#I read a fic so absolutely abusive and toxic I decided to make my own wholesome moshang to cleanse myself

[crash-and-cure]

If I Were You Part 2 (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: Reader tries to navigate the immeadiate aftermath after that fateful night with Elvis, to varying success. WIth his return to performing on the horizon reader questions is if there is a way of forward that causes the least amount of damage for both parties. Elvis sees only one path forward.

Note: This is based on @venus-haze One shot If I Were You. Please go read that before this because it’s absolutely incredible. And yes before anyone asks I had her full permission to continue the story and she has been on board the whole time. I swear on my life this was originally a one-shot to continue on and let it be known what I saw for reader and Elvis’ future. Then about 5k into this story and realizing there were so many scenes I wanted to add within the first week alone for these two, I just went all in and decided to restrain this chapter to a week. There will be at least one more chapter following this. Reader is cis female, and aside from that no other descriptors are used. Full disclosure I do use this song, which, while never performed by him, has all the makings of one, and it fit to well in the scene it’s in. I do have a Bachelor’s in Psychology, but I am not a therapist, so nothing here should be treated as genuine mental health advice. That being said there is alot more focus on reader this time around. Please read the warnings before deciding to read.

Word Count: 10.5k

Warnings: Yandere fic so there are themes of obsessive , manipulative, and delusional behavior as well as some heavy allusions to blackmail, emotional and otherwise, here too. There is an informal therapy session depicted here as well in which topics such as performance anxiety, sex, exploitation, and substance abuse are discussed. Depictions of drinking that may be seen as delving into alcohol abuse territory, as well as some other erratic behavior on readers part. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes oral (f. recieving), pentrative sex (m/f), spanking, some daddy kink, and other dom/sub undertones sprinkled throughout. And of course Elvis’ mommy issues and readers daddy issues (truly aa match made in hell). Finally depictions of a toxic relationship that include power imbalances, manipulation, and uses of coercion. Please do not interact if you are under 18.

Part 1  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

My Masterlist

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You kept that bottle of wine, you can’t fully explain why though. Worse yet you kept it in the bottom drawer of your desk, and every time you opened that drawer these past few months you were always secretly hoping that it wouldn’t be there and would always feel the disappointment when it continued to be there out of your sight. How poetic you thought idly as Elvis forced open that locked drawer after curiosity over the glass clinking sound had gotten the better of him.

Recognizing the bottle he let out a dark chuckle. “Well I’ll be damned. Thought you didn’t take gifts from us patients, Doc?” he said, very much amused as he used his teeth to take the cork out. “Don’t worry though mama,” he paused taking a swig, “I forgive ya’. Least I could do after all ya’ gave tonight.” 

Shaking both in shock and humiliation, you grabbed the bottle and after nursing it for a beat too long, you proceeded to ride him to oblivion as he sat in your own desk chair in some twisted attempt to regain control of the situation. Though the closer you got to your peak, it became clear that this was all in vain. The way he sat there, lounging back, one hand behind his head and the other leaving finger-sized bruises on your rear, guiding you as you desperately chased your release, he was the very image of a King on his throne. It was on that thought that you proceeded to shatter around him once again that night, drifting as he whispered in your ear what a good girl you were. 

The rest of the night proceeded as a blur as the next conscious thought you had would be wondering how you were going to get to work the next day as he drove you home in his own car. You don’t quite remember giving him directions, but for the sake of your sanity you just assumed you did. And in some perverted form of chivalry, he even walked you to your front door and gave you a tender, almost sweet, kiss as though he didn’t have you bent over your own desk not even an hour ago, before departing into the night. 

You’re in a fugue state as you work toward your nightly routine. You don’t taste your dinner, you don’t hear the music from your neighbor’s radio, and you especially don’t feel his cum flaking on the skin beneath your blouse. Nope. Definitely not. You’re too ashamed to even look at yourself going so far as to shower with your lights off. 

As you settle into bed that night, your sleep is fitful as you try your best to decide what to do about this night. In the end, with all the evidence of your tryst washed away, you resolve to ignore these feelings at the very least until you have to see him again. 

What you can’t ignore the next morning is your car, that had no business being there, in its usual spot, along with your keys in the ignition. Not really trying to think too hard on the implications you would rush to work hoping to clean up before your first client of the day.

To your surprise everything in your office is already in order: No furniture askew, no suspicious stains on the desk or chairs, not even the panties that you swore didn’t come home with you anywhere in sight. The only proof that last night even happened at all was the broken desk drawer and the slight tenderness on your ass.

The days following that session were hazy at best to you as, even during work, your mind was occupied by him. You formulated plans as to how best to address what happened and why it must never happen again. Elvis has always had a reputation as a bit of a cad, so perhaps you can both treat this as a one time thing. Something that he had to get out of his system in order to successfully further his treatment. Even in session he confessed that he had trouble with maintaining monogamy to almost all of his previous partners - though, you thought, he did immediately follow that up with the justification that he was looking for the “right” girl. 

You pushed that notion away, he will understand - he has to understand - that it would be better to return to the previous professional relationship. So come Thursday morning, you take steps to effectively unsex yourself; no makeup, loose fitting pants and blazer, hair in a less than flattering style, the whole nine yards. All of this done in an effort to make yourself a less viable option for a sexual partner .

As you leave your apartment you catch a glimpse of your ill-fitting attire and you can’t help but be reminded how as a child you would wear your fathers suits and declare you were going to be a Doctor like him. As you would swim in his oversized coat, you remember feeling lucky to receive a dismissive glance your way and monotone orders to return the clothes back where you found them. You rush out to your car before you can dwell on that train of thought.

If your other patients noticed your sudden change in style that day, no one mentioned it. You had previously taken pride in the level of professionalism you were able to maintain, but in the grand scheme of things, looking frumpy for one day of work could hardly be deemed the worst thing you have done. 

As 4 PM rolled around you were still in the process of convincing yourself that you were ready to confront this head on by not confronting it and acting as though nothing ever happened. You can do this- you have to do this- you told yourself. 

4:15 PM, you were ready for the knock on the door that would not come that night. 

4:30 PM, you were still waiting in a rigid state with your pen and notebook clenched in your hands, full attention at the wooden door, like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. You shudder at the comparison. 

4:45 PM, you were justifying his tardiness with his upcoming concert, and even with your barebones knowledge of performing, you realize that these types of things are planned weeks, even months in advance. And so you wait.

5 PM and you’re already mentally packing up to go back to your apartment. You know that all of your things are sitting at your desk but you wanted to spend as little time looking at it as possible. These past few days, you had the irrational fear that even so much as looking at where your indiscretion happened would tip off everybody. You disregard that reflexive response that makes you clench your thighs together when you look in its direction. 

5:15 PM you can no longer ignore the stiffness in your back but you're doing your best to disregard the feeling of rejection that has settled in the pit of your stomach. Because this seems to be the place where you make your worst decisions, you decide to pull out that damned bottle of wine. You see the teeth marks on the cork, and you push down the part of you that blushes at the thought of putting your mouth where his was. 

It is in that moment with the stopper wrenched free and you thinking about a man you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about, does the shrill tone of your office phone ring. It’s embarrassing really how quickly your hand shoots to answer it, moreso when you answer with a mouthful of cork. 

“Hww-” you quickly spit it out. “Hello this is Dr. Y/L/N.”

It is little comfort when you recognize the voice. 

“Baby I’m so sorry that I missed tonight, but I coulda swore I told one a my boys to let ya’ know I wouldn’t make it.” he said apologetically. “We got rehearsal’s all this week for Saturday and my minds been all over the damn place.”

Baby, you thought as you took a quick gulp of wine. Early on, he had slipped and called you tha, maybe a month or two into his treatment. You, as gently as you could, informed him how you would appreciate it if he wouldn’t refer to you as such. He reassured you that he meant nothing by it as he apparently calls everyone that from time to time. You accepted that answer and didn’t say anything the few times he would say it later on. 

Looking at the bottle in your hand, you had spent the last few days blaming it for being your first misstep in your career, but retrospect is funny like that and you’re now realizing it was one in a series of many over the last year. With him continually elbowing his way back into your life, you doubt it will be your last. 

“That’s alright Mr. Presley, just please don’t let this happen again in the future.” is your response, wanting to end this conversation as quickly as possible. “I’ll see you for your next session on Monday.” 

“Speakin’ a that. I was hoping we could reschedule today for Saturday,” he said before you could lift the receiver from your ear. 

“Mr Presley, I don’t work on Saturday’s,” you half-heartedly protested. 

“Then you’re free,” he quickly countered. “Doc, it’s just that… I’mma need some help gettin’ my head straight before the show, cause it’s been over a year since I done this, and even longer since I done a show sober.”

You immediately clock what he’s trying to do, and for all the ill-advised actions you’ve taken in the last week, you didn’t get your license out of a cracker jack box. “Elvis, that is in no way appropri-”

“Well it’s the show,” he quickly cuts you off. There is a dark edge to his tone as he continues. “And what happened on Monday. I think I really need to talk to someone ‘bout it.”

It doesn’t have to be you, goes unsaid.

He’s got you there and you know it, and currently you’re in no state of mind to try to find a way around this. So rather than doing anything semi-responsible and enforcing the boundary you have set, you down most of what’s left of the bottle and agree. 

“Darlin’ that’s perfect. If there’s one thing I can promise, it's a helluva show” You can almost feel the self-satisfied grin over the phone. “I also been thinkin’ ‘bout what you said with not lettin’ people know that you’re my therapist, and you’re right.”

The neck of the bottle is clenched so tightly in your fist, you’re concerned it may shatter at this point. That earlier feeling of rejection being quickly replaced with dread.

“So I think I best I send you a lil’ somethin’ to wear for the show, I want them knowin’ you’re my girl, not my shrink, and you don’t exactly dress the part Doll.” he says this with such a cool authority that leaves no room for argument.

You stared off into space with this offer. You’re idly reminded of months ago when you had him practice an exercise in control. He did, you observed, have an excessive need for control in almost every aspect of his life, but this mindset also held the detrimental effect that everything that went wrong was also his fault due to the control he felt. So you came up with this exercise so you could both figure out where it is reasonable to be in control, and in which places he could relinquish it a bit. One aspect he mentioned that he often controlled was the way his girlfriends dressed, which you will admit made you do a double take. The only thing you commented on that detail was that so long as both parties were consenting he was truly not in control of the entire situation. 

Doll indeed, you think bitterly. Did he take it as a challenge? Whatever the case may be, one thing becomes evident. You have no doubt what his intentions are anymore, no overwhelming emotions clouding his judgment, nor any post-orgasmic high having him say things he doesn’t mean. 

As you look at the near empty bottle of wine while you sit in the room where your career has lived and will inevitably die, you can hardly say the same thing about yourself.

Mark had insisted you keep it that night months ago, and after realizing that there was no way of returning it to Elvis without bringing up the incident again, you kept it in your office for the sole reason that it felt wrong to keep it in your apartment. Too Intimate, you had thought. You begin to wonder how your life would have been had you told Mark why you wished to refuse the wine. Maybe you would have been strong enough to put your foot down and keep this relationship professional… or maybe he would have taken the same approach you took, and let it slide under the guise of Elvis not knowing any better at the time. Elvis seemed to have that effect on people, of wanting to justify his actions in spite of it everything.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the way he sounded when exhausted, or just maybe it was looking into Pandora's proverbial drawer and finally finding those lost panties with the evidence of your attraction to him stained into the fabric. Whatever it was you found yourself finishing off the bottle and agreeing to his requests - demands really-  and drunkenly trying your best to rationalize to yourself why you shouldn’t burn your license to ash at this very moment. 

The next day rolls around and you return to your normal wardrobe. Though that morning you can’t help but take an extra long look at it as though the promised new addition will change it fundamentally. You chalk that thought up to you still being hungover. As the day continues, you try your best to be more attentive to your patients that day, because even if you failed to do so once, these people deserve a space free from your own personal issues.

You’re not surprised to be met with a package at your doorstep, though the colored box and large bow it arrives in are a bit much for what you assumed to be a single dress. What you’re met with inside is in fact a full outfit complete with even the undergarments you assume you’re expected to wear. The style itself so far from your typical business professional taste, it circles into the territory of a disguise. You even have to admit that there is an air of brilliance to it, since you doubt even you would be able to recognize yourself in this outfit.

Though in that regard, you already have a lot of trouble doing so lately.

Your tentative plan as of right now is to attend the concert and take part in this impromptu therapy session, and you will discuss with him what happened and explain why it is in fact critical to his mental well-being that this affair goes no further. You begrudgingly admit that come Monday, you will have to start from square one with him, but this is the only path forward you can see anymore.

That Saturday morning is devoted to running in and out of grocery stores, trying to gather as many tabloids featuring Elvis as possible, if you’re going to -temporarily- play the part he wants you to play, you will have to look like it. The rest of the day is devoted to primping and preening to get said right look. This brings back memories from undergrad, you and a friend preparing for a double date and Priscilla, along with various other celebrity faces, taped to the mirror for inspiration. Specifically you remember after being able to achieve her dramatic cat eye, your friend joking that if this college thing didn’t work out for you, you could put in an application for being Elvis’ next girl. You laughed at how preposterous that idea was at the time.

Your thoughts of the past are quickly interrupted by rapid knocking at your front door, and you quickly put the finishing touches on your makeup and throw on the ensemble. At the door you’re met with a familiar blonde whose apparent agitation swiftly surpasses whatever momentary discomfort he clearly feels at encountering you once again. Though in that moment you’re at least grateful Elvis had the good sense to not involve anyone else in this matter (that and the fact he didn’t send a limo).

Getting into the car you’re praying for a long and silent trip to the show. Jerry not reading the room says to you “Sorry for rushing you out the door back there, um…” he says. “It’s just been a bit of a crazy week, and the Boss is just wigging out about every single detail.”

“I understand” you attempt to placate, wishing for this exchange to end as soon as possible. “You have a job to do.”

“By the looks of it, so do you,” he says in an attempt to joke, though he quickly cuts himself off after seeing you tense up. He quickly apologizes and as you turn to look out the window, you hear what sounds like a flask being opened and Jerry downing a good portion of it. 

You resist the urge to demand a shot of whatever he’s drinking because, as poorly timed as that joke was, you are on the clock. And for as unprofessional as you have been lately, you don’t think you’ve quite gotten to the level of drinking right before a session. Because that’s what this is: an emergency/supplemental session that will precede a momentous occasion for your patient, and out of respect for his privacy, you are in disguise so that no one will know he’s even seeing a therapist. You’re hoping the more you tell yourself that the less ridiculous it will sound.

And due to the fact you're on the job you reason, it may be best to get an idea of his state before going in. “How has he been today? I’m sure the stress of the event is getting to him,” you ask.

“Yeah, uhh… he’s been in a bit of a mood all day,” he says carefully.

“Meaning?” 

“He’s basically been sayin’ that he wouldn’t perform until he saw you,” he says, looking anywhere but at you.

And there it is, you think. You give a simple nod in acknowledgement to Jerry, as he is all too happy to let this conversation peter out. You now recognize what Elvis is attempting and using Jerry as a proxy for. Despite all your training that tells you that you’re not responsible for any actions your patients take, you feel yourself start to shoulder the burden of getting him to perform tonight. Not only that but it seems you also bear the responsibility of putting him in the right headspace to perform well tonight. 

The rest of the ride to the show itself is quiet, which you’re grateful for, as it gives you time to steel yourself. Jerry as well seems to ease into a more relaxed demeanor the way one would when doing something that has become routine. It seems he’s no stranger to ferrying women to the King of Rock and Roll. 

Regardless of the slight pang of sorrow you feel momentarily at that observation, you try to see the upside to it. That this… thing with Elvis, your patient you have to remind yourself, will be short-lived. 

Arriving at the venue, you are immediately led backstage, and you’re not sure you can write off the feeling that everyone was watching you to paranoia on your part. Whatever it was, you surmised, there were more than a few people beyond Elvis expecting your arrival. As you were ushered to his dressing room, you felt equal parts dread and anticipation as to what would be on the other side.

What you weren’t expecting was your office. Though that may be a stretch, you can’t seem to find the logic in a dressing room having two chairs facing each other with a small table between them complete with a box of tissues right on top. The entire arrangement takes up an inordinate amount of space in an already cramped room, and you can’t help but conclude that it is intentional. 

You find the man of the hour in an open robe (sans shirt, though thankfully with pants on) sitting cross legged on the sofa in what you recognize to be a meditative position. You wouldn’t say he is quite disheveled, but every time you’ve seen him, he’s looked nothing less than immaculate. So finding him in this state with his hair undone and no ostentatious clothing is slightly jarring. Upon hearing the door open he cracks open one eye, and seeing you his face breaks into that handsome grin you’ve become far too familiar with. “Y/N, baby you’re here.” he says feigning surprise.

Not even acknowledging what he just said, you make your way into the room and Jerry, clearly just as disturbed by the setup, closes the door behind you. You glance at the clock on the wall showing that you had a little over 2 hours until the concert was set to start, just enough time for a full session and then some for him to get ready for the show. There is no way this was not meticulously planned, you conclude. 

You sit down placing your bag on the floor, as he takes his time to stretch out for a bit before he strolls his way to sit astride the chair across from you. There with an amused look on his face, he says nothing apparently wanting you to start. 

Considering there is no protocol as to how to conduct a session in this highly specific situation, and not wanting to immediately open with the elephant in the room, you decide to begin with just idle chit chat. “So… um, I didn't know you practiced meditation.”

“Yeah, it was somethin’ I picked up in San Diego,” he says off-handedly.

“I’m glad that it works for you,” you say as neutrally as possible. 

“Oh, it don’t,'' he clarifies. “It works in gettin’ everyone to leave me the fuck alone for awhile. But not in the other ways it’s supposed to.”

You nod your head in acknowledgement as he continues. “I got into yoga when I was down there too.”

“Do you find that works better for you?”

“Yeah,” he verifies. “When I feel somethin’ real bad, I gotta move. It don’t matter how.” This makes sense as he's a very physical person. You are aware of his love for Karate, and you briefly consider recommending he pick up Tai Chi as a happy medium between meditation and martial arts to help him in achieving mindfulness. Your thoughts are interrupted as he continues. “Too bad I ain’t been able to practice in a while.”

“And why is that?” you softly probe.

“I been needin” a partner,” he said with a sly grin, very much an offer.

There’s your opening, you think to yourself. This is the moment you can make a bid to reinforce some level of boundaries between the two of you. Where you can tell him that Monday was a mistake and should never happen again. That this infatuation with you is in fact detrimental to his mental well-being and will destroy your career. And most importantly that there is no future between the two of you.

“Elvis, please” you say, exhaling in frustration. “About what happened on Monday… I think it would be best if we-”

“Well,” he chimes in, “I think it best we save that talk for another time,” his severe delivery leaving no room for argument. Fear grips your throat as he continues in a notably softer tone, “Everything out there is ready for me to play, but up here,” he says, putting two fingers to his temple. “I don’t know ‘bout. Darlin’ I need your help right now, because I can’t do this without you”

Almost everything within you says to push forward no matter what, and tell him right here and now. The one thing that stops you is knowing for a fact he will be devastated with what you have to say. And then what? You leave and he’s unable to perform, leaving hundreds devastated. And come Monday will he even show up, or will he make the call and have you immediately reported for your part in this whole ordeal. Not to mention the long-term variables of if he will even want to continue therapy should you fail to get him ready tonight.

You sigh in defeat, as it appears you have no choice but to concede on this matter and focus on the immediate task at hand. “So you mentioned over the phone that your head’s been all over the place this week. Tell me, is this how you normally feel in the days leading up to a performance?” 

He looks pleased with your question and answers “Not in the last few years no. I mean, first time in Vegas it was a little like this, but after a while that all became routine.”

He leans his chair back and reaches behind him to the vanity table to reach for a glass of water. This angle puts his full chest on display and you can’t help but rake your eyes over the hair there and follow the trail of it down to his-

Focus, you think to yourself.

He offers you a glass, and in spite of how dry your mouth feels at the moment, you are trying to no longer accept anything from him at this point regardless of how small, so you refuse. “Tell ya’ what though,” he says, taking a sip. “I ain’t feel this nervous since my early days of performin’ and I would shake somethin’ fierce on stage,” he laughs a little at this statement. “That’s actually parta where all my dancin’ came from.” 

“I see.”

It’s unsettling how you could almost mistake the rest of your time together as a typical session with him. The only cosmetic differences being the harsh lighting from the vanity behind him and the uncomfortable feeling from the leather chair sticking to the back of your thighs. You’re also at a bit of a loss as to what to do with your hands without anything to take notes in, and the outfit has you feeling particularly vulnerable. As for his part you doubt you’ve ever seen him this relaxed in your presence before; leaning back with his legs spread and his robe exposing a mouth-watering amount of his torso. If you had to guess, it may have something to do with you being in his territory so to speak, as opposed to the typical setting of your office. Or maybe he’s just into your humiliation.

Aside from those factors, you would have even labeled today as a successful session… that is until the conversation takes a turn.

“I’ve done what feels like a thousand shows, most of them without all that crap Nic was pumping me with, but it feels like… I don’t know. Like that was some other guy that was performin’ and that he ain’t here tonight.”  

“This ‘other guy’ has he always been a part of the way you perform?” 

“I ain’t feel like myself on stage in a long time.” he said morosely.

“Elvis, I want you to try to recall a concert where you did feel like your true self. It doesn’t have to be the last time you felt this way, just the most memorable.” You replied leaning forward.

The half smirk that creeps on to his face makes you regret that question though. “Actually the show that comes to mind is the comeback special. You seen it before?” he asked. 

Yes. “...No, I-I believe I missed that one,” you manage to stutter out.

He grins knowingly, “Well they had me in front of an audience, maybe less than a hundred people and had me dressed all in leather with only a small square for a stage. In spite all that I felt free especially since Parker had almost nothin’ to do with it,” he said wistfully. “He chewed me out later for it, sayin’ shit like how it was no real audience and that they were told when to clap. But I knew…”

His hungry gaze meets yours and you feel a kin to prey about to be devoured. “You wanna know how I knew?” he said.

In spite of your gut instinct that you are delving into dangerous territory with this conversation, you’re far too curious at this point. So you try to swallow that uneasy feeling and reply in the affirmative.

“I came in my pants,” he says, taking a sip of his water, as neutral and matter of fact as if he were just telling you what he ate for dinner last night. 

“Wh-what?” you said, for the first time in your career, truly at a loss for words. 

Sex certainly wasn’t a taboo subject to discuss with your patients, and it wasn’t even the first time you discussed it with Elvis himself. But those conversations typically surrounded your patient's fears of intimacy with a new partner, and even though that wasn’t a concern for Elvis, he did make reference to it when discussing his need to please others. Most importantly though when discussing sex with a patient, you’ve never actually had the experience with them.

“It was the weirdest thing, Doc. Never happened before, hasn’t happened since,” he said, at complete ease with himself. “Sure a few close calls here and there, but it never got to that point. Hell, it mighta been the suit itself that did it for me. What ya’ think it means doll?”

And what can you say to that really? You try to even out your shallow breathing as your mind races through the possible implications of this reaction. You have certainly never met another performer before so you’re unsure whether this is even unusual to those in his line of work, but at the same time most people who do what they love for a living also aren’t sexually aroused by it, let alone reach climax through it alone. Previously you would have labeled yourself as firmly within that category, but that damp feel beneath your dress proves otherwise. 

Across from you, he waits patiently for your reply, but he is also openly delighted by your squirming state. 

“I-” you clear your throat. “Um… Sex is a perfectly natural thing.”

“Don’t I know it,” he smiles rakishly.

“Yes I…” you say, briefly losing your train of thought. “A way of interpreting the… arousal you feel on stage is that being there and performing in front of an audience comes just as naturally to you. As for what happened at your special, it may have been the moment you felt most acutely aware of your desire to be on stage.”

He nods his head and you continue. “You’ve mentioned previously how you were unsatisfied by your movie career by that point in time. So the return to the stage may have also acted as a cathartic release of all these pent up frustrations you were feeling up until that moment.” 

He raises an eyebrow at that in the way he typically does when he’s confused by your wording. “Basically you were feeling unhappy for a long period of time, so when you felt the joy of being back on stage, you’re…” you hesitate, suddenly embarrassed. “Body, as a result misinterpreted that joy as arousal. And adding to that, Parker’s disapproval as well as the feeling of being free that you described. It all culminated into that… reaction.”

He sits on your presumption for a moment, before chuckling a bit. “I see where you’re comin’ from on that doc. Though I gotta ask.”

You pause, apprehensive to what he may ask. “Ask what?”

“What are my chances for a repeat performance tonight?” he asks in a way you could almost mistake as innocent. As you feel close to hyperventilating, he continues. “I mean those things you brought up from the special are here tonight sooo…” he quirks an eyebrow, putting it on you to continue.

“...well… um” you draw out, truly dumbfounded and without any words to respond to that. You’re only saved from this conversation by hurried knocking at the door behind you. 

“Well, looks like we’re outta time here doc,” he said standing up, prompting you to stand up as well. With a hand on your lower back guiding you to the door, you don’t miss the fact he’s effectively dismissing you. “Baby, thank ya’ for comin’ down here tonight and settin’ me right. And I just want you knowin’ that this whole show is because of you. I don’t think I woulda made it this far without my girl” he said looking down at you and bringing you close while his other hand was on the doorknob. 

Your primary focus is trying your best to collect yourself before you need to go out there, but you’re so astonished by how he just so casually slipped in “my girl” into there. You know then you have to say something.

“But… I’m not your gir-” you quickly cut yourself off as you see his jaw clench, the previous look of satisfaction on a dime replaced with one of intense indignation at your denial. Before you can even begin to feel regret for your refusal, his expression just as rapidly shifts to one of downright mischief. 

Not wanting to find out what that look meant, you attempt to turn towards the door, only to be halted by an iron-like grip on your jaw. “Not my girl, huh?” he says, forcing you  to look at him, as he brings his face closer to yours. He then whispers, his lips just barely brushing yours, “tell that to them.” 

You can’t say you weren’t expecting him to bring his lips closer to yours, but you can say you weren’t expecting to be such a willing participant this time around. You can tell yourself all you want that you did it to save him from the embarrassment of being walked in on with a less than willing woman, but it seems, deep down, the both of you knew better. So you played your part as you grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck as your lips came together, and he was all too willing to believe in your role as his hand snaked down your back. You’ll never fully know (or at least admit) who closed the distance that night.  

All you really know is that being in here with him as he was now, was nothing short of intoxicating, in a way it had never felt in your office. You were not one to participate in drugs, but as his tongue slips past your lips to wrap around your own, you truly believe you could become addicted to this. His scent, his taste, his touch, all of it threatened to consume you whole and never let you go.

He was so all consuming in fact, you barely registered the sound of the door opening beside you, but you definitely don’t miss what feels like a dozen sets of eyes in full view of the both of you. You’re aware that you should in fact be more embarrassed of your compromising position with your arms thrown around his neck and his hand firmly on your ass. But with all the shame you’ve been feeling this past week, this hardly registers as the worst. Though you do feel a spark of it when he pulls away, and you let out a small whine from being denied his plush lips, until you feel them near the shell of your ear. 

His breathy demand for another session after the show is hard to deny in your state, and more so when you see the color of your lipstick haphazardly smeared across his downright sinful smirk. It goes without saying what that will entail, but you surprise even yourself by not immediately running for the hills. Instead you, with all the grace of a newborn fawn, stumble past a line of people rearing to get in and do their job. This venture, not at all aided by the playful swat he gives your behind. The “knowing” looks on some of their faces tells you what they are all assuming. Part of you wishes they were right, because doing that would somehow have been less shameful than what actually happened.

After that “session” you try to compose yourself as best as you can, and make your way to the ladies room. Alone in the restroom you see your face in the mirror and to your relief aside from the smudged lipstick, you look relatively fine. You reach for your bag to touch it up, only to realize that you forgot to grab it when he was leading you to the door. As you shudder at the thought of going back to retrieve it, you finally realize how much of a sopping mess you’ve made of your underwear. 

Insanity is truly your only defense for your next course of action, as you quickly remove your panties and dispose of them. 

After cleaning yourself up a bit, you end up wandering around backstage with a new resolve to not think about him. You still have roughly another hour to kill before the show is set to start, so unsure what to do with yourself until that time, you attempt to strike up conversations with your fellow VIPs. Your attempt at keeping your mind off of him proves fruitless though, as it becomes apparent that word travels fast behind the curtains, and their interest in you begins and ends with Elvis. You’re flooded with questions as to what he’s going to wear tonight, what he’s going to sing, if there will be an afterparty at Graceland and subsequent requests for you to try to get them invited. The only time any questions are directed at you, it’s simply polite inquiry as to where you met him and how long you’ve known him, and you try to be as vague and non-descript as possible.

One woman remarks how she thinks she saw you in a magazine last week along with “the big man himself.”

“Guilty,” you reply with a nervous laugh, because you truly are. How would you even begin to try to explain the truth?

You are able to meet most of the members of the so-called “Memphis Mafia,” and get the rundown as to who does what in the group after asking in an effort to get a basic conversation going. It doesn’t go unnoticed that none of them ask what you do for a living, only mildly interested in the fact you’re the new girl, as though being Elvis’ “girl” is supposed to occupy the totality of your existence. Usually you would take offense to this, but under these circumstances, you know the fewer in the know, the better. 

You don’t think you’ve ever truly considered the world he lives in until this moment. A world in which he’s surrounded on all sides by women that want him, and by men that admire and/or envy him. What does that do to a mind when everybody he meets falls into one of those two categories? How would one handle someone who doesn’t fit into either category? 

Eventually though Jerry finds you and brings you to your seat, front row and center, because of course Elvis would. You know from his stories about his Vegas residency that he would often kiss women in the front row, and you already have a feeling as to how this is going to play out. As Jerry leaves, you contemplate making a break for it at this point, but without your purse, that idea is quickly tossed out.  

You look around your area and breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that all are virtually unrecognizable. You know from the tabloids that this concert was deemed one for the ages already, being essentially his second comeback and with rumors flying around that there would be more than a few international attendants this fact is not all too surprising. There’s a small swelling of pride within you knowing that he is so loved worldwide that you quickly try to stamp down.

As the curtain goes up and the music starts to blare, you make the conscious decision that at this moment you are not his therapist, and that you are merely a fan. That you will be without worries at the state of your career right now, without fear that the APA is breathing down your neck, and definitely without any guilt to the sexual attraction you feel for him at this moment. Afterall you’re a fan, isn’t that just par for the course?

So as he steps on stage and immediately makes eye contact with you, you play your part. You get lost in it even, as you dance and sing and make a fool of yourself. He’s just… incredible doesn’t even begin to describe what he is as you’ve never seen someone move like he does, never felt music as you did in this moment. There’s not a single inch of the stage that’s not occupied by his presence as he’s able to keep the crowd fully enraptured for music they’ve undoubtedly heard hundreds of times before. His command over everything truly brings a new perspective to his King epithet. 

Despite your best efforts you cannot help but think of the comeback special incident and in the brief moments between songs you can’t help but observe and this makes you feel all the more  like a voyeur. In spite of the fact that there’s a couple hundred people watching the same show you are, they aren’t cursed with what you know. Unintentionally you read into every gyration, every hip thrust, even every time he throws his head back looking for any indication. You had thought about what he looks like in the throes of ecstasy an inordinate amount of times already this week, so you even compare every face he makes up there as well. 

Eventually, after two demands for an encore, Elvis merely has to put a finger to his lips to command the rowdy crowd down. “Now before I go,” he pauses with a slight quirk in his lips as he hears their protests, but continues with “I’m gonna leave y’all with somethin’ new.” This statement is met with uproarious applause as he gestures to the band behind him and begins. 

Want me to love you in moderation?

Do I look moderate to you?

Not even two lyrics in, you know you’re in trouble. Previously he had the decency to not single you out as he worked the entire crowd in front of him, but as he sings you know exactly who he’s directing this song to. 

And are you any better? Like the other women in the front row you move to the stage, as you're overpowered with the urgent need to be as close to him as possible. You’re overwhelmed with just about everything at this point: the audience, the song, him, and all your conflicting emotions this past week all reach a crescendo as he kneels on the stage before you. You’re crowded by his fans all reaching out to touch him as though he were some divine being. But you knew better.

Girl, you better learn

Can’t hold it in,

And girl you better learn

I just can’t win

Cause I don’t see the worth

I don’t see the worst

He is something monstrous, demonic almost. Elvis is a siren-like creature who is leading you to your doom. As he leans down closer to you, you stand on your toes, willing your knees to not give in at a time like this. The women around you flock even closer, all trying to get a piece of him, while he puts a hand underneath your chin, his eyes challenging you to stop him. He may very well be a siren but you’re his victim who is all too happy to drown at this point.

And I’m still tryna figure out if it

Always

Always 

Always 

Has to hurt

Unlike the last few times, you were very much prepared for this kiss. At least you were, until he proceeded to lean away from you and plant the kiss on the woman directly next to you. Time slows at this moment, truly forcing you to take in every single detail of what is happening not even a foot away from your face. He kisses her with all the filth and passion you were craving in that moment, and she just as enthusiastically kisses him back. 

His face is glistening with sweat from his performance that runs down onto her, but this woman doesn’t seem to mind. She will leave this concert and forever be able to have an interesting anecdote to tell at every party she will ever attend. This will be her one crazy story to tell about Elvis Presley, and the more logical side of you truly envies that about her. 

Finally, after what was perhaps only seconds but felt like an eternity, he breaks away from the kiss, though that doesn’t ease the heavy stone that has settled in your stomach. You want to cry, you want to scream, and judging from the state of the women around you, you wouldn’t be at all out of place. You’re upset that you’re in this position, you’re devastated over the fact that this is the man who holds your career in the palm of his hand, and most of all, you’re heartbroken that you even wanted him to kiss you at that moment.

Did he not see you? Did he mistake her for you? Shouldn’t you be glad about this new development? That hundreds of people weren’t witness to you flagrantly breaking every rule and ethical responsibility you made upon becoming a therapist? 

He answers all these questions with the single look he gives you as he stands before you, his lips now stained red from that random woman. 

You want looove

You feel a tug at your elbow as Jerry once more guides you backstage. Elvis for his part shamelessly watches you walk away all the while belting out those final lyrics of his song. As the lights from the stage blink out, and the crowd proceeds to explode in near-deafening screams and hollers, and you see him bow out as the curtain drops. You try to make yourself numb to it all as you make your way through the bustling corridors, but in reality you can’t ignore your heartbeat thundering through you, nor the uncomfortably slick feeling between your thighs. 

You have to get out of there and you know it. But you also want to stay and there’s no denying that. You have accepted that he has an unhealthy attachment towards you, and you naively thought you could work to dismantle it over the next few months to get him back on track. But seeing him kiss that other woman made you realize that this attachment threatens to be mutual, and that is truly where it will derail. 

Before you can figure out what you’re going to do, you’re back in front of his dressing room door and you walk in not even having bothered to knock. You find him along with several members of his crew already in there but upon seeing you he grins and a simple wave of his hand has them all scurrying out, leaving the two of you alone. He stays seated at the vanity, too comfortable apparently, with his feet propped up, the upper half of his suit peeled off of him, and a towel around his neck. He doesn’t even bother to fully turn around to look at you directly, he simply watches you through the mirror. 

“You enjoy the show Darlin’?” he says, lightly dabbing himself with the towel. “It sure as hell looked like you did out there.” 

Despite knowing he saw how you behaved, you still try to lie with an indifferent, “You did good up there.”

“Ahh, baby” he draws out in a light teasing tone. “Don’t be like that. Why don’t you come over here and tell daddy what’s wrong?” Your breath hitches at his casual use of that word and you find your feet making the decision for you. You make your way over to him and you finally find your purse on top of the vanity. You go to grab it but in one fluid motion he grabs your hand and you find yourself on his lap. As he leans forward for a kiss, you see the red that still paints his lips and without even thinking you use the towel to wipe some of it off. 

He makes a pleased hum at that, believing that this is what has you acting this way. 

Is it not though? You think sarcastically. After rubbing off most of the color you drop the towel letting it fall back into place on his chest. He takes your hand into his, and your heart does an embarrassing little skip as he gives it a sweet kiss.

“Baby, I was raised to be a gentleman,” he said, adopting a chivalrous affect. “If my bestest girl don’t like me kissin’ others, all she’s gotta do is say so. Then I ain’t never gonna do it again.” His eyes pleading as he waits for your answer.

So that’s what his plan was, you think bitterly. You’re resentful over the fact that it worked at all. But he doesn’t need to know that.

You rip your hand away from him as you reply with as much resolve as you can gather, “You can do whatever you want Elvis,” before mulishly looking away. He evidently didn’t like that answer, as he stood up to prop you onto the vanity and placed himself between your legs. You try to escape his grasp only for him to place his hands at the top of your thighs, effectively pinning you in place.

“I can do whatever I want?” he says in a low, challenging voice, looking you directly in your eyes. It is only then do you regret your wording. Were you not so petrified, you would have admired his ability to quickly turn your own dismissive words into seemingly an invitation. There is no denying the trembling force in your body at this point and with the way he’s holding it is only inevitable that he will find your secret. And as though reading your mind, you feel his thumb brushing your inner thigh, and he finally notices the slick feeling in between. If you're going to be honest with yourself, you think you’re even more wet than when you walked in.

He makes an approving hum as he flips your skirt up, and you get the momentary pleasure of seeing his eyes widen at your lack of underwear. That is until he quickly bunches up the material past your hips and you feel mortified at being naked from the waist down in a room you don’t remember locking. You’re even more mortified as he kneels down and begins to pepper your inner thighs with light kisses. You instinctively try to close your legs, but his grip makes it impossible, and he notices your effort.

“Ahh, sweetness none of that,” he drawls out, emphasizing his point with a small nibble at the sensitive flesh that has you cursing. You feel his hot breath waft over you and as you’re trying to wrap your head around what’s happening, he teasingly licks a stripe up your slit, giving you a taste of what he has to offer. You gasp for air as though you’re about to drown. 

“I can do what I want, can I?” he asks knowing you’re far too preoccupied to answer. “Well I want this,” he purrs, emphasizing his point with a soft kiss to your clit, which you meet with a strangled moan. He chuckles at your reaction before resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. “But I gotta know what my girl wants,” he trails off.

Your muddled mind cannot even begin to process the question itself before he follows up with. “What’d ya’ say mama? Do you wanna be my girl?” he says looking up at you with those piercing blue eyes of his, and you know there is not even a choice anymore. You’re so far gone at this point, you hardly hesitate in saying yes. “No, no mama. I wanna hear you say it.”

You can already feel a few shameful tears trailing down as you cover your face with your hands, as though that will absolve you of your next words. “Yes… I want to be your girl,” you cry out desperately, and he dives straight in. 

All of your composure is tossed out the window the moment you feel his mouth on your needy cunt, you moan and shout freely, no thoughts given to the people undoubtedly outside of the door. He’s going at an unhurried languid pace, exploring your nether regions, seemingly trying to learn what gets the biggest reaction out of you. He’s apparently indifferent to how desperately you need to cum. You grab at his hair and try to bring him closer, desperate for some control of this situation but the noticeable tightening of his grip on your legs make it clear that he’s going to take all the time he wants.

You’re there for what feels like hours before you’re at the point of begging him to let you cum. The King finally takes mercy on you as he stuffs his fingers into you while simultaneously nursing at your clit as you are finally allowed your release.

You’re a mess after that devastating orgasm, and as he brings himself back up to you, you don’t put up a fight to this kiss. You taste yourself on his lips, and the smallest, pettiest part of you feels victorious over that woman whose name you will never get to learn. Before you can dwell on that part of yourself, he spins you around so you’re facing away from him. Despite all of that you still feel yourself wanting for more, and as you look over your shoulder at him, you know he is very aware of that.

“Were you watching mama?” he said, pressing kisses to your neck as he undoes his belt. “Were you sittin’ there, wonderin’ if I did it again, and that’s how you got this wet?” You let out a small keen as you feel his cock just barely brushing at your entrance, and he presses a hand on your back, prompting you to bend over the vanity fully. You give a slight shriek as you feel a sharp swat on your ass. “Answer me,” he growls out, sending another shiver down your spine. 

“Yes,” you say, pushing yourself backwards to him. 

Another swat on the other side, “Yes what?” he rasps.

“Yes daddy,” you nearly cry out and you bury your head into your arms in shame as he drives into you. Once slotted fully inside, he pauses giving you time to adjust to him. The stretch of him burns only slightly this time around, though mostly you feel satisfaction as he feels achingly familiar. 

“You don’t gotta worry mama,” he pants next to your ear. “I saved it all for you,” he says as he slowly begins to push his hips back and forth into you. You find yourself just as eager as you push backwards to keep him within. You close your eyes to the sensations, as this feels like the closest you’ve come to a reprieve in this whirlwind of a week he’s caused. You want to lose yourself here, and for once want to believe as he does that this is any way healthy or sustainable for the both of you. This delusion has the ability to ruin you, but for the moment you truly just want to indulge yourself in it.

Reality will always win out though. At some point he thrusts so hard, your feet no longer meet the ground, and you have to brace yourself on the mirror. Here in this position you’re truly forced to look at yourself for seemingly the first time as you truly are. You see your eyes bloodshot and pupils blown, your mascara trailing down your face, and, mortifyingly, you're drooling from the pleasure at not only what he’s doing to you but the sight you're met with in the mirror. You also see him behind you, looking more animal than man with the way he forces your hips to meet his pace and the snarl that mars his face. It’s all too much for you to handle. The only way to describe how hard you came in that moment would be violently, as you convulse and sob terribly at all the shame and pleasure you’re experiencing in that moment. 

You feel him pull out, and moments later you hear a shuddering howl as he paints your lower back with his cum, effectively marking you as his. You sob even harder with the realization you had not even been thinking about protection in the last week, and now you fear that there will be another cord that will forever tie you to him. 

If he sees your tears he ignores them and places a kiss on your cheek before sitting you down in front of the mirror. He lets you know that he has a press conference soon, but that he will meet you back home for the afterparty. He quickly dresses himself while you use a tissue to fix your makeup and try to make the wrinkles in your dress less noticeable. Once outside the door he hands you off to one of his men with orders to take you back to Graceland.

It is only as you’re pulling up to Graceland do you realize you gave no resistance whatsoever to his whims and didn’t even try to insist you go back to your own apartment. You pay no thought to that as you see there are already many of his people there to celebrate his astonishing performance, and the last thing you need is to draw more attention to yourself by being the one woman having a breakdown at the party. 

So you slip back into your role as his girl, though can you even say that it is simply a role anymore when you fully agreed to it. 

Eventually he arrives home and is met with all the praise and glory he has earned tonight. Yet he barely looks at anyone before he seemingly sweeps the room to zero in on you. He grins and approaches you to sweep you into a hungry kiss which is met with various wolf whistles and cheers from those around you. You are still playing your part for the audience you tell yourself. 

The rest of the night is spent on his arm essentially advertising to all attendants that you're his. Eventually he announces to no one in particular that he is starting to feel tired, and it feels like only moments later when a mass exodus occurs, no one daring to stay past their welcome. The grip he has on your waist though tells you that he has no plans of letting you go.

That night and the following day in Graceland you spend in a daze of fucking and resting and even more fucking, interspersed with conversation between the both of you. Surprisingly you find yourself opening up to him as well, and with the conversations being not so focused on him, it’s easy to pretend that this is even remotely natural. 

You do make a few attempts to leave that day, each time met with some pushback on his part to get you to stay. Each attempt is met with some excuse on his part be it being too early, his fans outside the gates, his exhausted state etc., and immediately following your concession, you are bombarded with physical affection and compliments as to how understanding and what a good you are for him. You allow yourself to indulge in this fantasy for a little while longer, and stay another night with him.

The next morning, reality sets back in, and there is no denying your active part in this anymore. He kisses you good morning and he reminds you that you have work today. You’re amazed that he hasn’t already made you cancel all of your appointments today, until you remember who you have your final session with later. You shower and use his toothbrush, no longer hesitating to do something you would previously labeled as far too intimate to do with anyone, let alone a patient.

You are however disturbed but not surprised when you exit the restroom and find a full outfit ready for you. This one is more in line with your regular work attire but the blouse does have a rather loud pattern, a far cry from your admittedly limited, colorwise, wardrobe. Without the tags, you briefly wonder if this is something left behind by the previous stand-ins or if he bought it for one of them to better pretend they were you. You push that thought aside as you finish getting ready for the day. Being early on a Monday morning you are able to be driven to your office without the worry of any ogling eyes. He even gives you a parting kiss at the door and it feels far more domestic than it has any right to be.

You would deem that day almost normal. You are of course exhausted from the strange weekend you had, but somehow you also feel unfettered when compared to the stressful week you had previously. You receive some compliments on your blouse, and you are able to, through tightlips, confirm yes when someone asks if you got it from someone special. 

Other than that you are able to get back to your standard attentive self for your patients. Having worked with Elvis for nearing a year at this point, has had the unexpected benefit of making your other patients seem easier in comparison. You laugh at their funny stories, you dole out advice and insights when asked, and you comfort them when needed. These moments in between your nearly all encompassing thoughts around Elvis, you find, are a welcome respite from the looming black cloud that is your future as a therapist. 

Eventually though 4:30 PM arrives and you hear a knock at the door.

#my fic #elvis x reader #yandere!elvis x reader #yandere x reader #for once #elvis #elvis 2022 #austin!elvis #yandere #yandere!austin!elvis

[the-lavender-creator]

OKAY! I’m sleepy and tried as fuck, it’s 1 am and I feel like I’m about to slip off into the best damn sleep ever. But for some damn reason I decided NOW was the very best time for me to come and rant my heart out about your fic.

forgive me. This might be long.

AGGHHHDBDUSBSJAHIH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHHHHH-

Sorry. Had to get that out of me. It’s my knee jerk reaction to before, during, and after reading you fic.

now onto the- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

oh! Guess I had a little more in me! Ok now I seem- AGHHHH- to be- AGHHU- a little - Hxjdsisjsi- better???

BUT GOSH ALL THE THUNDER ANGST IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVED IT AND MY POOR LITTLE PATHETIC WET CAT LITERALLY

ok on to the specifics!!

first of all. I like how you make this a whole ass overall arc about Clawdeen and Toralei getting together, Toralei dealing with her plan and her feelings. And also hee super horrible mom RATerina! While also sprinkling in some absolutely god damn DELECTABLE thunder angst scenes. Oh I ate those up so ravishingly. They were so nice and angst and the most tasty words alive!

But yeah. The opening contrast of how Lighting is a norm to Monsters. And lots of times needed and wanted, compared to Thunder. Which is something Toralei fears more than anything. It’s just such a nice highlight. Cause really. Just like Cleo had her fear of the dark. It’s an unusual fear for monsters. These are stuff Humans are afraid of. And that’s probably something that gets under Toralei’s skin as well. Because Monsters don’t fear the dark or storms. They thrive in it. So when she, a definite monster, has this fear of a species she’s been trained to despise, it’s probably just this extra level of overwhelming humiliation and shame. And it really sets the tone nicely opening up!

I loved the first flashback, how it really shows the early signs of brainwashing and toxic ideologies her Mom had ingrained into her. Toralei loves power and thrives on it. It’s an unknowing coping mechanism. But at a young age she isn’t shown that it’s okay not to be in charge, and that others can be royalty too. Thag others can be in charge as well. That she’s not better than others. She was never taught that and it’s sad to read it through a child’s eyes.

and It’s so weird to see the dynamic Toralei and Lagooona have. Not friends. And more like. Hostages. Lagoona is somewhat of a hostage in her own room. Having her most personal thing used against her- where have we seen this before OH YEAH! FROM Raterina!!!

to think Toralei has inherited some of her mothers abusive traits is terrifying. For she truly is just an abused little girl who never got the love she deserved.

And oh. Oh my dear little heart. How it shriveled at reading the part where her mom yells and rants at her for hours until she is sobbing and crying hysterically for hours on end. My poor sweet girl who just wanted a hug got nothing but hate instead.

and OH. my head as poor little Toralei who wanted to be all grown up. Left alone in the house and realizing she left her guitar outside. Poor little kitten clinging to a branch and crying for all she’s worth as she thinks she’s gonna die. And what’s worse is she’d rather risk that imminent death and fear instead of going inside and risking her mothers wrath. god that sounds like a trauma inducing fear if I’d heard of any.

Ooooo the first Clawdeen and Toralei scene. Very interesting. Tantalizing. Fun how Toralei finds her adorable but excuses it like everyone does. It’s odd to see her try and manipulate her. But also it’s just. So easy to see at the same time. Hee wirh her British accent and feline smirk. Sharp claws and predatory eyes. So complex

Damn Raterina really was pulling the strings to Toraleis entire childhood. It’s gross in a way. Like she’s nothing but a puppet to her. A plaything she can control what happens too.

Also odd. Toralei says she doesn’t actually have anything against Lagoona. But it’s rather the fate of species. Is this something her mother has said? Or something that people assume from her that she eventually went ‘Oh, uh. Guess I have to hate her then?’ Too.

OH MY BABY. MY SWEET SWEET GIRL. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DONT CRY AND SHUFFER AND FUEBUFSNAIFHSUS (I love it. Hurt me more!)

Lol. Not her having a journal that said ‘diary’ in giant fancy letters that she can’t find a way to cover up. That’s such a mood. Why do companies even put diary on the front. It’s obviously embarrassing.

still rolling in my bed over the thunder angst. Poor kitty huddled up in a ball and crying and shaking and-

ok. I’m really trying not to loose myself in the angst here!

”that’s insensitive to mer-folk”

ok BESTIE THAT WAS ACTUALLY SO FUCKING FUNNY. idk y but I found that so hilarious.

Toralei giving draculaura a compliment then immediately insulting her lack of appreciation for the compliment is such a mood and a her thing idk what to do.

LOL ‘how to lure in a wolf and date her’. Throw the saddest fucking party in existence and fully lean into how much of a pathetic wet cat I am, and desperately try to ignore how deeply this all plays into my everlasting trauma from my mother!!!!

No but Raterina never celebrating Toraleis birthday 😩

Toralei the DRAMA. the one woman act. Turning up the pathetic wet cat levels to extreme today.

Aww little Frankie just wants to help but was definitely shoved into high school way before they were ready and honestly that’s so much trauma in itself cause they’re parents literally created them and the first thing they do is send them away to literally live out their life. Like- um. WHAT. The abandonment and rejection they must subtly feel. Like. Wow.

uh anyway this is about toralei.

Toralei. The drama. Who decides to have along ass gay fake romance with Clawdeen to get the necklace instead of just snatching it from her while she sleeps is such a gay mood I can’t.

it’s like ‘On one hand. I could sneak into her room and jsur steal it away? I’m a werecat I’m agile and silent! No one would hear or see me. It’s foolproof. And I have the necklace to give to my mom and win her love!….. OR I COULD DATE CLAWDEEN AND HAVE A SLOWBURN GAY ROMANCE AND BE GAY AND POSTPONE THE MISSION AND MAKE IT TAKE AS LONG AS FUCKING POSSIBLE!

oooo I’ll go with the second one! Definitely a smart decision!

AND NO POOR BABY NOT MORE PAIN AND ANGST AND YES I FUCKING LOVE IT ITS SO DELICIOUS AND JUICY AND RAW AND ANGSTY AND FONDUFNSUD CLAWDEEN IMMEDIATELY HUGGING HER AND TELLING HER ITS GONNA BE OK AND MY HEART IS BLEEDING EVERYWHERE

NO MORE TRAUMA WITH RATERINA. RHAT BITCH.

KSKSKDKS OOOOOO TORALEI YOU GAYYYY. WE ALL SEEEE ITT.

the vulnerability of fears 🥹. The little heart to heart is so precious. The exact moment toralei kinda screws up her plan by falling in love with Clawdeen

DAMN MEOWLODY AND PURRSEPHONY SO SUPPORTIVE AND MEAN AND BRUTAL AT RHE SAME TIME. like on one hand they’re being good people. But on the other GUYS TORALEI IS JUST A BAY GAY. A PATHETIC WET CAT. SHE DOESTN KNOW ANY BETTER BE KIND TO HER.

THE CONFESSION. BE STILL MY HEART.

AND YEAH THEIR ALL GAY AND HAPPY AND-

OH FUCK HERE COMES RATERINA. TIME FOR MORE AMAZING ANGST

NOOO NOT TORALEI IMMEDIATELY SHIFTING TO THE MEAN COLD TRAUMA PERSONA SHES BESN FORCED TO BE BY HER SUPER MEAN MOTHER.

oh man how angry I felt when Raterina greeted her by roughly grabbing her chin and telling her she looked like shit basically. Like THE ANGER

nooo more trauma. Her mom sucks ass.

Aw Toralei just wants to protect Clawdeen .

NO. NOT A THUNDERSTORM. NOT AT THE WORST POSSIBLE TIMING SHOWINB THE MOST HUMILIATING VULNERABILITY IN FRONT OF SOMEONE WHO WILL EXPLOIT IT MERCILESSLY AND MAKE THEM FEEL PATHETIC ABOUT IT! (Not me reacting as if I didn’t prompt that exact thing)

NOOOOO SHUT UP RATERINA.

YEAH GET OVER THEIR AND DEFEND YOUR GIRLFRIEND

SOMEONE GIVE TORALEI A FUCKING HUG

WHOOOOO LETS GO DRACULAURA.

LETS GO BLOODGOOD. SLAY BITCH

YES KICK HER ASS OUT!

Love how Frankie and Draculaura know to leave them alone. Almost as if they know Toralei showing this much vulnerability must already be mortifying for her. Especially with her mom calling her pathetic for it.

HDBSUDNS CLAWDEEN BEING SO SWEET AND TORALEI ADMITTING HER ORIGINAL INTENTIONS THROUGH THE TEARS AND FEAR. THIS WAS ACTUALLY SUCH AN EMOTIONAL RAW SCENE AND PROBABLY MY FAVORITE ONE BESIDES THE RATERINA THUNFER CONFRONTATION.

legitimately I love how she admits it. Cause she doesn’t want to keep anything away from her now. Cause she loves her so much and she’s getting love and comfort she’s so unfamiliar with and her mom truly just sucks ass and gosh. And how Clawdeen knew but had so much faith in her. Probably the first one to every trust and have faith in her. Loving her nevertheless. Finding the good in her.

YES. THEM ENDING WITH SNUGGLES AND COMFORT THROUGH THE STORM. THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING!

I LOVED THIS SO MUCH LAVANDER. THANK YIU SO GOD DAMN MCUH FOR WRITING THIS THIS IS TRULY A WORK OF ART. THIS REVIEW LITERALLY TOOK ME AN HOUR IT IS NOW TWO AM IM TIRED AS SHIT. BUT I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS. IM SO SORRY ITS SO LONG!

NUHBGYVFT AND THE WINNER FOR THE LONGEST NON-BEE MOVIE ASK EVER SENT GOES TO-

But also. AHhhhhhh thank you so much this is like legit my favorite ask ever, I love when people give me their scene-by-scene thoughts on my fics, tysm <3

For anyone who hasn't read it, the fic in question is There's Always a Storm!

#and I finally fixed the opening note on it wooo #mr-walkingrainbow #toradeen #toralei stripe #g3 toralei #clawdeen x toralei #clawdeen wolf #g3 clawdeen #toralei fanfic #mh toralei #monster high toralei #toralei x clawdeen #idk any more tags but yk

[elfwreck]

Honestly the only things I’d change about AO3 would just be a better block feature —- good for filtering out authors who write fics with a million tags you don’t care about but end up cluttering the search screen—-as well as good for “this author has fetishistic/demeaning writing qualities I find untasteful if not offensive” as well as a flagging(?)/“user recommended tags” feature that could be turned on or off by the reader. Tags should ultimately be the decision of the writer—-sometimes some things deserve to be kept private/as twists, sometimes the author favors the aesthetics of a shorter (but accurate) tag list—-but readers should still be allowed to determine if they want to risk reading something where they don’t know “if the dog dies”.

That way it would also be harder for trolls to spam LGBT/POC content because readers would always have the original tags to fall back on as well as the ability to turn off user suggested tags from their view. Most people favor fanfiction about characters and fandoms they know well so a “anti white” or “groomer” tag suggestion on something like a M “Our flag means death” or G “Steven universe” fanfiction looks fake from a million miles away , but a “car crash tw” suggestion would obviously be a more useful or “real” suggestion since “car crash tw” is easily something an author could overlook including and isn’t a tag that too many people would try to avoid (many might find it useful in helping them avoid their triggers but it’s also not going to yank an author or their fic so it would be a weird/bad way to try and troll someone with)

Also maybe an account-wide tag block? So you don’t have to fill out the “tags to exclude” for triggering content every single time.

They're working on better block & mute features. There are some workarounds right now with custom site skins:

Right now, if users want to suggest tags, they can make bookmarks, and they can make a collection to put those bookmarks in. Unfortunately, collections are clunky and bookmark features are limited - they'd need to promote the collection offsite. But they could go through their fandom of choice, bookmark everything and attach the appropriate tags to the bookmarks if they're not in the original.

There is never going to be a "suggest these tags to the author/other readers" feature more direct than that, because there is no way that doesn't turn into a mud-slinging toxic wankfest. People who are worried about "does the dog die?" will need to ask friends to check the works in advance, or talk with the author if they have a public presence somewhere. (Some authors won't answer anyway.)

The problems are not people adding "racist fic" or "groomer Rose Quartz" to fanfics. (I mean, those are potential problems, but those are not the real problem.) The real problem is: Someone decides X author is a Bad Person, and tags all of their works with pedophile, nazi, child abuser, rapist, illiterate grade-school dropout, ugly and fat, only sluts read this, and a swarm of other slurs based on whatever's trendy to hate this year.

The first thing to consider with any new potential feature is: How could someone with absolutely no goodwill use this to try to hurt people?

And what measures would need to be taken to mitigate that?

Right now, someone could add all of that to bookmarks. But bookmarks don't show up on a toggle-switch next to the work's author-made tags. You have to look for them. If they got really bad, the Abuse Team might force the bookmarks to be set to Private (I have no idea if they can do that); they don't have to remove them or argue about the accuracy of the tags in order to keep them from harassing the author or other readers.

A whole new category of tags, visible at the top of the work, would be a new special nightmare.

...But they're working on better block features, and mute features, and I'm hoping there'll someday be "save my search settings" so I don't have to keep excluding A/B/O fics every time I go looking for a new pairing.

#otw #ao3 #ao3 tagging

[thunderpot]

#svsss #mobei jun #shang qinghua #moshang #I was not going to color this so soon cause it was a sketch I did recently just to vent moshang[TM] #BUT #I read a fic so absolutely abusive and toxic I decided to make my own wholesome moshang to cleanse myself #it wasn't even tagged as such the author just really thought gratuitous abuse was romantic #so I did this one quickly at uh #2am #still looks passable now that I'm a proper human being [awake] again #so there you have it #a rant-art lmao #srsly ppl it's 2021 #jfc #anyway #happy early valentines? #there will be some hualian and IY both on the 14th <3

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! A new month - so new fics for you to find and enjoy! I can’t say it enough: all the authors in this fandom are truly amazing! Thank you so much for continuously sharing your hard work with us ♥ Here are the 14 fics I read and enjoyed this month:

A Hungry Heart | jacaranda_bloom | Great British Bake Off AU - famous/not famous - cliches - pining - angst - smut - 27k Harry Styles, florist and Great British Bake Off contestant, loves many things. He loves his flower shop, he loves baking, and there’s also that little crush he has on pop star Louis Tomlinson. But when Louis arrives on set as the surprise guest judge, Harry’s worlds collide. Throw in a cup of cuteness, a teaspoon of teasing, and a pinch of pining, and there’s all the ingredients for an epic love story, or absolute chaos. Or the one where the Bake Off tent has never been so hot, and it’s got nothing to do with what’s in the ovens.

Teenage Rebellion Never Worked Out So Well | panda_bear21 | arranged marriage - friends to lovers - 55k “I’m an adult!” He glanced down at Harry, who seemed anything but at the moment, where he was definitely on the brink of a temper tantrum. “We’re both adults!” Jay glanced to Anne again, before breathing out a heavy sigh. “Yes, but you’re both adults that do not have jobs and who live off of our money… Which means, you have to do what we say… or you’ll have to find a new place to live.” “You wouldn’t do that.” Louis dared, hoping his glare was enough to guilt trip his mother into calling the whole thing off. Or to tell them that it had all just been a huge joke and they weren’t actually being forced into marrying a complete stranger. “Oh, but we would.” Or the super cliché arranged marriage fic where things escalate way too quickly.

Heartbreak Hotel | noellehenry | time travel - 1950s - historical - pining - 29k British popstar Harry Styles is thrown back in time after an unfortunate accident on stage. He wakes up in a small town in the US in the 1950's, where life is slightly different from 2015. With help from Niall and Liam he tries to adjust to his new life; without mobile phones and a world wide web to keep up with the world and where showing interest in nice cute boys with bright blue eyes is a no-no. Time travel and 1950's AU where Liam is an English teacher, Niall owns the Best Song Ever record shop, James runs Corden's Diner, Elvis fan Louis is the cute boy with the blue eyes and Harry..... just tries to survive really.

Playdate | Larry_you_know | getting together - misunderstandings - kid fic - fluff - 7k When Harry’s sister asked him to pick up her son at a kids' birthday party he sure didn’t expect to be stunned by the blue-eyed brother of the birthday twins. Using his nephew to see Louis again, he falls hard and fast. But how does one turn a playdate into a real date?

tread lightly on my ground | fairytalelights | a/b/o - mpreg - touch-starved - miscommunication - friends to lovers - touch deprivation - smut - 21k No, that's the tragic part of this, the part that makes Harry feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. The father of his baby is exactly right, exactly who he always imagined himself having kids with. He just imagined them married, bonded. Happy. He didn't imagine them barely talking, tip-toeing around each other because neither of them is brave enough to talk about what happened between them. He didn't imagine the father of his child not loving him back. or, the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.

Not Ready for This | berzerkshires | kid fic - single parents - smut - 18k Prompt for HLSummerFest2021: Louis and Harry are both single fathers and their children decide to go out on a date. The dads insist on meeting one another before they agree to let their child go out on this date.

Secret's Safe With Me | alltheselights | boss/employee relationship - secret relationship - toxic relationship (not h/l) - slow burn - smut - 59k But here’s the thing about secrets that people tend to forget—they’re deeply personal things. Tiny pieces of information about someone that they keep locked inside and only let out at certain moments, or to certain people, or not at all. Secrets have value, you see, even if only to the person holding them inside. If those secrets were to be told, if those tiny jagged pieces of someone, the parts they hold most dear, the parts they hide out of shame or fear or regret—if those pieces were exposed to someone, it would have the potential to change everything. When bad turbulence and three glasses of wine have Louis spilling all of his secrets to the man sitting next to him on the plane, it's embarrassing, sure, but it's also easy enough to shrug off and block out of his memory forever. Or at least, it was until Louis went into work on Monday morning and realized that the man from the plane is the new CEO of his company.

Marks On My Baby | thinlines | a/b/o - college/university - friends to lovers - hurt/comfort - angst - fluff - smut - 32k “What’s that?” Harry hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so sharp and even he winced at his own outburst. It was more of a hiss than an actual question, but for now, he was too surprised to care. “What’s what?” The omega asked, eyebrows raised and lips pinched. Harry knew he was probably mad at him for interrupting his rant, but the alpha was too on edge to bother pleasing the boy. “On your neck… Your bondmark spot…” His voice had grown low and deep, almost a growl. Who knew a single love bite on his omega friend's neck would trigger Harry this much? Certainly not the alpha himself.

Rogue | Laventriloque | a/b/o - werewolves - minor character death - hurt/comfort - past abuse - past rape/non-con - soulmates - smut - 95k “No, Liam! How many times do I have to… before you finally… NO WAY … a rogue in our pack?… cannot trust him … don’t care to know him … have enough members to worry about.” He hears more indistinct shouts before he hears pretty clearly: “His own pack didn’t want him!” Sitting here, his precious bag between his feet and everyone in the room looking at him, some with pity, some with disdain, some with curiosity, Louis feels like someone squeezed his heart in their hands and isn’t letting it go. He wills his head to stay up high and his posture to stay confident. He will not flee the room. He will not let that stupid lump in his throat get the better of him. He will stay here until Liam returns. He will take the rejection in stride and move on. Like he’s been doing all his life." -- Louis is a rogue Omega who's suffered through rejection and abuse for the biggest part of his life. He stumbles onto the Styles pack, quite possibly the kindest one he's ever met.

indian summer | docklands | strangers to lovers - hurt/comfort - banter - smut - 30k Harry runs a smoothie shop, which also happens to be an ever-moving caravan. He spends one week in each location and drives straight to the next, always eager for adventure. It isn't until his van breaks down and he needs to call for a mechanic that he starts to ponder his life choices. Louis, the said mechanic, is an anchor in Harry's wild sea, but his hard metal might be too much for Harry's unpredictable antics.

A Silver Lining In A Storm (You Were Lightning, I Was Born) | FallingLikeThis | arranged marriage - royalty - a/b/o - mpreg - minor character death - murder - non-graphic violence - angst - hurt/comfort - 7k Omega Prince Harry had always known that he was going to have an arranged marriage. But after the death of his first fiancé, a man who turned out far worse than Harry thought possible, his subsequent marriage to the man's brother leaves Harry finding it difficult to trust that everything will work out. Especially considering the only responsibility he’s aware of is to give his husband, the future king, an heir.

A Twist of Fate | myfearlesslou | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - soulmates - angst - 35k Since the moment Harry presented as an omega, all he's ever wanted was to have a baby. Fate had another idea in mind for him. Giving up on trying to conceive, he decides to adopt a new born baby boy. After months of loving and caring for the boy, a strange man comes into his life, taking him by surprise. Not wanting to lose the child he's loved from the moment he laid eyes on him, Harry does whatever he can to keep the boy safe and in his arms. Even if that means following the handsome stranger to a part of the woods he's never seen before.

Trust Me Tonight | 28sunflowers | historical - royalty - regency - arranged marriage - first time - mpreg - pwp - 10k After Harry’s eighteenth birthday, his father calls him into a meeting to say that he is to be married to Prince Louis of France in just over a week. Harry is excited, of course. The arrangement is better than any he could’ve hoped for, with such a young, handsome and kind husband. There is just one issue: Harry doesn’t know what happens on his nuptials, or how to get pregnant to give Louis the heir that he needs.

i got a heart (but i don't got a soul) | tempolarriefics | mythical beings Á creatures - enemies to lovers - childhood friends - famous/not famous - soulmates - angel/demon relationship - demon/human relationship - 19k “We’re soulmates.” Louis’ eyes flick from the tattoo back to Harry’s face, where his eyes are shining with excitement. Louis wonders if he is supposed to feel excited, too. He’s supposed to feel something, surely, besides his usual bitterness for Harry. He thinks back to how Lottie had described meeting Sam, how she had known in her heart that he was meant for her even before he said his phrase. He can’t help but wonder if he would be feeling differently if he hadn’t gone and sold his soul. Or, the one where louis sells his soul before meeting his soulmate, harry is a popstar with a heart of gold, niall is inadvertently responsible for harry's boners, liam is a meddling angel, and zayn is a demon who made a mistake

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #my reads #monthly fic rec #monthly reads #larry fics #completed fics

[dirtyoatmeall]

All it takes is one moment (Atsumu x reader)

A/N: uhhh sorry for dropping off the face of the earth!! I have a million WIPs I’ll hopefully be posting here shortly! I was reading a bunch of cheesy hurt/comfort fics last night and decided to make my own hehe, tbh it got me thinking of doing another one but no comfort and it turning into a slow burn with another character :0 Please read the warnings, this is Post-Timeskip, so spoilers for occupations. Everyone is probably like 25ish here? Also I apologize in advance for their accents, I tried in a few spots, I’m still getting used to it. (also @spiritofthescarletwoods I know you wanted to be tagged in the midoriya angst I promised a million years ago, but here’s some tsumu angst for now!)

Genre: Hurt/comfort or Angst with a happy ending

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader (uhmm pronouns I believe are gn but I do not proof read as we all know)

Word Count: 4.?k

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationships, insinuation of cheating, slight misogynistic vibes for a moment, crude language, Atsumu is mean :( (Probably OOC Osamu and Atsumu), Post-time skip ((Let me know if I need to add something!)

_

You and Atsumu have been together for about 3 years now, and it was great. The two of you were very much in love, supported each other, and rarely fought, as you tried to be as open and communicate as much as possible. The last relationship you were in was toxic and abusive, it took a long time for you to be yourself again, and Atsumu had supported you along the way, he knew what had happened, and he swore to never make you feel like that again. And he stuck by that, until today.

Even though you rarely fought, when you did, it was resolved quickly, but this time was not the same. It had started off small. You had an important event coming up for work, you would be presenting on your year long research project, having made big findings in your field work. It was a huge deal for you, but when you brought it up at dinner, Atsumu did not have the same opinion.

“What do you mean you can’t make it? Everything I’ve been working on had led up to this, this is a career changing presentation, and you don’t want to go?” Hurt was clearly evident in your voice, as was frustration. Atsumu sighed, he’d had a horrible week, there was a big game coming up with the Adler’s and he needed to be prepared. “Like I said, I have practice that night, You can tell me all about it when you get home. I don’t see why you’re making a big fuss ‘bout it, ‘s just a presentation babe.” You furrowed your eyebrows looking at him incredulously.

“Did you not listen to anything I just said? It’s not just a presentation, this is my career Atsumu. I consistently put my own work aside to support you, why can’t you do the same for me? It’s not like I’m asking you to miss a game, it’s a practice.”  You could tell he was getting frustrated, but so were you, you made it a point to make every single game of his, missing out on work opportunities to come support him, him refusing to come to something so important was hurtful, and made you feel like you were less important than him, but before you could voice your feelings Atsumu spoke.

“This isn’t jus’ any practice. We have a big game comin’ up, it's important I’m there, ‘m the setter. Let's be real here, we both know which of us is the bread-maker in this household. This is basically a little hobby of yours, you can come back to it at any time. I’m a professional athlete hun, there’s only so much time I have before retirement.” He spoke in a condescending manner that baffled you. He’s never spoken to you like that before, is that how he really felt about your work? You scoffed, rising from the dinner table.

“Are you fucking kidding me, do you know condescending and frankly, misogynistic that was?” He sighed and rolled his eyes as he followed you with his plate, dinner half eaten and cold much like yours. “Here you go again” He muttered, though loud enough for you to hear. You dropped your plate in the sink and you looked at him, eyes wide, and furious.

“What did you just say to me? Here I go again? What the fuck does that mean Atsumu?” He set his plate on the counter, looking at you from across the island as he gripped the countertop. “What I mean is that yer always playing the victim, we get it, you last relationship was shitty, but that doesn’t mean you have to act like this all the time, I thought you got over it?”

You balked at him, was he serious right now? “Oh my god really? Are you seriously asking me if I got over an abusive relationship, after everything I’ve told you about it? After everything I had to do to get where I am now? We are supposed to support each other, I didn’t realize it was one sided.” Atsumu sighed, growing more frustrated, he tried to interrupt you, but you kept going, 

“All I wanted was for you to come to one dinner, after the years we’ve been together I haven’t asked you to miss any games or practices for my work, you know my coworkers have asked if I’m single? They didn’t believe me when I told them I was in a relationship, and you know what? I don’t blame them, I wouldn’t believe me either, since they’ve never seen you, and I take all this time off to travel and support you, all of your team know who I am, why is it so hard for you to do the same?”

As you kept going, his anger only grew, he tried interrupting you again, but it was like you weren’t paying attention to him, just spouting off whatever came to your head, and he was tired of it. 

He slammed his hand on the counter, the sound reverberating throughout the apartment. You flinched, hard, but Atsumu didn’t seem to notice. “Can you just shut up for one moment? God, all you do is go on and on nagging on how what I do isn’t enough, I pay the bills here, why isn’t that enough for you? I could care less about what’s going on at your job, I have absolutely no interest in it at all, when will you get that through your fucking skull? I. don’t. care.” By the time he was done his knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the counter, and you had tears in your eyes. You sucked in a breath, steeling yourself.

“Ok, I’m going to remove myself from the situation, I’ll be at your brothers, you can come get me when you pull your head out of your ass.” He rolled his eyes as you strode past him, getting your purse from the hook and going to slip on your shoes. “Yeah go ahead, you gonna wet his dick for ‘im too? ‘m sure he’ll love that.” You stiffened for a moment, putting your shoes on before looking at him, tears making your vision blurry.

“Y’know I tell myself that this isn’t like last time, that you’re not him, but at times like this-“ Your voice cracked as a sob bubbled into your throat and you shook your head, turning and heading out the door. Atsumu flinched at your words and the soft click of the door latching, he would’ve preferred to hear it slam.

Your walk to the elevator was blurry but you knew the way by heart after living there for so long. You wiped at your eyes as you pulled out your phone, tapping on the contact before bringing the phone to your ear. It rang once before it picked up, a tired “hello?” coming from the other end. You let out a quiet sob as you loaded the elevator, trying to get the words to come out. Upon hearing you, Osamu spoke again, “(Y/N)? Are you crying? What’s wrong.” You cleared your throat and took a deep breath before speaking, your voice tight. “Hey ‘samu, can, can I come to your place? ‘tsumu and I- we-'' you broke out into another sob, and you could hear Osamu close a door.

“Where are you? I’ll pick you up, I’m just leaving the restaurant I’m close.” After telling him where you were, you stayed on the phone, walking in the direction of the restaurant. Not long you see Osamu’s car pull up, he quickly gets out and looks you over and sighed as he brings you in for a hug. You sob into his jacket for a moment while he rubbed your back gently. He knew about your past as well, and figured it must have been bad for you to leave in tears. He leads you to the car and makes sure you’re strapped in before heading to the drivers side and getting in, double checking your seatbelt before driving towards his apartment.

The drive was short, though to you it felt like it lasted hours. You tried to quiet your sobs, not wanting to bother him. He looked over at you every so often, worry evident in his gaze as he tried to figure out just what his stupid brother did.

After arriving at his apartment, he sat you down on the couch, wrapping a blanket around you and giving you a box of tissues before sitting next to you, gently asking what happened. You try not to cry as you retell the events of the evening, though it got harder and harder as you told him what Atsumu said to you. By the time you were finished you were crying again, and Osamu was furious.

“I-I just don’t understand ‘samu, the things he said, did he really m-mean them? And-and when he slammed his hand on the counter, the look on his face, it, it was like I was back there all over again, like I never left. I-I know he’d never hurt me,” You sobbed out, throat getting tighter as you go on, “But at that moment, all I could think was that he was gonna hit me, and I, I had to leave, and what he said before I left,” You hiccupped and cried into your hands, not able to finish.

Osamu rubbed your back as you cried before getting up to make some tea. While the water was boiling he went into the other room, trying to calm himself down before calling his brother. The line rang three times before it was picked up, a frustrated “what do you want?” coming from the other end. It was enough to dwindle Osamu’s patience into nothing. He tried to keep his voice down, not wanting to distress you further.

“What do I want? Do you know how badly you fucked up? (Y/N) is here crying on my couch right now, do you know what she told me ‘tsumu? She told me she thought you were going to hit her. Are you fucking kidding me? Did you even think before you spoke, because from what she told me, it sounds like you didn’t. How dumb are you, after everything she’s gone through, the first big fight you have you send her running? Over a dinner? Really Atsumu?”

Atsumu groaned on the other line, “Exactly ‘samu, it’s a dinner, I have practice for the game against the Adler’s you know how big that is. She’ll have plenty of dinners for me to go to in the future. I don’t see why she got so upset over it. And she knows I didn’t mean the things I said, I was just frustrated.”

Osamu scoffed into the phone, “Did you even hear what I said, are you hearing yourself? She is the best thing that has happened to you, the least you could do is support her, this is a big deal for her Atsumu, even I know that. Honestly I don’t know why she is still with you after the shit you just pulled, did you hear me? She was scared of you, y’know like that last relationship she had? Where she was sent to the hospital multiple times, she thought she was right back there, that you were just like him. Do you know how bad you have to fuck up for that to happen, after all the counseling she’s done? You know how much trust you just broke? I wouldn’t be surprised if she never wanted to hear from you again, and I’d agree with her. God I have half a mind to tell Ma what you did, You need to sit and stew on what you just lost. And I mean it, I don’t want to see you here tonight, she needs a safe space right now. I’ll let her stay for as long as she wants, but I’m not gonna stop her if she leaves so you better get your fucking head on straight and get on your knees begging for forgiveness you don’t deserve.”

With that Osamu hung up the phone, exhaling as he pinched the bridge of his nose, was his brother really that stupid? He shook his head and headed out of his room, only to open the door to see you standing there, eyes holding an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “Is he coming?” Osamu sighed and led you back to the couch before finishing the tea he forgot about. He placed your cup on the end table next to you and took a seat with his own. “No, I told him to stay at your guy’s tonight. You need a safe space right now to calm down and sort your thoughts. You can stay here as long as you’d like, but I don’t want you to feel trapped, you can leave whenever, if you want to go to your folk’s, hell even our Ma’s place, I’ll drive you there. You just need to focus on you right now ya hear me? And if you don’t ever wanna see my ugly brother again, I’ll help you get a new identity.” You giggled slightly at the last part before you took a sip of your tea, shoulders relaxing. You turned to Osamu and smiled.

“Thank you ‘samu, I really appreciate it. I’m a little more calm right now, I think I’ll go home tomorrow, apologize and get us back on track.” You did a little nod as you said it, but Osamu just furrowed his eyebrows. “Apologize? There is nothing you need to apologize for doll, You were completely justified in your frustration, Atsumu is the one who needs to apologize, not you. Don’t settle just so things will go back to normal, because they won’t.” You sighed sadly, he was right and you knew it. You were falling back to old coping tactics. Your therapist would not be happy with you right now.

“Sorry, you’re right. I’m still gonna go back, hopefully after we’ve both had some sleep we can work it out.” You smiled again, feeling more like yourself. Osamu nodded in agreement and helped you set up in the guest bedroom before turning in. You sighed as you laid in the bed, not used to sleeping by yourself, but the events from the night took its toll, and it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

Back in your apartment, Atsumu was having the opposite problem. He laid in your shared bed, staring at the ceiling, did you actually think he was going to hit you, that he meant the things he said? To him, it didn’t seem like a big deal, he was loud when he was angry, and sometimes said things he didn’t mean, which should be obvious, since you knew how much he loved you…right? He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, looking up the museum you worked at. Honestly he wasn’t really paying attention when you told him about the event, he knew it had something to do with your research, which he knew a little about from the nights you’d info dump your findings to him. His eyes widened when he looked at the upcoming events, when he clicked on the date it was scheduled for he winced.

It really was a big deal, curators from all over the country were coming to hear you give a presentation on your recent fieldwork findings, you’d been at this site for the majority, if not all, of your relationship only now having a big discovery others spent their entire lives chasing. There were going to be donors, curators, archaeologists and other anthropologists from all over Japan and other countries as well. You were right, this was a career changer, no, this was a life changing presentation.

Guilt started to seep into his bones as he thought again about what he had said, how he had brushed you off and then got mad at you for voicing your feelings, something that took months for you to be able to do with him. He thought back to when he slammed his hand on the table, the way you flinched, the look in your eyes right before you left. His stomach felt like it dropped out of his body, chest constricting as the guilt flooded him as he kept thinking back to every expression you made, how you were crying when you left, that you were scared of him. He pushed his palms against his eyes as he groaned, how could he be so horrible to you? Osamu was right, about everything. You were the best thing that’s happened to him, and he broke your trust, trust that took so long to build, over missing a practice. He rolled onto his side, pulling one of your pillows against his chest. He inhaled, the scent of your conditioner still lingering, as he tried to think of how he could possibly make it right.

```

The next morning, after a relaxing shower and breakfast, you were ready. Osamu grabbed his keys, ready to drive you back, when there was a knock at the door. You had a feeling on who it was, so you set down your purse and went to sit on the couch, taking a deep breath. After a few moments Osamu came to the doorway, followed by Atsumu, who stood awkwardly for a moment before Osamu spoke to you.

“I need to be at the restaurant, there’s a key on the counter, if you could lock up if you leave that’d be great. Call me if you need anything.” He turned and left, and when you heard the door close you finally met Atsumu’s gaze, smiling slightly in greeting. Neither of you were sure what to say, but after a minute of silence he comes over and sits on the other end of the couch, obviously trying to gauge your reaction to his proximity.

You sighed through your nose, gaze turned to the floor as you fiddled with your hands, trying to sort out your thoughts. You wanted to just apologize and move on, but you knew you had to talk it out, this wasn’t something you could just pretend didn’t happen. You needed to work through this if you wanted this to work. You bit your lip, thoughts running a mile a minute. You were so deep in thought you didn’t realize Atsumu had moved until you felt his hand rest on your forearm. You jumped slightly, startled at the sudden touch and when you looked at Atsumu, who had moved to the place next to you and hovered his hand over you before bringing it back to his lap, guilt evident in his features, eyes raw with emotion.

“(Y/N), I don’t even know where to begin, I fucked everything up and I am so sorry. Sorry for not listening, for brushing you and your achievements off, for making you feel lesser and unimportant, for scaring you, please, you have to know, I would never lay a hand on you, I never meant a single thing I said last night, I was frustrated and let the week get to me, which is no excuse for the way I treated you. I broke your trust, and I’ll spend forever and a month trying to earn it back. You are without a doubt the best thing that has happened to me, and the way I treated you after everything that’s happened, it- it makes me sick. I love you so much, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. But I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, I-I just- I need you to know that I love you, and that I never meant it, I’d never mean it.” His voice cracked at the end,  and he wiped his eyes before looking up to meet your gaze. You were crying, biting your lip to keep it in but failing as you took a shuddering breath that turned into a half-sob. His heart broke even more seeing you like this, and he reached out to comfort you before stopping, hand curling back into his chest.

“Can, Can I touch you?” He asked shakily, scared of the answer, shoulders slumping with relief when you nodded and he quickly gathered you into his arms, pulling you into his lap and holding you tight, like if he let you go you’d disappear. You were crying louder now, hands fisted into his sweatshirt. He nuzzled his face into your hair, quietly apologizing over and over, tears starting to fall from his eyes as well, kissing the side of your head.

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like hours, though in reality it was about 10 minutes. Your sobs had died down, you were just sniffing occasionally, and Atsumu’s eyes had cleared, no longer obstructed by the water wall of tears. He pulled you away from his chest slightly, cupping your cheeks, wiping at the tear tracks staining your face.

“’M sorry, ‘m so sorry. I’ll say it for the rest of my life darlin’, I love you so much and I am so proud of everything you do. I hope that one day you can forgive me, but I understand if you can’t, if you won’t. You mean th’ world t’ me angel, I want nothing more than for you to be happy, for you to feel safe and loved. I promise I will support you better from now on, no matter what. I’ll make good on my promises from all those years ago, I swear.” You nodded at his words, hands coming up to cup his own before one of his moved to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss, stopping right before your lips met, breath mixing as he looked at you for signs of hesitance, of fear.

“Is this okay?” Instead of verbally confirming you closed the short distance, hands gripping his shoulders as your lips moved against his slowly, taking time to enjoy each other. He pulled away after a few moments before kissing your forehead, hugging you tightly once again. “Let’s go home.” You said quietly into his shirt, squeezing his shoulders before standing on shaky legs. He nodded, getting up after you, lacing your fingers together.

Weeks later~~

 You smiled nervously at Atsumu as you rose out of your chair, giving him a quick kiss before heading to the stage. You squinted briefly at the bright lights, exhaling and smoothing out your clothes before smiling at the audience as you introduced yourself. You tried to keep your gaze evenly over the crowd, but your eyes kept finding themselves locked with Atsumu, who grinned brightly and gave a thumbs up whenever you did. Your smile grew, nerves slowly dissipating as you lost yourself in your presentation.

Afterwards you answered a few questions from the crowd, thanking them again before heading back to your table. You shook hands with the host as they walked past to continue to the next topic and thanked your tablemates who congratulated you. You snorted at Tsukishima, who said it was a little boring, like he didn’t have a page of notes from the presentation in front of him.

You turned to your boyfriend, smiling as you laced your fingers together. “Wow babe that was amazing! I don’t know what half those words meant but you did great, I’m so proud of you.” You flushed at his praise, squeezing his hand while you kissed his cheek before turning back to the host, who was announcing the next speaker. You don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t work things out, and frankly you don’t want to think about it, the two of you are slowly building this back to where they were, but this time your relationship is stronger. You’re happier than you’ve ever been, and that’s what matters.

#My writing #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #atsumu x you #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #haikyuu imagines

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Hi! I’m a big fan of your work!! I am looking for more but unfortunately I feel like I have read all yhe good Harry Potter docs on Ao3. Do you have any recs?

Sorry for the delay, I just know that whenever I make rec list it usually ends up taking a while.

With that, Harry Potter fics are a big genre. Just saying Harry Potter in general really isn’t that specific to me so this is across genres/character focuses/you name it.

Also, as usual, I’ve been on fanfiction longer and have amassed more favorites there. Some of these are cross posted to Ao3. Similarly, a lot are unfinished, this personally doesn’t bother me but if it bothers you take heed.

Also, you’ll see my embarrassing obsession with Tom Riddle. So, heads up for that.

Stepbrother (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, period piece, in which the two remind me a lot of Nabokov)

Cat Among the Pigeons (Tom Riddle/Lily Evans, Psycho-Pass Detective AU, in which I am a beta actually so my promoting this goes without saying)

Til Death Do Us Part (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Voldemort wins AU, which for me does very well with the concept of immortality and what exactly Tom is supposed to do after he wins)

This Tangle of Thorns (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, modern AH AU, a full on Nabokov inspired fic which I enjoy because Lolita)

Delusional (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, sort of. Harry wins the war, goes crazy, checks into a mental hospital. Or he’s not crazy and Voldemort is as unkillable as Palpatine.)

Harry Potter and the Natural 20 (OC insert, D&D inspired, shameless crack. I mostly enjoy the beginning of this but it makes me laugh enough to recommend.)

A Hairy Business (AU, Harry is a deer, he is literally a deer, that’s it. It’s funny.)

Animus, Anima (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time, gets stuck in Tom Riddle’s brain, and it turns out Harry’s responsible for every terrible thing that ever happened. This one was squicky even for me, very well done, but strap in.)

Addendum, He is Also a Liar (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Tom has an inexplicable ability to travel to the future, but only to this random little girl Hermione Granger)

Framed & Fractured (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry gets stuck in an evil painting back in time. Tom is creepy as usual.)

Trying for Eden (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time to lecture Tom into morality. It doesn’t work.)

Magical Mirrors (Luna Lovegood and Severus Snape, Luna and Snape stumble on the Mirror of Erised at the same time and strike up a conversation)

Aphelion (Hermione Granger/Loki, MCU crossover, Hermione and Loki strike up the world’s weirdest toxic friendship when Hermione’s young and attending Hogwarts, this leads terrible places as Loki slides into madness and despair)

Wandering Souls (Luna Lovegood and The Undertaker, Black Butler crossover, Luna meets and strikes up a conversation with the Undertaker)

Of Lies Most Beautiful (Tom Riddle, Hunger Games crossover, Tom wins the Hunger Games becaues that’s what he does bitch)

In Wonderland (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry ends up back in the past and decides to raise Tom Riddle. This goes so poorly that the pair almost get eaten by eldritch gods multiple times.)

Rumpelstiltskin, Guess My Name (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Female Harry travels back in time and offers to save Merope’s life/get her Tom Riddle Sr. the non rapey way in return for her firstborn son. Merope thought Harry was joking. She wasn’t joking. In the sequel, also linked, Harry kills Morfin.)

The Eyes (Harry Potter, AU, turns out “the power he knows not” is the power humanity knows not, Harry’s ability to see eldritch abominations and cosmic gods and thus bring them far enough into our reality that they eat everything. And I mean everything.)

Mirror Mirror (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry makes a huge mistake and stops Hulk in the middle of a rampage. This gets him abducted by octopus nazis.)

I See the Moon (Harry Potter and Bruce Banner, MCU crossover, Harry got brain damage from the war and wanders around the middle of nowhere. He runs into Bruce. He’s now Bruce’s only friend.)

You Will Be the Death of Me (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Despicable Me inspired, through a series of convoluted events Tom as the world’s worst father figure ends up raising Harry the sad adorable orphan.)

In Death, Standby (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter (sort of, the authro claims), Tom raises Harry, the only Tom raises Harry that I’ve seen done well because Tom is the world’s worst father. Harry thinks he’s a deformed snake until the age of three.)

Little Harry’s Mirkwood Adventure (Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley, Hobbit Crossover, one of the most Tolkien style crossovers I’ve actually seen and is very good)

A (Self-Imposed) Trap for a Fool (Ginny Weasley, turns out Harry Potter never existed, as in he’s a collective hallucination made up by the entire wizarding world)

McLaggen and From McLaggen with Love (McLaggen, a detective AU then a James Bond style adventure starring McLaggen, the greatest wizard who ever wizarded)

Tom Riddle’s Diary: on keeping devils in the summer (Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle’s antichrist orphan adventures involving exorcism and burning people alive)

and the fates sing (hold on, son) (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry is the son of Loki and like all children of Loki he is a wretched and cursed thing)

A Faulty Master (Harry Potter and Itachi Uchiha, Naruto crossover, Itachi after the massacre of his family has a run in with a master of death Harry, who is a creepy creepy man)

Eye of Reason (Harry Potter/Jack Frost, Rise of the Guardians crossover, due to the mythos surrounding his life Harry ceases to be a man and becomes akin to a god)

Flowers for a Ghost (Luna Lovegood and Itachi Uchiha, Naruto Crossover, Luna befriends a blind ghost)

Third Time’s the Charm (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Bruce Banner keeps trying to kill himself and MoD Harry is there to have himself a real good day)

Blind Faith (Bellatrix LeStrange/Tom Riddle, canon compliant, an in depth look at Bellatrix from the escape of Azkaban onward)

Cocktail Time (Rita Skeeter and Gilderoy Lockhart, Rita does an expose and autobiography detailing the descent of Gilderoy Lockhart and how he became what he became)

Fantastic Elves and Where to Find Them (Harry Potter, canon divergent AU, Harry thinks he’s an elf. That’s it.)

The Twine Bracelet (Colin Creevy, a look at Colin’s death) 

Legal Alien (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry visits New York and an alien invasion breaks out. Culminates with the best, dumb, joke.)

The Root of Desire (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Hermione travels back in time and tries to influence Tom. All this does is inspire his sexual awakening.)

Deadheads (Harry Potter/Godric Gryffindor, a romantic comedy of a kind, culminating in the best dumbest joke)

Give and Take (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Hermione tries to outwit Tom, it ends in despair)

The Road to Somewhere (Harry Potter, Spirited Away crossover, Harry as MoD is in the realm of the spirits)

Absolute (Harry Potter, Harry picks up a death note, he kills everyone)

Fortunate Son (Dudley Dursleys, years afterwards Dudley looks back and writes a memoir and expose about the abuse inflicted on his cousin)

Elective Affinities (Severus Snape/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time to discover his parents are assholes and things are more complicated than he imagined)

Juxtaposed (Bod, Graveyard Book crossover, Bod attends Hogwarts)

The Fire Omens (Tom Riddle and a look at WWII)

Broken Toys (Tom Riddle and his useless broken toys)

The Fine Art of Poisoning (Madame Zabini)

A Marriage of Convenience (Pansy and Theo get married)

Reparabilis (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom becomes a professor, he still destroys Harry Potter)

The Unforgivable Curses (Draco Malfoy, a look at the 4th year unforgivable lecture with Moody and the Slytherins)

Ugly (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy one sided Dudley/Harry Potter, Dudley’s fat, ugly, and creeps on his cousin)

Three Can Keep a Secret (Harry Potter, on secrets and secret keeping)

Caveat Incimici (Hermione Granger, on Hermione and her terrifying wrath)

Babylon (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry never gets rid of Tom)

Wonderful Tragic Mysterious (Luna Lovegood and Albus Dumbledore, Luna Lovegood time travels and becomes a young Albus’ neighbor)

In the Clockface, Weighted and Weary (Harry Potter/Ariana Dumbledore, Harry after DH ends up back in time in Dumbledore’s childhood and witnesses the beautiful Dumbledore family dysfunction)

Eternal Return (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry is reincarnated as Tom Riddle and as a result becomes Voldemort so that a Voldemort exists)

Like Pale Fire (Harry Potter/Godric Gryffindor, the Founders are resurrected and it turns out Harry had travelled to the past and become Salazar Slytherin, turns out the Founders were more complicated than people expected.)

12 Moves Sideways (Harry Potter and Light Yagami, Death Note crossover, Light becomes the Defense Professor, for once Harry does not figure out the mystery.)

A Very Young Girl’s Record of Her Own Impressions (Ariana Dumbledore’s diary)

Night Comes Early (Moody on war)

Little Witches (The Black family women and how it all falls apart)

Paved with Good Intentions (Petunia on finding a baby on her doorstep)

Emerald Serpent for Vanity (Draco and Nagini introspective)

Blue (Tom Riddle/Bellatrix LeStrange, Voldemort wins dystopia, Tom visits Bellatrix’s grave and is very crazy)

Eighteen (Hermione Granger, on Hermione’s betrayal of her parents)

Ouroboros (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, on what they’ve made of each other)

Not so Different (Scout, To Kill a Mockingbird Crossover, Scout reflects on the wizarding world’s raicsm)

Traitor (Hermione Granger, Hermione is captured by the Death Eaters and commits unspeakable acts to free herself)

Smashing Mirrors (Tom Riddle, introspective)

Twelve Dark Moons (Luna Lovegood/Tom Riddle, Luna becomes a captive of the dark lord)

Full Circle (Harry Potter, Harry wins and is miserable)

The Web of a Thousand Spiders (Luna Lovegood on the diary)

The Metronome (The fall of Lucius’ entire generation)

Understand (Hermione Granger and her betrayal of her parents)

Tea with the Headmaster (Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, the pair have tea)

This Grief Feeling (Hermione Granger and Severus Snape after the end)

After Innocence (The trio after the end)

Of Great Turmoil and Excess Stupidity (Sesshomaru and Hagrid, Inuyasha crossover, Hagrid decides to capture a demon for class)

What’s Left of Hope (Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, on preserving hope)

In His Keep (Severus Snape and Luna Lovegood, Snape informs Luna her father has died)

Wednesday (Petunia Evans, introspective)

In the Presence of Angels (Moody in WWII)

What He Grows to Be (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry Potter raises Tom Riddle in the past and it goes horribly wrong)

Being Cassandra (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Tom, and their strange AU friendship)

The Girl (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, a fem Harry Potter keeps accidentally appearing in Tom’s childhood)

Corruption (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom wins AU and female Harry slowly becomes corrupted)

One Night Stand (Tom Riddle/Lily Evans, a wonderful look on the first war, Tom Riddle, Lily Evans, the Order of the Phoenix, and terrorism)

The Voldemort Principle (Severus Snape, turns out Snape was Voldemort the whole time and Harry is a lying liar who lies)

Harry Potter and the mountain of pure diamond (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry has become an ageless god who travels worlds and decides to raise Tom Riddle. He’s disturbed when he realizes Tom is more of a person than he is)

A Road Less Travelled By (Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy, Harry’s a veela, just read it, it’s amazing, I know I sound crazy but it is)

Transformation (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Draco gets eaten by the Forbidden Forest and then Harry gets eaten too)

Rock Bottom (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom gets trapped being defense professor and has a miserable time)

#ask #anon #harry potter #recommendations

[savrenim]

i am running thru ur tumblr to find ONE POST to cite for tvtropes, and i agree so hard with the soulmate stuff. what if my soulmate is an awful abuser, i want the choice to NOT be with them without some painful physical consequence or loss of perception if i don't date them just because the universe said we were "meant to be"... plus if it's just a magic thing it "feels" more justified in-universe that soulmates exist and less like an ass pull so you could justify getting 2 characters together

oH gods this is something that I have SO many feelings about that probably is slightly informed by my own orientation and preferences, but. feelings. this got long so it's going under the cut

so there are three and a half major things that I have a problem with in terms of general soulmate tropes that are "there is one person who is your perfect romantic partner" (which to be fair I've seen a number of soulmate AUs do that trope with the addendum "although it only applies to a certain percentage of the population / not everyone has soulmates / everyone has soulmates but not everyone has SUPER PERFECT ROMANTIC soulmates" which at least somewhat avoids the statistic inevitability of abusive soulmates if combined with Fate Can See The Future And So Your Fated Soulmate Just Won't Be) and these complaints aren't even from the "I'm poly where's my poly rep" kind of place which is a whole 'nother bag of worms, but let's go:

1. I aggressively believe that love is a choice. Love is something that is built, not predetermined before you meet someone. There might be initial compatibility aspects going down when you first meet someone, but, like. statistically there are more than seven and a half billion people on this planet. If there is only a single person perfectly meant for you, again, statistically, you are not going to meet them, I've seen the figure thrown that on average a person will meet on the order 10,000 people in their lifetime but let's even go 100,000, you will meet 0.001% of the world's population. Unless you think some sort of divine coincidence or fate is guiding you to a soulmate which throws free will out the window and then I can't help you but, like. discarding the math, I think it is actively harmful to a relationship to believe that it can be sustained on chemistry or predetermined 'but we're perfect for each other' alone. It requires work. You choose who is in your life, you choose who stays in your life, you choose who you want to be important to you based on what they contribute to your life and what you contribute to theirs.

(I am assuming this ask is at least partially in reaction to my soulmate post, which actually the fic in question, a buried and a burning flame, has since gone up. I highly recommend reading Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard first, but besides the setup for arson wizards that alas is never used because the fire mage with a soulmate in question is Responsible, I decided to both tackle 'okay soulmarks trope too let's throw it in', which leads to the not-really-a-spoiler passage that appears fairly early on about actually the full layout (albeit with less detail on the 'yeah for mages it just helps ground their magic, nothing romantic about it' part) of my Soulmate Rules:

Soulmates existed, both in the Empire of Astandalas and across the Wide Seas. They just worked slightly differently in Vangavaye-ve than the rest of the worlds.

The rest of the Empire seemed to view soulmates as a monolith. From what Cliopher had been able to glean, the tradition was grounded in their magic. Magi had soulmates, or rather, magic-workers would each have a soulmate. Cliopher wasn't clear if all magic-workers had a soulmate, or if magic-workers simply could have one, but there was always a mage in soulmate pairs, and it was always a pair. There were no marks, no visible signs involved, as soulmates were something that were sensed with magic. They were permanent, intrinsic, and to be recognized immediately.

To Wide Sea Islanders, soulmates were a choice.

The soul-marks, lana and lani-voa, would appear the first time you touched someone that you had chosen to love, with the full knowledge that you loved them. Cliopher had the marks of his mother and father, his sisters, Basil and Dimiter, Bertie and Ghilly. His skin was covered lovingly with the colors of his love, marks that he had gotten used to concealing with long sleeves in Astandalas when he had gotten tired of the constant staring at his 'primitive tattoos'.

Buru Tovo had been the only one to give him lani-voa, a greater mark of the soul. The pattern, with its thick lines and twisting design in a deep blue, extended over the entirety of his left arm and shoulder. They were the dances of his family pressed onto his skin, and he had traced them over with reverent and feather-light touch for months after he had received them. A lani-voa marked someone who had changed your life for the better in a deep and irrevocable way. It was a great honor to have even one.

And now, with the gold stretching up his right arm, new patterns that he didn't recognize stretching up from a handprint of pure gold that was expanding the longer he held that first contact with Tor—

now he had two.

(Buru Tovo is Cliopher's great uncle, for context. In fact, everyone listed there is either a familial or platonic relationship, with a single relationship that used to be romantic but settled into platonic.))

so. yeah. Love is a choice! The Biggest Of Moods! any soulmate lore that undermines that is a Bad Message, in my opinion.

The emphasis also on platonic soulmates leads into my second point:

2. I have found in my life that platonic relationships that I have are and have always been as important if not moreso than the romantic relationships. the emphasis of a single romantic relationship as the most important relationship that you can be in maybe fits for some people, but as a generalization to absolutely everyone I think is toxic and harmful. and not just for aro people! I'm not aro, but I would be miserable to write off my friends as Less Important And Meaningful to me than my parter, whom I love with all my heart! (I've actually ended up in my life settling into what I call the red/blue/gold system for 'relationships that I treat with the importance that society treats romantic relationships', but that's a personal thing). The standard soulmate trope tends to really solidly deliver the thesis of "there is a single romantic relationship that is the single most important relationship in your life" and I just think that's a very bad thesis.

3. Finally, I think the emphasis on permanent/forever is a harmful one for relationships in general. People change. you drift closer to people or further away from them. you move, they move, your schedules change, your interests change, your life changes. if you are living with a romantic partner you're going to keep seeing each other every day, but that doesn't stop you from changing as a person, which means see Point 1 Love Is A Choice; but even if you choose to remain together, you are probably eventually going to Ship Of Theseus your entire relationship. I think it is an important message that if that happens and it is no longer a relationship that is as deeply positive as it once was in your life, you don't...have to keep it out of loyalty to what it once was.

It's okay for people to drift out of your life that were once the most important person in your life. It doesn't invalidate how important and meaningful that relationship used to be, and it isn't a betrayal to let yourself and them and your relationships change and evolve. The idea that something has to be forever for it to matter I think is the idea about soulmates that I disagree with the most. Probably because that was the hardest lesson for me to learn as a kid and a teenager, and the life lesson that I am proudest for learning.

3.5 your point 'plus if it's just a magic thing it "feels" more justified in-universe that soulmates exist' is exactly on the nose, literally I am unable to write anything without attempting to write down a universal theory of everything for How The World Works. if something soulmate-wise is going down even if it never appears on the page you bet your ass I have either figured out the general cosmology and theology of "are there gods or divine forces who have instituted this policy? if so, why? what purpose does it serve", or in the case of abaabf which already has such interesting magic rules in the original canon of "is there an evolutionary reason for soulmates to exist" which I don't go tracing out full evolutionary biology for a fic necessarily mostly because I would want the full evolutionary biology in canon to make sure mine is compliant enough but that sure as hell does translate to "if soulmates exist and it's not for the reason of Because Godlike Beings Said So, there better be a practical purpose". I find at least long-form soulmate fics (ie things With Plot and a Developed Setting that aren't just "let's do a ficlet with this well-known trope") that Do Not Feel Like They've At Least Thought About Why Soulmates Happen To Exist hurt my soul. which I think slightly intersects with my "I hate it when the rules of the universe/ laws of physics are human-centric" instead of "the base rules which were not designed for humans came first, and how the human world works arose in reaction to them" and. yeah. consistent desire to know at least for myself why things are set up the way that they're set up which gods ifmlam is wild and completely bullshit and pulls from quantum multiverse philosophy I started writing that thing when I was like. eighteen? nineteen? but at least it's there so I can be consistent.

as a caveat for everything above: I don't actually think that fiction, fanfiction in particular, needs to perfectly reflect what A Good Relationship or A Good Message About Relationships should be. it is a very human desire in a chaotic and confusing world to want a simple, absolute, binary thing to hold onto. fiction is a place for escapism or wish fulfillment or even exploring things that you wouldn't actually want in real life, I think that the movement in fandom/fiction that all of the messaging in your story should match the advice you'd give for a real-life setup is a bad and harmful one. mostly my opinions on soulmates and hence desire to do inversions of the soulmate trope in my fic and things like the red/blue/gold system and heavy emphasis on platonic relationships in original work that I'm writing is about a desire to see representation for me and the things I love and find important and my sort of relationships in the stories that are a big part of my life. but I am really glad that in doing so I seem to have struck a chord in other people, who maybe want to see the same thing!

#my life #my writing #abaabf #soulmates #also what post are you looking for/ what is its general topic if you haven't found it #I might remember a few keywords and be able to help you search

[seamayweed]

fic meme

Thanks for tagging me, @blueberry-cheese-pizza <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

6! I’m a very slow writer and frequently suffer from writer’s block!

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

59506 words.

3. Top five fics by kudos

Mánagarmr (Vikings)

The Earth Still Burns (Final Fantasy VII Remake)

Second Chances (Thor)

Peony Lantern (Naruto)

like gathering drops of rain (it’s useless) (Batman Movies (Nolan))

4. Do you respond to comments, and why?

I really do try to respond to comments, though it’s rarely in a timely fashion. I love it when people share their thoughts on something I poured all my heart and soul into. Sadly I don’t always have the spoons to respond :(

I also have a bad habit of starting WIPs and then abandoning them, and I end up feeling so guilty that I can’t reply to newer comments (though I always read and appreciate them). This is why I’ve decided not to post unfinished WIPs anymore.

5. What’s the fic you have written with the angstiest ending?

It’s def red dust (it’s not stardust)! Then again, it’s pretty much angst from start to finish. It might very well be the darkest thing I’ve ever written even if it’s not very explicit and more emotionally/psychologically driven haha.

My gremlin heart simply craves angst, darkfic and non-con stuff. All my most self-indulgent fics contain these things and I don’t regret it at all!

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Hmmm I think it’s Peony Lantern, since it ends on a hopeful note. 

7. Do you write crossovers, if so what’s the craziest one you have done?

I may have written a few crossovers veeeery long ago. Let’s not talk about them shhhh.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Luckily, no!

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I love reading and writing smut so much! I think the kind I write is a mix of entertaining/titillating (in a way that personally appeals to me first and foremost) and character-driven. Trying to put the sheer emotionality, raw vulnerability, intensity and sensuality of this experience into words is such a fun challenge each time!

I like my smut consensual, non-con, dub-con, the whole sliding scale, whether healthy or abusive/toxic... and I’ll give almost every kink a chance if it’s well-written. There are so many kinks that I wanna try my hand at writing too!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so?

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Hmmm no on this one too.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope and I don’t think I ever will!

13. All time favorite ship!

There are so many, I can’t decide! I love all the ships I write about and more... For My Country it’s Seon-ho/Bang-won & Seon-ho/Hwi (but let’s be honest, Seon-ho/Sung-rok too), for Vikings it’s Bishop Heahmund/Ivar the Boneless, for Thor it’s Thor/Loki/Balder, for FF7 it’s Sephiroth/Cloud... The list goes on and on. As you can see, my ships usually comprise of swordmates! ⚔

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you will?

*sigh* It’s my Mánagarmr fic. I tend to crash so badly after posting a fic and the writer’s high fades, and convince myself that my writing is horrible... which happened with this story, but what really killed my muse is how the show completely butchered the characters. I don’t have the heart to ever abandon a story of mine completely, and hope to pick it up again one day! 

I’m also working on my unposted Seon-ho-centric Bang-won/Seon-ho AU where they start a political alliance about one year before the First Strife. Seon-ho frees slaves, actually makes some political changes, and finds his own children small found family in the form of Bang-seok and his siblings. There is some Seon-ho/Hwi too (though it’s not the main pairing), with some hints of Seon-ho/Sung-rok. But who knows when I’m going to finish and post this, if I’m ever going to post this one day haha.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Apparently I’m a purple prose monster! The nicest comments I’ve gotten have told me that my writing reads like epic poetry and that it would be a crime against humanity if I ever stopped writing. Another commenter said that I have a talent for writing evocative grossness (as a compliment) lol. I treasure each and every one of them in my heart <3

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m wordy af and a perfectionist. I’m working on this!! Dialogue is hard. I can also get a bit too enthusiastic with my flowery language and purple prose haha. Should probably cut down on the sprawling introspection too.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

It’s a cool thing to do! Languages are cool! If you deem it necessary, you should def include it.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

The Batman movies by Christopher Nolan. The Dark Knight (2008) left a very deep impression on me!

19. Fave fic you have written?

My absolute fave is Mánagarmr, with Second Chances being a close second. Though The Earth Still Burns was such pure, mindless fun too. I just love all of my fics haha.

Tagging @illwynd, @argents-huntress, @alwaysbethefirstonetodance and anyone else who wants to do it. No pressure tho! :D

#meme #fic meme #thanks for tagging me for this meme! #reminded me that i should focus more on writing again haha

[bibbykins]

Retroactive Redamancy (M)

A/N: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC. This fic does have some darker scenes which I will detail in the warnings. This fic wasn’t as difficult for me to write, but we all have different triggers, so please take care of yourself first above all else. On a lighter note, I am extremely happy to be finishing the soft yandere series. Is this the last of my soft yandere fics or this au? Absolutely not, I have a ton of fun writing yandere and this au, but I am also looking forward to the other fics I plan on posting. All of my wips have some yandere elements, but in varying degree. I hope you will continue to support me and have a great day/night and stay safe in these trying times!

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst

Word count: 11.9k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Hoseok x reader

Warnings: graphic depictions of blood, graphic descriptions of domestic abuse (not done by Hoseok), graphic descriptions of injury on the mouth/tongue, mentions of trauma, anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of puke, penetrative sex, cunnilingus, cumming inside *** all sexual acts mentioned are consensual ***, unhealthy relationship, toxic relationship

Summary: You both swore you would never see each other again. It’s funny how fate works, even when you have to go through hell to make it work. His house was just a random house as you stumbled out of a cab, blood pooling in your mouth. You had no expectations for him to catch you when you fell, and most importantly, protect you when you needed it most. He sat you on his throne and called himself your knight. Is it wrong of you to love him again for it? Is it wrong of him to keep you? Is it wrong of you to want to be kept? 

The act of loving back.

It was the way he looked at you. It was the way he made you feel like the only one in his world and him the only one in yours. It was love. But that's the tricky thing about two people loving one another. One person can decide it is no longer a shared love. In a split second, it is unrequited.

---

“I-I don't understand.”  Your bottom lip quivered as Hoseok stood in front of you. In any other situation, he would've knelt down and consoled you, but this was an outlier in that pattern, “You said you wanted to be with me for the rest of your life.”

“For the rest of my life here.” He gestured to your hometown surrounding both of you, “Now I have to go back to my life.”

His life? But this was his life. Right?

He said you were his world and now he couldn’t wait to explore another universe, any universe away from you.

That's when it hit you. All you did was keep him company as he studied abroad. He was a college sophomore testing out the waters of a new country, and you were a high school senior, browsing for college and falling head over heels for this man the past nine months.

"You must have a lovely girlfriend at home, huh?" He remained silent, guilty. You let out a breathy laugh, “Oh, I see.” You sighed, the tears finally toppling over and hitting your cheeks, “You're scared to be alone.” He remained silent, “What kind of man are you back home that you call this here a different life?” Guilty silence, “I love you, and you don't know a damn thing about me I bet.” Your lip quivered, "That's what I get for being the other woman." You spit the words out, more angry with yourself.

“You're angry, I get it.” He spoke softly as he reached for your hand and you recoiled sharply, “You hate me.”

“I'm hurt.” You snapped, looking him in his eyes full of guilt, “I could never hate you, just like you could never love me. Just like how you refuse to tell me where home is for you. Just like how you refuse to tell me about your family. Just like how you refuse to fall in love because you are so afraid of the other person not catching you. Well, I have just hit the ground, and I hope you're fucking ecstatic.” Your tears didn't hinder your words but made them hit harder in Hoseok’s eyes. 

You were always so observant. He wondered where life would take you with that talent. Where you wanted to go with that talent. He made sure he never knew.

You were only in high school. You were just 18. You would forget him.

“I can't believe how much I love you.” You sighed, “I'm so fucking pathetic. I'm sick of this.” You sniffed and he braced himself for the final proclamation of hate, “You have a great life in mystery land with a mystery girl and achieve all the things you want to with your mystery major, and I will do the same, okay?”  You took a deep breath, “Do great things in life.” You told him before turning on your heel and walking away.

It would have been easier on the both of you if you hated him.

----

Hoseok was now in his first year of graduate school. He was the director of human resources at a large company. He was wealthy, smart, and he loved to have company, even if it was not his ideal companion. There was a certain whisper from his past that kept him awake after an exhausting one nightstand.

The void in his heart was semi-filled as he stuffed his dick inside someone else. Hoseok had established a pattern of getting a secretary into bed and then the secretary would quit once their declaration of love was effectively denied. He could not admit to himself why he rejected each confession, but he knew it had to do with a certain girl he had denied himself further access too at an attempt toward redemption. Despite this unspoken wound on his heart, he was expecting to do the same cycle of his with his soon to be former secretary Jiyeon on this cold night until he heard a knock on his door, a persistent one.

“Give me one second.” He pecked the girl's neck at the table, expecting it to be the groceries he ordered.

Upon opening the door, Hoseok found something else. He found a girl with a thin sweater and sweatpants shaking. She had a face mask and her eyes were downcast. 

When you heard the door open you looked up, “H-Hoseok? Jung Hoseok?” You were baffled, “I-I didn't know you live here, but I need a favor.” He knew who you were. He knew the way his name came from your lips. He knew how the syllables roll off your tongue.

Hoseok drew a breath, trying to make sure he was living and breathing at this moment. He couldn’t imagine he had been dreaming about you this time. All his dreams of you were blissful. Although, this setting of you needing something from him could very well be in his dreams. 

It was really you. The not so forgotten dream girl he abandoned in favor of his fear of commitment. You looked different. You looked hurt. What were you doing here? How did you even get here? Why were you here after years of being apart?

You, on the other hand, felt a mixture of relief and dread. On one hand, Hoseok was a sore spot in your romantic history, but he was officially the best boyfriend you’ve had, albeit, by default. On the other hand, you were in pain and you wanted nothing more than to cry and be coddled, but feeling secure that this man would not hurt you physically was enough.

It was really him. The man who turned his back on you. The man who was still as beautiful as the day he left you, but now was absolutely not the time to focus on that,  “I need to use a phone or charge mine.” You squeaked and Hoseok looked at you in bewilderment, and you assumed it was due to not recognizing you, “It's y/n.” You offered but he was still stunned, as you saw a beautiful woman linger behind him, “Look, I don't care who you're fucking right now, please let me in.” Your voice was quaking, desperate. He had never heard it like this before.

 He stepped to the side as you scurried in, “Jiyeon, leave.” The girl balked and he turned to her with a stern eye, “Go.” The girl scoffed as she slammed the front door behind her.

“Where's the bathroom?” You immediately asked, bottom lip beginning to tremble as the pain set in.

“Y/n, what-" He had so many questions

“Later, I promise,” Your voice shook as your body still was, “Bathroom, please.” Your mouth sounded full almost and Hoseok studied you to find a line of red down your neck. 

It was dried blood, but upon further inspection not all of it was dry.

“You're bleeding!”  He spoke incredulously as he went to take your mask off. You wanted to fight it, but you were exhausted, “Don't even think about fighting me. You're hurt.” He read your mind as he pulled the mask down with a steady hand. The mask revealed a busted lip and a cut tongue that was now oozing blood, “Holy shit!” The man went to grab a rag as he held it to your lip, “What the fuck happened?!” He led your shaky legs over to a barstool in his kitchen.

You sat down, slumped over, looking at the rag to see small amounts of blood blotting the fabric. You were no longer gushing. That was good, “I didn't know where else to go.” You were muffled against the cotton, “This was the first place I could find. I had no idea you would- you would be here.”

Hoseok took a look at you. Your eyes were red and puffy. Your cheeks were stained with pure tears. Your nose had traces of blood on the nostrils. Your hands were bruised with open slices that stopped bleeding. Your shirt was torn on the stomach and shoulder. Your feet only had socks on them as your sweatpants had even more dry blood.

Hoseok shuddered at the thought of what happened. He wondered if someone did it. The notion made his blood boil. He took a look at your hand and saw an engagement ring. His blood was no on fire. It didn't take a genius to see what happened. To put two and two together.

You followed his eyes and scoffed, “Pretty, huh?” You mused, lifting your finger up, “You should feel it when someone makes you slice your tongue on it.” You spoke flatly as Hoseok wet a paper towel to clean your chin.

You let go of the rag, the blood now dry and finished pouring out, “What happened?” Hoseok asked softly as you sighed.

“I have poor, poor taste in men.” You sniffled,” No offense.” You offered to the man in front of you,  “I am a victim of my poor judgment.” You sighed, and coughed as the thickness of your own blood sliding down your throat before it finally hit you, “Holy shit that hurts.” Your hand stroked your throat as Hoseok caught glimpse of faded bruises along your neck.

“How… How are you here?” He pressed a cold hand to your neck and you flinched before relaxing against his touch.

“Alive or in your home?” You giggled before coughing, “Sorry, not funny.” You breathed a small sigh as a wet cloth began to wipe away the blood that dripped onto your neck, “I went to University in Ilsang about two years ago. I fell for a man who could never love me, call me a creature of habit, but his parents did love me. I am quite the parent charmer, so he proposed, we moved just outside of the city, and began to plan the wedding.” Your cocky smile fell as you wiped a drop of blood from your mouth, “But the funny thing about being the girl of his parents' dreams almost always means I am not the girl of his.” Hoseok could feel his body heating in rage, “She is sexier, wild, and full of life, so she tried to take mine away, much to his approval.” You felt a tear try to squeeze past your swollen eye, “Call me a pacifist, but I prefer to be broken up with rather than beat.” Hoseok could finally see your face now with all the blood gone. You hadn't changed much, still as beautiful as the day he met you, “I won't bore you with the gore, but it was without purpose. I got a job in the city here as well as a scholarship for the university, so I was planning to leave anyway. However, running from my old apartment covered in blood and begging a taxi to take me as far as he can is not how I planned to make the move.”

“You mean she attacked you and he just let it happen?” Hoseok clenched the cloth in his hand.

“He… uh, held me down.” You shivered, all feigned strength and nonchalance absolved as you realized the gravity of your situation. You were homeless, beaten, and your job didn't begin until after the New Year thanks to a paid holiday break you still got compensated for, and now felt extremely thankful for, “God, this is so fucking crazy."

“We need to call the police!” Hoseok, in contrast to you, was fuming. How someone could ever lay a hand on you is something he would never care to understand. He just wanted to see them burn.

“No point.” You sighed for the nth time of the night. You opened your mouth to elaborate but was cut off by your own coughing as the blood in your tongue tried to make its way down your throat again. 

Hoseok didn't hesitate in putting his hand in front of your mouth. He felt your blood splatter onto his hand, “God, give me his name.” He murmured as you coughed into his hand.

“I'm sorry.” You coughed again, before pulling away from his hand, “That is so gross.” You looked to his bloodied hand.

There was something almost primal with the way Hoseok felt the need to take care of you. No matter how many years went by or the amount he fucked up with you, his instinct to keep you safe has not changed, much to his dismay. Throughout the years, he did his best to stay away from you, but he found himself more than horrified by the result of this.

You were in his kitchen, beaten and coughing blood into his hand. He was trying to remain calm as he wet a towel to wipe your neck, but his knuckles turned white on the sink when he turned the faucet. He needed to know the names of the people who did this. He needed to tear them down.

Hoseok brought a white rag into your neck and the cooling sensation of the water made your eye flutter closed in bliss. He savored the moment of your care-free look. He missed it. He carefully rid your neck of your caked-on blood and he was happy to see your beautiful skin again.

You let him brush the rag against the corners of your mouth and on your cheek, cleaning you. He turned the rag to a clean side and pushed your cheeks lightly opening your mouth. You got the hint and reluctantly stuck your tongue out, but the feeling of the cool cloth on your wounded tongue made up for it.

You were beautiful, even more so now that he could see your face, “There you are.” He murmured, “Doesn’t look like your face will bruise.” He mused as he cleaned your tongue, “Tongues heal pretty quick and the cut isn’t too deep either.” His first aid training from last month was proving pretty useful.

“You think so?” You asked him before looking into his eyes.

Hoseok returned your look. His face lit up as your innocent eyes looked for confirmation. In your eyes, Hoseok could see all that he denied himself. He could see the number of times you cried without him there, the times you giggled and he wasn't there to tease you on how cute it was, and the times you proclaimed to love someone who didn't deserve it. But no more. Hoseok had you here now, and he was dead set on keeping it that way. You were the one.

Hoseok was always so warm, and his eyes showed as much when he returned your gaze with the same smile that made your heartbeat, “You'll be just fine.” He touched your cheek softly and you relaxed fully for the first time this whole night.

There was something about his affirmation that made you feel like everything would be okay. You would start your new job and be the person you always wanted to be. You would be more than a beaten girl on your ex’s front porch. You would be able to close your eyes and wake up to a new day. This night will be in the past one day. You have a future ahead of you. These are all the things that seemed impossible hours ago. These are all the things Hoseok reminded you of in just four words. 

With this in mind, you decided it was time to let go of tonight. Let go of the pain and the suffering for just a moment.

You felt your bottom lip tremble and you let it happen as you felt your chest give as you let the sob jump out of your mouth. You let go of the rag you held and gripped the soft shirt Hoseok was wearing and pressed your forehead against his chest. You took a deep breath and felt the long-withheld tears pour down your cheeks as you hiccuped and sobbed against his chest.

If Hoseok wasn't so in love with you, he would think you were breaking down. However, he knew better. You were still his y/n after all. This is how you rebuilt. This is how you let go and face the future. This is how you heal. You express emotion in the most physical way you can. You find peace in watching the pain dry from your eyes. 

He wrapped your arms around you as you cried into his chest, clutching onto him for dear life, “You never change.” He mused as your shoulders shook, “Still my strong girl, even after all this time.” He stroked your hair as you sniffled.

You had stayed like this for a while. You let hell loose on Hoseok’s shirt. For a moment, it was like you were together again. It was as if you went back with him instead of all those years ago. You went to school with him and moved in with him. You would flaunt the love you two shared in glee as you spent your life with your first love. There would be no one else. Just him.

While this fantasy was nothing but, at this moment, you remembered how right it felt to be in his arms. Maybe you had been obsessed with him these past few years. Maybe you still loved him like you were still a teenager

Little did you know, he often dreamt of the possibility. 

“I-I thought I was gonna die there!” You sobbed.

Hoseok only held you tighter, unable to even bear the thought, “I'm never letting you go, y/n.” He cooed, “You have to know that.” 

A possibility that no longer seemed too out of reach.

Hoseok held you for hours before he felt your grip relax and your breathing even. Your weight was fully on him and he was happy to see you trusting him enough at this moment to fall asleep. To feel safe enough to rest. He wondered when the last time was that you slept peacefully. 

You stayed in this position until he was sure you were asleep. He lifted you in his arms as your head drooped against his shoulder. He carried you to his bedroom with the lightest step as he laid you down. 

Not one to overstep boundaries too much, Hoseok opted to sleep on the couch after tucking you in. He laid down and he wondered about all the ways he could make that bastard ex of yours pay. 

You woke up purely on your own. No alarm. No paranoia. No nightmare. Just your internal clock, which you were delighted to find was still functioning. You opened your eyes and yes, everything hurt, but you were still comfortable. 

You sat up, and that's when everything really hurt. You cried out as you put your hand to your aching head. Crying always gave you a headache. Paired with the beating from last night, your head was hell.

Hoseok raced down the hall to get to you. You looked up to see him out of breath and holding a bottle of water with a small pill in his hand, “Be careful!” He softly scolded as he handed you the pill and unscrewed the cap on the bottle.

You took the bottle from him as you popped the pill marked with the brand of a painkiller into your mouth before drinking the water. You had only then just realized how thirsty you were and began gulping it.

“Hey, hey slow down.” Hoseok’s hand lightly caressed your nape and you slowly put the bottle down, now half empty.

“Sorry, my-” You winced, your tongue proving to be quite sensitive.

“Talk lightly, you’re healing.” Hoseok cooed and for a moment you were brought back to the ridiculous reality you were brought into. You were in your first love’s bed alone after being nearly killed by your ex-fiance's side-chick. Now, the man who broke your heart was nursing you back to full health and treating your wounds. You wondered if you would wake up soon from this fever dream. Although, the pain on your tongue told you this was all too real.

“My throat was raw.” You with your tongue barely touching your mouth, making your speech much slower, “Is what I was trying to say.”

“I figured as much, you had a rough night to say the least, sweetheart.” Hoseok smiled at you reassuringly, “But here we are, a new day, a new chapter.” He gestured around him, “Now, your phone has been going off quite incessantly since I charged it, is there anyone that you were hoping to hear from?” 

You thought for a moment. You moved to South Korea on your own and the only friend you made became your fiance, now ex. His mom would call from time to time, but no way were you talking to her. Your family was long gone, so that’s out of the question. All you had was your new job, but it was a Saturday morning. You shook your head.

“Do you mind if I look at who it is?” He asked and you shook your head, the pounding of it having now subsided, letting the light vibrations of your phone on the nightstand register in your eardrum. Hoseok reached over and took your severely cracked phone into his slender hand, “Who is Oh Sookwang?” He asked, noticing the way you tensed up, “Ah, so that’s his name.” He noted as part of the work that he needs to get done once the workweek begins.

“Wh-What did he say?” You asked hesitantly. Hoseok also hesitated as he scrolled through the texts he sent, “Is it bad?”

“It’s certainly bad for him.” His voice was much colder now with his eyes transfixed on the phone, “It seems he wants to know if you’re dead.” He spoke flatly, “He also wants the ring back for Minyoung.”

You scoffed, unsure of what you expected. You clenched your fist and felt the gold band of the ring dig into your finger. The diamond has specks of your blood dried onto it by now. He probably didn’t even want it for Minyoung. It was probably going to serve as a trophy for another woman broken under their hands. It was a sign of the torment they were capable of inflicting with all the money and the power their feuding parents could give them. You ripped the ring off your finger before throwing it across the room. 

Hoseok watched as the diamond fell out of the ring and onto his bedroom floor. He rolled his eyes at how cheap of a ring this other man dared to present to someone so extremely out of his league. 

“The world is just going to keep turning under his discretion, isn’t it?” Your upper lip twitched in rage.

Hoseok leaned down and kissed the top of your head, “Not while I’m around.”

You looked up at the man who stood before you, “His family is powerful, and so is hers, it’s useless.”

Hoseok chuckled lightly before ruffling your hair, “Look around, babe, I’m powerful.” 

----

It had been a little more than a week before you agreed to stay with Hoseok. On one hand, he was your first love and heartbreak but on the other hand, you had nowhere else to go. The apartment you planned to move to was detected by Sookwang and for your safety, you decided to not sign the lease. Not like Hoseok would let you.

It had been almost a month since that night now. Your company extended your leave due to the circumstances you were faced with and Hoseok arranged his schedule so he could stay home until you went to work.

He had been quite the caretaker. A doctor he trusted came to make a housecall and gave you a clean bill of health, meaning no broken bones or internal bleeding. You screamed the first time he touched you, so you had to hold Hoseok's hand throughout his assessment. The trauma of it all had not hit you until another stranger had to touch you. Hoseok offered to take you to a counselor but you declined, not ready to say it out loud yet. Even so, you eventually did see someone for coping practices and a diagnosis you had already known.

Being with him again was nostalgic in its own way. Sometimes it felt like catching up with an old friend but then other days it felt like you were picking up right where you left off. Of course, you knew you had no business getting into another relationship after just ending an engagement. In reality, though, the engagement ended long ago, you had just stayed around like a loyal punching bag.

“I forgot how good of a cook you were.” You smiled at Hoseok and the fact you could speak without feeling an ache, “You've only gotten better too, no fair.” You pouted at him.

Hoseok took off his apron, moving to join you at the table, “It's just chicken parmesan, not rocket science.” He ruffled your hair, “Cutie.”

You looked at the man across from you and smiled at the way he settled in, “So, tomorrow you go back to work, right?” You asked as you shoveled the food into your mouth.

“Yes, but I could very easily-” You pouted at him reusing the same line. 

“No.” You reiterated, “We are both working tomorrow, remember?” Hoseok closed his mouth in defeat. You had made a good case about needing to return to work and move on this past week that he could not deny, “Be excited, it's cementing this new start.” You smiled reassuringly.

His face softened at you beaming grin and he smiled back, defeated, “I am excited, just worried.” He sighed.

You knew why. He was scared of you getting hurt or your ex trying to finish his lover's job, “You already reported them, so it's okay.” Hoseok nodded at your words, happy with how calm you were now compared to when you found out what he had done.

That was a rough day. You turned on the news to see the fall of Sookwang’s family corporation and Minyoung also went from heiress to most wanted. They were both under investigation for the attempted murder of an unknown female and embezzlement. There had been outside corporate lawyers and criminal lawyers called to the case. You screamed and cried that day, Hoseok taking the brunt of your misdirected anger. You feared taking the stand and that's what really drove your tantrum.

Hoseok grimaced at the memory, protective instincts kicking in, “You could at least tell me where you work or your job.” He grumbled.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “I told you I will.” You pointed your fork at him, “After a week, because otherwise you will show up or send someone to not so discreetly watch me.” You watch Hoseok slump, guilty, “And you will tell me all about your job then so I don't run to you whenever I get scared.”

“But I want you to run to me if you get scared.” He pouted this time, “I can't bear the thought of you being alone.”

“I can just call you, doofus.” You reached you his hand across the table and watched as he relaxed at the contact, “If I make you my crutch, I will only prove people like Sookwang and Minyoung right.” You mused sadly, “I gotta be better than that.”

Hoseok bit his tongue. He wanted to say that you were miles above scum like them. He would kill them with his bare hands if he didn't have the basic human rationale he cultivated ever so slightly. His morals weren't there, but he couldn't take care of you behind prison bars and he couldn't take you away into hiding and still make you happy. He also couldn't incite violence in fear of you comparing him to Minyoung. He had weighed his options very heavily and was extremely grateful he had the power to ensure the legal system would not fail you. With this, he chose to discipline scum with proper justice and corporate murder.

“You already are.” Hoseok squeezed your hand and stared into your eyes. The feelings he had just looking at you was hard to contain. He would give anything to kiss you again and have you as his, but he knew you wouldn't believe the time was right.

“Thank you.” You stared back at him with an almost equal amount of love and care. You were on your way to the right time. He just knew it.

“I'm sorry that I ever left you.” Hoseok blurted out as you began shaking your head.

You stopped him from speaking any further, “I'm glad you did.” You cut him off, “I needed this all to happen to be who I am now.” You smiled a bit, “It's clichè to say, I know, but before yesterday I considered not taking this job just because I was scared people would be mean.” You mused, “But I lived and at some point loved a man who literally wanted me dead, so what more could a disgruntled coworker or a mean boss do to me?” You picked at the pasta briefly, “I was much too spoiled before all of this. Everything I had was handed to me.”

Hoseok's face scrunched up, “You're the most hardworking person I know.” He spoke up, “You work for everything you get and you still deserve more than that.” 

“These past two years, I would wake up and feel ashamed for breathing.” You felt the pressure in your eyes, “I felt bad that I was still alive because I was causing all of this trouble.”

“None of that was your fault.” Hoseok gripped your hand tightly, “You were not the bad guy in that situation.”

“And logically, I know that, but it just gets to you after a while. Except for today,” You finally looked up at Hoseok and beamed just a little, “I woke up and I didn't even notice the pain, I looked out the window and saw a beautiful day. You smiled at me and everything was okay.” You watched as his signature smile grew, “I wasn't just an abuse victim, for the first time, I felt like a survivor.”

“You are.” He confirmed with and encouraging squeeze.

“And if being one means all this shit had to happen, so be it.” You affirmed to both Hoseok and yourself, “These next few days are gonna be rough, but Dr. Lin says I'm getting better at shaking his hand without shaking the rest of my body.” You giggled a bit before looking at your hand, Hoseok stroking the tan line where your ring used to be.

“The moment you feel uncomfortable, come home.” Hoseok pleaded, “You told them what happened, right?”

You sighed with a nod, “Yeah, they got the emails Dr. Lin drafted and they were actually really kind about it.”

“Good, but even if they weren't, you could work with me.” He offered for the millionth time and you rolled your eyes, “I know, I know, I just want to make sure you're safe and happy and eating right and hydrated and-”

“I am capable of doing so by myself too.” You pointed your fork at him, “I really appreciate you, Hobi, but you have to trust me.” 

Hoseok rested his case in favor of how happy you looked to start this mysterious new job and the fact that his old nickname slipped from your lips for the first time in years. You knew how to play him like a fiddle and had no idea. The last thing he would want was for you to hate him so he even opted to not research you to figure out what your job was. All you said was that you were freelance before they hired you which gave him nothing.

The next morning you woke up at the crack of dumb. In the mirror, you checked your tongue, the wound healed and the uncomfortable stitches you had a week ago fully dissolved. The whole incident felt like a distant nightmare now. All marks from it fully healed, and now only the scars remained. 

You heard Hoseok walking down the stairs, most likely to start the coffee before making breakfast. You had been staying in his guest room, for the time being, your bathroom was in the hall and he could see the light under the door, indicating you were awake. He had offered you the other bedroom with its own bathroom, but you wanted to get used to leaving your room a little more. 

It had been a long while since you put on makeup with a motivation revolving around self-care and confidence as opposed to masking clumps of busted vessels and capillaries lingering beneath your skin. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face as you applied eyeliner and checked your work in the mirror. There was something therapeutic about painting your face with a much lighter intent. You were excited, and for the first time in a while, you could feel your nerves buzzing and the butterflies in your stomach blooming from their cocoon. 

You also hadn't put this much effort into your hair this entire time. Hoseok would sometimes brush your hair after a shower, mostly out of habit from when both your hands had been wrapped up. However, beyond that, it was kept in its natural state, which you figured was mediocre at best when paired with your naked and bruised face at the time. Hoseok always talked about how beautiful you were, but this was the first time in a while you felt anywhere close to it.

There were no bruises on your face, your dark circles were not even half the horror they used to be, you didn't even have to slather foundation and concealer in an effort to cover an open wound. Your face had never felt so soft, scabs no longer present. You looked at your finished look and squealed to yourself. You looked nice. Your clothes were also stylish, in typical Hoseok fashion, he had surprised you with a new wardrobe beyond all protests, and you couldn't deny how nice it all looked on you. You had called him ridiculous for approaching you with a measuring tape, but the fit was no joke with how it hugged your figure.

“Breakfast is ready!” He called from downstairs and you smiled, excited to show him how you looked.

You nearly pranced down the stairs and to the kitchen to see Hobi with his back turned, getting coffee, “Oh y/n, did you want-” He turned around and was met with the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, “Holy shit.”

To him, you were always beautiful, but you were glowing this time due to your chipper mood. You smiled brightly at him as he took in your appearance. From the stylish high waisted black slacks with a flowy lavender blouse. The black pumps you had only accentuated your confident stature. Your face had light traces of makeup, but it had been growing to be more and more radiant. He took note of the necklaces you wore to compliment your skin complexion. Everything you were fit you so well, his mind was plagued by sinful thoughts of taking them off.

You weren't holding up well either. Hoseok was stunning no matter what, but this was the first time in a long time you had seen him in a suit. His hair was styled perfectly with his brown hair tousled in waves. His suit was well-fitting and the dress shirt managed to outline his muscles. The rings he had on next to his watch made you weak in the knees for some inexplicable reason. The glasses he wore only added to his sugar daddy aesthetic. Were you a gold digger or in love with this man?

You blinked away the question once you registered his profanity, “Is that a good holy shit?” You teased as you sat in front of the plate he set on the table.

“You're a goddess.” He groaned and you giggled, while he walked over with two coffee cups.

“And you're exaggerating.” You poked his nose before picking up your fork, catching sight at the tan line on your ring finger.

Hoseok watched your smile drop a little, “Y/n, are you alright?” His face showed very evident worry.

You looked up, snapping out of your trance, “Yeah, just this dumb tanline.” You huffed, “It's so blatant.”  You held up your hand to Hoseok, although he knew about the line all too well.

“I can put a ring on your finger.” You choked on your coffee at Hoseok's blunt words, “Y/n!” He made a move to stand and help you but you shook your head as you coughed.

“People will think I'm engaged.” You regained composure, “They'll ask me all kinds of questions.”

Hoseok would be lying if he said that was a bad thing. This would keep any intruders into your relationship with him away. This would keep you closer to him. He shrugged, “Engaged or not,” He placed a quaint box on the table, “I already bought the ring so…” He pushes the box toward you with a cheeky smile, “It's winter now, so you can just wear it until it fades.”

You chuckle as you take the box, “This might be more romantic than my proposal.” You joked, “He spelled it out in roses with candles around it.”

“You hate roses.” Hoseok pointed out and you nodded with an eye roll, “You know what?” He grabbed the blue velvet box and went around the table. Before you could ask what he was doing, he knelt down on one knee, taking your hand, “Y/n L/n, will you stay with me?”

You giggled, “I would be honored.” He beamed at you as he opened the box to reveal and black diamond with two smaller traditional ones on each side with a silver band which he slid on your finger, “I used to dream about this in high school.” You admired the ring, “I had a whole dream board for our future wedding.” 

Hoseok chuckled at this, “You really loved me, huh?”

You frowned as he stood to go back to his side of the table. Without thinking you gripped his hand, making him turn back to you, “I'll always love you, Hobi.” The words jumped out of your mouth before you could even consider the weight they held and the terrible timing it was. Your ex wasn't even in prison yet. His sentencing had yet to come and here you were like a blushing schoolgirl pining after Hoseok all over again.

Hoseok, on the other hand, was over the moon. He knew it, but to hear you say it was a new experience in and of itself. You were almost there. Almost ready for him to have you. For you to have him. He saw the worry creep on you face and then dissolve when he gripped your hand back, “And I, you.” He simply said before kissing your knuckles and then returning to his seat.

When it came time for you to go via the driver Hoseok insisted on you having, he hugged you tightly, “Call me if you feel anything other than excitement.” He let out a shaky breath before letting you go from his embrace to grip your shoulders, “Text me whenever you can just how you feel, okay?”

You smiled at him reassuringly, “If I get a papercut, I'll let you know the moment I put a bandage on.” You proclaimed dramatically and Hoseok whined, “I will call you if I need to, okay?” He nodded, “Do you trust me?” Another nod. You cupped his face before bringing it down to kiss his forehead softly. When he lifted his face it was dusted with a light brush, “Have a good day at work.” 

Hoseok took the chance to kiss your forehead this time, “You have the greatest day at work.” He spoke softly and you nodded before exiting through the front door.

Coming back to work was always a sore spot for him, but now that he had you back, it felt even worse. He was already missing you. On top of that, Jiyeon had quit so he had to be his own secretary for a while. He wondered how Taehyung did it for so long. Due to this new workload, he had no idea what his schedule was.

Hoseok looked up as he heard a knock on the glass door of his office. He always kept the blinds down, so he blindly let the visitor in with a call. Namjoon emerged with an exasperated look on his face, “You forgot, didn't you?” When he received Hoseok's response if an eyebrow raise he sighed, “Our fully recovered CEO is having a meeting with all the department heads with our newly wrangled Behavioral Scientist.” An ignorant blink, “The dude is like your new right-hand man Mr. Director of Human Resources.” 

“Oh right!” Hoseok stood, “Our expert in body language for sitting in on interviews.” He nodded, “What's his name again?”

Namjoon shrugged, “Who knows, but CEO Kim said he read her like a diary she was so impressed.” He smirked, “Maybe he’ll smell what an HR nightmare you are right off the bat.”

Hoseok walked over to the door Namjoon stood in the way of, “Hey, hey, I'm a changed man, remember?” He walked out of his office with his colleague, “I have all I need at home.”

His friends teasing tone dissipated as he remembered the shaking girl he encountered just a week ago, “Oh, that's right, how is she?” Namjoon asked, genuinely concerned.

“Better.” Hoseok smiled at his friend, “She starts her new job today, and she's been doing a lot better.”

Namjoon nodded, “When we all met her, she did real well.” He sighed, “Not sure how anyone would ever want to hurt her, but that guy's as good as dead anyway.”

“That much I made sure of.” Hoseok confirmed.

“Jeez, you sound like Tae and Jimin.” Namjoon laughed.

“Just you wait until it's your turn.” Hoseok teased as they reached the conference room to be met with the other five of his friends which was weird since three of them were not higher-ups in the company.

“And I thought this was a director only meeting.” Namjoon mused.

“She said she wanted her favorite boys here.” Taehyung smiled, “This new hire seems to have her struck, said she sees em as another child already.”

“She's too caring for her own good sometimes, watch this dude be some discount medium who claims he can read aura's.” Yoongi scoffed.

“She's not one to be wowed by parlor tricks.” Jin pointed out.

“She has been on morphine for the past couple days though.” Jungkook pointed out.

“You guys give her no credit.” Jimin sighed, “She's still a businesswoman.”

“But she's also a human who extended Hoseok's holiday leave because so that he could stay with his angel.” Yoongi chimed back in.

“Well, I'm excited nonetheless.” Hoseok sat down as Namjoon did before hearing the door open.

CEO Kim walked in with a warm smile, “Hello, boys!” The old woman in her late 60's cheered and was met with a chorus of greetings, “Lovely of you all to make it here. I've been healing just fine before you ask.” She looked at Taehyung in particular, “Gonna take more than some kidney surgery to get me down.” She joked with a light giggle, “Anyways, I'm absolutely pleased to introduce our new addition to HR as the Employment Analyst," She looked out the door, “Come on in, dear.”

You walked through the door, palms already warm. You looked down for a moment, “Good morning!” You lifted your head only to be met with awfully familiar faces, “Oh my.”

“Y/n!” Jungkook was the first to chirp as the other men were completely floored.

The CEO smiled cheerfully, “You know her? Perfect!” She clasped her hands, “My dear here has had a rough adjustment, so do make her feel welcome!” You graciously smiled at the sweet old woman.

“H-Hey guys.” You twiddled your thumbs, “Fancy meeting you here.” You smiled weakly. 

“Y/n, here is a student and is here to help our HR find and keep only the best of the best.” The CEO beamed brightly, “Anyways, she will be working will be working for Mr. Jung.”

You looked at Hoseok and he gave you his signature smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

After the meeting was adjourned, Hoseok made his way to you with the same smile he had before, "You're fantastic." He patted your head affectionately and you giggled.

"You're too much." You stuck your tongue out, "I'm going to go set up my office." You smiled before exiting the conference room with quaint smiles and bows to the remaining 6 other men in the room. The company was eccentric, to say the least, but at least you had familiar faces to rely on.

"You know, you are surprisingly relaxed." Yoongi mused, catching Hoseok's attention.

Hoseok was even then, only partly paying attention as he was caught up in his lovelorn bliss, "Well, of course, why wouldn't I be?" He sighed.

The other men exchanged looks, "Do you not know your reputation?" This snatched Hoseok back to Earth.

"Yeah, she's definitely going to find out," Jungkook added, earning a glare.

Even so, Hoseok knew the men were right. You would not be pleased to find out about his promiscuity, especially in the workplace. You would have every right to be angry, but he still hoped you would understand that he was only trying to fill a void he created by abandoning you. He was a new man.

"That, plus you have secretaries to interview today." Taehyung chimed in, "My darling was kind enough to call them in after Jiyeon called me, hysterical, before quitting." He shot a glare to Hoseok.

"Actually, I think y/n's first task is to interview said, ladies." Namjoon fought the emerging smile on his face as Hoseok nearly went pale.

Jimin spoke this time, "Hobi?" He caught the man's attention, "Run."

Needing no further instruction, he made a dash for the elevator.

"Oh, hello." You caught the attention of a beautiful chestnut-haired woman, "Can I help you?" You smiled at her as you carried a box to your office adjacent to Hoseok's.

She scanned your form before letting her guard down. You should've been offended by how quickly she wrote you off as a non-threat, but you let it go, "I'm looking for Jung Hoseok." She flashed you a smile, a very fake one judging by the stiffness in her face.

You shook off the insecurity planting itself in your psyche before it could latch, "He's in a meeting, but I'm a new worker in this department so I could-"

"They hired you?!" She quickly cut you off, "I didn't even get a chance to interview yet, and they gave the assistant position to you?!" She threw her hands up before her eyes landed on the ring you were, "Wow, are taken women his thing, or something?" She sneered. You felt your throat close in panic and rage all at once. You watched in hidden horror as her face seemed to morph into Minyoung's. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and replaced it with a quaint smile, a very fake one, "Actually, I'm the new Employment Analyst." You quipped, "I believe I'm your interviewer in fact." The woman went pale, "I'm still setting up my office, but you are very punctual, I'll give you that." You smiled at her, "I am nothing if not fair, so if you would like to take a seat while I set up, I'll be right with you." You gestured to the chairs outside the door to your office and she took the seat slowly. You closed the door behind you, stalking to your desk to place the box on top of the mahogany only to slump down into a crouched position with an exasperated sigh.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in, blowing it out through pursed lips to prevent yourself from hyperventilating, "Get it together." You curse yourself. It had maybe been 10 minutes and you were already hiding under your desk, "Fuck, why did I think I could do this?" You closed your eyes in defeat when the door slammed open, startling you.

"Y/n!" Hoseok's voice caused you to internally panic and hit your head under the desk.

"Shit!" You scolded the pain, "I-Is my interviewee still out there?" You wondered aloud as Hoseok rushed to your side.

"I sent them home." He sighed before lifting you to sit on your chair and wordlessly began to guide you through your breathing, just as he had a million times before, just as he had when you were still in high school and especially in the last month.

You worked through the breathing and felt yourself seethe. You were more frustrated than angry, but still angry. Why did this random girl affect you so terribly? Why did Hoseok send her home? Why couldn't you just keep it the fuck together?

"Well, I suggest you leave," You sighed out as your chest rose and fell at its usual pace, "I have more coming."

"You can just cancel them." Hoseok shook his head at the thought of you interviewing a shamefully specific demographic of women he hired, "I want to find the candidates on my own." 

You studied his face. His lips were pursed, eyes were looking at your cheek, not eyes, and his grip on your shoulder had noticeably stiffened. Your face scrunched in disappointment, "Why? It seems they all fit your credentials." You spat, more bitter than you intended before sighing again as silence befell the two of you. You shut your eyes for a moment to gather your thoughts before opening them halfway to look down at your hands clasped together tightly, "I can't do it again, Hoseok." You muttered softly, "I'm not stupid, I know what you do in this office, but I can't do that again."

He met your eyes this time, obviously worried, "What do you mean?" His brows furrowed.

"Be the afterthought." You bit out, "I will not compete with all these women and end up…" exactly like yourself. You swallowed your last words because they would hurt the both of you too much.

"Angel, I would never-"

"Just go, okay?" You forced yourself to say, not looking at him, "It's my first day of work and we've already breached professionalism." You breathed out with your lips pursed, "I have interviews to do." You looked at Hoseok and he didn't meet your eyes as he left, dejected.

The interviews went terribly for both parties you would say. Most of these women had no experience being an Administrative LLP Assistant and if they did, they walked out on their last jobs. A lot of the women were quite kind, after noticeably sizing you up, but then you had some women who thought they could interview you as well. It was awfully reminiscent of when you first encountered Minyoung. 

By the end of the interviews, you felt like your eyes were beginning to cross as your tongue began to sting. It wasn't a real sting. This much was confirmed when your neck also began to sting and you let out a shaky breath. You stared at the excel sheet of employee evaluations and found yourself wondering if you would be able to work at home.

You shook off the very fantasy since you barely had a home to begin with. You needed to look for a place. Your heart squeezed at the thought and you put your hand on your chest. You felt stupid for wanting to leave Hoseok, but you also felt stupid for wanting to stay with a man who had such a specific and insatiable taste. 

The day dragged on and you actively avoided Hoseok when your lunch rolled around. You opted for a granola bar at your desk and it was just as indignifying as you thought it would be. Your job turned out to be mostly excel sheets and productivity reports and it wasn't until Hoseok knocked on your door that you realized it was time to go home- Hoseok's home.

The car ride was painfully and noticeably silent in the beginning. You didn't look at Hoseok and he couldn't bear to meet your eyes as the driver even looked uncomfortable. It wasn't until you realized you were at Hoseok's place that you even moved.

You dragged your feet to the door as the day's event swirled in your head. The women reminded you scarily of yourself, pining after someone who would never pine after them. Some of them were rings too and you wondered if it was because their home life was like yours had been. Had they just wanted to feel desired for once? Who are you to judge them when your ex is piecing together the life your ex-fiance destroyed. How are you any better than them with Hoseok? 

Even if you love him, it doesn't mean he loves you or doesn't plan on finding more thrilling endeavors outside of the lovely little home he keeps you at just like Sookwang had.

The bile in your throat pushed itself against you at the very thought and when Hoseok opened the door, you ran to the bathroom, hand over your mouth.

He quickly ran after you only to see you on your knees in front of the toilet as you heaved a cried. Immediately, he held back your hair as you hurled your guts, thoughts, fears, and sadness out of your body after holding them in for a day. It hadn't been the first time you've thrown up with Hoseok present, so he knew exactly how to clean you up as you cried.

However, this time, you gripped his dress shirt, surely causing wrinkles, and looked at him, "Please don't leave me." Your bottom lip quivered, "I can't, I can't be alone, I'm so sorry." You cried into his chest as he rocked you back and forth, "You're-You're all I…" You let out another sob

"I'm all you have." He mused and you nodded, "Just as you are all I have." You hiccuped and he kissed your head, "I've loved you for years, I will not be stopping, whether you like it or not." He stroked your hair as he closed your eyes.

He should kill Sookwang. He's never been so sure of himself. Hoseok clutched you closer to him as you shook violently. He should kill Sookwang for not only hurting you but for making you so distrusting of everyone, even him. The love of your life. Sookwang instead would spend his life in prison- or lack of life. It was merciful, Hoseok should rip him to shreds and let you do the same to Minyoung. However, the only thing more important than doing that was having you as his, at last.

He was all you had finally. It would remain that way.

After an hour of breathing exercises and mouthwash, you were in your bedroom. You stared up at the ceiling and yet, all you could see was Hoseok's face. You cursed yourself for this. It was like you were back in high school again. You were embarrassed by how easily you fell for him again especially after what Sookwang did. You closed your eyes and moted how warm you felt just thinking about all Hoseok has done for you. 

You weren't an idiot. You had dated him before. You knew he was terrified of a commitment then, but now, it almost seemed as if he craved it. It was a complete turnaround. It wasn't healthy. Logically, you knew that, right? You knew that this connection was obsessive on a good day, but he made you feel so safe. Your first day at work went terribly and you had just wished to go home to Hoseok's loving arms. Instead, your mind had morphed him into Sookwang.

Hoseok was the opposite, however. Sookwang had been sheltered and starved, so he settled for you as a wife and other women as a lover. Hoseok, however merely settled for one night stands in search of stability. He was loving and attentive, maybe a little too much. Even so, he hadn't brought home any women, or left your side, in the past month. He only ever seemed to look at you while you tried to assess your situation. 

You weren't ready for a relationship, you thought. But how the hell do you know what's good for you? 

Look at your past logical decisions, such as getting engaged. Maybe Hoseok knew what's best for you. Maybe you knew that wasn't healthy. Maybe you didn't care.

If you were going to regret this, you were going to have to do it first.

You sat up, letting the covers fall off your body as you ripped them off your legs. Before you could even begin to dissect your mindset, your legs carried you in front of Hoseok's door. It was already in the evening. You wondered if he was going to make dinner or leave you alone for the night. Should you not bother him? You shook your head before bringing your wrist up to knock on the door.

It had been the softest knocks Hoseok had heard in his life. His eyebrows scrunched together. Had he forgotten the cleaning lady was coming today? He could've sworn she comes Tuesday mornings?

"Come in." He nodded towards the closed door as it opened ever so cautiously.

He immediately sat up as soon as he saw it was you, "Hey, Hobi." You smiled at him shyly. 

Hoseok visibly relaxed as he gestured with a flick of his wrist for you to come near him. You walked over to his bed, "Sorry to intrude." You offered wearily, as he guided you to sit next to him, "I just…" You drew in a breath, as his arm wrapped around your waist Before I say anything, I just need to know what you want." His head tilted to the side in confusion now laying down next to his seated form and you groaned in frustration, "Do you...want me?" You forced out and it seemed he finally understood what you were trying to figure out. He leaned over you with a smile.

"I love you if that's what you're getting at." Your breath hitched at his boldness, "Don't act like you didn't know."

It was your turn to be confused as the man of your teenage and adult dreams leaned over you with a satisfied smirk, "You only said it that one time and I didn't think that you…" You avoided eye contact, "Would want used goods." 

He gripped your chin in an instant for you to see his jaw clenched and stern eyes, "I wish you could see what I see." He closed his eyes, letting his irritation diffuse as he leaned closer to you, "What no one else deserves to see." He hovered over your lips.

You were hypnotized by the passion and found yourself left with no option but to grip both sides of his face and bring him down to you. His lips connected with yours slowly at first but it quickly grew into a frenzied expression of how starved you both were to be craved by the other. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his wrapped around your waist. He moved you to where he was laid in between your legs and you gasped when his pelvis had accidentally brushed against yours. 

Hoseok broke away from the kiss for a moment, lips swollen and chest heaving, "Fuck, baby, I better go get dinner started before we end up doing something that-"

You pouted at this, causing Hoseok to immediately halt at the sight, "Hobi," You whined as you gripped his bicep, "Don't you want me?" You batted your eyelashes at him as his resolve crumbled.

"More than anything, angel." He was quick to say as he dipped his head down to place light kisses on your neck.

"So show me." You breathed and it was like something snapped in him.

He gripped your hip with a determined squeeze as his mouth opened eider to harshly suck the skin of your neck between his teeth. You groaned at the sensation, heat quickly pooling between your thighs. The hand on your hip reached up as he began to unbutton the lavender blouse. He had never touched you like this before, so when the shirt left you open, only a bra of the same color shielding you, he had to pull back to look at you for a moment. He studied every mole, freckle, or mark he could see as he slipped the shirt from your shoulders. He kissed down your stomach as he made quick work of the slacks he bought you, nearly salivating at how close he was to your clothed entrance. 

You arched your back, obedient as ever when his hands caressed your waist, sliding behind to unhook your bra. He let out a shaky breath when your top half became full bare. His hands gripped them both, softly pinching both nipples as you let out a mewl that spurred him to lean down, taking one of the buds into his mouth, tongue encircling it as your back arched again while you let out a whine. The sensation of his mouth and hands shooting straight to the area where you wanted them most. He let his teeth graze the bud before sucking and you could no longer suppress the moan that was clawing at your throat. He let the nipple go with a lewd pop as he studied your body again before moving to caress your hips and thighs. He watched the flesh squish under his touch and you squirmed a bit, "So fucking beautiful." He breathed, transfixed by your nearly bare body.

"Hobi." You whined, as his eyes wen to your heated face. Your bottom lip was caught in your teeth as your thighs shifted beneath him.

"Yes, my love?" He mused as he slid the last piece of fabric you had down your legs, watching as your pussy became exposed to him. Your breath hitched when he spread your legs as his fingers went to spread you, "Do you want me to taste you?" He hummed, mouth mere millimeters away from your opening.

You pet out a breathy moan at the anticipation, "Yes, yes, please." You huffed out only for the very breath to be stolen as his tongue dove at your sex like a man starved. 

Hoseok had never expected you to be so needy, each time his tongue moved you would whine out, wanting more and more. Never did he fine eating someone out to be so erotic as he did with his hands keeping you in place as your upper body twisted in pleasure. You would squeak when his tongue would dance around your hole, tempting him to finally plunge it in. He felt how tight you were and was instantly addicted to the feeling of you around him. He fucked you with his tongue as he let you move your hips to meet the thrusts of the muscle. He almost brought a hand to play with your clit but opted to make you cum with his mouth alone.

You had never been eaten out like this before. You could hardly keep up with Hoseok or the sensations he gave you as he entered you with his tongue. Never in your life have you felt so euphoric, the sensation sent tingles down your body and straight to your clit which he flicked with a stiffened tongue before you could even blink. A long-forgotten coil began to tighten in the pit of your stomach as he spread you as wide as you could go, his hands on your knees as he sucked on your clit, tongue still ruthless as it explored your pussy. You could hear him nearly slurp. You normally would be embarrassed, but all you could feel was what Hoseok gave you, and you wanted more. 

As if he read your mind, Hoseok began a ruthless rhythm of long-stroke that brought you closer and closer each time until you let loose with a scream of pleasure, your body shaking as you came. Hoseok placed a kiss on your clit that made your hips jump, "Hobi, fuck me." You breathed out, chest heaving as you crept down from the enormous high. The man hesitated, fully intent on letting you rest and taking care of himself in the bathroom. He was ready to tell you this until you let out another cute whine, "Please, babe, I want you to make love to me." You whined out and how could he possibly say no?

"I can't say no to you, baby, that's not fair." He spoke, eyes lidded as he stripped himself at lighting speed, moving his length along your slit as he groaned lowly at the contact. When he pressed the head against your entrance and you moaned lightly he nearly blew his load. By the time he slid all the way in, he had to take a moment to collect his thoughts. He looked down at you, eyes barely open and mouth panting. He then watched himself as he slid slowly in and out, his hardened member eventually all the way in your tight walls, "You're so beautiful." He groaned as he set a slow pace, "I love you so much." He leant down to kiss you as he fucked you gently and when you moaned into his mouth he couldn't help but speed up.

"Hobi." You moaned out sweetly for him as he fucked you, "Feels so good." You gasped out as your hands went to press him closer to you as he ground deeper into, more desperate. You could feel the bed shaking as he sped up more and more, calculated thrusts now becoming sloppy as you could feel another orgasm on the edge of breaking free.

He could tell you were close to as you squeezed him, "You gonna cum again for me, angel?" You gasped, nearly squealing as you squeezed around him, cumming hard enough to send him over the edge, "Fuck, fuck!" He moaned in pure ecstasy as he came inside of you, riding out the highs you both shared.

"I love you." You mumbled through tired lips pressed against his ears. He slowly slid out of you and that's as far as you remember before passing out.

You woke up with soft lips against your shoulder as the early morning peeked through the curtains. Your eyes slowly opened as they flicked around to find Hoseok in your peripherals, "Oh, you're awake." He mumbled, mouth still trailing over your bare skin.

"Mmph." You murmured, turning over, "Good morning." You placed a lazy kiss on his toned chest as you nuzzled into him.

The sleepy chuckle he let out vibrated in his chest, "What do you say we work from home today, hm?" 

Your eyes snapped open immediately as you shot up, "Work! I forgot!" You exclaimed as your eyes darted across the room looking for a clock, "I can't just not come in on my second day I-"

"Baby-"

"I must look like such a slacker! I can't believe I-"

"Angel, I-"

"How did I not set my alarms before I just went to sleep all willy nilly?! It's mmph-" Soft lips landed on your own as you melted into the kiss in spite of your moment of panic. His lips massaged yours until he felt your naked form relax on his own. 

This was all he needed. He was all you needed. This moment was the epitome of what it meant to be reborn in the arms of someone else. It was always meant to be this way. He was an idiot for thinking you were anything less than his soulmate. He was a fool for looking for comfort when he should've been looking for you all these years.

Once he felt your body fully depend on him, he broke the kiss ever so slowly, "It's 6:00am." He mumbled against your mouth, "I'm offering to have us both work from home today, so I can let the office know I will be conducting your orientation off-site." The smirk that twinkled on the corner of his mouth did not go unnoticed by you before you nodded. 

You watched with twinkling eyes as Hoseok made the call. You laid your head on his bare chest as you heard the rumble of his deep voice making orders to accommodate for his absence, "Hobi," You murmured when he hung up the phone, "Were you ever expecting to see me again?"

The hand he had stroking your hair faltered as his heart sank at the mention of the past. He was an idiot to be scared enough to ruin things with you. He was a fool to deny himself the bliss of loving you back, "No, not at first." He spoke honestly, "But I missed you every day." You smiled at this while he stroked your hair, "Something was missing in my life, and I tried to find it in other women when I was too scared to look for you."

"Oh, I hated you so much." You stifled a laugh.

"You said you could never!" Hoseok huffed as you leaned your head up to look at his pouting face.

"Not real hate, babe." You smiled softly, "I mean heartbreak hate." You mused, "I never wanted to see you again, but I never stopped wondering about you, and when I moved to South Korea, and especially when I was with… you know, I let my mind wander to how we could've been." 

"Well, it's me and you now and forever, angel." He placed a kiss on your forehead, "Nothing will ever come between us again, not even ourselves." Hoseok spoke with determination you were smart enough to know the implications of. Not that you had plans to ever leave, but even if you had they would be for naught. You knew his power. You were sure he only scratched the surface with Sookwang. It should scare you.

"I know you won't let it, even if anything tried." You breathed, blissful as he pulled you in for a passionate kiss. It wasn't healthy how he thrilled you. How much you loved being so secure in his arms, even if he was also securing you within his clutches. Chains or not, they were much too comfortable for you to object. You had the autonomy you wanted. You had everything you needed at the snap of a finer. Sookwang gave you hell and Hoseok led you to the pearly gates.

You weren't dumb enough to overlook the resounding clink as you were locked in heaven with the man you loved. 

The very man who finally loved you back.

Ko-fi

Masterlist

#yandere bts #bts fanfic #jung hoseok fanfic #bts smut #yandere hoseok #bts angst #bts fluff #bts oneshot #hoseok smut #jhope smut #jhope fanfic #yandere smut

[fromthefishbowl]

People who complain about Ao3 don’t remember what sites like ff.net were like

Every few months, a bright-minded Tumblr blogger peeps up with the never-heard-before: “Ao3 is a completely amoral site. If they want to prove to us they have a moral backbone, then they need to purge X, Y, and Z tags, and then create a team of mods who will regularly check the stories that are reported because since now there aren’t tags that tell the readers about X, Y, and Z, these goddamn perverts will slip through the cracks and create toxic environment in which children shouldn’t be” take, and the posts routinely receive thousands of notes.

Well... let me tell you how things actually work on sites that don’t use tags but have a team of mods that checks the authors and stories that are being reported.

I’m a fandom old: even if I’m young, I began reading and writing fanfics back in September/October 2012. I’ve used a site that was basically ff.net’s twin, Wattpad, and then Ao3. I was there, when Wattpad slowly turned into a money-making farm and implemented micro-transactions and ads. I have seen how these platforms evolved and who they were protecting, and it really doesn’t matter how much you whine and complain about Ao3, but it’s the only platform that actually protects both its writers and readers in equal measure.

According to the many theories made by people who have already forgotten how actually lawless fanfiction sites were, having mods would solve all the problems regarding the “moral issues” presented by Ao3. In their opinion, mods would be these perfect creature who never take sides and are always impartial, ready to defend ThE cHiLdReN from the evil, amoral content. They’d scrub the site clean from the “toxic” and “dangerous” content in order to create a wholesome environment where parents and kids alike can happily frolic together.

In truth? Nothing about mods ever worked like that. No one is able to be completely impartial, and some people only need to be given an ounce of power to lose their minds and do as they please.

On the site similar to ff.net, people were encouraged to report all the stories that didn’t strictly follow the rules of the site, including the ones where the spelling wasn’t as great as it should’ve been. It wasn’t rare to find that users had reported an account or a story simply out of revenge, because said author hadn’t commented their work favorably. If you were a fandom favorite with a lot of readers, it was also possible to find in your DM box people asking you to report and ask your readers to report someone, even if you had to make up things in order for the report to go through.

Thankfully, mods were extremely lethargic (I love the idea that people think that they’d act briskly and not sleuth around the site, posting stories with their modding accounts in order to receive a higher number of comments), so most reports ended up in stand-by, catching proverbial dust, for years and years, until everybody forgot about the report itself as well as the story, the author, and whatever had happened there.

But when they acted? Ooooh, and here’s the interesting part, because there were three options!

The story was taken down, the account banned, and the only thing left of them would be a notice from the mods that they had been stricken because they had done this, this, and a little bit of that too. But do you know who was usually hit, by this? Smaller writers, writers whose stories didn’t pull in a lot of views and comments, people who were “forgettable”. It also happened a lot with writers who would put themselves against bigger authors by writing negative reviews for their stories;

The mods closed an eye because the people and storied reported where at the top of their category in a very trafficked fandom. There was a case in which people were so distressed by the presence of a very specific story (Jewish girl falls in love with the Nazi guard that abuses her while she’s in a concentration camp), that the headmistress of the site had to write a special comment that could be viewed by all the people who were going to review that story that said that there was no reason to leave a negative review nor to report it to the mods, as it followed the rules of the site (it didn’t, but it brought in a lot of views and attention to the platform, so... it could stay!);

The mods would hunt the authors on their social medias too and ban them from the site because they’d been rude. It happened more than once, that an author was reported or they were the ones reporting, and have found themselves submersed in insults by members of the mod team on their Facebook page. Two cases:

An author was accused of having plagiarized a story written by another, more famous, user. The author denied, and asked for proof of it. The mod taking care of the case didn’t offer any, but deleted their story and blocked their account until they said they were sorry to the more famous user. In order to have their account back, the author said they were sorry to the famous user, but on their Facebook page wrote that it was a crock of shit: they hadn’t copied from that person, and the fact that the mod hadn’t offered any proof of it was suspicious enough. The mod saw that Facebook post, sent them a DM with nothing but insults, and then banned them permanently because they had been rude to the administration;

An author posted a story, and two other users plagiarized it. The author reported both stories and waited a week for the mods to send them a DM telling them to screenshot all the passages that had been copied and put them all in a document because they didn’t have time to read three different stories. Although the author complied, they wrote a post complaining about this lousy job on Facebook. The post caught the eye of another moderator who blocked their account and told them they wouldn’t have had access to the site unless they apologized to the entire team of mods, to the users they had accused of plagiarizing their story, and took down the Facebook post. In the meanwhile, the first mod was caught chatting with one of the two other users on the forum. The author didn’t back down for another two weeks, when the headmistress of the site herself showed up and told them she would’ve been the one to take care of the question. In the end, although it was clear that the two users had copied the author’s story, the author still received nasty and threatening messages from the entire mod team because of that Facebook post, to the point that they decided to delete their stories and their account altogether and move to another platform.

This is what happens with mods that are always asked to answer to reports and to take care of stories personally: authors are not protected against anything unless they are big enough to be an attraction people subscribe to the platform for. Fics with “moral backbone” issues were left up if they had the views and the comments for it.

And the readers? Well, the readers used to get the short end of the stick too, as those sites didn’t have a tag system and there wasn’t a way for them to know if a story contained something they didn’t like to read about, nor a way for them to “obscure” the ones that did. Finding specific things was a mess too.

This to say: you need to curate your own fandom experience. You are in charge of what you read, and it’s not my place to take care of the children and make sure that everything they put their saintly eyes upon is wholesome. Ao3 is the only platforms that allows the readers to have an absolutely complete control of what they consume and that allows the writers to warn the readers of every single issue their story can contain that might trouble them. Learn to curate your own fandom experience, rather than spending your time whining about “moral issues” and “think of the children”, coming up with ideas that are simply not doable on a massive site like Ao3.

#ao3 #discourse #fandom experience #purity culture

[tundrainafrica]

I just find it so unfortunate that some aggressive shippers ruin a ship and a character for so many people. A popular Erwin x Levi artist got hate comments by some Levihan shippers and so many people are bashing it now on twitter because of that. Its just so sad considering LH was one of the most beautiful and fun dynamics in such a depressing story. Even Hange is getting hated because LH is pretty much the default ship involving them and it just breaks my heart :(

Twitter has some great content and I actually hang around AOT twt for some quick content. It’s like every time I’m feeling fast food I just hang there, like a few tweets, read a few soc med AUs etc etc. 

But god. It’s a mess man. Last year I was constantly on twitter to be honest and it left me in a bad mood everyday because people are just being assholes for little to no reason really but just to put themselves in what they believe is a morally higher ground from their peers. And people just like fighting and the funny part is no opinions are actually heard, no views are actually exchanged. It’s just “you dont agree with me so you’re a bad person.” 

Ad hominem attacks are just everywhere.

So I like staying in my small little hole and just talking to myself there and just liking the content of the Levihan people I actually follow. I see stuff I don’t agree with but I’ve kinda accepted that a lot of people there are just there to push an agenda because really if people were that open minded, I don’t think lynching and call out culture would have gotten this far.  

I’ve used this same analogy so many times but I feel like in Twitter, people are just scrambling for some sort of moral high ground. Because of that, it is completely useless to engage in discourse there because one thing I noticed is most people who are vocal there already have a set stance on something and the fact that they’re ready to just bully anyone who stands in the way of their agenda, just makes convincing them out of the agenda impossible and a complete waste of time. And there are two issues in particular among the LH community which are really unsettling for me: the ship wars and within the LH community, the gender war. 

Ship wars

I find the ship wars unnecessary because really what makes a superior ship? 

Probability of being canon? How much fuel they were given in canon? Healthiness of the relationship?

The truth is people ship for many reasons. But really, who are we to judge how a person goes about the way they decide to participate in the fandom and ship? As long as it is something they keep within personal spaces and do it responsibly, I don’t think it’s our business to judge someone or lynch them. The important thing is people are able to not be an asshole about it. People can ship the most questionable shit, create the most dubious content, as long as that person is respecting boundaries and putting the right tags and trigger warnings, who are we to call them out right?

Of course I prefer LH over other Levi ships personally but is there really a need to attack other people’s ships about it? I probably do poke fun at Ereri because until now I still do not get why people enjoy Ereri in the first place but why destroy the fandom experience for people just because we don’t agree with them.

My general intention behind shipping Levihan is because above anything I value the healthiness in the relationship and the things people can learn about love and relationships by analyzing Levihan’s dynamics and headcanoning them. I love Levi and Hange’s dynamics to death and I like digging deeper into them and pulling out lessons from it about love, life and relationships and just sharing them with people which is my whole point for participating in this fandom in the first place. 

But in the end, ships are just preferences. Some people like getting a kick out of dubious pairings and toxic relationships. As long as they consume these responsibly and don’t emulate them in real life, I see no problem in it. 

The toxic ones are the ones who actively crucify people for preferences. 

The Gender War

One really disturbing thing I found about twitter is that deciding to use ‘she’ to refer to Hange can get you lynched. I found a few accounts that would reblog tweets where someone says something like “Yes, Hange, Queen” which gets retweeted by some NB Hange folk who say stuff like “Unfollow this transphobe now.” 

Because apparently deciding to headcanon Hange as a woman or just preferring to use ‘she’ makes people a transphobe. Which is personally just... really disturbing. I don’t believe words like homophobic, transphobic, racist should be so easily thrown around unless there is hard evidence to believe that someone is really one of the epithets above like for example: 

There are things I find completely assholish like of course, refusing to use someone’s preferred pronouns if they ask you. 

But Hange is fictional and Hange is a gift to the fandom.And I don’t even think the issue about Hange’s gender should have ever reached this far. The only thing Yams ever said was that Hange is just not the type to be tied down to a single gender. 

And policing Hange’s gender and saying NOPE SHE’S NON BINARY USE THEY Is just counterintuitive to the whole idea that she’s a free spirit. In the end, Hange as a character wouldn’t have given a fuck whether people called her a they, she or even a he. 

And yeah, it’s frustrating really that these two issues I just discussed above are ruining Hange as a character for a lot of people and consequently, ruining Levi x Hange as a ship. 

Apparently, a lot of people are closet LxH shippers or closet Hange stans because the moment they tweet something about Hange, there are people who will attack them. If people refer to Hange as they, they get attacked. If people refer to Hange as she, they get attacked. There are so many antis apparently to the LxH ship, some apparently are jealous because ‘it’s the closest to canon’ while others just apparently deem it a toxic ship because of our own internal gender war.  

There’s no winning really. And to be honest, there’s nothing I can do either and I don’t want to engage in any arguments in twitter if at the end of it, I’m just gonna end up wasting my time listening to ad hominem attacks directed at me just for not agreeing with someone in a fandom related matter. . 

I’ve said my piece about the Hange gender issue so many times. There are NBs who use she. There are those who use they. Being female and being NB aren’t mutually exclusive. You can be both at the same time.

But yeah, we still have people being assholes about this and pushing factually wrong agendas. I love research and I have been writing research papers and metas for a lot of things even before I started this blog in the first place. And I eventually learned that the world is so complex that no opinion is completely and absolutely correct. 

And ideally, opinions shouldn’t be made so easily. 

Don’t get me wrong. I believe everyone is entitled to a preference and when I say preference I mean the type of food they like, the type of wallpaper they like. 

But no one is entitled to a moral judgement or opinion just for existing and when I say opinion I mean questions on morals, on what’s right or what isn’t, what is or what should be. Every single person has the responsibility to research, hear both sides of a discourse and understanding them before deciding for themselves what’s right. And this is why hearing accusations that someone is ‘transphobic,’ ‘homophobic’ blah blah over how we hc a character just really does not sit well with me. 

Passing moral judgement on someone requires discernment, deep thought and lots and lots of evidence. But yeah this is a philosophical question and a political question so I ain’t going to delve into it here.

Because, in the end, fandoms are preferences. The way we choose to participate in a fandom and create content are preferences more than anything.

So what? (Btw, if you reached all the way here, thank you for listening to me ramble lol and sorry if you weren’t expecting this type of ramble)

I know I’ve just been rambling a lot up there for a lot of reasons but really what message do I wanna give? 

Fandoms are preferences more than anything so I don’t even believe that there should be a discussion on moral judgement here. People can have the weirdest kinks, the most questionable preferences but as long as they aren’t going around romanticizing abuse, beating up people in real life, killing them and lying in real life, who are we to judge?

Even if someone says they have a rape kink and abuse kink when it comes to fics, as long as they acknowledge it’s something they shouldn’t emulate in real life, as long as they can keep an adult conversation about it, I think these people are generally kinder and more pleasant overall than people who force their healthy canon ship and lynch everyone for having more questionable preferences. 

Ship and let ship. Live and let live. Headcanon and let headcanon. If a person has a differing opinion, listen. (Or really, if you just don’t want to deal with listening to differing opinions coz you’re just gonna get stressed, don’t lynch? Don’t send hate? And just ignore it?)

Ask yourself. Does the person acknowledge that it isn’t right in real life? Do they acknowledge if they emulate it in real life it has the potential to be harmful?

Honestly, all I wanna do is just let people stan Levi and Hange however they want to. There are obviously hcs I dont agree with. But in the LH community we just all love Levihan, let’s not ruin the fandom experience for anyone. In the AOT community, we all just love AOT, let’s not ruin it for anyone. Let’s not hurt anyone, attack them etc. 

If someone doesn’t agree and they can hold an adult conversation about it and they don’t emulate these toxic opinions in real life and they recognize that there is the option to just agree to disagree, why don’t we just listen and engage in this discourse to learn more about other people and to build more perspectives?

Because really it isn’t the questionable hcs or the multiple genders which leaves such a bad taste in my mouth. It’s the people who just go straight to attacking instead of actually considering that there’s potential for discourse and there’s potential to ‘agree to disagree’ because in the end, fandom discourse is a question of preference more than moral judgement. 

It’s easier said than done really. But personally for me, I just try to keep my fandom experience as non toxic as possible while at the same time as mentally fulfilling as possible. I enjoy discourse, I like hearing differing opinions and I really believe with something as light and as inconsequential as fandoms as our common ground, we can learn to peacefully co-exist despite differing opinions on what the best ship is or what Hange’s gender is. 

Note: I won’t delve too much on the Hange gender issue here because I have pending asks about those which I’ll answer in one go, but I really believe that both they and she are valid pronouns for Hange. 

I have a general preference for ‘she’ because it’s just easier to read. But personally I don’t think too much about the gender identity issue because it’s really just too complex for me and i like spending my time thinking of other headcanons about Hange than gender and people who push the Hange is nb agenda and people who push the Hange is a female agenda and just insult each other and lynch each other are both equally unsettling. 

[asterekmess]

1-11 Scott/Posey Stans always try to deflect criticism of the way Scott McCall is written in Teen Wolf by claiming that ANY attempt by a fan, a viewer, or a critic of holding Scott to a level of behavior that one would expect of a character who is a main and the self-proclaimed hero of the show is “racism”. Except that their accusations don’t make any sense whatsoever, because Scott’s canonical shitty actions and behavior don’t stem from his race (or canonical lack of thereof.)

Okay hun, this is a doozy, so I’m putting it under a Read More.

2-11 Scott McCall is mean. He’s mean to Stiles, he’s mean to Allison, he’s mean to Derek, he’s mean to Peter, he’s mean to Cora, he’s mean to Lydia, he’s mean to Jackson, he’s mean to Erica, he’s mean to Isaac, he’s mean to Malia, he’s mean to Malia, he’s mean to Kira, he’s mean to Liam, he’s mean to Chris, and he’s even mean to Theo (“You are barely even human!”) Scott McCall is deliberately rude to the Hales, Boyd, Ethan, Danny, Hayden, Jiang, Tierney, and Melissa.

3-11 Scott McCall deliberately USES, INSULTS, HUMILIATES and DEHUMANIZES people in ways that demonstrate that he is fully aware of what he’s doing. Scott McCall deliberately disregards other people’s needs in order to fulfill his own. Tyler Posey being half Mexican doesn’t change the fact that his fictional character Scott McCall is a whiny coward and an abusive piece of trash,

4-11 and that his so called ‘defense squad’ enjoys the power fantasy that Scott can be cruel, can lie, can assault, can lash out, can violate other people’s boundaries, bodily autonomy and consent, can commit premeditated murder, can break the law without impunity, can dehumanize, can gaslight and victim blame his friends to his heart’s content and no one should ever hold it against him

5-11 In both the production and in some Scott supremacist fanfics, there’s often the premise that people are evil and in the wrong if they call Scott out on his bullshit or hold his toxic behavior against him. Take Season 1. As much as the Scott McCall defense squad brigade love framing Stiles and Derek getting shit done and prioritizing people’s life over Scott’s jealous fits and temper tantrums as the height of depravity

6-11 Scott/Posey Stans consciously and steadfastly ignore all the cruel things that Scott says and does throughout the seasons, such as “How much Adderall have you had today?” OR “What are you trying to do?! I just made first line! I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me and everything in my life is perfect! Why are you trying to ruin it?!” OR “The hunters had a reason to slaughter your entire family and pack”

7-11 (As an aside, it’s amazing to me how Fanon rewrites Scott as this brilliant thinker and strategist and mastermind who is so much smarter and better than everyone else in every way even though Canon Scott spends the entirety of Teen Wolf doing absolutely nothing except get his ass handed to him by everyone, whining about wanting to be popular/get his dick wet/play lacrosse, screaming at his friends and girlfriends, being utterly useless when left to his own devices,

8-11 and planning to bite Stiles against his will because he doesn’t know what to do. But I digress.) Or take Season 5. In the rain argument in Lies of Omission (5x09), Scott McCall’s hypocritical, dehumanizing speech to Stiles is one of the meanest, cruelest, most disgusting manipulations I have ever seen a television character deliver to another television character they supposedly cared about. It’s victim blaming and gaslighting at its vilest.

9-11 And, of course, the Scott McCall defense squad focuses exclusively on the idea that Stiles didn’t behave “the right way” in that scene (AKA taking Scott’s bullshit without clapping back like Scott wanted and demanded), and cannot entertain for one moment the idea that Scott provoked that response by dehumanizing Stiles and by accusing Stiles of being a violent, dangerous, inhuman monster and serial killer based on Theo’s words alone.

10-11 After all, it’s part of their power fantasy. Scott being “abandoned” and “mistreated” by his “ungrateful” friends serves another type of fantasy: the poor oppressed martyr. It doesn’t matter why Scott is abandoned or who is leaving Scott, it’s all about Scott McCall’s right to own people and demand his friends’ love, friendship, loyalty, sympathy, forgiveness, obedience and devotion without having to account for his own abusive behavior.

11-11 And that’s Scott Stans’ point: Only Scott McCall Is Important and Damn Derek/Stiles/Liam/Other Teen Wolf character for having a life and motivations that don’t revolve around Scott! To them (and to Canon Scott), the pack exists not to serve all its members, but to serve and validate Scott McWhinyCall. Because, after all, that’s what antis want for themselves – validation in the face of shortcomings and bad behavior.

Wow, that was a lot of anger. Do you feel any better after venting that? I really hope so, it honestly looks p cathartic. Okay, I apologize in advance if I don’t come across as quite so passionate, I’m kinda bleh today and I already used up all my righteous fury in an earlier post, so I’ll do my best.

I honestly understand the worry about people disliking Scott as having racist motivations. As I said in another post, there aren’t a lot of Latino (wait, I read somewhere to use latine? Should I use that instead? I’ll use that, someone correct me if I’m wrong. The thing also said latinx was not great bc of pronunciation issues? I’m not educated enough on this. Halp, please.) Latine protagonist characters in popular television, especially for teen dramas like Teen Wolf. Intentional or not, written into the show or not, Scott is half-latine. His mother is a latine woman. We don’t see them speak spanish or take part in any specific cultural traditions, but that doesn’t make him white. Yes, his character was written for a white guy, but Tyler Posey is the one who got the part and we can’t strip him of his heritage just because the show originally meant for Scott to be white. My husband is almost always mistaken for white, even though he’s also half-latine, but that doesn’t make him any less latine. There’s little enough representation as it is, and if we start being picky about whether characters were ‘intended’ or ‘written’ as POC, everything will just fall to shit. Plus, as a white person, I have literally no rights to decide that Scott’s white. I’m cool with that. Would prefer to just stay in my lane, if I’m honest. With Scott established as being a POC, it’s totally reasonable for other POC and fans of Scott to be worried that those of us who don’t like him have that opinion because of either passive or active racism. There are a lot of occasions where Protags of Color were either liked less, or actively disliked for just being ‘not white.’ It also doesn’t help that Scott is one of very few “good” Characters of Color in TW (whether we agree or not, he is presented as a ‘good guy’). We have Boyd, who dies in 3A and doesn’t get much character developement in the meantime, and Kira, who sticks around for a while, then has to leave because of ‘losing control’ which is apparently a very common stereotype for POC, especially within Fantasy or Supernatural settings. Other than them, the other POC are either bad guys or just morally dubious. I’m not sure where Deaton falls on the scale either. I understand it being frustrating to some people for us to take one of the few “good’ characters and see him/describe him as a villain. It’s important for white people, and honestly, anyone not latine (because even POC can be racist against people who aren’t their race) to be self-aware and analyze the various reasons why we dislike Scott and make sure that we aren’t accidentally being passively racist. Just because we’re sure we aren’t, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t double check. And if we find we are, then it’s up to us to correct that mindset and educate ourselves. There is no shame in learning that you have not great habits or mindsets and working to fix them. That’s how growth works. It’s equally important that when we’re writing fic, we watch how we portray him and the other POC in the show. I’m not saying we can’t write Scott bashing fic. Fuck knows that I’ve written plenty of Bad Friend Scott McCall fic, and I don’t intend to stop. But we still need to be self-critical and make sure that we’re not writing Scott (or the others, please assume from here on out I’m saying Scott and the others) into racist stereotypes. We shouldn’t reduce him to just a “Yes” man, or make him constantly submissive, or constantly vicious and angry and mean for no reason. It’s one thing to write him as doing something bad or cruel and making it realistic for the story. It’s quite another to have him just randomly pop in to say “fuck you” and hit someone (I’m not referencing something specific here, I’m just saying dumb stuff). Honestly, I don’t know enough about this and I’m not really entitled to go into too much more detail. Instead, I’d recommend that even if you don’t think you’re hating Scott for racist reasons, still read This Post about racism in fandom/fanfic. When I read it, it was both reassuring and intimidating. I have anxiety, so I’m usually worried about doing things for ‘the wrong reason’ even when that’s not actually my reason for doing the thing. Reading this gave me a clearer view of my own thoughts, and it honestly made me feel a little more comfortable with my own mentality because it gave me a structure to think about and consider when I’m worried that I’m doing something racist. It’s worth the read. I’d also like to reiterate the suggestion on that post, to check out the blog Writing with Color, which is a great resource for writing Characters of Color. It doesn’t have as many resources for fanfiction writing and the grey area involved in writing characters that your reader already knows, but their ask box is closed at the moment, so maybe when it opens again someone’ll send in an ask about it (If I actually remember to, I’ll do it myself, but that’s unlikely, so if one of you feels so inspired, please do so and help a fic writer out!)

Now. I cannot speak for every single fan of TW who is anti-Scott in some way. Obviously not. But, I can speak for myself and for the experiences I’ve had within the fandom. My issues with Scott are many and complex and a lot of it is intrinsically connected to issues with the writing of the show in general and with the creators and the calls they made. In all the conversations that I’ve had with other fans, I’ve never seen anyone list Scott’s race as a problem. I’ve never seen anyone talk about how they wished he were more submissive or more obedient. Maybe that he would listen to actual adults once in a while, but not that he be unreasonably obedient of white characters. I’m not all-knowing on the subject of racist stereotypes, but nearly every complaint I’ve seen was based on details from the show and specific moments and dialogue, not just a general disgust with his existence. Furthermore, for all the anger I see directed at those of us that prefer Stiles, Derek, or even Peter, I’ve also never talked to anyone who liked those characters who wasn’t willing to admit that there were plenty of points in canon where they fucked up or did something wrong. Again, I don’t know everyone in fandom, so maybe there are people who won’t admit those things, but they aren’t in the majority.

I personally hate the way I see Scott treat people in the show. I hate the really vicious things he says and does and the chronic lack of self-awareness or growth. Even worse, the way the show excuses his behavior, be it intentional or not, has soured a lot of other parts of the show. The clearly impulsive moments that could easily be excused by him being a really stressed out teenager make me a lot more frustrated than they would, had I not known that he would never get better. That he would never stop saying things like that. I can’t even make myself enjoy the genuinely sweet moments with him and Allison or him and his mom, etc. I might hate that he left Stiles’ messages unanswered and skipped an entire day of school during a crisis to hang out with Allison, but I would’ve liked to enjoy their banter, the soft moments between them that are actually really nice. I can’t though, because so many other things about his character have ruined that for me.

It isn’t okay to attack people for disliking a character and throw around such charged words like “racist” and “abuse-apologist” or anything else. First off, this is fiction, and we all need to keep that in mind. These are not real people we’re talking about. Secondly, calling someone racist because they disagree with you (unless they are actively saying/doing something actually racist) isn’t okay and it isn’t an adult way to deal with things. Someone not liking a character doesn’t automatically make them racist. Someone happening to prefer a white character over a Character of Color doesn’t automatically make them racist. Sure, they might have passively racist motivations that even they don’t realize. But it is not up to strangers to come yell and call names without proof. There are plenty of reasons that have nothing to do with race (Not saying “i don’t see race.” I’m saying “Not About Race”) that I like Stiles over Scott, ranging from the fact that he’s physically more my type, to sharing a neurological condition with him, to just preferring Dylan O’Brien as an actor because he makes me fucking cry every time he cries on screen. What’s important is that we self analyze and check ourselves and our opinions to make sure that we aren’t falling into the racist habit of disliking Characters of Color for no real reason. But that isn’t something that other people can do for us, and it’s not their place to tell us what we think. Calling a stranger racist for saying they hate Scott’s behavior in the show doesn’t do anything for racial equality. It just makes people stop listening to the word ‘racist.’

There are times I seriously get frustrated with TW to the point of considering not watching anymore. Of closing my blog and stopping reading fanfic entirely because every single time I read a fic where Scott’s a ‘good guy’ or a ‘good alpha’ or where Derek is glad to be a beta again because he likes following Alpha Scott, I get squicked so badly I have to click out and just sit there for a second to settle. I can’t disentangle the things he does/says in the show from the fic.And I’ve written Good Friend Scott McCall fics. I have multiple wips where he’s either a decent person or he grows from being a dick to being a decent person. With my own work, I know that there’s an awareness to his behavior in the show and an active intent to rewrite/fix his behavior so that he is a nice person. With other people’s works, I don’t have a guarantee (unless it’s mentioned in tags or author’s notes, and I don’t expect people to have to explain themselves that way), and it personally makes me uncomfortable to read something when I don’t know if the writer actually sees Scott that way. It’s a personal preference, and one that I stick to pretty strictly.

Scott brings me no joy, and with him as the main character, I’ve come perilously close to cutting myself off from the most welcoming, loving fandom I’ve ever been a part of (except the Merlin fandom, but I don’t blame anyone who can’t compete with them. They’re fucking magical.). But I’m still here. I still love, if not the reality of the show, then all the potential I see in it when I watch. I love watching Derek and Stiles interact with each other and with the other side characters. I love seeing the glimpses of Boyd that we get, the tiny scenes of Erica, the snarky moments with Isaac. I even like Kira, though I haven’t seen a whole lot of the show where she’s in it/genuinely can’t remember it (I can’t even remember how far I’ve seen total, but I don’t think it was past S4, and I haven’t seen past S2 in months and months) and she spends most of her scenes with Scott, which just....kind of ruins the scenes for me.

That’s the glory of fandom though, of media in general. I don’t have to like Scott. I can love Derek and Stiles instead and I can choose not to read fics where Scott is a major player or an Alpha at all. I can read fics where Kira’s part of the pack without Scott ever getting involved, and see her interact with everyone else. Or fics where Boyd never dies and watch him bake or read or play lacrosse with the pack. I can curate my own experience, whether that means blocking tags or users or filtering fics, or just straight up skipping certain scenes/episodes of the show itself. I cope with my frustrations by coming on this blog and ranting about it. Yeah, this is a public space, but it’s also a space people choose to view. If they don’t like my opinions, they can block me or unfollow me or all of the above. They don’t have to read it, just like I don’t have to read any of their pro-scott stuff. I also read fic that does explore how Scott’s behavior is problematic and cruel sometimes. Fic that either erases him or turns him into the villain, I find fun and interesting and the relationship between him and Stiles cracking into pieces is something I find extremely cathartic, so I read it pretty much every chance I get (though, i’m so picky about fics I read, you’ve no idea). I also write fic. I write the most mushy, self-indulgent sterek fic and Stiles-centric fic and and Scott bashing fic that I can possibly write. It’s a joy and a therapy all its own. Fuck, I’m rewriting the entirety of canon for fuck’s sake and I’ve made so many changes that at this point I honestly have issues remembering what happens in the show, bc I rewrote the damn thing.

At the same time, Scott fans are gonna write their power fantasies. They’re gonna write anti-Stiles stuff and anti-Derek stuff, and whatever else tickles their fancy. They’re gonna make their own rant posts and gifsets. And to be quite honest, I don’t give a single flying fuck. I already have those tags filtered out on Ao3. I don’t follow any pro-scott tumblrs. That shit doesn’t show up for me most of the time, unless it’s not tagged properly, and even then I just click out, take a second, and move on.

No one is required to like or dislike specific characters, and it’s unfair of anyone to tell us otherwise. Fandom is built on choice. The choice to disagree with canon, or to re-envision it altogether, or to love it entirely. No one can take that away from you. So long as you aren’t hurting anybody, just keep doing you, friend. I’m here for you to vent to when it gets to be too much.

<3

#personal #go for it #anti-scott mccall #meta ramblings #Anonymous #rant #much love #I didn't mean to sound so preachy #oops

[jenetica]

A Brief Note from Our Sponsors: Us.

Greetings! If you’re here, it’s likely that you have questions or complaints about our decisions regarding the Calendar Girls series. An ominous start to this discussion, but truly, we welcome you! If you’re here, it means you have been emotionally impacted by our work and, even though this context isn’t the cheeriest, we are so, so grateful you (1) enjoyed our work enough to care about it, and (2) want to develop a better understanding of our process so that you can engage with Calendar Girl more.

First of all, we understand why you’d be upset with us! The cliffhanger at the end of AotM was a DOOZY and leaves a LOT of important questions unanswered, and we left you readers hanging for a LONG time. This post will, hopefully, assuage the worst of your fears without giving away too many plot points.

That being said, please note that there WILL be spoilers ahead. If you want to see the story unfold as we intended, do NOT read this post further. We will tell you now that the post addresses the Deadpool’s identity, our decisions regarding the construction of AotM and the final cliffhanger, our decisions regarding developing the sequel as a prequel, and our plans for future installments. And, naturally, the accusations of “queerbaiting.”

Let’s get started.

QUEERBAITING

It makes sense to open with the most serious issue, so let’s talk about queerbaiting. For anyone here who doesn’t know, queerbaiting is defined as the purposeful insinuation of a homosexual/queer relationship, only to backtrack/subvert that insinuation to avoid the queer relationship. For an example, see: Supernatural from Season 4 and on. 

We have received accusations of queerbaiting for about four years, based exclusively on the reveal at the end of the final chapter. Similarly, we have received complaints that we duped readers into reading hetfic. So, to get things out of the way, yes, Deadpool is Gwen. No, it’s not a trick of the light, or a mistake, or some odd resemblance. They are one and the same. HOWEVER, that does NOT mean that we have queerbaited anyone.

First of all, the tags of the story are honest, and they always have been. AotM is tagged as a “Multi” fic, meaning that there are relationships of multiple orientations involved, and it is tagged with Peter/Gwen as well as Peter/Wade. Careless Whisper is tagged as F/M. We have never suggested or implied that the story would exclusively be slash fiction. We actually left multiple hints that Wade enjoyed femininity, at least as a practice, if not an identity. iFlail and I discussed this issue at length as we wrote/edited AotM and carefully crafted the story with queerbaiting in mind. 

Peter is an unreliable narrator, he always has been, and he always will be. In AotM, Peter assumes Wade is a man and thus, for the purposes of the narrative, Wade is one. The truth, however, is less clean than that. We won’t get into the details here, but safe to say, gender is not binary, it is not permanent, and it is not inexorably linked to one’s biology. Wade has a complicated history and a complicated/unique sense of identity. We have always intended for him to be that way, just as we always intended for him to be notably, pointedly smaller than Peter. 

The accusations of queerbaiting and/or conning readers into reading “het” fic are exclusionary of the greater conversation of gender identity. It was, frankly, disheartening to see so many people assume heterosexuality based exclusively on the last word of AotM. We hope that our work will challenge readers to be more mindful of the expansive world of gender, and to avoid assuming that a specific kind of pairing might involve specific kinds of body parts.

If you have any questions or reservations about our queerbaiting at this point, you are either welcome to keep reading future installments of this work to learn more, or you are welcome to stop altogether. The choice is yours. 

CONSTRUCTING THE STORY ARC - PRESENT, PAST, AND FUTURE

With that hot-button topic out of the way, let’s talk about the greater concept of ending a story of a cliffhanger, our thoughts behind building this series, and our goals for future installments. 

The second part of the Calendar Girl series, Careless Whisper, was written first, and it comes first chronologically. I (Jenetica) initially worked on the story by myself, as an exploration into the concept of “Gwen becoming Deadpool” to see how it might play out. I ended up writing a story I loved, so I moved onto the next part of the story, set four years later. This ended up becoming Angel of the Morning. 

@iflailfic, a good IRL friend of mine from college, came onboard (after I wooed her with several stories worth of porn, as you can see through a jaunt through my posted works) to help me edit. She fell in love with AotM and, as we worked on first draft edits, she floated the idea of AotM coming before Careless Whisper. Honestly, I rejected the idea at first (not sure if she actually knows/remembers that part, lol), because I couldn’t fathom how we would be able to link the parts of the story together. But, eventually, I began to realize her point: AotM introduces our protagonists, develops the “current” world for the series, and has a more dynamic/engaging plot. 

The cliffhanger was a joke at first. My idea. I think my exact words were something like, “LOLOL what if we just ended on ‘GWEN?’ OMG IMAGINE hahahahaha.” But, as we continued to edit… it became the perfect way to end things. Anything that came after that point felt like trash. If we’d expanded any further, we ran the risk of falling headfirst into Part 3 and doubling the size of AotM. Let’s be real, the ending is, all waiting aside, an absolute nuclear bomb on the rest of the story. 

We talked about the likelihood of enraged readers. But we rationalized it by telling each other/ourselves that we had Careless Whisper written, so the wait wouldn’t be too killer.

Best laid plans.

I (Jenetica) take full responsibility for the time it took to start posting again. Over the last four years, I have gone through a number of experiences that challenged my sense of self and pushed me to become a different person, including moving halfway across the country, attending a relatively prestigious law school where I was no longer “the smart kid in the room,” and losing the relationship that I later learned was toxic and abusive. I lost my confidence in a number of ways, including my confidence as a writer. I became terrified that I would never produce anything that lived up to AotM, and that I would disappoint the many (many!) readers demanding answers. Luckily for me, through that adversity I found rewarding friendships, a beautiful partner who treats me the way I’d always fantasized/written about people like me getting treated, and an engaging career that leaves me with enough energy to write. My experiences are mirrored by iFlail, who went through a different, but similarly life-changing, series of events. But through this all, we never lost hope in this story, and we always planned to complete the series. We are wiser, stronger people now, and we both believe that the story will be richer for it. 

Which brings us to now, and our plans for the future. We do NOT intend to wait another four years to post X Gon’ Give It To Ya, the third and final installment of the series. We have spent countless hours brainstorming the plot, and all that’s really left to do is put it to paper. But, for people who are afraid of being burned twice, we will warn you now that Careless Whisper is JUST a prequel. If you want to know what happens after the “Gwen?” reveal, you will not get any answers until XGGITY (which I have, as of just now, decided to pronounce as “Ziggity”). We hope you stick around to watch Careless Whisper unfold, but we will understand if you want to wait until XGGITY to start reading again.

IN CONCLUSION - FINAL THOUGHTS

The Calendar Girl series has received more attention than we’d ever dreamed, and regardless of whether you liked or disliked our work, we want to thank you for taking the time to read it. If you made it to the end of AotM, we did something right, and again, we are so grateful that so many people have stuck with us this far.

We encourage everyone, moving forward, to keep a close eye on the tags that we use for our stories. We may not tag everything relevant, for the sake of preserving mystery about the plot, but we will be sure to tag everything that may be triggering or concerning, like self-harm, violence, or expected brand of romantic/sexual interactions. We will be adding this warning to the beginning of each story in the series.

Additionally, we want to acknowledge that there is a stark difference between legitimate concerns about the story and unfounded attacks on our character. Our decision to make this post is our attempt to dissuade the latter: We are not queerbaiting, and we have no interest in “forcing” people to read content that is not to their taste. However, that doesn’t mean that our execution of AotM, Careless Whisper, and/or XGGITY will be beyond reproach. The conversation on gender politics has evolved tremendously over the years that we’ve been working on this series, and it will undoubtedly continue to evolve as we progress into the future. We encourage constructive (!!!) criticism and open conversation on ways that we can improve our story, even if it involves tweaking published work to avoid mishandling deeply personal issues.

That said, if, after reading this post, you are still upset and/or unconvinced about our intentions for this series, we encourage you to stop reading it. We are not compensated for this work, and we have spent hundreds (probably thousands, by now) of hours striving to make the Calendar Girl series the best that it can be, for our own benefit. We believe that it may be the best fanfiction we will ever produce, and our satisfaction with our work is our priority. We will continue to post with that priority at the forefront, and with the demands of our reader base playing second fiddle. Similarly, we expect our readers to prioritize their needs above all others. We ask for your patience and your kindness moving forward and, if you cannot give us that, you are welcome to close the tab and move on with your life to other ventures that suit your interests better.

For those of you that choose to stay: You are in for a hell of a ride. We are both anxious to get through Careless Whisper, because we are both SO excited to share XGGITY with you. We believe it’s going to knock your socks off. We hope to see you there. 

Thanks, everyone, and happy reading!

#angel of the morning #calendar girl #spideypool #hashtags

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Vivienne Tang (Angst)

Anon Request #1: “since you’re so good at angst, how would vivi react to mc either dying or getting seriously injured? do your worst xo”

Anon Request #2: “vivienne after her mc dies in her arms either during a heist or after one of her old enemies attack her”

Anon Request #3: “Have you ever watched Grey’s Anatomy? If so, you probably will have seen Lexie Grey’s death and Mark Sloan talking to her as she died. Is there any way you could write a fic inspired by what he said to her, but for Vivienne/MC after MC gets fatally injured? For some reason I keep imagining everything Mark said leaving Vivienne’s mouth as she says goodbye to her MC…🌹”

Anon Request #3: “Break up headanons for viv”

Anon Request #4: “How about MC waking up after a month of coma just to find out that Vivienne has not left her side not once? Yes, give me the angst but with lots of fluff pls ✊😩”

Anon Request #5: “What if Vivienne’s MC fought cancer as a teen and she recently found out that it had come back rather aggressively? How would she tell Vivi and what would her reaction be as she got sicker and sicker? Headcanons please ~ from a teenage cancer survivor who is glad she made it through, and found this blog more helpful in dark times than you’ll ever know xx”

Anon Request #6: “What if Inez had kidnapped MC instead of Vivienne? Please tell us all about Vivienne’s reaction (I personally don’t know how calm she’d be able to remain knowing that someone so predatory has the love of her life in her clutches) and what happens when/after she saves MC. Angst to Fluff, obviously, and can either be a fic or some of your amazing headcanons 😘”

Anon Request #7: “Can any of you guys write a angsty fic where mc and vivi get separated for years and they finally find eachother after searching all those years? xoxo Anon Request #8: “I’m lowkey freaking out at the lockdowns in my country because of the Coronavirus. Is it in any way possible for you to write a fic where germaphobe Vivienne is high key panicking about it and MC has to calm her down?”

Anon Request #9: “fic/hc about vivienne walking in on mc crying on the shower floor after an argument, she’ll become so distressed by the sight that she’ll walk into the shower fully clothed just so she can hold her and tell her she loves her (bonus points if this is the first time she’s actually seen her cry/the first time she realises that mc always cries in the shower because she knows seeing her uncharacteristically sad will break vivi’s heart)…do your worst x”

Anon Request #10: “Vivienne cheats on MC with Nadia and tries to make up to her. The end is up to you😊” Anon Request #11: “HIII, I SAW THAT YOU WROTE SOME HC FOR THE OTHER ANON WHO IS MY AGE & TOLD YOU GUYS A LITTLE ABOUT HER CANCER. I’VE BEEN FIGHTING TYPE 1 DIABETES SINCE I WAS FIVE AND RARELY FIND CHARACTERS WITH THE SAME CONDITION. WOULD IT BE POSSIBLE FOR SOME HC WHERE VIVIENNE’S MC IS A T1 DIABETIC? (: (:” Anon Request #12: “VIVIENNE FINDING MC CRYING AFTER THEIR DISAGREEMENT/THE NADIA SITUATION IN HER LAST CHAPTERS. BONUS POINTS IF SHE’S NEVER SEEN HER CRY BEFORE.“ Anon Request #13: “ANGST, AFTER VIVIENNE’S COMPLACENT ATTITUDE TOWARDS NADIA SOMEHOW RESULTS IN MC’S DEATH — THAT WOULD’VE BEEN PREVENTED IF SHE’D BEEN A GOOD GF AND ACTUALLY LISTENED INSTEAD OF THROWING A TANTRUM AND GASLIGHTING HER — SHE STRUGGLES TO LIVE WITH THE GUILT AND THE POPPY HAVE A HARD TIME FORGIVING HER FOR IT TOO.“

Anon Request #14: “i love angst so much SO CAN YOU WRITE ABOUT VIVIENNE CRYING IN FRONT OF MC FOR THE FIRST TIME?? Break my heart please 😌✌️”

Anon Request #15: “NADIA KIDNAPS VIVI’S MC AND WHEN SHE FINDS HER, SHE’S HURT. NOT FATALLY, BUT SERIOUSLY. THERES A LARGE STAB WOUND IN HER SIDE AND LOTS OF BLOOD AND THE BLOOD LOSS IS HAVING SYMPTOMS; SHE’S COLD, CONFUSED, VERY ANXIOUS ETC. HC OF VIVIENNE CARING FOR HER/COMFORTING HER… MAJOR ANGST BUT END WITH LOTS OF FLUFF PLEASE.”

Anon Request #16: “QUEEN OF THIEVES MC GOES OUT TO DINNER CLUB WITH THE POPPY. DRINKS A GLASS OF WINE, CLUTCHES HER THROAT BEFORE PASSING OUT SINCE ITS POISONED.”

Anon Request #17: “Nadia pushes MC from the rooftop and she is very seriously injured. She spends weeks in the hospital on a ventilator despite being declared brain dead because no one can bear to let her go, her family fly to Paris and Vivienne doesn’t leave her side, but there’s no option but to switch off her life support. Vivi holds her hand as her heartbeat fades, crying and begging her to come back to her, but it’s no use. Fic or HC about this scenario please.”

Anon Request #18: “Vivienne comforting MC after a nightmare (also later MC returning the favor?)”

Anon Request #19: “f it’s possible, can I get Vivienne dying while protecting protecting MC??? Please and Thank You  =)”

Anon Request #20:“I’d like to see a story where QOT MC ends up going blind and Vivienne has to help her adapt, she believes its her fault when it isn’t.”

Anon Request #21: “this might be waaaaaaay too dark and twisty but what if the police caught up with the gilded poppy & rather than go to prison & be separated from each other they decide to ingest some of nikolai & vivienne’s poisons? Pairing for this would be Vivi x Mc if you’re up for doing your absolute worst 🥀🍷

Anon Request #22: “Can you write what happens next in that angst story of Vivenne's MC being poisoned by wine at dinner? The more angst the better.”

Anon Request #23: “It’s been a month since MC left the poppy and returned to NYC, and Vivienne has finally plucked up the courage to win back her woman. When she gets there and tracks her down she finds her dead in her apartment in a murder that’s identical down to the finest detail to Inez Serrano’s. What happens next?”

Anon Request #24: “Ahh, after reading that fic where mc faints from toxic paint, can you guys write a part two of that? If you guys have time since you probably have a dozen requests. Thanks in advance”

Anon Request #25: “Vivienne and MC break up, a couple of years later Vivi goes to New York to win her back. She spots her from across a crowded museum, hides in the shadows, and notices a wedding ring on her finger, a baby with her eyes held in her arms, and another woman on her arm. She looks happier than Vivi can ever recall her being, and that’s when she realises that “hilst MC may be the love of her life, she is not the love of MC’s. ❤️ Do your worst, make us cry, mods xo”

Anon Request #26: “May i request a hc or fic of Vivienne finding out that her girlfriend has been psychologically/emotionally abused by their parents.”

Anon Request #27: “I’m sure I’m not the only one who needs to know more about an awkward ghost’s series about MC w her own crew!!! Perhaps for an eventual finale - MC finally gets cornered and isn’t able to run. She has to confront her feelings and she decides once and for all whether she can forgive Vivienne and move on or if she just can’t.”

Anon Request #28: “Can you write QOT MC betraying Glided Poppy by selling them out to FBI and stealing everything they earned and also joining Flashpoint to work with Nadia. This broke Vivienne’s heart as she gets arrested along the crew. Make it angsty as possible lol and thanks!”

Anon Request #29: “Hi! Long time lurker, big fan of this blog. Can I request either a headcannon or a fic of Viv Tang?Basically, it goes like this, it's an AU of some sort, where Viv and the Poppy leave MC.

Anon Request #30: Can I request a Vivienne x MC, MC died giving birth to their baby😭🥺Advance Thank you for all of your hard work🤗

Anon Request #31: Hello, I loved your fics on Vivienne. So I want to request a Vivienne fic where MC is pregnant, and she with the Poppy is having dinner in a restaurant. But, she got served with spoiled food, so she got food poisoning. Make it a bit angsty and end it in fluff as possible. Thank you!!

Request #1: “oh my poor heart, could you go on, when MC finds vivienne crying on the beach 😭”

Request #2: “could there be a continuation of mc going to steal something from vivienne? like a vivienne point of view when she learned that mc was there and took something from her and maybe she swears to herself not to give up on mc (sorry my english, i'm brazilian i'm still learning)”

Request #3: May i request vivienne x mc where mc leaves vivienne after a huge fight and doesn’t come back, only to have her find mc not only living in Japan but  also finds her figure skating her heart out during after hours because mc’s best friend owns the skating rink facility. Vivienne stays and watches mc skate but when mc sees her, she ignores her because mc is tired of empty promises and dancing around everything that goes on between them. Especially their feelings. Little bit angst but fluffy ending

Combined Request #1: “Vivienne x Mc, where Mc gets injured and falls unconscious and later Vivienne taking care?“ + QOT MC gets caught up in the blast from one of Jett’s explosives, and now has severe burns acrros her face and other parts of her body along with slight deafness. Could I get a fic of Vivienne comforting her, and telling her she’s still beautiful? Thanks!

[solastia]

Author Interview : underthejoon

((If anyone wants to make a cool banner for this, please do. I suck at them))

Today is the debut of a new project. Whether it sticks around for long depends on you guys, but for now the plan is to interview one author a month. Creators are often underappreciated on here (or anywhere, for that matter), so this is me doing my part to connect our readers and writers in a meaningful way. Our first interview is with @underthejoon​, someone whose work I myself have enjoyed for many years now. If you enjoyed this interview, please be sure to send in authors you’d like me to talk to for future editions, as well as any specific questions you’d like answered (except for questions about updating, that will get you a ban). 

Where can your work be found?

I’m kind of a mess and so while I attempt to cross post, I’m not always great at it. All of my work can be found on my tumblr masterlist but some of my things are on Wattpad and AO3. I’m also underthejoon on both of those platforms.

Links to where readers can donate:

I made a ko-fi account ages ago that I never shared with the public because I’ve always felt guilty. Which is silly, idk why I do. But there it is!

Main bias (and why if you’d like) 

So!! I have always been a Namjoon bias. From the very first time I saw them/the very first song I heard I was like yes, you. You are the one, I’m a goner!! He’s so wonderful and unique. He’s very mindful and creative and such a beacon of light to me. Plus, he’s very open with his humanity, if that makes sense? Like he is open about his therapy, his feelings about his perceived shortcomings, his excitement about finding place and things and works of art that inspire him. ALSO THOUGH, in the last year or so I’ve also become a Hoseok bias. He is just so dedicated and loving. He’s insanely talented and vastly underrated, in my opinion. And through all the back breaking work, he is kind through and through. He’s seriously just so warm and makes me really happy.

Hogwarts House : 

Okay, the very first time I ever took it I was a slytherin. A few years later, I took it again and got hufflepuff. I like to think I’m a combination of the two but can see myself as more of a puff. 

Describe yourself in five words:

Creative, Extroverted, Empathetic, Intuitive, Inquisitive 

Current favorite BTS songs: 

SO MANY, but I’ll pick 7 for 7 members. Some of these are old as hell but still currently my favorite lol. Love Maze, Love is Not Over, Outro: Her, Dimple, Tomorrow, Like, 2!3!

What was the defining moment when you decided, “Yes! I am going to write the thing!”? 

For like fanfic in general? I feel like I had been reading a lot of it after “discovering” k-pop and then after a few months I was just like fuck it, I’m doing it!! I was always super into writing poetry and never thought I would be any good at anything like this but it sounded fun so here we are now. 

What do you most enjoy about writing BTS fanfiction specifically? 

I think it’s the community of writers. When I started my blog, I met a lot of really amazing supportive writers that I’ve managed to stay friends with and I think that makes a really big difference when you have people that can relate to you and what you’re doing.

Any tropes or au’s that you want to explore later? 

I would really like to try writing some sort of supernatural creature fics. I’ve had this werewolf love triangle universe planned out forever that I would like to eventually write. Maybe like a workplace romance? 

Which of your fics would you suggest for new readers? 

For a completed series i’d say Piece by Piece. My WIP series, Love is Not Over is another one. For a one-shot I’d say, For You. Maybe the sweetness/make it right drabbles too. 

Which of your fics is your favorite? 

Piece by Piece, no doubt. I really feel proud of it and I have a hard time admitting I like anything I write. 

What other fandoms do you wish you had the time to write for? 

I used to write for EXO, Got7 and sometimes Monsta X and I miss it sometimes but also, I feel pretty contented in just writing for BTS. There’s a lot of inspiration there and I always felt I was being pulled in too many directions by my readers when I wrote for multiple fandoms.

What are your writing goals for the upcoming year? 

I’d like to finish three series I have planned, get caught up on my collab fics and at least finish an outline for my original fiction piece I’ve been putting off!

Which writers do you read religiously? 

There’s so many amazing writers on tumblr and I try as hard as I can to keep up with my mutuals when they put stuff out but sometimes it’s hard! I’m gonna be really brief because otherwise my list could go on and on. Okay, first and foremost, Shanna (@kpopfanfictrash) - she’s my best friend and a fabulous, wonderful writer. I would just like to give her a special shout out because not only does she entertain me for hours with her writing, she is very supportive of mine. Other authors I adore as humans and content creators and keep up with most regularly are @floralseokjin and @lamourche !

What is the weirdest thing you’ve had to google in the name of writing?

LOL. Hmm… I’m really boring and feel like I don’t really google that much when writing except maybe like different sex positions when i need a visual or synonyms to certain words. I’ve found some good porn though? Because visuals do help me.

Reader/OC fics within this fandom are often still looked down on and we all have to work hard to make them good enough for readers to look past their reputation. How do you combat the cringe? 

TBH, I don’t think that responsibility lies on us as writers. If people don’t like certain types of writing, that’s on them and they can avoid it. Reader insert/oc fics are just as valid a genre as any. I’ve read some of the most beautiful, creative stories on this platform, some of which could be published if names were changed/reader was switched to a named OC. There’s something out there for everyone and it’s all subjective. While I might find certain things super cringey, others love it. To each their own as long as they aren’t shoving it in the faces of the people they’re writing about or being disrespectful, you know?

What is your personal guilty (or not-so-guilty) pleasure trope? 

MUTUAL PINING/FRIENDS TO LOVERS. I feel like it’s so basic but I fucking love that trope and I think so many people do it so beautifully it is my absolute favorite. 

What is something that you see often in other fanfics that drives you insane? 

I think the only thing that really bothers me is when people romanticize abuse or other toxic/triggering topics. 

Are any of the boys or ships more difficult for you to write than others? 

I think I have the hardest time writing for Jimin and Taehyung but only because I feel I am the most similar to them and for whatever reason that deters me from writing about them often.

We all think we are the most hilarious person there is (even if we won’t admit it), so what is one line or scenario of yours that you like to go back to and giggle over? 

Okay this was actually really difficult for me because I don’t write like any humor and don’t think I’m good at LOL. I think my only attempt at humorous writing was The New Guy in which the reader is high off her ass lying on the front lawn and thinking the world is ending then accusing Namjoon of being the Grim Reaper when he comes looking for her.

ONLY IF YOU WANT TO - A scenario as long or short as you want. Maybe 250 words or less. Godzilla is attacking the city and BTS is your rescue crew. How screwed are you? 

“D-danger, you say?” Seokjin stutters.

“G-giant lizard monster headed this way?” Hoseok chokes. 

The pair exchange glances then turn their focus towards you. Seokjin jerks his head towards the door and you nod in return. 

“I hear what you’re saying, gentlemen,” Hoseok says as he stands on shaky legs. He grabs your hand as if to instruct you to do the same. 

“And as much as we would LOVE to help you…” His grip is tighter now and you know what comes next. 

Before he can finish, Seokjin shoots up from his chair and makes a mad dash towards the door. “Now, now, run, holy shit, NOW!”

Hoseok joins his friend in his haste to evacuate, dragging your nearly petrified form behind him. “No way in hell are we getting anywhere near that thing!”

Seokjin and Hoseok babble horrified nonsense between them but you can’t really decipher much of it. Your heart is pounding in your ears as you replay the name “Godzilla” in your brain.

They wanted you to rescue the city? What were they thinking?

When you reach Seokjin’s car, you have a brief moment of clarity. There are lives at stake, after all. How can you really just abandon the city when it needs a hero?

“What about everybody else?” you ask, voice small and fearful.

“Everybody else?” Seokjin huffs, putting the car in gear. He hardly gives your question a thought before he peels out of the parking lot. “Jungkook can handle everybody else. I raised him on my back, you know? It’s the least he can do!”

#bangtan bards #bts #bts writers #underthejoon #bts fanfic #bts authors #solastia #author interview