowed as he came. He grunted, his breaths stuttered by the staggered rock of his pelvis. You clawed at the counter top and kicked until you could breathe again.

He slipped his cock from between your lips and his cum leaked from your mouth. You sat up and coughed. His hands were on your shoulders again. His fingers danced along your throat as if to ease your struggles.

“Come on, that’s just the first act,” He drew away and you glanced over your shoulder. “Turn around.”

You turned on the desk and he pulled your legs over the edge. He pushed your knees apart and stepped back to admire the view. You dug your nails into the lip of the counter to keep yourself from closing your legs.

“I know you’ve been dying to see this,” He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head.

His cock hung out of his pants. It twitched as he tossed his shirt at you. You caught it. It smelled like him. He shoved his pants down without pause and he hardened again. You dropped his shirt and looked away guiltily.

Had you not written this scene a dozen times over?

He was completely naked when you looked again. He came close, his hands on your knees as he knelt before you. You tried to pull your legs together but he held them apart. He shook his head and tutted.

“Just sit back and enjoy,” He licked his lips. “Trust me, it’s better than you could ever imagine.”

Your shock took over completely. You watched as he bowed his head and you felt his hot breath on your thighs. When his tongue met your pussy you gasped. He delved between your folds and swirled around your clit. Your nails went deeper into the wood and your thighs shook. It felt good. It shouldn’t, though.

He buried his face deeper and you watched his golden locks from above. He reached over blindly, his large hand found yours, and he guided it to the back of his head. He held it there a moment before letting go. You clung to him as he hands glided up your thighs and he framed your vee with thumb and index.

You arched your back and moaned. It was your declaration of surrender. You couldn’t resist it any longer. The heat stirred inside of you, the flames licking at your thighs and back. You urged Steve closer though he couldn’t possibly go any deeper.

His hands slipped down to the outside of your thighs. Your legs closed around his head and held him there. He tipped you slightly and you curled around him as he continued to lap. Your breaths mixed with throaty hums and you fell back.

You had one hand still on his head and the other in your hair as you cried out in a mighty climax. He didn’t stop until you were shaking across the counter. When at last his mouth left you, you shivered. A sudden coolness washed over your body. He stood and you looked at him through the haze.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you to your feet. You wavered and he spun you quickly. You caught yourself on the desk and he slapped your ass. “That’s it,” He purred. “You’re getting it now.”

He nudged your shoulder until you were bent entirely over the counter, your toes barely met the floor. He rubbed your ass and pulled your cheeks apart. His cock poked you as his hand slipped lower and he tickled just below your ass. You squirmed and he chuckled.

He felt around and his cock slipped lower as he bent his knees. He dragged his tip along your folds before prodding at your entrance. He shoved his hand between your legs and forced them apart.

He pushed inside and slowly stretched you around him. Your head shot up at the strain. A mix of pain and pleasure as he got deeper and deeper.

You whined as he bottomed out and his hips bucked almost instinctively. He hit your cervix and you cried out. He eased out and pushed back in. He repeated this again and again, his motion careful. Deliberate. He brought his pelvis flush to your ass and groaned.

“Fuck,” He slapped your ass again.

He drew back and slammed into you all at once. All restraint was lost and he thrust mercilessly. His pace was wild. You reached out to grab at the edge of the counter, your hips hitting the other painfully. The spark had caught and you felt the flame about to burst.

Your orgasm was surprising. More agony than pleasure. You whimpered and pushed your head into the counter as you heaved. You could barely breath as Steve never wavered. He fucked until you until your walls ached. Until they turned numb and you were nothing but a mewling fool before him.

He bent over your, his muscled torso against your sweaty back. He rutted atop you frantically. His hips jerked as his grunts deepened. His breath caught and he swore. He lifted himself off you and you felt the warmth spill down your ass and thigh.

You laid breathless as he panted behind you. He rubbed his cum into your skin with two fingers and you shook. You tried to push yourself up from the desk. He caught your hip and shoved you back down.

“Oh, we’re not even close to the finale,” He pinched your ass and you squeaked. “Not to mention the epilogue.”

tags to be added in reblog

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #fic #steve rogers fic #au #marvel #mcu #captain america #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers #dark!fic #dark fic #dark!verse #darkverse

1K notes · View notes

canimal · 3 years

Note

Is Wintercearig the one you're looking at quitting? It's the only one I read since I like Barty but it's so well written. I've seen much worse Hermoine where she's far too perfect and the pairing is harder to find decent ones to begin with. Your Hermoine makes sense in it though!!! I was one of the smart kids with high expectations in school so I can relate to her feelings in that fic so much and it's spot on!

Thank you! You’re very sweet and encouraging. I needed it!

But no, I’m not talking about Wintercearig. It doesn’t have many readers but that’s understandable considering it’s such a rare pairing. Thankfully those few blessed souls who are reading it are usually pretty good about letting me know they are and telling me what they think.

Sometimes my stories can be a little too realistic for some readers’ tastes. Lol! Yeah, just because you’re smart and do well in school doesn’t automatically translate into having an amazing career where all of your ambitions and dreams are fulfilled. It irritates me to no end when I read a story where Hermione is fresh out of Hogwarts and she’s already a supervisor and she just keeps getting promoted and everything she touches is gold. Uhh... that just doesn’t happen! Maybe for a blessed few, but nah, we all start at the bottom even with fancy degrees and it’s not always very fun. Like my ex-husband always says, “It’s called work because it’s work. If it was fun, everyone would want to do it and you’d have to pay THEM to let you do it.” 😂

I touched on Hermione having an unfulfilling career in both Parolee and His Princess and Love Me Or Leave Me Alone. The number of readers who would make comments about how she should just find another job if she was miserable made me laugh. (Actually, they annoyed me to no end at first until I realized the vast majority of them were young people who had yet to learn that particular “joy” of adulthood for themselves. Then I could laugh.) If you left every job just because you were unhappy with it, no one would ever hire you because you would have a very spotty employment history. Sometimes life isn’t what we hoped it would be when we were younger. (The number of people I’ve met who thought they would be making six figures when they graduated from college just because they had a degree is astounding!)

Hermione will never be the youngest Minister for Magic in history in any of my stories. I HATE that trope. Nope. Writers write what they know so she’s going to slog through the bureaucratic world like I’ve slogged through the corporate. It’s not all bad and some of it is actually pretty good, but you have to pay your dues. Nothing just gets handed to you because you had great grades in school. (I was second in my class, narrowly missing out on being Valedictorian by a tenth of a point 🤷🏻‍♀️... and I’ve had to work hard for everything I have. No one cares I was a great student.)

In regards to my stories, I should always just stay in rare pairs land because I’m happier there. The readers are kind and encouraging there. Any time I stray into more popular pairings, I end up regretting it. (There’s a reason why the only other story I’ve deleted besides The Silver Mage’s Captive was of a popular pairing.)

I’m not deleting anything now. Lest I be accused (again 🙄) of being desperate for attention. I just really really really really really REALLY want to give up on a story. I have a few more chapters already written that I can post. Maybe when I run out of chapters and it’s time to write it again, I’ll make a more permanent decision on its fate.

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verai-marcel · 5 years

Text

The Sweet Taste of You (RDR2 Fanfic, Incubus!Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+)

Summary: On a foggy night in St. Denis, he finds you alone in an alley and he's entranced. The taste of innocence, mixed with the aroma of desire sprinkled with a dash of fear when you see him approach, is a heady combination, and Arthur cannot resist.

Author’s Notes: For @ana-xor, winner of the 600 follower giveaway! Thank you for such a fun and naughty request, this was a pleasure to write.

Tags: medium honor Arthur, incubus!Arthur, switching POVs, smut, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie

Word Count: 3602

AO3 Link is here, cowfolks.

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He felt it, deep in his belly. A craving, an emptiness he could no longer ignore.

He hungered.

Getting up from his cot in the dead of night, Arthur Morgan quietly grabbed his satchel and left camp on his horse.

Galloping through the fields and forests, he made his way to Saint Denis, down a familiar road, winding through a dark alley, to a door on the backside of a nondescript building. A red lantern hung above his head as he knocked quietly three times.

A slot slid open and a pair of kohl-lined eyes blinked at him. A lilting, accented voice called out through the door.

“Welcome, Mr. Callahan. The usual?”

“Feelin’ a bit… more.”

The door opened, revealing a woman with tan skin, a dress that wrapped attractively around her body, and alluring eyes.

“Come into the foyer, please. I’ll get Lara and Tanya for you tonight.”

Arthur nodded. “Thank you, Madam.”

***

Blinking against the early morning rays, Arthur slowly sat up, careful to not wake the two ladies sleeping next to him. He checked their pulses to make sure they were okay; he was always careful, only took what he needed and no more. After one close call years ago, he knew better than to risk it. If he was feeling… peckish, he always asked for two.

Pulling his clothes on, he snuck out of the room, leaving an extra two dollars on the table for them when they woke up, and headed downstairs.

“Did you find them to your liking?”

Arthur nodded at the madam. “Yes, they were very fine.”

“Did you wear them out?”

“Yeah, sorry. Had, uh, a lot of energy.”

She smiled knowingly. “Of course. See you next month.”

***

Riding back to camp, Arthur felt better than he had all week. He had stretched his limits, knowing that he should have fed last week, but with everyone relying on him to bring back money for the camp, he hadn’t found the time.

Can’t push it like that again. Too risky.

He remembered what his father had told him, after throwing his mother’s journal at him.

“You’re a freak. But you’re my freak. So better learn how to take care of yourself. Your ma left this for you.”

As a teen, he had read his mother’s journal, confused by all the advice she had written. He dismissed it all as the writings of a woman at the end of her life, losing her mind to a deadly fever.

It wasn’t until he had nearly drained a woman of her life, watching her lips turn blue before stopping himself, that he took it seriously. He pored over the journal again, committing everything to memory. Never again would he make a mistake. He never wanted to see a woman drained of her life because of his other side.

His father had called him a demon. He was half right.

***

It was a late night, but you hadn’t finished washing all of the clothes that had been dropped off today. You were the newest hire, and thus lowest in the pecking order.

So there you were, a single electrical bulb above your head as you cranked the handle of the washing machine, watching as the suds and water cleaned the last of the linens of the day. While you turned the handle, you daydreamed. An image of a strong, big man taking you into his arms, kissing you, perhaps giving you love bites on your neck… you sighed. Working late nights like this, you figured you didn’t have a chance to find a man any time soon. But you could dream.

When the linens looked clean, you took out the sopping wet pile and brought it to the wringer. Putting it into the machine and turning the crank to squeeze out all the water, you continued to daydream, your thoughts turning to more lurid activities. Imagining a man between your legs, his strong hips moving in a steady rhythm, you were distracted enough to not notice that the cloth had finished running through for a few turns of the handle.

Taking the linens to the clothesline area, you hung them to dry. Glad that you were finally done for the night, you exited out the back door that led to the alley and locked up.

Looking around for any muggers, you quickly walked down the alley towards a main road that would take you home. Turning the corner, you ran into a wall and stumbled.

Or at least, you thought it was a wall. You looked up, craning your neck to see a big man with a five o’clock shadow and a worn black hat. His hand was holding your elbow, keeping you steady as you regained your footing.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir,” you quickly said, your heart pounding. He was tall.

“Not a problem, miss.” He had not let go of your arm. “Are you alone? May I escort you somewhere?”

You blinked. “Erm, could you take me to the main road? I can go from there.”

“Of course,” he said as he let go of you, his voice feeling like soft fur against your skin. He offered his left arm. You glanced at the guns on his belt, and realized that if someone did try to rob you, he’d take care of them in an instant. You also came to the conclusion that if he had wanted to rob you, he would have already done so.

Taking his arm, you let him lead you out of the alley. He gallantly escorted you to the main road, looking around for anything or anyone that could come near. You felt safe, a strange sense of trust developing in your heart. He was a stranger, what were you thinking?

But when you reached the main road, he turned to you and held out his hand. “My lady.”

You took his hand, and he raised it to his lips and kissed your hand like a real gentleman. When his eyes met yours, your breath caught. They were the most beautiful color, like gemstones sparkling in the light of the streetlamps.

"Th-thank you, sir."

"My pleasure," he said softly, his lips against your skin, and you felt a zing of desire jolt through your body as he said it.

Quickly pulling your hand out of his, you scurried away, afraid of how he was affecting you. But you knew, in your dreams tonight, you'd be thinking of him, and wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours.

***

Arthur watched the woman walk down the road and felt his hunger grow. He realized that the small taste he had taken was like a drug, and he wanted more.

She had tasted of innocence, desire, and a dash of fear. A heady concoction to his demon-side, and he needed more.

He needed her.

All of a sudden, he didn't want to go to the Madam tonight. He knew he should, knew he needed to feed.

Shaking his head, he made his way to the dark alley.

After five steps, he turned around and left. He was hungry, but he wanted someone specific, and no one else would do.

***

Another late night, as per usual these days. You were glad that business was picking up, since that meant you would be paid more, but being alone at night was a bit nerve wracking. As you locked up the back door, you felt a tingling on your neck. Quickly turning around, you saw the man from last night, approaching you slowly.

"What do you want?" you asked, proud that your voice wasn't shaking as much as you felt.

"Just wanted to make sure you were safe," he said, holding his hands out placatingly.

You tilted your head. "Why would I not be?"

He shrugged. “It’s late, and I got to thinkin’, what if some robber came across you?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “So… what do you want?”

The man held out his arm to you, just as he did the night before. “Just want to make sure you get home safely, that’s all.”

You rolled your eyes. You weren’t born yesterday.

The man looked down and smiled. “Alright, you got me. I want to get to know you better too.” Then he looked up at you, and the earnest look in his eyes moved your heart. “May I escort you home?”

You swallowed. Taking a chance, you walked up to him and took his arm.

“Alright.”

***

You found out his name was Arthur, and he was also working late nights recently. He seemed like a decent man, just doing errands for a few businesses to make ends meet.

Throughout the week, he came by and escorted you part of the way home. And every night, you let him get closer and closer to your actual apartment. Chatting with him was delightful; he was charming, funny, and he listened to you with no judgement. He didn't offer advice unless you asked for it, and when he did, his advice was thoughtful and realistic. Too many men just talked down at you, and hearing Arthur speak to you like a fellow human being and not some kind of lower creature was a breath of fresh air.

At first, you only let him take you to the main road. Then it was down the main road to the side road that led to your building. Then it was down the side road too.

And tonight? He came up the stairs with you, and stood at your door.

"Well, guess I'd better go," he said, a little sad. He held out his hand, like he always did. You put your hand in his, but tonight you were feeling bold. Pulling him closer, you went on your tip toes and kissed him on the cheek.

Arthur blinked, surprised, and touched his cheek, as if he couldn't believe.

"Sorry, was that too forward of me?" you asked, suddenly regretting your decision.

"Not at all," he quickly said, and took a step forward, putting a hand against the door jamb, trapping you against the door. "Does that mean I can be more forward with you?"

You nodded, your heart in your throat.

With his other hand, he held your chin, tilting it upwards as he leaned down. He glanced at your lips before he moved that last inch to kiss you. It was a tentative touch at first, a light brush of his lips against yours.

As you responded in kind, he moved closer, pressing his body against yours as he encouraged your mouth to open up for him, his tongue tasting you. The kiss became a heated inhalation of your desire, and you gave him what he demanded.

"Can I come in?" he asked in a whisper.

"Yes," you replied, quickly pulling out your keys and opening the door.

***

He quietly followed you into your dark apartment. Seeking the one electric lamp located near the door on a small desk, you stumbled a bit as your hands reached for it.

Then it was suddenly on, and you found Arthur standing next to it, his hand on the switch.

"How'd you find it so easily?"

He shrugged. "I can see well in the dark."

You raised an eyebrow, but ignored the sudden chill down your spine. So he had good vision, so what? You turned around and shut your door, locking it.

As the lock clicked, you felt Arthur come up behind you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one arm against the door.

"So darlin'," he drawled as he pressed his body against you, "Last chance to tell me to get out."

He pressed his lips against the nape of your neck and breathed in. His voice dropped, and his next words came out in a raspy murmur.

"Because if you don't, I ain't lettin' you escape."

Desire pooled between your legs just as a small shiver of anticipation laced with nervousness went through your body. You gasped softly as you felt his lips travel up your neck and around your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive skin as he pinned you against the door with just his hips. You could feel his excitement against your rear, and wiggled experimentally.

"Eager li'l thing, hm?" Arthur teased. He pulled away from you and guided you to your bed on the other side of the room. Standing, staring at your bed, you tried to turn to face Arthur, but he put his hands on your shoulders and kept you in place.

"Let's get you out of these clothes," he said as he reached around to unbutton your blouse. His hands wandered down, each button coming undone and revealing more of you, his fingers brushing against your chemise. You stood still, unable to move as you reveled in the feeling of his hands sliding the fabric down your arms. He pulled your blouse off and tossed it aside, then he went for your skirt buttons. His chest was pressed against your back, his breath on your ear as he took off your skirt, his hands gripping your hips as it fell from you.

In only your chemise and drawers, you felt so exposed. You lifted your arms to cover yourself, but Arthur quickly grabbed your wrists and set them at your sides.

"No hidin' from me," he rumbled. "Lemme see everythin'."

You kept your arms down as he pulled the chemise straps down your shoulders. The soft fabric brushed against your nipples as he slid it off you, and he hummed in appreciation.

He cupped your breasts, his fingers teasing your sensitive buds. You cried out softly with pleasure; his hands were warm, almost hot, and it felt so good in the cool air of the night.

Soon his hands wandered down and untied the ribbon holding up your drawers. They slid down your hips, Arthur's hands following them so he could caress your thighs, then your ass, grabbing and squeezing, almost too rough in his handling.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

Then he suddenly bent you over. Your arms shot out, reaching for the bed for balance. He caressed the small of your back, then your ass. You felt two fingers begin to explore your pussy lips, spreading the juices that had been flowing from you since he laid his lips against your skin.

"Naughty girl, so wet already. I've barely begun, and yer already like this?"

He slapped your ass. You yelped in surprise.

"Such a pretty voice."

You heard him unbuttoning his fly. Then felt him, hot and hard, nudging your folds. He pressed harder against you, and your body took him in, stretching to fit his thick cock. Mewling helplessly, you lay your head on the bed, resting on your forearms, gripping the bed sheets as Arthur slid in all the way, his hips flush to your ass.

"Good girl," he praised as he pulled almost all the way out. One breathless moment passed.

Then he slammed back into you, one hand covering your mouth to stifle your scream as he took you slowly at first, then built up to a breakneck pace.

“That’s it darlin’, you feel so good,” he praised as his hold on your hip tightened.

You weren’t sure how much time passed as he fucked you, his hand traveling from your mouth to your hair, grabbing at it and pulling back to make your back arch, but at some point your knees buckled and you fell forward onto the bed. Arthur fell with you, bracing his arms on either side of you as he kept himself inside of you.

One arm wrapped around your shoulders, his other hand still holding onto your hip as he rolled his hips slower, entering you from this different angle. His deep rumbles of pleasure vibrated against your back.

“Can’t get enough of ya,” he murmured. He started to nibble on your neck, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat on your skin. “Yer like whiskey.”

Soon his pace slowed to a stop and he staggered up and away from you, as if he was drunk. You turned over to see him standing above you, his eyes glazed over as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

You shakily stood up and began to help him. As he pulled his suspenders and shirt off, your fingers traced the contours of his shoulders, his biceps, his forearms. You ended up brushing your fingertips across his abdomen and watched as he dropped his jeans to reveal his powerful legs. He stepped out of his jeans and toed off his boots, kicking everything aside before he looked at you, a small smile gracing his lips as he noticed that you were staring at him, desire written all over your face.

Arthur stood before you in the dim lamp light, naked and glorious. Toned muscles and skin that was criss-crossed with scars filled your vision, and you didn’t think any other man would ever do for you. He was everything you lusted after and more.

“You ready fer more, darlin’?”

You nodded.

“Good. Lay down.”

You did as he bade, watching him climb on top of you and rest himself between your legs, his arms around yours, his hands digging into your hair. He rubbed his shaft against your folds, against your core, and your hips answered in kind, the two of you undulating together, drowning in pleasure.

Then he re-angled his hips and pushed into you. You hooked your legs around his waist and reached up to dig your fingernails into his back. You pulled on him, urging him deeper, deeper, until his body was flush with yours, his cock making you feel so very full.

Arthur held your face in his big hands. “Look at me,” he whispered.

Your eyes focused on him. He looked hungry.

“Delicious,” he murmured before kissing you.

This kiss was nothing like anything you had felt before. This kiss was erotic, electric, an explosion of passion that left you breathless as he drank you down. It was as if he was inhaling your soul.

When he pulled away, his eyes roved your face as if he was searching for something.

“How you feelin’?”

“Wonderful,” you said.

“Not tired?”

You shook your head.

He smiled. “Good.”

Then he kissed you again as his hips pumped in a steady rhythm. He let out a satisfied moan, tucking his head into your neck to give you little love bites.

“So sweet,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “I could just eat you up.”

You felt his grip tighten before he started to pound you into your bed.

“Want to make you mine, sweetheart.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “Can I?”

Wrapped in his arms, his body on top of yours, feeling him thrust into you over and over with no intention of stopping, you clung to him, arms and legs keeping his body on top of you, your desire driving you to your decision.

“Yes, take me Arthur! Please, make me yours!”

He let out a wordless sound of lust as his arms held you tight, muffling your cries with his shoulder. You bit down on him, and he muttered expletives as he moved faster, chasing his pleasure inside of you.

“Take it all, sweetheart,” he growled as he spent himself deep in your body, thrusting a few more times before staying still, enjoying the feel of coming with you around him. Then he reached between you two and started to play with your clit.

“Ar-Arthur!” you whimpered, and he kept stroking you, his cock staying hard as he rocked his hips slightly. You felt your climax growing like a wave, and when it came crashing down, you covered your moans with your hand as you spasmed under him.

Arthur smiled devilishly and fucked you again as you came, tearing your hand away from your mouth and kissing you once more, another soul-sucking kiss that heightened your climax and made you cry from the intensity. You swear you saw stars for a moment before Arthur moaned and came inside of you again.

“Damn,” he muttered, panting as he fell next to you, holding you close to him as he caught his breath. “Yer somethin’ else.”

When you didn’t respond, he suddenly sat up and took you by the shoulders.

“You alright?” His eyes were a little wild, his tone was beyond concerned, almost panicked.

“I’m fine, I feel great,” you replied sleepily. “Just a little tired.”

Arthur caressed your cheek oh so tenderly. “Good.” Then he kissed your forehead. “I’m glad.”

You fell asleep, wrapped up in his arms, a soft humming sending you to the deepest sleep you’d ever had in your life.

***

The morning sun lit up her skin, a beautiful color that he could not hope to capture in his sketches. So Arthur kissed her shoulder and tucked the covers around her before getting up quietly.

He recalled a passage of his mother’s journal, and smiled softly to himself.

One day, you might find someone special. You’ll crave her like no other, and no other will do. If you find her, treasure her. Care for her like you would a garden. For if you do, you’ll never have to hunt again. Her love will feed you for the rest of your life.

Getting dressed, he kept looking back at this woman that he had laid claim to, and started planning.

He knew planning wasn’t his thing, but he had a purpose now.

Get out of the gang. And get back to her.

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End Notes: AND HE GOT OUT AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER. THE END. Did I look up the history of laundry on Wikipedia? You better believe it. Hope y’all enjoyed this, especially you, @ana-xor! Thanks for your patience!

#arthur x reader #arthur x fem!reader #incubus arthur #fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #writing #nsft #lemon fanfic #tumblr gift #tumblr request #arthur morgan

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mytwitterisdogtoast1 · 4 years

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Yugi’s decks and some other odd stuff that just makes sense.

This is a weird double kind of post where I focus on many things because of a little project I’ve been working on. So as anyone who has ever grown up and has been into Yu-Gi-Oh knows you just can’t not like the anime. From the ridiculous duels and cards to the ridiculous hair on every single character and I’m not talking about the newer shows so much as just the original show because that’s probably the “best” one to most people (partial to GX myself even though I know it’s not the best and Konami kinda messed up on it at the end of the series in USA). See if you watch the show a simple easy thing that anyone who gets it would like would be to get the decks of a character. Heck even if it was Weevil people would be a little excited but not as excited as if they got one of the main characters. Which was great because even though it’s old news I was very excited to buy the legendary decks for Yugi. See that is an amazing product idea that can bring in everyone who likes Yu-Gi-Oh. You bring in the casuals by giving them his decks, you bring in the collectors for cards that don’t exist yet here in the west or even those who have missed out on older cards, and you bring in the more serious crowd for cards that are in archetypes that might be harder to find maybe (probably not because the game has evolved to such a degree that even mirror force isn’t good anymore.) but still 2/3 ain’t bad. Let’s be honest though. This is Konami so they’re gonna find a way to fuck it up and I’m a decent guy so I usually try to have some faith in things. Even things like Konami who ruin most of their IPs in general but hey, I keep that faith. This was a simple thing to do but in the end they messed it up with really easy to do things. Now let’s just be really honest about this. if this product interested you. You would buy it if it hit the sweet spot of cost = product. I know I would and I’m sure many others would as well. Let’s assume Konami does its best in that it not only releases every single card Yugi has ever used before but also makes each card that doesn’t exist, to exist. They would have to make a handful of cards yes, but people would probably go and buy that product cause every deck he’s run is in it in their entirety. We can assume they would use his actual deck lists and make his actual decks. Yeah, his decks are not good but let’s face it fan, cosplayers, kids, adults and everyone and their grandma would buy this product. Nostalgia is a huge thing nowadays and even if we can’t play it in a tournament and hope to win we could just roll up, throw down a fiver and just play that sweet sweet celtic guardian. Now let’s be a little more realistic. Let’s assume we take the middle road which is absolutely the best idea. Heck we’ll take both sides of that road and give two middle road ideas that are the best idea. Make his actual decks and only use cards printed while printing about 5 cards that haven’t been made. That electromagnetic turtle is pretty dope not gonna lie. Point is even then we would still get a 4 card deck from each main part of the journey. 120 cards, 5 promos, the art cards for duelist kingdom, the god cards (playable or not even) would not set anyone back hard in printing since they’re all stuff already made in real life and would even bring cards like torike and horn imp into the west which haven’t even come here. Heck don’t even make decks. Throw in every card from every single season he has ever used. We don’t need to have 2 giant soldier of stones. (yes he uses two at one point) It would however be nice if we just got the cards the way he has them in looks and what he has. Call it Yugis legendary collection and it is the same exact thing. The worst thing you could do is just make his deck and just add in random shit like 3 dark magician girls. Which is what they did. Like This is a simple thing to make man how could you mess up by adding cards he didn’t use in decks when they didn’t exist then? Even detonate which is a card Kaiba uses. Look man it’s not the biggest of deals but the fact that the next set was stuff “based on their main cards” and Yugi had exodia? HE USED IT IN ONE DUEL. Make a dark magician deck. Sure it would reprint some of the same stuff but lets face it. THAT’S WHAT PEOPLE WOULD WANT. We don’t want something LIKE it. We want that thing. Why does this matter? Honestly besides how sad the product was it really made me want the thing I didn’t get and it is near impossible ( at least I assume) to get torike and horn imp in the west when I believe it has had one printing in the east only and the only way to buy the cards are to go buy Orica stuff. Which in their own way is nice too. Support artists. So I took it upon myself to make those exact decks and to in general just make it a small side project in my life. Duelist kingdom deck was mostly easy to do and I am missing just 3 cards so I can buy 2 of them no problem and the others are torike and horn imp. Cards we never got (fuck you Konami). That’s when I started to see the other seasons which are not cannon in comics but are technically cannon in the show. Filler is a very iffy thing to use but I’m super casual and actually like filler in things I like. Hell DBZ has some of the better filler in the side stuff it puts in because it never really changes much. However sometimes you can have too much filler or filler that changes the series totally (stares at bleach, Naruto, and one piece. You all know what you did). Now why does this also matter? Because it raises a ton of questions about the series in general when you look at a characters decks. Did you know that as iconic as Gaia the fierce knight is he doesn’t show up past duelist kingdom? Even in the manga he only has it in duelist kingdom. This raises a ton of questions. Like Gaia the dragon champion is really good in the anime. Because let’s face it. If you are going to use chimera in your duels than why not have Gaia in there as well to make a stronger monster? It’s one of his boss monsters. I mean he still uses curse of dragon in every deck except waking the dragons which again I know it’s not fully cannon but that shouldn’t stop them from using him. Unless there was a decent enough reason. I think that reason is you don’t need the monster itself in duelist kingdom to make the fusion. Which I can actually make an argument for. Yugi has 2 monsters in his deck. First is Black skull dragon and Dragon master knight. I know one is filler but it would fit the same argument regardless because even if we take from the anime it might be a little different in the manga and comic for battle city but that is indeed cannon. So the point I’m making is it’s a little strange Yugi would have either of those mosnters in his deck. He never knew he was going to work with Joey or Kaiba ever so why would he just have them? Trade doesn’t really work that way in the show cause we never see it and I know that dude isn’t carrying around cards because let’s face it. He didn’t bring anything but his cards and a glove. He didn’t have replacement cards. Which makes you wonder where the time wizard was from when he gave it to joey. He isn’t carrying extra cards cause the world doesn’t have packs the same way and cards would be more diverse or shittier and packs are like 5 cards per pack. So having such a rare and powerful card like that and it just “being around” makes 0 sense. Which makes you believe that it came from his deck. So time wizard was an original card. We have to remember that the reason he never played it is he never drew it in his duels and then gave it to Joey. Which makes the most sense. So if we go by that logic it would be understandable that since time wizard doesn’t fuse into baby dragon that you don’t even need thousand dragon in the extra deck. That also means dark sage isn’t even in Yugis deck because if it was meant to pair with time wizard he’d have taken it out or he just simply never ran into it or was a jerk and threw it in to counter Joey. So by that logic the reason Gaia never made a return is he never had the fusion in the first place. This makes me assume many things about the decks written are kind of misleading. Firstly the fact that Yugi has the same deck kind of but changes it every season. It makes 0 sense that he would in a world where cards are not a common supply even though it is the most common thing in his world to have that he would just always remake his deck mostly alike and then in general change 10 cards out only to put them back in to only take them out again. So when mysical elf is in his deck in virtual world but he doesn’t put 2 giant soldiers of stone in makes me question if he actually even doesn’t have mystical elf in his deck normally but sure as heck has feral imp. I came to the conclusion that in every season Yugi is just running the same deck with no differences. If there are differences it would be he added them in later on because he got the card and the only reason we never see it is that the man has over 80 cards in his deck. No it’s not 40 no matter how many times he says it because anime rules. It makes even less sense to change the deck not just for every season but every duel that he would have life shaver in against Kaiba only and then never play it in a duel ever again or something along those lines. Why does this matter? If I am going to make his decks I want to be as “accurate” as possible and am going to make his decks but it’s not like anyone wants to just make 7 decks for the dude. Especially when you take the Pharaoh into account as well. And who even wants to actually just make a Yugi themed deck? It’s not the same as having his decks themselves. It is much cooler in the end to actually have his deck. Even if it is 4000 cards large.

#yugioh #yami yugi #yugi moto #konami #legendary decks #deck #atem

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spaceorphan18 · 4 years

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The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Nostalgic memory: I’m pretty sure prior to this, I had only seen this film once in the theater, and found it rather disturbing. Later on, I have a piano book of music from this film, and played the Bells of Notre Dame a lot. I’m not entirely sure why.

This is... kind of a fascinating and complex film to review. Because I think it goes a little deeper than the usual - was it good or bad - discussion. Is it a well done film? Yes - relatively so. Is it a good adaptation of Victor Hugo’s novel - probably not. Is it a good kids’ movie - eh....

Alright, so let’s start off by saying... this movie is dark, man. Like - there are some complex and twisted things going on throughout a majority of this film. The first thirty minutes of this film is about death, disfiguration, abuse, and gaslighting. Then we get into public humiliation. And then, because that’s not enough, we get into themes of sin, lust, racism, and genocide - because why not. I mean, this film is a wild ride. And it’s meant for kids!

So, Quasimodo is the hunchback who lives in the tower because ole Frollo killed his mom, and was stopped before killing him. And now, he spends his days a servant to an incredibly abusive Frollo. Like... oh my god, it’s difficult to watch this, tbh. It’s terrifying just how cruel Frollo is (and I’ll get more into this in a second).

Now - the film kinda plays on themes that every Disney film has up to this point. Take a main character who feels held back by their situation, and just wants to be free of it -- they go out on their own and experience life in a new way. It’s kinda fascinating, actually, the way Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and Pocahontas have the same structure, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it does make this one feel really formulaic in some respects. The thing really breaking the film out of it is the extreme dark and twisted thematic elements.

Anyway - so Quasi meets Esmerlda after he’s been publicly shamed - she helps him, and is kind. And so a friendship forms out of that. It’s kind of sweet, and the only real lightness in the film is the friendship that builds between these two, and adding in Phoebes, the military captain, rounding out their trio. They play up somewhat of a love triangle here - which again, seems super uncomfortable for a hot second, but then they throw it out the window, so they can all come together and push back against Frollo, and have a happily ever after.

So, let’s talk about Frollo for a second. Holy geez, this guy wins as most evil-ist of villains. Like Gaston, the treachery of this character lies in the fact that he embodies realistic human elements. However, this guy makes Gaston look like an outstanding citizen. This guy kills babies of a race he doesn’t like, just because he has the power to do it. Severely abuses Quasi the whole film. Lusts after Esmerlda (he gets a whole freaking song about this) but then feels guilty about that and decides he should kill her, and her entire race, instead. And he lights all of Paris on fire. Also, he has a nose like a penis. Unlike other Disney villains who have fun or charming aspects about their personality, Frollo has none. I’m pretty sure he wins for being the most evil of everyone. Eesh.

Alright, so technically, I think the film works pretty well. The animation is nice, and there are some gorgeous within and around the Cathedral.

The music is interesting - this film works almost as a true musical, where almost everything is being sung. That said, despite Menken being back at the helm, I think this is his weakest work to date. None of the songs really stick out that much - except for Hellfire, which is Frollo’s song, but only because it’s utterly terrifying. Also, interestingly, I think we’re now at the point where there are pop songs being written for the film -- the song Someday plays over the credits, but is not actually in the film.

The voice acting, I want to note, is really pretty good, too. Tom Hulce is Quasi, and while I don’t know him, I think he does really well with the material. Demi Moore is Esmeralda, and she does fine. Kevin Kline is Phoebus, and he’s a goddamn delight in the role -- I really wish there had been more of the character, because Kline is amazing as a voice actor, and I could really listen to him all day. And Tony Jay is Frollo. I don’t know him either, but he is pretty terrifying.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the three Gargoyles, who are Quasi’s only friends. (Voiced by Charles Kimbrough, Jason Alexander, and Mary Wickes). And.. these guys are kind of annoying to be honest. They have a moment or two of levity, but mostly, they make dumb jokes. But, they also sing a song about Quasi - getting the girl - and it kind of goes into an anachronistic territory, in a similar way that The Genie from Aladdin did. Only, this is the only time in the movie that happens, and it feels so goofy and out of place, it disrupts the tone entirely, and no I didn’t like it that much.

Final Thoughts: Kind of like Pinocchio, I respect this film, and think it works pretty decently for the story they were trying to do. However, it’s full of horrible and uncomfortable things, and not one that I really want to revisit any time soon.

#thoughts on disney

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nobodywritesthings · 5 years

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Some Thoughts On Fictional Character Deaths

I don’t like character deaths in fiction.

A lot of that is down to my personal taste. I get attached to fictional characters, so I generally don’t like seeing them disappear from the story forever, and death (in most stories) has a finality to it. I also mostly am drawn to fiction as an escape from depressing reality, and don’t feel the need to use it to depress myself further. So I have a certain amount of bias in this regard. However, I also think that character deaths are overused these days as a plot device, and frequently serve to detract from the story they’re used in. When they’re solely used for drama, character deaths, in my opinion, are a bad thing.

Before I can argue about why these types of character deaths make a story “worse”, I should establish what I consider as “good”. I’ll focus on plot and characters for this rant. There are many other facets that can make or break a story, but those are the most relevant.

So what makes a good plot? A plot is usually considered to be the series of connected events that form an overarching story. I don’t have the time or energy to go into what makes a plot good, but for the purposes of this rant, a decent plot will keep a reader turning the page to find out what happens next. Or watching the next episode of a show, or clicking the “next chapter” button on a fanfic. Generally, this is accomplished through dramatic tension, which can be raised through various methods. In adventure stories it’s usually in the form of danger to the characters, in romances it’s the romantic tension between two characters and the various ways the relationship is tested. In a mystery, the tension generally comes from the increasing number of clues and unexpected events that the reader expects to make sense of by the end. A good plot will resolve this tension eventually, which is why it works so well - most of the audience has some expectation or hope that eventually their questions will be answered, the couple will be definitively together or apart, or the adventurers will resolve the danger. Resolving tension leaves the reader/viewer with a feeling of satisfaction.

When it comes to characters, a good character is one who is developed. They’ve had time and effort put into creating the person they are and bringing them to life, maybe making a character arc for them, giving them personality, illustrating little details that range from how they look and talk to their goals and motivations to things they like and dislike. A good writer will often give characters a life of their own.

So why would character deaths be a bad thing? Killing off a character - especially a well-written one that an author spends so much time bringing to life - should definitely increase the sense of danger, which should increase the dramatic tension. Or it should resolve the tension that the audience was kept in, wondering if this character would remain alive or not. If there was no death in the story before, killing a character will leave the audience wondering who else might die before everything is over. The fact that character deaths are effective at this are why they’re so widely utilized.

This, however, is a waste of a character, and often lazy writing.

This is easy to explain in regard to barely-developed characters who are killed off. If I don’t care about the character, why should I care about their death? The characters I care about probably have plot armor anyway. People still joke about Red Shirts from Star Trek because it’s transparently obvious that they’re just dying to show off the latest danger. This is okay if you simply need to set up that the danger exists, but not in terms of setting up a level of dramatic tension that has one actually worried for the main characters. In the case of Star Trek, I found myself more interested in how the main cast would solve a given problem than worried about whether they’d survive. This is fine, but killing these side characters for drama is pointless.

A step up from that is the character who doesn’t have much time focused on them, but is transparently made Heartwarming and Too Good For This World in an attempt to make their death meaningful. It reeks of emotional manipulation, and while it can work, it also gives the audience reason to believe that the less-heartwarming characters are still safe. It’s also the authorial equivalent of a villain kicking a puppy to show that they’re evil - it’s effective, but also a dick move and there are so many better ways to get the point across than making a character just to kill them. The best uses of this type of death I’ve seen tend to involve the death become a driving motivation for other characters, and even then it can be written poorly, especially if the characters met the Good Sweet Cannon Fodder for all of two seconds before the death. This also applies to characters who are made just interesting enough for the audience to be unhappy when they die.

Finally, we meet the character who was developed and had effort put in. First of all, by the time that much work has been put into a character, it’s a shame to waste all that development on a death if it’s only done for drama. Second, whatever dramatic tension that has been built using that character, it’s now at a dead end. Will they survive? Nope. Will they get into that relationship with another character? Nah. Will they accomplish their goal? That’s a negative. Other characters can try to continue their work in the name of the character that died, but it’ll almost always be less effective than leaving the character alive.

There’s also the small problem that it’s generic. A lot of the time, a lot more tension can be found when the author sits down and tries to find specific things that would make the characters truly suffer. There are plenty of examples both in the real and fictional worlds of people who would rather die than experience something - like failing to achieve their goal, or facing a certain type of fear, or watch their friends and family tortured in front of them. So finding what that is for one’s characters, and then making the danger personal to them, tends to be more effective at creating dramatic tension than simply killing someone to show that there’s danger. It also supports character development, because it shows how characters respond to facing their worst fears. In general, I’ve found that watching characters suffer, while keeping the thread of hope alive that they’ll be okay, is far more likely to keep me hooked on a story and caught in the tension than if they’re simply killed off. Not that personal experience constitutes true evidence, but the fact that one continues to question rather than having a final end to a character and anything attached to them supports the concept.

So in the end, the reason I consider it “cheap” to kill off a well-developed character for the sake of drama is that there are almost always options that can take advantage of who the characters are and how they work that are more interesting. There are, of course, plenty of reasons to kill characters that aren’t simply for drama; but I feel that I’ve seen way too many instances in popular fiction of characters dying for the sole purpose of making the danger feel real and/or making the protagonists and the audience Feel Things About It. I’m tired of this being used as an easy cop out to evoke a reaction and hence make a story “feel” more interesting and gritty and realistic. If the death serves a plot-or-theme-driving purpose? That’s one thing. But I would love to see more stories that keep characters alive unexpectedly than more stories that kill characters because it’s easy and effective.

#random rant

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the2020romanceproject · 5 years

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Review: The Wedding Date

(Or: Maybe I should only read the first half of romance novels from now on?)

Book two of my year of romance was Jasmine Guillory’s The Wedding Date! I was excited about this one, since I had actually heard of it before I started reading romance, and also it has fake dating which is always gold. And I did enjoy it...up to a point. More on that below. :)

First, a summary: Alexa is chief of staff to the mayor of Berkeley. Drew is a pediatric surgeon in L.A. They get stuck in an elevator together when Drew is in San Francisco for his ex-girlfriend’s wedding to his med school classmate. Drew was supposed to have a date for the wedding, but she cancelled, and on a whim he asks Alexa to go with him instead as his pretend new girlfriend. She says yes, and they have a great time at the wedding and fall in bed afterward and have great sex. Drew secretly changes his flight to leave later in the day on Sunday, and they spend the day together. They’re both hesitant because they know the other person isn’t looking for anything real here—Alexa in particular knows Drew doesn’t do relationships—but they keep reaching out to each other, and Alexa goes down to L.A. to stay with Drew the next weekend. There’s a brief blip where she texts him to ask if he’s sleeping with other people and he makes a joke instead of answering seriously and she cancels their next weekend together; then he runs into her (very conveniently) when he’s back in SF for a conference and they fall into bed again. Then there’s a more serious blip where she meets a bunch of his exes who let it slip that he broke up with each of them around the two-month mark when it seemed to be going really well. Alexa gets upset, refuses to let Drew say anything about his intentions because she doesn’t want to be hurt, and sneaks out of his apartment in the middle of the night to fly home early. Drew realizes how much she means to him and flies up to L.A. to support her at a hearing for the at-risk-youth arts initiative she’s pushing for, and the two of them happily reconcile (and the initiative passes). He shows her the job offer he got from his mentor at a San Francisco hospital, and she tells him yes, she wants him to move here. There’s an epilogue a year later where he takes her back to the elevator where they met and proposes.

I feel like I spent my last review talking entirely about why the book fell apart in the middle for me. This book also fell apart in the middle, but I’m going to start with some things I liked/noted about it, so as to not spend ALL my time complaining about shortcomings. :)

Things I really liked:

Chemistry. Alexa and Drew are both super charming. Their back-and-forth was really enjoyable to read. It was a big part of what got me into the book: I wanted to see these two charming people grow to like each other. All the thing where they’re at the rehearsal dinner and wedding and enjoy touching each other were really nice to read.

Tropes. This one had such good tropes! Stuck in an elevator together! Fake dating! Anything with plausible deniability, where they’re acting like they really like each other but each one thinks it might not denote real interest, is just the most fun. This one gave up the plausible deniability aspect way sooner than I would have expected, but still: great tropes.

Race. Alexa is black and Drew is white. I am also white, so my perspective here is not informed by personal experience, but I really liked how this was handled. Alexa does experience some microaggressions and outright racism—not from Drew—in ways that felt realistic to me. Drew doesn’t try to explain away any of the racism, which made him seem like a good potential partner to her. There was also a thing where he failed to understand a thing in her past that was impacted by race, and when she explained it he listened and accepted his ignorance. She was still concerned that he’d like her less for having made him aware of his privilege, which felt like a very sad and real fear. Overall, it felt like racial dynamics were allowed to come into the text in nuanced and organic ways that kept Alexa from being a token POC. (Jasmine Guillory is a POC herself, so I’m not surprised that this is handled well, and there are probably other things about it that I as a white person didn’t even pick up.)

Body type. Alexa is curvy! She’s embarrassed about it! But Drew loves it! As someone who fills out the top of a cocktail dress pretty well myself, I really appreciated both sides of this: the realistic body issues from someone raised in a society that valorizes thinness, and the way the text kept affirming Drew’s attraction to her. There’s a racial component to this as well—lots of skinny blond girls in this book—but it was something I was able to identify with even from my different societal context.

Things I noted/was surprised by:

How soon they had sex. At some point I’ll stop being surprised by this in romance novels. I’ve read a lot of fake dating stories, and written some, and I would have expected the charade to go on a lot longer before they had actual sex that couldn’t at all be explained away by the fake dating scenario. The purported fakeness of it is the fun part! They both think the other one isn’t interested for real, while their own feelings continue to grow! Why would you cut that part short?? As soon as they kissed and admitted to each other that they wanted it for real, the tension dropped from a ten to about a two. This book got a decent amount of mileage out of that lower level of tension—more on that below—but it’s so surprising to me that it didn’t keep the much more interesting and trope-y tension going longer.

Consent and power dynamics. This book was super good about consent: Drew made sure to check in about what Alexa wanted, and it was played for sexual intensity, where he clearly got a kick out of hearing her say it. But it was very, very one-sided. There was no implication that Alexa needed to check in with Drew on what he wanted. This wasn’t a surprise, exactly, but it did stand out to me, since I don’t read a lot of het (and honestly this is a big part of why—I don’t want to encounter gendered power dynamics in my leisure reading). Consent felt like a thing the woman had to give the man. I’m not saying this is a problem, necessarily; just something I noticed.

Sex scenes. The sex scenes almost faded to black but not quite. Maybe they faded to gray? I felt like I knew pretty much what sex act they were doing and when, but they weren’t described in any real detail. It was an interesting compromise, like the book was trying to give us a clear sense of their sexual relationship without any real titillation. I wonder if this is a genre thing—I’m not sure this book was published strictly as romance—or if it’s just Guillory’s style.

Romcom careers. They’re chief of staff to the mayor of Berkeley and a pediatric surgeon. Those have GOT to be two squares on the romcom career bingo card. I’m teasing a little, but I think this kind of character background serves an important role: we have to know that they’re accomplished, valuable people, so that when they feel rejected or insecure we can revel in it—look, they feel like I once felt! But it’s unjustified and they’ll end up happy!—instead of actually questioning the characters’ worth. Fanfiction usually gets over this hurdle by writing about characters the readers already know and respect and love, or, in the case of RPF, writing about people who are for-real successful and famous. Romance novels have to introduce us to brand-new characters, and one of the easiest ways to make us feel sure that these characters are worthy of our respect and of the other character’s love is to give them prestigious and intellectually or creatively rigorous careers. I’ll be interested to see how many other instances of this I run across.

Two points of view. It strikes again! Do all romance novels include both points of view? I don’t hate it, necessarily—but it does decrease the overall tension. You don’t get caught up in one character’s desires as strongly when you’re seeing both POVs.

Immediate attraction. Another thing I should probably stop being surprised by. Both Alexa and Drew are very physically into each other as soon as they meet; he has trouble not looking at her breasts, and there are so many narrative references to her wanting his touch, wanting to move closer to him, etc. To be fair, I think I’m pretty far toward the “not attracted to complete strangers” side of the spectrum, so I might not be the best judge of this, but it did feel a little over the top. I suspect this was an attempt to make us really want these two to be together. I think it was trying too hard—a more genuine reserve would have been more compelling to me, where they like each other but don’t immediately want to jump each other. Also, they’re going to a wedding together as fake dates! You don’t have to try that hard to make us interested!

Food as comfort. This was such a strong recurring thread in this novel. Alexa has a sweet tooth, and Drew is always getting her doughnuts; they get a lot of very satisfying takeout. It gelled for me with the thing where a lot of the satisfaction in the novel came from the comfort of “oh, this person is touching me; oh, they like me back.” Comfort instead of angst.

Subplots. One of my questions in approaching this genre was whether romance novels needed to be more novel-like than fic—i.e. whether they needed to engage with a plot beyond the romance. This does have a very slight B plot (Alexa’s youth initiative, which is connected to her difficult relationship with her sister) but it’s VERY slight. The book has an even less prominent subplot about one of Drew’s patients who develops cancer. Alexa’s subplot resolves, whereas Drew’s is only backdrop. Drew’s in particular is used the way I’d use a subplot in fic: it’s included to provide an excuse for scenes with or about Alexa, or to affect Drew’s mood in ways that reflect or influence the romance plot. It serves the romance instead of being an independent plot in its own right.

Okay, so those are my observations. Time to dig into the thing where this book lost me in the middle—much like the last book I reviewed, but for entirely different reasons.

I’ve already talked about the drastic drop-off in tension after they slept together. That actually was not what lost me this time. This novel managed to build enough of a rapport between the two characters that I was invested in their relationship becoming real. To be clear, I would have preferred that the fake dating trope go on longer and create opportunities for actual longing. But this novel wasn’t so much about longing; it was about that delightful feeling when you like someone and you reach out tentatively and they meet you in the middle. It was the very, very gentle tension of, “Maybe we could hang out today?” “Sure!” over and over, as a relationship builds. It was fluff-adjacent tension. Super enjoyable, the way a warm bath is enjoyable. I wasn’t dying to get to the end or anything, but it was nice.

I did wonder, about halfway through, how the heck this book could possibly keep going like that. And it turned out it couldn’t. That was when it introduced: the Misunderstanding Plot.

Don’t get me wrong. I love a good misunderstanding plot. But they are hard to do well. They work best when they feel unforced and genuine, and don’t make either of the characters carry the idiot ball. Like, say, if Drew and Alexa hadn’t had enthusiastic sex where they talked about how much they wanted each other, and they were still under the impression that it was a fake relationship, it would be very easy to have the other character accidentally confirm that and drive a wedge between the two of them. Or if one of them was starting to think it WAS real, and then they overheard the other person confessing to someone else that it was totally fake. (Don’t mind me; just thinking about ways I might write it.)

The problem with this one was that they were basically just dating at this point, so in order for drama to arise, the characters had to act badly in ways that felt forced and off-putting. They’d known each other for a week and a half; things had been happy and a little giddy and chill between them so far. Then Alexa texts in the middle of the workday to ask if Drew is sleeping with anyone else. (Because that is the perfect way to initiate an important relationship conversation, obviously.) He makes a joke, because he is clearly also very good at this, and they don’t speak to each other for a week and a half.

Guess which one of them this makes me like more? That’s right! Neither!!

Look. I like characters who are stupid about their own feelings and blind to other people’s. But I also like characters who, when they know about the other person’s feelings, are very, very considerate of them. Drew was not—and Alexa compounded the problem by being confrontational with the question and then abruptly pulling back as soon as she didn’t get the magical easy answer. In short, it made me think that they were bad for each other.

They recover from the texting thing when they just so happen to run into each other (I mean, I can’t throw stones, I’ll buy the coincidence) and are happy to see each other, and apologize, and everything’s fine. But by this point the novel had lost me. I had been enjoying the happy dance of “Does s/he like me? Ooh, s/he does!” but only so long as it lasted. They didn’t have a strong enough core after a week and a half to get through the badness of those texts. They were happy again, but I wasn’t invested. I was mostly reading so I could write this review.

Then, fascinatingly, the book won me back.

It was a very specific passage that did it. On page 190 of the paperback, Alexa talks in the narration about how she wouldn’t admit this to anyone other than herself, but ever since that first weekend with Drew, she’d imagined him in bed with her every night as she fell asleep. And I was sold. I mean, it was still very gentle tension. But! A thing the character wanted that she wasn’t getting! I could be into this again!

And then...well, this is already super long, so I won’t go into all the details of the misunderstanding that ended the book. It had a lot in common with the text message fiasco: Alexa felt insecure, got upset that Drew might not be into her, and refused to engage with him about whether that was true. (Okay, it was actually more egregious than the texts, in that she wouldn’t let him speak.) Her getting upset made sense, but her refusing to let him speak when he was clearly trying to felt SO forced.

The funny thing is, there was actually a seed of potential real conflict there: Drew hadn’t really admitted to himself that he wanted a long-term thing with her. He could have told her that. He could have done anything, really, to indicate that and create a real conflict. (Also tricky to handle without him coming off as not actually interested—but doable, I think.) As it was, he didn’t call her his girlfriend at a party—which, it had been like a month, and they hadn’t discussed it privately, so it’s totally appropriate not to throw the term around in public yet!—and...that’s it. Everything else was just her fears, and the very cowardly way she handled them. I guess that’s relatable? But it felt so engineered. It didn’t so much make me dislike her as make me annoyed with the text for twisting her response so that they couldn’t have the very short conversation that would have cleared everything up.

In fairness to Guillory, a friend who’s read the whole series tells me she does better with misunderstanding plots later. But I’m really, really excited to read a romance plot that doesn’t lose me halfway through.

Next up is Red, White, and Royal Blue. I’ve been told this was basically written for me, so I’m hopeful. Fingers crossed it sticks the landing!

#romance novels #reviews #jasmine guillory #the wedding date #romance meta #fanfiction meta

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kyosohmastan · 5 years

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Hajime and the Curse (Part 1)

[I said I was going to write this a little while ago and post it the same day but, well, that didn’t happen. But here it finally is. This is the first part in what I think is going to be a three part short fic about Hajime finding out about the zodiac curse. I really wanted to write something where Hajime interacts with Kyo and Tohru because I’d think it’d be so sweet to see them as parents.

I haven’t written fanfiction in literally YEARS so I hope this is decent.]

The Sohma estate is filled with too many mysteries to uncover, if I ever do. It seems like every corner I turn, there are adults, usually on the older side of the spectrum who look at me as if I’m something inhuman. It’s been like this every time we visit the main house and right now, we have returned for New Years. Apparently, it’s always been a big holiday for the family.

Dad fights us on going every year and I can never figure out why. He has to have bad memories. Every time we walk to Grandpa Kazuma’s dojo, he looks as if he dreads being here. It’s particularly when we pass a small house big enough to fit only one room in the back of the compound where he gets really uncomfortable. His shoulders tense and he avoids looking at it like just gazing at it will curse him with some sort of plague.

I’ll admit that it looks incredibly dreary. It has only one window and the inside looks pitch dark. I couldn’t find any sources of light in there. I don’t know its purpose or what such a small, desolate looking house is doing on the Sohma’s land full of hundreds of exquisite buildings. It stands out in the worst way.

I pass it again as I make my way to the dojo to meet up with Mutsuki at the main house. Even I can’t bring myself to look at it anymore. The place seems almost haunted, which has me curious on what exactly went on in there.

Mutsuki hops down the steps to the main house. “What took you so long, slow-poke?”

I stop at the bottom of the stairs, slipping my hands into the heavy material of my winter coat. “Just observing the beauty that is the estate.”

“It’s more melancholy than beautiful this time of year,” he says and opens the front door of the house. “Never mind that, though. You have to see how the banquet room looks. It’s all made up for the celebration tomorrow.” He goes down the hallway, passing a few maids along the way who are carrying bouquets of flowers into the banquet room. He has way more excitement over this than I do, but Mutsuki gets ecstatic over everything.

“Oh, Hajime, hi,” Shi-Chan says as he comes out of the banquet room. “I’m so glad you’re here. Could you help bring in the flowers? We’re short on maids right now and could use an extra hand.”

“Sure,” I say, then follow one of the maids to the truck in the front of the house that carried the flowers. The back of the vehicle is piled with them. Apparently, the head of the family has a thing for flowers so it’s not like it’s a surprise.

I reach into the trunk and pull out a bouquet of baby’s breath, dragging the vase out.

“Kyo?” says someone behind me. I’ve grown used to people mistaking me for my dad, so I react right away and turn around, facing someone I’ve never seen before, but he obviously knows my dad.

I set the pot down on the ground, it being too heavy to hold for too long. “I’m sorry, Kyo’s my father. I’m Hajime. Do you know him?” I ask. Now that I get a good look at him, he looks like my dad. They have the same eyes and they look like mine as well. He has to be a Sohma, but there’s got to be more to it than that. Maybe he’s a close relative.

“You’re his son?” He says it as if the very thought was incomprehensible. He flicks away his cigarette and it sinks into the wet snow beside my feet. “I wasn’t aware he had children.”

My bad vibe senses get triggered. Everything about this guy reeks of something toxic. It’s the way he said that with such disdain that makes it seem like him having a kid is something to look down upon. “May I ask who you are?”

“I’m Kyo’s father. How strange that we haven’t bumped into each other. You live on the estate?”

Oh, shit. I’d heard about him from Dad and I never intended to ever see him. From what I gathered, this guy was horrible to him, verbally abusing him for reasons my dad won’t tell me. But whatever the reasons, how he treated him was inexcusable and the very idea of him abusing my father made me hate the guy without ever meeting him.

I move away from the truck to let the maids get to the vases. “No, I’m just visiting for New Year’s. But I never had any intentions of running into you.” I try to keep myself as neutral as I can, but quickly fail. I can’t bring myself to show this guy any respect, even though Mom says it’s important to respect your elders.

“Well, that isn’t very nice. Surely not something you would say to your grandfather,” he says, ending his statement with a smirk.

My blood boils within seconds. “I already have a grandfather.”

“You mean Kazuma? You know, he only took your father in for the paycheck,” he says.

Without hesitation, I turn and pick the pot back up, done with this guy and this conversation. “I know that’s a lie.”

“I’m only being realistic. Kazuma only adopted him because he pitied the monster,” he says. There it was again; the monster. The other day, a woman I ran into at the back of the main house called me the same thing. I still don’t know what it means.

“You could be one too. You should get that checked out.” He snickers and the sound seems closer. I turn and find him standing over me.

My shoulders tense, but I refuse to make myself seem vulnerable. “I...don’t know what you’re talking. But my dad isn’t a monster, whatever you say.” I push past him, hauling the pot in my arm. “I’ve heard plenty about you. You abused my dad and my grandmother. That’s why I never wanted anything to do with you. So in that case, I’ll be going.” My foot hits the bottom step of the porch of the main house. I have to get out of here. I shouldn’t have even spoken a word to him. Mom and Dad wouldn’t have wanted me to and now it was too late.

“Well, that hurts,” he grumbles, leaning against the truck. “So you don’t know about the curse then?”

I can’t comprehend what he means, but it has to have something to do with all these questions I’ve been having. It has to be the thing this family is trying to hide.

I long to ask him more. This could be my chance to finally know what the hell was blatantly being kept a secret to me. I turn back to him, contemplating once again whether or not to ask him about it, but my lips seal tight and my eyes widen as I watch my dad come toward us.

He takes one look at his father and his eyes narrow, almost becoming cat-like. “What are you doing here?” He asks not so nicely.

I hardly ever hear him sound like that. His voice was deep and stern like he was trying to feel superior to his father who wasn’t really his father at all. Not like Grandpa Kazuma was to him.

The man backed away from the truck and my dad slowly. “I was just passing by and saying hello to my grandson.”

“He’s not your grandson,” Dad says, leveling his tone of voice unlike earlier. “I think it’s time you leave.”

The man chuckles and it doesn’t sound at all pleasant. “I was already leaving. Have a good New Year’s.” He turns to leave, but stops mid step and looks over his shoulder at Dad. “I’ll leave you with this question, Kyo. What made you think you had the right to bring any offspring of yours into this world?”

My heart sinks to my stomach all at once. That was the wrong thing to say to both me and Dad. I clutch the pot harder and Dad balls his fist. Even from a few feet away, I can spot the rapid tick in his jaw.

“Leave,” my dad says in nearly a whisper.

The man shrugs and leaves, his question going unanswered. But I think that was his intention.

I let out a breath I’d been holding. “Dad, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything-” He was in front of me in a flash before I could finish my thought.

He touches my cheek and examines my face. “He didn’t hurt you, right?”

I shake my head. “No. No, I’m fine. We just talked,” I say, biting my lip.

“What did he say to you?”

I put the pot down once again. These flowers are never going to make it into the house at this point. “He said I should check to make sure that I’m not a monster.”

Dad flinched then rose up from his position on the ground. “Don’t listen to him.”

“But what does that mean? There was a woman who called me the same thing. Something’s being kept from me.” I try not to sound angry, but my tone is getting harsher. This is so frustrating. I’m sick of continuously wondering what is going on, what is being kept from me. I’m no longer suspicious. I know there’s something this family is trying to hide. “Please, dad. If there’s something going on that affects me, please tell me. I can’t stand being this confused anymore.”

My dad’s eyes finally soften, his cat-like pupils fading away. He sighs and picks up the pot. “You’re old enough to know now. Mom and I planned to tell you eventually.” He makes his way up the steps and I follow.

“You’re finally going to tell me? You promise?” I ask. But Dad wouldn’t ever lie.

“Promise,” he says. He uses his free hand to ruffle my hair. “When we get back home, Mom and I will tell you.”

Relief floods over me like a strong ripple in the water. After all these years, I’d get my answers. “Thank you.” We enter the house and I hold the door open for him. “So what brings you to the main house?”

“I was curious to see how the preparation for the banquet was going,” he says. “I’d be more excited, but I’m not fond of New Year’s this year.”

I look up at him just slightly. He was only about five inches taller than me. “Why not?”

He grimaces and turns his gaze away from mine. “Because it’s the year of the rat.”

[Hope you liked it! I’ll continue with part 2 if you would like to see it. Thank you for reading. 💓]

#FRUITS BASKET SPOILER #fruits basket fanfic #fruits basket fanfiction #fruits basket headcanon #fruits basket #kyo sohma #tohru honda #Hajime Sohma #fruits basket another #furuba #fruba #fanfiction #fruits basket 2019

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