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definitelynotshouting · 4 months

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Ask game #25?

mcytblr writer ask game

25.) What works and/or authors in the fandom do you recommend?

OH MAN..... GODS OKAY well this is about to become me gushing about my friends, but i think everyone and their mother should be reading @raichett, @droidofmay, @good-chimes, @sillyfairygarden, @sisyphean-writes, @renardroi's writing. Like holy shit i know some incredible authors. Grim in particular went and fully changed my brain chemistry with his fic Total Apogee of the Heart, which i do believe i described to him as "like reading an oil painting," and "like you've taken an axe to my chest and deftly split it down the middle to show me the inner workings of my heart," which is truly the palest of terms i can use to describe something that ended up feeling so soul-shocking to me /pos. The skillful way he twists words to layer these rich, saturated themes into his stories makes me INSAAAAAAANE, its pretty much the epitome of how i want to write when it comes to thematic elements and imbuing my narratives with symbolism. I genuinely dont know how to describe it, but the way he crafts sentences and weaves in references to other media is like reading a fairytale, and it leaves me feeling like ive just resurfaced from a dream every time.

And, ofc, my very good and dear friend Raichett with their ACP-verse-- oh my gods what an incredible read. Reincarnation fic with modern minecraft worldbuilding FUCKING SIGN ME UP..... i think this might be my favorite fic in the fandom because truly you can just feel the heart-wrench of how long Grian has been waiting, of all those words left unsaid during his and Scar's initial conversation that we the reader happen to be privy to. AND THE SEQUEL!!! THEE SEQUELLLLL THE ONGOING SEQUEL RAAAAAAAHH okay im normal im normal im normal <- lying. It just manages to hit every fucking trope i love all at once so i start frothing at the mouth whenever it gets updated or they send me snippets. I could read Raichett's writing for hours and hours and just feel so warm within it, truly beautiful prose and characterization :]

And ohhhh Sisyphean my beloved..... if you havent been reading their anonymous scarian fic series then please please do so, especially Bread and Butterflies, a fic they gifted me that made me simultaneously want to cry and also curl up into for the rest of my life. Something about the atmosphere in their fics, along with the juxtaposition of their unique form of humor, really just knocks it out of the park for me. And, of course, the gut-wrenching wing scene-- trust me, you need to read this fic. The reveal is so incredibly well done that it feels like a gauze being lifted from your eyes so you can finally see more than the lurking silhouette of what's been hinted at. Beautiful fic and evocative writing, i dont feel like i can do it justice you're just gonna have to go read it for yourself >:]

Sorry i told you this was gonna be me gushing so i am going to gush can we talk about Droid's fucking fics please. Can we talk about those. I've always been captivated by their writing, worldbuilding, and the way they so deftly weave implications into their prose to present a fic that feels so neatly-woven it practically breathes. Every work i've ever read from them, regardless of fandom, is some of the most engaging writing ive ever read before. Not to promo a fic inspired by hunger au, but im especially enamoured with their gift will the curse be reversed if you say it backwards. Reading that was like getting kicked in the chest a billion times until it ached, and the way they portrayed the two Grian's dynamics brought me perilously close to tears multiple times while reading, which is admittedly very hard to do. Also i think reading that fic is the closest ive ever gotten to what yall experience whenever i upload a new hunger au chapter-- i stg the dread i felt as the fic progressed had me HOLLERING in their dms like "IS THIS WHAT THATS LIKE. OH MY GODS" truly just a phenomenal fic all around

Thello, oh Thello, my beloved friend, her fic you are here to risk your heart had ME heartbroken in the best of ways when i first read it, and every reread since has only solidified it as a stunning cross-section into 3L!scarian's dynamic. Thello's writing in general is always so deeply elegant and refined-- reading it feels a lot like shoving the world's richest, gooiest, most delicately-layered cake into my mouth to melt on my tongue. She just gets intimacy in a way i rarely see done, highlighting the fragile way people can come together while straining to stay apart. Her writing is so deeply, utterly human in the details she chooses to focus on, and that level of groundedness paired with her fantastical prose makes me feel like what im reading is both very real and also the whisps of a beautiful, colourful dream.

And, last but very much not least, my wonderful friend Telk. Telk's writing is so utterly unique, bursting at the seams with both humor and a quiet rawness that punches me right in the ribs every single fucking time. They're also so deeply, insanely skilled at being able to say so so much in a story while dancing around the actual core of it, drawing you into understanding whats really going on below the surface like an event horizon. Their fic A Certain Je Ne Sais What is, in my mind, a particularly good example of the subtle and skillful way they weave implications into their work-- im perpetually in awe of how meticulously they poured Grian's cognitive dissonance between how he really feels about Scar, and how he wants to feel about Scar, into the narrative. That, and their characterization is genuinely flawless, im not sure ive ever read better character voices that capture the inherent humor of their owners than in Telk's writing.

Gods i have so much more to say about so many more of my friends and their fics but i'll stop here otherwise i will never shut up. Local guy loves his friends so fucking much i will shout it to the sky any chance i can take<3

And as a bonus, here's the hermit/trafficshipping collection i run on ao3, affectionately nicknamed The Body Count!! Its chock-full of incredible authors and writing, all of whom are my close friends, and its recently expanded to contain 60+ fics!! 60+!!!! INSANE. MY FRIENDS ARE INSANE AND I LOVE THEM PLEASE GO READ AND COMMENT ON THEIR WORKS BC THEY DESERVE THE ATTENTION :] THANKS FOR THE ASK AAAAAAAAAA OKAY BYE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#shouting speaks #asks #ask game #fic recs #hermitcraft #traffic series #hermitblr #trafficblr #hermitshipping #trafficshipping #mcyt #this ask is basically me dancing around jingling like a silly little jester while aggressively gesturing to my friends #PLEASE PLEASE GIVE THEM COMMENTS THEY DESERVE IT #EVERYTHJNG THEY WRITE IS PURE GOLD #long post #txt

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chvnnie · 1 year

Text

Starlight

han jisung x reader

word count: 5.3k

genre: smut - MINORS DNI

warnings: dom!jisung, sub!reader, public sex, spit (just once), choking, oral (m receiving), nipple play (mutual), unprotected sex (let's not), dirty talk, jisung can be a lil rough? if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: Jisung will not settle for anything less than perfection.

a/n: thank you to nacific (see reblog for inspo) and phantom of the opera for fueling this. also my first full length fic in months? woooooooooo! she finally found her groove again!

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents han jisung as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @isilentprincess, @hugs4chan, @stranger-thighs, @beautifulcolorgarden, @scottmcallisdaddy, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @humayraaaaa, @americanokisses - comment/send ask to be added

It’s hard to believe that this is the best theater in the city. The seats are uncomfortable, creaking with every shift of weight as if they’re on their last limbs. A cool draft hits the back of the playwright’s neck, which he’s given up on avoiding long ago. Dodging it isn’t worth the terrible squeaking noise.

Though it may be preferable to the frankly horrid vocals of the woman center stage.

Where to even begin? On top of her pitchy, broken song, the monologue she’s chosen has gone on far too long. Jisung is surprised he hasn’t fallen asleep yet, head cradled in his left hand as he stares blankly off into space. From the moment she stepped out, he knew she wasn’t fit for the role before even opening her mouth.

“Give her a chance.” The director told him. “Her parents donate to the theater.”

God, he couldn’t give less of a shit.

The woman takes a breath, readying herself to continue, and his limit is reached.

“Thank you!” Jisung projects his voice, cutting her off before she even gets the chance. “Thank you. We’ll be in touch.”

Sighing deeply, the director shoots the playwright a sharp look. “She wasn’t finished-”

“It’s an insult to my work to let her continue.” Jisung snaps back. Hours. Hours he has sat in this seat, watching women come and go, none of them even coming close to the image he has in his head. Sure, there have been a handful of phenomenal actresses and vocalists in the group, but not the one. Not his.

It took years for Jisung to write the perfect play. Days spent in tears as he scribbled words and shredded papers, not stopping until everything is exactly how he wanted it to be. There is no compromise; not then, not now. Everything will be as it should be.

Even if it means sitting in this godforsaken chair for several more hours.

“How many more are there?”

The director flips through the resumes, counting under his breath. “Twelve.”

Twelve. Twelve more chances to find his star. “Tell me about the next one.”

She was lovely. Years of experience, pages of recommendations from mentors and directors. A strong, steady voice with an impressive range. When she sang, the theater shook with ghosts of applause she’s sure to hear someday. Carrying herself with grace and elegance, there’s no question that she was born for the stage.

Though it will not be on Jisung’s.

The next few women that follow are nothing too spectacular. Good, but that’s as far as it goes. Wonderful extras, understudies, or even minor roles. There are places for them in the show, but not the place they want to be.

“The next one,” the annoyance is thick in the director’s voice, at his wits end with the picky playwright, “has only ever held minor roles in her community theater. Has some formal training, but really doesn’t have much of a background. Frankly, I’m not sure how she even made the cut-”

“Everyone deserves a chance.” Jisung says, scanning the short resume. “Bring her out.”

From the second you stepped foot on the stage, the playwright was mesmerized. Though there was nothing “spectacular” per se about you, there was something. It gripped onto him, tugged him with a fervor he’s never quite felt before. Without even speaking, you’ve caught all of his attention and claimed it as your own.

Who are you? Why is Jisung just now meeting you?

Though you hold yourself with confidence, when you speak you stumble over words. As hard as you try, it’s impossible to hide the nerves that stage brings. It’s endearing, genuine. More personality than anyone who stood before you.

Your monologue is rushed. There are places that could use improvement; too quiet at some parts, the pause in the middle was too long. But those are minor issues, nothing that can’t be tweaked. What really hooks Jisung is your voice.

When you sing, he feels like he’s floating on the cloud. All the stars in the sky within arms length, waiting for him to reach out and steal them away. There’s no high quite like your voice, the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

The time spent together is too short. Before Jisung has had his fill, you’re bowing. Thanking them for their time. Disappearing before he can call out for you.

“Well.” The director sighs before chuckling. “I think we can agree—“

“She’s it.”

He stares at Jisung, jaw dropped in shock. “You have to be joking.”

“Nope.” He begins to pack his bag, tucking his notepad and stacks of resumes away. His work is done for the day. “She is who I want as the lead.”

“Jisung.” The director stands with the playwright, following him down the aisle. “There were many more qualified than her—“

“Is this your show? I don’t recall you writing it with me.” He keeps walking towards the exit, not slowing down. There’s nothing that will change his mind. “I’ve seen enough today. You can humor the rest, but I have found my star.”

///

You didn’t get a call back.

All day, you’ve sat by the phone. Staring, willing it to ring. They told you they would be in touch by the end of the day if they wanted to see you again. The sun has set long ago, and there hasn’t been a peep from your phone.

Shame. Embarrassment. Rejection. All weigh heavy on your chest, threatening to bury you in the cold dirt under your apartment complex. How silly it was of you to hope, to audition for a show by the Han Jisung. You were mocked; by so called friends, in the waiting room by other hopefuls. A few of them had to have received a call. They were beautiful, talented.

In comparison, you were nothing. So insignificant that they probably tossed your resume the second you stepped foot on the stage.

Sitting on the window sill, you bring your knees to your chest and rest your head upon it. Looking out the glass, watching as the white stars twinkle in the sky. They’re bright tonight, lighting up the city streets more than any streetlight could. What is it like to be one of them? To command the attention of all those around you, to shine brighter than any light ever could?

Suppose you'll never know, will you?

You’ve resisted the urge to cry all day. Holding it in, letting the bottle fill. There was no reason in throwing a fit until you know. But, now that you do, the dam breaks. Salty, warm tears rolling down your cheeks. Sparkling in the starlight.

What’s it like to be a star?

As your back begins to hurt, the familiar ring of your phone fills the teeny living room. Rolling your head over, you stare at the lit up screen. Projecting a number you don’t recognize.

Oh, a rejection call. Your favorite kind.

Wiping your tears on your sweater, you bring the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

Your ears begin ringing, a tingling feeling taking over your body as the director speaks. Telling you that the impossible is possible, even if he sounds disappointed to say so. The tears dry quickly, nails digging into your skin as you pinch yourself over, and over, and over. This must be a dream.

It’s not a call back. It’s not a rejection. It’s the role, if you choose to take it.

“The table reading is tomorrow at noon.” The director tells you, the realness starting to sink in. “Can you make it—“

“Yes!” You exclaim, quickly feeling embarrassed at your eagerness. “Y-yes. Yes, I can make it.”

There’s an exasperated sigh on the other end, but you don’t even care enough to dwell on it. This is all you’ve dreamed of, all you’ve wanted. Now it’s in your hands, glowing brighter than the lights that dance in the sky.

You’re too excited to sleep, waking up every hour to check the time. By 7:00 in the morning, you’re too jittery to stay in bed. There’s far too much to do; you have to make sure you eat a full meal, that you get a little exercise in. That you change your outfit five times because god, why does nothing in your closet fit the occasion? Do you have time to stop by a shop, or should you just make do with what you have—

There’s too much happening in your head, making it nearly impossible to calm down. Maybe that’s why you left your apartment an hour early when the walk is only twenty minutes. The sooner you get to the studio, the better.

Waiting is simply not an option anymore.

Unsurprisingly, the room is empty. Four tables clicked together to make a square, each seat complimented with a name tag and a binder. You find your place near the “head” of the table, between what you assume to be the male lead, and the playwright himself.

This is incredible. This shouldn’t be your life; no professional experience or schooling, barely held a lead role in a community show. You simply took a risk, expecting to be disappointed.

Never did you think this would be the outcome. Sure, you dreamed of it, but not a bit of you believed it to be possible.

You trace the outline of the binder, resisting the temptation to open it. To read the story Jisung has spun; he has such a beautiful way with words. In your opinion, though it doesn’t hold much weight, he’s the best playwright of the century. He’s only written a few shows, each more breathtaking than the last. They have this ability to touch a part of the soul that nobody knew existed, the feeling it brings indescribable.

And you get to be a part of this masterpiece. Oh fuck, you can’t stop smiling. You want to scream, to jump up and down. To revel in the sheer joy this production has already brought you.

Instead, you keep to your seat. Buzzing as you stare at the black binder before you.

Slowly, the room begins to fill. People walk the table in search for their names, chatter spinning in the echoey room. Most of them seem to know each other, greetings of hugs and congratulations exchanged. It’s a nice feeling — this is home for so many people.

Yet, it makes you feel a bit lonely. Everyone has to start somewhere; there’s no way you could have bonds like those of your co stars yet. Someday, you’ll be one of them. But today, you stay the outsider, even if it crushes you just a little.

The door opens, and a silence falls over the crowd. Every head turned in the direction of the playwright. Shorter than you would have expected, yet more striking than any picture you’ve seen of him before. His dark hair is tousled, fluffy like he hardly touched it when he rolled out of bed. Dressed in creams and tans, he gives a sophisticated, yet cozy vibe. Softening his intimidation with a lazy smile and golden, circular glasses.

“Don’t mind me.” Voice smooth like honey, he waves off the stares. “Continue on with your conversations. And congratulations to you all.”

Only when he starts walking to his seats does the chatter begin again. Quieter than before, as if they’re all still stunned by his presence. He dodges the little huddles of people until he reaches the head of the table.

Until he reaches you.

An iced coffee is placed right next to your water bottle, the playwright slowly unpacking his bag. A yellow legal pad, a copy of the script covered in scribbles and coffee stains. A black pen. Once the items are scattered across his crowded workplace, Jisung takes a seat, thumbing through the notepad for a fresh page.

“First time, right?” He speaks without looking in your direction, making you question if it’s meant for you.

“Me?”

His brows raise, yet he still doesn’t look up. “You’re the only one seated by me, aren’t you?”

“Oh.” Your face flushes, the heat of embarrassment making you shrink into yourself. “Y-yeah. It’s my first.”

“Hm. It’s a good fit for you.” Jisung takes a drink of his coffee before setting the notepad to the side.

“Thank you, sir.” You say, shaking from all the nerves squeezing you. It’s impossible to sit still — or to shut up. “I was very worried about this audition.”

This time, he looks at you, and honestly, you’d prefer it if he didn’t. It makes the anxiety all the more consuming, knowing you’re being perceived by him. Are you sweating? You think you’re sweating. God, did you put on deodorant this morning—

“Oh, is that so?” He offers you a warm smile, and it puts you at ease just a bit. “You had no reason to be, you were perfect.”

“I-I fucked up my monologue—“

“That doesn’t matter.” A hand rests on your thigh, the weight of it enough to make you stop shaking. To let your shoulders roll a bit, no longer so tense. “You are the star. I knew it from the second I saw you.”

Maybe you’re imagining it, lost in your delusion that the line of reality is muddied. But there’s something sparking where his body meets yours; a bolt of lightning coursing through your veins. His eyes hold so much warmth, like rivers of melted chocolate. Soft against your skin, leaving you with a taste that you’ll never fight a craving for.

It has to be all in your head. Careful not to lose it.

“Thank you.” Your mouth is suddenly dry, swallowing thickly to shake the heat he’s given you.

With a smile and squeeze of your knee, Jisung turns back to his notepad. Leaving you alone to melt in your seat.

///

You’re no longer rushed.

The delivery on your lines has been nothing short of flawless. It’s like a switch was flipped; the nervousness is still there, but it’s damn near impossible to detect it. All it took were a few rehearsals for you to find comfort in your lines, in the role, and then poof. Everything Jisung knew you would be, you became.

Steady on your feet when it comes to dance. Vocals perfectly in tune. Lines coming from your mouth as if they were yours, not something you merely read off a paper.

Stunning. Show stopping. The best star in the entire universe lives on this wooden stage, even the director is now convinced.

“No, no, stop.” The director’s angry voice ends the scene, sighing dramatically. “This is the sixth time we’ve ran this today alone, and you’re telling me you still can’t get it right?”

Well. Almost convinced.

Jisung hates the way the director speaks to you; immediately, you deflate. Shoulder sinking as you disappear into yourself. “I’m trying—“

“Well, try harder.” He snaps. “It’s just a kiss, I’m not asking you to fuck him.”

A round of hateful snickers come from the company, whispers followed closely behind. It’s easy to tell that all of this is getting to you, you’d have to be blind not to see it.

“Something funny?” Jisung’s sharp voice cuts through the noise, silencing the extras in the background. “Or did the company forget you’re all replaceable back there?”

Maybe it’s cruel of him to enjoy the tears in their eyes, but he truly doesn’t have time for their childish games. Even if the director shoots him a hateful look for it.

“Take fifteen.” The other man snaps, dismissing the cast. You stand frozen for a moment before turning in the direction of your dressing room. Running off to cry, if Jisung had to assume. All thanks to this asshole.

Once the room is empty, the director flares at the playwright.

“You need to be nicer to the company-“

“You need to be nice to the lead.” The director stands a few inches taller than him, but Jisung has no problem making him cower. Taking a few steps closer, he narrows his eyes at the man. “How do you expect her to be comfortable with the scene if that’s how you treat her?”

“I expect her to be an adult.” He rolls his eyes. “If she can’t even kiss a man, how does she expect to keep the role—“

“Sorry, I’m just hearing a lot of talk from another expendable person.” The flash of fear in the man’s eyes is just what he wants. Though he seems to talk down to the playwright, to question his every decision, he seems to forget something.

The director needs Jisung. Jisung doesn’t need him. One name is established, the other is not. Care to venture a guess?

The man sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Jisung, I want this show to be successful just as much as you do. With her as the lead—“

“She has a name.”

“I don’t think it will be.” There’s an exhaustion on his face that pisses the playwright off, eyes rolling so far back he can see his brain. “That kiss is crucial, and if she can’t get comfortable with it, we’re fucked.”

Though begrudgingly, Jisung had to admit that he has a point. It’s a pivotal moment in the show, and as much as he stands by his decision in casting you, there are some adjustments that have to be made. You’ve already made such big improvements, what’s a few more?

He tells himself it’s for the sake of the show. That he’s not more invested in you than the others, that his interest in you is strictly professional. There’s no other driving force behind asking you to stay later for “review”.

None at all.

You fidget with the sleeves of your sweater, sitting on the edge of the stage as you watch your castmates pout out of the theater. Each time the door opens, you get a glimpse of the setting sun. Soon it will be too late for you to walk; hopefully the review is quick.

Jisung sits on a stool by the curtain, using a music stand to hold his notepad. The only sound in the entire building is him chewing on the lid of his pen, focused in on whatever he’s scribbling.

“You’re doing good.” He says, voice muffled a bit from the pen.

Turning in his direction, you offer a soft smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ve been practicing a lot at home.”

“It shows.” Jisung caps his pen before standing up, walking towards center stage. “I knew you were capable of handling this role.”

You hate that every praise that falls from his lips gives you the tingles, a fuzzy feeling growing from your lower belly. Having this big of a crush on your superior is dangerous in so many ways, but every time you leave the plant to die, he comes in with a watering can. Filling you to the brim with feelings that shouldn’t be there.

“You know what we need to talk about,” he pauses in the center of the stage “don’t you?”

“The kiss.”

Jisung’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “I know it can be hard to kiss people we aren’t comfortable with, but this is an important moment in the show.”

You brace yourself for the scolding. At least you trust the playwright to give it to you nicely, rather than belittling you like others.

“How can we make it easier for you?”

Stunned doesn’t begin to cover it. So taken aback you almost slide off the stage, your eyes widen at him. No criticism, no telling you to suck it up and deal with it — only genuine concern for you and your emotions towards this scene.

“I’m not sure.” You answer truthfully, turning so you’re facing Jisung. “Really, I’ve tried to come up with ways to make it easier, but…nothing works.”

He nods his head, lips pressed together as he hums in thought. “Let’s run it together.”

Out of everything you expected to hear from him, this wasn’t even on the list. Brows furrowed, you tilt your head to the side. “W-what?”

“Practice makes perfect, doesn’t it?” He takes a few easy steps towards you, hand extended. There’s a choice to be made; accept the help, or navigate it yourself. Learn, or continue to be mocked by everyone but the playwright.

His hand is warmer than you expect it to be.

“Let’s start at the top of the scene.” He says, moving into position at the top of the stage left. You move to your mark, taking a few deep breaths and letting the character take over.

It’s strange, pretending to be someone else. There’s a thrill in feeling her emotions, in learning how things affect her. The pain caused by the war, the concern for her lover’s safety. The joy she is overwhelmed with when she sees he’s alright, running across the shipyard to greet him with a hug.

Your arms wrap around Jisung’s neck, a teary gasp falling from your lips as you angle yourself towards the audience. His arms coil around your waist, pressing your body firmly against his own. An embrace that was far too long coming.

She tells him how worried she was, how when he never wrote her back—

—he’s quick to reassure her, putting a finger on her lip to silence her. The letter got ruined, muddied and bloodied on the battlefield. Besides, no words could fully encapsulate what he wants to say.

And what is it, she asks, that he so badly wants to say?

Jisung’s hand comes to the nape of your neck, tilting your head back just a bit. Here. This is when she begins to fade, and your nerves take over. Your lips tremble as you attempt to stay in character, resisting the urge to break from his grasp.

“Relax.” He whispers loud enough for only you to hear. “Let me kiss you.”

Before you can blink, his lips are on yours. His lips are soft, molding to yours as if they’re a perfect fit. They move at a pace that freezes time, your body starting to soften in his hold. Hands come to his neck, gently holding either side as he deepens it slightly. Just enough to let you feel more of him. How firm, yet gentle he’s handling you. As if this is all he’s longed for since the moment he met you.

It’s over too soon, soft breaths intertwining in the space between your bodies. You can’t move away from him, hands sliding down to touch the collar of his shirt. Fingers curling around it, ready to pull him back in—

“Good.” Jisung releases his hold on you, taking a step back. “But it could be better. Again.”

Every inch of your body feels like static, mindless as you wander back to your mark. You’ve never felt this way from a simple kiss before; he left you needing more. How you remember your lines is beyond you, only one thing drawing you to stage left.

The second kiss is sweeter. This time, he smiles against your lips, tongue softly teasing the bottom one. But just as you let him in, he’s breaking it off again, playful smile still on his face.

“Again.”

His tongue finds yours the third time around. It isn’t too intense, or overbearing. Steady, making sure he gets a taste of every inch of you without rush. As if all of his day could be spent like this, all of his life. There would be no better way to spend eternity than tied up with you.

Right as you grip onto his dress shirt, Jisung pulls back. “A-“

“No.” You whimper, eyes starting to water with the idea of going back to your mark. Not caring what this risk means, you press your body back into his, chasing his lips. “P-please.”

Before Jisung can speak, you kiss him. There isn’t a second to breathe, a second to let him gain control — your tongue is dancing with his, desperate compared to the way he kissed you before. If he was patient, you’re wild. Unruly. Fearing the separation of bodies like you’ll die without his contact.

Fingers tangle in your hair, and suddenly you’re ripped away from him. You paw at his chest, something feral taking over as you fight to get back to him. To his touch.

Jisung clicks his tongue before laughing. “Greedy thing.” His voice is bone chillingly low, the static of your body freezing. “Has all the power gone to your head, my little star? Have you forgotten who was in charge?”

“P-please.” You’re panting, the tears in your eyes beginning to spill. “I need—“

“Need?” He yanks on your hair harder, tilting your head all the way back. The sting of your scalp pulls a broken cry from you, though it sounds very similar to a moan. “You don’t know what you need.”

Before you can say anything else, he uses the grip on your hair to shove you to your knees. Atop his leather loafers you’re perched, forced to look up at the playwright. The creator. The one who made you this damn desperate.

Oh, what a pretty reminder it is that you’re nothing without him.

“When you caught my eye, I didn't expect you to be so demanding.” His fingers skillfully unbuckle his belt, pulling it from the loops. “My sweet little star, did the stage already ruin you?”

Before you can answer, the belt is looped around your neck. Fit snugly, the playwright pulls, testing it. Just enough pressure to choke you but not to harm you. Exactly how it needs to be.

Your fingers wrap around the leather, tugging lightly as you shake your head. “N-no sir.”

“Then I shouldn’t hear no come from you again.” He says with a twisted smile, free hand undoing the button of his pants. The outline of his cock is heavy, a tiny wet spot near the head that makes your mouth water. In a fluid motion, it’s in his hand, slowly pumped in front of your face.

You’re not sure what is happening with you, the static starting to take over your brain. Without thinking, you blink up at Jisung and let your tongue roll out. Ready for him.

“Good girl.” He praises, bending down to spit in your open mouth before he slides his cock in. Lips parting, a breathy gasp leaves him as you wrap your lips around him. Taking every inch of him.

The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, soft gags fluttering around it. Nothing has ever tasted better on your tongue. Carefully, you begin to bob your head, making sure to keep your eyes on him.

A redness creeps up his neck as sweat lines his hairline. Fuck, he’s so beautiful. Sparkling under the stage lights, every sharp detail of his face looks godlike from this angle. A perfect being to praise so passionately.

He cups your face, softly stroking your cheek as he chokes you with the belt again. Spit is dribbling out of your mouth, rolling off your chin and hitting the hardwood floor. It’s not long before he starts to lose patience, tightening his grip on the belt and fucking your face with vigor.

“That’s it.” He groans, watching with glee as you start to twitch. Clinging to his legs for support. “That’s my good girl.”

One more sharp, deep thrust and Jisung is pulling out. The tip of his cock is angry, brought so close to the edge only to be denied. Lifting his right foot, he brings it to your shoulder, shoving you flat on your back.

His knees land on either side of you with a thud, rushed hands tugging your white sweater up. At the sight of your pink bra, a bright smile covers his face.

“Look at you.” Jisung pulls the cups down, letting your perfect tits bounce out. “I knew you were perfect for me.”

Your fingers dance across his chest, loosening every button you can find until his shirt falls open. His chest is warm compared to your hands, lingers at his nipples. With a mischievous smile, you roll one between your thumb and forefinger, delighted when his skin erupts in goosebumps.

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath before latching on to one of yours, nipping and sucking at the bud until your moans begin to echo. The entire theater getting a taste of the sweet sounds you make.

Your head rolls back, savoring the feeling of his lips all over you. The stage lights twinkle above you, each one lighting the most beautiful scene this stage will ever see. All consumed by the thrill of him, of being the soul of the stage. It all comes back to you.

Jisung’s hands reach under your skirt, tearing at your panties until they’re ripped from your body. Moving to the other nipple, his fingers dip in your folds. Softly stroking your slit, the slick sticking to him as he feels every inch of you.

Whining, you pinch his nipple harder until he begins to bite at yours. “D-don’t tease me.”

He chuckles, biting down hard enough to leave a pretty little mark on your breast. “Fine.” And then his fingers are gone, as if they were never there.

Shock makes your jaw drop, the protests rising in your throat. What a shame they’ll never be heard — Jisung’s cock quickly takes the place of his fingers, plunging into your depths with little resistance.

You moan in unison, eyes rolling back as the playwright begins to fuck you in earnest. His hands slip under your thighs, pushing your legs up until your knees are by your ears. The position allows him to fuck you in a way you’ve never felt before; like it’s setting the static on fire.

Turning his head towards the empty theater, Jisung’s lips brush your calves. “Why did you audition for my show?” He grunts out, slamming into you hard before pausing. “You had no experience, practically no chance, but you took the chance. Why?”

It’s hard to think with the head of his cock pressing against your sweet spot, hands scrambling to find his shoulders. Anchoring onto him. “I-I don’t know—“

“Yes, you do.” The next thrust is more intense, knocking the breath out of you. “What brought you to me?”

Your lips start to wobble, hiccuping softly as you cry. His dark eyes are hard on you, filled with a dark lust completely unfamiliar to you. A feral craving; you thought you needed him?

Oh, little star. But he needed you more.

“Wanted.” You take a slow breath, softly cupping Jisung’s face. “To be c-close to you.”

A silence falls over the theater, long enough to make you begin to regret ever submitting an application. It was silly of you to try out, and then to fuck your idol. God, how dumb—

When Jisung starts fucking you again, it’s intense. The floor quakes beneath you, raptors shaking with the sheer volume of your cries. A large hand cups your face, turning it in the direction of the audience.

“Here you are, my star.” He grunts through his teeth, movements beginning to grow sloppy as he nears his end. “Let me give you my all.”

The heavens are breaking, cracks sending each star down to earth. They begin to rain around you, lighting you in a beautiful white flame. Never have you been so consumed, an orgasm breaking you down into nothing but dust. Body lying limp, you happily welcome Jisung into you. The force enough to rival the sun.

Your legs fall lifelessly, his head hitting your chest in a similar fashion. Wrapping his arms around your body, Jisung lays kisses on your sweaty skin. Carefully bringing you back down to him.

“I don’t think we rehearsed enough.” You say, eyes shutting as your fingers rake through his hair. “Can we run it again?”

©: chvnnie 2023

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #han smut #jisung smut

346 notes · View notes

elvisabutler · 2 years

Text

she’d like to cuddle up to me

fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 )

rating: M, honestly y’all this is a lot of smut with a big plot. So minors, shoo shoo.

relationship: austin butler/reader, elvis/priscilla.

word count ( this part ): just shy of 6k. this is apparently war and peace. i don’t know. it’s eaten my brain.

warnings ( this part ): daddy kink, age difference ( austin is his normal age during the time frame of the fic, reader is almost a decade younger, no one is underage ), dom/sub, choking ( implied ), zipper riding ( not quite, but sort of ), oral ( f receiving ), public sex. multiple orgasms but maybe not quite overstimulation. close but not quite.

author notes: so. once again, you want a tag, message me, i’ll tag you. or leave a reply and tell me and i’ll add you. beyond that, thank you to my partner in crime with this fic @satninbeaulieu and anyone else who has put up with me talking about this. also, this will probably make it’s way to ao3 at some point, don’t know when. maybe this week. we’ll see, my schedule always looks at my plans and laughs. also i hate the ending line of this, but i removed a chunk of this to save for next chapter or something later on. this was already too long, y’all. and not betaread because i live on the wild side.

this is part of the you read your lines so cleverly and never missed a cue series. specifically it’s the second. the first part is here.

The first thing you do when you get home is stalk Austin or more accurately you looked at a few- no more than 10- gossip blogs to try and check the status of Austin's relationship to Vanessa. It should worry you that your reaction upon reading that they broke up a couple months ago is sheer relief. Yes, maybe once upon a time the idea of being with a guy in a relationship didn’t phase you but you learned your lesson like a good girl and knew that you were better than being the side chick. You also knew that most of the time when you were the side chick it was because the guy was an asshole, but truth be told that was honestly most men. Maybe including Austin, but your mind hadn’t quite decided on him beyond being mildly mortified at what happened.

You had expected to hear something from Baz sooner rather than later but it took a full week before you got the call with him telling you that you had gotten the part.You put the phone on mute before letting out a shout of victory before unmuting it again and telling him thank you as he told you he planned on the first table read being about a week from now. Thankfully you hadn’t made any plans, so it was no real problem. The call ended without too much fanfare beyond your initial excitement and within about 5 minutes your phone dinged with an email containing the script. If you happened to dance while printing it out in your apartment no one could judge you.

The week long lead up to the table read had you trying to make arrangements to stay in Australia for the foreseeable future instead of your New York apartment. In between calls to iron out all your tiny details of getting most of your life transferred clear across the world you’d read the script. Everyone knew how Elvis’ story went so it’s not like anything in it was too new to you but you still found yourself enraptured enough that you audibly gasped while on the phone with someone causing them to have to ask if you were alright. Not your proudest moment.

Soon enough though you found yourself on a plane to Australia and in a car heading to the studio. You weren’t nervous before but the closer you got to the studio the more you felt your brain buzzing and your foot becoming jittery, tapping to an unknown rhythm. You took deep breaths, trying to steady yourself as you toyed with your ring. There was no need to be nervous. You had impressed Baz, you were a phenomenal actress. So what if Austin was going to be there and he had known you were going to be there before you did. So what? It was fine, it was going to be fine.

“That’s Cilla. That’s my Priscilla.” You bit your lip remembering hearing that through the door before- you weren’t going to think about that, you were not going to think about being on your knees in front of him, being on your knees with his cock in your mouth. You most certainly were not going to think about how you might have thought about it more than once since then.

This was going to be a problem, you already knew it which is what has you groaning into your hands as your uber driver pulls up to the studio to drop you off. “You going to be okay, ma’am?”

You look at him for a second before answering, moving your hand from your mouth. “Yeah, I’m going to be fine. I’ll tip you in the app, I totally don’t have any cash on me. Sorry.”

The driver shrugs. “It’s alright, you’re not in the US, not required but thank you.”

You hum as you exit the car and grab your bag, pulling down your dress as you did. The walk into the studio felt longer than you’d have liked it to, but you figure that was just because of your outfit and nervousness all balled into one tiny bit of stress for you. You’re early to the read and you’re expecting to have no one in the room when you arrive only to hear the one voice you were mildly dreading hearing.

“Y/N.” Austin says softly and a little breathlessly when he looks up at the noise of the door opening. Your heart skips a beat when you look up to see what he looks like. It’s not a Boho Elvis look this time. No, instead he went with something more put together, a simple white shirt half unbuttoned and black jacket with black slacks. Of course, the headband on his head and the glasses made it seem a little more soft, a little warmer and more gentle than it had any right to be. Truth be told, it had the tension leaving your body the longer you looked at him.

“Austin.” You smile slightly before giving him a little wave and tilting your head. “You’re here early.”

He laughs. “Yeah, if you ever meet Denzel Washington- promise, not trying to name drop, Dove- but if you ever meet him he’ll tell you it's a thing I do because I did it during Iceman Cometh. Started when my mom would drive me to auditions and now that I can drive myself around or call an Uber, it’s just stuck. Allows me to meditate on things. Focus myself.”

For not the first time since you did the chemistry read, you’re struck by how your brain just finds Austin fascinating. You have had one view of him and here he was turning it on its head- turning you on your head. It’s strange but you feel as if you might have found a fellow actor who might understand how you are. It’s method acting, but it’s not, it’s just allowing yourself to fall into a role and allow yourself to be in the moment as this person. And while you were running late according to your own time table, Austin and you were the only people there for the read. Even if you hadn't been on your knees for him not even two weeks prior, you’d have found his dedication a little attractive.

“I get it, Austin.” You twirl your dove ring as you speak. “I do the same thing. Though I’m normally the first person in the room. Didn’t know I’d have competition. Especially since I wanted the seat you’re sitting in.”

“You could sit next to me.” He pats the seat next to him with a grin as his voice pitches down just a bit. “Gotta have my best girl by my side. My ‘Cilla.”

You don’t normally laugh very easily but the sincerity in his voice makes you chuckle as you walk to take the seat next to him. “Your ‘Cilla. Guess that makes you my Elvis.” You pause and sit down, making sure your dress doesn’t ride up as you do. “My King?”

Austin’s eyes are focused on your thighs and your ass when you sit down and you notice but you choose not to comment just yet. He might have been able to be a dom but that look- no self respecting dom looks at you like that when you can make fun of it. He bites his lip and shakes his head. “Elvis hated that name, you know. Felt there was only one king and it wasn’t him. I have to agree with hating the name but that’s mostly because that’s not what I want you calling me.”

You raise an eyebrow at Austin, as you hear the door open another person coming in whose name you feel like you need to know but you haven’t met everyone yet so you suppose it can be forgiven. Your response is softer, more murmured so that they couldn’t hear you. “What is that supposed to mean? Do you have something else in mind, Mr. Butler?”

You’re teasing and you know it. You’re being a brat and you know it. You are suddenly aware that you have no underwear because you forgot it in your rush to get out of your apartment early. You feel faintly like an idiot with this knowledge but your face does not betray any of these things, instead choosing to remain blank, looking at the door as another newcomer comes in. For his part Austin’s only reaction is a slow inhale and exhale before he speaks. “Well it’s not Mr. Butler if that’s what you think. Something that starts with a d.”

The first response that comes to you is dick followed closely by dumbass and then Daddy. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips as you decide to throw him a bone. “Dumbass? Duke? Daddy?”

At the last word, his arm migrates to the back of your chair and he pulls you in a little closer. “Third time’s the charm little dove.Though, dumbass? I’m hurt.”

Despite your better judgment you shift a little closer to Austin, scooting your chair over just a hair. “That’s the least offensive name I could call you, Butler. It’s also true if you think I’m calling you Daddy. Remember, we had this conversation the last time. Was my blowjob that good that you forgot everything before it maybe a little after it?”

There’s supposed to be an undercurrent to your words, a teasing edge that you’re hoping he picks up on and doesn’t take the wrong way. It’s fun talking to him like this, teasing him as more people are walking in the door. You’re pretty sure they’re saving you from Austin or you doing something stupid. You glance at Austin through the corner of your eye only to see his pursed lips and a deeply unimpressed look at you. Your brain is wondering how you could have misread him when you recognize that look, that look means you're in a lot of trouble. You find that it's a little exciting.

"Did you forget that you called me daddy multiple times already, little dove? For someone who keeps saying they don't want to call me that, it rolls off your tongue beautifully." He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Say it with me, 'Daddy, I'm sorry I came just from sucking you off and didn't listen when you said not to touch last time. I can be good, Daddy.':

You shiver as your shoulder moves up in an attempt to push Austin away from your ear. Your legs open up just a hair under your dress and you had hoped Austin wouldn’t notice before you heard what sounds like a slight pleased hum. This was unfair. You wanted the upper hand, you should have the upper hand because he’s still just begging you to call him Daddy and you won’t. You hear the door open again and hear Baz’s voice amongst what feels like twenty others and you realize that thank God it’s everyone else. You have an excuse to shoot down Austin. “Say it with me, Daddy. You’re not my dom and you’re not my Daddy, so if I wanted to come just from sucking you off I can. No permission needed. Besides, you weren’t about to give me what I wanted. Someone had to.”

Austin’s eyes narrow and he actually pulls away to allow himself to look at you straight on, his hand moving up like he’s going to grab your chin before stopping himself as he hears Baz say his name.

“There’s my leads! Our Elvis and Priscilla, everyone!” Austin and you tear your gazes from each other and offer almost identical shy waves to everyone.

Everyone introduces themselves around the table and you all settle in for the table read. Your foot’s started to jiggle again under the table, occasionally hitting your chair and occasionally hitting Austin’s chair. You don’t mean to, but you’re more nervous than you have been in quite a long time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the last time you were this nervous was your first big acting job. It’s embarrassing because you all haven’t even gotten to your first line and there was Austin next to you acting completely normal. Except you can see how the hand that’s closest to your leg, the one that’s on the side of the chair is shaking just a little bit. Maybe you weren’t the only one who was nervous. Hell, at least Austin had a better standing than you did, he was responsible for this movie doing well, he was going to be The Elvis Presley. Yes, you were Priscilla Presley but without him, without him nailing Elvis correctly the rest of you could be perfect and you lose the film.

The longer you stare at his shaking hand the worse your shaking foot gets to the point where you end up kicking Austin’s shin. It’s not during one of his lines but he still ends up hissing and gaining the attention of everyone else.

He waves them off with his steady hand. “It’s fine, hit my shin on the chair.” And that’s that until he looks at you again with a questioning look. His hand is still shaking and you finally give into a desire to just grab it- to hold it in your own. He doesn’t stop you, instead allowing you to squeeze his hand and you swear you can feel the tension leaving his body. Leaving his hand at the very least and he looks- well he looks relieved. You stare at your hand holding his for longer than you probably should before he takes the time to shift the position a little, interlocking your fingers and setting them down on the side of the chair. He doesn’t let go and neither do you until it’s time for Priscilla and Elvis to meet. You pull your hand, knowing fully well that you end up using your hands when you read these lines no matter what and you aren’t about to stop now to attempt to reassure and comfort Austin. He doesn’t look like he minds, though, partially because he’s not supposed to as he reads the lines, but you can see that his reaction isn’t entirely just Elvis talking to Priscilla, it’s him watching you perform the same you had for the chemistry read.

Baz starts to explain about this montage he has planned right after this scene in the script and while it’s important for Tom to pay attention, it’s not explicitly important for the two of you right in the moment. It’s for that reason, you figure that Austin’s arm snakes around you once again, pulling your chair closer and making it so your legs are touching. You curl a little into him as much as you can while still remaining in your own chair. You should be prepared to hear him speak but it still startles you hearing his voice murmuring in your ear once again.

“You didn’t ask me, Y/N. I don’t just take from people. I give back as much as they deserve. And I think you deserve a lot more than you let people give.” His hand moves to hold your knee. For the first time since you sat down and started this table read, your foot stops moving, stops shaking and you feel grounded. Oh no. This is a problem. This is a good thing but it is a problem you cannot entertain.

“What I deserve does not concern you, Austin. That was a one time thing. Consider it a sub helping a fellow sub. Switch. Whatever you are for whoever.” You pause, making sure to listen in on what Baz is saying. “Seriously, though, what are you? Because I've been reading you as a maybe a sub since you were-"

"Staring at you but not touching? Didn't realize appreciating the prettiest little dove I had seen that day made me a sub. What would have made me a dom? Flipping that short skirt you had up?" Austin asks, his hand still resting on your knee. "You've never had any of them pant after you, have you?"

You clench your thighs together, waiting to see what he's going to do with his hand. "Considering I like fucking men and not hound dogs, no, I can't say I have. Are you going to tell me you panted after Vanessa? Acted like her good little boy, pleasing Mami when she snapped her fingers?"

"Mmhmm. Open those legs for Daddy, Little Dove. Don't be this mouthy and that shy." He murmurs with a smirk as several people slowly come into the room. They’re not late, they just didn’t need to be here at the time. "Papi gave his little Nessa whatever she wanted. Even when she was mouthy just like you're being because at the end of the day she was a good girl." Your legs fall open just enough for him to sneak his hand up them. He pauses, his jaw tensing and eyes going just a bit wider as he moves his thumb in just a way that it brushes your clit and getting just enough of your juices on it to allow it to glisten when he pulls it out from under your skirt. He puts it up to his lip and licks. "You don't even realize what you do to Daddy, do you?"

You are aware of two things at this exact moment, one, you were wet which you hadn't quite realized before and two, you wanted Austin's hand between your legs right now. A fact that you swear you have just telepathically sent to him from how his hand just slinks back down to your thighs and then up to your core. He sticks just a single finger before you manage to speak.

"I don't. I'm thinking I make him so horny he can barely see straight but-" You take a deep breath and look down at his lap. "I may be wrong. I can’t really see anything in your pants. And you actually have a bit of a poker face right now.”

There is the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips before he curls his finger, looking over at everyone else. “All good doms should, Little Dove. But do you want to know? Does my good girl want to know what she’s doing to me?”

Your eyes flutter a little at the mention of being a good girl and at his curled finger, you hadn’t done anything to deserve that, you were being a brat and yet he was telling you that you were a good girl. Oh, you could get used to that. You manage a short breath. “Was I right, Austin? Was my guess right?”

"I mean, I can see straight but- I am turned on. I could still get up without too much of a problem. But yes, Little Dove, you guessed right. You did good on your guess." He has his thumb just rub circles around your clit, watching your face to see your reaction trying to see exactly what gets you going, adjusting his motions as he saw what did and didn't work. “Soaked and I’ve barely touched you, such a sensitive and needy Dove falling into my lap. It’s not even my birthdays.”

He doesn't move his hand or stop what he's doing when it comes time for him to continue reading the lines. You’re focusing on his voice and saying your lines when they pop up but you can feel your head getting fuzzy. It’s almost as if you’re floating and you intellectually know what that means, you know you’re sliding way too dangerously to your subspace but you’re not a hundred percent sure you can pull yourself back. Austin’s voice just keeps murmuring what you think are praises and you can feel his hand moving from under your dress and you almost make a noise before you feel his hand move to your back in an attempt to steady you. The feel of his hand pulls you back down a little, allowing you to blink slowly before looking at him. Baz is reading the description of the scene, you think it’s the beginning of the 68 special but you don’t know for sure. You can see Austin’s mouth moving, mouthing words and you open your mouth to say something before he shakes his head slightly.

“Little Dove, come back to Daddy. I know you want to come apart for me, I know and I want to see how gorgeous you look when you do, but Little Dove, we’re at the table read. We’re in public, you’re a professional, you don’t want to show them this. It’s not for them to see. It’s just for us. Be a good girl, be the good girl I know you are and wait, okay?” Austin whispers in your ear, the rings on his fingers pressing into your back, grounding you even further. You’re coming back down, you can focus on everyone else, you can focus on his voice. You’re a good girl, not a brat, Daddy is calling you a good girl. “Y/N?”

Austin is saying your name. You swallow, turning to focus on his eyes. “I can be a good girl, I can be your good Little Dove. Promise me we can later, Dad-” You stop suddenly, your mind crashing back to Earth in a heartbeat. Austin is not Daddy, you were about to call him Daddy. “Austin.” His name comes out in a puff of air as you freeze and just look around at everyone trying to make sure no one saw the two of you or at the very least saw how you were reacting.

“There you are, Y/N.” Austin smiles softly before he pulls his hand off of your back and grabs your hand with your dove ring, allowing himself to play with it a little. “You alright?”

You shake your head no, not trusting the word coming out of your mouth before you take a few shaky breaths. “Don’t do that again.”

His eyes narrow for a moment as he reads his lines, unable to respond beyond a quick squeeze of your hand. In fact it goes like that for a while until they reach where Austin is supposed to be singing Suspicious Minds while the Colonel essentially signs his life away. This isn’t rehearsal so it doesn’t matter if he sings or not which allows him to actually be able to squeeze your hand again, trying to get your attention.

“Your hands are huge, you know that?” You say offhandedly having a brief flash of an image of them against your throat before you hum. “What?”

“Did you mean to never do that again or just don’t do it right now?” He asks with a slight smile on his face at the comment about his hands. “I don’t want to- I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you don’t like that. Or if you can't stand being in the space-"

You stop him with a very deliberate tap to the palm of his hand. Just one, but you know he knows what it means. You wait to see his shoulders relax before you answer fully with actual words. "Right now. I'm a professional. We are professionals."

It's definitely a bad idea to be entertaining this and you should tell him never again but honestly your curiosity had been piqued enough that you actually want to see where this is going to go to a point, it wouldn't be the first or the last time you've made an interesting decision that wasn't perhaps the wisest.

Austin looks pensive for a moment, as if he's having to repeat those words to himself or just remind himself like he hadn’t told you that exact line not even an hour ago. He opens his mouth to speak and stops, choosing to worry at his lower lip until he manages to, you suppose, collect his thoughts. “Professionals. About to embark on potentially career defining roles.”

You nod. “Yeah. So, not right now. This exact moment when I’ve got an actor and director we’ve grown up knowing and being deeply impressed with across the room from me. Well, maybe you weren’t impressed by Baz, but Moulin Rouge and Romeo + Juliet were my comfort movies as a teenager.”

“Not anymore?” He questions, allowing his shoulders to relax and allowing himself to lean back in the chair. He lets go of your hand and allows his arm to just drape itself across the back of your chair.

“Not anymore.” You lean back in your own chair, almost seeking out the warmth of his hand and arm as if you could feel it through the chair. “I grew up. I think the last time I watched it I was 17, 18, maybe?”

Austin just hums at your answer before focusing on the table read again, after all you are professionals. You choose that moment to grab his hand and pull it forward enough that his arm isn’t just around your chair and is instead is around your shoulders. You shiver slightly despite how warm you feel.

The rest of the read goes fine, you think, though you can’t help the way you actually sob reading Priscilla leaving Elvis and when she asks him to go to rehab for Lisa. You think she wanted him to go for her too, despite the fact that she had moved on from him as far as a relationship went. You don’t stop caring for someone you love like that and from what you’ve seen despite their relationship being what it was- she still loves him. Austin grabs you a tissue or two and you see him make an aborted move to tell you to blow your nose before he pulls back and hands you the tissues. Overall, you feel good, you feel like this is going to be the thing that catapults everyone who isn’t already a name into some form of stardom and it makes you grin as you clap with everyone around the table. You’re so enraptured with looking at everyone else that you nearly miss Austin tapping your shoulder as he stands up.

"You vape?" He asks, looking down at you in the chair with his hand firmly on your shoulder.

You don’t, but that’s not the point because when you look up and see Austin’s eyes, you note that the pupils look a little blown and– well you had said, not right now. Apparently he wasted no time in thinking not right now meant wait until the table read. There’s a thought to say no, to tell him that you’re going to go talk to Darce or Luke or Kelvin but your body decides to answer for you, shivering not because of the cold but because of his grip on your shoulder. “Sure.”

Austin doesn’t waste a single second before he’s reaching out for your hand and pulling you up out of the chair and tucking you under his arm as he leads you out of the room. You faintly hear what you’re pretty sure is a collection of every person in the room with maybe Luke or Kelvin being the loudest saying something about ‘there goes Elvis and Priscilla’ as you leave the room. You feel embarrassed for a brief moment before Austin kisses the top of your head almost in reassurance. You’re shorter than Austin and he is walking so fast to get out of the building that you’re not a hundred percent sure how you keep up with him but in what feels like a flash you’re outside by what you’re assuming is his car.

You’re about to say something about how the car is a little dusty when Austin just practically pushes you against the car, his mouth against yours as if he’s going to devour you and like he’ll die if he doesn’t feel your lips against his. It startles you for a moment with its intensity but after that moment you respond in kind, your tongue meeting his and your arms wrapping around his neck to try and force him to give you some leverage. He catches the hint pretty quick and you make a noise as you feel his hands on your thighs, lifting you up and allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You don’t break the kiss, choosing to nip at his lips that you kept seeing him bite as he took a moment to suck at your tongue. It shouldn’t be hot, it’s messy and you can feel spit getting everywhere but you feel as if he’s setting you on fire with his lips. Soon you both need air though and you pull away first, whimpering a little as you do before resting your forehead against his, your chest heaving trying to catch your breath that you swear he’s stealing as he tries to catch his own. You hear a beep and somehow Austin is managing to open up the door to his car without dropping you.

“I gotta put you down Little Dove. I can’t get in the car holding you like this- just- Let me get in and-” He pauses, making sure you’re looking at him before he continues. “Sit on my face.”

Your brain almost immediately whites out at the idea before you drag yourself back to reality and nod. “Get in the car then, Austin.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, his lanky frame easily sliding into the car and moving his seat back before you’re on him in a flash, lifting up your dress just enough that he can just see your cunt glistening in the daylight before he’s hidden by the fabric. His tongue licks a stripe up your slit before you feel his fingers opening you up just enough that his tongue can gain access to your cunt. You want to feel his lips around your clit but you’re finding the sensation of his tongue flicking in and out of your cunt enough that you find your hands reaching for the upholstery in his car, grasping it and trying not to scratch it. You still do the second you feel the electric shock of his teeth grazing your clit and- it’s then that you start to find yourself floating again. You should trust Austin to let you fall, you’re in public and you can see Baz Luhrmann’s goddamn car next to you, but your body won’t listen. Your brain is literally just shutting off at the feel of Austin’s fingers and of his tongue against your folds. You try and warn him that you’re coming embarrassingly quickly but all that comes out is a low moan of his name and daddy one right after the other.

He taps your thigh three times before you find that you have enough energy to move, your boots getting stuck on the center console before you settle into his lap, slowly moving just a little not quite grinding but still wanting a little bit of friction. Austin manages to pull his seat back up and stares at your lips before starting to kiss you again. It’s not nearly as rushed as it was outside the car but it’s still making that feeling of floating get worse and worse. You taste yourself on him and you realize this is the first time someone has eaten you out and then made out with you. It sends a thrill through your body and you find that you like it. You find that you like it enough that you start to grind on Austin’s lap and there’s a part of you that feels a weird bit of cold against your clit that you think is his zipper, but you don’t stop, instead choosing to just go with how it feels. A fact that you’re gonna ruminate on later, probably.

You hear Austin groaning lowly and what you swear is a growl before you feel his hands- his stupidly large hands- lifting you up off his lap and you whine. You’re out of it, fully spaced out and you can’t register anything beyond Daddy- Austin- this stupid dom who doesn’t look like one and doesn’t act like one and just slid under your radar, taking you off his lap. You try and squirm enough that you can go back to grinding but Austin’s hand slides up to the back of your neck and you hiss not unlike a kitten. “Baby. That’s enough. Come back here.” You blink, eyes unfocused and your mouth open as you try and take deep breaths. His hand moves from the back of your neck to your cheek and strokes it. “Hey, come on. Focus baby.”

It’s hard but your brain forces you to zone in on his face. “Daddy.”

He ends up smirking before shaking his head. “What’s my name, Little Dove. You’re gonna hate that you called me that.”

“Austin.” Your answer comes in a whisper as the shame overwhelms you for a moment, you’re in public, you’re spaced out on Austin’s lap. You had known you were a little desperate for touch like this but not- you didn’t realize you had gotten so bad. He smiles and your heart skips a beat. You don’t know if he smiled because you used his name or because you had done what you were supposed to. You’re not sure you care either way.

“Good girl. Listen, you’ve got to stop that. We’ve only got an hour for lunch, maybe an hour and ten since I vape. I can’t fuck you right now. Just calm down and let Daddy, let me kiss on you for a bit. We don’t want you rubbing yourself raw on my zipper.” He murmurs, moving to kiss at your neck.

Your head lulls a little to the side and your eyes are still a little glassy before you find the words to speak as you push his mouth away. He needs to hear what you want to say. Your eyes settle on his clothed cock as you nod before you notice that you’re pretty sure his pants have a wet spot that’s your own juices. “What if I want to? What if I want to rub-” You pause, you don’t, or at least you’re not sure if you want to rub yourself raw on his zipper. “You’ve already kissed on me, Austin. Probably too much. I should get out of the car.”

You have yet to see Austin be offended by anything, but that sentence, you saying probably too much has him looking so offended that your first instinct is to both apologize and ask what the hell was so wrong with what you said. He bites his lip once, twice, before saying anything. “Oh, Y/N, Little Dove, your daddy’s barely been kissing you. Who’s been taking such bad care of you that you don’t even see that? That you’re this needy. Let daddy make a deal with you?”

Your brain is processing more of the words he says faster and you find yourself pursing your lips as you nuzzle at his neck. “Depends.”

He chuckles and you can feel the vibrations against your lips. “There’s my Dove coming back down. Let Daddy kiss on you a bit more and you can ride his hand?”

“I- I don’t know if I can handle an hour of just your hand, but- sure- yeah.” You pause and focus on saying Austin’s name. “Austin.”

He smirks before he moves his hand down between your legs, his fingers curling earning a groan from you as your forehead hits the headrest behind him. “You can.”

As it turns out, you could, just barely.

Taglist: @satninbeaulieu @she-is-juniper @floralcyanide @butlerstyles i am probably missing someone but i don’t know. it’s late.

#austin butler x priscilla actress reader #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fanfic #ally writes #elvis 2022

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greyeyedmonster-18 · 9 months

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Do you have any fic recs for maybe the best Sirius portrayals you've come across? Thanks!

ahhhhhhh

okay well, im obviously biased, and i love my own fics, the end.

but, if you don't want to read my nonsense, here are some of my favs:

-the son and heir of nothing in particular by @steelycunt (aeridi0nis on AO3) as well as on the issue of fever and delight and in lieu of beaujolais.

as you can see, i'm particularly fond of their writing and despite loving to be mean to Sirius (in the best sort of way, he is our barbie doll that gets chewed on sometimes, shaken like a rag doll), always do a phenomenal job of capturing his demons and the vibe. there's a particular line in OTIOFAD where sirius is there trying to apologize, and he, like, can't figure out how to slouch enough to do so, and it just hits right where it should. yes.

-the shape and sound of god by @dykefever (dykesiriusblack on AO3).

this is a fleabag AU, and Sirius is the star of the show. I am in love with this sad, sad, depiction of him. What I love a lot about sirius is how raw he is, like literally an open wound walking around and he pulls people into it, but he's always honest about that too. and is just like trying trying trying to be better, but the wound is just festering and. this. also, if you're in the mood for more dykefever, i highly recommend (in my room) i want you here

sweater weather by lumosinlove; look, i am a cult member too. i am nothing but a cult member. (i'm not tagging because I'm sure they get tagged 80x every day, yall know where to go)

Beneath a Big Blue Sky by @eyra; also a cult member for this one, i can't help it. There's something so delightful about sirius in this. and understanding. our sweet silly boy. everyone's comfort fic is also my comfort fic.

Boys Don't Cry by @blitheringmcgonagall (YouBlitheringIdiot on AO3);

i don't tend to read about the Prank because it makes me feel too much and drives me insane but THIS ONE. THIS ONE. yes. will read. and Sirius's characterization in this is top tier.

Drifters by twentysevensummers; the insane times i have read this single chapter.

At the Healing Edge of Broken by @heartofspells

OKAY LOOK I HAD TO COME BACK AND EDIT THIS POST. so fair warning (and i told tumblr user heartofspells this when i was reading as well), i had to do some skimming with some of the subject matter in this fic. BUT that does not erase the fact i LOVED this sirius. i loved how sweet he was with harry. i loved his humor. i loved his arrogance and forced vulnerability. I binged this and then went straight to the authors DM's to scream so. yeah. whoops.

(please let the record show i dont generally make rec lists because I'm always afraid someones going to be sad they weren't on it. but here are some of my favs that i find myself returning to.)

#asks #grey answers #grey recs fics sometimes #also apologies to ridi and laura for getting tagged again #i will never stop shouting about your writing #i am a fan girl front row with a sign

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thecoffeelovingfreak · 1 year

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flash that angle, grind a smile

Pairing: Vil Schoenheit x gn!Actor!Reader

Writing Genre: story

Genres: fluff, pining, co-workers to friends to lovers

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: very brief discussion of poisoning & blood, it's my first time writing for Vil so hopefully he's not too out of character

Notes: I was listening to 'Sculptures of Anything Goes' by Arctic Monkeys and my mind started drifting to creating this fic -- so here it is! <3

Read it on ao3!

~~~

Silently sipping on your delightfully warm latte, you observed the scene being produced in front of you.

“And if the Grand Duke hears about this? What do you expect your fate to be then?” one of your co-stars voiced worriedly, trying to reason with the antagonist.

“My fate is of no concern to anyone but me.” Vil’s character Antoine glared at the man before continuing, “I’m sure there are plenty of cases for you to investigate in the city. Entertain yourself with one of them and move along now, Dorian… lest you find your destiny lying with His Highness.”

You fought back a chuckle, being mindful of the cameras still rolling.

Dorian seemed slightly dejected as he quietly left the Prince’s office – a physical foreshadowing of the character’s motives that were to be revealed later on in the series.

As the scene came to a close the floor manager called out, “And cut! Great work today everyone! Get a nice meal and a good rest – I look forward to seeing you all tomorrow!”

The formerly quiet set began bustling with various audio engineers, camera operators, runners, and assistants. Rising from your chair, you stretched before deciding to strike up a conversation with Dorian’s actor, Killian.

“Hi, Kil! Your performance was fabulous today!”

“Mine? We should be talking about yours! The dinner scene was phenomenal! The way you portray such a deceiving Marchioness is almost frightful.” he finished with a wink. Your bubbly conversation with your co-star continued for approximately fifteen minutes until you decided to bid him farewell.

—

After changing back into your everyday clothes and having your hair and makeup undone, you felt content to return to the trailer you would continue to call home for the weekend. As you finished gathering your things, you heard your favorite voice speak from behind you.

“Good evening, Y/n. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I would like to discuss our scenes for tomorrow’s filming.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Vil. Why don’t we talk in my trailer over salad?”

He looked contemplative for a moment before agreeing.

—

You had always held respect for Vil’s love of his craft, and seeing how dedicated he was to ensuring both his and your prime performances began turning that respect into admiration. Working on the newest season of Twisted Wonderland’s most popular historical drama for the last few months had brought you closer, and you felt yourself drifting nearer and nearer to the sea of love. It was always hard to decipher the blond’s feelings due to his consistent air of professionalism, and although sometimes it was irksome, at the end of the day it was yet another aspect of him to appreciate.

“Y/n? What’s got you so distracted?”

Your body jolted to attention as you focused back on your conversation, quickly sipping on a glass of lemonade you had gotten after dinner.

“Nothing, I apologize.” you laughed off lightly, “Please, continue.”

He eyed you with suspicion and knowing before clearing his throat.

“Anyways, as you know Antoine’s plan will be accelerating to prepare for the next season after the finale tomorrow, and the masquerade scene we will be filming will run the longest. Since our characters are slowly blossoming into each other’s love interests, I think the scenes of them dancing together will be the most important to master, especially since they represent the turning point in their relationship."

You nodded along to his words before asking, “Should we go over the dance one more time?”

“I would say that we could do it now, but unfortunately there is not enough space in here. We can arrive at the set earlier to rehearse, however.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Vil checked his watch before sighing, “As much as I wish to continue our meeting, I must prioritize my schedule. Tomorrow will be important, and I want to feel and look my best. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have to be off now. Have a great night, Y/n.”

You wished him a good night as well, before starting your own routine.

–

A huff exited the actor’s lips as he braided his hair – a pointless action as hair and makeup would style it accordingly – but alas his frazzled thoughts needed a calming activity. His brain continued pestering him by replaying your conversation last night. He knew why you were distracted, and the feelings behind it are what made him hesitate to take your offer. But upon further reflection both last night and this morning, he found that he was not entirely averse to the idea. You had become casual friends during the long period of filming, and he had to admit to himself that there were many things about you he found appealing.

A knock on his door broke him out of his thoughts.

He tied off the braid and adjusted his hair before rising from his vanity to answer it. Who else stood there but the single person who occupied his mind as of late.

“I figured now would be the perfect time to practice since it’s still early enough for the set to be empty. I also brought this for you,” you spoke, handing him a simple hot lidded cup. “It’s just green tea, as I thought that would be more your preference in comparison to coffee.”

“You would be correct.” he replied.

“Great! Now let’s go master these waltzes.” you smiled brightly, turning to the large building that was home to your ballroom.

—

The Grand Duke fell to his knees in his chambers. His muscles shook heavily and his heart tightened. Blood seeped from the corners of his lips.

A cut back to the masquerade.

When a passerby couple made eye contact with Antoine and nodded, you knew the plan was fulfilled.

The Prince chuckled as he leaned down to your ear and whispered, “Just what have you done, Marchioness?”

Your character smirked before replying, “I believe I should be asking you that question. After all, you have a reputation for being a prodigy in poisons.”

He coyly retorted, “Hm. Is that so?”

You made knowing eye contact while you continued your dance. Around and around the ballroom you spun, circling the Prince’s figure and weaving through his arms. When word of the ruler’s death made it to the grand party, the guests entered a frenzy.

The Prince and the Marchioness however, continued spinning about the floor.

“And cut!” the floor manager yelled.

You finished off your spin before steadying yourself.

Soon claps and cheers echoed across the extras, cast, and crew in celebration of the last day of filming. It was a bittersweet feeling, but knowing that you would be coming back next year helped lift the weight off of your heart.

The director made an announcement about a special event being hosted for every member of the cast, along with the stars of a new sci-fi series and an up-and-coming adaptation of a popular fantasy novel. It was to be hosted at one of Pyroxene’s most famous museums – L’histoire de la création.

Excitement bubbled around the room and as it fizzled out it was replaced by a contentedness over the crowd. After bidding your co-stars farewell, you went to your assigned room to change out of costume and put on a knitted sweater and trousers. You cleaned your face and applied simple skin care products before choosing to sit on your sofa and bask in your remaining time on the set with a book about the show’s time period.

About twenty minutes later a knock rapped on your door and you perked up upon hearing it.

Marking your place in the book, you approached and answered the door.

“Oh, hello, Vil.”

“Hello, Y/n.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, thank you.”

You opened the door wider and stepped to the side, allowing him to enter.

For being so notoriously put together, the actor carried traces of nervousness in his gaze.

"What did you need?" you queried.

"Not much, I simply had a parting gift for you."

Surprise blossomed on your face before you spoke, “It doesn’t seem like you to give out gifts to just anyone.”

He let out a sound somewhere between a huff and a laugh, “You’re not just anyone.”

Your heart jumped – what exactly did he mean by that?

Taking the gift with a slightly awkward thank you and opening the lavender-colored box, you were greeted by a shimmering gold bracelet. A heart embedded between daggers sat in the center, with two rows of amethyst vines leading to a clasp. It was dazzling, and seemed to carry the very essence of Vil.

“I… it’s beautiful, thank you, Vil.”

“You’re welcome, Y/n. I look forward to seeing you wear it.”

—

Completing the finishing touches on his outfit, Vil stepped gracefully into the night and to his awaiting chauffeur.

“Good evening, Francis.” he spoke, watching as the man opened his door.

“A lovely eve to you too, Mr. Schoenheit.” he replied, allowing the blond to step into the vehicle.

After Francis closed the door, the actor felt a peculiar mixture of nervousness and excitement begin bubbling inside of him. He never felt such a way at the prospect of attending events – they were simply another aspect of his work and another way for him to flaunt his efforts and attributes.

“To L’histoire de la création, correct?” his chauffeur questioned.

“Yes.” was his only reply.

When his eyes drifted from the rear view mirror and arrived at his reflection in the window, he observed his amethyst and gold earrings and came to a somewhat shocking conclusion.

He was looking forward to seeing you again – his heart was racing in fact.

It had been a month since you had last seen each other and he was ready to dismiss his feelings and get back to his former routine. But now, as old emotions dredged up, he had no choice but to reflect before coming face to face with you once more.

—

“We have arrived, sir.” the chauffeur spoke.

“Thank you, Francis.” Vil said, waiting for his door to be opened.

Reporters and the paparazzi stood along the carpet leading to the museum, and as soon as the model stepped out of the car, all of the flashing lights turned to him.

His fashion for the night consisted of his signature purple in the form of a button down, layered underneath a maroon vest with gold details. His black trousers matched with the onyx blazer he wore which ended after his torso in the front, and continued to lightly trail on the floor behind him. The coat held golden embroidery, matching with the gold jewelry he wore and the details on his sleek black heeled boots. To top it all off, his hair was tied into a braided bun with two curled stands left to frame his face.

Needless to say that he was sure to be going viral by the end of the night.

After traversing the media show with class, he finally entered the venue. Witnessing the lovely stone architecture embellished in gold after so many years made him feel a sense of nostalgia. Fellow actors and actresses cavorted across the space, looking at paintings, statues, and antiques from throughout Pyroxene’s history. A waiter came by carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres, but the model waited patiently for one to bring drinks.

“Pleasure seeing you here.” you voiced from behind him.

Vil turned and gazed upon you for the first time in thirty days. Your outfit unknowingly complimented his, and he immediately felt that rumors would be circling. A raven and violet ensemble highlighted with gold – most notably the bracelet he gifted you on the last day of filming.

“I see you’re wearing my gift tonight.” he spoke mellowly, trying to keep a somewhat low-profile among the crowd.

“I’ve worn it everyday since you gave it to me.” you whispered.

For once, Vil Schoenheit was left speechless.

Trying to recover quickly he responded and lightly teased, “It must be timeworn by now. Would you like a new one?”

You chuckled before replying, “No. What I would really like is you.”

Did… you mean what he suspected you to?

“I’ve had a lot of time to look at what exactly I feel towards you. How exactly to handle it. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I should not repress these feelings just because of my public image. While you may not feel the same way, I at least wanted you to be aware.”

You most certainly did, it seems.

He took a few moments to ponder what to say. You waited patiently, visibly anxious to hear his thoughts.

“I must admit, Y/n, that what I feel for you is the same.”

You started beaming at his admission.

“I do wish however, that we keep this relationship private for the time being. Our images require great care and I would like for this to be something that is ours – not the world’s.”

“I accept your terms, Schoenheit.” you voiced playfully.

Throughout the rest of the eventide you would sneakily link your pinky in his, cast loving and frisky glances at each other from across the room, and meet to whisper in front of the renowned art.

It seemed that Vil was incorrect in his assumption, however, as the next day only photos and articles documenting his attendance to the event circled. He laughed lightly – it seemed that at the end of the day, you truly were some of the best actors.

#coff writes for twst🍸#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst x y/n #twst x yuu #twst vil #twst vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland vil

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sitp-recs · 1 year

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Dronarry Fest - 5 fics I loved

Finally done with my @dronarryfest marathon and oh boy, what a ride it was! Lots of brilliant characterization, excellent UST, top gardening aesthetics, possessive sharing galore, mouth watering smut - 20 tasty gems across different tropes and genres! I’m beyond impressed with the fest’s quality, found some instant favorites that will certainly feature in my end of the year wrap up list, and am very excited to share them below with you. I can’t wait for reveals so I can properly shower these authors with love. We still have a couple days before it so go feast and make sure to leave kudos + comments at your heart’s content. You can (and should!) read the full catalogue here. Enjoy!

🤐 All the good things and the bad things that may be by @maesterchill (M, 5.7k) - hilarious and sweet, truth serum confessions, hung!Ron cause that’s the gospel truth, pre Dronarry and a phenomenal Draco making an appearance at the end. This is your obligatory no-angst pit stop to make your Monday better!

The one where Harry and Ron are forced to talk to each other loudly and honestly about their sex lives for The Greater Good. Or at least for the thwarting of evil.

🧪 Let Be, Let Be by @tackytigerfic (M, 10k) - VEELA Ron!!!!! That’s all, that’s why you should go read this right away. And also for this delicious established Drarry, protective/possessive Ron, competent Healer Draco, hurt Harry being loved and cared for as he deserves, and a sexy get together so full of tenderness and understanding👌🏼

Ron's never had a place to really call his own, so when the deeds to an ancient magical house in Bulgaria appear in his Gringotts vault, he ropes in his Curse-Breaker best friend (and his Curse-Breaker best friend's Field Healer boyfriend) to come and check the place out with him. What he doesn't expect is wanton destruction, a Veela transformation, and the need for some serious conversations between friends. And whoever said Draco Malfoy was bad at sharing?!

🌸 Trillium by @wolfpants (E, 13k) - gardener Harry owns my heart! I immediately fell in love with this sweet pining Ron lusting after sneaky boyfriends Drarry; lots of ogling and dancing around each other with tender brOTP moments and the softest cottagecore vibes you’ll see today

Harry and Draco are shagging. Ron’s got a hunch, and the only way to find out is to volunteer his services alongside Harry’s in the Big Malfoy Manor Cleanup of 2010. What could possibly go wrong? The one where Harry owns a gardening business, Draco is an aspiring National Trust property owner, and Ron is far too invested in the fit of Draco’s lovely clothes and the smell of Harry’s hair. But he doesn’t fancy them or anything like that.

🐉 The Sun, Shining Above You by @oknowkiss (E, 14.5k) - poly established Drarry ftw and a brilliant flashback that will def make you ship Dron like there’s no tomorrow, my heart was in my mouth waiting for their reunion. I’m very much here for dragontamers orgy shenanigans and sneaky sex at the Burrow, and if you’re a hoe for soft pining Draco and past Drarry + Charlie then run don’t walk towards this one!

Since joining up with the dragontamers, Draco counts his days in nights. Nights spent drinking in the commune mess, making poor choices he doesn't regret, for once. Nights he doesn't remember, and nights he wishes he could stop remembering. Then there's that night in Spain, caught in the circle of Ron's arms. A year of nights in Norway, caught in the heat of Harry's gaze. His first night at the Burrow, caught in between them both.

🪴 Silhouettes by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 16.7k) - one of my favourite fics of the year with heartbreaking sentient Burrow, established Rarry, exquisite POV multiple narrative, more gardening aesthetics and hands down the hottest UST and threesome sex you’ll see today. This grieving and perceptive Ron is a triumph, everyone else can go home

Draco's trying to fix the Burrow, Ron's trying to grieve, and Harry... well, just what is Harry actually doing, anyway? A tale of grief, gardening, and ghouls, bad memories, bad puns, and bad flirting, and nudity both accidental and very, very deliberate. Cw: minor character death.

#dronarry fest 2023 #Sitp recs

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ithappensoffstage · 2 months

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r&g report

I had the privilege of seeing rosencrantz & guildenstern are dead with billy boyd and dominic monaghan on march 5! a few people asked for my thoughts after, so here's a sort of stream of consciousness report that may or may not be comprehensive depending on what you're looking for out of said theatre report

anyway I do genuinely believe boydmonaghan are literally the only people who can and should ever play r&g

to start off I will say that this was my first time seeing r&g staged -- I've previously just read it A LOT -- so I can't make comparisons to other productions. I am also a lifetime fan of theatre and have been somewhat involved, but do lack some technical knowledge, so apologies if I can't cover some aspects accurately!

most important of course, boydmonaghan were stellar. their comfort and familiarity with one another is amazing to witness. of course it's staged, but none of their movements come across as anything other than two old friends. they move together like dance partners; there's really no other way to put it. when you put on a show with someone you're so intimate with, it just comes through in the physicality in ways that aren't replicable with people meeting just for one production. watching them as r&g just feels like you're watching them hanging out. they anticipate each other's movements beautifully, lean into each other naturally, play off each other with such comfortable rapport that you feel like you're watching childhood friends goofing off from your corner of the party.

and the RAPPORT I mean wow. damn. if you're familiar with r&g -- the question game scene? holy shit. breathtaking quickness. they are rapid-fire, on each other's heels in the vein of the best comedies. for everyone who knows my tastes of course, they have * the * hawkbeej dynamic. (I almost cried watching because I kept thinking of my beloved url namesake fic.)

great pacing, great chemistry. even when they're sitting still you can still feel the intimacy between them in just how they arrange themselves. lots of staging to reflect mirroring, lots of staging to reflect the thematic element of identity (sorry, I'm rosencrantz; he's guildenstern), etc. great costuming choice -- billy wears green except his blue waistcoat; dom wear blue but for his green waistcoat.

their deliveries were nothing short of spectacular. that of course wraps into pacing and chemistry as mentioned above. but I do feel it's worth mentioning again that they're both so good at speaking their lines. they have such rhythm with each other. and of course that's going to happen--they have a podcast, theyre incredibly close friends, but it's so great to see in a setting with predetermined script, predetermined runtime. again, youre watching two friends who are off their minds at a party really Go Through It.

boydmonaghan aside, I had some general issues with the production. they had quite regular sound errors, and made some sound design choices with music and vocal warping/autotune that were not to my taste. there was a cool echo element utilized that I liked a lot. as I mentioned I don't know other productions so I don't know if this is standard practice, but for this one it was quite fun. coin echoing, echoing around the stage when they shouted into the wings to give you that sense of being trapped. when they spoke to the audience space, it felt enormous, and as if they were speaking to you specifically. I just got so distracted by the mic problems and weird autotune.

the autotune moments were exclusive to the hamlet scenes. that brings me to the other actors. the player himself was magnetic. phenomenal. so much presence. emcee cabaret presence. great stuff. hamlet? so lacking imo. he played hamlet very angry and masculine, which is a choice I guess, but not how I like to see hamlet done. it did make some of the intersectional scenes a little jarring; which, I know is not entirely without reason, but it just wasn't my ideal way to play it.

other than the question scene, one of my favorite scenes in the original text of r&g is when they're talking about leaving the stage, and they continue to make excuses not to. "i think he went this way / maybe that way / why don't you come with me it'll be safer / we should try this direction / oh we should actually wait in case he comes back here." the director did skip this dialogue, which I think gives the indication of less agency for r&g. a little less participation, a little more of things happening to them. which is fine. I have no feelings either way of a better way to do it, but that is just the sense I got of it.

the stage is very small, the set is very cramped. lots of overt use of trapped imagery. theyre often crowded into specific space, sitting very close. when they make space, they make SPACE, indicating periods of disagreement. pretty basic staging for this, I'd assume.

outside staging, very cool lighting, although I am generally against scenes with "party lighting." again, not sure what typical lighting is the scenes with the players that got that, but I could have left it out. similarly, we got a scene with "rock" lighting, and I just thought it was too on the nose / in bad taste. arguable how meta you need meta/absurdist work to be ofc but that decision wasn't for me.

the other lighting choices were great. it starts SO dark. I had lower balcony seating and have great vision, but the start spotlight was so soft the two of them were damn fuzzy for me at the beginning. they gradually get more light in the spotlight, and then it expands. there was a great sunrise moment where they turned the Big Warm Light on the audience and it truly felt like a sunrise over me. the final "rosenc--? guilden--? now you see me / now you don't" from billy was beautifully performed. the lights split the stage into two distinct chambers, truly separating r&g for the first time despite any previous physical distance. I did get a little choked up.

(the final hamlet scene that follows jarred me from the emotion a bit because the horatio actor didn't even try at an accent ToT and it was just weirdly red-lit and they came in with the autotune for the Big End of Speech). and I wish they hadn't made it so Intense and Dramatic because they of course we get our time loop / back to the start / they start on "heads!" and it's such a hold-your-breath type moment. boydmonaghan are good enough that it brought me back but damn. (horatio actor please don't skip vocal lessons again.)

and yeah then I skipped stage door because it made me a little uncomfortable and I went home!

I was very lucky to go and I took my lovely wife (who liked it very much despite only having seen hamlet the day before lol). anyway if you can go I highly recommend! I am even considering pulling a @thealogie and going to see if I can scoop some last-minute box office tickets one of my remaining days here.

ask box is of course open for any questions <3

quick edit: I will say, sincerely, the r&g audience was one of the worst audiences I’ve been in. none of these people knew what the fuck was going on. I wanted to eject them all from their seats into the city skyline and have the theatre to myself (+ wife). literally constantly “what” “what is going on” “huh” from around us. go away. mutuals please come see this show so I can sit with you and not next to someone trying to have a y/n when they look at the audience.

edit 2: I think I mentioned but I did have lower balcony seating. I could see well! I think I might have preferred to be a bit closer just for the microexpressions I probably missed, but I would echo others in saying there really were no *bad * seats at all.

edit 3: stage door is out front to the left of the main doors if you're interested. I personally was not (I already have something signed by billy/have met him multiple times, and would prefer to meet dom at a comic con setting because that makes me more comfortable than stage door).

#might come back and edit or add more later but here's some hasty thoughts #rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead #theatre #r&g toronto #text

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crows-home · 1 year

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hey! i hope you don’t mind me asking, but do u have any fics you recommend reading? (specifically sonic fandom ones)

im so sorry anon but im probably the worst when it comes to fic recs. I just started using the bookmark function on ao3 like last month. There's probably tons of fics that i've read and absolutely loved, but never saved and are just collecting dust in my history ToT

i'm going to shout out a few of my favorite authors whose works i absolutely adore and some fics under the cut!

There's definitely more authors and fics i missed, but this is what i was able to come up with!! in general, the sonic community is full of so much talent and i'm just really happy to be here :)

@cozyqueerchaos - I love every single piece they put out honestly and these fics are the reason i dipped my toes more into the sonic fandom years ago. they're THAT good. love them all.

@phantomruby - another wonderful fic writer that everyone should check out. "Slipping Away" makes me cry fr, although i haven't caught up on the latest updates. everything just makes my heart go oshfdsfhd

@chaoxfix - sonic fics are wonderful sonic takes are top notch i dig everything. the understanding of the characters and archie is just phenomenal.

@teamxdark - fell in love with the Tales of Avalon series and fell harder in love with the team dark Boomtober fics and dynamics and aaaaaa, wonderful writing and style.

@rubyiiiusions - every fic is a joy to read and every story really just gets your attention and keeps it till the end. i've bookmarked a few of them since last week :)

I went digging through my history and here are some of my personal favorite Sonic fics!

radio silence under a yellow sky by chaox Summary: Sonic finds out Tails is missing. And more importantly, that no one's been looking for him.

A gen fic about Sonic finding out Tails was MIA during Forces it's so so good i think about it a lot

falling by sonosuke Summary: Shadow likes a boy

sonadow during SA2 I'll cry. so angsty but it makes me :')

Birds of a Feather by SonicaSpeed123 Summary: Sonic has been trapped in Camelot for three years, but he's started to make a place for himself that he can finally be comfortable in with his beloved Lancelot Something has been bothering him, though: If all the people of this world look like the people back home, where is Sonic's lookalike?

Lansoni. Part of a series of SatBK mini fics that i really love, but this one especially because it answers the question of 'what about the Sonic doppleganger?'

you can hardly swallow your fears and pain by chaox and sketchjii Summary: Shadow is usually better at putting up that cold, unfeeling front, isn't he? Or maybe that's him. (or: sonic doesn't need to be in touch with his feelings if he pretends they don't exist in the first place)

One of my all time faves i love it so much i dont think i have the right words. shadow tries to give sonic mental health advice. it does not go well. takes place some time after Forces.

the time has come again for stars by rubyillusions Summary: (five times someone notices sonic and shadow are in love and one time they do something about it)

sonadow, Teen. obsessed with how the characters are written here and the way all of their friends interpret their relationship it's just so cute and sweet and shit and i love it a lot.

against every odd by eggskie Summary: "We're friends?" Nine asks, small and timid, and oh, doesn't that break Sonic's heart. "Of course we are. We always have been. Or we always should have been." Or: Nine isn't used to being cared about

wanna see how hard i can cry? Gen, Sonic Prime fic about sonic and tails and what they should have been.

Dreams Don't Come True by Skyblaze Summary: Short, mildly humorous fic with sonadow flavouring. It also takes the mickey extensively out of the Sonic the Hedgehog 2006 Next Gen game. Warning: not to be taken seriously.

This fic is just really silly i like it a lot :)

A largely platonic cave by mousewritings Summary: "You know I uh, love hanging out with you and all, but do you think we could go somewhere that's not a cave for once?" Shadow stares at him. "What do you mean, go somewhere that's not a cave? Think you're too good for caves?"

Sonic Boom Sonic and Shadow (pre-slash sonadow) my beloveds <3<3 this fic is so funny they're so insufferable

Also, uh. I know you said only Sonic fics but i'm going to add a few more fics that i really really love from different fandoms because i reread them a lot, i hope you don't mind! ^^

Our way by shpeeper Summary: Overall, the mission was pretty simple. Sniper was instructed to track the spy for a week, figure out his daily patterns, then put a bullet in his brain when no one is around. No one told him there would be a kid. An AU in which Spy raises Scout alone, and Sniper is hired to kill Spy.

Oh my fucking god i could go on about this fic. Sniperspy, Teen, TF2. filled with action and danger. Every time a new character would get introduced, i would have fun piecing together who they were in my mind. the first chapter already had me emotional, it's been in my brain for YEARS. And don't even get me STARTED with the twist at the end. holy shit.

Desmodontinae by Romiress Summary: Kirk wakes up in a Gotham that is not his own. A what-if, where Gods and Monsters Batman winds up in the DCU. Originally intended as a short oneshot, and expanded out into a small story, exploring the differences, struggles, and conclusions. Focuses primarily on Kirk Langstrom (G&M Batman), with a side or Hernan Guerra (G&M Superman), Damian Wayne, and Bruce Wayne. Guest appearances by various other Robins, Clark and Jon Kent, and several others.

The Gods and Monsters DC team means so much to me and oh my god this fic was made with so much love and care for the characters. It's been a while since i read it, but i remember this fic had me staying up literally all night, eagerly going through all the chapters, one at a time. i was in bed kicking my sheets quietly irl lmao.

#answers #fanfiction #fic rec #btw if youre an author and dont want to be tagged lmk! ill remove it no questions #also im so sorry this has been sitting in my drafts for so long anon. i spent a week clicking through my history #to find fics and then trying to figure out how to format this lmao.#i dont mind these asks at all i just wish i was better at answering them!#anyway go support all these authors and more if i could there would be so many people i'd tag and gush about but i dont want to make #this post longer than it already is so ill stop here

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koraesrambles · 6 months

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Thoughts on the conclusion of Gotham War

Alright, so I've made it absolutely no secret that I've been enjoying the crap out of Gotham War. Is it structurally sound with good pacing and clear stakes? HELL no. It's not an air tight story, there are so many holes in all of the characters logic, but it is also an extremely good time.

I don't mind loose storylines in comics like this. Mostly because the premise "full grown man dresses up as a bat and cannot stop himself from mass adopting every orphan that looks like him" is already so ridiculous that anything they posit as a solution in their "war on crime" I think, "Yeah, I can see that." None of the rules of this world make sense.

But I don't really read most things for their air tight plot. Slight detour (There's a point, I swear!), but some perfect examples of this are Puss in Boots and the Last Wish and The Super Mario Bro movie. The last wish is PHENOMENAL. A literal work of art. I've seen it so many times and just basked in it's beauty. Love everything about it, absolutely stellar. But do you know what movie made me look up fan content, read fics, and forced me to buy the digital copy of the movie before the DVD came out? Yep. Mario Bros.

Why? Because I like stories about brothers who love each other and the mario movie gave me exactly that. It's not an air tight, phenomonal story with gorgeous real world applications, but it gave me a fun time where two characters worried about each other incessantly and honestly? that is what I'm here for.

So back to Gotham War. If I'm not actually looking for a ground breaking story (which honestly, I know those happen in these big super hero comic books but I feel like they're usually the *exception* rather than the rule) and just want good character interactions, then Gotham War delivered phenomenally. Especially since my favorite character was the one constantly being wrung through the wringer.

It was a great time. I enjoyed reading it, the art is better than anything I could ever produce even when the characters made weird faces. It was great. But did they stick the ending?

Eh, endings are hard. I would love to see more consequences for Bruce. Him just going off at the end and getting away with the horrible things he did to Jason is annoying. I almost wanted Jason to actually die at the end there, just so that Bruce would feel stupid and sad. If Bruce never acknowledges what he did to Jason (which . . . he probably won't, given the track record) then I'll be pretty disappointed. That's some juicy angst right there that should absolutely be addressed.

And I appreciated that literally every character that interacted with Bruce that knew about what he'd done yelled at him for it. Even Dick's seeming about-face at the end with "I'm sure you had your reasons" came after two weeks of getting used to the idea AND him trying to actually get Bruce to make good choices for once. I mean, Bruce doesn't, but A for effort, Dick. Thanks for punching him in the face last time, that was cathartic.

I surprisingly really like the fact that it wasn't Zur who did this to Jason. It was Bruce. Horrible, wacked-out, messed up Bruce Wayne who is so desperate to control everything around him and so terrified of losing the people he loves that he constantly overrides them like they're his freaking pets. Bruce is in a BAD place, and I sure hope that there will be tons of fics exploring that even if canon never acknowledges it.

But that's how I deal with comic universes like this. Everyone jokes that "Canon? what canon!" and we all laugh but honestly . . .yeah. Like, seriously. Canon is whatever works for the writer's plot in the moment. They make stuff up and contradict themselves all the time. They're constantly retconning stuff. It doesn't take away from any of the stories I like, I can still read them. And at this point, legitimately, I approach every single comic I come up on as though it's an AU. There is no canon timeline for me, because it's too messy. DC is literally just an AO3 platform that's allowed to make money.

Because the people who originally created these characters are long gone. These guys (gender neutral) writing and drawing the comics now are just fans like we all are. It's all fake. None of it is real. So let's all just have a good time.

I was talking to some friends about this and they pointed out, "It's difficult because people feel like when they're constantly screwing around with things like that why should they even care about the characters?" And they were absolutely right, that's extremely frustrating to deal with. I put a lot of emotional investment into characters, but every writer is going to approach the characters differently and with a universe like DC has, you just have to roll with it. There are no stakes. We all complain about it, but nothing is done to change it because we love these characters and we'll keep coming back for more, and so they keep having to make more content and that means messing with stuff they already have. It's a never ending cycle. These are living legends, mythology that's being written out in real time. Nothing about them are ever going to be cohesive.

Wow this is getting long, sorry about that. Things I loved about the Gotham War conclusion: Jason almost sacrificing himself and being a hero even though he was terrified. A+ content. Gorgeous, you go my boy! Tim telling everyone how to beat up all the rouges (Good job sweetheart, way to be a morally ambiguous little shit like you always are). Even if he claimed to be the second best robin at the end, those are fighting words my man. I also liked Jason's "Go 'save' another one of your sons." jab. That was great. I liked that everyone told Bruce he was wrong, even if it could have been stronger. The rest of the issue was plot stuff that I didn't really care too much about. I really like Bat/Cat, so I didn't mind those scenes too much even though Bruce is still the worst (affectionate AND derogatory).

I didn't really expect anything spectacular from the conclusion, and it really did end kind of like what I expected (nothing's changed except now Jason gets to deal with the Joker when he's sick with Super Anxiety -- which I actually am really excited for). But it wasn't as much fun as some of the previous issues.

That said, I would not mind owning an omnibus of all the gotham war issues, if just to re-read all of my favorite scenes. There were some truly unhinged crap in there, and that's just my cup of tea.

Story telling quality? eh, 6/10

enjoyment had? 9/10

#batman #batman gotham wars #gotham wars #batman/catwoman scorched earth #bruce wayne #selina kyle #jason todd #catwoman #red hood #DC comics #Comic review #i guess #gotham war spoilers

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