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thisliminalspacedaydreams · 3 months

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Hi, probably weird question, but can you offer any tips on how to co-write, like two different authors working on the same fic? How does that work?

hello there is actually nothing i would rather do let me give you the unabridged version because I think people romanticise it and it's important to be real. I'm going to give you all of my experiences and why I did it and which ones worked and which ones didn't.

HERE IT IS :

2-Let's start with @greenvlvetcouch who was my first duo writing experience. I was heavily part of an online thing at the time and I met him there, and we somehow (I genuinely can't remember how but I think it was me) ended up DMing about something, which actually pretty quickly evolved into me throwing a concept idea into the chat, and it just took off. We ended up losing our minds over the library scene from God Eater and that was that. I had read Zar and Jude's fic where every 15 min they switched (I think??) and I'm not a "minute" writer so I suggested to Green we did 700-1200 words each and pass it back. I also have a background in theatre, and I am part of a improv group in my city so improv games was part of my curriculum and I've always LOVED IMPROV GAMES, especially in small groups. (this is relevant for later). That's how God Eater was written. it happened very organically. We wrote it all in four months, in a doc, and didn't talk about publishing it until we realized that actually it was going to be a thing we were super proud of, that we would want to post it. The writing experience itself had none of the stress of "what if it's bad". We just wrote until we were done with no expectation. There were a lot of inconsistencies we fixed when we were done and TA-DA.

Since then Green has been a writing partner for a lot of published and unpublished works. We have several projects, some which we started and never finished because we lost the interest, some that we might publish, we don't know. I think he and I are aligned on the fact that writing is meant to be this fun thing and if the joy isn't there when writing, then the project dies. We had a LOT of really cool fun projects that only lived inside our mutual DMs and I think it still makes them real and great. They just weren't tangible enough to see the light of day. Green and I's writing process isn't *super* involved. We rarely fangirl over each other's works. I think we've reached a healthy balance of we *know* we love each other's writing, so we don't need to tell each other that. We will when a line slaps particularly well but other than that we mostly just hype the story up which is our way of saying we love working together.

Which is a perfect segway into inthesquare and I's writing process (hi I still don't know if I can tag you so imma send it to you after).

2-I'm currently writing a story with her, and our start was very different. I read this fic from hers and lost my mind. I cried and was very upset, it was such a great story, so I left a comment (as one does). What would you know, a few days later I get a comment on my fic about how she freaked out because she liked *my* work. So we literally met the most organically way possible: through ao3 comments. Then the normal pipeline happened: Tumblr, then Discord, then Whatsapp.

I wrote one fic that felt very much like something she would do and asked her to participate and add bits and bobs, she said yes, I was overjoyed. And then a few months ago I popped in and was like... *you like myths, right?* and TADA we have the amaranth hymns.

The writing process with us is very different. We each write until we're done with a scene (which usually ends up capping at 1500/2000 words-ish). We are posting as we go, we have 0 plan, zero foresight, we're just hoping for the best, rocking with a Pinterest board and voice noting each other at 3am going "hey do what was this thing you wrote and what does it mean?" "oh cool" "and so does this mean that X? Cuz we need to Y then" "Yes, right". We're problem solving as we go, and I think we're both kind of unbothered and unstressed about it: the story will write itself, we're just along for the ride. We also don't really hype each other up (a little ya know, when a line slaps), but we *do* talk about the fic itself a lot, which I think is our way of showing our engagement. We talk about the fic because we like writing it (I have a point to make later on bear with me).

3- You remember how i LOVE improve games, right????? WELL. There is a game called the "yes" game. A scene starts, you have a theme and a concept and you can't backtrack. Whatever the person throws your way you have to work with it....hence the "yes". You can only move forward, never back. That's how Raise Hell was created. I asked a bunch of my friends if they wanted to create a frankenstein fic, some said yes, some said no, and Raise Hell got started. I knew all of these people beforehand, so that made it easier. We still want to finish this fic but ya know, life got away from us.

What ended up happening is that there were no "writing" rule aside from : you must write enough to propel the next person. Give the next person *something* to work with. So what accidentally ended up happening is each person ended up writing a chapter.

Now let's talk about the rest:

As stated before, I love writing with people: I have the bandwith to work on numerous fics at once (it keeps my brain fed and entertained, I like the community of it), I like it, and thus I seek it.

But I think (and THIS is my point) that people romanticise it and it can stress people out. This is what I mean:

I started writing fics with several other writers because *I like it and I seek it and it brings me joy*, but some writers didn't like feeling like they were one in a lineup.

I wrote 30k with a writer and then the story died and we never picked it back up.

I have had two people I was writing with tell me they didn't like it because I wasn't 'involved' enough (by this I think what they meant was that I wasn't showing enough hype and enthusiasm for their writing).

I had one person tell me that our writing didn't match up and it felt weird and they didn't want to continue.

I have had one person tell me I hurt their feelings because I made them feel like their writing wasn't good enough by the way I edited.

I think it's important to mention that co-writing *is* a skill and it's not something that will work for everyone.

I have a graveyard of fics and a few friendships that died because of that, too. I'm not a big hyper. I do edit a lot. I show my enthusiasm in ways that perhaps isn't obvious enough. I don't praise other people's writing that much because in my mind, the fact we're writing together is proof enough that I love their writing, but that actually isn't always enough.

And I think the difficult part of all of this is that writing is a very personal endeavour. When you expose your guts to another person and they do not react the way you want them to, it's not very easy I think to say "Hey, you hurt my feelings because you didn't tell me you loved this and that". That's another layer exposed and because talking about hurt feelings is hard and uncomfortable, sometimes it will drag on and take proportions that lead to broken friendships.

So you do have to be careful.

...But I also don't know how, in the sense that *before* you start writing with someone, you won't *know* how they will react to the duo process.

What I'm saying is it' a gamble and actually I have lost more than I have won, BUT I still don't regret trying. I personally have had good experiences every single time. I have grown and I have learned.

I know for instance that writing with Green and Inthesquare is a great experience because we approach writing in the same way and we are all very confident in our own writing. We like how we write. We like how the other person writes. We know that, we don't feel the need to say it.

But I think I tend to forget that some writers (even really good ones!!) can feel self-conscious about their own writing and need more praise than what I give.

So bearing all that in mind here is my advice:

-Talk about what you need from the experience BEFOREHAND. How much hype, can I edit, how much editing can I do, etc etc. When green and I edit our works, we fully destroy each other's parts. We will go in and add and remove a LOT, to the point where it really becomes kind of undetectable, who wrote what, because we're in each other's lines everywhere. This isn't something that will feel good for everyone. When I write with inthesquare, we *barely* edit each other's work. The separation is much more obvious, and I don't really know why this is? It just is? We just kind of never edited the other person's part. And it works really beautifully, too. My point is these are two very different approach yet there isn't one better than the other, it's just different.

Some people do not like when you tinker with their writing too much. Some people do not like when you tinker with their writing at all. Make sure you know what each person is comfy with.

-Decide on a plan: are we writing each for a set amount of time? Of words? Are we each doing a chapter? The only rule is the one you make up.

-Don't put pressure on the work. See where it goes. If it dies, let it.

-I would advise against posting as you go if this stresses you out. That way if the story doesn't finish, no stress.

-Start with someone who you feel very confident writing with. Someone you know, who knows you, where the communication canals are OPEN. You're gonna need to be able to tell each other if someone does something that wasn't appreciated.

Not all co-writing will end up with a fully fledged fic. Not all co-writing will end up being a good experience. If the person you really want to write with doesn't want to write with you, don't take it personally. It just do be like that.

But I'm the kind of person who really has come to love it, and while I'm a lot more picky now with who I write (because I'd love to like, not lose more friends), I think I will always seek it out, especially with the people with whom it's been a success before. I love, love, loveeeeee writing with my friends. I find it so rewarding and fun and great and I have nothing bad to say about it. I just really, really love it.

And if you've made it till here just know I have ONE fic I wrote with 2 other writers that we published under anon. and it's just out there. Doing its thing.

#mar gives the morning news #on writing #cowriting #co writing

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andypantsx3 · 2 years

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so yesterday when you posted about Class 1-A vs The Curse of Rule 34 i immediately read it and i loved it and so i read a few of their other fics and loved them and so i was wondering if you have any more fic recs that you’d like to share? it could be reader insert, oc or neither tbh i just trust your judgement in fics so i’m sure anything you recommend will be great! (also i love your writing so much i stumbled upon it multiple times in a03 and then tumblr just to realize it was yours before i decided to follow you (i tend to be really picky on who i follow idk why) because i went through your masterlist an read everything and then re-read everything)

Ahhh hello my love, I am honored by your follow!! You're literally so sweet and I can't tell you how much it means to me that I made the cut lol. Please don't feel pressure though, I'm always happy with just an occasional visit too!!

I definitely recommend anything in my fic recs tag - the fics I recommend here on tumblr are generally character x reader or character x OC and they range from smutty to fluffy lol.

My guilty pleasure though, and the majority of my fave fics are gen or ship fics!! I actually hardly ever read x reader fic--absolutely no idea why I am this way--but if you're up for some gen or ship fic, I'm happy to rec a couple others.

I'm not sure what you're into at the moment but I will give you some of my faves!!

Don't Ask Don't Tell by Ms_Chunks Bakugou/Uraraka. I probably don’t even need to describe this one since this is the flagship Kacchako fic lol. But Bakugou and Uraraka explore the compatibility of their quirks and create a pair combat style, and fall in love along the way. I fucking love the way the author uses the chemistry of their quirks to parallel the compatibility of their personalities, and Uraraka is such a bad ass in this one ughghgh I love it.

who lives, who dies, who tells your story by aloneintherain Todoroki/Midoriya, though mostly gen. Examines Toshinori’s life post-retirement and the exploits of class 1-A post-graduation, through narrative and social media blurbs. I’ve never read anything that manages to be so bittersweet, so hopeful, and so funny all at once.

Thanks for Saving Me by Esselle Todoroki/Midoriya. This is a pro hero Shouto/quirkless science nerd Deku fic that is one of my all time faves. This is the type of shit my fics wish they were doing. This author is out here peddling the slightly-sugar-daddy-but-also-slightly-a-little-bit-of-a-shit Shouto agenda and it is absolute perfection. I routinely reread for comfort.

Slow to Start (But Quick to Burn) by mousapelli Kirishima/Bakugou. It's an ABO AU where omega Bakugou slowly figures out how to manage his relationship to alpha Kirishima, while Kirishima is predictably kind, patient, and understanding. This fic is totally stuffed full of domesticity--lounging around doing laundry and homework together, baking together, and napping together. Actually my all-time fave comfort fic, I have read this probably a million times.

journey to the past by aloneintherain Gen fic. A time travel fic where the members of Class 1-A go back in time to protect Izuku during the various stages of his life, as villains with a time travel quirk attempt to target the future number one hero while he's still a kid. It's so good and sweet and heartfelt and lovely and the author does an amazing job exploring Izuku's relationship with several of the major characters.

And probably a fic rec closest to the Rule 34 rec would be:

A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF by kewltie Bakugou/Midoriya. This is a social media fic similar in style to Class 1-A vs The Curse of Rule 34--it’s a youtuber AU where bkdk are youtubers in different genres, and the internet has a conspiracy theory that they’re together. Another really good send up of fandom and fandom culture, and another one of my faves.

I hope at least one of these is something you're in the mood for!! And please send some of your faves my way!! I'm a slow reader but literally always open to more recs!! 💕💕💕

#bnha fic recs #ask andie #fic recs

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girls-are-weird · 1 year

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I know people say comments on the fic site are more effective than, say, rbing the announcement post on tumblr, but I only read your work on ffnet. Would you say that rule still applies when the fic site itself is pretty much dead and an rb would reach a wider audience?

well, i guess it depends on what you mean by “effective.” like, what is the ultimate goal? is it to share this fic you loved with others, or is it to let the author know how much you loved it? both are worthy goals, certainly.

as an author, i love comments. i love when people tell me how much they liked my stories, what their favorite scenes/moments were, or when they react in the comments as they read. even people who just leave a random sequence of emojis i can't ever hope to decipher (which happens a lot more often than you'd think 😄). it always makes me squeal, and it really does encourage me to keep writing. never underestimate how motivating a positive comment can be, especially for those of us whose life is really kicking our butts at the moment to the point where finding time in a hectic schedule to write something we're not getting paid for is an odyssey onto itself. it's always nice to know people are reading your stuff and liking it, but it's GREAT when they like it SO MUCH that they just absolutely HAVE to let you know how much it moved them. that's a special thing.

that's not to say other forms of reader engagement aren't lovely. kudos on AO3, for example, are fantastic, and they're a way to let the author know you're reading and enjoying. sometimes i'll post something late at night (i always post at ridiculous hours of the night because i'm in australia) then go to bed, and when i wake up in the morning i'll have like… one comment. and that's a little sad. but if i have a ton of kudos as well, that makes it better. it makes it feel like people are reading my fic/chapter and i'm not just sitting here halfway across the world, screaming into the void. so i'm not discounting kudos at all. some of my least-commented fics are also my most-kudos'd ones. but put it this way: kudos and likes are a bit like:

whereas a comment would be like:

and while i don't LIKE this, per se, it's also true that comments/kudos are a bit of a mark of popularity. i know people who look at the number of comments on a fic to tell them something about the quality of the fic and help them decide whether they should read it or not-- the idea being that fics with more comments are fics that people love more, or that more people love. it's also like that with kudos a little bit, but it takes a higher ratio of kudos to comments to produce the same effect as just having a decent number of comments would. and in FFN, where there are no kudos, comments are DEFINITELY much more of a "quality" marker. (which is a shame, because there are some gems out there that just don't get much traction for whatever reason, but that doesn't mean they're not great, and more people should read them.)

as for reblogs here on tumblr, i absolutely understand what you mean, and honestly, sharing the fic with other people might lead to more comments in the long run, so it's not like they're mutually exclusive. but in that same vein, why do you have to choose one or the other? sometimes when people reblog my posts, they leave short little comments in the tags (or even in the body of the post itself), and those never fail to make me smile. and if you don't want to do that, you can always just message authors directly to let them know how much you enjoyed their work-- it's not for nothing that we list all of our (ginormous list of) social media in our author's notes, and i guarantee you no author will ever be mad to receive a little note about their fic, even if it's just something simple like "hey, i just read your fic and wanted to tell you i really loved it. 🙂" it means a lot because it's an extra step that you didn't need to take, but you did take it, and that makes it all the more significant.

but of course, if you don't feel comfortable engaging in conversation, a reblog or a like or just kudos are more than welcome. (you can also leave kudos on AO3 as a guest, btw! you don't need to have an account or even identify yourself in any way.) i just want to reiterate, because i've gone through this recently and have had this happen many, many times through my years in fandom: it is so, SO important for us fanfic authors to know that someone out there is reading and enjoying our stuff. it can be very dispiriting to publish something you've been putting all your effort and blood, sweat, and tears, and emotional stability into, and get little engagement in return. any engagement is lovely, and i'm not saying that authors should depend on engagement to keep writing because i certainly don't, but some forms of it can be more impersonal than others, and also aren't as constructive when it comes to helping us better our craft. so please keep that in mind when you read, that there's someone on the other end of this story you loved that would love to know that you loved it.

tl;dr-- reblogs and likes and shares are great, and i adore any kind of engagement, and you should only do as much as you're comfortable with. giving the fic more exposure is certainly a worthy goal, and much appreciated. but comments/reviews are a step beyond "this was cool, cheers" as a ways for us authors to gauge audience enthusiasm, and they don't only come in the form of a formal comment/review as the fanfic-publishing platforms would have you think, either. there are many other ways to let authors know what you thought about their work… including in reblogs… so it would be fantastic if more people took advantage of those avenues, because it really can make a fanfic author's day/week/month/year when they get a little comment from their readers. and you never know, maybe they needed something to make them smile at that exact moment. ❤️️

#cali writes #fanfiction #fanworks #AO3 #fanfiction.net #give a little love to your favorite fanfic authors folks #reply

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inscrutable-shadow · 1 year

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WIP Intro: An Umbral Arena

An Umbral Arena by Coy Chambers

part of the ieiunusverse series

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Sci-fi, New Adult, LGBTQ+, Whump

Estimated Length: 50-70k

Features: Lady Whump, Vampires, Lesbians, Vampire Lesbians, Thanatos is a Wife Guy, Rhys is Wondering Why He is Even Here, The Author is Aware Avrae is a Mary Sue, Homosexual Pining, Stoic Whumpees, Rival Teams, Environmental Whump, Team Combat, Field Medicine

Posting: On Tumblr and AO3! Not going to commit to a schedule because it's me, but hoping to have at least one chapter out a month! (my chapters can be between 4k and 10k so it'll be worth the wait I swear)

Summary:

Avrae's always been a soldier. She is now very firmly retired, of course, content to casually hunt petty criminals and read gothic literature, but when the closest person she has to an "old friend" knocks at her door, does she really have a choice but to drop everything and risk her life in an intergalactic blood-sporting competition she will almost certainly fail to return from? Of course not. The Umbral Arena is designed to break you down until you can't pick yourself up again, but the biggest challenge will be managing a collection of vampires who unequivocally hate each other and keep them working as a unit until it's complete. There really is no rest for the wicked.

Cast:

Avrae Tenebrus - (she/they genderfluid bi lesbian) - two thousand years old and about tired of your bullshit, a mall goth/punk who values getting a job done and having fun while you're doing it (and if you can't, getting it over with as quickly as possible)

Beatrice Nocta - (she/her cis demiromantic lesbian who doesn't know it yet) - six thousand years old and has spent five thousand of those in administration, a victorian goth who values stoicism and practicality, sponsor of the Arena team

Thanatos Iuventus - (he/him cis? homoromantic bisexual) - four thousand years old and not intending on cutting that short any time soon, a dark academic who'd much rather be writing a philosophy treatise than anything involving being stabbed or shot at, dedicated Wife Guy whose husband is the manifestation of Reality itself so write that down, have you seen aer? look this is my husband isn't ae beautiful?

Rhys Velancier - (he/him cis bisexual) - a fresh-faced five hundred year old on the field trip of a lifetime, happy to be anywhere he gets to slash open arteries with his scythe

Emsy O'Connor - (they/them) - the twenty-nine year old empty-shell reader insert from the original ieiunus has a bit more personality than a reader insert should really have, an aspiring novelist working as a barista who sucks in any and all supernatural-related knowledge

World Eater Less - (it/its) - a sentient singularity orphaned at a young (for a singularity) age, fond of Rhys and consuming new objects to understand them

The Archfey, Reality - (ae/aer) - the manifestation of Reality itself/one of the Twin Divines, Thanatos' partner and host for Emsy and Less during the events of the Arena

and more....

Excerpt:

"What do you need so badly that you'd give me a transwarp and a second hunting planet to get it for you?" Beatrice takes a sip of Blanc, steadying herself. She'd probably rather be anywhere but here begging Avrae for help. Av doesn't talk about other vampires much, but from what I can tell, they kind of hate each other by nature. "My house is dying." ... "You need the prize… Bea, it could kill you." "Yes. It could." "We'd probably be destroyed before we ever got that far." "It's possible." "You're sure about this? This isn't something you can back out from." "I am aware of the risks. I have offered sufficient compensation for the assumption that you are also aware of them." ... "I'll do it. Not for the hunting planet, obviously. For you."

Tag List:

@albatris, @robinbugbanned, @painful-pooch, @milkshakes-lust-and-chiral-dust, @thethistlegirl

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

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thelordofgifs · 1 year

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@butterflies-and-fishermen I was so touched by your tags on the latest instalment of the fairest stars (the AU bullet point fic “Beren and Lúthien steal two Silmarils and things snowball” I’ve been posting to tumblr in irregular instalments, for people who missed it) that I thought I’d make a separate post to respond to them here, I hope that’s ok!

#but! But!#Celegorm may be doomed according to Oath rules#but this can't just be a tragedy#(bawling my eyes out)#if the Oath turns you into the worst version of yourself and takes what good you have left#then Celegorm died as a hunter of evil#not a predator of the weak#he gave his life for a worthy cause#for his friend#the Oath too was sacrificed#instead of being the altar on which everything was sacrificed#They will meet again#But even hound and hunter battling Carcharoth together for eternity in the void is a sweeter ending

You’re so right!! Killing Celegorm felt a bit cruel but ultimately I thought it was a much kinder ending for him than his canonical one. I wasn’t even intending to have him reunite with Huan initially (he wasn’t supposed to BE in the fic originally, but he insisted); but when I realised I could actually have something of a reconciliation with Huan for him, I couldn’t resist letting him die fighting evil. As a hunter of evil specifically (I’m so glad you used that phrase!), which calls back to his old role as one of Oromë’s following. (Yes, I totally did that intentionally, it wasn’t an accidental thing which ended up turning out neat, no not at all, why do you ask?)

But what I really wanted to address here was the Oath, and whether it really does “turn you into the worst version of yourself, and strip away the best thing you have left”. This is Maedhros’ line, which Maglor has also echoed in his conversation with Lúthien – importantly, though, Maglor added that he wasn’t sure whether or not he believed it. Do I, the author? Is that how the Oath works? That’s something I haven’t fully decided yet (although it is a fun idea to meta about, there’s been great discourse about the Oath recently) and probably shouldn’t reveal anyway because of spoilers. But I wonder how clearly it’s come across that the Maedhros of TFS wow look it has an ACRONYM it’s all grown up is… not always mentally in the best place. It’s not nearly as bad as it gets in canon – this is pre-Nirnaeth! But he still has so much Angband-related trauma, being chained up by Thingol was incredibly triggering for him, he’s very upset by his little brothers’ terrible deeds in Nargothrond, and he spent like five parts convinced he wouldn’t be able to hold a Silmaril – baselessly, as it turned out. Maedhros is very afraid of himself, and of the Oath. So take that line of his with a pinch of salt! The Oath might have turned Celegorm into the worst version of himself, and taken his best thing (his dog), but he both redeemed himself a little and got to reunite with Huan. Maedhros, for his part, has so far managed to avoid doing anything deeply terrible, and his own “best thing” (Maglor) hasn’t died.

As for Celegorm being doomed according to Oath rules – I’m unsure how relevant that will end up being in TFS, since I haven’t planned that far ahead (or at all lol). But after quite a few months of thinking, I came across the most beautiful line in this beautiful fic by @thearrogantemu: “Everlasting Darkness! As if darkness were a thing that could last!”

… which sums up my feelings better than I ever could.

OKAY I now need to apologise to: both the people I tagged completely unprompted in this rambly self-indulgent navel-gazing post about my own fic; my followers who assuredly did not ask for this pseudo-dvd commentary; readers of TFS who haven’t caught up on the last part and are now spoiled; and anyone who hasn’t read TFS and has no idea what’s going on here (quite intrigued by what you make of it with no context, though).

#silmarillion #the fairest stars #oath of feanor #the line of miriel #I will evidently take literally any opportunity to provide my thoughts on this au #and I’m only a bit sorry

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sansxfuckyou · 1 year

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I'm sure they don't fit like that

Summary: He doesn't realize it, but lack of being able to make time for his old habit is driving him insane, he only realizes when Twilight complains that his outfit is a bit torn.

Warnings: Stress, the smallest bit of blood, the measuring for sewing got intimate, check tags for further warnings.

Authors Note: It's been a good long while since I last wrote for LOZ/LU of any kind, but I've been missing writing about them since I stopped, and yes if it feels like its getting to sex it is not because I planned to post this on Tumblr, and reblogs are always appreciated.

Warriors has been stressed lately.

He doesn't know where it comes from, or why he feels so volatile, but his fingers feel numb and so does his brain. Sparring won't lighten his mood, cooking won't make him calm down, sleeping isn't an option anymore. His teammates can't ease frayed nerves either, he just, hasn't been able to hold it together, and its driving him up the walls and down the mental abyss.

His fingers pluck at frayed nerves, his teeth bite at dry lips, his eyes dart back and forth, his pain receptors are dulled, his appetite is nothing.

And he doesn't know how to fix it.

He doesn't like that he doesn't know how to fix himself.

---

Warriors is sitting on a log, rummaging through his bag as Twilight cooks a simple meal. His jacket is full of stitches that go off seam into the domain of where tears once frequented, he wishes he had patches for the larger tears back then. He eventually hits something, retracting his hand with a hiss, he doesn't second guess trying to grab it again; he's greeted with a spool of brown thread, a needle lodged into it.

He rolls it around in his hand, after removing the needle, his shaking stops, if only he had something to stitch, something to fix. He's so fixated on the reel of thread, its actually embroidery floss on closer inspection, he doesn't notice Twilight sitting beside him. The smallest ooze of crimson spills into the brown from where his thumb was pricked, its neat how it absorbs the fluid.

"You good?" Twilight asked, placing a hand on Warriors shoulder, catching his attention as he shuffles to put down the thread, sliding the needle through the fabric of his pants so it won't fall to the ground.

"I'm fine, just, shaky," Warriors said, running a hand through his hair, blonde, somehow well kept and unkempt at the same time, no one really knew how though; he didn't realize it, but he was already reaching for the spool of thread again, "hows the food coming along?"

"It'll be done by the time everyone finishes getting supplies, that I'm sure of, although I must ask, why do you have thread and needle in your bag?" Twilight asked as he shed his green tunic, he normally never took it off, but recently a tear formed due to heavy usage of the garment, and the frayed thread was really starting to get to him.

"I sewed a lot, during war times that is, to keep me distracted from the carnage," Warriors answered with, Twilight nodded, gently placing hands on top of his teammates when they started to shake again as the bloodshed slowly replayed itself inside his head, "it's simple, easy, puts you in a trance, nothing really matters aside from the fact you're fixing something, and sometimes making something."

"I get that, it, it sounds a lot like when I cook," Twilight said, lifting his hands when Warriors stopped shaking and breathing and slowed down again, it didn't speed up much either, "if, you feel alright could you fix this tear for me?"

Twilight handed his tunic to Warriors who held the rough fabric gingerly in his hands, he knew it was durable, he knew it had been through so much, but he also knew everything was delicate under a sharp edge. He flipped it around, searching for the tear, when he found it, his eyes widened, it sat under the fur, and it was much larger than expected, did he even have enough thread to fix it? He slid his arms along both sides of the inner fabric, pulling them apart to get a handle on how he should try to mimic it in the fix. How long the thread should hold it apart, how tight he needed to keep it, how loose it needed to stay for comfort, little things.

"Sure, yeah, of course I can, easy fix if I have a patch," Warriors said before folding the tunic, setting it down beside him as he search his bad, looking for an older patch of fabric, finding a spare one of his own tunics and a pair of fabric shears. He held up the somewhat hefty scissors in his left hand and his own tunic in his other hand, he grimaced as he held up the scissors, Twilight stopped him.

"It's fine, you don't have to, its more important that you have a spare tunic," Twilight said, Warriors felt a bit belittled at the statement.

"I said I would fix it, didn't I? Besides this tunic has a bloodstain that refuses to come out and I'll never wear it again," Warriors said, he was lying, lying so much, but he just needed to cleave his tunic in twain so he could make the patches before he changed his mind, "I can't let you go walking around with your tunic in that shape either way."

"Okay, I have to go tend to the food before its ruined," Twilight said before standing up and brushing down his clothes, it was weird not wearing his tunic, he felt stripped of protection without it, but Warriors was making it more secure.

Warriors slowly clipped along the thread line of his tunic, he had done this before, but he was used to the garments being a bit more destroyed when he butchered them into patches and pieces. He separated sleeves from the bodice, he could use them as gauze later on, he clipped a chunk of fabric from the green and lined it up to the tear in Twilights tunic on the inside. The fabric had different colors, Twilights was a lot less limey than Warriors, and the texture was different as well due to durability.

"You're not sensitive to certain textures, right?" Warriors asked, the fabric of his tunic was smooth, and he knew that Four was highly sensitive to certain textures, he just wanted to make sure that Twilight wouldn't mind.

"Some of them, yes, the fabric you have is fine though," Twilight answered with, tone absent as he sipped at the broth the meat was now braising in, refusing to explain why he was so sure of that fact, Warriors didn't know why.

"Cool, thanks," Warriors said as he clipped down the patch, rooting through his bag for more pins to hold it in place, pulling the small tin out of his bag, holding a few between his teeth before removing them to speak again, "why do you know that my tunic is a good texture?"

"Bad fight, you were knocked unconscious, my outfit was mostly shredded but nothing more, everyone else was to weak to carry you, so I did, not the most pleasant experience to bleed out on someone as you stumble back to safety, but you were clutching onto me for the most part, so I had to deal with the texture, its quiet nice I must say," Twilight explained, barely pausing as he did, focusing more on finding the garlic powder in his bag, groaning when he realized it spilled at the bottom of his bag; he shook out his last empty journal over the pot of broth to get the last bit flavor missing, "hope that didn't come across as weird, cause you look kind of shook."

"No, no I'm fine, just let me know later on if its bugging you, by then we might have some more fabric to work with," Warriors said, pulling his gaze away from The Hero of Twilight upon realizing he was staring, he started to thread the needle, getting it on the first try even though his hands still shook a bit.

He pulled thread through fabric, pushing the needle harder when he came across the parts where the fabric thickened. It was really, really soothing, and he didn't understand exactly why it was putting him back together, but he wasn't complaining either. He just kept on stitching, kept on relaxing, unaware of the soft smile on his face, unaware that he had stopped shaking, only vaguely aware of the fact he had started humming. Watching as he brought two things together, relishing in the fact he could fix it, therapeutic repeated motions, it didn't last forever but he still loved it.

When he realized he was done patching up the tunic, he noticed how still he was, how calm his breathing was, how good he felt. He held up the tunic, it looked fine, he flipped it inside out, still fine, he clipped the loose thread, the brown stood out against green, no one would see it though.

"Your tunics done," Warriors said, grabbing Twilights attention from the food he was transferring to a surface that wouldn't cook it any further, he smiled a bit."

"Thanks, really, haven't had a good tunic in ages," Twilight said as he walked over to Warriors who handed him the tunic, he slid it over top of his undershirt, it still fit snug, and the transition between patch and original fabric was smooth, he barely noticed, "still fits perfectly."

"Good to know my skill haven't gone out of use, yet, but, I am a bit worried that it might be chafing in certain spots due to the way its designed, if I find my tape measure could I take your measurements to make sure I can fix it?" Warriors asked, spinning the needle between his fingers like one would with a pencil, avoiding Twilights judging gaze.

"I suppose, although I think its supposed to fit snug," Twilight said as he tugged on his tunic, although, now that Warriors had presented the possibility of it fitting wrong, it wouldn't leave his mind that it did fit wrong.

"Twilight, no, take off your fucking shirts, now," Warriors demanded as he started to rifle through his bag for the tape measure, he needed to make sure his teammate wasn't wearing improperly fitted outfits, they were uncomfortable.

"What?" Twilight asked rapidly, very confused as he reached to pull his tunic off again, following whatever train of though Warriors was having.

"Or don't, the approximation will be close enough," Warriors said as he held up the yellow tape, smiling a bit as he trotted over to Twilight, unfurling the roll and pressing it gently to Twilights chest, across the pectorals, he pulled it roughly in the back, eliciting a stumble, "hold still so I don't mess this up, imbecile."

"Sorry, but I've never had someone take my measurements before, so this is really weird," Twilight barked at Warriors who smirked, used to reactions like this when he would resize outfits for his companions in the wars, he noticed the tint on Twilights face.

"Don't make it sexual man," Warriors said with a smug grin as he memorized the number, releasing his tape measure before lowering it down, pulling it tight around Twilights waist, he got a sharp sounding intake of air, "I still have at least one measurement to take so sit tight."

A prompt nod and he jostled the measuring tape to make sure it stayed straight all around, he took the number, one he didn't expect if he was being honest. This was always one of the more awkward measurements to take, but to try and keep his dignity he stood at Twilights side before hooping it around his hips, a visible tense. He tried to make it quick, he really did, but he just kept on telling himself it could be worse; he got the number and rolled it up.

"You can put your tunic on again," Warriors said as he jotted down the notes in the back of his journal, he would have to measurements for everyone soon enough, their outfits could get ruined, and he was the only one who knew how to sew, "sorry about that, just be glad I'm not altering trousers."

"And why is that?" Twilight asked as he sat next to Warriors, holding his tunic tightly instead of wearing it.

"For trousers you have to take the inner leg measurement, that one is really hard to take without feeling horrible about doing it," Warriors explained as he played with the tape measure, "would you be okay if I took the measurements for your shoulders as well, they look a bit wider than an average Hylians."

"Sure, should I take off my undershirt so it'll be a better measurement?" Twilight asked, reaching to pull it off, Warriors shook his head.

"Approximations will be fine for now, I'll get proper measurements sometime later," Warriors said as he gently wrapped the tape measure around Twilights shoulders, tugging as the Hylian straightened his posture, the measure was just above average, "done, alterations should be finished by the end of the week, or when I run out of supplies, whichever comes first."

"You really don't have to do this for me," Twilight said, handing his tunic to Warriors who started to measure the fabric, aware he would have to add seam allowance for the hemming.

"Incorrect, you came to me, I said I would do it, so I'm doing it all the way through," Warriors said, humming a little bit, the rest of The Chain was starting to trickle back in as well, right on time as Twilight started to serve the meal, broth that had been reducing for a while a gravy over the tear apart meat.

All of them sat together by the fire, food kept warm, gravy kept liquid, everyone complimented the flavor. It was a quiet buzz of conversation going on between everyone, and everyone could tell Warriors wasn't stressed anymore.

"What did you two do while we were gone?" Hyrule asked, smirking a bit, letting his thoughts run wild.

"Sewing," Warriors said absently as he started to work on Twilights tunic as the wolfish Hylian answered Hyrules question, guiding the conversation away from Warriors.

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kazeofthemagun · 1 year

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Why did the author kill you off?

[tagged: because tumblr decided to drag Kira's post from the depths of December]

[tagging: anyone who wants to 💜 buuut I wanna see @knightshonour and @muddsludge take this one in particular for reasons]

Kuroki Kaze - Morals=Mortality

"Every story has themes, with lessons within those themes. Your death was in service of one (or more) of these, your life made forfeit in favor of imparting wisdom... or what the author presented as wisdom. Were you too kind? Too trusting? Too forgiving? Did a cruel author kill you to prove that happy endings do not exist? Or were you too proud to ask for help? Too angry to let the past go? Did the author hold a mirror up to the protagonist, showing them your death where the reflection was supposed to go? On one hand, your death is pitiable, for it does not belong to you. On the other, you have been granted a gift many spend their whole lives searching for: A purpose. May you find comfort and truth within the circumstances of your demise (and may we all)."

[A friend is going through the show so I can't discuss in tags, so here:]

[Be it his in-show death or his actual final death whenever he manages to achieve his mission (or not 🙃) Kaze's character has always been about symbolism, as well as about his juxtaposition to Kumo. It was always about rising up after devastating circumstances, pursuing a singular goal, but also being careful not to lose oneself in the process.]

[During the series, Kaze has all but lost his mind trying to hunt down Kumo, and his steady journey of regaining his compassion led to the final confrontation with Tyrant. Though we now know he survived as he was immortal, this was not entirely obvious in the show, and his and Kumo's deaths both were interpreted as final by many. For Kaze's character, it was the culmination of that journey, of finding the truth of Windaria's fall, of forgiveness and setting his sights on the true enemy - to protect, not only destroy. In that moment, Chaos became his purpose, awakening the wounded Magun, and from then on out Black Wind would be bound to his foe for eternity. Destined for war even before he was ever born, for how can a gun ever exist outside of combat?]

[And that is also why Chaos' death means the deaths of Kaze and Kumo as well. Dragged into a far-too-long life, the resolution of this conflict will be the only thing that allows these Weapon-chained spirits to rest.]

[Kaze's heart is bound to the trigger - and once the final shot from the Demon Gun has been fired - there will be no more need for it to keep beating.]

#ffu spoilers #[[muse meme #more thoughts about this tragic character because I will ramble about him forever

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lixiepeach · 2 years

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(Same anon here) It’s very interesting to me to see so many authors stop writing because of a lack of interaction because I completely understand why that’s disheartening but also I never personally feel that the feedback I could give would make anyone want to write more, I just don’t think my opinion means that much. In a way I’m very ignorant into what motivates fanfic writers to want to continue. I also don’t have an active tumblr account so the best I can do is read something I like and bookmark it for later

As someone who’s never even attempted to write because they have no talent I’m so in awe of people who are able to do that and out their work out there, and it’s so sad to hear that fics aren’t doing well. My feedback for the particular fic you were writing is that it hooked me instantly and your writing style is what I always look for in something to read. Truth be told I’ve been checking ao3 for an update every day since the last chapter but how could you know that until I tell you?

Regardless of my opinion/feedback it doesn’t sound like you’re in a good place to be writing, and I truly hope you can feel better soon because what you have written is phenomenal and I’m sorry that you haven’t been getting the interaction you deserve.

Interaction. Interaction is what makes fic writers want to continue to write. That's why we keep practically begging for it. That's why writers keep leaving this site, why they're not writing anymore is because we're getting to interaction. Reblog things. Send messages/asks/put things in the tags that you liked about it. If you don't have an active account, send anons like this. All you have to do is go on anon, send an ask and say "I loved (insert title here)" and you will make a fic writers day.

I see that a lot that people don't know what to say or they don't think anything they have to say matters. It does. It matters a lot. A heart emoji, a keyboard smash, literally "I loved it." Every comment I get (that's not a negative one) I read over and over and over even if it's just an unintelligible keyboard smash because I elicited that reaction from someone because of what I made. There's thousands of posts out there about how to comment, how to interact with fics if you're unsure of how to do it. You don't have to do like a book review with three paragraphs picking out every little detail you liked. Some people do that and bless them but it's not necessary. Just telling a writer you loved their work is enough to make them want to keep writing because they know someone liked it.

I appreciate your feedback. I'm really glad you've been enjoying the story and it's made you want to go back and look for an update all the time. It's really nice to hear that people are enjoying it. I mean, I could look at the hits to see how many people have viewed it but I can't tell how many of those people read it, liked it, keep going back or if they all just clicked it, read two paragraphs and left because they didn't. We can't see specifics on views on Tumblr or Ao3, just how many people have clicked on the story and how many each month. So hearing that you've been going back to it to check it means a lot.

I'll be okay. I'm just not really in the writing mood right now. I've got a lot going on in my life and I'm gonna get really busy soon so I don't know when I'll be writing again. Could be tomorrow, could be months from now. I honestly can't say.

#sorry this took like four days to get to #like i said there's a lot going on #and i really wanted to have a well thought out answer

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kwritingbooks · 2 years

Text

jealousy [part I]

concept: you decided the ending fate of you two’s 3 year long relationship. but now that it’s gone, why are you the one who’s sad and harry is perfectly fine? so fine that he’s already in a new relationship three months later?

three years, the prologue

pairing: ex-boyfriend!harry and fem!reader

warnings: cursing, alcohol mentions, sexual situations, 18+ content in general

word count: 6.5k

author’s note: hey everyone! i originally was just going to make this a one-shot (and who knows, maybe i’ll just keep it as this one part) but i wanted to mess around with doing a mini-fic! i wanted an angsty, slightly heart-wrenching, fic and i loved this concept so i hope you guys do, too!

tumblr masterlist here + wattpad here

impulse

You would admit the scrolling down his feed had gone too far. At first, it was purely out of curiosity. Then it became just check-ups; to see if anything big had changed in his life. That was when you first saw her. She was beautiful. She was perfect. From the way her hair sat on her shoulders, always catching the light in just the right spot, down to her freshly manicured hands that never once chipped.

But it had only been three months. Three months after three years spent together.

You wondered how they met, let alone how they met so quickly. Even though you were the one to break things off, it was hard wrapping your mind around the fact he was over it and on to the next already. After all those times you saw him practically beg for you to come back into his life, all of a sudden it meant nothing.

Was this a mind game? Did he know you would see her on his feed? He had to have known that you would have checked on him. You wondered if he checked on you, too.

You hadn't posted anything but risqué Instagram posts since. All you got in response were comments and DMs from guys you had no interest in. No interest because none of them made you feel as safe and loved like he did. You really took his care for granted.

You also wanted to express to the world your newfound freedom after all this time. It wasn't like you wanted to post those things, but he looked so carefree himself. He used to never post, but all of a sudden that was all he seemed to do. You wanted to seem like you were okay from the separation just like he was.

Social media had never been about telling the truth anyway.

Whether he was out camping, getting drinks, or at some party – he was posting about it. It almost made you feel insane. You were the one that agreed on this after all, right? Why did you care?

Maybe he was posting to seem unaffected, too. But you saw the smiles he shared online, the same ones you used to cause. He used to look at you the same way he did towards her. He couldn't fake that, no matter how hard you wanted to believe it.

It didn't matter. The next thing you knew, you swiped away from his Instagram page, loading up an application that you used to swear off on. 'I just don't get the point. Why can't people just go out and socialize like normal fuckin' people' had been your exact words.

You were a hypocrite and that was fine. You were self-aware after all.

"Ew," you scoffed aloud as you swiped left on a multitude of men in a row. No one seemed to meet your high expectations. It was hard not to compare everyone to your last love, whether in looks or personality.

But the desperation to find someone was at an all-time high tonight. You had only a few hours before you needed to get ready to head to the party. A party that a mutual friend of you and Harry's was throwing. Originally you didn't want to go, but you decided last minute you would.

You didn't have to ask if he was going, you knew he would be. You also knew that that pretty doe-eyed girl would be tagging along by his side, and you refused to show up alone. It would also give you a reason to meet her in person. What was so different about her than you?

The person you needed to bring didn't even have to be the best conversationalist, you just needed someone as arm-candy really. As an excuse to show up.

Deep down you knew this wasn't healthy. It felt high-school-like, but you couldn't help it. You felt betrayed, lied to even. Three months was no time at all when you two had spent that long together. How could he give up just like that? It was almost like, because he no longer put up an effort, you were chasing for that effort to come back.

You always want what you can't have, right?

Whatever. You had a few options that would be good enough. You decided on messaging the first one.

Y/N: free tonight?

He had a mustache and traditional ink tattooed all along his arms. He held a PBR in his profile picture, along with two other similar-looking men by his side. His smile was beautiful, you couldn't lie. His hair was even the same shade of brown as Harry's, except slightly longer than his. It reminded you of earlier in the relationship when Harry's hair dangled past his ears, and you would call him Prince Harry as a joke. You mourned the day that he decided to cut it.

Some minutes passed and you contemplated just messaging the other two, just so you could at least secure one. That was all you needed.

Your phone dinged just as you had begun typing out your new message to option number two. The PBR boy's profile picture lit up at the top of your screen and you quickly erased what you had typed out to the other.

PBR boy: I am if you need me to be

Embarrassingly enough, your cheeks hinted a shade of pink. You hadn't flirted with someone in God-knew how long, let alone made a plan for a date. It felt nice, in a way. Harry would attempt to flirt, and you tried to reciprocate it, but it stopped feeling authentic towards the end. You thought Harry noticed too, because his cheeky comments ceased after a while.

You exchanged numbers with the PBR Tinder guy and began telling him of the details. Obviously leaving out the part where your long-term ex-boyfriend was there, and he was going to be used as bait to make him jealous. Jealous of what? You weren't really sure. Jealous that you could find someone else just as quickly as he could? Or jealous that you seemed completely unaffected? Supposed it went hand-in-hand.

PBR boy, who you refused to remember the name to, texted that he would come to pick you up in a few hours. You smiled at your screen as it lit up in front of you. You hadn't left the house much besides work, so it would be nice to get a change of scenery anyway.

You underestimated how long getting ready was going to take you. He texted that he was about ten minutes away as you attempted to shimmy yourself through your dress. It had a corset-like structure around the waist that you were having difficulty tying up. You tried to reach from behind and from the sides, but your flexibility was more limited than you thought. Almost convinced you were going to pop your shoulder out of place, you eventually got every string tied together in its rightful place.

"Jesus Christ," you mumbled as you dabbed your forehead with the back of your hand.

You squatted down to look back into your vanity mirror, checking to make sure you didn't already mess up your makeup. Luckily, everything still looked intact. Your eyeliner wing was sharper than you had ever made it, the black eyeshadow perfectly smudged along it into a smokey eye. Silver flecks of glitter twinkled in your inner corners as your vanity lights reflected against it. You reapplied your mauve lipstick, amplifying the color. A quick smack of the lips to finish the look was necessary.

You took a step back as you looked over your entire body. The silk of your forest green dress hugged your curves in the best way possible, a special thanks to the corseted effect as well. It was Harry's favorite color, especially when it was on you. It cupped just tight enough against your chest, causing your boobs to push into the fabric for a lifted look. The deep neckline only helped, your cleavage resting perfectly against your chest. Just enough to leave some to the imagination, but not much. Just enough to want more. The bottom of the dress came right up to your upper thigh with a slit leading up to your ass. You looked hot, simple as that. The added leather jacket really sealed in the deal.

An empty shot glass caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It sat right next to the bottle of vodka you had brought in there earlier. You had already taken three shots, but a fourth one looked extra nice right about then.

Fuck it.

You were going to need to be drunk for tonight anyway.

You threw it back, a grimace twisting against your facial features. A groan escaped from your mouth and you slammed the shot glass down, fluffing up your curls one last time in the mirror.

PBR boy: Here I think

You inhaled a deep breath, throwing your purse over your shoulder and walked out your bedroom door.

Y/N: cominggg

The steps down into the parking lot seemed like an obstacle course. The lack of sunlight really wasn't helping your case and you started to slightly regret your decision on the fourth shot. To be fair, the shoes mixed with the liquor was a bad combination to begin with but somehow you made it down in one piece.

Through your hazy vision, you made out the car in front of you. It was some kind of black sedan, unsure of the make or model. You honestly didn't care. You just wanted to be at the party already. You were too tipsy to make casual conversation at that point anyway.

"Hey. You look nice," he said once you came around the passenger side. You smiled as you swung yourself into the seat, closing the door behind you. You crossed your fingers that the mint in your mouth hid the leftover remnants of the smell of alcohol on your lips. You weren’t sure why you wanted to hide it so badly, but you did.

"Thanks, you do too." You reached your hand down as you noticed how hiked up the dress had gotten. You lightly pulled on it, just enough to not expose your underwear any more than you might have already, purely on accident, when you got into the car. Normally you would've felt embarrassed, but the liquor soaring through your system left you with a feeling of confidence you weren't used to. You wanted him to ogle you. You wanted him to touch you.

But not yet and not here.

He did look good, though. Even if his waves weren't nearly as defined as Harry's. His was in between straight and wavy, not quite with the same level of volume. It was still cute though as it sat tucked behind his ears. A small earring hoop showcased itself, providing a nice contrast against his skin.

He was also taller than you expected, even given the fact he was sat in a car. You could tell by his demeanor he had quite a bit of height to him. His muscles peeked through the fabric of his thin, white t-shirt, even his tattoos were slightly visible through the clothing.

"So, where's this party again?" He spoke in a low, raspy voice.

"Just like fifteen minutes out. It's at my friend's," you said. You hyper focused on your words and how you expressed them. There was only a slight slur to your annunciations, but he didn't seem to notice.

He nodded his head, pushing on the gas with a smirk. Somehow his hand found its way to your thigh, trailing along the bare skin. Your heart hammered against your chest as the rings on his fingers sent a shiver down your leg like a wave of electricity.

Harry's rings used to feel like that.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice of your friend rang out behind you. Even through the loud music and multitude of people talking, there was no mistaking that voice.

You had hardly made a few steps through the door before you were swept into her arms. She planted a drunken kiss on your cheek, smiling hard at you when she let go from the hug.

"I'm so glad you made it! Harry's—," she shook her head, seeing the guy by your side. He seemed to remind her of your recent split with Harry. She cleared her throat, immediately changing the subject.

"I'm Lana, by the way! And you're..." she trailed off, her arm still loosely wrapped around your waist.

"Noah," he chimed in and extended a hand. This was the first time you paid attention to his name. You supposed it actually was important information, especially when greeting others. You were grateful you didn't have to introduce him; you weren't sure how much he would've appreciated the nickname you gave him.

Lana gave you a quick impressed looked. "Nice to meet you, Noah. Alcohol is out in the kitchen." She turned to you, placing a hand at the small of your back. "And I expect to see you soon because I need a dancing partner and I'm not taking no for an answer." She gave a small squeeze before disappearing into the room beside you.

"She seems fun," he joked with a smile. "Now let's go take some shots."

A smile broke through your lips, ready to top off the drunkenness that had seemed to slightly dissipate since leaving your house. You crooked your arm into his as you both walked through the bodies of people. Some you recognized and some you didn't.

You couldn't help but look over your shoulder in hope and fear of running into that one person. The whole reason you were there to begin with.

It only took two more shots back-to-back before you were fully drunk. Noah had downed about double your intake and you were slightly impressed at the speed. He might have even drunk more, but you were too focused on your feet not falling out from under you to notice much else. The heels, even with the minimal height, was definitely a mistake.

"These fuckers have got to go," you grumbled as you collected your shoes into your hand. You lightly stumbled as Noah reached out for you, a chuckle leaving his mouth at your state. You couldn't help but giggle with him.

You looked around the room as you tried to rack ideas in your brain. The last thing you were going to do was carry those Shoes of Death around all night. There were people sprinkled throughout the kitchen, leading into every exit. Hiding them in the corner wasn't an option, as every corner was taken up by a body. You decided on just chucking them into one of the kitchen cabinets. If someone stole them, you honestly didn't care anyway. You couldn't say you didn't at least try.

"Wanna dance?" You excitedly shouted over the party's volume.

His cheeks had a drunken blush of pink as he grinned wide. "I thought you'd never ask."

His hand brushed against yours with purposeful eye contact. He looked down at your fingers as he intertwined them with yours, leading the way. His guidance helped your steadiness, or at least you thought it did. You weren't actually all that sure of the reality of how you looked. All you knew was you were happy. You hadn't felt happy like this in a while. It was nice.

Swarms of people, who seemed to come out of nowhere, brushed their bodies past the two of you as he continued to lead you to the source of the music. The strong stench of weed instinctively caused your head to whip around, seeing a circle of people smoking a variety of blunts. You giggled at the sight and considered breaking free from Noah to join. You had a plan though, so you still needed him with you.

Everything just felt so surreal. The music thumping through your chest to the flashing, colorful lights whizzing around. The haziness of smoke had cascaded throughout various areas, slightly obstructing your already blurry vision. You laughed out loud, swaying your body to the music as one hand continued to be pulled by the guy who was looking more attractive by the minute. You almost forgot about Harry. Why were you so sad about him to begin with? You wouldn't be able to do this if you were with him. You were free now.

Fuck Harry.

You felt like the main character in a coming-of-age film as Noah abruptly pulled your body into his. His hands tightened against your back, causing the silk of your dress to bunch up in his grasp. You could feel his breaths against your skin as your eyes flickered up to meet his. The rosiness of his cheeks had become less obvious due to the colorful lighting. Everything around you two were different shades of pinks, purples, and blues. You watched the lighting change in his pupils as he stared down at you, lips parted.

For a moment, your eyes closed to soak in the moment. Your body felt so loose from the alcohol, as if you were on a set of clouds and all you wanted to do was move your body. Your arms raised above your head as your hips swayed with Noah's hands continually tightening against your back and waist.

Your eyes opened with a smile. What you noticed over his shoulder caused your smile to drop instantaneously.

Harry peered at you through his drink, not bothering to hide his stares. He was alone though, and a flicker of hope flashed through your body. Although, right before your drunken confidence caused you to move out of Noah's grasp, that familiar face reappeared. Harry's eyes shifted to his girlfriend by his side, saying something to her. She said something back as she played with her hair, and he tucked it behind her ear. The scene in front of you made your stomach flip in the worst way. Watching her flirt with him, let alone watching him flirt back was too much to bear.

But it was fine. Two could play that game.

Your hand drifted from Noah's back, intertwining your fingers through his hair slowly. His hands rested against your hips as they moved with the beat, encouraging your movements. You closed your eyes again, resting your head into the crook of his neck. Your lips brushed against him, resulting in his head to fall back slightly. A smile pressed into his neck as you enjoyed the moment. Your eyes peeked open, wondering if Harry was still there.

He was, but his attention was elsewhere. His girlfriend had disappeared off again somewhere and he stood there talking to someone you didn't know the name to. Obviously, whatever you were doing wasn't enough. It was enough, however, for him to steal the briefest of glances from him. That was all you needed for more motivation to continue.

You grabbed ahold of Noah's wrists, slowly turning him around for your back to face Harry. You wanted him to watch as he touched you. As he felt along the fabric of the dress that clung so nicely to your body. As he touched your ass, a reminder of something that was no longer his.

You guided his right hand further, planting it firmly on your ass. He looked down at you with the faintest of smirks. He pulled at the fabric, lifting it just at the brink of revealing your ass to everyone behind you. He gripped tightly against you, quickly releasing it as he hovered his mouth from yours, your foreheads pressed against each other's. Both of your lips brushed, feeling the hot breaths against one another's skin. You couldn't lie and say you didn't like how it made you feel. If you closed your eyes, it was as if it was who you wanted it to be anyway.

But you weren't going to let him kiss you. At least not yet. Not until you were for sure Harry could see it all.

The swaying of your hips became more dramatic as you started to turn around from him, your back now pressed against his front. He instinctively pulled your hips in, pressing you even tighter against himself. You could feel his cock twitch from the contact of your ass on him, so you rocked your hips even more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and he knelt his lips into the crook of your neck. He started to lightly suck on the skin, earning a quiet moan from the back of your throat. He was getting harder by the second.

His teeth grazed over where he had just sucked on, the tender skin causing a shiver down your spine. His kisses against your neck became quicker and more desperate, as well as his hands around your body. His grasp tightened against your waist as one ran along your torso. Laps of his tongue made your head roll as the breeze brushed against the newfound wetness.

You brought your head back up, your eyes catching Harry's. He had completely stopped talking to whoever he was previously. His eyes over-casted with an emotion you didn't see often from him. It was anger. He was angry.

His nostrils flared, his grasp so tight against the plastic cup, it was slightly distorting the shape. When he noticed you caught his glance, his nose twitched, and he walked away to the side. His jaw was clenched as he made his way out of the room. A smile broke wide across your face as you spun back around to Noah.

You knew it was unfair, but you still broke free from his grasp. His eyes widened, the sudden disconnect of your body against his fingertips took him off guard. You brought a singular finger up, mouthing that you would be right back.

In reality, you weren't sure when you would be back. It wasn't that you didn't necessarily want to continue, but you didn’t want anything to go further if it wouldn't spark a reaction out of Harry as a result.

The reaction you just got gave you a high that no alcohol could have granted you—no drug on Earth, even. You wanted to find Lana to tell her everything.

“Y/N! Take a shot with me!” Lana shouted the minute you stepped within her view. A sigh of relief broke through, knowing your search was at least over. You were grateful to be back around her, her presence immediately bringing a sense of relief to you.

You rushed through a small crowd of people that obstructed your path to one of your best friends. She laughed as she watched your drunken legs stumble through before eventually standing right in front of her.

“Girl where the fuck are your shoes?” She bent over, laughing.

“They’re in your cabinet for safe keeping!” You yelled over the music, roaring with your own laughter.

She smiled at you, pulling you in for a hug. You always loved how feely Lana got when she was drunk. She was already such a touchy-feely person when she was stone-cold sober, but when she was drunk...You expected others to question your two’s relationship.

You even remember a few different occasions when Harry would even question it. He swore he was okay with it, but there was a tweak hidden within his voice that said otherwise. Even though he knew Lana first, he never fully got used to how close you two had gotten. Regardless of how you and Harry’s relationship ended, you were forever grateful it happened—even if just for the fact you met Lana.

“Where’s that guy you came with?” She questioned as she pulled away from the hug, her face still only inches from your face. You could smell the alcohol in her breath, even recognizing the Pina Colada scent that she always seemed to reach for. You didn’t understand how she never got tired of it, even after all the hangovers it left her with.

“Uh...” You trailed off, looking over your shoulder in every direction. “Honestly, no fuckin’ idea.” She lightly slapped you on the shoulder in a fake-scolding manner.

“You see Harry around?” She asked, brushing over the previous topic.

You couldn’t help but break out into a small laughing fit. The details from only about ten minutes ago still repeated through your mind. It went better than you expected, honestly. It almost felt like an accomplishment that it worked as well as it did.

“Something like that,” you joked, “Think I made him a little jealous. Stormed off when he saw me with that one guy.” His name had slipped from your memory already. You felt slightly bad for it, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had forgotten your name just the same. Out of fairness, you kind of hoped he did forget, too.

“Bitch!” She yelled, this time slapping you slightly harder across the arm. “I just saw him with his new girl, I guess? Like a few minutes ago. They were going at it in the hallway. Like tongues and everything. Everywhere.” She scrunched her nose with disgust as she brought her drink up to her lips.

The idea of his lips against another girl made your stomach twist with knots. His hands against her skin, trailing circles around the spots he used to touch you. Whispering what he would want to do to her that he had done to you before. His tongue drifting over and under the valleys of her collarbones up to her neck. It was all too much to process at the moment. You thought you won that round, but really, she won because she had him. Had his touches.

All of a sudden, the alcohol wasn’t sitting in the same way it was through your system earlier. Heat rushed to your face, sweat forming along your palms.

“Y/N?” Lana asked with a look of concern. She shyly smiled, rubbing your arm. You cleared your throat, doing your best to muster your body language back to normal. You wanted out of the conversation, though.

“Hey, I’ll be back. I just have to go to the bathroom, alright?” She nodded her head, popping a kiss to your cheek. You chuckled from the wetness of it, unrealized by her.

“I love you!” She yelled back as she watched you dart out. You blew her a kiss as to try and seem as normal as possible. The last thing you wanted was to raise any concerns and have her start to look for you if you didn’t show up quick enough.

She caught your kiss, shoving it into her imaginary pocket. Smiling at her gesture, you disappeared around the corner.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Your fists sounded against the wooden bathroom door, waiting for a response. Nobody answered and you took that as an invitation to go inside. The door was unlocked, but a random couple inside were ferociously making out leaned against the toilet. You cleared your throat loudly as you stumbled into the room.

The alcohol was not as heavily influencing your movements anymore, but you still remained unsteady. The news didn’t seem to help that either. All you wanted to do was take your keys and go home. But, alas, you didn’t have your keys and your ride was somewhere else. You didn’t even care where he was was also the problem.

“I have to piss!” You barked out when they didn’t move. “I’ll literally piss on the floor. Watch.” You hiked up your foot, pretending like you were moments away from engulfing the room with your piss.

Your threat seemed to snap them out of it, a scowl matching on both of their faces. The girl’s lipstick was smeared all around her mouth, a red ring all that was left around her lips. The guys she was just sucking the face off of had a similar ring. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

They both tore from each other’s arms, pushing themselves off the porcelain make-out throne. They exchanged the dirtiest looks towards you, as if you were the problem here. As if there weren’t a million other better, or cleaner, options to make a soft porn scene out of.

“I heard the toilet upstairs has comfier cushions, might wanna try that one next,” you bit back with annoyance. You slammed the door just as the girl opened her mouth to say something behind you. The lock clicked into place, and you assumed they walked off, not in the mood to argue with some random drunk girl who looked about as dead as she felt.

You dragged your bare feet to the counter, avoiding your reflection in the mirror. The cold tiles against your feet sent a wave of disgust through you, all of a sudden too hyper-aware of all the things it was potentially touching. You made a promise to yourself when you got back out that you would stick it out with the heels. It was better than accidentally stepping through things you had no business stepping through.

You caught a glance in the mirror, and you couldn’t help but inspect your state anyway. You ended up looking in a lot better shape than you thought you would, honestly. Your lipstick was still completely intact, thanks to you not making out with your date after all. Your eyelashes still held tightly to the inner and outer corners of your eyes—a fate they didn’t always have the luxury of having. Your hair was the only thing slightly out of place, the curls lightly frizzing from the humidity within the house. Him running his hands through it probably didn’t help either.

Your eyes closed hard as the imagery Lana described pushed through to your attention. The grip of your hands tightened against the cold counter, turning your knuckles white.

“Fuck!” You whisper-shouted at yourself.

You thought you were so on top of everything, but of course you weren’t. The thought that you could walk right into this and have everything fall the way you wanted it to was far from reality. You didn’t know why you didn’t see that before. If there was a time machine, you would have been the first to try and stop this night from happening. That little bit of justice felt so miniscule knowing that he left watching you so he could be with her.

You needed to gather yourself. You were expected back out there—whether by Lana or even Noah. Leaving without a word would only raise suspicions further. Even though you loved Lana to death, she didn’t need to know how fucked up you were about it. She still talked to Harry after all, and there was a slight fear that it might get brought up into conversation.

So, you tamed the frizz as much as a slight amount of sink water could, and you turned on your heel out the door.

A shot helped push down the feelings that had overcome you. Two, three really sealed in the fate of no longer giving a fuck. Although, you did wonder where he had wondered off to. You were a little surprised that you had yet to run into him since dancing. Maybe it was on purpose. You weren’t sure.

You danced with Lana for a bit, forgetting all about the troubles she had accidentally brought on to you. Her hands trailed along your body just like Noah’s did, but not as full of a hunger that he was filled with. Her chest would press into you, your hot breaths brushing against you in the same way, but you liked it better with her.

The new wave of alcohol buzzing through you both really helped the movements against one another. You giggled into each other, hands all over your bodies. It felt freeing because you knew that neither of you wanted, or needed, something out of it.

She ended up spotting someone off to her side and excitedly screeched, breaking you out of your dancing-trance. She promised she would be right back, but after about five or ten minutes (you lost track, thanks to alcohol) you felt too lonely dancing alone. A guy kept ogling you off to the side, but you weren’t interested. Blondes were never your thing anyway.

You figured it was time to start searching for the guy you came with, assuming he didn’t end up ditching you anyway. Your hand placed against strangers’ backs as you used their bodies to steady you in your hunt.

The magnitude of individuals seemed to dissipate once you entered into the hallway. A few giggly sorry’s left your mouth as you moved past the couples who obviously picked this spot for more alone time. You weren’t one to judge. (As long as they weren’t hogging the fucking toilet).

Even though you had been to Lana’s house more times than you could count, it was still hard navigating through the building. You knew her house more when there weren’t people in every nook and cranny or with flashing lights distorting your sense of direction. The vodka shots reminded you that you were never that good at direction anyway, not even sober. It was a big house, to be fair.

Once you could get past this hallway, to the right should lead to upstairs. You didn’t know why he might be up there, but you hadn’t seen him downstairs since you departed from him anyway, so it was worth a shot. A tiny hint of fear blasted through the back of your mind knowing others could be up there, too. But you needed to put on your brave face and walk up with your uncomfortable heels that shockingly remained untouched where you left them.

There were only a couple stragglers sitting on the stairs, but one in particular caught your eye. The waves of his hair brushing past his forehead was the first indicator of the person you were just worrying about running in to. The same girl as before, and all the other befores, sat uncomfortably close to him. She sat on the step above him, her legs draped over his with his hands tightly wrapped around her thighs. She was saying something that made him laugh. Really laugh. The laugh that I would have been able to recognize from a mile away, over any music that could have played.

Your cheeks grew that same heat as before, but worse. Tears threatened to prick at your eyes and you bit on the inside of your cheek as a form of distraction. Now was not the time for this. Although you considered just sleeping here and having Lana drive you back in the morning—just to avoid having to walk past them or see another second of this. Getting home by the night just did not seem worth it enough right then.

“Y/N!” A voice from the top of the stairs rang out. Your eyes jumped from his, who happened to be Noah, and back to Harry. Harry’s smile had broken as he scanned around the room from him and then to you.

“I, uh,” you stumbled over your words under your breath. You had never been more uncomfortable than in this exact moment. All eyes were on you: Noah’s, Harry’s, and even his girlfriend. You could tell she had no idea who you were as she tugged on Harry’s arm with a smile. He nervously laughed, pretending like he didn’t care you were right in front of him. Maybe he didn’t care. It stung a little knowing she didn’t feel any sense of threat with you being there. How could he have not mentioned you?

“You left me, dude. I thought you left!” Noah yelled, running down the stairs. Harry gave him a subtle annoyed look as Noah’s leg brushed against his shoulder. You could tell he wanted to say something but decided against it.

You squeezed out a forceful laugh, “Sorry about that. Got a bit distracted.”

He hummed in thought, that similar smirk from before growing on his face. “That’s okay, we can just pick up where we left off, right?” His hand snuck its way behind you, toying with the fabric. The pads of his fingers inched closer to your ass, and you wanted to play along.

You spun him around, bringing your face so close to his, your noses almost touched. Your eyes silently spoke to him, granting his touch to continue along your body. You couldn’t see Harry’s face, but you knew he would have been too curious not to look. You knew him too well.

You hoped she saw it, too.

“Absolutely,” you hummed against his lips. You could feel the gentle rush of wind against the bottom of your ass from his fist rising the dress.

You pulled in closer, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth which earned a deep groan from Noah’s mouth. You smiled against him, hovering just against his lips before crashing them together. Your hands crawled up the side of his face and around his neck as you twirled your lips together, biting and nipping at the skin. His tongue lapped circles around yours, desperate for more contact than you were giving him.

His hair brushed between your fingers, lightly tugging on them as it tilted his head. His eyes opened to stare down at you, his lips pink from your work. You smirked, pulling him in even closer. The kiss became messier by the second and you didn’t care how it was obstructing your near-perfect makeup.

You broke away again, just in time to see the same mop of brown curls rush past you. Her hand wrapped around his wrist as she pulled herself along with him around the corner and into the hallway. You hadn’t seen him walk that fast before. It was that same brisk walk that you caused earlier when his whole body was tense with anger.

You darted your eyes back up to Noah’s, who hadn’t stopped staring seductively at you that entire time. You grinned at him, planting one more kiss against his lips and separated yourself from his grip.

Maybe you were winning more than you thought against him. Noah grinned back at you, unknowing of the cause of your’s.

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universitypenguin · 3 years

Text

Restitution - Chapter Seven

Author's Note: Hello everyone. I'm sorry for my absence. I've had some recent interactions that have made me consider if I would continue to post fanfiction on Tumblr. A couple minors followed me and I had to take a step back and consider what appropriate action looked like. Some of you were unfairly blocked and have since been unblocked and refollowed. I apologize to those users. You can read the full detail of my blocking spree here.

To answer your burning question:

Yes, I'll continue to write on Tumblr. No, there won't be another blocking spree. I will block those who I can tell are minors, but I can't police every interaction that occurs on my blog. I don't have the time or energy. Going forward I'll only interact with those who I know are over 18. My tag list is going to be reviewed but I haven't gotten around to it yet, so I'm leaving it off for now. Tomorrow I'll review it. If you're on my tag list and don't have an age listed or haven't messaged me already to say you're not a minor, please contact me or list your age. I'm going to tag you all in a post tomorrow and make sure everyone understands what's going on.

Word Count: 2,832

Warnings: Smut, explicit language, sexual content, NSFW, 18+, minors do not interact. (Note: This chapter does not contain smut but as part of a work of erotic fanfiction, it's tagged as smut.)

Prior chapters: My masterlist

Chapter Seven

“My father was a fourth generation gangster. He was in the Irish mafia. When he died, his title fell to me.”

Andy watched you closely, gauging your reaction. You kept your face smooth and waited for the rest. He licked his lips and then continued.

“He was always an upper ranking member, but after the war for territory killed his brother, he became the boss. He led the gang for twenty years. The three of us boys all wanted out. But it was easier said than done. In the end, I couldn’t escape. Before I left you, a Mexican gang who’d been moving up the coast claiming territory showed up. They murdered my father. Right after his death, his right-hand man came to see me. He said if I didn’t take over, they’d kill me, my mother, and my brothers. I knew he was right. My legacy claim was the only thing that kept our side from internal combustion.”

A chill washed over you at the idea. Steve and Ari had endeared themselves to you. Even as anger stirred in your chest at Andy’s lies, you could appreciate his desire to protect them. The amount of money they’d paid for the painting made sense now, with the context of their underworld ties. Fifty-five million in cash spelled out organized crime in bright red letters.

Andy Barber was a mafia boss. It was perfectly clear, the reality of it staring you straight in the eye. But the unexpectedness of it all was a difficult thing to wrap your head around.

“I’d always imagined you’d run off to be a district attorney in New York or something.”

His mouth twitched. “My plans to go straight were incredibly romanticized. I wanted to roll as far away from the tree I’d fallen from as I could. At least I had those seven years out from under his thumb. The last few I spent with you were the best of my life.”

“What about the others? Steve and Ari? You’re the middle child. Why wouldn’t Steve have taken over?”

“He was born sick and my father hated him for it. They sent Steve to live with an aunt in Brooklyn when he was a year old. We saw each other because of my mother, but my father pretended he didn’t exist. At home, we all did. When he decided something, none of us talked back.”

“I’m sorry. That’s awful. He’s not sick now, right?”

Andy snorted. “He’s the picture of health. The military did experiments on him. They turned him into a beast. He grew ten inches and can outpace a cheetah. I’d hoped when I walked out on my father he might set his sights on Steve as the heir. Selfish, I know. But he never spoke about his oldest child. To him, Steve was dead.”

“But he let you take off for college?”

“He didn’t stop me. He just kept close tabs. Eventually, my little walkabout would have ended. I was too young and stupid to see it, but there was never a way out for me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Denial. I thought I’d left it all behind, but it was looming over me the whole time. The Mexican gang shot him outside of his restaurant. It was one of his money laundering spots that also did brisk business. There were a ton of witnesses and the attack was brutal. When it came down to it, I went back into the mafia life to protect my family. Steve was back from Afghanistan on Liberty. Ari was arriving that same night after a backpacking trip around Europe.”

“Were they in danger?”

“Yes. I took care of things. When I told you I’d been over at Ben’s studying? That was a lie. I met with Steve, got Ari to a safe house, and we agreed. We were in it together and it worked out. The Mexicans left after three months.”

“So we broke up a few days after this war started?”

Andy nodded. “The Mexicans had little information on me. They were at the airport when Steve and I went to get Ari, but we got past them. After they went to ground and started planning, I realized they didn’t know about my new life. So I broke it off and told you to stay away. If I hadn’t they would have come for you and I could barely protect my family. Plus, exposing you to what I grew up in….the idea turned my stomach, duchess.”

“Why didn’t you contact me after it was over? I was still in the apartment. I kept hoping you’d come back.”

“I wanted to. But I was surrounded by bodyguards and they’re more loyal to their clan than to me. Taking over during a war kept us united, but afterwards, I had to prove myself. Steve took up enforcement and Ari started the poker games. The money was good, even better than what they’d made under my father’s rule. The mafia was happy, so they kept us.”

“Feeding the piranhas?” you asked, smiling a little.

“That’s not a bad metaphor. That first few months, I was paranoid. I was in my twenties trying not to get shredded. You know, it’s the only time I’ve been grateful to my father. He prepared me for the job.”

You found you were grateful, too. Because a world without Andy would be a dark and lonely place. Having experienced it, you knew how it felt. At the very least, you’d held on to the fact that maybe he was happy. Anguish aside, your heart was his. Even when you hated him, at the core of your being, you hoped he’d found happiness somewhere in the world.

“Now you know the truth. I broke up with you so you’d be safe. I stayed away for the same reason. I lied to you and I hurt you, but if I had to do it again? I would. You’re still breathing, and no matter the cost, I’d pay it ten times over to keep you that way.”

Your lip curled in outrage. He had lied. A valid lie, spoken with good intentions. But nonetheless, it had been a lie. What stuck in your throat was that you’d never suspected any of this. Andy had been sweet and warm. He’d given you flowers on your first date. He’d stayed on campus late to walk you home every night when you’d lived in the dorms.

“Duchess? Please say something?”

You saw the pain on his face and your hand twitched. There was a powerful urge to reach out to him, but you shoved it down.

“Did you finish your law degree?”

“No, but I passed the bar exam.”

Numb with surprise, you nodded, trying to reorient your world view. Andy wasn’t the man you’d thought him to be. The whole situation tonight had been a massive web of lies, just as your life with him during college had been. Was he the architect of this conspiracy, too?

“Who’s idea was tonight? Why did your brothers proposition Jackson and then come to my office?”

“Ari noticed you. He knew you were with Jackson, and he wanted to seduce you away from him. Unfortunately, Steve had designs on you, too. His plan was to ask you on a date. When they realized they were after the same woman, fists flew. I broke it up and while the matter was being settled, your name came up. Imagine my surprise.”

“Do they know about us? What have you told them?”

Andy frowned. “I mentioned we dated in college. Nothing else. Ari went off from there, spinning a yarn about how none of us had to lose. He assumed the best about our history and I didn’t correct him. Steve agreed to turn on Jackson and try to lure you in, even though he hated the false pretenses. And I kept my mouth shut because they’d planned out a chance for me to see you again without attracting unwelcome attention from our men.”

You pressed your palm to your temple, pain bursting across your mind as you tried to sort through the rush of information. Your emotions were a wild churn. Questions needed to be asked, but you weren’t sure where to start.

Andy Barber was the leader of the Irish Mafia. He’d never finished law school.

“Do you still swim?”

“What?” His brow furrowed.

“Did you like swimming or was that part of your act?”

“I’ve always…” he cut off and took a deep breath. “Fuck. I’m not a total phony.”

“How would I know? I seem to have a gift for attracting them.”

Andy’s face clouded with confusion. Then rage twisted his features. He leaned back, shoulders moving as realization set in.

“Did you just compare me to Jackson?”

“You lied, he lied. I bought the lies. The similarities are endless when you think about it.”

Nostrils flared, a tell you still recognized, announced that your comment truly enraged him.

“Duchess, I’d never hurt you…”

“A minute ago, you said you’d hurt me ten times over if it kept me alive. So there’s another lie on your scorecard.”

“Fuck, baby, give me something to work with here. Jackson financially abused you. He conned you and stole your identity.”

“You stole my heart and lied to me about who you were. I loved you. Losing you like that broke me, Andy. You did that. My bank balance will recover a lot faster than my heart did.”

He jerked as if you’d slapped him. Then his spine slumped, and he curved in on himself. Your heart ached. The instinct to comfort him surged. You fought it off.

“When Ari told me what he’d done, I wanted to help you.”

“What happened to me is none of your business!”

Andy winced.

“I want it to be. I want to protect you. It kills me that he preyed on you, used you, hurt you.”

“You cut me off. That was your decision, not mine. You lied to me and used me as cover.”

“I never used you. Duchess, our relationship was the most authentic thing I’ve ever had.”

You shook your head, refusing to believe him. Andy persisted.

“That was the only time I’ve been free. It wasn’t real freedom, but I didn’t know that. I wanted a life with you. I believed I could have it and I thought I’d left my past behind. You’re pissed I never told you where I came from, but I was ashamed. I’m ashamed of who my father was and what he did.”

Your eyes caught his, and the emotion within them made your heart stutter. Love and misery brimmed out of him, calling to you. You held your breath and stiffened as fear kicked in. He’d ripped you apart. A second round with Andy Barber would shatter what was left of your psyche.

Andy sighed. “Now I get to be ashamed of the man I’ve become. And that has more to do with what happened between us than any of the crimes I’ve committed.”

Breathing was difficult. Thinking was more difficult. Your fight-or-flight instincts were kicking on. Andy was a threat to your wellbeing. It was a terrible dilemma that you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and tell him you’d always loved him and always would. The urge to run warred with an aching desire to stay.

“Why did you want to get me alone, Andy? Did you just want to come clean or do you have something more to say? Because if not I want to go home.”

“I want you. I have no right to ask, but I’m doing it anyway. There are no more lies between us and you know who I am. When we were together, I wasn’t honest with you. If you’ll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life proving how sincere I am about loving you.”

His eyes glinted with moisture. You were frozen, heartbeat thumping.

“You’re saying this isn’t just one night?”

“I’m saying I’m yours. And I’m asking if you’ll have me.”

“Steve and Ari? Where do they fit into this?”

Andy shrugged. “I’ll let them make their own passes at you. For now, I’m throwing myself at your mercy. You don’t have to say anything right now. I’d prefer you think things over. Weigh the odds, duchess. Don’t reject me out of hand, please. I’m begging. I want a second chance.”

“Andy, I don’t know…”

He shifted closer, and suddenly you were in his arms. He snagged you against his chest. At the familiar embrace, you crumpled. He was warm and smelled of the same cologne he’d worn before. Andy groaned. His lips brushed your ear.

“Please, let me back in. I need you, more than I ever have. I want something good in my life. We can make it work. I need you, duchess. Please.”

His voice was aching. Again, you wanted to comfort him. But your head was still spinning. The lies you’d never suspected him of burned your ego and bruised your trust. He’d tied up loose ends, but the explanations didn’t sit easily on your conscience.

He’d had limited options, but the lies had been of his own making. Your belief in him was rattled. Worse, between his lies and Jackson’s, your belief in yourself was broken. If you’d been asked this morning if your college sweetheart could’ve become a ruthless mobster, you’d have laughed. That’s crazy. Andy had planned to become a prosecutor. He was a world away from living the future you’d imagined for him.

Your head snapped up at the sound of the door opening. Ari stepped into the room. He flashed a grin at the sight of you in Andy’s arms.

“This is cute. Did you love birds talk it out?”

When he looked closer at you, his smirk dropped.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Maybe you’d read Andy and Jackson wrong, but Ari was living up to expectations.

“She’s fine,” Andy said.

“I wasn’t talking to you. Sweetheart, why don’t you let my brother and I step outside so he can tell me why he made you cry?”

You wiped the wetness away with the back of your hand. “He lied to me. He broke up with me without a hint of warning after we’d been together for three years. After we’d lived together for two years. I showed up to find him moving out, and he dropped the bomb on me. No explanation, just a clean break. He loved me, but he had to go. Then he dropped off the face of the earth.”

Andy’s face blanched of color, but you had one last detail he didn’t know about your breakup.

“It was an enormous shock, given that I’d found a ring in his sock drawer a week before.”

Ari hissed. Andy swore.

The tanned man was glaring daggers at his brother.

“You didn’t tell us.” Ari clenched his jaw and turned to you. “I swear we didn’t know. Steve and I thought you’d casually dated.”

“I told her,” Andy said.

“You friggin’ asshole, you’ve made us look like psychopaths. Honey -”

“It’s okay. Believe me, I know how convincing he can be.”

Andy’s eyes dimmed at your harsh words. Guilt tugged at your heartstrings, but the pain in your chest was stronger.

“Okay, that’s it. We’re calling it a night. I’m throwing Jackson out on the street. Andy, you can take him home. While you’re at it, find somewhere else to sleep tonight. She and I will take your bed.”

“Fuck you, Ari. I was explaining-”

“Do you want him here?” Ari asked you.

You sighed and laid your hand on Andy’s jaw, feeling his soft beard. A surge of love made your heart go mushy when he shut his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“I’m tired, okay. Can we talk later?”

He looked hopeful. “Anytime you want.”

“In the morning.”

“Sure, great, talk in the morning. Now get the fuck out and take her ex-boyfriend with you,” Ari said.

“You broke up with him?” Andy asked.

“No.”

“She’s going to,” Ari said.

He stalked to the bed and jerked off his shirt, tossing it on the floor. Then he undid his jeans. Andy scowled.

“This is my bedroom.”

“Tonight it’s hers and you’re not fucking welcome. Get out. If you come back before she wants to see you, you’re going to die.”

Andy curled his arm around you, leaning in. His lips were coming closer. You held perfectly still, excited but afraid. He could realize the power he held over you if you weren’t careful. But a part of you wanted to throw caution to the wind and give in.

Ari grabbed him by the arm and yanked Andy away. He let his brother drag him to the door, looking at you regretfully.

“Sorry, Duchess. Have Ari text me tomorrow when you want to see me.”

- - - - -

Next Part: Chapter Eight

- - - - -

Tag List: Under review due to minors following me. Now that I'm aware of this problem, I'm reconstructing my tag list. I'll work on it tomorrow and reblog with tags.

#andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #ari levinson smut #chris evans smut #smut fanfiction #no minors #minors dni #andy barber x you #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers x you #andy barber x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #lemon

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thelucyverse · 3 years

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How To Interact With Beta Readers - for Fanfic Authors

I wanted to make posts both for fic authors and beta readers, because I realized in several recent interactions that some helpful unwritten rules of fandom seem to have become lost to people who are new to it.

This isn't meant to be a call-out post against anyone to say 'you did it wrong!' (really, how could anyone be mad if you just didn't know any better), and there aren't even any definite rules for anything - but I just thought these things might be nice to know and helpful to share around. This first part will be @ the authors, the second part is @ the betas.

Asking for a beta reader

When you want someone to look through your fic, whether you ask in a tumblr post, @/helper in a discord server, in the notes of an already posted work or anywhere else, it's important to state both a) what the work that you want betad is and b) what you want from a beta reader.

The facts about the story.

The first most important facts about the story are a) length (in wordcount, as that is the most-used measurement for fanfiction - you can see it below the tags of an ao3 draft, or at the bottom left of a Word document), and b) rating and warnings. No, please don't just ask 'i have a fic for xy ship to beta' - that's nice information, but not helpful for someone who needs to decide whether they a) have the time to work on the length of fic and b) are willing to be confronted with the kind of content you have written.

In addition to that, you should of course also write what fandom, characters and dynamic it is about, because most beta readers are only willing to beta stories they would also usually read for fun. To make sure that the right people find the ask for a beta reader, you best target the post to them, so tag a tumblr post with the fandom and ship etc, and on discord share the request in a server or channel for the fandom, not an unrelated one.

What format is the draft in?

A word document you can send them via e-mail, a copy-pasted text in a direct message, link access to a google docs? Not everyone is comfortable with all of these methods, and you need to figure out one that works for the both of you.

Also, do you want the changes made directly in the text, in comment functions of the document, or as messages to you? If for example you send someone a Word document, and don't want them to change anything directly in your text, but they aren't comfortable working with the comment function there and end up writing you separate messages telling you what page and line the edits are one, that's going to be a lot more work for you to look through than you might have liked, so make sure to communicate it all beforehand and figure out a way that works properly for everyone.

What do you want from your beta?

'Well, to look over the story, duh?' but it's not that easy. Do you want the beta to:

- Only check for spelling and grammar mistakes in comments next to the text, No other suggestions at all because they would make you feel bad about your work/you don't have the time or want to spend the time on editing anything but honest mistakes/ any other reason?

- Grammar and spelling checks but also suggestions for word flow, repetitive words and phrases that could be changed and stylistic things like adding paragraph breaks (which are always nice to have for mobile reading)?

- [same as above] and also point out possible logic flaws and places where you might want to move a scene forward or back, or suggestions to things you could add to the story, with explanations as to why?

- [same as above] and also give suggestions for text you could cut that is unnecessary to the story or interrupting the flow of a scene in the opinion of your beta reader?

- Include nice messages as to what the beta liked best of the fic, or stay completely objective?

- Point out things they subjectively didn't like and would change about the story if they wrote it themselves, or not?

- Make corrections directly in the story, so afterwards you barely need to look at it anymore before you can publish it, or only give suggestions in comments or messages?

All of these are things some people welcome and others find incredibly annoying and/or hurtful! So make sure to communicate exactly what you are looking for. You don't have to do so in your initial public request, but once you have found a potential beta, you should text them the details before giving them access to your fic.

Do not be afraid of cancelling on a beta if you don't think it is going to work out! Whether because they aren't comfortable using the format you like to use, are a language teacher who can't stop correcting the long sentences you choose to keep as a stylistic choice, or just someone you don't vibe with, whether it's before or after they have started beta reading - be kind, but let them know that it just isn't working out, and that you would rather stop now before either of you wastes any more time and effort. If they want you to, you can tell them what you would have liked them to do differently, but don't ask someone to change how they are, and don't give unsolicited criticism, no, not even to a beta reader.

Decide on a time-frame

When are you going to send them the fic? Chapter by chapter over the next days, or the entire work? When do you want or need the work to be beta read? Is it for a challenge or gift exchange and needs to be finished on the same day, or can they wait for the weekend? Even if you don't have a specific deadline, when do you want them to send it back at the latest?

Working with a beta reader

After - or, if you are in for example a google docs at the same time, while - your beta reader does the corrections, you should look at them and decide which corrections you want to keep, and which to disregard. This is entirely your decision, it is your story, you don't need to feel bad if you don't take all of the suggestions for your work, even if you end up only correcting the spelling mistakes and ignoring everything else, it's your decision and this is fine.

If your beta gave suggestions for additional scenes or sentence changes, you can let them know once you have new text for them to correct, but keep in mind that they might no longer have time or energy to beta now, and don't be disappointed if they tell you this or don't reply. They already helped you, and you can always look for a new beta if you feel that your story still needs it.

Crediting your beta reader

Where are you uploading your fic, and how does your beta reader want to be credited? You best talk about this beforehand as well, as some betas only want to work on something when they will get the credit on a platform they are also on.

When posting on tumblr, it is usually expected to @ the person who helped you and write their url or tracked tag in the #s as well, but make sure to ask beforehand, as maybe they don't want other people to know they beta because they don't want to get swamped in work requests/ they don't want their url associated with for example explicit work/ they want you to tag a sideblog for the fandom instead of their main url.

On ao3, you can link to another author's dashboard or profile page (ask which one they prefer) in the notes by first going to the work text - rich text, writing their name, clicking the link symbol, pasting the url, going back to HTML text and cut-pasting the code to the note you want to have it in. You can do the prep work in a new work instead of your actual draft so you won't accidentally cut any of the work text. Again, ask the person beforehand whether they want to be linked there, or just want a nickname or their tumblr url credited.

You can also gift people works on ao3, and while this is in no way a requirement and most beta readers won't ask for it, just about everyone is happy to receive ao3 gifts! You can ask them beforehand if they want that, but as people can accept and refuse gifts on ao3 themselves, you can also let it be a surprise.

If your beta put a lot of work into your fic and wrote parts of it themselves, you can also make them a co-creator of the work on ao3, but only do this if you know and trust the person, as they will gain access to the fic and will be able to edit everything just like you.

Let me know if I missed anything, and I will update the post!

Tips for beta-readers themselves here!

#beta readers #fanfic authors #fandom #fandom lesson #fic lesson #tumblr lesson #ao3 lesson #ao3 #how to ao3 #how to fandom #not lverse #tagging some fandoms too hmm #lotr #hp #tog #gomens #star wars

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