#these two are SO sleazy and i am utterly delighted by them

[egophiliac]

this is basically what happened, right?

(these guys are very lucky that everyone at NRC 1) has the combined intelligence of a sack of bricks, and 2) is easily distracted by shiny things.)

[sleeperswakewriting]

A humble fic request; in which Petra convinced herself that Levi only regards her as a baby maker. We need emotional & conflicted rivetra 🥺

Dude, I have a whole Handmaids Tale AU drafted which is going to be this theme. But until then, have this drabble of Petra being a surrogate mom and Levi is a 40 year old finance man!

Rated: T

Word Count: 1.6k

“Do you need anything else?”

Levi propped Petra’s head up with another pillow while she giggled. “I’m good. Thank you, Levi.” She rubbed her swollen eight-month stomach and gently patted it. “Your dad is going to be a helicopter parent, I just know it.”

Levi pouted and took away her bed tray. “Am not. I’m just making sure the mother of my child is comfortable. Daisy will thank me later,” and he leaned over to kiss Petra’s stomach, whispering only to his daughter, “Won’t you?”

Petra’s heart welled, trying to temper the misplaced affection she garnered. He wasn’t speaking lovingly to her but to his daughter. Not Petra’s. That agreement was settled before they even conceived via a fertility clinic.

Down on her luck, Petra was desperate to pay for her college tuition after her father lost her job. She combed through everything: bartending, waitressing, dropping down to part-time, but nothing would even come close to the thousands of dollars she would need. She could drop out, get a job, and then return to school, but she knew the statistics. People rarely returned after they left, and she was determined to finish school and help her dad from going under.

So, she did what any twenty-something year old would do, desperate for cash—she searched the internet. She could donate her eggs, but that would only barely cover what she needed, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to have several little Petras running around without her knowledge. Her genes were good as far as she knew, and no glaring medical issues from her mother or father’s side. Her mother died early from a car accident, but her maternal grandparents were fit as they could be at their age.

When she found a thread on becoming a surrogate mother, Petra nervously clicked on the website and began to read testimonies. Good, bad, downright horrific, she came out on the other side with an array of opinions and a choice. There was an agency right down the road from her school, and she told herself that she would only stop by for a consult to see if she would be a good fit. All she wanted was information.

Then she ran into Levi Ackerman in the waiting room.

Forty years old, he was every girl’s sugar daddy dream from his peppered gray hair and well-tailored suit. She caught him grumbling about all the paperwork and she made a joke if he was trying to have a baby, he was going to have to fill out a lot more.

He laughed and asked her if she was a current surrogate. Tongue-tied, she said she was still thinking about it.

“Why don’t we skip all this bullshit paperwork and have a drink?”

She assumed he meant he wanted to sleep with her and she heartily accepted. As luck would have it, he wasn’t a sleazy man trying to take advantage of a young woman, and he was completely serious about using her as a surrogate, without the trouble of a third party. He had a private lawyer to handle all the legal and financial matters, but he said he would be more comfortable knowing the mother of his child.

“I’d like to attend all the doctor’s appointments too.”

What could a single, 40-year-old man want with a baby, Petra wondered, and she asked him on their first “date.”

“I’m lonely. Love never worked out for me and I’ve always wanted children. I want at least one before I get too old to take care of it. I have a fortune that I want my own blood to inherit, I don’t have any relatives. You get to an age where you start to think about future generations, and I’m tired of waiting for the right one.”

That was enough for Petra to agree after he told her the amount he was offering. It would be more than enough for the rest of her college tuition and it would cover her living expenses until she obtained a full-time job.

What turned into a financial arrangement blossomed into the most wonderful eight months of Petra’s life. The insemination felt like a regular pap-smear, and since they were tracking her ovulation, within two weeks, they were pregnant.

Levi was overjoyed and treated her to dinner, discussing all the names he had in mind.

“What do you think of the name Daisy?” he asked on a trip back from the doctor’s. He held a coffee in his hand and Petra mirrored him, except hers was decaf.

She forced a laugh, though it pained her to imagine a different time and place where her opinion would be taken into consideration.“It’s your child, Levi!” she chided, giving him a playful bump with her hip.

“I don’t want you to hate it.”

She could never hate anything that came from him.

Part of the agreement was that she wasn’t allowed to date while carrying his child and Petra didn’t mind in the slightest. Levi took one look at her one-bedroom college dorm and demanded she move in with him until the baby was born, and then as long as she wanted to breastfeed. Even though he had preferences, citing the latest research, he understood it was unrealistic to take up nearly a year of Petra’s life.

She also didn’t want to get too attached to him or the baby, but from the moment she saw the first ultrasound, she cried. Levi held her hand, his eyes dancing on the screen and not on her, and she wished he would look at her like that.

Through their interactions, she learned he was a kind, though odd, man. He kept to himself most nights, preferring to read in the evenings after his busy job in finance. Why finance? She asked him, interested since she was studying accounting. Makes good money, it’s boring as shit though. His reply sent butterflies down her stomach; she didn’t realize she enjoyed dry humor so much until she met Levi. His mannerisms were a delight in themselves, and the effortlessly cool persona he embodied was sexy as hell.

“That’s why I want a kid. There’s more to life than work.”

Somewhere along the way, she fell in love. It was in tender moments when he’d rub her back when her stomach ached from the weight of their, no, his daughter. Or when held her hair when she had morning sickness, she quickly learned how much he hated messes from his immaculate living space.

The worst part was when he unveiled the nursery. Levi lived alone in a three-bedroom house, and she knew he was making renovations in preparation for the baby. Between the paint fumes and sawdust, she generally kept away from that part of the house since she made herself comfortable in the large room he outfitted her.

“Close your eyes,” Levi said, placing his hands over her face. Petra laughed, reminding him again that this wasn’t for her.

“I want her to feel your excitement.”

So she acquiesced with a heaviness in her soul and when Levi revealed the room, she cried.

“Blame it on the hormones,” she said, wiping away her tears. A field of daisies was painted along the walls and a decadent crib sat on one side of the wall. By the window sat a mahogany rocking chair with a cushion, and Petra imagined herself nursing. She would coo while Levi looked at the greatest loves of his life.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” He asked excitedly. He began to move throughout the room and the utterly happy expression on his face urged Petra to reach out.

“I got a mobile to match the room, but maybe she’d like animals instead?”

“Do you think this elephant looks constipated?”

“Maybe I should get a darker shade of pink—wouldn’t want vomit stains.”

Petra knew his affection was nothing more than friendship. While she insisted that she didn’t want or needed to be a part of their lives, Levi offered to send her pictures as their daughter grew older. She was still undecided, after all, this was supposed to be a pit stop in her life. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love with the man whose baby she was carrying. This was a financial transaction.

And yet, seated on Levi’s couch, with her head pillowed in his lap while he rubbed her stomach as she bemoaned of muscle aches, Petra allowed herself to dream as she breathed in his musky cologne.

He was wearing gray sweatpants and a white shirt, a sight that she reveled in since he rarely deviated from his well-dressed attire. With his hair freshly washed and a five o’clock shadow set in, she imagined him rubbing his chin along her bare skin as he kissed her. She would love to be ruined by him, but with her state, he would take his time, worshipping her body. He’d whisper how lucky he was to have found her—the perfect mother to his child and woman of his dreams. With her swollen belly, she’d have to be taken from behind, but she wouldn’t care, just as long as he loved her.

That’s all she wanted.

Turning her head so that her face fell into his lap, Levi threaded long fingers through her hair while he turned the volume down on the TV.

“Time for bed?”

Petra shook her head, pretending to yawn but allowed a bleary smile to weave between her lips. “Just a little while longer. I’m comfy.”

His deep laugh sent longing down her spine.

“Sure,” and he rubbed another circle into her stomach, “whatever you need.” And he moved to raise the volume, not seeking idle chatter between them.

Petra moved to face him and played with the drawstrings of his sweatpants.

One more month and this would all be over.

She was going to savor every last moment, even if it broke her.

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Manga Review - Fragtime (Complete Series)

I recall reading the first few chapters of Fragtime on Manga Cross and not being very impressed. I did not care for it much, as, other than the time stopping element, it was mostly generic and had a few too many unsavory elements. I was content to let it rest and be forgotten along with a hundred other girl-meets-girl school Yuri romances until Tear Studio and the people behind the excellent Kase-san and Morning Glories OVA announced an anime adaptation of the work, a full five years after it ended. Inevitably an English adaptation of Sato’s original manga was announced, and so here I am, somewhat reluctantly reading and reviewing the two-volume series. It may sound like I am pessimistic or already had my mind made up, but that is not true. I went into Fragtime with as open a mind as possible, and I am happy to say that I did find several favorable aspects that appealed to me. Sadly, the manga mostly lived up to my poor initial impressions from all those years ago.

Fragtime follows timid high school student Moritani Misuzu, who can stop time for three minutes a day. While using her power, she attempts to look up the skirt of one of her classmates, Haruka Murakami. To her horror, Moritani discovered that Haruka is the one person immune to her ability. The two form an unlikely friendship and spend those few minutes when all others freeze together. As Moritani’s feelings for Haruka grow, her powers begin to fade, throwing their time together in jeopardy.

At first, this story appears to have some promise, along with some obvious issues. The supernatural aspect of Moritani’s powers and its connection to her emotions and relationship with Haruka provide excellent possibilities and avenues to explore the series’ romance and characters. Sadly, Sato delivers an unwieldy story with unlikeable and inconsistent subjects, a poorly paced narrative, and far too many sleazy moments to excuse. This last point is the most prominent of all and will be a turn off for many readers, myself very much included.

Moritani begins the story by “upskirting” one of her classmates. It is later revealed that she reveled in exploring the time-frozen school to pry into people’s most intimate moments, many of which frankly do not happen in schools nearly as much as the story would like to believe. Following this event are multiple scenes with characters flashing each other their panties, or else stripping to whatever the opposite of readers’ delight is. These moments are not sexy, and while a few of them appear to have been attempts at comedy, they will elicit few laughs. These factors create an overwhelming blanket of immature perversion that stifles any enjoyment in the audience and characters.

Another egregious element is a plotline where Haruka is continually sexually abused by her teacher, something used by her to manipulate Moritani, then joked about, and never resolved despite being referenced a good half-dozen times throughout the manga. More than anything, this speaks to Fragtime’s inability to treat its characters with any respect or focus on a plot arc and complete it satisfactorily. For indeed, even if one undergoes the arduous task of shrugging off the uncomfortable fanservice, there is not much noteworthy content left underneath.

Fragtime’s highschool Yuri romance plot is pretty unextraordinary. Even though it did attempt to include a few interesting plot points, like when Haruka and Moritani begin dating partway through the series, it is not awful, but too often, these plots are picked up and then never resolved properly, such as Moritani struggle to avoid the ping-pong club, and her discomfort after finding out about Haruka’s boyfriend. Yet, there were some positives along the way, sweet moments between characters or satisfying actions taken by them. It is just hard to find one uninterrupted by an unwelcome twist or panty flash. The one unconditional plus I will give is that I really liked the ending. There is a fantastic scene of role-reversal where the usually quiet Moritani confesses all the mischief to her and Haruka committed to the class and reveals the truth of their relationship and her feelings for Haruka. Afterward, a stunned Haruka is forced into a crisis of character and her true self is seemingly revealed. It is appropriately dramatic and delivers a fulfilling ending for the characters. Sadly, these revelations and character arcs are not supported by the rest of the story.

A manga like Fragtime lives or dies by its characters. Readers will sympathize with likable characters met with appropriate challenges and growth, or else they will laugh with endearing figures who try their best despite their flaws. Sadly, Fragtime’s Haruka is neither. Haruka is instantly dislikable, manipulating Moritani upon their first meeting, and does little to improve. She often jumps between ignoring Moritani and controlling her, demanding that she only use her powers at her command. These traits are never addressed, and the whole time readers are expected to accept that she is an unreachable beauty, and we should love her alongside Moritani. She is hopelessly inconsistent, apparently changing personalities and acquiring new traits at the drop of a hat so that Sato can shoehorn a new element of drama into the convoluted romance. The ultimate motivation behind her character, how she tries to please everyone and do what they want her to, is contrary to half her actions, and everything we have learned about her up to that point, making the reveal in the penultimate chapter, which is well-executed, feel forced.

Even through all the misery, convolution, and smut, there were, thankfully, some great moments sprinkled throughout Fragtime, mostly from Moritani. I loved seeing Moritani in the moments when she struggled with jealousy and accidentally stopped time, or else was uncertain about how Haruka would react when she confessed something to her. It was really human and relatable, and if only she were not going around looking up girls’ skirts, she would have been an excellent character. It also helps that her journey is also much more believable than Haruka’s, as Sato mostly keeps her story and development moving at a steady pace.

Moritani is much more consistent than Haruka. She starts the series as a timid and quiet girl, using her ability to run from confrontation or frankly, any form of human interaction. Once she meets Haruka and the solace of those frozen minutes is taken from her, she is understandably confused and traumatized. She even has a few moments of growth through the series, taking more confidence in herself as she plants a pair of panties (yup this again) on Haruka’s cheating boyfriend’s head. It is almost enough to sell her eventual ending and deliver a complete character.

Finally, we come to the art, which is good though not extraordinary. Characters have distinct designs and are consistent. Backgrounds and details are well managed, and nothing ever caught my eye as warped or out of place. However, there is not much that jumps out either for its quality. Sato uses very basic paneling, which is easy to read by also just slightly dull. The time-stopping elements were crying out for some sweeping panels of objects frozen mid-movement, but we never got any such content. In fact, there is no noticeable change in the art during those movements when time is stopped, other than Misuzu and Haruka acting like a pervert and exhibitionist respectively. If the writing did not specify when time was stopped or started, readers would have no idea.

Fragtime has an interesting concept but neither the grace nor charm to pull it off completely. The story is meandering and clumsily tries and fails to incorporate heavy topics and complex characterization into a generic Yuri school romance. The characters, particularly Haruka, are mostly unlikeable and wildly inconsistent, and readers have to force themselves to cheer for them or event finish this two-volume series. Most of all, Fragtime leaves an unpleasant and unsettling feeling with all its sleazy fanservice and perverted set pieces, clearly attempting to cater to specific audiences while utterly misunderstanding how teenage girls, or frankly, sane human beings, act. Any silver linings in its more relatable moments and competent presentation are whisked away by a mixture of contempt and disgust. Sadly, I do not recommend this manga, although I do appreciate that Seven Seas published the whole series in one omnibus volume so that it takes up less space on my bottom shelf.

Ratings: Story – 3 Characters – 4 Art – 6 LGBTQ – 2 Sexual Content – 7 Final – 3

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Purchase Fragtime in paperback and digitally today: https://amzn.to/32mzVmg

Purchasing manga legally supports publishers and creator. YuriMother makes a small commission to help fund future content.

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

@sebastianshaw​  Hey, remember when I said that Potoroo Park was the dumbest thing I’ve ever written?  I take it back.  It’s this.  This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever written.  You have my deepest apologies. 

Dreams

Pyro was wearing one of his very old outfits – tight-fitting white pants that flared out at the ankles and a shimmery purple shirt. That was his first clue that something was wrong.  The second clue was that he appeared to be standing in the sand at Bondi Beach, one of Sydney’s most famous and popular tourist spots, instead of his familiar cabin on the Marauder.  

The third clue was the crowd of people rushing past him, screaming in terror.  

“What – “  A panicked surfer slammed into him before he could even get the question out, knocking him into the sand.  For a moment, Pyro was furious because the pants stained so easily, and he’d spent most of his paycheck for that last article on this outfit, and then he remembered that he hadn’t worn any of these clothes in decades.  They’d all gotten sold off at second-hand shops when St. John Allerdyce was packing up his civilian life and running off to become Pyro. He’d worn a lot more red and orange after that.    

The stampede continued around him as he picked himself up, and he could hear voices in the crowd.

“Emus!  The emus are coming!”  

“What?”  

“Emus, mate!”  One of the fleeing beach-goers stopped for a moment to push him along, and Pyro found himself running in spite of himself.  “They won the war and now they’ve turned on us!”  

“What?!”  

“And they’ve allied with cassowaries!”  

“Oh, fuck!”  And then Pyro was running in earnest.  Tourists were always fooled by cassowaries, with their vibrant blue heads that were so very pretty.  To hell with those those murder peacocks.  They were basically feathered dinosaurs, and they’d kick your guts out like an extra on Jurassic Park.  

The fact that none of this made any sense at all did not occur to Pyro.  He was too busy flailing as an errant foot sent him down into the sand again, this time getting stepped on by a few people.

“Augh!  Fuckin’…….gettoff!  Gettoff ya cunts!”  He pushed himself up, dazed, as the crowd receded into the distance, fully intending to burn every god damn one of them, which they totally deserved for trampling him into the dirt like that.  Although he might have to burn a few cassowaries, first.

Two booted feet suddenly appeared in the sand before him.  Pyro looked up, and immediately regreted it.  

The man wore thigh-high black leather boots, and what appeared to be a red diaper held up by odd suspenders crossed over his chest.  And nothing else.  Pyro was not a prude, or someone disgusted by the male body (quite the opposite, in fact). But he had no desire to see anyone dressed like that.  Especially not Fabian Cortez.

“You poor dear, those brutes have left you behind! Are you hurt?”  With a dazzling smile, Cortez offered Pyro a hand up, and the threat of murderous birds on their heels was enough to make him take it.

“Not to worry, my beauty,” Fabian continued before Pyro could even respond.  “I’ll save you!  You can be part of my harem when I defeat the emu army and am declared emperor for life!” He swept Pyro into his arms with surprising ease, and began sprinting down the beach.  

“Put me down, you sleazy piece of – “  Over Fabian’s shoulder, Pyro saw a cloud of dust on the horizon behind them.  The ground rumbled with the sound of powerful, clawed feet.  “Never mind, please keep carrying me.  And run faster.”

“Haha!  Don’t fret, my precious flower!  Those birds are no match for the mighty thighs of Fabian Cortez!”  

“Uh-huh, that’s great.  But I’ll just torch a few to discourage them from getting too close, shall I?”  The dust cloud was getting bigger, and Pryo could faintly see beady eyes and geaming claws in the mass.  He felt in his pockets for his lighter.  Then he felt again.  Then he desperately ran his hands all along his body, praying that he had it in some shirt pocket, even tucked away in his shoe.  

“Stop fidgeting, my cuddly koala!  I know you must be going nearly mad with desire, being so close to me, but please control yourself until I can deal with this crisis. Then I promise I’ll give you full and complete satisfaction, until you faint from sheer delight.”

“Where’s my bloody lighter you wanker?”  Pyro yelled, yanking on Fabain’s long red braid. “I need my lighter!”  

“You don’t need that!”  Fabian argued.  “You only need me!”

“I.  Need. My.  Fucking.  Lighter,” Pyro growled, punctuating each word with another yank on the braid.  He tried to focus on the anger, and not on the panic that was bubbling up in his chest.  No lighter meant he was completely and utterly exposed.  His powers meant fuck-all without fire for him to grab hold of. Because God forbid the fire-manipulating guy actually be able to create fire, right?  That would make things too easy.  

“Don’t get hysterical, my darling wallaby!  Upon my word as a gentleman and supreme mutant, I’ll protect you.  We just have to get to the high ground!”  

“What high ground?”  Pyro exclaimed, but suddenly they were right in front of the Sydney Opera House.  Which was miles away from Bondi Beach, nowhere near running distance, but what the hell.

“We shall climb to safety, my exquisite dingo. And from there I can come up with a strategic plan to save the country –“  Fabian was interrupted as a cassowary charged at him, kicking and squawking.   He jumped back with a rather undiginified squawk of his own.  The birds were all around them now, jabbing and kicking with beaks and claws.  

“Never mind, Allerdyce, it’s every man for himself! I’ll remember your sacrifice, my dearest Tasmanian devil!”  Fabian dropped Pyro, leaped onto the wall and began climbing.

“Wait just a damn minute, you piece of – “   Pyro began climbing himself.  It shouldn’t have been possible to scale Sydney Opera House, but somehow he was doing it, and very quickly went from the main building up onto the shell-like half-domes that protruded up from the roof.

“We’ll be safe up here, my sweet funnel-web spider! Emus and cassowaries are flightless birds!”  Fabian called down.

“I know they’re flightless birds, I’m from this country!”  Pyro looked down for a moment, at the dark mass of birds gathered below him.  There were thousands of them.  Which wouldn’t be a problem if Pyro just had his damned lighter, but of course he was one of the few mutants that needed some outside “help” to use his powers. Fuck genetics right up the arse.  

But it was okay, as long as they stayed up high on the building.  

Wait.  There was a flurry of activity down below, and Pyro saw, to his disbelief, the birds starting to stand on each other’s backs.  

“Climb faster, Cortez!” he yelled up, but soon they reached the tip of the tallest shell, and there was nowhere else to go.          

“I don’t suppose there’s the slightest chance you’ve got some matches in that diaper of yours, is there?”  Pyro asked in despair.

“I’m afraid not, my beloved duck-billed platypus. The only hot thing inside my pants is – “

“Shut UP, Cortez!”  Pyro looked down, and immediately regreted it.  The emu-cassowary “ladders” were working their way up the building.  

“Look!  Up in the sky!”  Fabian pointed at a dot far in the distance.  “Is it a bird, or perhaps a plane?”

“That’s not really a pressing issue right now, Cortez!” Pyro snapped, but he paused to look at the dot all the same.  It was quickly getting bigger, as if approaching them.  In a moment, it took shape, revealing the sillouhette of a man.

That in itself wasn’t so strange.  There were all sorts of mutant flyers, both men and women. But there was something especially odd about this one.  There were thin, wing-like appendages that seemed to be protruding out of his face. Then the figure came close enough to recognize, and Pyro groaned.  This was the only thing that could make his day worse.

“Greetings, friends!” exclaimed Sebastian Shaw, looking far cheerier than usual.  “It seems as though you need some assistance!  Let me read to you from the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People!”  

He was wearing his usual rich-as-fuck business suit, but…his hair.  Pyro realized with growing disgust that Shaw’s sideburns had grown freakishly long and seemed to move of their own accord, like the tentacles of some deep-water sea creature.  It appeared to be the primary thing holding him aloft.

“Shaw, what the fuck?!”

“Who is Shaw?”  Sebastian looked innocently confused, a completely alien expression on his face.  “I am the Flying Capitalist, my friends, and I’m here to help people help themselves! I know that with the proper encouragement, you two can overcome adversity, just as I once did!  I worked 13-hour shifts in the foundry starting at age 9, and it made me the man I am today!  Here, have some applications for a management training program!”  Shaw tossed paper down at them.

“Or maybe you could carry us out of here?” Pyro asked.  “Since you can fly and all that…..somehow.”  The sideburns fluttered like pennants for the world’s most disgusting baseball team as Shaw bobbed up and down with the air currents.

“Yes, save us, Flying Capitalist!”  Fabian begged.  “Or at least save me, if there’s only room for one!”    

“Oh, I could carry you to safety.  But would that really be helping you?”

“Yes!”  Pyro exclaimed.

“Nonsense!”  Sebastian waved a hand.  “The real assistance is to help you help yourself.  After all, give a man a fish and he eats for a day.  Teach a man to fish, and he becomes your competitor. But, teach a man to sweep floors and carry buckets of cod, and you can employ him at minimum wage in your fish processing plant!  Everyone wins!  But especially me!”  

“What the absolute bloody fuck are you talking about?”

“There are no free rides in this life, son,” Sebastian continued, now looking stern.  “I’ve done all I can at this point.  You’ll have to get yourself out of this.  Just pull yourself up by your bootstraps and levitate!”  

“That’s completely impossible!” Pyro said.

“Nothings impossible if you’ve got will and drive! It’s the American way!  They said I’d never bring sideburns back, but look at me now!”  

Pyro was trying not to.  The horrible, undulating waves of hair stretched too far across the sky.

“Just pull yourself up, Allerdyce!  You can do it!  Actually, I doubt you can, but it doesn’t matter.  Progress and industry don’t slow down for the incompetent.” Sideburns flapping, Sebastian started to rise into the air again.  “Read Atlas Shrugged!”

“Shaw, have you got a lighter?  At least toss me a lighter!”  Pyro called after him.

“Boooootsraaaaaps……”  came Sebastian’s voice, faint on the wind as he flew away into the clouds.    

For a moment, Pyro and Fabian looked at each other, then back down at the ground.  The emu and cassowaries, piled atop each other, had created a massive living wall that was now dangerously close.

“Maybe we can negotiate?”  

“With who exatly?”

“I think that’s their leader!”  Fabian pointed at a small figure, perched atop the head of the central cassowary.  If Pyro squinted, he could see that it appeared to be wearing a tiny crown and mantle.

“Oh look at it, it’s so cute!”  Fabian gushed.  “Look at its little whiskers and paws!”  

It was cute.  The tiny rodent – Pyro thought he remembered it having some silly name….pootalo?  Poorooto? – gazed up at them with unreadable black eyes.  It twitched it’s adorable little nose, and held out a tiny paw.  Then it turned the paw in a very clear thumbs down gesture.  

“Oh, for fucks sakes!”  Pyro exclaimed as the emus surged forward, up towards them.  

“Maybe we can appease them with a sacrifice!  Forgive me, my petite salt-water crocodile.  I’ll never forget you!”  Cortez grabbed Pyro and attempted to shove him off the ledge.

“Like, hell, Cortez!  You’re coming down with me!”  Pyro wrapped his hands around Fabian’s neck and held on as they tipped forward past the point of no return.  For an instant they were tumbling down towards the sea of birds and the cold dark eyes of King Potoroo –

Then, Pyro jerked awake and felt himself hit the floor.  He flailed around frantically for a moment, and realized that he was sprawled in his cabin on the Marauder  

“Ugh…..”  Pyro lay still while the wave of nausea that always accompanied his hang-overs washed over him.  This time it was accompanied by a sense of relief as the nightmare faded.

“What the god damn hell was that all about?”  Pyro muttered aloud.  Was it some kind of extremely problematic expression of suppressed guilt for living in a country founded on colonization?  Pyro didn’t really dwell on it, but he was well aware of Australia’s bloody history.  Was it his own underlying insecurity about his powers, which at times seemed to reduce him to “guy with flame-thrower”?  Was it a twisted version of his latest romance novel, first draft still halfway completed?  Was he somehow punishing himself for past crimes by dreaming about the two worst people in the entire world?

As his vision came into focus, Pyro spotted the bottle lying next to him.  Tequila, laced with mescaline, which Shinobi had acquired on the black market.  Shinobi, who was still on the bed, snored peacefully, with every inch of the sheets wrapped around him in a satin cocoon.  

Well, that explained it.  Throwing on a pair of shorts, Pyro staggered out to the top deck, and tossed the bottle overboard.  Never again. 

FYI: Fabian is wearing this outfit from the terrible sci-fi movie Zardoz.  I’m so sorry.

[popculturebuffet]

Mickey Mouse Birthday Shortstravaganza!

It’s Mickey and Minnie’s Birthday! It was 92 Years Ago Today everyone’s faviorite mouse came in on a tide of whistling, romance and animal abuse and swept into America’s hearts and wallets. Okay I am a day late on this, I had a busy day, but hey a belated celebratoin’s still good right? Right? Eh i’m doing it anyway.   Anyway since then he’s been one of animations most iconic characters, and while out of the classic power trio I vastly prefer donald and goofy, they still woudln’t be around without Disney’s big cheese and having not seen a ton of Mickey’s shorts, I felt I owed it to the big eared one to take a look at a bunch of his shorts for his birthday and see how I liked em. If your curious about my previous Donald Duck marathon, it’s CLICK THIS LINK.  Unlike last time all of these shorts are on Disney+ as more of Mickey’s library is on there and one or two of these were added recently, as Disney tends to add a few a month. I do wish there were more on there.. but unlike with say the handful of shows they haven’t put on there, i’m a bit more forgiving here. For one thing, YouTube has all the shorts available from various uploaders and DIsney hasn’t touched them despite Plus’ launch. Given like most companies Disney usually has their bots a cirlcing for their content, this has to be delebrate on there part and it’s a good gesture from the company. So while not in crisp HD like the Plus copies, or as easily avaliable, you can find any short that’s happened. So the shorts not all being up at once isn’t an issue like most of the shows that are absent on Plus. 

They also heavily need to cherry pick their library as some shorts simply haven’t aged well or have offensive stuff. With the exception of “The Beach Picnic”, which has a racist caricature of native americans via ants.. yes really, most of the shorts are fine to show kids, and have aged pretty well. And as my last marathon showed some shorts.. just haven’t. While not you know racist, seriously why is the Beach Picnic on there?, “Donald’s Penguin”, while utterly adorable at first, ends with Donald trying to murder a baby penguin with a shot gun. No amount of content warnings is going to get past one of their beloved icons pointing a shotgun at a baby. While Disney’s self conciousness can be silly, the splash edit and not putting the Darkwing Duck episode “Hot Spells” on plus for instance, this is one time when I can agree with them: if someone is curious about a paticuarlly offensive short or a propoganda one, youtube exists. But given Plus is trying to be all ages and dosen’t have censoring they have to be careful what they put on there, and I can respect that. I don’t think anyone’s crying a river over the fact that the goofy short where his reflection keeps saying “Hey Fat”, over and over while he struggles with his weight isn’t on Disney Plus and thankfully never will be. But seriously get rid of the “Beach Picnic”. It’s not a good short and you already have one batch of native american stereotypes with “Peter Pan”, I don’t think racist ants are the hill you want to die on disney.

So yeah, this time all of these are from Disney Plus, and since I watched them all at once, their in Watch order rather than chronological like last time. So with all that out of the way...

After the cut

1. Steamboat Willie (1928): It’s All Fun and Games Until Mickey Strangles an Innocent Duck Starting from the obvious source, Steamboat Willie was the start of Mickey’s career. And it’s.. okay. The animation is fantastic and the first half is pretty good: Theirs a pretty good gag with one of the cows. But the finale, with Mickey abusing various animals just isn’t that funny A LITTLE rattling of an animal for comedy is fine.. but the things Mickey does here are just sociopathic> And yes I know it was the 1920′s, but even in that lawless, racist, sexist time, they knew better than to strangle a duck, or, in the moment that puts it over the top, remove suckling pigs fromt heir mom and then play a pig’s teats like an insturment to make it squeal musically.. I assure you I did not make this up. That actually happens.  The pacing is also fairly slow at points, with some gags dragged out, though that can be chalked up to having no way to edit the damn thing, so that part I can forgive more.  What makes up for it, like I said, are some good jokes, and some gorgeous animation. Decades later and while clearly made a long time ago, it still looks vibrant and really pops even in black and white. It shows just how talented Disney was and how far the company could go with this medium.  One last thing to note is Mickey’s Early personality. While he’d retain trickster aspects at times, here he bounces between the loveable jolly mouse we’d come to know for the rest of his career who sometimes has a wild streak.. and a total asshole who strangles a duck. It’s just intresting to see such a diffrent side of him,  most of which would end up going to Donald over time. Overall the short is decent, not the best of Disney’s catalogue but worth a watch for the historical significance despite it’s shortcomings, pun unintended. 

2. Thru the Mirror (1936): That Was a Weird One This was easily my favorite of the bunch and as of now, my favorite Mickey Mouse Theatrical Short. Part of it is that it’s entirely bonkers; The film STARTS with Mickey , sound asleep, some how astral projecting as his soul, his spirit or whatever lead shis body and having been reading Alice Thorugh the Looking Glass, goes into a mirror world. But instead of encountring evil goatee mickey, he encounters a bunch of living objects and a bunch of fun set pieces for jokes ensue. He dances with playing cards, fights an army of them, has a sword fight with the king after dancing with the queen which.. no Mickey, bad mickey, your in a relationship and so is she. Bad Mouse bad. It is entirely fucking insane, even including a living nut cracker which.. words can’t.. look

They.. they had to know how this looked right? did the director have a ball busting fetish? I mean okay if he did, nothing wrong with that, but maybe don’t put it in your children’s cartoon.  That being said it does eat the shells which I find creative. And that’s what really makes this one pop. The creativity. Not a single minute is boring, every minute has something intresting going on, but without throwing too muchi n your face. It’s just a wonderful short and one that like Mr. Duck Steps out, i’ll be rewatching a LOTTTT. 

3. Mickey’s Rival (1936): Mortimer: The Original Bro From the same year we have disappointment. Having grown up with the disney classic House of Mouse, I was a huge fan of Mortimer. So when I first saw this, I was happy to see where he came from.. then justifably blocked it out of my mind till this review. While I love mortimer, I love Mickey having a sleazy rival and one diffrent than Pete who has different goals and tactics than the big guy. But his debut just has him as an obnoxious snickering bro.. which to be fair is who he is, but without the venre of charm his later version would have.  Mortimer just spends the short being a pranking douche, and blatantly hitting on Minnie in front of Mickey while their on a date. Which even in an open relationship is a no no, so he has no leg to stand on.. metaphorically. He also walks weird in this one because, and this is true, he’s carying 9 volt batteries in his pants. Yes really. That’s the level of Douche we’re dealing with. Someone so up their own ass they carry batteries int heir pocket instead of money or a mask or children’s trading cards like a normal person or a me.  What makes it frustrating is Minnie just swoons over the guy. And not like “Awww he’s so funny”, I mean romantically then has the gaul to say “your just jealous” when Mickey is understandably fuming over the jackass who swooped in, pranked him, is hitting on his girlfriend in front of him by teasing a bull, and in general is just the worst. Yes.. yes he is. Justifably. Jealousy is an ugly emotion but there’s a line between some dude bro like Mortimer getting mad your friends with someone you could be in a relationship with, boy, girl, neither, both, whatever your into, and Mickey getting mad his girlfriend is chuckling all over her ex who agian, crashed their date and treated him like garbage and is very transparently hitting on her in the middle of it.  It’s also just not a very funny short, outside of the bit pictured and tha’ts more for the sheer aburdity of Mortimer elctifying his pant for a really dumb gag about stealing people’s pants button. He’s very lucky we didn’t see Mickey’s Epic Mickey is what i’m saying. But given he’s a frat bro, the 1930′s version granted but a bro nonetheless,  he’d probably find that hilarious until he noticed the sheer size and scope.  Overall a forgetable, frustrating short. The one bright spot is mickey and mortimer’s cars which have faces and stuff and look neat.. otherwise it was just a waste of my time and the only good thing it did was bringing Mortimer into our lives. And that ain’t nothing. 

4. Mickey Down Under (1948): ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

This is a quick one.. because this one was a vacum. I mean I can at least say for Mickey’s Rival it’s interesting.. i’ts not good but it’s interesting. this is just.. Mickey farts around with a boomerang with his dog and then pisses off an ostrich. There’s not really a lot of consequence or intrest is what i’m saying. I can’t even find a good opening to make a letterkenny joke. No one got close to fucking an ostrich here. It’s telling by the fact theirs no gif’s of this one that no one cares and it baffles me this is one of the ones Disney chose to gussy up for D+ release. But still no donald messing around with a robot? 

5. The Band Concert (1935): That’s More Like It.  Okay scooting back a year we have the band concert. This is my third time watching this one and it’s a delight. Like the last one I don’t have a ton to say.. but it’s more because this one is just so good rather than because it wasted my time. It’s got a fun concept and the breakout performance from my boy donald duck as he constantly fucks with the band’s performance by either getting in their faces or hilariously pulling Flute’s out of thin heir. I miss that gimmick for donald, his love of pulling objects out of the either via magic and shenanigans. They should bring it back. Also his shenanigans remind me of opus and that’s never a bad thing. 

Also Horace takes off his shirt. For the Ladies. A Classic for good reason. 

6. On Ice (1935): Donald is a Bastard Man Another great one from the same year. This time around we have what i’ve come to call a Mickey and the Gang Messaround. This is back when Donald and Goofy were supporting characters, so generally each of the big three do something, usually coming together for the climax.  In this case Mickey tries to help Minnie with her skating, with him adorably following her around with a pillow before showing off for her, just really sweet stuff. Goofy’s bit is hilariously dumb, as fitting my boy, as he feeds fish tobaco to get them to spit into a spitoon, and tries to club them, with predictable results. While not the most enivrionmentally friendly just the sheer oddness, the fact it sort of works minus him actually clubbing them, and one of hte fish smacking him in the face all make it work.  The only bit that reallyd osen’t is Donald and pluto... it was present a bit before but here illustrates why I really dread Pluto based shorts. While I don’t hate the dog, he’s a dog I love dogs, most of the gags in his old shorts, and even up to mouseworks are him either being blamed for shit that’s not his fault, a pet peve of mine, or being tourtured in some way...

But dosen’t work at all now. He puts the poor dog on skates and then laughs at him and even sings a song mocking the poor dog, before justifably nearly ending up going over a watterfall, then ending up clubbed in the head. Good. I love donald but good god is he unsympathetic here.. and for some reason they teamed the two up again for more shorts! Why. It’s why I don’t get why Pluto was the star of his own shorts: if this is all they had.. why do it? Was the 30′s, 40′s and 50′s equilvent of a micheal bay audience really that into dog abuse?  So yeah otherwise a good short but that segment drags it down. not Donald’s best work. 

7. Clock Cleaners(1937): This is a Great One Not much to say on this one. It’s pretty good, has some fun set pieces, and some great jokes from all three characters. Mickey deals with a seagull, donald effs with a main spring and Goofy fights some statues. All good clean fun. My lack of brevity is more because I don’t have any jokes rather than this genuinely being bad. It’s pretty good. 

8.. Mickey and the Seal(1948): More Pluto Torture Porn! 

This one’s more of a mixed bag. On the one hand, it is really cute, as a young seal ends up going home with mickey after he visits the zoo to feed them fish. On the other hand.. it’s mostly Pluto chasing after the seal, Mickey being kind of a dick to pluto and not getting he clearly saw SOMETHING in his house, and then teasing him at the end despite him having been right. That being said the ending, with the seal brining back all it’s buddies to mickey’s house, is fricking amazing. ALso the seals in this unvierse who aren’t antrho can speak. That.. that raises a lot of questions I don’t think disney can answer. 

9. Ye Olden Days (1933): Jaunty Dueling Music Now this.. this was a fun one. Mickey and Minnie head to Medivil times, proving that the current shorts tendency to jaunt to various settings isn’t a new thing, and it’ sjust a much of a fun change up here as it was there. Mickey, a wondering minstral, ends up trying to rescue Minnie after her father throws her in a dungeon for not wanting to marry Prince Dippy Dog, who hopes she can learn to love him. I can’t tell if he’s genuine or a dick here. But it’s fun, especially the part where, after Minnie declares she loves mickey which.. it’s been a few hours slow down, they decide on a duel and thus sing some ragtime, 1930′s getting ready for duel music that’s just catchy. if X Of Swords ever gets a movie, I want to use this song. Just.. really good stuff. A fun short with some great gag,s a great concept, and my boy goofy as the villian. What’s not to like? Alright one more. 

10. MIckey’s BIrthday Party (1942): Big Chicken Breasts We end on another all together now, Mickey and the Gang Messaround that was a great note to end on. I did watch another short, Pluto’s Birthday party.. but it was both more of a Pluto short and more Pluto torture nonsense, so yeah, skipping that one, as I ended up one short of my 12 goal because I can’t count, apparently. So Mickey gets 10, but this one’s a good note to go out on. 

Minnie throws a suprise party for mickey which almost turns into a live sex celebration as Mickey clearly is a wee bit horny going in. But it turns into a fun dance party, with Donald throwing out razzes like a good buddy, Goofy making a cake, and some fun gags with a piano they all bought him. It’s a really good short. That’s the problem with Mickey Shorts and doing all D+ ones: There just isn’t the weirdly offensive stuff to talk about there is. He’s not a bad character, but there’s a reason in every short that features all three, Donald and Goofy easily outshine him. Mickey’s not a bad character, but when not in trickster mode, there just isn’t a lot for him to do. It’s why the comics reinvented him, much like they did for donald, into a plucky detective/reporter who reguarly sovles crimes. He’s not bad, and as seen with Ye Olden Days and Thru the Miror, his blank slateness cna be put to good effect and house of mouse gave him more of a personality, but here he’s just the bland good guy to Donald’s loveable scmap and goofy’s loveable dumbass. It’s an issue comedy has to this day: having a lead whose just.. not as intresting as the rest of the ensemble.  There is weirdness to note, as Donald dances with Clara Cluck> That’s not the weird part, he and daisy took a while to be etched in stone. The weird parts are 1. Donald wearing a sombrero and smoking a cigar, and 2. Clara’s MASSIVE boobs.. yes really. Clara Cuck has giant breasts. Like actual boobs that sway around while she dances with donald. it’s.. bizzare. Not terrible, who doesn’t like big chicken boobs but just.. really really weird to see ina  Disney cartoon.But yeah it’s jus ta fun note to end on. 

And that was MIckey’s Birthday special. I enjoyed it even if I had less to say than I thought. If you liked this review, you can comission your own for five bucks, just hit up my pms or my discord , avaliable on request. You can check out my ohter disney reviews in the disney tab on my blog and until next time, ther’es always another rainbow. 

[ceealaina]

Title: In My Dreams I Turn You On - Chapter 3 Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A3 - Free Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers Summary: Tony’s crushing hard on his new massage therapist, but doesn’t want to be a sleazy businessman. Bucky’s crushing hard on his latest client, but doesn’t want to take advantage of him in a vulnerable position. So they handle it like any sane adults - pretend it’s not happening and refuse to discuss it. At least they both have terrible friends to help them through it. Word Count: 17,235 Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

It had taken some doing, but with a quick rundown to Rhodey — who had fallen off the couch he’d laughed so hard — Sam had managed to talk Bucky into joining them at the gala. Tony was busy making the CEO rounds, hadn’t made his way over to them, or even spotted them, but they’d seen him once or twice. Bucky had sounded like he’d been punched in the gut the first time, eyes focusing in on Tony’s ass like they were laser targeted. 

“Oh man,” Rhodey laughed, shaking his head as he sipped on his champagne. He patted Bucky on the back consolingly. “You’ve got it bad, huh?” 

Bucky just whined, raking his hands through his hair. “He’s just so handsome,” he sighed, watching as Tony walked across the room. 

Sam shook his head, pulling the champagne flute out of Bucky’s hand and knocking the rest of it back himself. “Okay, you’re cut off. Can’t go talk to him if you’re fall-down drunk.” 

Bucky stared at him with wide eyes. “I can’t go talk to him!” he hissed. 

Sam just shook his head, leaning into the arm Rhodey had around his waist and resting his head on his shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “I can’t believe this is the guy that Tony’s so in love with,” he added, body shaking when Rhodey burst out into loud laughter. 

And that made Tony look over, eyes crinkling happily at the familiar sound of Rhodey’s laughter. And then he did a double take, eyes going absolutely enormous as he realized who they were standing with. Rhodey was still snickering as they watched Tony stammer out an excuse to the group of executives and practically stumble his way over to them. 

“Hey,” he said, waving vaguely at Sam and Rhodey, sounding breathless. His eyes were trained on Bucky a small smile playing over his lips like he couldn’t believe he was there. “Hi,” he added before staring back and forth between the three of them. “You know each other?”

“Wait…” Bucky’s eyes shot over to where Sam and Rhodey were snickering loudly. “You know each other?”

They both looked utterly lost, and Rhodey took pity on them, elbowing Sam when he was laughing too hard to speak. “Tones, Tones, this--” He gestured dramatically at Bucky. “Is Sam’s best friend, Bucky.” 

Tony’s eyes grew impossibly wider. “You’re Bucky??” 

Rhodey choked on another snort of laughter. “And Bucky, this is my best friend, Tony. Stark.” 

“See?” Tony yelped, turning on Rhodey because his brain couldn’t focus on the real issue at hand right now. “See, I told you to let me throw your wedding. This is what happens when you elope! I would have met him two years ago if you’d just had an actual wedding instead of eloping to Niagara like a couple tacky tourists.”

Bucky looked like he was maybe having a heart attack, it was hard to say for sure. “You said he was a mechanic,” he said, voice sounding strangled. “And then Sam started laughing, but I thought that meant he was a bad mechanic, not, you know… Not a mechanic.” 

“Hey!” Tony protested. “I’m a mechanic! Wait, what do you mean, you thought I was a bad mechanic?” 

“Oh no!” Bucky’s eyes went wide, mouth twisting into a grimace. “I’m sorry, I mean… I didn’t mean like that, I’m sure you’re a great mechanic.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “You can’t be a worse mechanic than I am massage therapist,” he added.

Tony frowned at him. “What do you mean? You’re a great massage therapist! You’re amazing!” 

“Yeah, so amazing that I’m spending half our sessions thinking about how bad I wanna fuck you,” he grumbled, before promptly choking on air as he realized exactly what he’d said. “I mean… Oh god.” 

Standing forgotten beside them, Sam snorted again before leaning in close to Rhodey. “I think it’s gonna take awhile,” he told him. “We could probably come back.” He made a show of looking Rhodey up and down, licking his lips as his eyes lingered on Rhodey’s throat. “Wanna go… Refresh our drinks?” he offered, grinning when Rhodey nodded enthusiastically. 

Tony was staring at Bucky in shock, still not fully processing what was happening right now, and Bucky immediately went into panic mode. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, not even noticing as Sam and Rhodey snuck off. “I… I’ll hand in my resignation immediately, that’s so inappropriate, oh my god.” 

“No!” Tony said quickly, finally snapping back into focus. “No, it’s okay. You don’t have to quit. It’s fine!” 

“It’s not fine! That’s such a breach of trust. You’re in a position of vulnerability, and… I mean, I know I didn’t do anything, but that’s still such an abuse of power, and --,” 

He cut himself off abruptly as Tony suddenly started laughing, the sound closer to a giggle. Even in the midst of his panic, Bucky had the stray thought that the sound was absolutely adorable. He blinked at him. 

“Are you… Are you laughing at me?” 

Tony immediately clapped his hand over his mouth, shaking his head. “No!” he insisted, reaching out to grab Bucky’s wrist, like he thought he might try and leave. His hand was warm, fingers calloused, and Bucky nearly shivered at the contact. “I’m not… I’m not laughing at you. I’m just laughing because I was literally thinking the exact same thing. That it would be an abuse of power because, well… Technically I’m your employer.” 

His eyes were trained on Bucky’s, but his thumb was tracing a delicate line over Bucky’s wrist, distracting him, and Bucky shook his head. “No, it’s different. You’re not my direct supervisor, and…” He trailed off as he realized exactly what Tony had said. “Wait, what?” 

Tony shrugged, a soft smile playing over his lips. “Uh, surprise? Apparently we’re both a couple of clueless idiots.” 

“Holy shit,” Bucky breathed. He twisted his wrist to catch Tony’s hand. “Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath and rubbing his prosthetic hand over his mouth. “Okay. Tony, I’m afraid that, effective immediately, I can no longer be your massage therapist. I’ll be transferring your file back over to Louise on Monday morning.” Then he grinned wide. “Now, can I please buy you a drink?” 

Tony grinned, looking absolutely delighted. “You know the drinks are free, right?” he couldn’t resist teasing. 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you later.” 

***

When Rhodey and Sam returned half an hour later, Bucky and Tony were sitting side-by-side at a table, barely-touched glasses between them, talking animatedly about something or other. 

“Oh my god,” Sam groaned exaggeratedly, still a little giddy. “You two are still here? You didn’t immediately run off to ravish each other?”

Tony turned to give him a dirty look, and his eyes caught on their mussed clothing, Sam’s tie shoddily tied and crooked, the hickey on Rhodey’s neck. “Oh my god. Really?” 

Rhodey just arched his eyebrows back at him. “Not the thing to focus on, Tones,” he returned, giving a pointed glance between the two of them as he curled an arm around Sam’s waist. “Are you two gonna kiss, or should we go... ‘refresh our drinks’ again?” 

“God, I hate you,” Tony muttered. But then he looked over at Bucky, his eyes catching on his lips, delighting in the way that Bucky flushed a little and bit at his lower lip. Grinning, Tony shifted forward and curled his hand around Bucky’s neck, leaning in to kiss him gently. The gentleness lasted only a minute before Bucky was making a soft, desperate noise, tongue coming out to trace over the seam of his lips, and then Tony was kicking his chair away to stand up and move closer, tipping Bucky’s head back as his other hand threaded through his hair. Bucky moaned, and his hands moved to grip Tony’s hips, pulling him in close between his legs, neither of them seeming to notice that they were still in the middle of a party. 

“There we go,” Rhodey said. 

“Annnnd that’s our queue to leave,” Sam added, hauling Rhodey away. “Get a room!” he added over his shoulder. 

Neither Bucky nor Tony seemed to actually hear him, but Tony did pull back, grinning down at Bucky while he stared up at him with wide eyes. He scratched his fingers over Bucky’s scalp, and Bucky shivered at the touch. He hands clenched around Tony’s hips again, sliding slightly lower and stopping just shy of squeezing his ass. Tony drew in a shivering breath, and dropped back into his chair only to pull it close and lean into Bucky’s space. 

“Does it make me a complete cockhound if I wanna leave with you, like… Right now?” he asked, voice rough. His hand settled high on Bucky’s thigh, thumb tracing over the seam of his pants. 

“Oh god,” Bucky muttered, swallowing hard. He huffed out slightly stupid laugh. “Do I look like the kinda guy who cares, Tony? Also, I kinda figured that’s what I was getting into. Your reputation does proceed you, ya know?” 

“True, fair, valid, all good points,” Tony was nodding enthusiastically, his thumb moving closer and closer to Bucky’s cock, half hard in his dress pants. “But, uh…” He ducked his head a little. “Don’t believe everything you read,” he added softly, giving Bucky a crooked smile. “I do have a squishy, candy centre.”

Bucky arched a brow, smirking at him. “Now that I know you’re the mechanic that Sam and Rhodey are always talking about, I have a suspicion.” He narrowed his eyes then, tilting his head as he considered Tony. “And what’s the back half of the joke, there?”

Tony smiled serenely back at him, looking ridiculously pleased with himself. “Wanna get out of here and see how many licks it takes to get to said squishy, candy centre?” 

Bucky made an involuntary, punched out noise. “Yes. Yes, please.” 

Tony beamed back at him, and then seemed to realize there was still a party going on around them. “Shit, okay. I just gotta…” He leaned in and gave Bucky a quick kiss, lingering just a second longer than he’d obviously intended. “Wait right here,” he said, still grinning a little stupidly. “I’ll be right back.” 

He was gone before Bucky could say a word, and he took advantage of the moment to take a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He had a glass of ice water on the table, sweating in the warmth of the room, and Bucky sipped at it, his eyes automatically tracking Tony as he maneuvered around people and tables. He watched as Tony tracked down a gorgeous red-headed woman, pulling her in close and murmuring something in her ear. He had half a second to feel jealous before her eyes went wide, and then her gaze landed on Bucky on return, and she smiled wide. Shaking her head, she leaned back to say something to Tony in return and then kissed his cheek. Tony beamed and then he was darting back over to Bucky, bypassing a group of important looking men and fiddling on his cell phone at the same time. 

“Okay!” he said, grabbing Bucky’s hand and pulling him out of the chair with surprising strength. “Follow me, quickly, before anybody else decides to try and network.” He gave an exaggerated shudder at the thought and grinned before hauling Bucky around the outside of the room and then out an unnoticed side door, leading him down a back staircase. Bucky couldn’t help laughing, reeling with the excitement of sneaking around. 

“You do this often?” he asked, light and teasing. 

Tony cast a look at him over his shoulder. “Less often than you might think.” He turned back completely to give him a quick kiss, humming when Bucky’s hands grabbed his hips, pulling him in for a longer one before he could pull away. “But,” he added. “It doesn’t hurt to have an escape route for when those rich old octogenarians start getting a little too handsy.”

He grinned when Bucky barked out a surprised laugh, then gave his hand another tug. 

“Come on, baby. I promise I’ve got somewhere much more comfortable than a dingy stairwell to make out in.” 

Bucky grinned right back at him and then they were hurrying back down the stairs, coming out into a side street where there was a limo waiting. Tony shooed him into the backseat first, climbing in so close behind that he was practically on top of him. 

“Home please,” he called, eyes locked on Bucky’s. “And, uh, Happy? Don’t mean to be rude, but I’m going to be closing the partition.” 

“I’d prefer it, boss!” the driver tossed back cheerfully. 

The second they were underway, Tony turned to face Bucky expectantly, waiting less than a second before he was leaning in to kiss him. He pressed in so close he was half on him, and in the relative privacy of the car, Bucky didn’t hesitate to grab his ass, gripping tight and hauling him in closer. He felt Tony’s lips curl into a smile against his own, and then he shifted so he was on top of Bucky, straddling his thighs. He rocked down against him, half hard cocks grinding together, and Bucky had to break away from the kiss to tip his head back against the seat, trying to catch his breath. This didn’t deter Tony at all, who took advantage of the new position to leave little nipping bites on Bucky’s throat. 

“Good Christ,” Bucky breathed, shivering when Tony’s teeth dragged over his adam’s apple. 

Tony did pull back then, looking entirely too smug. “Everything you thought it would be?” he asked, batting his eyelashes a little ridiculously and fuck, Bucky was maybe in love with him. 

“Better,” he promised fervently. His voice was little more than a hoarse growl, and he didn’t miss the way that Tony’s eyes darkened with interest at the sound. 

“Well.” Tony’s eyes were caught on his lips again, tongue flicking out like all he could think about was tasting them. “I do my best.” 

“Fuck, come here,” Bucky groaned, squeezing his ass again and pulling at him until they were pressed together, chest to chest. He wrapped his arms tight around him, using his strength to rock Tony in his lap, and the other man seemed to melt against him. 

“Oh fuck,” Tony moaned. “I’ve been dreaming about you doing that for months.” 

“Yeah?” Bucky moved him again, this time grinding his hips up against Tony in the process. “Like that?”

Tony keened, loud enough that Bucky legitimately worried that the driver — Happy — might have heard. “Fuck. Your goddamn arms, James.” 

“Oh god,” It was less sexy, this time, and Bucky pulled back, shaking his head with a grin around his lips. “Don’t call me James. Please don’t call me James. Nobody calls me James, not even my ma.” 

Tony leaned back too, grinning when Bucky’s hands held his weight so he didn’t tip off his lap completely. He gave him a perplexed look. “What else am I supposed to call you?” Then he made an exaggerated face. “Oh. Oh no. Tell me I’m not supposed to call you Bucky.” 

Bucky just gave him a half shrug and a crooked smile. “‘S my name, sweetheart. James just feels weird.” 

“It’s how you introduced yourself to me!” 

“I was being professional! Nobody’s gonna take me seriously in my job if I’m going by Bucky.” 

“But they’ll take you seriously in bed? Your logic is flawed, Barnes.” Tony was laughing though, a twinkle in his eyes, and he gave a heavy sigh. “Fine. But I can’t be held responsible for any slip ups. I’ve been imagining calling your name in bed for quite some time now.” 

“God, you’re a menace.” 

Bucky wasn’t even sure how he made it back to Stark Tower without him completely losing it in the back seat, but the next thing he knew, the car was pulling to a stop in the garage. Tony pulled away from him with dazed eyes, blinking like he’d forgotten where they were entirely. It was a good look on him.  

“Right,” Tony said. “We’re here.” He shook his head then, trying to get his bearings. “God, you make me stupid,” he said, laughing. “Come on, let’s go.” 

He pulled Bucky out of the car. There was no sign of Happy, and Bucky had a brief moment to wonder if he’d run away that quickly, or was just hiding out in the driver’s seat until the coast was clear, before Tony was practically shoving him into a small elevator. 

“Private elevator,” he explained when it started to move without any buttons or voice commands. “Goes straight to the penthouse.” He was blatantly looking Bucky up and down, practically vibrating, like he was itching to touch but knew if he did he wouldn’t be able to stop himself again. 

Bucky could relate. 

The elevator shot to the top of the building in what was probably record time, and Bucky stepped out into a living room area. He’d known who Tony was, obviously, but he still couldn’t help the way his jaw dropped at the wall of glass looking out over the city.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “What an incredible view.” 

“Yeah,” Tony said from just behind him, and Bucky could hear the smirk in his voice. “View’s incredible.” 

Bucky glanced over to find Tony blatantly checking out his ass. He lifted his eyes, arching a brow at Bucky with a wicked grin on his lips, and Bucky shook his head.

“Menace,” he repeated, moving closer to back Tony against the wall. He shoved a thick thigh between Tony’s legs, rocking it against his hard cock and smirking at the way his eyes rolled black, breath escaping in a shuddering exhale. “You got a bedroom in this fancy-ass joint?” he asked, leaning in close enough that his lips were almost pressing against Tony’s with every word. 

Tony shivered, but then he was grinning right back. “You sure you don’t want a drink or something first?”

Bucky groaned, dropping his forehead to rest against Tony’s shoulder. “You make me wait much longer and I might start to cry.” 

“Well that certainly wouldn’t be sexy,” he agreed with a stupid little giggle, even though that barely qualified as a joke. 

Bucky adored him. 

“Follow me, handsome,” he said, catching Bucky’s hand and pulling him down a hall and through a doorway. 

The view from the bedroom was no less spectacular, but Bucky was more stuck on Tony’s ass as he moved down the hall in front of him, and then the frankly ridiculously enormous bed sitting in front of them. 

He felt a little thrill go through his stomach, the idea that they were actually doing this, after months of pining and thinking that it would never happen. “Jesus, okay,” he said, feeling just the slightest hint of overwhelmed. “How, uh. How do you want to do this?” 

Tony smiled at him, like he could tell how Bucky was feeling. “Well I, for one, have been itching to see you naked, hot stuff. Seems only fair, really, after all the times you’ve seen me in nothing but my skivvies.” 

Bucky flushed a little, thinking of the time that Tony’s ‘skivvies’ had consisted of nothing but a bright red thong. “That’s different,” he protested. ‘I was working.” 

“Uh huh.” Tony sat on the end of the bed, legs spread wide, and Bucky’s mouth went dry as his eyes were drawn to the bulge of his cock, marring the line of his dress pants. “Except you already told me about all the dirty thoughts you were having while ‘working,’ so you want to try that excuse again?” He shifted his hips a little, moving a hand to stroke himself through the fabric. “Come on, handsome. Give me a little show?” 

Bucky felt flushed and hot all over, but Tony was looking at him so hungrily that he couldn’t help the surge of confidence that went through him. He took a couple steps back until he was just out Tony’s reach and then met his gaze steadily, slipping out of his suit jacket. It came off easily, despite his tendency to get stuck in the arm even when he wasn’t nervous as all hell, and he couldn’t help being relieved. Dropping the fabric to pool on the ground, he dragged his hands up his sides before moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. He could feel his nipples peaked against the silky fabric, and he made a point of dragging his thumbs over them, choking off a moan at the sensation that spiked through him. 

“Oh yeah,” Tony breathed, his voice rough. “You like that, huh?” 

Bucky nodded, pinched until his eyes rolled back. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice breathier than he’d intended. “A lot.” 

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m going to have fun with you.” is 

Bucky felt a jolt of desire go through him at that thought, his cock jerking in his boxers, and he moved back to the buttons, unfastening them quickly now, until he was shrugging off his shirt and left in just his tank top and dress pants. Tony looked him over, leaning back a little on the bed, right hand rubbing over his clothed cock. 

“I like this,” he told him. “It’s a good look on you. Like you’re right out of the thirties, or something.” 

Bucky couldn’t help grinning at that, let his hand slide over his hip and tease the bottom of his shirt up. He liked working out, he knew how nice the cut of his hips looked. Sure enough, Tony’s tongue flicked out of his lip before he chewed at it, swallowing hard. 

“Come on. Don’t be a tease.” 

Bucky snorted, but his dick was aching and he just wanted Tony to touch him. He tugged the shirt up hastily over his head, shaking out his hair as he was left bare chested. Before Tony could say another word, he was moving to undo his pants with slightly fumbling fingers. He kicked them off quickly, toeing off his socks in the process. Then, when he was left in nothing more than his boxer briefs, he finally looked back up at Tony with a crooked grin. 

He was expecting more teasing, another snarky comment, but the look on Tony’s face sent a shiver up his spine. Tony was staring at him, slack jawed, eyes running up and down Bucky’s body like he couldn’t figure out where he should look first. His hand squeezed around his dick and he gave a low moan, hips jerking up at the touch. 

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, swallowing hard. “Sweetheart, come here.” Then he was reaching out, making grabby hands in Bucky’s direction, and Bucky was helpless to resist. 

He moved towards him, letting his hips swagger just a little, and his grin grew wider when he saw Tony’s eyes zero in the on the movement. But the second he was close enough, Tony’s hands were closing tight over his hips, yanking him in between his spread legs. Tony moaned softly, leaning in and scraping his teeth over Bucky’s lower abdomen, and Bucky groaned, felt his abs clench as he tipped his back and scrubbed a hand through his hair. 

“Gotta…” Tony’s voice cracked, and he cleared it, tried again. “Gotta let me blow you, honey, please. You have any idea how badly I… Every time you were giving me a massage, when you came up around the head of the table, all I could think was how easily I could suck you off, how much I wanted to.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky swore. “Good thing I already fired you as my client. I’d never be able to get through another session, now that I know that.” 

Tony grinned up at him, eyes crinkling in delight, and then his smile turned wicked and he mouthed his way lower down Bucky’s stomach, until his chin was bumping the tip of his cock. 

“Come on, Bucky,” he purred, teasing over his skin. “Tell me I can.” 

“Yes,” Bucky said quickly. “Yes, fuck, ‘course you can.” 

Tony positively beamed, and then Bucky was whining as he pulled away entirely, tipping forward without Tony’s grip keeping himself upright. He caught himself on the edge of the bed, watching as Tony turned around to crawl up the length of the mattress and dig through the bedside table. Bucky’s gaze caught on his ass, perfectly framed in his dress pants, and he groaned again. 

“Oh my god,” he muttered, moving to sit on the side of the bed before his legs gave out entirely. “I’m gonna die.” 

Tony huffed out a laugh, and then he came back over, condoms in one hand, lube in the other. “Well,” he said, stepping off the bed to loom over him, tossing the items on the mattress beside Bucky. “At least try and hold out for the fun stuff.” 

Then he was dropping to his knees, shoving his way between Bucky’s spread thighs, and leaning forward to mouth at him through his boxers. His mouth was warm and wet, the sensation dampened through the material, and Bucky cursed again. Something about Tony on his knees, still fully dressed was especially appealing to some primal part of Bucky, and his cock jerked. He could feel a drop of pre-come sliding down his length and then further, following the seam of his balls. Tony leaned back again, looking extremely pleased with himself, and then he was tugging at the waistband of his shorts, poking at Bucky until he lifted his hips so Tony could pull them down his legs. 

For just a minute Tony sat back on his heels, staring. “God, look at you,” he breathed. Normally Bucky would have felt self conscious under the heat of his gaze, but instead he found himself almost preening, body heating deliciously under the weight of Tony’s stare. His cock twitched again, and he could tell Tony had noticed by the way his lips curled at the corners. “Eager are we?” he teased, but there was a soft tone to his voice, and an instant later he was reaching for one of the condoms on the bed, opening it and then sliding it down Bucky’s length with efficient, practiced movements. 

God, Bucky couldn’t wait until they could do this without anything at all. 

The moment Tony’s mouth was closing around the tip of his cock, Bucky was practically wailing. Fuck, he was so good at this, all hot pressure and perfect suction. The muscles in his thighs tightened as he fought the urge to thrust up into Tony’s mouth, his fingers twisting into the sheets so he’d remember to keep his hands to himself. He couldn’t help the way his eyes rolled back, falling shut as Tony pulled back a little, flicking his tongue out to tease at his frenulum, but a second later he was snapping them open again, not wanting to miss this. 

Tony was looking up at him, eyes dark and heavy and a hint of a smile playing around the corners of them. He pulled off again with an obscene sound. “God, you’re big,” he hummed, half to himself, and Bucky felt his cock twitch again. Then Tony was smirking up at him. “It’s okay, you know,” he said, voice hoarse and rough already. 

Bucky blinked back at him, uncomprehending, and Tony’s grin grew a little more self-satisfied. He picked up Bucky’s hands in each of his, prying them free of the sheets and then moving them to the back of his head, biting down on his lip when the cool metal brushed against the back of his neck. Bucky swallowed hard. 

 “I like it,” Tony told him. He leaned back in, licked a line down the length of Bucky’s cock, showy and a bit desperate. “Pull my hair, a little. Whatever you want.” 

Before Bucky could say another word, he was sucking him down again, steadily, methodically working his way to taking all of Bucky. The tip of his head slid into Tony’s throat and he swallowed around him, and Bucky gasped, twining his fingers in Tony’s hair and tugging reflexively. He had half a second to feel guilty before Tony was groaning around him, sounding so obviously hungry for it even with his mouth full of cock. 

“Christ,” Bucky bit out. His hips hitched up despite his best efforts, pushing himself just the slightest bit deeper, and Tony groaned around him again. He had one hand curled around the base of Bucky’s cock, but the other he used to grip at his thigh, pawing needily at the sensitive skin until Bucky rocked up into him again. “Oh fuck me,” Bucky moaned as they settled into a steady rhythm, Tony swallowing greedily around him. “You’re so fucking good, Tony. ‘m not gonna last long.”

Tony hummed encouragingly around him, and Bucky thought he was going to pass out at the rush of pleasure that shot through him. Then Tony’s free hand was slipping off his thigh, sliding between his legs to rub at his own dick, like he was so turned on by sucking Bucky off that he couldn’t wait, and Bucky was gone. 

With a slew of curses, he was coming, fingers tangling further in Tony’s hair as the other man teased him through it. Bucky shivered his way through the aftershocks, breath coming in sharp, heavy gasps, until he was oversensitive and twitching and Tony was pulling back, looking ridiculously pleased with himself. 

“Holy shit,” Bucky gasped, flopping back on the mattress to stare dazedly up at the ceiling. “That was… Holy shit.” 

There was a soft, delighted laugh from Tony, before he crawled up beside him, nuzzling into Bucky’s neck. “Good?” he asked. 

“Good doesn’t begin to cover it,” Bucky assured him. “Jus… Jus give me a minute. ‘M all about reciprocation, I swear.” 

Tony giggled into his skin, leaning further into him. He shifted so his cock was pressed against Bucky’s hip, rocking into him shamelessly. “Won’t take long,” he admitted, panting against Bucky’s skin. “Christ, you’re gorgeous when you come.” He sucked a mark into the underside of Bucky’s neck. “Want you so bad.” 

Bucky grinned at that, and with a carefully placed shove he had Tony on his back, looming over him. Tony went wide eyed at that particular move, and Bucky smirked down at him. A second later though, his face turned distraught. “Good Christ, how are you still dressed?” he asked, not even caring how plaintive he sounded. 

Tony just groaned, arching his hips up against him. “Later, baby,” he groaned. “I promise, later I will strip naked, and lay on the bed, and you can stare at me for six hours straight, if you want. But honey, I’ve gotta come like five hours ago.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes at him, like Tony being so desperate wasn’t making his own cock give a valiant attempt at getting hard again. “Yeah, alright,” he purred, sliding his hand down Tony’s body to work his pants open. The second he got his hand around him, Tony was melting into the mattress. “Oh fuck,” Bucky murmured. “Look at you, sweetheart.” He closed his hand firmly around him, mouth watering at how thick he was, and the desperate noise Tony made as he started jerking him off with quick, steady motions. “Can’t wait to take my time with you. Lay you out, spread you out on the bed…” He dipped his head, kissing over Tony’s neck. “Take my time with you, drag it out, tease you until you’re screaming for it, can’t remember your own name.” 

Tony’s hands grabbed at Bucky’s sides, gripping tight enough to bruise as his back arched in pleasure, head tipping back. “Yes,” he choked out. “Yes, fuck, Bucky please. All of that, I want… I want…” 

His words trailed off with a low groan, and when Bucky shifted his weight so he could tease metal fingers up his length, Tony came. He clung tight to Bucky’s body as he did, back arching, eyes squeezing shut, breath coming in thick heavy gasps for air, mixing in with a desperate whine. Bucky stroked him through it, kissing him sweetly in the process. 

“Oh fuck,” Tony moaned as the aftershocks finally stopped going through him. Bucky pulled away enough to flop down beside him, and Tony turned his head to beam at him, giving him a slow, lazy kiss. Then he shifted, and his nose wrinkled up in distaste. “Oh fuck,” he said again. “Well, these pants are ruined.” 

Bucky burst out laughing at that, and Tony’s smile turned soft and sweet again. 

“So, I definitely need a shower. But, uh… Maybe you wanna join me? And uh… I know it’s not usually the done thing after a first date — Does this even count as a first date? I mean, it was more of a right place right time kind of thing, not something that was actually planned. Although, knowing Rhodey and Sam, it actually was completely, totally planned, because they’re assholes like that. Which, hi. You already know that, obviously, because you’re friends with them, and that’s kind of a trip, really. Now I’m trying to think of everything I may have said about you and how embarrassing it was on a scale of one to that time at MIT I was simultaneously drunk and sleep deprived and kind of accidentally robbed the bookstore in nothing but a red thong and the permanent moustache marker that Rhodey drew on my face.” He suddenly clapped both hands over his eyes.”Oh God. I have this thing, when I get nervous, I kind of talk incessantly… Please, why aren’t you saying something? Save me from myself.” 

Bucky had been watching his diatribe with a bigger and bigger smile on his face, but at Tony’s desperate plea he leaned in and kissed him quiet, not stopping until they were both out of breath and Tony was giving him that wide-eyed, dazed stare again.

“I would love to stay the night,” he told him, just a little shy. “Uh. That is what you were asking, right?” 

Tony’s gave him a bright, open grin. “Yeah, it was. And the fact that you followed that through that entire fucking monologue I gave? I think I lo… like you. A lot.” 

“Yeah?” Bucky bit his lip and grinned back. “I think I like you a lot too.” He leaned in, kissing Tony one last time before hauling himself off the bed and pulling Tony along after him. “Come on. I’m looking forward to seeing what fancy rich people’s showers look like. And by the way?” he added, blatantly ogling Tony as he finally stripped out of his clothes. “You’re going to have to tell me how you managed to accidentally rob the bookstore, I kind of insist on it.” 

“Aw come on, handsome,” Tony teased, waggling his eyebrows as he sauntered off to the bathroom, blatantly wiggling his hips as he went. “Gotta keep the mystery alive!” 

***

A week later, Tony was heading into his favourite open air cafe for a lunchtime date with Bucky when he spotted a familiar blond head. 

“Oh hey!” he chirped, sliding easily into the seat opposite to Steve. “I forgot. Thursdays are your day to awkwardly flirt with the waitress, right?” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Eat my entire ass,” he returned, just as cheerfully. “We can’t all hook up with our massage therapists.” He gave Tony a fond smile then. “How’s it going with your new boytoy, anyway?” 

Tony couldn’t help grinning at just the thought of Bucky; he knew he looked sappy, and he didn’t even care. “Amazing,” he sighed. “He’s meeting me here for lunch, actually, if you want me to introduce you.” 

Right on cue -- because they were in sync like that -- Tony spotted said boyfriend walking up the sidewalk toward him. 

“Hey baby!” he called, hopping up and waving Bucky over. “Come meet my friend Steve.” 

Because he couldn’t resist, he met Bucky halfway, giving him a soft kiss hello before practically dragging him over to Steve’s table. 

“Steve, this is --,” 

Steve looked up at them and grinned. “Oh! Hey, Buck!” 

Tony stared back and forth between the two of them, Steve smiling obliviously and Bucky looking more and more pained. 

“You two know each other?” Tony asked faintly. 

“Yeah!” Steve told him. “It’s Bucky. You know, my paintball friend? I know I’ve told you about him before. We grew up together? And now we meet up every couple months? Go paintballing or axe throwing or whatever, and -- Ow!” He ducked and winced as both Tony and Bucky simultaneously whacked him on the shoulder. 

“What the fuck, Rogers?” Tony demanded. He gestured wildly at Bucky. “This is James, my hot massage therapist! You knew him the entire time?” 

Steve offered up his most innocent smile. “Whoops?” 

@tonystarkbingo

[hydrospanners]

Justw ondering what your writing process is like?

It’s me, ya girl, coming at you with an answer twenty years after you asked the question!!! Sorry for the delay; I’m actually really excited to answer this! And I’m excited to be excited to answer this!!!

I am a Perfectionist, Anon. It is not a good quality. For most of my life, I was so petrified by the possibility of someone seeing something I hadn’t polished within an inch of it’s life that I wouldn’t even acknowledge I had a process. I wouldn’t mention I was writing something until it was completely done out of fear that they might want to talk to me about it when I hadn’t finalized everything and I might not represent my very best possible creative work. Also I never really thought of myself as being enough of a writer to have a process. That seemed too good for the likes of me!

But here we are now, in the Year of Our Thor 2019, and I am psyched to tell you every detail of my process and show you a side by side of my first draft and final product!!! That is so much progress for me, Anon, and I didn’t even realize I’d made until you sent me this so thank you!!!

(This is going to be long--please hold your gasps of surprise--so I’m putting the rest under a cut. Seriously I just finished writing this post and it’s an absolute BEAST.)

So my process!! I’m actually trying to make some changes to it to be more supportive of my efforts to kick the Perfectionist habits, but right now it basically looks like this:

1. There is an idea. Often times it comes from a question, like “How would Rea deal with what I’m feeling right now?” or “Is this a problem in space?” or something like that. Other times it comes from a snippet of dialogue that occurs to me while I’m listening to a song or watching tv or driving or in the shower or something. Sometimes it’s as minor as a gesture or a mood. Sometimes I’m just trying to exercise a certain muscle as a writer. This fic sprang up out of me wanting to work on describing settings. Wherever it comes from, I have the idea. I open a new Google doc and I slap down as much of the idea as I have developed.The lines of dialogue or the question I want to answer or just a few sentences about what I want to show or what I’m trying to achieve.

2. Time passes. I might work on the fic in feverish fits and starts, obsessing over it for three days and then ignoring it completely for three weeks. I might not look at it at all. The fic sits fragmented in my WIP folder and marinates. Usually this happens for about 1-3 years after the fic’s initial conception. I’m not joking about this. I think my average time for completing a fic is 2 years. The reason for that is the aforementioned Perfectionism.

3. I get tired of looking at in my WIP folder and/or I commit to some kind of special event/holiday thing. Fictober rolls around and I go on a kick of completing and editing the stuff in my WIP folder or I just get annoyed with myself for not completing things or it’s suddenly Arbor Day again and I have that tree-related fic I started two years ago that I could finally finish! This is when I buckle down and Write The Damn Thing. Once it’s written, I do an immediate edit and then I try to sleep on it for at least one night before going back and editing again. After that I usually like to sleep on it at least one more night before hitting publish. Sometimes I don’t have the self-restraint for all of this or I’m doing an event where I’ve committed myself to publishing something every single day, so the timeline gets compressed to a few hours between edits instead of a full day.

As for my writing set up, I’ve really leaned in to writing wherever I am and whenever I can. That’s more or less why I only write fic in Google Docs even though I passionately love Scrivener. (All my original work, which is more involved, is done on Scrivener.) 

I do a lot of writing in the quiet, early hours at work when I don’t have work to do. I do probably my most efficient writing when I hit a diner or coffee shop after work and settle in with my iPad and a snack. I can’t distract myself with doing chores or playing games like I do at home, and working on my iPad makes it annoying to switch tabs and apps and do other stuff while I write. Plus I’m eager to get home and take my pants off so that motivates me to let Perfectionism go and write something bad just to hit my goal so I can leave. At home, I’m usually on the couch with my iPad because I get too distracted at my desk on my PC with two enormous screens making it so easy to do other stuff instead of write while telling myself I’m doing other stuff at the same time as writing.

As you can see!!! I spend most of my “writing time” just trying to make myself at all!!!! It’s really daunting to overcome the fear of writing something bad and big parts of me would rather not write at all than endure the pain of failing at creating what I want to create so thanks Perfectionism!!!

I also have a really, really bad habit of editing while I write. I won’t say I’m the world’s worst editing-while-writing writer but I’m definitely top 100. (Bottom 100?) It’s a huge reason why I have those 1-3 year gaps between start and finish and why my first drafts come out so choppy. My inner editor has me rewriting before I’ve even finished writing and redirecting and it’s so disheartening I can only do it in fits and starts and you can clearly tell the places where I took a two month break before coming back to a fic.

But I’m working on this!!! Like I said, I try to go out and write as much as possible because the desire to be at home without pants on often overpowers my fear of Being Bad and makes it so much easier to give myself permission to write badly. That is the goal. Write Badly. I’m working on it and I’m making progress but I have a long way to go still. For now I have to rely heavily on supports like controlling my environment but one day I will be able to write absolute drivel on demand!! The dream!!!

And now, for your entertainment and to celebrate the fact that I am now somehow able to do this at all, I give you the first draft of the forsythias chapter from fill my lungs with sweetness, including the masterful original title:

??oil?????

Doc slips his hand from the inside of his jacket as he rounds the corner and walks straight into the steel-melting heat of Kira’s glare. Or maybe that’s just the extra sun. Hard to tell on Tatooine.

“Done shopping, Your Highness?” She asks, rolling her eyes at him before she’s even finished asking the question. “Think we can fit saving some lives into your busy schedule?”

Doc just laughs, patting the little bulge in his breast pocket. “People expect a dashing hero when they’re being saved, Junior. I’d hate to disappoint.”

“No one cares how waxy your mustache is when they’re bleeding out,” Kira says. “Ugh. Let’s just go.”

Vii is waiting for them by the speeder, having an improbably good-natured chat with a Gamorrean at least three times her size. They seem to be actually smiling at her, which is something he knows from medical school is technically possible but never expected to see. Kira’s inching her fingers toward her laser sword, always ready to leap headlong to the worst possible conclusion, but Doc waves her off.

He congratulates himself that, despite the withering look she gives him, Kira lets her hand fall. She trusts him at least as far as Vii’s well-being is concerned.

(He isn’t sure how he feels about how everyone seems to know just how deep his interest in her well-being goes.)

“Making friends?” He calls out, keeping his walk casual and slow and his hands clearly visible and clearly far from the blaster at his hip. The Gamorrean’s smile fades at his approach, replaced with the kind of slow-moving suspicion Doc is more used to seeing there.

Vii, however, does not stop smiling. Instead, she turns that smile on him. Brighter and more blinding than both of the suns combined.

“Gorzzak was just telling me about some problem spots in the canyons,” she says, her voice as light and tinkling and utterly sincere as ever. “Nice of them, isn’t it?”

And the thing that he still can’t believe, no matter how many times he sees it, is that it really is nice. Because he’s sure that Gorzzak really did point out all the spots he would normally use to lure unsuspecting travellers into ambushes. He’s sure that Gorzzak, even with only three neurons to rub together, has been absolutely dazzled by the obvious shine of Vii’s heart, just like everyone is.

Doc swallows, his throat starting to feel unbearably thick. Probably from all the sand.

“Very nice,” he agrees. “But I’ve got something even better.”

“How is your mustache wax a gift for—“ Kira stops as she catches sight of his eager grin, her face screwing up in an expression he’s starting to think she saves just for him. “Disgusting,” she mutters, her voice low enough that Vii won’t hear. It isn’t the best-kept secret, but Kira, for all her faults, loves Vii too much to shatter her illusion of secrecy like that. Not even to make a dig at Doc.

Vii watches as he reaches into his breast pocket, her expression openly anticipating the surprise, her glowing eye wide and perfectly prepared to be delighted with him. It’s such a refreshing change of pace, how eager she is to be happy with him. To like him. She never makes him work for it and honestly he doesn’t always know what to do with that.

But right now he does.

He produces the little flask of oil with a flourish and his signature self-satisfied grin. Kira would call it his sleazy smirk, but how can he be expected to think of Junior when he’s got Vii in front of him, beaming like this wretched planet’s third sun.

Doc doesn’t entirely understand everything that happens to him when she radiates like this. When she unleashes the full force of her joy on him and he feels thoroughly cooked from the inside out.

“It’s the good stuff,” he explains. “Imported from Corellia. I’ve only been once, but I remember everything was coated in a fine layer of oil so they probably know a thing or two about making it. Anyway, I know how the joints can lock up with all this sand around. Thought you could use some… lubrication.”

This last point is made for Kira’s benefit, and her revolted snort does not disappoint him.

“The doctor is on call, Gorgeous. Anytime you need oiled up, my hands are ready.”

[c4a1234-blog]

Don Burke - Australia’s Harvey Weinstein

For almost two decades Don Burke was one of the most powerful men in Australia's entertainment industry. His popular gardening program Burke's Backyard was a ratings juggernaut for the Nine Network until it was unceremoniously axed in 2004.

But now a major Fairfax Media/ABC investigation can reveal that behind the scenes those who worked with Burke claim he was a "psychotic bully", a "misogynist" and a "sexual predator" who indecently assaulted, sexually harassed and bullied a striing of female employees.

"He was a vile, vile human being," said Bridget Ninness, a former producer on Burke's Backyard, who later launched legal action against Burke for psychological abuse. "He was lewd and he was crude" and his constant talk of sex was "designed to confront you and to demean you", she said.

Louise Langdon, a former researcher, was subjected to ongoing harassment by Burke which included trying to remove her top, and on another occasion Burke "put his foot into my rear end, with the view to checking the tone of my ... my backside". He then stated that the firmness of her "backside" wasn't "up to scratch".

"I loathed him, he was just a pig. He was lecherous and sinister," said another former researcher who alleges she was indecently assaulted by Burke.

Even David Leckie, the former chief executive of the Nine Network, said he wasn't surprised to receive our call about Burke. "I've been trying to think of Harvey Weinstein-type people [in Australia] and the only one I can ever come up with is Burke. He was a horrible, horrible man," he said.

Unlike Weinstein, Burke is not accused of rape, but the more than 50 people interviewed during this investigation have made serious allegations about Burke's actions.

"Don Burke was a disgrace because of his behaviour internally and externally," said Sam Chisholm, Leckie's predecessor at Nine.

Chisholm, a stalwart of the industry, also described Burke as "terrible grub". Asked if he felt the network had done enough to rein in Burke's behaviour, Chisholm said he didn't know.

Did anyone ever come to him personally about Burke? "Probably they did, but I don't know. It's a long time ago," he said.

"I think the public that have loved him should know the real Don Burke," said another former highly placed Nine executive. "If Harvey Weinstein's been outed, Don needs to be outed."

However, in a written response, Burke angrily denied comparisons to Weinstein. "I loathe the reported behaviour of Mr Weinstein and hope that the legal system deals with him in such a way as to prevent this happening again.

"The bitter irony is that I have had a life-long opposition to sexism and misogyny. Burke's Backyard was a lone bastion of anti-misogyny since its inception in 1987," said Burke.

"He is a high-grade, twisted abuser," said Ms Ninness, who eventually settled out of court with Burke's company over "sustained and systemic psychological abuse" in the workplace.

Burke was "two people", explained a former male crew member. There was the genial gardening guru on camera who was "very, very good at what he did". But off camera the real Burke was described by many of those interviewed as a psychopathic narcissist.

"He was an absolute sexual predator. He was a bully. He was horrible to people in the office. He would often have women in tears. He used to take great delight in it. It was like sport to him," said the former male crew member.

When journalist Tracey Spicer announced that she was investigating the behaviour of powerful Australian men in the media in the wake of America's now infamous sex scandal involving film mogul Harvey Weinstein, she was inundated with reports. One name kept recurring – Don Burke.

Among those who came forward was Ms Langdon, now a psychologist who lives in the United States. In 1987 Ms Langdon, then 27, was working as broadcaster Alan Jones' personal assistant when she landed a job as a weekend producer for Burke's gardening program on radio 2UE. She later became a researcher at Burke's Backyard.

"I was told before I went to meet Don that he was sleazy and to be careful," she said. "I was quite shocked about that because the only Don Burke that I knew was the affable Friday night Burke's Backyard gardener.

"So I thought, 'Oh well, how bad can it be?"'

As it turned out, nothing could have prepared Ms Langdon for what was to come.

"Dealing with Don Burke was an endurance test in terms of his persistence in commentary about anything sexual," she said.

On one occasion, while the pair was working at the radio station, Burke insisted she watch a video. To her horror it was a video showing a woman having sex with a donkey.

Ms Langdon was upset and disgusted. "Don was getting so much pleasure from seeing my reaction to it ... I was just, just ... speechless," she said. "I was really overcome."

Louise Langdon when she worked with Don Burke at 2UE. Photo: Supplied

Burke also subjected Ms Langdon to harassing behaviour – flicking her bra straps and lifting up her shirt to see the colour of her underwear. During a work trip in the Northern Territory he allegedly tried to remove her top.

"I was sitting next to Don on the bus and he decided that it was OK for him to put his hands on my T-shirt and try and pull my bra strap, my bra off and try to somehow remove my clothing. He was trying to take my top off," Ms Langdon said.

During the interview Burke said, "Our nickname for the receptionist is 'the fat c---', so make sure you call her that".

"I think he was testing me to see whether I would be shocked," the woman recalled.

The researcher said Burke had been telling her about a cocktail party he was going to that evening. "'You know what I love about cocktail parties?' he mused. 'It's the name tags. I get to grab women's tits while pretending I can't read their name."'

Burke was already standing uncomfortably close to her during the conversation when "suddenly he made this move and grabbed me, grabbed me hard on the breast. This was not a clumsy, oafish move. It was a calculated action. That is what was scary. It was premeditated. I jumped back. He sneered. 'You've got small tits, no one would want to touch your tits'."

Wendy Dent was employed as an entertainer when she met Burke at the Melbourne Garden Show in 1995. Burke came over, kneeled before the 21-year-old who was wearing a fairy costume, and asked to be granted a wish. In front of the crew and onlookers, Burke opened his eyes and said, "It didn't work. You've still got your clothes on."

Months later, when she had moved to Sydney, Ms Dent took up Burke's offer to audition for the show. Over the phone Burke was flattering, telling Ms Dent she had "real charisma" and great potential. "You definitely have got what it takes for TV," he told her and, what's more, he was "the No. 1 in the business" and he could make it happen.

He said "well, you'll have to audition, but you'll have to be topless".

As a result, she decided she wanted no part of this "sleazy slummy industry".

"These men become dream killers and I lost a career," she said.

One former crew member recalled Burke spotting a group of schoolgirls, aged around 14, holding a puppy.

"He stopped and chatted to them and said, 'Do you want me to show you how to hold the puppy properly?"'

Because it was the legendary Don Burke, one of the girls said, "Yeah, that'd be great."

"He showed them how to nurse it close to their chest, keep it nice and warm," the crew member recalled. "When they walked away he exclaimed: 'Give me three!'

"I said, 'three what?' He boasted that he had stroked her nipple three times while showing her how to hold the puppy," said the crew member.

Despite numerous complaints to Nine executives, both male and female employees were told to soldier on. "There was an institutionalised acceptance of his behaviour and it was actually not just an acceptance, it was an institutionalised enabling," said researcher Louise Langdon.

Leckie confirms that there were complaints made about Burke but suggested he heard them second-hand. "I am not going to mention any specific girls or anything like that," he said.

For one young television writer, the comments Burke made about a young female relative were the last straw. It was the late 1980s and the reporter was 21 when she first went off to interview one of Nine's biggest stars.

Burke continually interrupted the interview with lewd comments such as "I bet you're a demon f--k". The next year she was reluctant to interview him again, "but he was a very, very big star back there and I think that's what people need to take into account".

The second year Burke not only invaded her personal space but made suggestions as to what sexual positions she might enjoy. He also openly stared at and commented about her breasts. It was as though his body language was "I am staring at your boobs and I don't care if you notice, that's what I'm going to do", she said.

Her innocuous question about garden gnomes led to a vulgar comment from Burke about the size of his "cock". Her third encounter with Burke, an interview at his Kenthurst home, was her last.

When Burke said he had bought a horse for a young relative "because I love watching her rub her c--t on its back," the reporter snapped the tape off.

"I was absolutely and utterly repulsed by the man, I felt compromised, I felt violated, I just felt disgusted.

"I took the tape recording to the head of publicity at the time and said I want action. And the next day I received a bunch of flowers and that was the end of it."

There was no apology from Burke and no action was taken against Burke, who told Fairfax Media and the ABC that the story was a "total fabrication".

In 2004 Burke was unceremoniously dumped by the Nine Network after more than 17 years hosting Burke's Backyard.

Over those years countless employees allegedly suffered from Burke's bullying, lewd behaviour and sexual harassment. The network's failure to do anything to rein in Burke's behaviour leaves a bitter taste for many. "Every single person in management ... has known about Don Burke. Every male manager. There is not one that does not know," said a former Nine staffer.

Even the male managers found his incredible ego and narcissistic behaviour impossible to deal with, said the staffer.

"But in terms of the sexual harassment stuff, they didn't really give a damn. He was too popular, he was just too popular a celebrity," said one former senior employee at the network.

Another long-term male producer on Burke's Backyard said that management told staff "to suck it up because it was the No. 1 rating show, the cash cow for Channel Nine".

"Lots of women I know just left. There was a huge staff turnover," he said. "He had the power, the profile and the tacit backing of Channel Nine."

However, the Nine Network refused to accept any responsibility for Burke's behaviour. Questioned about claims that the network turned a blind eye to complaints and failed to take any action to protect their staff from Burke, Nine issued a statement saying: "Burke's Backyard was a production of CTC Productions and they employed and managed all staff."

However, some of Burke's worst behaviour allegedly occurred while the program was produced at Nine. In late 1991 Burke took over the production of his popular gardening program.

Nine also said they could find no records of complaints or payouts to any women in relation to Burke's behaviour.

One woman who did complain paid a very high price.

"He got off on terrorising [female researchers]. Women were his playthings and he loved seeing them shocked by his behaviour and language," said producer Bridget Ninness, who worked at Burke's Backyard for more than seven years from 1990.

Bridget Ninness worked as a producer for Burke's Backyard for more than seven years. Photo: ABC

On her first overseas trip as a reporter, Burke turned to her and said that if everything did not go smoothly, "I'm going to rip your f---ing head off and shit down your throat".

Ms Ninness was so nervous and upset she vomited. When she complained to the head of news and current affairs Peter Meakin, she alleges he said she needed to have "broad shoulders".

Fucking coward - Burke also claimed for the first time that he has Asperger syndrome, though he said it had never been medically diagnosed. He said he has trouble looking people in the eye and responding to body language.

[bronwyngreenauthor]

As usual, these aren’t in any discernable order–I’m just writing them as they occur to me.

10.) Friends to Lovers – I love a good Friends to Lovers romance. All that angst and uncertainty and fear about screwing up a perfectly good friendship? Loooooooovvvvvveeeeeee. Then the awkward morning afters and the inability to deal with the whole changed dynamic in the relationship? Love that, too.

9.) Enemies to Lovers – Enemies to Lovers is one of my all time favorites. I adore people who are getting their hate on but are utterly and unreasonably attracted to the object of their loathing. That whole trope is just delightful. And delicious. And dickish, because they’re always dickish to each other in the best ways possible. If the plot has a side of Forced Proximity, it’s even better. And when they finally come together (no pun intended to have all the hate sex? I. Am. There. For. That.

8.) Coworker/Office Romance – There is something that I adore about Workplace Romances. I think part of it is the emotional and social risks they take to be together that really appeals to me. This trope is almost always closely tied with the upcoming Secret Relationship trope which I also love. There’s something really satisfying about watching these two people who have to work together–no matter what state their relationship is in at the moment that immediately grabs my attention.

7.) Secret Relationship – As I mentioned above, this one is closely tied (for me, anyway) with the Coworker/Office Romance trope. There’s something I love about all the sneaking around, the having to pretend everything is normal when they’re with family/friends/coworkers even though they might have just finished having mind blowing sex in the closet. There’s nothing I don’t love about that dynamic.

6.) Second Chance – I’m a huge fan of this trope. I love seeing relationships work out the way they’re meant to for people–especially when you can see how much they belong together. And I love when they work through legitimate relationship issues in a meaningful way and when there’s been emotional growth by both parties. Reunion books are a big love of mine.

5.) Scars and Angst – I would be lying if I said that I didn’t love me a matching set of monogrammed emotional baggage. Bring me all the angst! ALL OF IT! However, said luggage needs to be realistically written and all of those emotional issues absolutely cannot be solved by the magic peen or the magic vag. That’s a hard nope for me.

4.) Fairy Tales – I love Fairy Tales in all their iterations and romantic retellings are often a good comfort read. One of my favs will always be Beauty and the Beast–which is handy. A lot of people like that one, so there are some great versions out there.

3.) Geeky Romance – I know a lot of people love their alphahole heroes, but I’m not one of them. I’d rather read a good geeky romance that are populated by people who are so much like the people I hang out with, that often, the characters seem like old friends. Characters who are smart, may be a socially awkward and who are are passionate about their nerdy interests and each other, too, This is my tribe.

2.) BFF’s Sibling – This is another one of those that usually slots in nicely with Secret Relationship, because there’s always so much at risk there. Not only the romantic relationship, but also the BFF friendship.

1.) Fling to a Thing – Another fave is Fling to a Thing. You know the one–both parties agree that it’s just going to be a no-strings fling and then they get all the feels? But they just keep fighting it. That is a thing of beauty.

Bonus Item.) Student/Teacher – I really love this trope–with some caveats. Not the super sleazy kind with an unhealthy power imbalance, manipulation, or coercion. NOPE.

Okay, so share. What are some of your favorite tropes? And if you can think of titles you love that involve any of my faves, please share those, too! And if you happen to be riding any of the same trope trains as me, may I suggest…

Rewritten: Coworkers Romance, Scars/Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Geeky Romance

The Professor’s Student: Student/Teacher, Secret Relationship, Fling to a Thing

Drawn That Way: Geeky Romance, Coworkers Romance, Secret Relationship, Fling to a                                       Thing

Out of Sync:  Friends to Lovers, Fling to a Thing, Secret Relationship, Second Chance

In Bounds: Enemies to Lovers, Coworkers Romance,

Finding You: Friends to Lovers, Scars and Angst,

Unexpected Gifts: Friends to Lover’s, BFF’s Sibling,

Be sure to check out Jess and Gwen’s posts, too!

Top 10: Story Tropes As usual, these aren't in any discernable order--I'm just writing them as they occur to me.