#as a fellow writer it's the least i can do!

[fangirl-dot-com]

🪡The Obvious String

*part of the reverse trope series*

Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?

*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 

Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 

Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 

So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 

And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)

His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 

“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 

Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 

Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 

The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 

Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 

Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 

The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 

“We?” 

Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 

When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 

His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 

Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 

Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 

The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 

“And why are the two of you here?” 

Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 

“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 

“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”

Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 

“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 

Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 

“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 

“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”

A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 

Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 

The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 

The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 

All he got was a glare back. 

“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 

Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 

“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 

It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 

“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 

“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 

The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 

Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 

The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 

“But George.” 

Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 

“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 

The group of four winced at the memory. 

Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 

Lewis looked a bit pale. 

“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 

Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 

Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  

Lando ran a hand down his face. 

“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 

George cocked his head. 

“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 

Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 

George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 

Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 

A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 

When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 

“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”

Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 

Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 

“Yes! Do you?” 

The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 

“No.” 

The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 

“Why would you do that!” 

Now Lewis was the one whining. 

“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 

The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 

“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 

“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 

All eyes landed on Oscar. 

The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 

Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  

An audible gulp was heard. 

Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”

Everyone looked a little lost. 

“Aha!” 

The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 

“What!” 

He held his phone up with a contact showing. 

“We call Seb.” 

“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 

For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 

“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 

A sigh was heard through the speaker. 

“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 

Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 

“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 

Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 

Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 

Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 

“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 

Their silence had answered for them. 

Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 

“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 

“Hey!” 

It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 

“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 

“What!” Pierre yelled. 

“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 

“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 

“Ask them what?” 

The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 

“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 

Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 

He took a sip of his Red Bull. 

Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 

“Hey!” 

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 

“Thank you Charles.” 

The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 

“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 

The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 

Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 

“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 

The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 

Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 

“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 

Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 

“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 

Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 

“Thank you schatje.” 

This time, a whine came from you. 

“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 

Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 

“WHAT?” 

You turned back to the group. 

“Are you all fine?” 

Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 

The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 

Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”

Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 

Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 

Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 

“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 

It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 

A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 

Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 

“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 

You nodded. “Yes.” 

Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 

The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 

“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 

Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”

A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 

“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 

Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 

Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 

The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 

“You won’t tell anyone right?” 

Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 

Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 

Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 

Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 

Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 

Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 

“Then . . . who knows?” 

Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 

“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 

You pulled out his fingers and counted.  

“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 

Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 

Max smirked. 

“Oh, and Seb.” 

There was silence amongst the group. 

“Oh he is so dead.” 

“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 

“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 

“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 

“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 

“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 

“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 

You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 

You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 

Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 

“Nah.” 

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[starbuck]

if anyone was wondering, i’m currently reading published RPF about F. Scott Fitzgerald for *checks notes* my job, so that’s how my life is going.

[ghostoffuturespast]

Being a writer is weird.

[sagesolsticewrites]

Hi! I’d like to request a John “Bucky” Egan fic where he tries several times to flirt with the reader, but the reader is super oblivious about it and just thinks he’s being nice. It becomes something everyone on base talks about and gets invested in. Maybe other people set up a scheme to get them together or make the reader realize how he feels. Idk, just something funny and cute like that ig 😁

Thank you so much for requesting, Nonnie, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! I loved getting to write for our best boy Bucky 🥰 Shoutout to @blurredcolour’s Trust fic (an absolute masterpiece, check it out y’all!) for helping with the writers block on this one 😅 (Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post 😊)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Oblivious

“There’s my favorite nurse!”

You rolled your eyes at the phrase that announced John “Bucky” Egan’s every visit to sickbay.

“Hello, Major,” you said, turning to greet him with a mock-exasperated smile.

Bucky clutched a hand to his heart as if wounded, a hurt expression on his face. “How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Bucky, sweetheart?”

“At least a few more times, Major,” you reply, unable to hide a smile at the usual volley of friendly banter.

Major John Egan had been unusually friendly to you since the first moment he’d sauntered in to introduce himself to the medical staff as Air Exec. Your colleagues had blushed afterward and playfully insisted that he had paid you more attention than the others, but you just laughed and shook your head, insisting that he was just being nice.

This visit was simply another instance of Bucky being friendly to you; well, that and Harry Crosby’s airsickness had gotten the better of him again and he was checking up on the navigator.

You stepped aside as Bucky approached Harry’s cot, ready to update him on the goings-on since the last mission had returned.

He threw you a kind smile before perching on the stool next to Harry.

“How’s my girl treatin’ you, Crosby?”

Harry happily told him how the base had gotten a new shipment of airsickness pills and you had slipped him a spare box for his own personal use, and Bucky’s smile grew wider and wider.

You were glad to see how happy he was at the news that his friend was feeling better, and you quietly excused yourself to tend to the other patients.

Bucky sighed as you walked away.

“She still hasn’t picked up on it, huh?”

“No, Croz, she hasn’t.” sighed Bucky, “She thinks I’m just bein’… nice or friendly or something. Which I am!” He added hurriedly, “But I just…I like her so much. I wish she’d notice.”

“She will, buddy,” Harry replied, with a comforting pat on his friend’s hand, “She will.”

Bucky headed out after a few more minutes of conversation, giving you a wink and a smile as he walked past your station.

“Bucky visited again, huh?” Rebecca, one of your fellow nurses, sidled up next to you with a teasing grin.

“Yes, Major Egan came by to visit Lieutenant Crosby,” you replied, putting emphasis on their ranks.

“You’re sure that’s all he was here for? Somehow he never shows up here without an excuse to see you…”

“He’s just being nice, Becca,” you insisted, “You know how these soldier boys are.”

“But he’s always—”

“Becca,” you cut her off as gently as you can, “I really don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“Alright, alright,” she held her hands up in surrender, “Bucky is an off-limits topic, gotcha.”

The conversation turned to the current hot gossip, and you idly chimed in when it seemed appropriate, losing yourself in your routine tasks.

Rebecca broke off to check on Harry again, narrowing her eyes as she noticed Harry watching you.

“Something Nurse L/N can help you with, Crosby?”

He jumped, gaze darting to Rebecca as she approached.

“No ma’am, I just…”

He scrambled to think of some excuse, but all he could come up with was: “I’m trying to think of some way to get Y/N to notice Bucky!”

Rebecca blinked in surprise, then plopped down onto the stool next to his bed, leaning in conspiratorially.

“Oh thank goodness it’s not just me! He’s been at it for months but the poor girl’s just so oblivious…”

“I keep telling him to just talk to her like a normal person, but he insists on dancing around it!” Harry instantly agreed, glad to have someone besides Jean to talk to about this. “He’s been so distracted lately. If he doesn’t do something soon, I’m worried it might start to affect his flying.”

Rebecca pressed her lips into a thin line, twisting a strand of hair worriedly.

After a few moments of quiet, she spoke up again, green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I’ve got an idea.”

———

“Hey Bucky,” Harry said at breakfast the next morning, “I’m gonna pop down to the infirmary to visit Winks, wanna come with?”

Bucky quickly agreed— he’d been meaning to check on Winks yesterday as well as Croz, but got caught up in… well, you.

As they entered, Bucky made a beeline for Winks while Harry caught Rebecca’s eye and gave a subtle nod, which she returned, signaling her part of the plan was complete.

She had removed the step stool you always used from one of the supply closets, now hidden under one of the cots nearby. When you weren’t able to reach something on one of the higher shelves, well…

Good thing Bucky was so tall.

“Y/N, would you mind grabbing some more bandages for me? My station’s running low.”

“Sure thing, Becca!” You called, stepping away from your current station to check the supply closet.

“Becca…” your confused voice called from the closet, “Do you know where the stepstool went?”

“It’s not there?” She called back, sounding equally confused. “Let’s see, um…”

She scanned the room, putting on a good show of looking for someone who could help.

“Oh, Bucky! Would you mind helping Nurse L/N grab something from the supply closet for me?”

“No problem, Becca,” came his reply, accompanied with his trademark winning smile as he nodded to Winks and made his way over to the supply closet.

It was much smaller than he’d anticipated, and barely half a foot was all that separated you as he asked, “Alright, what do ya need, sweethea—”

The pet name was cut off by the sound of the supply closet door closing.

And locking.

You lunged for the handle as Bucky reached up to turn on the single lightbulb, both of you calling out in confusion.

“Becca! What?”

“C’mon, guys, this isn’t funny!”

Harry’s voice came through the door, clear and determined.

“Just tell her how you feel, Bucky! Your tactic clearly isn’t working!”

“I— what?” You turned to Bucky, hoping he knew what in the world they were talking about.

Bucky hesitated, but seeing as it seemed he had no choice…

“Well this isn’t… exactly how I wanted to do it, but…” He took a deep breath, twisting his fingers together in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety, “I really like you, doll. I’ve liked you since I first laid eyes on you. And I’ve tried every way I know how to tell you, but nothin’ worked, so…” He gestured around at the supply closet, “I guess it came to this? Which wasn’t my idea, by the way. Just for the record. I would never…”

His voice faltered, and you realized just how close you were to him. You didn’t remember moving forward. You were just suddenly there, so close the two of you were almost breathing each other’s air.

“You… you like me?”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Doll, you think I call every pretty girl workin’ here my favorite nurse?”

You flushed at the compliment.

“I thought you were just being nice, I didn’t…”

“I mean, I was bein’ nice,” He said with a shrug, grinning, “Just not quite in the way you were thinking.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked down to your mouth, and being this close to you, he couldn’t hide the bob of his throat as he swallowed nervously.

“I’d, uh. I’d really like to kiss you right now, if that’s alright with you, sweetheart.”

You nodded slowly, “I think I’d really like that, Major Egan.”

“It’s Bucky, sweetheart,” he murmured softly as he leaned in, capturing your lips.

You may or may not have spent more than a few lonely nights in your bunk imagining what it would be like to kiss Major John Egan.

Your imaginings were nothing compared to reality.

This was magic unlike anything you could have dreamed.

Your arms wound around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You toyed with the dark curls at the nape of his neck as he slanted his mouth against yours, deepening the kiss. Needing to be closer, you tried to step towards him, but merely succeeded in pressing him back against the shelves.

Ordinarily you would apologize, but something like a thrill ran up your spine when you felt him grin into the kiss as his back hit the shelves, knocking rolls of bandages and boxes of gauze onto the floor.

His right hand moved to cup your cheek, keeping your lips connected as his other hand splayed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer as you arched into him.

You could still feel him grinning as he murmured against your lips, “Knew you were feisty under that good girl act.”

“Bucky,” you whined softly as he pulled away from you, chest heaving.

“Oh, now she uses my name,” he teased breathlessly, bumping his nose playfully against yours.

The two of you flinched as sunlight spilled into the dim closet, a harsh change from the dingy yellow lightbulb you had become accustomed to.

Harry and Rebecca stood in the doorway, wearing twin smug grins.

“Looks like our work here is done,” Becca said, shooting you a wink as she bid farewell to Harry with a two-fingered salute, “Pleasure working with you, Lieutenant Crosby.”

“Same to you, Nurse Carter,” Harry replied, and he turned back to the two of you, a genuine smile on his face.

“About time, Bucky.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky waved off his friend’s I told you so, “You gonna congratulate me or what?”

“Congratulations,” came Harry’s mock-put-out reply, accompanied by a genuinely congratulatory clap on his arm. “You got a good one. And it only took months of unsuccessful flirting—”

“Hey, I got her in the end, didn’t I?” He squeezed you closer, grinning down at you.

Your lipstick was all over his mouth, and you’re sure the Victory Red on your own lips was in no better shape.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care, however, as he pulled you in for a tender kiss.

Which you broke for a moment to point out, “He isn’t wrong, you know, it was months of unsuccessful—”

Your teasing was promptly cut off with a “shush” mumbled against your lips as Bucky silenced you with a kiss.

[bacchicly]

A few imperfect thoughts about writing fat characters respectfully

By me :

A short (5'2"), fat (approx 300 pounds), middle aged (turning 42 thank god), married to not a fat man, mother of a pre-teen, white, CIS, Anglo, Canadian, upper-middle class woman who writes fic (including smut) about a character who is fat by TV and Hollywood standards (Penelope Garcia)

Note: fat hate or debates about whether being fat is healthy or not will not be tolerated on this post. That is not what this post is about. This is about giving some insight into what writers may want to consider when trying to respectfully include more fat characters in their work and generally moving towards writing doing less harm to fat people.

This post started with me wanting to respond to someone honnestly asking "how do I write good descriptions of fat people" because they wanted to write more fat characters and write them authentically (and I assume in a way that would be respectful to fat people) which is an awesome! ...Or maybe it started a few months ago when a writer friend asked about whether a fat character in a fic borrowing a shirt or hoody from her fit boyfriend made sense. ...Or maybe it started way back when I started writing my first fan fic featuring Penelope Garcia partly in response to being irritated about how so many writers wrote her as a young woman and were often silent on her size or spent a lot of time on her insecurities about her body... anyhoo that's where I come from... doesn't make me an expert except maybe on my own unique experience with a fat body...rather more a fellow muddler / fat character writer enthusiast.

THE BASICS

This first part is a quick list of basics you'll read in other posts about writing characters in general - but we'd better get them out of the way because they apply:

Every character is unique and they way they act and think and feel tends to be a product of some mix of what they look like, how their body works or doesn't, how their brain works and doesn't, their "personality", what they were taught, their unique experiences, and the situation/society they are currently in. There are patterns (which is why we get tropes) but the fun thing is that small things can make big differences. So to write an authentic character, it helps to have a fairly clear sense of at least some of those elements and do some imagining about how all of that would funnel into the moment your writing.

The amount to which you describe character bodies and the style which you use to describe them tends to depend on genre, what the heck is going on in your story, the pov you're writing from, the reason you're writing etc. So their are no hard or fast rules. There may be norms for certain styles of fiction, but then it's up to you to decide if it's stronger for you to lean into those norms or to write "against" them at a particular moment.

In order to be more respectful and less harmful to fat people (especially if you see value in actively challenging the anti-fat status quo), you may have to change how you describe all bodies in your work, as well the attitudes both fat people and non fat people have about bodies in general.

Now that that's out of the way... let's get specifically to my thoughts on writing fat characters. I'm going to divide this part into tips for DESCRIBING FAT BODIES, FAT BODIES IN SPACE, and THINKING AND FEELING IN A FAT BODY.

TIPS FOR DESCRIBING FAT (OR OTHER) BODIES

I would say that both consistency and diversity across the work is important, by this I mean :

Consistently describe bodies in about the same amount of detail across your work for the same type of character regardless of body type. So protagonists should get about the same depth and breath of body descriptions as each other regardless of body type. Same goes for vilalns, supporting characters etc. Sometimes people are mute about the look and shape of "strait sized" character bodies (because what's to describe - they are just "normal") but then spend a bunch of time on "other sized" bodies or vice versa (in this case, the fat body is erased usually because of some form of internalised fat hate or phobia paired with "if you can't say anything nice" don't say anything at all.) If you're doing either of these things, I'm not saying it's wrong and has to be fixed- I'm just saying it's a flag that you may want to think about why you are writing differently about different body types and what your work is saying about what bodies have value and which don't.

Diversity Bodies in the real world come in a lot of different shapes and sizes (I know I know obvious woman strikes again) but if you are writing stories with fairly large casts and everyone has the same body type - there better be a good reason for it within the narrative. Truthfully there are cases where this does make sense to some degree... if you're writing about a group where there are physical requirements and standards for the folks in that world (ballet dancers, fire fighters, cops, soldiers, fbi agents) there may or may not be less diversity in body type and more homogeneous attitudes to body norms within the group - and certainly those who are outside of the norm may be commented on or feel like they are "other". But if you are in a more free setting - if you write without a diversity of body types - especially in settings where there is diversity - that is probably a clue that you're not thinking enough about what your various characters look like and may be "normalizing" one type of body over others. Similarly, if you are writing about a real time and place where there is evidence that there were fat bodies and you have none...that's another flag to ask yourself why.

The magical tools in your toolkit for describing fat and other bodies: Body neutrality and POV

Body neutrality is about not loving bodies and not hating bodies just accepting bodies as they are....or in this case describing them as they are. No poetic language. No judgement. Just this is what this character looks like. If you're struggling to do this, I suggest doing a body map for at least two characters with different body types - possibly one that you find easy to think of positively (in this case likely someone thin or at least fit) and one that you find more difficult to describe positively (in this case someone fat).

Describe them head to toe, naked and then clothed, in detail - acurately but not poetically. Start with their feet and then work up bit by bit. Pay attention to things like hair, scars, shape of joints, acne, tightness or looseness of skin, colour of skin, nails, fat, lack of fat, muscle tone, where do they hold their stress, what's in the bowels, how well they do or don't work, do they have their appendix, what they ate last, proportions (is their torso long or short compared to their legs), lungs - how much do they hold, are they healthy? - now describe their throat, shoulders, hands, hair, then end with face.

The only rule is no positive or negative connotations to anything. it's neither good nor bad that they have stretch marks - they just do and they have faded to silver. Now that you "see them' clearly - now look at them through the eyes of someone who loves them in a familial way...what do they see most? what words do they use? now through someone who is attracted to them sexually and love them and aren't ashamed...what do they see most? what words do they use? Now through the eyes of someone who hates them or wants to change them? or a child? or a dog? Now... how does your character feel about these descriptions? Now you have a variety of words you can draw on to describe the body and you also should have a fairly good idea of what is a more skewed view of the body and a more realistic view.

Also...it can be helpful to remember there are no consistently good or bad words to describe bodies - it depends on context and who is using the words. It's a lot like how sick can be used to describe something negatively or positively depending on the agreed upon meaning of the word by a group.

DESCRIBING BODIES IN SPACE/MOTION

Ok here's the thing - for every activity you can think of - there is a fat body that does it well and a fat body that can't do it easily or at all and there are a lot of reasons for both. Often it has to do with the fact that a lot of equipment is built for people who are 250lbs or less; and anything for bigger people tends to cost a premium. Also, if it's not an easy new skill to acquire with the body you've got...it may take longer and more bravery to keep pushing through to achieve mastery. People may try to discourage you from pursuing things. Sometimes out of prejudice, sometimes out of impatience, sometimes out of caring.

So deciding what your character's body can do easily and what it can't and why is more important than me giving you a list of words for how to describe fat movements.

My suggestion is: do your research. What sorts of body types have done the activity in the real world? What are the exceptions? What changes? So for example if a fat person is climbing a mountain - do they need more help? Different equipment? A different route?

Things to consider:

- equipment / things that can have weight limits: bunk beds, roller coasters, scooters, waterslides, camping chairs, elevators, trampolines, some bikes, life jackets (finding one that fit was a nightmare), exercise balls, airline seats (learning to ask for the seatbelt extender without second thought or shame was a lifesaver)

- not all fat people have pain, those who do will move taking into account the specifics of the pain - same as a lean person

- when I was pregnant I just got more cylindrical and did not get a classic belly. I moved well and easily all the way through my pregnancy, I had none of the back pain or ankle pain some people get. I stood for a lot of my labour. I gave birth on my hands and knees. Other fat people will have had different experiences of pregnancy...but that was mine.

- clothing can have a huge impact on what bounces or jiggles and what doesn't

- most (but not all) fat people I know are particularly sensitive to appearing sweaty or smelling bad

- how winded someone gets is not directly correlated to body size, neither is heart rate or breathing style; I have theatre training and grew up swimming - I breath very slowly and very deeply normally - so when I talk a slow deep breath...it is very slow and deep indeed. I have always been fat but can swim forever - I have always gotten winded and kind of dizzy running... Other fat people may be opposite.

- people do not "see fat" consistently. People regularly underestimate how fat I am (by 100+ pounds or many clothing sizes) because I am short, well spoken, proportioned in a way that is seen as fairly typical, and very mobile and very light on my feet. Someone who weighs less than me but is slower moving, dull witted, in a sour mood, is illl, or poorly dressed may be perceived as much heavier than than someone the same weight or heavier who is behaving/clothed differently (which can change how much fat hate someone experiences) and definately heavier than they are. Height also changes how people perceive weight.

- many stores still don't carry plus sized clothing, but eventually i sort of got used to it - although some days it makes me angry and other days sad

- chairs with arms or the occasional booth can be uncomfortable or just plain impossible to sit in, it's probably partly my ADHD but I often forget this until it happens; for taller and fatter people than me this can be a much more regular occurrence.

- once (if) a character figures out how to dress/move their body in a way that feels comfortable and meets general standards (or at least theirs) of respectability - they may not think that much about their body...or at least until something external draws attention to it

- I don't like feeling like I'm squishing people, so I will make myself small and still on buses or at the theatre, I also don't like sitting on laps or being lifted or carried.

- I often feel much taller than I actually am - except when I am standing right beside someone taller or am trying to reach something on a high shelf. The same principle applies - I feel larger next to smaller people and smaller next to larger ones.

- clothing and what I'm carrying also changes how I move (just like my lean counterparts)

- I don't lounge, my car seat is set almost straight but I sit further back than my brother in law who has a similar height and weight - he leans the seat back but pulls closer. I don't nap. My leaner husband both lounges and naps.

- some fat folks eat, walk, and move quickly - some slowly; figuring out which your character does, when they behave "out of character", and why these are their preferences will go a long way to creating an authentic feeling fat character

- acne is a thing and learning to accept ones rolls and tummy aprons (and thus take care of them properly) is a common challenge; although many do it naturally without thinking much of it. You lift your breasts and wash underneath - you lift you belly and wash underneath.

- fat bodies have the same reactions as everyone else: they tingle, burn, get numb, get goose bumps, like to be touched in certain places and in certain ways, feel the breeze, get hot, get cold, shiver, stretch, relax, get aroused, feel release, hold tension, feel capable and strong, feel weak...no matter who you are sitting in a chair that's too small for you will put pressure on your body and feel uncomfortable or safe ..you can explore what that is like. Sometimes it is a reassuring sensation. Sometimes it is uncomfortable. This is the same for fat bodies. It just may happen more frequently and depending on your character's context and experience the emotional reaction / thoughts that are generated may be a bit different.

THINKING AND FEELING IN A FAT BODY.

I think I touched on some of this in some of the earlier sections...but here I want to talk a bit about my experience of being fat and my thoughts about it - your fat characters may or may not feel similarly...but my hope is that you at least think about options as opposed to only writing one or two types of fat character.

I mainly "feel" fat in moments when it is pointed out to me or I am limited in what I can do because of it

I quite like my body, it is my home and I feel very connected to it's features. In my experience this is unusual for many people in North American society regardless of actual body shape or weight. Sometimes I feel guilty for not hating my body the way "I am supposed to" and wonder vaguely if my body would be different if I could hate it more (although as I get older I doubt it).

I do feel some pressure to be a cheerful "good" fat person as a way to stay safe and survive.

Nothing makes people more uncomfortable than me calling myself fat without judgement or asking for accomodation matter of factly. It took me a long time to feel comfortable doing so, but I do it now all the time and it makes my life better.

I felt some pressure to be the fun friend who people feel comfortable eating whatever they wanted with and I often felt like I was depended on to order dessert so they could too. This may have been all in my mind though.

Fat bellies can be very intimate places.

Not all fat people have dieted, but many have. I was lucky enough to never be forced into a diet. I did try keto once but it was a bit intense and nuts so I stopped. I learned a bunch doing it though.

Medical people not treating you appropriately when your fat is 100% a thing.

Internalised fat hate and fat phobia is a thing for many fat people and it pops up at weird moments.

I don 't.give a damn about being in a bathing suit. As long as it fits and my boobs and butt.aren't.falling out - I am happy and feel very attractive. In fact I am probably at my most comfortable in a bathing suit or naked. My body is mine in both those instances.

To reach the "healthy weight" for my height - I would have to lose half of my body mass. That is a lot of me to loose. Embarking on something like that would be totally different than loosing 5 or 10 pounds. Trying to navigate the various medical opinions about whether being fat is bad or not is exhausting.

For me, being fat and older is easier than being fat and younger. This could easily be the opposite for someone else.

Some fat people are into sex, some are not . Some folks are into sex with fat people and some are not. Some are nice about it. Some are not. Some want nice. Some do not.

Fat people are all around you living their best life or their worst life or somewhere in between. We know we are fat. We sometimes care and sometimes don't.

Ok that's it. I don't know if it will help anyone or if it's just a collection of rambles - but at the end of the day...fat people are just people. We are not going to go away. We are all sorts. We are the heroes of our own stories. We are people who are loved, depended on, hated, ignored, and/or spotlighted.

Some fat people think about being fat all the time. Some rarely. Just please don't erase us or other us.

Just by taking the step to interrogate your own biases and any feelings / assumptions you have about fatness/thinness is a huge step and will help limit the harm you could unintentionally do to fat people...actually to all people. Like all forms of hate and intelorance - Fat hate hurts EVERYONE. I would argue it privileges a few...but even that can be excruciating for the individuals who strive to retain that priviledge. We need to dismantle it.

[chirpsythismorning]

This is everything the Stranger Things writers have posted publicly about the WGA strike:

TIMELINE

May 3rd:

Stranger Things writer Caitlin Schneiderhan tweets picture from personal Twitter account of sign from the strike that reads 'Pay us or Steve Harrington is toast'

May 6th:

Official Stranger Writers Twitter account makes post on behalf of the Duffers Brothers. They have since pinned this tweet to their profile. "Duffers here. Writing does not stop when filming begins. While we're excited to start production with our amazing cast and crew, it is not possible during this strike. We hope a fair deal is reached soon so we can all get back to work. Until then -- over and out. #wgastrong

Bonus:

May 12th:

Stranger Things writer Kate Trefry posts picture from personal Tumblr account of sign that reads, 'Byler won’t write itself'

As far as I know, the two writers that posted on their personal socials are the only writers from ST that even have personal accounts that are public, whereas the rest of the writers do not.

What does make me take a pause though, is that, while yes they did post these pictures from their personal accounts, which is about as official as it gets, they also cryptically did not include themselves in said pictures...

This just got me thinking about how Stranger Things is quite literally Netflix and vise versa. They are practically one in the same, where one without the other just doesn't make sense.

While this conflict of interest might run deep for many writers out there fearing to speak out against their employer, for us, the consumers, the fans, we as a collective have so much more power than we realize.

In contrast to the writers, streamers can't just fire their consumer base sometime down the line, out of spite for speaking out. Without consumers, neither Stranger Things nor Netflix would be what it is today.

We have the affordance of being able to speak up the loudest of anyone. And so why wouldn't we take advantage of that?

There are so many people out there protesting: writers, actors, others in the industry and even outside of it who are also taking a stand, many who need support so that they can continue to fight in the upcoming days, weeks, months, without being deterred by corporations that are making them feel greedy for demanding a contract that at most, asks that they be paid fairly.

And so I want to encourage anyone that is reading this, but fellow fans of Stranger Things especially, who have so much power in this strike when it comes to getting Netflix's attention, to consider taking the time to do whatever you can individually + with the masses as a community in order to best support the strike.

Follow the Strike! If you're active on various social media already, please be sure to follow the official accounts advocating for the strike via Instagram (@writersguildwest/@wgaeast), via Twitter (@WGAWest/@WGAEast). Engage with posts from folks that are out there daily, many with whom you can find by following tags like #WGAStrong, #WGAStrike and #WritersStrike. Although most fans are not able to join in picketing themselves, we can at least recognize all of those out there's individual efforts and do our best to show that we're paying attention and listening!

Spread the word! Show support any way you can by sharing posts and articles about the strike, or even fun memes to inform others in a more engaging way. This is the official site for the WGA strike if you want to learn more about what’s going on before diving in! And make sure to stay up-to-date here as things continue to unfold!

Donate! The Entertainment Community Fund is endorsed by the WGA for anyone that wants to support those affected by the strike financially. And this thread on Twitter is an incredible resourse, as it provides an ‘easy, one-click, stress-free, accessible-to-all-budgets’ ways you can support folks on the front lines.

Also! Consider donating through this link for the Entertainment Community Fund, where the money donated still goes directly to that fund, this is just an organizing page for Stranger Things fans specifically! By allowing fans to see how much of an impact we make as a collective, in real time, this could encourage even more ST fans to want to contribute. In a best case scenario, if this GoFundMe were to reach impressive proportions of donations from fans, that could lead to news outlets reporting on it, which could allow an opportunity for even more eyes on the strike, while also even more importantly being able to provide financial support to those that need it.

Trend! On social media, use #StrangerFansforWGA to trend or even just to reach other fans also looking to come together to support the strike!

While I know this post probably wont reach anywhere outside of Tumblr, I want to make a point to encourage those of you that are on other platforms to inform fans in those spaces about the strike and what they can do to help!

We might not all agree on everything, but I think we can agree on at least one thing... @Netflix & all major streamers and networks out there, who are still refusing to make a fair deal: PAY YOUR WRITERS!

In the mean time, if you're interested in working on different ideas for initiates we can carry out as a fandom, please reach out to me! I might only one person and I might not have all the answers and solutions, but I do know that with more of us working together, our odds of making an impact are much greater!

Over and out!

[nanowrimo]

5 Tips to Avoid Burnout as a Neurodivergent Writer

When taking on a project as big as writing a novel, you may run into the risk of burnout. NaNo Participant Joana Hill gives some tips on avoiding burnout as a neurodivergent writer.

Burnout.  As writers, we all know it. For neurodivergent writers, burnout can be even more damaging than usual. We can be much more sensitive, both mentally and emotionally, than our neurotypical friends and family.

This means avoiding burnout, and taking care of it when it does happen, can be even more important for us.  I’m here today to provide some tips for my fellow neurodivergent writers to tackle just that.

1. Write What Interests You

Write what interests you rather than what you think you ‘should’ be writing.  Many of us get caught-up in pleasing others.  For neurodivergent people who’ve spent much of their life masking, or hiding their true personality and needs because of fear of rejection, it can be a hard habit to break.

If you want to write a 50k slow burn coffee shop AU of your favorite fandom, an epic space opera starring ants, or a main character with ADHD, autism, dyslexia, or any other disorder or condition you have, go for it.

2. Get A Support Network

For neurodivergent people, we’ve often lived our lives with special interests no one wants to hear us talk about.  It often results in us not talking about them at all before someone can tell us they don’t want to hear about it.

Whether it’s offline with friends and family, or online here at NaNoWriMo or other sites, having people who are actively interested in listening to you and helping you plot and write can be a game-changer.

3. Celebrate As Many Victories As You Want

Many years, my personal goal is that I can get the new Pokemon game, which always comes out around the middle of November now, once I hit 50k.  But you don’t need just one grand goal.

Get a bag of your favorite candy and say you can have a piece every so many words.  Find something on Amazon you want (and can afford to get!) and say you’ll get it once you hit the halfway point.  Whatever motivates you to keep going, set it into motion.

4. Plan For Flexibility

That may sound like an oxymoron, but hear me out.  Neurodivergent people often love to have a plan.  I know I can get frustrated and upset when I’m expecting something to happen and something different does.  For a big goal like writing a novel in a month, a lot of things can end up going wrong.

Carry a notebook and pen or tablet with a keyboard case in case an errand takes longer than expected.  Back your writing up to several places in case your main writing device crashes.  Make sure at least one of those is a cloud service in case you end up writing on a device that isn’t yours.  The more contingency plans you have, the better prepared you are when life happens.

5. Be Kind To Yourself

Some days you may not get the minimum goal, or you might not write at all.  You may feel like you just can’t do it because you’re behind on your word count, or you decide you don’t like what you’ve written.

I get it.  But don’t beat yourself up about it.  Take a break.  Play your favorite game or read your favorite book.  Go for a walk.  And remember that you’re awesome.  No one can write this story like you can.

Joana Hill is a writer of young adult stories, as well as novellas inspired by Japanese light novels and anime. You can find her books, social media, and anything else you could imagine wanting to know about her on her LinkTree. Photo by Andrea Piacquadio

[muffinlance]

Read "Suki, Alone". Liked it in general. But can they please, please hire someone who knows both the show's actual events and how to follow through on a character arc? Because guys. Guys. That comic is not implying about Suki what they meant it to be implying, and all because of literally one line.

So like. From a writer's standpoint:

What they meant to do: show Suki as a community-oriented person who cares for her people, and believes in everyone succeeding together.

As opposed to (spoilers): the thief girl they set her up in contrast with, who's pretty upfront and consistent on primarily looking out for herself. She betrays Suki for one (1) corn chip to improve her own life at the prison, no surprise.

But the problem is: they give Suki an inspirational line to the effect of "we're all working together and we'll all break out together"

You know

The thing she does not do in the show

So if both the show and this comic are canon, then instead of setting up a compare/contrast with the thief girl, they've just set up a comparison. One were Suki is arguably worse, because she's been leading a significant number of prisoners on with her "we'll all fight and win our freedom together!" business, only to straight up cut them out of the escape loop and abandon them, whereas the thief is only leading Suki on in the sense that Suki keeps telling her what it's morally correct to think and confuses snide replies with agreement

My dudes. My fellow writers. You people actually being paid for this. There were so many ways to fix those awful implications against our girl's character, the simplest of which would be to not include that line. Or they could have, you know, made it canon compliant with what actually happens in the show, so that this comic doesn't set Suki up as a betrayer instead of a community builder. Like... just send all her good prison buddies off to other prisons in the wake of the warden finding out they're colluding. Have it timed to be right before the next new prisoners arrive, thus setting it immediately before the Boiling Rock episodes, so Suki didn't have anyone left in the prison she'd want to take with her on a breakout. For bonus points, include a page or two of her and her Kyoshi warriors opening up the cell of one of her prison friends post-war, thus implying she's tracking down and actually fulfilling her promises. Maybe even show her doing the same with thief girl, who was established as being imprisoned on false charges anyway, and also showing that Suki is A) the bigger person, and B) willing to acknowledge her own role in mistakes (because I cannot emphasize enough how much thief girl was not hiding her own priorities, and it was Suki who approached HER with all this, not the girl ever doing anything special to weasel her way in) (this would also open up an opportunity for paralleling Suki's earlier in-comic mistake of not listening to one of her friend's very valid thoughts and feeling, which lead to the girl leaving their island alone pre-canon; a "seeing people as they are, not what you want them to be" moment)

Anyway yeah enjoyable enough for a quick read but another one for the "this can't be canon or the characters are So Much Worse than they were in the actual show" pile

At least Aang didn't promise to murder anyone in this one

[purple-plum-petals]

Hello there, so it’s my first time requesting for you and I read all the rules and I think I’m ready to request, so Glamrock Freddy, Monty, Sunrise and Moondrop x gn! Reader, (separately), where the reader is giving more attention to the animatronics plushies, rather them the real ones, headcanons. Thank you and feel free to ignore if you find this request confusing.

Ps: this message might get spammed, Tumblr is eating my messages lately, so sorry 😅. Anyways, thank you.

—⊱ I’m Right Here ⊰ || Freddy, Monty, Sun, and Moon (Separate) X Reader Headcanons

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮       Character(s): Glamrock Freddy, Montgomery Gator, Daycare Attendant/Sun and Moon (FNaF: Security Breach)        Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)        Warning(s): Jealousy/Slight Possessiveness, Physical Touch (Hugging, Kissing, etc.) – Besides that, Nothing!        Genre: Headcanons/Scenario, Fluff, Romantic or Platonic Relationship        Word Count: ~1,740 words        Request: “Hello there, so it’s my first time requesting for you and I read all the rules and I think I’m ready to request, so Glamrock Freddy, Monty, Sunrise and Moondrop x gn! Reader, (separately), where the reader is giving more attention to the animatronics plushies, rather them the real ones, headcanons. Thank you and feel free to ignore if you find this request confusing. Ps: this message might get spammed, Tumblr is eating my messages lately, so sorry 😅. Anyways, thank you.”        Author’s Note: Don’t worry, this request wasn’t confusing at all – I actually found it really cute and fairly easy to write (sometimes I like requests that don’t take that much brain power haha)! I know other writers have done similar requests, but I just eat this stuff up every time I see it. There’s just something so funny to me about characters getting jealous over a plushie. I hope you like it, and I hope I was able to do your request justice! FYI: All of the characters can be read platonically, but I did add an extra bullet point for each that leans more into romantic territory and is marked as such! (Also, my Sun and Moon bias is showing.)

      → If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

     🐻: Freddy doesn’t get jealous very easily; in fact, he’s probably the least possessive animatronic in the entire Pizzaplex (with Chica being a close second)! So, when he notices you fawning over a plushie of himself you bought for yourself at the gift shop, he actually finds it quite adorable. You just look so cute treating the mini/softer version of himself as if it was alive! He may even take a few pictures of the sweet display. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest that you’re excited about your new plushie.

     🐻: However, he does start wondering if you’re trying to make him jealous after a few days of this behavior. In the beginning, he just thought you were excited to have a new stuffed animal for your collection, but he now had a sneaking suspicion that you were doing this on purpose. So, being the mature fellow that he is, Freddy decides to just ask you directly about your behavior. He even tells you that you almost purposefully ignoring him in favor of a stuffed toy makes him feel… not so great.

     🐻: Oh no, your “Make-Freddy-Jealous” plan backfired exponentially – all you ended up doing was make him feel bad! You just wanted to know if he could even feel an emotion like jealousy considering how open and emotionally mature he was… guess you got your answer there. You quickly apologize to Freddy, though, telling him that you could never love a stuffed animal more than you love and care about him. Thankfully Freddy isn’t the type of animatronic to hold a grudge, so your words make his mood brighten immediately. He forgives you fairly quickly since he knows you didn’t mean any harm by your little prank, but he will bring it up in the future to lightheartedly tease you over such a childish stunt.

     🐻 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): Freddy will just watch you with a somewhat blank stare as you essentially drown the plush in a sea of kisses. There it is, that uncomfortable feeling again… So, he makes his way over to you, gently removing the plush from your grasp and bringing your hands up to cup his face. Freddy smiles at you gently and, with the plushie completely forgotten due to how cute the animatronic in front of you was, you instead started placing kisses all over his faceplate as you both giggle about the absurdity of the situation.

     🐊: Monty was very quickly not happy with the plushie of himself you managed to win in a crane game while you were slacking off taking a break in the Fazcade. At first, he felt his ego soar when he noticed how happy you were to have a smaller stuffed version of himself as you showed it off to him and some of his bandmates, but that feeling quickly faded with all of the attention you were currently giving it and not him (Monty is the complete opposite of Freddy when it comes to jealousy). You two were supposed to be playing golf, not fawning over some stupid doll.

     🐊: He fairly quickly comes up with an idea to get rid of the thing so you two could continue on with your usual hangout routine. Without much more thought to his plan, he goes to enact it. Monty points out something across the course and, when your attention is diverted, he “accidentally” knocks your plushie out of your hands and into the chlorinated water that weaves in and out of the golf course. At first, he finds the look on your face funny, but that’s quickly replaced with guilt when he sees your eyes start tearing up.

     🐊: He quickly grabs the plushie from the water and, with you following close behind him, takes it to one of the staff break rooms where a washer and dryer were located (they were there in case your uniform got dirty in one way or another – it was an establishment primarily for kids, after all, so stains were quite common). He apologizes in a painfully Monty way and, after some more crocodile tears from you, you eventually accept his apology when your beloved prize comes out of the dryer unscathed and only smelling slightly like a public pool. Not that much different from the real thing, honestly.

     🐊 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): As soon as Monty sees you place a single kiss on the plushie’s face, it’s over for the poor thing. The exact moment your lips make contact with the cottony material, it is hastily grabbed out of your hands and flung across the room, bouncing off the wall with a comedic squeak. It’s unscathed since Monty knows how much you like the stupid thing, but he’s not letting you go near it for the rest of the night. He’ll just fling himself across your lap, making you essentially stuck in place as he demands to have your undivided attention.

     ☀️: When he sees you holding and doting over a stuffed version of himself one of the kids gave to you as a present, Sun feels his non-existent heart soar over the metaphorical moon; you just looked so cute playing with the mini Sun plushie alongside the children! However, once all the kids had left with their respective guardians, you were still playing with the doll. Well, that was strange – normally you’d be spending the last half hour of your shift spending one-on-one time with him. As more time passed and the time for you to clock out was nearing, Sun took it into his own hands to get your attention back on him.

     ☀️: Sun made his way over to you with a smile, easily snatching the plush from your hands and running around the daycare with it in his grasp. If you weren’t going to pay attention to him yourself, he just had to make you! You do as he expected, chasing him around almost as if you two were playing tag (or more in this case keep away). This isn’t quite what he wanted, but Sun was glad you were at least spending time with him, even if said time was mostly you yelling at him as you took time to catch your breath after running around for however long.

     ☀️: For good measure, Sun even puts the plush in timeout on a shelf far above where you could grab it without the need for a stepstool; it was a pain how tall the animatronics were sometimes (plus the fact you couldn’t find a single stepstool in the entire daycare). With crossed arms and a stern façade, Sun asks why bother playing with something that can’t even play back. After all, he thought you liked spending time with him before your shift ended! Believe it or not, Sun has a slight manipulative streak and, since he knows you have a soft spot for him, it doesn’t take very much convincing for you to spend the rest of your shift making arts and crafts rather than fawning over a plushie.

     ☀️ (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): Sun stares you down like a hawk from across the daycare as you place feathery kisses all over the face of the mini Sun. Thankfully the children were gone, so now he could enact his revenge for having to see you fawn over the plush for the past however many hours. Sun makes his way over to you and, without any warning, lifts you up in his arms and holds you the exact same way you’re holding the doll in your hands, placing his unique “kisses” all over your face just as you had done to the plush. Eventually the stuffed toy is forgotten in favor of giving your favorite animatronic your undivided attention.

     🌙: Moon pretty much immediately knows you’re up to something due to the strange amount of attention you were giving the small plushie version of himself. He’s sitting on the floor, cradling one of the children who is fast asleep in his arms as he glared at you from across the daycare. You were babying the mini Moon doll, giving it more attention than you had ever given him. As much as he hated to admit it, it was quite an annoying sight to see. He had no clue why he was becoming jealous over a plush, but he needed to get rid of the thing fast.

     🌙: Gently setting the child down on the soft mat in front of him, Moon silently made his way over to where you were sitting as you fiddled with the small bell on the plushie’s hat. You didn’t even notice Moon approaching until the plush was ripped out of your hands, the small bell jingling as Moon dangled it above your head with a smirk. You were going to shout at him, but he quickly cut that idea off by placing a finger to his mouth and making a “shh” noise between his closed teeth.

     🌙: However, no matter how much you quietly pleaded for him to give it back, Moon drew his arm back and flung the plushie over the glass walls. It landed in the net that surrounded the daycare and now had to sit there before you’d be able to retrieve it after closing. Moon didn’t feel bad in the slightest since you’d easily be able to get it back, but now you were ignoring him on purpose. Oh well, he’s sure you’ll get over it before the night ended. If you gave him the silent treatment for days, however, he would eventually apologize for throwing your stupid doll into the net.

     🌙 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): The lights were off and you two were finally able to have some time to spend with one another, but here you were kissing a doll of the very animatronic you were supposed to be hanging out with right at that moment. Was Moon jealous over a stuffed toy? Perhaps he was, but he knew a fairly easy way to get your attention back on him. Walking over to where you were currently sitting, Moon sat down beside you and wormed his way into your lap, grabbing your face after batting the plush out of your hands before pulling you down and placing a feathery light kiss on your lips. Now that was certainly one way to get your attention, but it definitely worked out in the end.

[tigertale]

A/N: Fantasy AU ahead, like, those fantastic middle aged themed worlds with magic, bards n' all? Anyway, I'm such a messy writer I'm sorry

A/N2: I wrote this before chapter 7 and finished the smut recently, although the end is messy :(

• F!Reader; Malleus

•〔　！ 〕 Smut; Virgin Malleus/Reader; Creampie; Grammatical errors; Not proofread

•6.8k words

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Lilia's words only made the man by his side groan. They were both beings of the night. Period. No need to explain just how uncomfortable he was. No matter how mesmerizing the colorful flowers aligned by each windowsill looked, nor how the sun brightened the streets and further empathized each of the bystanders' smiles, he couldn't stand them. They were everything that he wasn't, the exact opposite of what he had known and experienced his entire life, of what he needed the most; a new beginning, joyful laughters and an undying happiness paired with the feeling of fullness.

"The longer I stay here, the more repulsive they become." The soldier sighed at his words and disapprovingly shook his head from side to side, although it looked more like he was annoyed by the prince than anything else. But the dragon couldn't see it as he tried to avoid the petals flying around while spitting the one that had already gotten into his mouth. He wasn't one to curse, but the heavy sweet smell of the pollen filled street tickling his nose threatened him to do so.

"Malleus, we came here to observe the tradition of humans. Having a new outlook on life can only benefit you." The fae said as he stopped next to a merchant who handed two ice-cream cones after he had given them 2 silver coins. The dragon was soon to become the next king of Briar Valley and all Faes as whole. But with the secluded life he had had to live through, Lilia could only wonder if so few experiences in life could properly let him have a peaceful reign. "You need to see more whilst you're still young." He then handed one of the ice-cream cones to the prince who reluctantly took it.

"I do not see how prying into the mortals' life and customs will help my impending rule." This once again made his caretaker sigh as he shook his head from side to side. This would prove to be more difficult than what he expected if he didn't soon find anything that could possibly catch the attention of the boy. A surprised huff was taken out of him as he was suddenly stopped by a kid who collided with him.

The man merely smiled as he pushed all of his hair, some locks dyed in a blood red, onto one of his shoulders and knelt down. He reminded him of the young child he had taken under his care not long ago — he had actually taken him when he was a newborn, and he was already around six, which wasn't exactly a "long time ago", and with a deep chuckle, he took the child from under his armpits and set him on his feet before dusting him off. While the kid was still confused, he continued to make sure that he wasn't hurt by the fall, his father like instincts pushing him to do so —although he didn't mind as he still kept a smile up as to not scare the child. "Where were you running at so fast? It's dangerous to run around in a crowd." The kid nodded but was clearly excited and impatient as he was fidgeting more than one his age was supposed to.

"It'll start soon!" He rocked on the back of his feet as he was trying not to peek above the man's shoulders to see if the oh so expected event of the year had started. "The Battle of the Spring Queen!"

Lilia perked up at that. He let the kid go without further questions, only giving a playful "be careful" and his ice cream in exchange of the promise that he shouldn't run in the streets anymore or at least be more attentive, before getting up and dusting his clothes off.

"I thought humans were pacifists as of today. Why would Queens fight?" The fae laughed at that under the annoyed gaze of his younger fellow. Oh, he sure had missed a lot, hidden in this castle of his! Maybe that he should ask Maleficia for permission to take Malleus out more often. He eventually calmed down as he removed the tears threatening to fall from the sudden laughter that took over him.

"Of course it's no battle per say." He hummed as Malleus was patiently waiting for the rest of the answer while passing his tongue over the cool dessert. It wasn't often that he received ice cream, and one from Lilia was cherished even more, so he tried not to eat it in one go out of excitement. "Each year for spring, they hold a dance contest of sorts, where the winner becomes the Spring Queen for a year."

"Just dancing?" Humans were fighting by dancing now? They were more peculiar than he had given them credit for.

"Of course I said dancing, but it's not something that simple." When they arrived at the town center, Lilia easily pushed through the crowd with his small size to reach the front as the prince struggled to follow him. At Lilia's request, he had hidden his horns to avoid a mayhem among these mortals, but right now he wished he hadn't because the annoyed looks he received were slowly boiling his blood with how much they annoyed him. "I've heard that it can take years to perfect it. And— Ah! Just on time!"

The dragon fae eventually arrived beside his caretaker and looked unimpressed at the rows of women standing in the middle of the town center. They had all formed many circles, the smallest inside and the others extending to be bigger the farther it was from the center, around a maypole and all had a ribbon in their hand. The white dresses they all wore nearly made him cringe, it was all too bright and the sun rays bouncing back on them and into his eyes tenfold this sentiment. Even the crown of flower resting on their head and the embroidered fabric attached to it and hiding their face from the onlookers was almost too much. Should he just go back? But then Lilia would be disappointed in him and he feared the distress it would bring him more than anything.

A voice loudly announced from within the public the start of the competition and the musicians started playing a folk tune right after, hurdy-gurdy, tabors and flutes becoming one. Lilia pushed the tip of his elbow against Malleus' arm to catch his attention at the same time. "That's what we came to see." The women all lifted their hands up, wrists decorated with a mix of flowers that the dragon had a hard time trying to recognise, before slowly turning on themselves with the soft and sluggish tempo of the melody. "This is one of the few traditions humans inherited from us."

Slowly picking up speed, they followed suit. They each took a step to the side as they continued to turn on themselves. Each row was rotating to different sides which created an eye-catching show as the fabrics all flew around the more the rhythm grew to be frenetic.

The pace of the song eventually arrived to the point where it was hard catching up to it, and soon enough someone fell. She looked rather frail as her face was finally unveiled from when her flower crown had flown away. Stumbling, falling on one another they all smiled, their no longer hidden bright eyes only making the public even more excited. The orchestra suddenly stopped, and so did the women. But it picked up just as fast and they all spinned to the other side with linked arms. "Oh this is the moment. I forgot to ask, Malleus, do you want to join them?"

He looked at him incredulously as more women fell to the point that the remaining upright had to jump over the bodies to continue. But he didn't get to answer as he was pushed forward, more men following behind him. Lilia was surprised by the sudden rush and merely managed to take Malleus' ice cream as he was soon too far for him to hear him. He didn't expect something like this to happen, hopefully he'll manage his way out of this predicament he had accidentally found his way in. Or he could partake in it which would please him more than the other option.

The dragon looked back to his caretaker, but before he could react, someone had taken him by the crook of his arm and twirled with him closer to the center of the dance which only further widened the distance between them. He couldn't back out now, he was surrounded by the town folks, dizzy and the dance had also become more complex and he knew he would bump into someone if he decided to walk out of the dance.

One moment they were linked to one another, the next his partner had left him as a new one jumped into his arm now hopping and spinning with him. And just as fast, she left him and he was once again handed over to someone else.

He didn't like it, being passed around like, what he could compare as, a mere toy. Swirling on the same spot with little to no rest as he felt the ice cream he had eaten slowly climbing its way up his throat. He couldn't see it from how blurry and loud everything was, but there were only a few people left standing, enough duo that he could count them with only a hand. He was strong on his feet, due to his fae nature, unlike all the others who would fall from the sheer speed their new partners came at them with. He was the center of the attention, everyone watching carefully how this stranger had imposed himself as the one anchor needed for the winner.

He broke out of his haze for a mere second as he had finally locked eyes with Lilia who still had his dessert in hand. But he could only make out a few words from his stretched lips "It feels like we'll have a surprise this year. Aren't you lucky fufufu~" before his new partner brought him back to the current situation at hand. Much to his surprise, unlike all the others that had a deathly and uncaring grip on his shoulder and arm, she turned out to be more conscious about his uneasiness.

It didn't stop her from forcing him into the dance, continuing to twirl with him, but when her veil lifted with the wind sweeping it away from her face, he could make out an apologetic smile. "Sorry for forcing you into this." She said more to herself than for him, knowing that he wouldn't have heard it as her voice was drowned out by the music, but he did, thanks to his keen ears. The music came to a sudden stop right after. And she used this chance to come closer to him, pushing her chest against his as she tiptoed so her lips could reach him right under the shell of his ear. The closeness didn't faze him enough not to notice that there were only two pairs left. His and another couple staring daggers at him. "This one will be the last part, please keep up with me a little longer."

And seemingly entranced by whatever power she had bewitched him with, he listened, immediately following her when the music started again. As if his body had learnt the dance, definitely against his will, he easily matched her movements. Unlike before when he was just being pushed around, he was now the one gripping her hand hard enough not to hurt her but to make sure she didn't fall or lose balance, and he made sure to turn at the same time with her.

She was concentrated, not noticing the sudden change of demeanor of her partner, as she looked at her feet to make sure that she got it right. If she was to fall now, it would be all over. She had worked hard to come this far and she wouldn't let victory slip through her fingers so easily. And at long last, the same booming voice that announced the beginning of the contest ringed far above the music. This time, marking the end of it.

The two standing slowly came to a stop, regaining both of their senses as they mindlessly looked at their feet. It was… the end. It came faster than what they had expected. Or was it because they had lost themselves in the heat of the competition? When they remembered the situation they were in they looked around for the duo they were competing against. And here they were, bickering on the ground, too caught up in their anger and accusations to get back on their feet.

Malleus turned back to his own partner when he heard her laughing. She took the flower crown and removed it from her head, shaking her head to put her hair back in place, before looking up at him. Oh. She was…

He couldn't even finish his thoughts that someone came and took her hand, throwing it up as they announced her as the new queen. Clapping and shouting became louder the closer the public approached him and the woman was still gripping his hand, but it only brought back the previous headache racking the back of his head.

Thankfully for him, he was whisked away by the very person who put him in this predicament in the first place. He didn't even bother to hide his pout as Lilia wore a bright smile, taking him farther away from the public's eyes. "Did you enjoy it?" And Malleus could barely believe his words. If he had enjoyed it? Did he look like he had enjoyed it at all?

Once they were far enough, he had begrudgingly walked to a driveway where he could hide as he was vexed by Lilia's question. "I want to go back." And Lilia sighed at the tone his prince had taken. He had hoped for him to become a little more aware about his duties as a prince, but it seemed like it didn't work his way this time. Thus, while a hand was pushed against his hips, he snapped his fingers, bringing them both to the inn they were staying at.

"Malleus." The soldier started as he circled the bed to sit on the cushions decorating the windowsill. Although he wanted to sit on it, he ended up slumping onto them with yet another aggravated sigh. "You didn't learn anything from it, did you?"

As an answer, and seemingly vexed, said Malleus crossed his arms, still standing before the door as his own way to protest his displeasure with the entire situation. "I don't believe that there was something to understand from such an unpleasant event." The entire thing was reckless, ungrateful, and overall displeasing to him. The noise, the heat, the light, he would have never imagined someone liking such things if he hadn't witnessed it first hand.

"These people are under the care of faes. All of the previous rulers cared way beyond Briar Valley's borders." He moved his fingers, summoning a kettle brimming with hot water and the teacup by the bedside. With another fickle, the hot water was poured inside the cup where a used teabag was patiently waiting to be of use again. "And as the heir, it is your duty to understand what will fall under your charges. Their customs are different yet similar to ours, neglecting that can quite easily create a rift that will bring to a new war." He took a sip of his cup once it was ready, a small grimace appearing on his face at the bitter taste. He immediately brought a few more suspicious ingredients that he put into his cup.

"You have much more to learn about this world, and I hope that you will learn something before we leave."

At that, he disappeared, the slowly dying greenish sparks the only proof that he was here just a moment ago. And Malleus was confused to say the least. He understood his words, yet, he found them hard to decipher. He surely had learnt everything at the castle with the most proficient teachers of this age, he couldn't think of anything left to explore. What a mystery, he would have to work on it fast if he wanted to talk to Lilia again. His caretaker had always been one to teach through actions rather than words, and when Malleus was at fault and too stubborn to open himself, he had found out that leaving him to think about what he did wrong would work the best. Although what truly scared Malleus wasn't the scolding but the fact that Lilia just refused to talk to him as he was one of the very rare people he could feel at ease with.

And the only person he could turn to as of now was the mysterious Queen of the Spring.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

She was still by the town center thankfully. Although this time she was draped in a modest but fitting green dress, the only decoration were flowers that seemed to have been haphazardly thrown on her by who he could only suppose were the many men praising her beauty by her sides. Surely when he thought about meeting her again, he expected her to be praised as a Queen, but the crowd of men surrounding her, craving for her attention as marriage proposals were thrown here and there for her to take, was definitely not what he had in mind. And by the look on her face, a tight smile as she uneasily looked around for an escape, she wasn't enjoying the situation as much as him.

But by some miracle, as he was thinking that he should maybe go back to the inn as she was not in the position to help him, she locked eyes with him. Her pupils dilated and stars dancing in her eyes as she recognised him in an instant. She stood up, walking down and forcing her way through the people still waiting to have a good look at her, a few apologies thrown at those who she feared she could have hurt, and excitedly marched towards him.

"I– I've been looking everywhere for you!" She started right off the bat, her cheeks definitely hotter than they should be as she tried not to stare at him too much. Even if it wasn't her fault, he was pretty handsome to look at after all, especially compared to the folks here.

He hummed, not fazed one bit by the shy look she wore. "Is that so?" He merely said, not knowing how to react to the information she gave him. It was unexpected indeed, for her to look for him despite how irrelevant their meeting had been. (But could he really think that when he was the one that came to see her, thinking of her as his only anchor in this unfamiliar place?)

She buried her head in between her shoulders, fingers playing with each other as an attempt to calm the awkwardness she felt from his answer. "Of course, you're the reason I've won after all." And when he repeated her sentence with a curious but surprised tone, she could only try and add more context to what she had said. "You saw the one we were against at the end right? They're two nobles and like, their families have always worked with each other so they could win the title of the Spring Queen each year. And I kind of found it unfair so I tried to go up against them, and like, if it wasn't for you, and you're really strong by the way, I would have never won because most people here are too scared to go against them you know? And I am too, it's even surprising that I'm still standing here right now because I expected them to just come and snatch my head off because of my impertinence or whatever excuse they'd created but no! So like…"

If she was hot before, well her embarrassment had now reached a whole other level where she had became a furnace. Of all times she could have let her stupid habit of ranting take over, it had to be with the pretty man whom she had danced with. "I'm uuh… I'm sorry for rambling…" She had always been scolded by her family for it, even the kids that would hang around her had innocently commented negatively about it. And she was trying really hard to get rid of this habit, she could even swear on her pride if needed!

"It's okay, although I don't think that talking about such things out in the open is good for you." Ah he was right! What if those nobles were actually looking to take their revenge on her? But there was no place where she would be free of danger. These guys were everywhere and—

"Then you wouldn't mind coming to my house, right?" A humm left his mouth as an approval, more fascinated by the fact that she was continuously embarrassing herself yet was self-conscious about her own attitude.

She moved to the side, a meek "this way" leaving her lips as she led the way to her small abode. And her house, farther away from the town where everyone had gathered, was… Would comparing it to a pet home be offensive? Because compared to the castle back home, this was akin to comparing an ant to a dog. And when she opened the door, he was somehow even more surprised. The house seemed to have only two rooms. The kitchen, dining room and bedroom all welcomed him at once which made him assume that the door at the back led to what must be the smallest bathroom he could ever imagine.

Still, what truly was unexpected was how cozy it seemed. Unlike the walls made out of cobblestones back in the Fort he lived at, which only made the atmosphere colder than it was already, the various plants and colors around was a sheer contrast to what he was used to. And it bothered him.

As he sat down on the drawn out and only chair in the house, he mused at the different shades coloring the walls. "What are those?" She came next to him as he pointed at the paintings above her bed. She smiled softly at the question.

"Before I left, my family gifted me those." The colors were clashing and unsightly. And despite the fact that it was made by someone close to her, he couldn't find it in himself to somehow change his views. They were still childlike and clumsy at best. So he merely hummed, not caring about voicing his… not distaste, but he definitely didn't have the best opinion on those. "Anyways, do you want some tea?"

She moved to the counter by the sink, pulling out a small wooden box from the mess decorating what would be considered the kitchen. "Actually I would much rather go for coffee." She stopped dead in her tracks. Coffee? People like her couldn't afford such things. She truly wondered who that man was.

Still, she slowly turned to him, an apologetic look on her face as an awkward smile hung on her lips. "I'm sorry I don't have coffee." She watched as he pondered a bit, fingers resting against his chin with closed eyes, before he looked back at her and told her tea was fine. She let out a quiet relieved sigh as she went back to the herbs sitting in the box before her, taking the most expensive flavour to give him before moving to heat some water on the stove.

His eyes were fixated on the intricate design decorating her back, the shape of a flower drawn with all the threads interwoven through one another and letting him see a star that seemed to be a birthmark in the middle of her spine. And his gaze slowly moved lower and lower, the need to be satiated growing the more he looked at the small parcel of skin showing between the bottom of her rather short dress and her white thigh high stockings. Why did he suddenly feel his body yearning for her? He didn't know and didn't want to. He was tempted, entranced, to move closer and pass a hand under the skirt of her dress. He wasn't used to seeing such loose and short clothing, having been mostly in company of nobles, they were posh and well-dressed with layer and layers of fabric hiding their skin. Even the soldier or the few villagers he had seen across Briar Valley were only covered from head to toe with little to no skin showing. Maybe that was why he was hypnotized by her, wondering for the very first time what was hiding under someone's clothes as his draconic instincts were teasing him into taking actions.

Malleus somehow managed to keep calm as she approached after a while, a cup of tea and some low-cost biscuits to eat with the soft drink. "Here, I don't know what you like so I made some Earl Grey tea." He smiled kindly, or at least tried to as only a small almost unseen smile appeared, before switching his attention back to the drink sitting before him to take his mind off the impulsions of his dragon side. Partaking into the carnal desire and losing the purity that was only meant to be given to his future wife? He knew better than that. And while he was debating with himself, she quickly ran to the counter in the kitchen and back to him. "Ah wait!" She bent forward, her short dress hiking up and flashing him a good amount of the small panties she wore, a cube of sugar hanging in between her fingers as she plopped it in the drink so soften it up.

Fuck, he actually didn't know better than that, because right before he could properly think, his hand had moved to cup one of her buttcheeks. She froze, and so did he, as an awkward silence stretched between them, one that seemingly wasn't registered by him as his fingers flexed around her flesh, earning a small and surprised squeak out of her. She turned back to look at him, the top of her body allowing her to turn enough for him to see her flushed cheeks as she peeked over her shoulder. "I-Is there a problem?" And she cringed at the question she asked. But he didn't care, nor did he answer back as he got up, towering her while his hands slid along her body, assessing each curve and bumps under his long fingers, before stopping under her breast.

She was pinned on the table, unable to get back up as the man was pressing his chest to her back, his hot breath tickling her neck as she felt the tip of his fingers tentatively pressing the fat of her chest. She didn't know how to react, should she push him back? She should, as she had yet to marry and had to keep herself away from any sexual activities that could "taint" her according to the religious man who had blessed her and the many other women of the village. She hadn't respected that rule as she had… already explored her own body a few times already. But partaking into something greater than merely playing with herself? While the fear of being accused of hysteria taunted her, she was still heavily tempted by this stranger's, more than vulgar, invitation.

And against her better judgment, she softly placed her hand atop his, slowly guiding it as her breath hitched when she felt his cold skin touching hers above the low-cut of her dress to the top of her larynx. His eyes dilated, pressing his hand around her throat at the same time, trying to assess all the small reactions she would have which further drove down this unknown feeling devouring him. He wasn't one to fight back his urge, far from it, he was more often than not indulging it which would always make Lilia shake his head out of disappointment. So without much thinking, he wrapped an arm around her waist, the other hand moving her head to the side for him to graze her skin with his pointy teeth, as he quickly brought her to the bed by the corner of the room. He fell on it ungraciously, her body now trapped in-between the bed and the erection he was rutting against her backside in near oblivion, each of his grunts feeling like honey soothing her mind.

His fingers started exploring her, tormenting and harassing every bit of skin showing, even tearing new holes in the pristine white dress she wore to access more of her. She felt herself drifting away when two of his sharp nails eventually found themselves back to one of her breasts, pinching it as he continued to press the hard-on still confined in his pants along her clothed slit. And as if to make things worse, he had finally started to nibble on the junction between her neck and shoulder, the lewd sound of his lips and tongue playing with her skin driving her further down this hole he had opened. What if she was fucked silly after all? She wouldn't mind if it was this handsome stranger whose lust was oozing and overwhelming her senses. But it seemed that after a short while he grew bored, instead moving away from her, just enough for him to turn her around so she could face him, settling by leaning above her as his hands rested above her ass.

She was now laying on her back, his body still towering her as he decided to press a delicate kiss on her lips, quite unexpected especially when one would consider how rough and impatient he had been until now, as if he had finally taken over the instincts that were pleading for him to drill into her hole and make her his for the night. And she reciprocated, moving her hands behind his head to grasp a handful of his hair and bring him closer. She wanted to feel him more closely, to have him imprint his lips on hers so that she could never forget him, who would surely defile her in a few moments. And hopefully, what a childish wish it was, he would understand her feelings and return the affection back. She didn't know who he was, not even his name which she had forgotten to ask, but she knew that this wise man eating her lips would be better than any of the men who were crying out to tie the knot with her. Because unlike them, he had proven how capable he could take care of her, how he was an immovable pillar when needed. And she only needed this. No fancy gifts from someone who she knew would cheat behind her back.

Whoever this man was, she craved him. He could do anything to her, she knew not why and didn't want to, and she would be on cloud nine as long as he would give her the slightest bit of attention.

But he didn't understand those hidden messages she tried to pass over to him through their languid kiss. Because when he felt her gripping the dark locks sitting around the base of his horns, he quickly lost himself back into those dangerous impulses of his. The dragon in him needed to put an heir or two inside her warm and welcoming womb before the feeling disappeared.

He broke the kiss, listening to the delightful panting leaving her mouth as his mouth traveled farther down along her collarbone. At the same time, his hands had moved from the small of her back to her legs parted on each of his sides, passing them under her bunched up dress and stopping once a finger had passed under the band of her underwear. And his hard-on, more prominent than ever, was once again grinding against her clothed slit, snatching loud whines out of her. Her breath momentarily hitched when she felt a hand leave her thigh, only to feel it scrambling with the belt stopping him from clearing his most urgent need. The occasional and unexpected knocking of a finger or two against her clit made her mewl, and urged him to move even more messily as it only annoyed him how much he was struggling with the leather tied around his waist.

At long last, he freed himself from the clothing confining him away from her. He hissed at the cold air that contrasted with the heat of his length which prompted her to look downward. But he immediately pressed his lips against hers, once again, which stopped her from seeing it, tongue entering her mouth and creating a mess of drool pooling on both of their chins, a strong hand moving to the back of her neck as he removed her undergarments. He did ponder a few seconds, should he let the stockings hugging her tights on? But he quickly shook this thought away, a deep groan rumbling all the way down from his throat as he ripped the fragile layer of clothing off her legs, leaving only a few stray of white fabric to cover her skin.

Her breath hitched when she felt him, surprised by the sheer size of his warm hard-on resting right in-between her legs. She was supposed to…? Not that she was a prude or anything, but she truly stopped a second to think if she was really ready to take something like this inside her. It was only normal for him to have a size proportional to his height but it definitely looked bigger than what she had heard from the women gossiping early in the morning at the corner of the marketplace. He didn't wait and immediately went to slowly rub his length along her still clothed cunt, earning small gasps and whines from her as she pitifully tried to hide them behind her hand. But he didn't care about them, not when he could feel the warmth she was producing, so heavy and impossibly addicting, which shrouded his mind more than it actually was.

He went back to what he was doing a moment ago, this time passing a finger on the underside of her panties as he pulled it to the side to allow the tip of his cock to press against between her walls, grinding and spreading out her cum along his length. Right when he stopped at her entrance, ready to plunge in, she weakly grasped each side of his face with moist hands which caught his attention. Breath heavy, eyes teary, and cheeks burning, she still took the time to ask one simple question that she had been dying to ask since she met him… "Y-Your name… What's your name?"

"Malleus."

And he slid inside her before she could say anything, pace hard and fast from the get go as he couldn't get a grasp of the insatiable need to fuck her. A loud gasp resonated in the room at the first thrust before a string of whines followed, she could hardly keep up with him, hanging on dear life by wrapping her arms around his shoulders as her fingers drew deep lacerations on his back. She didn't know what motivated him to be so harsh against her poor body, handling it so carelessly that she feared that she'd break, and they were only beginning.

But these actions didn't spurt out of nowhere. He had been hungry, unknowingly keeping it in the needs to mate as he had never been confronted to it directly, his caretaker having deemed that he had no need to indulge them so young —the Draconia family surprisingly didn't indulge much into sexual activities unless they were with their significant other, which lead them to believe he didn't have to learn about his impulses. Yet this woman he had found himself dancing with, acting so gently with him, unlike those who would do so out of fear or excessive admiration, had managed to grab his attention. And the dress they had given her to go with her new title as the Spring Queen, how small it was, hugging her body in a way that made him imagine just how she would look without it, how could it not fill him with inappropriate thoughts? How could it not tease the dragon inside him?

His fangs, elongated the more the seconds passed, the more his cock thrusted back inside her as he felt her walls closing around him, the more he heard her small whines, pressed against the skin of her neck tentatively as his mind was clear enough that he knew that he at least shouldn't mark her. It didn't stop him from teasing her, loving the way she would tense up whenever she felt his teeth pressing a little too hard on her skin.

With each thrusts, she felt herself breaking, her body reacting not only to the length racking her insides up, she could feel the telltale signs how her orgasm building up although she knew that it had yet to properly overcome her mind, but also the strangely long teeth against her neck and the sharp end of his nails playing with the tips of her breasts, the pain only further inviting her down the sin she was partaking in. Her voice rung inside the small house through the form of short and high pitched whines that aroused him the more he heard them.

With one unexpected motion, he turned her body over pressing her upper body down with one hand, fingers tightly clasped around her neck and playing with her breath. Her breath staggered, definitely taken aback by the sudden change of position, and she almost gagged when he went back inside her, fucking seemingly harder than before. Her senses tingled, blurring out any clear perception of what was happening and emphasizing the heat pooling between her leg with each of his thrusts.

She was on cloud nine, feeling her legs trembling as she neared her end, and his pace stuttered when he felt her walls clenching around his cock almost viciously, prompting him closer to his own release despite the tension of his body having yet to disappear. He went to a sudden stop, her confusion only lasting a mere second as his cum filled her up right after with his groans resonating around her. She whined back, his lips instinctively pressing against her neck to sooth her, having a hard time keeping up with the amount of cum overflowing inside her and dripping out on her thighs in the appearances of pearly white drops.

Eventually, she huffed tiredly, her mind finally starting to clear, and soon she would realise that he had came inside her. Possibly impregnating her with the sheer amount he had pounded inside her. But before she could think about it, he carefully took her hips with his hands, moving her to a new angle as he draw his cock back, leaving the rest of his semence to finally flow out. He pressed the tip of his dick between her folds once again, this time a small smirk on his face as he looked at her fucked out face.

"Darling. I'm not finished."

Her eyes widened, but she couldn't say anything that he was already back inside her. She didn't know how someone could have such stamina, and she wondered for a moment if he was human —which he wasn't but any hints he had given that he was fae had been drowned out by her pleasure. Yet, her mind quickly felt like mud, preparing herself for a long night.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

Lilia stared incredulously at the way Malleus was fiddling with his breakfast the next morning, his mood visibly brighter than before. It was… troubling to say the least. The boy was easy to read, hiding his emotions has seemingly always been a problem for him who was easily swayed, and after he had so coldly scolded him, he didn't expect to see him in a good mood. So when the boy turned towards him with a contemplative look; "Those children of man sure hold many qualities." he was surprised to say the least.

What happened for him to change his mind so fast? He could only wonder.

[kaciidubs]

i’ve come back a lot sooner than i expected 🤭 hear me out.. 9th maknae member reader (skz) x Mingi (ateez) 🤯 Reader and mingi have been in a secret relationship for at least a year and both Companies are preparing on announcing their relationship to the public/fans. (it gets better 😼)

Both groups: (ateez + stray kids) don’t know that they’re dating 😱 The boys arranged a massive sleepover for both groups to hangout and reader gets really hot and bothered by mingi teasing her the whole night. They end up excusing themselves (sneakily) and they have the most mind blowing sex ever. All of the other boys over hear and were shocked 🤯 They act like nothing happened as they didn’t want to assume they were dating but later on at an award show it was finally announced that Mingi and Reader were dating. Skz boys went crazy and was practically babying their precious maknae 🫶🏻

kaci my favourite writer 🥰

(p.s sorry for how long this is 💀)

This one's been sitting for a while, mainly because it's already a wonderful thought as is! So, here's just a few thoughts to expand on it~ ❣ Warnings: 9th Member! Reader + Song Mingi [Ateez], smut, fluff, slight humor ❣ ❣ Additional tags: essentially a crossover for Staytiny all around the world~

While the rest of the members were in the living room, you would be bent over the bathroom sink with Mingi giving his all in rearranging your guts in the most quick yet efficient way possible - though, that way didn't include him being the quietest while doing so.

"Mm, jesus, fuck-"

"Mingi, be quiet."

You'd think he was the one currently getting his guts rearranged from the way he struggled to contain his moans, leading you to shoot him a warning glare through the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"We might as well go and fuck in front of them if you're going to be this loud!" You seethed with a hushed scold, gripping the edge of the counter to keep your balance with his unwavering thrusts.

You could only hope that your combined groups were too occupied with the movie they were watching to notice you and Mingi missing.

Sharp eyes locked onto your own through the mirror, a sideways smirk stretching his lips, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? It's not like they don't suspect it anyways." Snapping his hips forward, he continued, "We can just give them a nudge in the right direction."

Biting back a moan, you dropped your head between your shoulders to focus on the orgasm he'd been teasing you toward since he arrived at your shared dorm; subtle grazes and risque touches keeping you wound up and ready for anything.

A hand found its way around your throat, pulling your body up at an angle so that your gaze met his once more; captivating and hypnotizing, yet still filled with a love that had you falling for him all over again.

"I love you," the words fell from his lips with ease, honest and true, "and I don't want to keep hiding it."

You were, too - he knew that better than anyone, and having to hide it not only from the world, but your band members, the closest people you have, had been eating you both up since day one.

Gripping his forearm, you nodded softly, "I love you too, baby - just a little l-longer to go."

His lips curled into a smirk before driving into you with a newfound fervor.

Neither of you would catch the knowing side eyes or smug smirks of your members when you each returned separately to the living room to catch whatever remained of the movie.

The 'little longer' would eventually come during an award show, with the thoroughly discussed plan between your managers and PR team of revealing the relationship to everyone during a collaborative performance.

Part of it was Mingi's plan to do a performance together, but with the way your schedules aligned, you figured doing it live as opposed to uploading it on youtube was the easier choice.

With the stage - quite literally - set, you and Mingi performed your arduously practiced routine in front of your fellow artists and hundreds of screaming fans, and as the song came to an end the moment you've been waiting for was upon you.

Getting ready for the ending pose, Mingi pulled you into his side and pressed a loving kiss to your temple, while you hugged him with a dazzling smile to the camera focused on you both - and to say the reactions were worth it would've been an understatement.

The wild screams of your colleagues and fans was enough to pierce through your earpiece, and shooting a glance into the idol space you could see all eight of your members going absolutely insane - sneaking a glance to the Ateez table to see almost a mirrored reaction.

Leaving the stage to take off your earpieces and mic packs, the return to the Stray Kids table was nothing short of a spectacle as Changbin swiftly wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"You think you can just go off and get a boyfriend without telling us?! You're too young!"

"Innie and I are literally just a few months apart," you laughed, trying to pull away from his partial choke hold.

"Yeah, a few months too many! You're our baby!" Jisung all but wailed, squeezing your cheeks much to your dismay.

Seungmin scoffed, "The fact that we knew and you're still acting like this? Hyunjin's dramatics is rubbing off on you."

"Wait- You knew?!"

"It's not like the two of you were the sneakiest..." Minho's nonplussed tone made a wave of embarrassment wash over you, the memory of the movie night quickly dawning. "Plus, trying to hide anything from Wooyoung is like trying to limit yourself to one of Felix's brownies - it's impossible. Changbin hasn't stopped talking about their theories since they first started scheming."

Managing to untangle yourself from Changbin's hold, you found Chris standing in front of you now, a firm expression on his face.

"Are you happy?"

You could hear the lingering, unspoken words behind his question and you offered him a gentle smile, nodding, "I am, I really am."

Face brightening with his signature smile, he pulled you into a quick hug, squeezing tightly, "Good, because you're definitely telling us how everything started between you two, later."

Separating to go back to your unassigned assigned seats - with a few words of congratulations from Felix and Hyunjin - you looked across the aisle to catch Mingi already staring at you, his lips pulled into a proud smile while the rest of his members gave you teasing, yet supportive, cheers.

[unedited]

[noxturnalpascal]

Dancing is a Dangerous Game

(FrankieMorales  x  F!Stripper!Reader)

A/N & Warnings: Sexual Content below - 18+ only, Frankie doing what he do (iykyk), unspecified age gap (anywhere from 10-15 yrs), talk of stripping/dancing as a job that pays the bills. The photos on the Moodboard are just for fun, the female Reader is not specifically physically described so you can imagine her however you want. Thank you to @saradika for the divider.

Did I make this prompt up myself for me and some fellow writers? Yes. Did I set the word count limit? Also Yes. Did I stick anywhere even close to that limit? *laughs hysterically.

PROMPT: Pick a Pedge Daddy character - Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dave York, etc. (it can be Canon or Non-Canon/AU/No Outbreak).

PPCU Daddy is surprised - and excited - to learn that the grad/postgrad student he hires to watch his child sometimes also works as a: stripper/dancer/cam-girl/onlyfans-model/dating-or-escort-service (or straight-up SW) 

*1000 word Minimum - 2000 word Maximum

WC: 4749  (I have a problem)

Frankie’s mouth was hanging open. He knew he should close it. He knew he looked like a weirdo. He knew he was about to get a “Catfish, lookin’ like a fish” joke from his friends. But for the life of him he couldn’t take his eyes off the stage, or close his gaping jaw.

Not since his babysitter walked on stage and started taking her clothes off.

To be fair, you're not his babysitter anymore. Not since he called you three weeks ago asking if you could babysit for him tonight and you broke the news to him that you'd gotten a new job and couldn't babysit anymore. At least now he understands why you left the not-so-lucrative world of babysitting for an arguably better-paying gig. 

You've only been dancing for two minutes and he already sees more money on the stage than he would've paid you to sit his kid tonight. He’s been watching as you undulate your body across the stage, bending and dipping, stripping down to your underwear. Even though part of him thinks he should, he definitely doesn’t look away when you divest yourself of your lacy little bra.

He always thought you were hot. He was a newly-single dad, interviewing you for a semi-regular babysitting gig. He tried to focus on your resume and your qualifications. He tried to breathe through his mouth so he couldn’t smell your delicate perfume. He tried to ignore the dewy pink lipgloss you had spread across your mouth, which is in stark contrast to the bright red lipstick you are currently sporting.

He was very motivated by the fact that you, as a graduate student in your mid-20’s, seemed more responsible to leave his kid with than the other applicants to his babysitting ad, all of whom were literal teenagers. But truth be told - you were also really fucking hot. Horny dad and the hot babysitter, what a fucking cliche he was.

However, in the eleven months you babysat for him, he never acted on his inappropriate attraction to you. He never treated you as anything other than an employee. You’d show up to his house, hair in a messy bun, wearing comfy clothes, ready to sit on the living room floor all evening playing with his kid. He was polite, and respectful, and was almost positive you never caught him staring at your tits.

Your tits that he’s most definitely staring at right now. Holy shit you have great tits.

“Fuckin’ A Fish, if you’re gonna keep your mouth open, you could at least pour some beer into it.”

“Huh?” Frankie snaps his head back to the table he’s sat at, surrounded by his friends. They all chuckle. 

“We’re about to order the next round and you didn’t even drink any of that one yet,” Benny says as he points to the dripping bottle in Frankie’s hand.

Oh, sorry, Frankie mumbles as he pushes the now-warm bottle to his lips and begins to drink the beer down, his eyes moving back to the stage. The entire club is lit only by colored lights that coordinate with the twirling lights and lasers pointed at the stage, pulsating to the tempo of the music you’ve picked. Fog rolls across the floor of the stage, cascading over the edge. 

There’s a single golden pole at an outcropping of the stage that you’re now gripping with both hands, sticking your ass out towards the audience and giving it a wiggle. You let go of the pole and hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties. You slowly begin to push them down and just as the crack of your ass comes into view Frankie momentarily forgets that he can’t swallow liquid and breathe at the same time. 

He begins to sputter and cough, choking on the bubbly liquid and spurting it across the table onto the faces of half of his friends. He’s met with groans, curses, and several swats to the back of his head as he attempts to get his wheezing under control, and the fluid out of his trachea.

Santi, who somehow managed to avoid Frankie’s beer-foam projectile, slaps a palm on Frankie’s shoulder and says,

“Guys, Frankie’s real sorry, he’s just never seen a naked woman before.”

The laughter at Frankie’s expense serves as some form of forgiveness, and everyone slowly goes back to flirting with the wandering dancers and ordering their second round. Santi keeps his hand on Frankie’s shoulder and leans into Frankie’s personal space.

“You alright?” Santi asks, squeezing his friend’s shoulder firmly.

Frankie manages to mutter a strangled yeah before several rounds of trying to clear his throat. The lights have dimmed, sinking the club temporarily into a hazy darkness. He briefly registers that the song you were dancing to has ended, so you’ve most likely left the stage.

Santi laughs, shaking his head. He moves his mouth right to Frankie’s ear, almost whispering.

“When I convinced Will to have his bachelor party at this club I thought you’d be the one making your hot babysitter choke, not the other way around,” and he claps Frankie on the back hard, “if you know what I mean.”

Frankie’s eyes go wide as he meets Santi’s crooked grin, but his friend offers nothing more as he moves to the other side of the table, turning his devilish smile on the waitress. He orders two beers and three shots for each man, dismissing the groans of protest from the table. Bachelor Down!, he shouts at Will as everyone does their shots and chases them with cheap beer.

You approach the table full of men with seven other dancers, each of you assigned by the club to give a 20-minute private dance to one of the members of the bachelor party. You’re each in various states of dress, but most are only half-dressed. You’re back in your lacy underwear set - panties and bra - but the sheer nature of the fabric leaves little to the imagination. 

Your previous job as a part-time nanny worked while you were an undergrad. When you started law school it became too much and you had to switch to more infrequent evening babysitting gigs so you had your days free for school and studying. Unable to keep up with school payments you recently had to find something new. Something that only required night and weekend availability, but paid really well.

Enter: Stripping. 

You’ve only been doing this job for a little over a month but you’d quickly gotten very comfortable with being naked in front of strangers. You had your little dance routine and could easily make flirty banter with the club’s customers. Your boss was impressed enough that he’d started assigning you party gigs with some of the other girls, like this bachelor group.

You walk up to the group of strangers, the rest of the girls fan around the table as you’re left standing just behind a broad-shouldered man with a baseball cap on, curls sticking out from under the back strap. You turn to the man with a big smile on your face.

Holy Fuck. 

Not a Stranger.

It’s Francisco Morales. The hot dad you until-recently babysat for.

He looks at you sheepishly. Your hands immediately fly to cover your breasts, suddenly mortified that your nipples are showing through your nearly-transparent choice of outfit. 

“Mr. Morales!”

“Oh I- I already,” he begins to stutter. Is he telling you that he’s already seen your tits? 

You look around at the collection of empty beer bottles and shot glasses on the table and figure that they’ve all been here for much longer than just your dance. So covering your nipples does nothing for your modesty as hot dad has probably already seen everything. You drop your arms to your side, attempting to look relaxed and casual.

“So I-uh. I guess you found a babysitter for tonight.”

He laughs. He actually laughs at your awkward attempt at diffusing the tension. Thank god. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can say anything one of his friends is speaking to the group. He explains that “everyone gets a private dance” and no one can object - and he looks right at Mr. Morales when he says this - because “it’s all been paid for already.”

Following the lead of the other girls you gently grab Mr. Morales’ hand, missing the looks back and forth between him and his friend. You do your best to confidently lead him back to the private rooms with the rest of his group. There are a dozen rooms in the hallway and eight of them have been held in reserve for this bachelor party group. Pulling him inside the last room on the right, you close the door behind you. 

The room is dim, save for the red glow of the lights. The ceiling and floor are both painted black and the three walls without the door are mirrored. Towards the left is a single high-backed black leather chair facing a brass pole that sits in the exact center of the room. On the far side of the room is a curved loveseat against the wall.

This should be easy. Not just because this is your job but because unlike any other man you’ve ever led back here, this is a man you are extremely attracted to. 

This is a man you have fantasized about.

You’ve imagined his curls between your fingers when you’ve grabbed a fistful of a customer's hair, imagined that it’s his stubble scratching between your breasts when you’ve pressed them close. You’ve envisioned his wide chest as you ran your hands down their front, his massive paws in your hands as you’ve taken their sweaty palms and placed them on your rolling hips. 

You’ve wished they were his thighs that you were grinding your ass onto and his erection that you all-too-frequently felt pressing into you. That should make this easy. But instead you’re super fucking nervous. Even more nervous than your first night here, when you dragged your panties down your legs and bent over, exposing your pussy lips to a packed room of strangers. 

What makes you most nervous is probably that the fantasies didn’t stop in the club. It would be one thing if they were just here, serving as a comfort, self-soothing by putting a familiar face in place of a groping stranger’s face. But that’s not the truth. You’ve imagined him at home too. 

In the shower, pretending your hands were his hands as you pinched and plucked at your wet nipples. Daydreaming about his weight on top of you, fucking into you, as you drove one of your toys in and out of your wet cunt. 

And if you’re being perfectly honest, you can admit that it’s been going on for almost a year, since shortly after he hired you to be his babysitter. Remembering the times you’d made yourself come on his couch, hours after his kid had fallen asleep, waiting for him to return home from a night out with his friends. Your hand stuffed down the front of your pants, petting your clit to the thought of him on his knees in front of you.

You never thought you’d actually be naked in front of your fantasy-DILF. This is like being slapped in the face with your own wet dreams. This is kind of a nightmare.

“Listen, you don’t have to-” he begins just as you start to speak as well.

“Mr. Morales I know-” and you both stop and let out breathy, nervous laughs.

“C-Can you please stop calling me Mr. Morales?”

“Oh sorry! Is that weird?”

“It sounds like the start of a bad porno,” he groans, laughing again. “Please just call me Frankie.”

“Of course, I’m so sorry Mist- Frankie. Sorry. Frankie.”

You both break out in laughter again, loudly this time, hoping to finally diffuse some of the tension. A knock sounds at the door and a deep voice - security - asks if everything is alright. You shout back that everything is fine and the room quiets down.

“I should start the music and get going,” you say quietly, motioning for him to sit on the curved red velvet seat against the far wall.

You press a button above his head and music starts up, the first of three songs forming a 10-minute loop that will repeat for this booking. You look into the mirrored wall to your left and notice how nervous you look. Then you meet his eyes in the mirror. Why does he look just as nervous?

You straddle one of his legs and shakily reach back to undo the clasp on your bra. You meet his eyes again. Fuck he can see how your hands are shaking. You look like such a fucking kid. A goddamn amateur. This is going to be the least-sexy lapdance he’s ever been given. 

You can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips when you suddenly feel his hot hands covering yours at your back. 

“You can leave this on if you’d be more comfortable,” he says softly, barely heard over the pumping bass of the music.

“No I’m fine, I’m just…” you don’t know how to explain to him without embarrassing yourself but suddenly you’re making an admission and the word-vomit has left your mouth before you can even do anything to stop it. “I just always thought you were hot.” 

There it is. It’s out there now. 

He opens his mouth to say something and your nerves bubble up and come out as more words and why the fuck are you talking more?

“I know, I know,” you spit out before he can get a word in, “the babysitter thirsting after the hot dad, how prosaic, right? Talk about a bad porno.”

His warm hands still touching you, he slowly moves his fingers around yours, deftly undoing the clasp of your bra for you.

“It’s okay, I kinda… thought you were hot too,” his admission slips out in a whisper.

You really want to kiss him right now. But that would be a very bad idea. Security patrols the hallway and the door has a small window towards the top of it. It allows security to peek inside and see from the shoulders up. Usually if they can see your shoulders, all is good. If they can’t see your shoulders, it gives them an idea if rules are being broken or if the girls need help. 

Kissing - among other things - is against the rules.

You barely turn to look at the windowed door but you’re embarrassed to think that Frankie must know what you’re thinking because it’s like he can read your mind. Or maybe he’s just thinking about kissing you too? Either way he puts his hands back down to his sides and lets you lean into him, allowing your bra to slowly shift down your shoulders until it falls into his lap.

Your tits are right in his face. You’re half naked in front of the hot dad whose child you used to babysit. The hot dad who you’ve pictured doing this exact thing with - and more. But he’s not even looking at your tits. He’s looking you right in your eyes and making you feel more naked than you’ve ever been in your whole life.

He shouldn’t be here, not doing this, not with you. He should ask for a different girl. He should tell the security guy to kick him out. He’s making you so uncomfortable, he can tell by your twitching movements and halting breaths. He can’t stop staring at you like he’s some kind of lonely creep, what a fucking weirdo he’s being.

You position your legs on the outside of his, keeping his legs slightly open and his hands obediently face-down on the couch next to him. You’re straddling him but hovering above his lap, seemingly careful not to touch him. When you put your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself you begin to stiffly roll your body towards and then away from him.

He doesn’t know where to look. He can’t keep looking at your face, he knows the eye-contact is getting very disturbing. Why the hell did he tell you he kinda thought you were hot too? At least he didn’t admit the truth, that he thought you were fucking supernova-hot. He’s had to bite his tongue countless times to stop from asking you out.

He focuses his eyes at the hollow dip that lies at the base of your throat. It has a dance of its own, moving slightly with your pulse and rolling with your shallow breaths, the rise and fall of your chest a baseline rhythm. He tries not to think about your bare breasts just below, breasts that he’s thought about putting his hands on every single time you’ve walked into his house for the last year. 

He can see your deep red lips in his peripheral vision, and immediately the image of those lips on his skin is conjured. He pictures a chaste kiss planted on his cheek followed by a less-chaste thought of his thumb pressed into your mouth, your eyes looking up at him while your lips leave a red ring on his hand. He needs to fucking calm down. This is just a dance. You’re at work doing your literal job.

He suddenly notices you’ve almost completely stopped moving. He looks up at your face and you’re wearing a tight, pained expression. His brows furrow. Oh no. What’s wrong? Is his erection noticable? Is he creeping you out too badly? Do you want him to leave? He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but you silence him with a gentle squeeze to his shoulders.

“I think I’m gonna die if you don’t touch me,” you squeak out in a strained whisper.

In the back of his head a part of him thinks that he shouldn’t immediately cave. It shouldn’t be this easy. Part of him thinks he should need more than just you saying that. 

But he doesn’t. At all.

He slowly slides his body down the sofa, pushing his frame between your legs. You move your feet apart to accommodate his wide shoulders once you realize he won’t fit otherwise. He stops when his ass is sitting on the floor and his head is just above the seat of the sofa, you towering over him. He reaches down and begins to take off your platform heels one at a time. 

As your bare feet hit the floor you run your hands up your neck, over your face, and through your hair, your knees knocking at his shoulders. Touching you gently with only two fingers on each hand, he pushes on the backs of your thighs, guiding you even closer to his face. He grabs your feet and holds them in his hands, forcing your legs to fold and pushing your knees past his ears as his head rests back on the seat.

You’re kneeling at the edge of the sofa, shins on the cushion, feet dangling over his shoulders, your toes curled in his massive hands on his chest, and his head between your thighs. Your face still looks uneasy, and he can just make out whining noises over the music. High-pitched and breathy, the way a dog would beg for scraps at the dinner table.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna touch you now,” he growls.

You grab the brim of his hat and twist it off his head, immediately diving your fingers into his locks. He squeezes your toes and you take his cue, lifting your hips and canting them towards his waiting mouth. Latching his mouth onto your underwear, he runs his tongue up and down your covered seam. 

He feels you begin to rock your hips into his face, rolling your body above him. Any security who looked in the window would see your shoulders moving to the beat and assume you were kneeling on the couch and giving a lap dance. He can only barely see you from his angle, sees the lace of your panties, sees your wrists grabbing at his hair.

Letting go of one of your feet, he grabs at your wrist, dragging your hand from his head to the front of your own underwear. You run your fingers down yourself, parting them around his mouth, letting his tongue tangle in them. Then you grab the edge of the gusset and pull it to the side.

Wasting no time, he immediately begins to lick at your folds, tasting the wetness that has gathered there. A lot of wetness. Christ, you’re so fucking wet. His nose touches just below your clit and a string of your arousal attaches him to you when he pulls back slightly.

A slight pause in the music has his heart stop and his stomach in his throat. After a couple seconds - that seem to stretch on forever - the first song begins playing again, restarting what must be a looped set of music. 

That must mean this private dance-time is halfway over. Ten minutes left but since you two probably started after everyone else you might not have the full ten minutes of privacy if his friends decide to burst in the door. Which, if they’re led by Santi, is a real possibility.

Less than ten minutes. No problem.

You must also feel the sense of urgency because you adjust your hand that is holding your panties to the side. You take your thumb and pointer finger and move them over yourself, parting your lips to open yourself more to him and pulling up slightly, exposing your nub. He flattens his tongue in response and drags it over your sensitive bundle, noting the way your body trembles when he does so.

He knows he doesn’t have the time to edge you as he’d like to, but he can’t help himself when he moves his head lower and twists his tongue into your hole, thrusting it into you. You are bouncing yourself slightly up and down, helping him fuck yourself on his tongue. He feels your wetness pouring over his lips and dripping down through his whiskers.

He feels your hand leave your own body and tangle back in his curls along with your other one, grabbing two fistfuls of hair tightly in your grip. Having had enough of his teasing you’re apparently deciding to take matters into your own hands.

Frankie loves eating pussy but this? This might be his favorite thing in the whole world.

He angles his head perfectly, opens his mouth, and sticks his tongue out stiffly as you begin to grind your pussy against his face. You’re using his nose, his tongue, his chin, even the bristles of his facial hair. You’re using whatever you can to get yourself off as you ride his face. It takes everything in his power not to break out in a giant smile.

He doesn’t hear you, you’re still being the quietest you’ve been since you got in this room, but he feels it. Shit, does he ever feel it. He feels your body tense, then your legs quiver, feels the pulsing in your cunt as you press yourself firm into his still-open mouth. He gently laps up your gushing orgasm as you release the grip on his hair and whimper softly above him.

Knowing you’re short on time, he has you climb off him much sooner than he’d like you to. Your heavy-lidded eyes meet his and then yours go wide. You bend down and grab his hat, plopping it back on his head and attempting to tame his just-fucked-hair back underneath it. You run to the corner of the room and grab a small robe hanging on a hook, skipping back over and roughly wiping his face off with it the way you would a toddler after a meal.

He quickly adjusts himself, tucking his protruding hardness under his belt in an attempt to conceal it as he watches you adjust your askew panties. Still topless, you throw the robe back towards the corner in a panic just as there is a quick knock at the door. Without a signal to enter the door flies open anyways, no less than three of his friends bursting through the doorway drunkenly, shots in hand for Frankie to partake in.

They make Frankie drink the shots before he even leaves the room and then they drag him away from you, hollering obnoxiously. All he can manage is an apologetic look over his shoulder as he hears the final song finally come to an end. Time’s up. Luckily you’re laughing at their antics and don’t seem to be upset. Maybe you were just flirting with him because that’s your job. Maybe you just wanted a good tip.

A tip! Shit.

Being dragged down the hallway Frankie grabs Santi by the arm and asks in his ear how much he should tip you. Santi says he usually tips $200. Frankie is shocked that a 20 minute dance would garner that big of a tip, but then again it’s been a long time since he’s been at a place like this. And to be fair, you - albeit unknowingly - let him fulfill a long-time fantasy of his.

$200 is more than he would have paid you to watch his kid tonight. No wonder you’re not his babysitter anymore. He fishes around in his wallet and takes out all the cash he has, $236. He manages to break off from the group of guys after they do another couple shots and he looks around for you. 

Unable to find you he spots one of the girls you came to the table with and she lets him know you’re on a break but she can get the tip to you. He hands her the folded bills and she thanks him by leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek. When she pulls back from him she widens her eyes at him and flashes him a knowing smile.

“I’m sure she’s very appreciative… of the tip,” she winks.

Frankie tries not to blush and resists the urge to high-tail it to the bathroom and wash his face off, opting instead to keep the scent of you on him. He returns to the table of his too-drunk-to-notice friends and finishes out the night of revelry.

.

3:03am

Hey

Hi

3:06am

Sorry

3:09am

You’re probably asleep

3:10am

Hi

I’m just getting home actually

3:11am

Oh cool me too

Sorry to bother 

I just wanted to make sure you got your tip

I left it with your friend

3:14am

I did, yes. Thank you so much.

3:14am

Cool 👍

3:16am

Don’t take this the wrong way…

But how drunk were you tonight?

3:18am

Idk

Why?

What did I do?

I’m so sorry

3:19am

No, don’t be sorry!

I’m not trying to be rude.

I just….

Did you mean to tip me that amount?

3:25am

Oh my god

Was it not enough?

I can give you more

I’m really sorry

Do you have Venmo?

3:27am

No! OMG. It was plenty!

Literally the most I’ve ever been tipped is like 40%

You tipped me 118%

3:30am

Oh

3:31am

Yeah so I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get too drunk

And accidentally just give me everything in your wallet

3:35am

Is that what happened?

3:37am

Because I can Venmo some money back to you

It’s really not a problem

3:40am

Sorry no

I just tipped what my friend told me to

3:41am

Well I checked with the other girls….

NONE of your friends tipped that much

And they were all very generous!

3:44am

But none as generous as you

3:45am

He’s such an asshole

I’m sorry

I didn’t know

I feel like an idiot

3:46am

Again, please don’t be sorry

It was VERY generous of you

And I’m very grateful

3:50am

I was in a giving mood tonight I suppose

3:51am

Mr. Morales, is that you being flirty?

3:53am

Oh we’re back to Mr. Morales now?

3:55am

Can you get a babysitter on Wednesday night?

3:55am

I don’t have custody this week so no babysitter needed

Why?

3:56am

We should go out to dinner

3:57am

Oh we should?

3:59am

Yeah we should

Frankie

4:01am

MY treat

4:01am

LOL I should hope so!

4:02am

Pick me up at 7 😉

4:02am

I will

See you Wednesday

[gallavich-fic-club]

We are hosting our very first writing event ~ so stuff all your pens, notebooks, and art supplies into your favorite backpack, bring water and snacks, and join us for Gallavich Summer Writing Camp!

What is it?? Writers and artists will team up in “bunks” and write a story together, paired with accompanying art (if desired!). Stories will post the 3rd week of July - during our weeklong virtual campfire.

What kind of stories can we write? * The theme of your story is ... ☀️ SUMMER ☀️ * Story word minimum: 10K * Please make sure your stories and art are tagged properly

How do I join a bunk? * You can form one with your friends! Each team can have any combination of writers, artists, and betas - we recommend 3-4 people per group. And we'll expect a cute name for your bunk too :) * If you would like to be assigned to a bunk, we’re excited to find the right one for you! 

Got my group, now what? * Once you have your bunkmates assembled, please fill out this Google Form by Friday, May 10 to let us know your plans. Just pick one representative from your bunk to complete it.  * If you’re signing up solo and would like to be assigned to a team, you can indicate that on the form too + your preferred role.

The week of May 13, we’ll contact each group to let you know your assigned posting date ~ and then you can start writing and creating!

Posting Week: July 22-26; we will check in midway through to make sure you’re on your way or if you need anything as you work toward your posting deadline.

We’ll have a Collection on AO3, so at least one person in the bunk should have an account.

The Fic Club on Discord will set up a channel specific to this event where you can ask us questions and chat with fellow participants. If you’re not on the server yet, come join us!

We can’t wait to hang out by the fire, roast marshmallows, and read stories together!

[bluexiao]

#writing about your idol boyfriend… and he finds out

—basically fanfic writer!reader and idol!6reeze/anemo boys and this is their reaction on finding out about it // a request // DCKZ version

—modern idol au, fluff, crack, established relationship, mentions of light jealousy 

SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER

He would be pretty surprised—how can you hide even the fact that you’re a fan and now, a fanfiction writer or whatever that thing is called. He sure knows its very existence as he knows someone who taught him that… but you? No way. No way did he believe you at first until you reluctantly showed him a snippet of your writing. 

Certainly, you must be lying about this to an extent, just to show him that you favored him very much that you would write for him–very often, at that as well. 

But hey, at least you were writing for him–not that he’d ever admit that it was enough to flutter something inside his chest for a moment. 

Though knowing the mere fact you were writing for the others as well… Well, of course, that makes him feel a certain way that he would definitely act out on. And he’s going to be so childish about it that he’s going to make it your problem, not his–no, no, no, definitely not his. 

“How brazen you are, to write not only for me but for five other men who you don’t even know well.” 

It will definitely sound like him judging you, but do not get him wrong, he only dislikes the fact that you’re taking your time writing for the others–and isn’t it useless to do so? You already have him as your lover, so why is there a need to impress others by writing for your boyfriend’s–

Ugh, nevermind. It’s not that he will even tell you. 

Be prepared to not have kisses or hugs or cuddles whenever he sees you writing for others. Actually, he may have to note to himself that he should make an account on that website and continue to visit your account. 

Yes, it’s just to… monitor if you will characterize him or the others right. Right. It’s not because he’s jealous. Of course not, why would he be jealous? 

Ugh, he definitely is though. 

XIAO

You are… a fan of his? Of them? 

While it is not entirely surprising that you would wound up being a fan of their music, it would be unbelievable for him to think that you would be a fan, enough to write stories and all sorts of “imagines” about them–as you’d refer to it. 

Though it doesn’t bother him much, he’d be raising his brows each time he sees you on your laptop and you’d say that you’re busy writing for a post. If it was for him, he’d be a little bit flustered and would be quite clingy with you, sometimes, he’d be curious about what about him you’d be writing and how you’d write him. 

“I don’t think… I would agree to cuddle someone like… that quickly and easily, Y/n,” he has this small pout on his lips as he looks up at you and meets your eyes after reading the work that you had just posted a couple of seconds ago. It made you wonder if he had your notifications on whenever you posted but you had to answer his sudden reaction. 

“You’d do it for me though, right?” 

There was an expression in his eyes for a moment before he looks back down to his phone screen with a brief gesture with his hand while clearing his throat. 

You suppose he will after all. 

Yet if it’s not him and you were writing for one of his fellow members, he would be the opposite. You would not feel how distant he was until you finish your writing, realizing that he was acting rather suspiciously, silently scrolling through his phone in a room away from yours.

He’d be difficult to console, but one Almond Tofu from you might solve it, and then tell him that you have an idea of a story for him. Of course, that might pique his interest as he chews on his favorite meal with a small blush on his cheeks and ears. 

He just likes the feeling that your writing for him brings–so do write continuously for him! He’ll appreciate each and every one of them. 

KAZUHA 

He’d be very calm, but in reality, his heart was pounding!

You are writing for him? Ah, he certainly had not anticipated such a thing, but it would be quite a bad look for him if he outrightly says those words or express such feelings, so he tries to keep it in. 

“That is actually very flattering, my love. Will you allow me to read them, then?” 

Would most likely resort to teasing you–more like unintentionally, actually. He will merely be glad that those were the words that slipped out of his mouth, he guesses he was just used to teasing you that it was natural for him right now. 

He’ll be quite supportive though, and will most likely create an account just to monitor and like your posts. Some, he will comment on–especially the ones that have him or were of his, you observed. Comments like “so on point! bravo!” or “this was good!” and so on. 

He’d most likely end up being a writer himself on a specific site where he can freely publish his poems. This may be due to your encouragement or inspiration for your way of posting your works. 

He does admit that he is not particularly fond that you are writing for the other members, or that you have picked someone else as your bias and ended up with them in your profile instead of him. While he does appreciate that you’re hiding your identity properly for your safety, it just… doesn’t sit right with him. 

So what does he do? Well, he does the thing he knows best. Steal your heart and wait until you make him your profile. 

HEIZOU

Interesting–it was all he can think of. 

After all, he had a hunch that you were secretly a big fan of his–not that you didn’t express you weren’t, but he didn’t know it was to the extent of writing stories online about him or the rest of the group. 

So, how did he found out? Well, of course, you didn’t tell him first–in the end, you did tell him, but he was the one who initiated it. He just noticed that you were either typing away on your keyboard or laptop or your phone whenever you have free time and whenever he tries to take a peek to see what was on the screen, you would always try to pull it away or sneakily transfer to another page. 

And then, after a couple more observations, he was convinced that you were hiding something. At first, he thought you were planning to surprise him with something or maybe… well, he already considered a couple of other possibilities, but surely, you weren’t cheating on him… right? 

Well, it didn’t seem like it. Your pattern of typing didn’t seem to be coming from someone who was talking to someone else, suggesting that maybe you were either typing for research or a report. For an essay? Or wait… You did say you liked writing. 

And thus, after the confirmation that you were a writer and slyly ending up on the topic of what you were currently writing… you ended up confessing that you were actually writing for your blog, and what’s more surprising was that it was for them–him and his fellow members. 

“Ah, I see! So that’s what it was,” he nods unconsciously in understanding, “such an amusing discovery. I couldn’t have expected you were a fanfiction writer. Huh? Why are you looking at me like that? Of course, I knew what a fanfiction writer is. Who do you think I am?” 

He still claims he is a good detective, so this kind of “discovery” would be something he’d brag about and continue to tease you about for a long time. 

Also, he does seem to be a critic as well. If he ends up reading all of your works, he will probably point out the mistaken characterization, grammar, misspelled words, and so on. Toughen up your heart, buttercup. 

VENTI

What can he say? Of course, he’s feeling giddy just by the thought alone! And he’d not be embarrassed to show it. 

“My windblume is writing stories about me?! And to think we both are writing for each other! Why, of course, I do think about you whenever I compose a song–a love song for the love of my li-Ow! Alright, alright, I won’t tease you any more. But hey… maybe… I can read your stories? The ones for me, of course!” 

He’s quite a talker, so don’t be surprised if it “slips out of his tongue” so suddenly and told it to his members. As the leader of the group, he is also responsible for keeping the group together, so being chatty was a quality of his that didn’t have to be eradicated. Thus, he might have said it while passing time or something. 

Yep, definitely sounds like him–this thought would cross your mind when Aether told you about it. 

Another thing would be that he would pretend to be jealous whenever you write for someone else, being pouty and whiny, telling you that you should write more for him and that you’d end up “making it up to him” by writing a piece for him. 

Oh, and don’t be surprised if he will actually make a song about indirectly calling you out for being a writer that writes for him and for the other guys just for the fun of it. 

AETHER

Of course, his first reaction was shock. 

This is not because he was weirded out or something, it was more so for his bewilderment that… how could he not have known? Despite his appearance and personality, he must have noticed such a thing, but he didn’t. And other than that, he should have taken the time to look into your hobbies. Yes, he did know that you liked writing, but why on Teyvat did he not ask if you have published them or what you wrote about? 

And instead of masking this regret, he will express it genuinely and would begin to chat with you about your writings and so on. 

“How long have you been writing?”, “I see, so you can tell what our reactions would be… and write about them? Ah, no, I’m not-I’m not judging you, love. That is actually very impressive.” 

Would actually be the only one in this group that would be supportive through and through–engages in all of your posts and would not feel jealous in any way whenever you try to write for the other members. 

I mean, really! Even if you have a different bias, he will even give you their signature or free merch. 

But don’t get him wrong. That doesn’t give you the free will to always talk about your bias. You should talk about him too! You’ll be rewarded with a bunch of kisses afterward if you do!

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3

NOTES. so sorry i haven’t been posting! finals just finished and i was resting the whole time and i also attended a concert not so few days ago that exhausted me greatly! but anyway i’ve had this on my drafts for so long so i’m just glad i was able to post this now! thanks to the anon who requested this! i so wanted to make a version of this aside from the dckz one~

taglist will be on the reblogs!

[three--rings]

There's something I think is important to say, in the wake of the season finale.

And that is that Izzy Hands' death wouldn't be such a huge blow to Izzy fans if the fandom had treated them better for the last year and a half.

Losing a beloved character can be devastating. I personally have cried for days over it. (In retrospect I had Other Shit going on that made me extra susceptible.)

But Izzy fans have been through the wringer. Outcast and targeted for abuse in the fandom, accused of every kind of derangement and personal flaw, death threats, doxxing, organized harassment campaigns.

I don't even know most of it, because I'm not someone who spent time in the Izzy trenches, I still got death threats for talking about him. But I saw things that really made me disgusted with the whole fandom.

Then they got the high of being proved right by S2 in their interpretation of Izzy's character. The writers agree with Izzy fans, full stop. And just when it seemed like all the shit might be over and have been...IDK worth it? Rewarded?

Well, then he's killed off.

I understand the rage, the grief, the despair to feel like you were finally getting the thing you wanted from a show and then to have it soured. (coughTheMagicianscough)

I think it's important for the fandom, if it doesn't want to descend back into toxic sludge, to have some compassion and tolerance of Izzy fans emotional reaction. Talking shit about the fans that just experienced a great loss is not a class move.

Please try to have an ounce of empathy and humanity.

Because it's only NATURAL in in such a hostile fandom environment, Izzy fans grew deeply attached to their messed up little guy. They suffered abuse for it. That only makes things more intense.

I've been there, multiple times. It fucking sucks. We all are having a lot of emotions about the finale, and the very least we can do is to not turn on fellow fans.

I have very little hope for this fandom not turning back into a dumpster fire, because frankly the track record is POOR. But, well, figured I give it a shot in the dark.

[bebx]

random don’ts in fanfic writing!

a disclaimer that these are just some suggestions from a fellow fic writer & you don’t have to agree with everything I list here. the intention of this isn’t to shame anyone but to only offer advices I personally take.

I hope you’ll find at least one of these useful.

don’t go “the taller man looks at her with a smile on his face” or “the blonde girl laughs, feeling his eyes on her” on characters whose names are already known by the readers. I admit that this is something I used to do for so long because I thought it was cool, until I learned it’s just unrealistic, because normally, if you know someone; say, if they’re your friend, you don’t call them “the taller man” or “the blonde girl” or “the older man”, you call them by their names. so unless your readers aren’t supposed to know the names of these characters yet, just say “Justin looks at her with a smile on his face” or “Sarah laughs, feeling his eyes on her” — it feels more natural this way.

don’t give readers your personal feelings. “the walls are closing in, and he still has trouble standing up on unsteady legs. panic’s making it hard to breathe as he realizes he’s going to die. what will poor Daniel do now?” — “poor” in this case is the author’s opinion, how they feel about their character. it’s unnecessary to add in your work because, with all due respect, it can make the whole thing sound like a children’s book where readers are not capable of knowing how they’re supposed to feel in this scene and so they need the author to tell them how to feel. unless you’re writing something specifically for kids, don’t do this. don’t insult your readers’ intelligence by constantly guiding them how they should feel about this particular character in this particular situation. your readers are not kids. they are perfectly capable of knowing how they feel. they will feel sorry for the character on their own. they will read your work and think “oh no, poor guy. how will he get out of this now?” on their own. you, as the author, don’t have to tell them to be sorry for the character.

don’t outright underestimate your own work. being humble is a good thing, but sometimes you just have to be proud. don’t directly say “this sucks” or “I don’t really like how this turned out” in the author’s note, it can actually drive readers away from your fic. it drove me away from a fic so many times. and it’s a shame, because I really believe your readers — I really believe I — would’ve loved your fic if they’d — if I had — given it a chance. but the disclaimer that outright says “this isn’t good” from the author themself is unfortunately more than enough a reason as to why readers decide not to read it altogether. so… don’t say that. you can be unsatisfied with your work, but your readers don’t have to know that. hell, they might even love it. so, yeah, be proud.

don’t replace eyes with orbs. I… admit that I frequently did this during my Wattpad phase, and it’s actively haunting my nightmares to this day. I guarantee you that you can just say eyes. “she looks right into his eyes” yes, you can say this, and it will always sound more professional in terms of writing than “she looks right into his beautiful blue orbs” which, if I’m being brutally honest, “orbs” used to describe eyes just makes it all sounds like a school essay where we purposefully use fancy words so that our teachers know we have those words memorized in our vocabulary. but yeah… it’s painfully cringe to call eyes orbs and it almost always makes me want to just stop reading your work, and I mean this with utter respect. don’t make the same mistake I made when I was an emo teenager. if you really must have to use other word that isn’t “eyes” just call them face balls or something (I’m joking, please don’t actually call them face balls). but seriously, literally anything that isn’t orbs. just… call them eyes. it’s already perfect.

don’t replace world with planet, if your work doesn’t include theme about space/sci-fi or if you’re not describing an actual planet (as in climate change towards the planet or a lost planet that’s never been found, for instance). — world and planet give readers two very different feelings. if you’re describing an antagonist, who is not a literal alien from another planet, whose plan is to corrupt or take over the world, just say world. “he knows he will watch the world burn in the end” sounds more aesthetically appealing and more professionally interesting than “he will destroy this beautiful planet” because, honestly, the latter sounds like I’m reading a fic about climate change, which yeah… unless you’re writing a fic about climate change, just avoid using the word planet in context like this and you’re good.

don’t avoid the use of Capital Letters at the beginning of a sentence and when you’re mentioning a specific name while writing a fic. you’re probably thinking I’m being the biggest hypocrite right now, because I’ve literally been deliberately using all lowercase phrases this entire post. I mean that’s because this is just a Tumblr post, not an actual AO3 fic. listen, I know writing fic is a hoppy, not a job. but if you really want to have your readers feel like they’re reading an actual novel while reading your work, I promise you the use of Capital Letters is your best friend, don’t neglect them.

*smut below the cut*

don’t replace cock with penis. I won’t go too deep here (no pun intended HELP💀) but cock sounds sexy, exciting and fun. while penis sounds like you’re describing a human anatomy during a lecture. smut is supposed to make readers feel aroused. it’s not supposed to make them feel like they’re reading a text book or are studying for an exam.

don’t replace cunt with pussy. in my very humble opinion, while talking about smut, cunt sounds explicit, raw, erotically mysterious and is overall a turn on while… I don’t know, reading the word pussy just doesn’t make me go AAAAAAHHHH the way reading the word cunt does (just my guess but maybe it’s because the word “pussy” is overused; we call everything a pussy nowadays that it just lost its meaning). also, from 99% of the smut I’ve read, it’s more professionally written if the author uses cunt instead of pussy.

***also, for the same reason why we don’t replace cock with penis in a smut fic, please don’t use the word vagina unless you’re preparing your readers for their anatomy class.