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anghraine · 6 days

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Okay, breaking my principles hiatus again for another fanfic rant despite my profound frustration w/ Tumblr currently:

I have another post and conversation on DW about this, but while pretty much my entire dash has zero patience with the overtly contemptuous Hot Fanfic Takes, I do pretty often see takes on Fanfiction's Limitations As A Form that are phrased more gently and/or academically but which rely on the same assumptions and make the same mistakes.

IMO even the gentlest, and/or most earnest, and/or most eruditely theorized takes on fanfiction as a form still suffer from one basic problem: the formal argument does not work.

I have never once seen a take on fanfiction as a form that could provide a coherent formal definition of what fanfiction is and what it is not (formal as in "related to its form" not as in "proper" or "stuffy"). Every argument I have ever seen on the strengths/weaknesses of fanfiction as a form vs original fiction relies to some extent on this lack of clarity.

Hence the inevitable "what about Shakespeare/Ovid/Wide Sargasso Sea/modern takes on ancient religious narratives/retold fairy tales/adaptation/expanded universes/etc" responses. The assumptions and assertions about fanfiction as a form in these arguments pretty much always should apply to other things based on the defining formal qualities of fanfic in these arguments ("fanfiction is fundamentally X because it re-purposes pre-existing characters and stories rather than inventing new ones" "fanfiction is fundamentally Y because it's often serialized" etc).

Yet the framing of the argument virtually always makes it clear that the generalizations about fanfic are not being applied to Real Literature. Nor can this argument account for original fics produced within a fandom context such as AO3 that are basically indistinguishable from fanfic in every way apart from lacking a canon source.

At the end of the day, I do not think fanfic is "the way it is" because of any fundamental formal qualities—after all, it shares these qualities with vast swaths of other human literature and art over thousands of years that most people would never consider fanfic. My view is that an argument about fanfic based purely on form must also apply to "non-fanfic" works that share the formal qualities brought up in the argument (these arguments never actually apply their theories to anything other than fanfic, though).

Alternately, the formal argument could provide a definition of fanfic (a formal one, not one based on judgment of merit or morality) that excludes these other kinds of works and genres. In that case, the argument would actually apply only to fanfic (as defined). But I have never seen this happen, either.

So ultimately, I think the whole formal argument about fanfic is unsalvageably flawed in practice.

Realistically, fanfiction is not the way it is because of something fundamentally derived from writing characters/settings etc you didn't originate (or serialization as some new-fangled form, lmao). Fanfiction as a category is an intrinsically modern concept resulting largely from similarly modern concepts of intellectual property and auteurship (legally and culturally) that have been so extremely normalized in many English-language media spaces (at the least) that many people do not realize these concepts are context-dependent and not universal truths.

Fanfic does not look like it does (or exist as a discrete category at all) without specifically modern legal practices (and assumptions about law that may or may not be true, like with many authorial & corporate attempts to use the possibility of legal threats to dictate terms of engagement w/ media to fandom, the Marion Zimmer Bradley myth, etc).

Fanfic does not look like it does without the broader fandom cultures and trends around it. It does not look like it does without the massive popularity of various romance genres and some very popular SF/F. It does not look like it does without any number of other social and cultural forces that are also extremely modern in the grand scheme of things.

The formal argument is just so completely ahistorical and obliviously presentist in its assumptions about art and generally incoherent that, sure, it's nicer when people present it politely, but it's still wrong.

#this is probably my most pretentious fanfiction defense squad post but it's difficult to express in other terms #like. people talking about ao3 house style (not always by name but clearly referring to it) as a result of fanfic as a form #and not the social/cultural effect of ao3 as a fandom space #you don't get ao3 house style without ao3 itself and you don't get ao3 without strikethrough and livejournal etc #and you don't get those without authors and corporations trying to exercise control over fic based on law (often us law) & myths about law #and you don't get those without distinctly modern concepts of intellectual property and copyright #none of those things have fuck all to do with form!#anghraine rants #fanfiction #general fanwank #long post #thinking about this partly because the softer & gentler versions of fanfic discourse keep crossing my dash #and partly because i've written like 30 pages about a playwright i adore who was just not very good at 'original fiction' as we'd define it #both his major works are ... glorified rpf in our context but splendid tragedies in his #and the idea of categorizing /anything/ in that era by originality of conception rather than comedy/tragedy/etc would be buckwild #ivory tower blogging #anghraine's meta

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johnslittlespoon · 11 days

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plsssss can we talk about bucky getting his revenge and edging gale

gale edging john post | yes we cannnnn !! eta: ykw. i need to just turn this into a proper oneshot since this ended up being over 1k words. new wip created </3

john may be a man of little self control, but after that incident, he decides he can be at least a tiny bit patient so he can catch gale off guard with it when he gets his revenge. because the next few times they're fooling around, gale's expecting a retaliation, john can see it in the way he tenses up and glances at his face before he comes like he's waiting for it, but john never follows through with it. he wants gale to let his guard down, and that he does.

so a week or so later when john's kissing him and feeling him up and asks ever so sweetly if he can tie gale's wrists behind his back, gale doesn't think anything of it. john likes to take control occasionally and gale sometimes likes the feeling of not having to worry about making decisions, getting to let john call the shots, and john always puts extra time and effort into the way he touches gale when he's restrained because he likes to watch his darling blondie squirm.

john has him sit in his lap facing him, letting gale lean against his shoulder to take the pressure off his legs while john works him open on his fingers, already riled up from the pretty gasps gale's making against his neck but reigning himself in because he's gonna need to have some self control for once.

he sweet–talks gale through it, telling him how good he sounds, how well he's doing as he sinks down on his cock, guiding him with hands on his hips so he doesn't unbalance himself without the use of his own hands where they're tied behind his back with a belt. he stays still at first, letting gale ride him slowly, keeping his hands loosely on his waist while praising him and talking him into that foggy needy headspace until gale's thighs are trembling and john takes pity on him (and frankly is so hard he doesn't have the patience to keep his own hips still anymore).

so he runs his hands down from gale's waist to his ass to hold him in place while he rolls his hips up into him, watching the way gale's eyebrows pinch and his pretty lips fall open in a silent oh as john angles himself in a way gale couldn't with his own movements. lets his mouth run as he slowly picks up his pace, all the coos of "so pretty", "you're taking me so well", "you feel so fucking good", loving how reactive gale is to every word and every thrust.

he moves his hands to gale's hips to get a better grip, can tell gale's getting close because he gets noisier, losing his filter and letting out breathy little "fuck"s and "john"s, head rolling back on his shoulders to bare his neck, rocking his hips down to meet john every time he fucks up into him. and then just as he gets the warning of "close", he pulls gale down by his hips to bury himself deep in him and stops moving completely.

the whine of desperation that tears out of gale's throat when he lifts his head has john knocking his skull back against the wall, cock twitching hard enough inside gale that he's sure the blond can feel it. he watches gale's biceps flex when he instinctively tries to get his hands free, feels his hips try to squirm out of his hands to keep moving, but he keeps him pinned firmly down, dizzy at the way he clenches down around him.

a plaintive "john" pulls a groan from him, but he composes himself, lifts his gaze back up to gale's face and lets the corners of his lips quirk up, purrs out a "yeah, sweetheart? something wrong?"

laughs at the way gale cusses him out, a rare sight of his little spitfire with a mouth on him, though the effect is a lot closer to being hissed at by a kitty than actually being convinced to move. john lets him run his mouth, murmurs a "cute" once gale's done, and then promptly hammers his hips up into him just once, swearing under his breath at the way it punches an open–mouthed moan from gale. rocks his hips up into him a few times before going back to a quick and rough pace, the sound of skin on skin getting both of them flushed.

it only takes a minute before gale's hips are twitching into his hands and whispered pleas are falling from his mouth and john thinks he's never had to use as much self restraint in his life as he does when he forces himself to stop moving again, once again yanking gale down against him, holding him still in his lap.

gale really fights it this time, enough so that it's a merciful distraction for john from how close he himself is (trust his idea to backfire as he ends up edging himself along with gale, he thinks) when he has to use proper strength to keep him in place. any blood that might've still been lurking around his brain rushes south the moment he sees gale's eyes getting shiny with frustration, cheeks all pink and lips red and flushed from biting down on them.

"not so fun, is it?" john taunts, but his voice comes out a bit more raspy than he would've liked, evident how much the stop and start is getting to him too. it's probably karma, because he knows he's being more mean than gale was to him, but he can't help it; those blue eyes look so pretty when tears are threatening to spill over when he's desperate and needy like this.

gale wriggles in his lap the best he can, still furiously chasing his orgasm, head finally falling back in frustration before he lifts it again, looking john in the eyes, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. he whines quietly and whimpers out the sweetest "please, johnny," almost crying in his impatience, and fuck.

john doesn't mean for his hips to twitch up at that, but they do, hard. gale sobs out a broken sound at the way john's cock hits just where he needs it to in his accidental movement, and gale spills over his stomach completely untouched, just like that. john swears and drives his hips up into him in an attempt to quickly amend his slip up, moaning loud at the wrecked noises that immediately start bubbling up out of gale as he fucks him through his orgasm.

he tips over the edge himself from the desperate sounds the blond starts to make as he crosses the line into overstimulation, feeling gale's hips jerk frantically in his hands, fighting to get away from the incessant rhythm of his cock inside him as john shudders through his own orgasm, fingers digging into gale's sides.

he slows down to a gentle grind of his hips when gale collapses against his chest, face pressed to his neck, shivering at the slow drag inside him and whining pitifully when john eventually pulls out, settling him down on his thighs while he reaches around to undo the belt and free his hands. his heart bursts at the way gale instantly wraps his arms around him, clinging to him as they both catch their breath, john petting his hair and showering him with praise.

he eventually huffs out a laugh, murmuring a "sorry buck. payback's a bitch, but that was an accident, i swear." gale groans against him in complaint, lightly nipping at his shoulder in retaliation, too tired to fight back, but john's sure he'll pay for it eventually.

it's confirmed with the "better watch your back, darling" that he gets when they're both pulling their clothes back on, but to john, that sounds less like a threat and more like a good time, and he shoots gale a crooked grin to let him know as much.

#bruh this was 1.3k i did not mean to get into so much detail #the keep reading button has never been more necessary #i wish i could crank out long drabbles like this for all the asks #but they take sooo long for me to write i am NOT a fast writer lol hence why i post a fic like once a month #but sometimes certain asks just itch my brain some type of way and then boom i've thrown up onto a tumblr post #anyway dacryphilia my beloved <3 #in any other scenario john hates to see gale cry. but i think in bed he would have an affinity for making him feel so good that he cries #have i thought about this extensively? perhaps.#i just think that pretty boys with pretty eyes and pink lips deserve to cry during sex sometimes. as a treat #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon spicy #buck x bucky #buckbucky

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fogwitchoftheevermore · 21 days

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(context for watcher/listener!sausage can be found in the “videos” tag on my blog if you want it, but this ficlet can be read without said context)

- - -

“Y’know, of all the Hermits I was expecting to be pulling me into a dark corner tonight, I did not expect you to be first, Grian! I love the initiative!”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Grian says in a voice near a hiss. He’s got Sausage by the wrist, leading him into a small area of the upper floor of the tavern in Sanctaury that does look like it was built for the exact purpose Sausage is implying. Grian decides to ignore that as well.

“What are you doing here?” Grian’s straight to the point. He always has to be, with these Things, if he doesn’t want to get trapped in a loop of slant rhyming pleasantries.

“What do you mean?” Sausage asks, shaking his wrist out of Grian’s tight grip and leaning comfortably against the wall. “This is where I live. It’s my home. If anything, I should be asking you mysterious strangers what you’re doing here, but I’m sure you’ve heard that question enough for one day.”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Grian crosses his arms and tries his best not to look petulant, but he sure feels like it. “I thought They’d given up on trying to snatch me back, so why would They send you of all people? What’s your game?”

Sausage laughs, honest to god laughs, like he can’t believe Grian’s even asking him such a question. Grian thinks it’s a reasonable question, in this scenario, but what he thinks and what’s reasonable rarely seems to matter with these things.

“They didn’t send me,” Sausage looks him up and down in that way that makes Grian have to physically stop himself from curling inwards. This is why he never talks to Them. “Nobody sends me anywhere, they don’t tell me what to do and I like it that way! I just do my own thing. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“No you’re not! You’re not- you can’t be! That’s not how this works!” Grian begins to notice that he’s no longer whisper-shouting and starting to just-normal-shout and takes a deep breath, trying not to draw the attention of his friends enjoying themselves on the floor below. And, realistically, in the other dark corners Sausage seems to have built into this place.

“That’s exactly how this works. You didn’t think you were the only person who’d left, did you?”

Grian opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks. In hindsight… yeah, he had kind of assumed he’d been the only person who’d left. Not for lack of trying, probably- but They’d tried for so long to get him back, kept him closely surveilled even when They’d accepted he was gone- surely some people had caved to that pressure eventually. When there was no sign They’d ever let up, ever let you go… he could understand eventually letting it overtake you.

“Did- did you leave, too?” Grian doesn’t remember the last time he saw Sausage’s face. He didn’t know him back then, of course. He probably would’ve connected the man with the person Pearl so often spoke about sooner. But he knows it’s been a long time, maybe even longer than the last time Grian had gone There. He doesn’t think Sausage had been There, that day. This might explain why.

“Eh, not quite?”

“What-“ Grian flails, both mentally and with his arms a bit. “What do you mean not quite?”

“Exactly what I said! I was never- it’s complicated, y’know?”

“Explain. Now.”

“Well, uh,” Sausage seems to flounder for the first time since this conversation started, which Grian is choosing to take as a victory. “Look, I wasn’t- they didn’t pick me. For this, or for anything, ever. Sometimes things just happen and you get yourself into a place you shouldn’t have and then… they can’t get rid of me, I can’t get rid of them, it is what it is.”

Grian stares at him for a long moment. Really stares at him, in the same way Sausage had looked him over earlier, in the same way that makes you feel like you’re under a microscope. Judging by the sudden nerves in his eyes, Grian can assume he feels it too. Grian remembers his face. That had been the first thing he’d noticed, when the Hermits had arrived. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but Grian knew his face. And now that Grian was studying him, really trying to remember… he’s not sure he quite likes what memories he’s dredging up.

“What are you?”

“Grian!” Sausage’s voice drips with mock offense as he puts his hand up to partially cover his mouth. “We only just met, do you think that’s polite?”

“Answer the question,” Grian sighs. How Pearl deals with this man on the regular, he doesn’t know.

“Well, if you insist.” Sausage sighs, somehow even more exaggerated than his previous movements. “It’s just… if you’ll believe it, it’s somehow even harder to answer the first question.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Grian says. “They’re two very different People, you know.”

“But they’re the same species, when it all comes down to it. Like, you might be very different than a chicken, but you’re both birds in the long run.”

Grian pauses, fanning his wings out a bit behind him as he considers. “I don’t think that metaphor’s quite landing the way you want it to.”

“No, me neither. Anyways, let me continue.

When they don’t pick you, things go a little differently! You don’t get sorted onto one side or the other since, well, you’re not really supposed to be there? So I’m… whatever I want to be, really. I think I’m feeling like more of a Listener, today, but we’ll see how the mood shifts.”

Grian flinches at the Name, on instinct. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he files it away to be dealt with at a later date. As for the rest of what Sausage said-

“What?”

“You heard me.” Sausage shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, Grian thinks he might strangle him, if not for the worry that that’s exactly what he wants out of this, somehow.

“Did I? Did I hear you?” Grian wants to pace, but that requires leaving the security of the corner, so he forces his feet to root themselves to the floor. “I thought- I thought you had to- if you wanted to change sides, I thought you had to-“

Grian closes one eye and takes his thumb to it, twisting the finger into his eyelid. The gesture seems to get the point across.

“Well, that’s the funny thing about this, actually.” From the way he’s been talking, Grian assumed Sausage thought this whole thing was funny. He restrains himself from saying that out loud if only so Sausage will finish his explanation.

Sausage reaches up to his left eye, pulls his eye lid back a bit, and unceremoniously pops out his prosthetic eye.

“All these processes and rituals actually have a lot of loopholes.”

Grian doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s enough to make Sausage giggle while he pops the eye back in. Because of course he does. Because this how his day is going, apparently. Walk through a weird portal in his basement and wake up in a world filled with his friends who don’t recognize him and also a guy he only ever saw There, who he was never supposed to see again. Sure. Of course he’s laughing about it. Grian thinks if he was a slightly different person, he’d be laughing too. It is, undeniably, absurd.

“Well, I think we’re done here then!” Grian would probably object if he weren’t so shocked about the loopholes. As it is, he just stands there a bit stupidly.

Sausage turns away to return to the party before turn around again for just a moment, reaching over, and ruffling Grian’s hair. That shocks him enough to shake him out of his stupor and swat Sausage’s hand away, though not before his hair is suitably messed up.

“What was that for?!”

Sausage smiles as he reaches up to rough up his own hair as well. “I assumed you didn’t want your friends asking questions about why you were dragging me into a dark corner, you know?” Sausage even goes far enough to pull his shirt a bit out of where it’s tucked into his pants, because of course he does. Grian tries not to cringe, but Sausage is right about this one thing. It is the easiest way to dodge any questions about where he’d gone off to- at the expense of the many knowing looks and teasing remarks he’ll be getting from the other Hermits instead.

“Have a good night, Grian!” Sausage calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave for real this time. “And remember, drinks are on me for all you guests tonight! You look like you need it.”

#empires smp #hermitcraft #grian #mythicalsausage #hermitfic #empiresfic #long post #my writing #….do i need to tag shipping on this #they’re not actually DOING anything. and i would say i’m not really going much further than sausage usually does #but like. idk man. if i wake up in the morning and decide i need to tag shipping i will #anyways. fics for an audience of like two people total #but that’s ok cause i like this SO MUCH #the first few sentences have been rotting in my tumblr drafts for like at least two months #and i finally kicked myself into gear to just finish it #and i had fun! i liked the way i used capitalization here to really wedge the difference between how these two think of the watchers #(and listeners)#grian doesn’t necessarily respect them but he does still see them as Other. and he’s maybe a little afraid #so all the important stuff gets capitalized #sausage doesn’t. he doesn’t respect them and he doesn’t fear them and they’re just a weird bureaucracy to him #so no capitalization!#also ten seconds after posting this i got a post on my dash #of sausage posting a screenshot of e’s tumblr post about him checking tumblr in their twitter replies #terrifying. hey king if you see this keep the bit up. i think it’s funny

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oneluckydragon · 3 months

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Started writing a fic back in early October and had to abandon it for a while due to IRL situations. But I've started working on it again little by little, and I am so excited to eventually share it with my mutuals and followers. I hope you guys enjoy it (I am trying my best to get it done)!

TBH my only motivation anymore is thinking about my friends having a good time reading it when it's finally posted (I love all of you very much). I cannot wait for all of these ideas to be fleshed-out on paper at last.

Over 16,000 words and I am nowhere near satisfied yet. I feel like I can write WAY more. Stay tuned!

#for anyone wondering the fic is dusknoir/grovyle centric but I PROMISE that I did not forget their girl Celebi #she loves them as well and they love her #but the entire thing takes place during Dusknoir's reconciliation w/ Team Wish #the doodle above is from a scene that I wrote!!#Echo and Dusknoir have lots of conversations #they are working on mending their relationship with each other #also dusknoir is holding his hands folded and out in front of him so Echo can clearly see them at all times #he knows that she's got some trauma with grabbing/touching when its w/ him specifically and he's trying VERY hard to accommodate her #in reality Echo could give a shit about him doing that for her but it's the thought that counts (she secretly appreciates it)#bonus that Sora also gets some resolution with Dusknoir too because lemme tell ya my girl NEEDS it #(scribz / fuji / zerger ) thinking about you guys each day fuels my desire to finish this damn thing so pls know that i love you #pmd eots #pmd2 #my art #my fic #echo/umbreon #sora/lucario #not sure how long until this is actually posted cause my life is a horrible mess atm but I am hoping not too long!!#time to disappear back into the void because job hunting is the literal worst

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lgbtlunaverse · 1 month

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3zun data analysis part 2 electric boogaloo

So in my first post on 3zun data analysis I said I manually excluded all non-3zun ships in the 3zun tag to figure out how many of them were actually centered around 3zun.

So that's... actually not how i first went about that. Instead, I decided to, one after the other, include each 2-out-of-3zun ship, and then manually exclude every relationship not contained in 3zun. (leaving te other 2-out-of-3zun ships alone) Then, I'd figure out how many of these fics were exclusively tagged the ship I included, how many included only one of the other 2 ships, and how many included all 3, which would allow me to calculate how many 3zun fics in total had 2-out-of-3zun ships included but no other side pairings, which, upon being added to the otp:true fics, should give me the total number of 3zun fics exclusively focused on 3zun.

"Wow! That seems really inefficient" yes! But it did give me more information for this post. Because with these numbers, I can somewhat crudely estimate what 2-out-of-3zun pairing tends to get more narrative focus within 3zun fics.

Here are the results, data collected on march 18th 2024:

There are 196 3zun fics tagged with xiyao and no non-3zun relationships. Of these, 151 are also tagged nieyao, and 137 are tagged nielan.

Coincidentally, nieyao has the same number, also 196, 151 of wich are also tagged xiyao, but only 117 are tagged nielan.

Then there are 159 3zun fics tagged nielan with no non-3zun pairings, with 137 of them also being tagged xiyao and 117 nieyao. (I hope you've all noticed those numbers matching up!)

by the way, here are the raw stats in just the plain vanilla 3zun tag, no filters, for how many fics are tagged with the different ot2s.

Also, this has nothing to do with anything, but for nielan and xiyao i mostly had to filter out relatively normal side pairings, a few crossovers with mxtx's other works or different danmei, nothing too weird. But the nieyao tag had THIS

JESUS/JUDAS??? IN MY NIEYAO?? It's more likely than you think!!

Anyway, to the complicated numbers! Selecting for all 3 after excluding everything else gives you 112 fics.

With these numbers you can now calculate some really fun stuff. Taking the fics tagged with both xiyao and nieyao (151) and subtracting the fics tagging all 3 (112) you get the number of 3zun fics that are only tagged as xiyao and nieyao, excluding nielan. In this case: 39

"Couldn't you just exclude nielan on ao3" you have to understand I like doing things the hard way.

Doing this gives:

Fics tagged nieyao and xiyao but not nielan: 39

Fics tagged xiyao and nielan but not nieyao: 25

Fics tagged nieyao and nielan but not xiyao: 5

Generally tagging 2 ot2 pairings in an ot3 signals that either the relationship is a V and the excluded ship are not together, or that- even if they're a triad- the excluded ship doesn't feature in the narrative much. As you can see, xiyao is by far the least likely to be excluded here.

Now doing some more math (or, if you're normal, clicking a few extra times on ao3) will give you the fics exclusively tagged with one ot2 pairing besides 3zun. Generally that means that this relationship is the narrative focus, even if all of 3zun are together.

And these results actually surprised me.

Fics exclusively tagged xiyao: 196 - 112 - 39 - 25 = 20

Fics exclusively tagged nielan: 159 - 112- 25 - 5 = 17

Fics exclusively tagged nieyao: 196 - 112 - 39 - 5 = 40

I checked the answers by actually filtering on ao3 (making all my work redundant) and uh. Yeah. I had expected that, with xiyao being the least likely to be excluded, the most commonly tagged ship in 3zun overall, and simply the most popular ship, they'd be first here too.

And yet, not only does nieyao have more fics, it has more than nielan and xiyao combined. Despite having less fics in total than either of the other 2!

Out of interest, I repeated the experiment without manually excluding all the unrelated ships.

Basically, for each 2-out-of-3zun ship, I only filtered out the two other ships. This data will give us the same insight into narrative focus, just without excluding all other non 3zun rleated side pairings.

This time I just included one ship, and excluded the other 2-out-of-3zun ships. (the hard math comes later)

Doing this gives:

3zun fics only tagged xiyao: 45

3zun fics only tagged nielan: 33

3zun fics only tagged nieyao: 59

It's a less drastic difference, but nieyao still come out on top!!

What this means, I think, is that people with nieyao as their absolute favorite side of the triangle are a lot more likely to write 3zun fics than those for whom the same is true for nielan or xiyao.

That is to say: Someone who likes all 3zun pairings equally is more likely to write 3zun where the pairings all share narrative balance. And if you really really really love xiyao, and think nieyao and nielan are pretty ok but you don't go crazy over them, you're a lot more likely to just write a solo xiyao fic than you are a xiyao-focused 3zun fic. Idem ditto for nielan. But if nieyao is your absolute fave, you wanna put those guys in a throuple anyway.

What I'm saying is I think nieyaoists are the subfandom of triangular desire. Which... *looks at my own mutuals*... is the least surprising thing i've ever said.

Anyway! I didn't stop there! I wanted to see which pairings were more likely to get tagged together again. I also decided to make things even harder for myself!

Instead of filtering one ship at a time and seeing how many of each of the others were tagged alongside it, like i did last time, I only gave myself a few figures to calculate it manually: The overall number of tags each had in the 3zun tag (348, 328, and 284, as pictured above) the afformentioned data about exclusively tagged fics, and the number of fics tagged with all three 2-out-of-3zun ships (175)

Rather than a simple subtraction, I had to... Well i'm just gonna let y'all look at my notes app. I wanna stress that i could have looked all of this up in minutes and in fact did later to check my answers! No time was saved! A lot was wasted!

But I like number so 👉👈

Tldr:

Fics tagged xiyao and nieyao but not nielan: 73

Fics tagged xiyao and nielan but not nieyao: 55

Fics tagged nieyao and nielan but not xiyao: 21

Once again, similar but slightly less drastic results.

With this I can only come to one conclusion: the fandom likes to joke about 3zun being a love triangle with xichen in the middle. But looking at these numbers? The real center is jiggy. Everything revolves around a-yao, baby!.

#as it should!!#to be clear that last line is a joke and NOT nielan slander! as you can see 3zun is overwhelmingly written about in triad form #fics were all 3 are tagged outnumber all the exclusively tagged and only 2 out of 3 tagged' categories #not to mention the fics that don't need to tag any other pairings because the ot3 ship tag says enough #mdzs #nie mingjue #meng yao #jin guangyao #lan xichen #xiyao #nieyao #nielan #3zun #long post #fandom research #fandom statistics #of course as any seasoned reader knows sometimes tags do NOT indicate actual narrative focus.#meaning this study is inherently imperfect. but the only way to get better data is to actually read all those 1K+ fics and well.#that's gonna take a bit longer #working on it though #i hope this post shows everyone my true energy: brian david gilbert at the end of an unraveled video

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eclairfair98 · 4 months

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“Oh, but you see, Kazansky,” the boy looks down at him and smiles. Engulfed by the honey-gold haze of a sharp summer sun, the sweetest, most reckless thing he’s ever seen. “I am dangerous!”

And there’s something about that smile, guilelessly fluttering across his flushed face like a hummingbird taking flight, that digs into Tom’s chest like the gentlest of knives. Cleaves its way between his ribs.

Fills his heart with light.

It’s strange, how quickly it all happens. How startlingly unremarkable it really is. How Tom takes a deep breath, lets the faint wisps of warm vanilla sugar trickle down his too-dry throat, closes his eyes, and just knows: he might’ve entered this quaint house in the middle of nowhere with a firm plan in mind to destroy any chances his father had of securing a betrothal (even if that meant stooping low-enough to make a thirteen-year-old cry) but hurting Pete Mitchell in any shape or form, wouldn’t sit right with his conscience.

Knows that there’s no reason why Mrs Mitchell should be so intent on finding her son a match at such short notice, especially when he’s so young. (Especially when she doesn’t seem like one of those parents that unfortunately, aren’t all that uncommon in the Navy: who think their omega children have little value beyond the connections they can help forge via bonding and marriage.)

Recognizes dire straits when they’re staring him in the face: the thinly-veiled distress in Mrs Mitchell’s dull green eyes; the worn dress shirt that’s almost two sizes too big for Pete — that he was probably supposed to grow into several months ago, but never did; the stale scent of grief and pain that clings to even the most carefully-polished surface of their home.

Finds himself thinking that maybe, it isn’t all that strange. Maybe, he could spend the rest of his life with this boy. Finding out what makes him smile. What makes him laugh. What is his favorite dream to dream.

In the end, it all comes down to this: Sometimes, you meet a person and it feels like you’ve known them your entire life. A quiet sense of belonging settles in your bones, and you realize you’d do anything to keep them happy and secure.

#the unbearable lightness of being #icemav #topgun #omegaverse #as I promised myself (and others)#I will be making a final fully-edited version of this fic #and posting it on ao3 once I’m done #don’t know how long it’ll take me but I’m hoping to get it done by Spring/Summer of next year #this is the first fic I’ve ever written and the more I think about it the clearer it seems to me that it’s probably going to be my last #which is why I want to do my best to leave the best possible version of it on the internet for posterity #to everyone who’s left me asks and DMs and Ao3 comments in the past few months #please know that I’ve read every single kind word you’ve sent my way #and they all mean a lot to me #thank you ❤️ thank you ❤️ thank you #I’m going to try my best to get back to all of you as soon as I can 🤞🏼#hope you’ve all been doing very well #and oh #Happy Holidays! 🌻

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ride-a-dromedary · 7 months

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I have no base for this, but Halsin seems like the type who would settle in the middle of the group with fruits (that he likely foraged) and little wooden bowl in tow and just start cutting them unprompted and offering them to everyone else.

#BG3 Musing #Halsin #Halsin Posting #i cannot get over him telling shadowheart he would feed her and carry around her bowl if she were a goldfish #you know what i'm talking about right - like the little paring knife cuts them in his hands #at first it just looks like he's doing it for himself but like halsin just eats things sans cutting them lbh #it's a clever and nonchalant way for him to share because others are more likely to take small pieces than like a whole apple yk?#we should all benefit from the bounty we are provided every day and all that #and eventually near everyone just starts...taking it from him and he smiles and continues #i think my other basis for this is halsin just doesn't like seeing people suffer - whether that be neglecting their basic needs #(because he neglects his own self enough lmao but lemme not neglect my friends though they're important)#or isolating themselves or what and it stems from his desire of just wanting to help #and feels absolutely no offense if they brush him off #like okay but it'll still be here if you want it later ^_^#that's also why i am a sucker for the 'halsin offers to let astarion drink from him' trope in fics #because it goes along with the 'i don't want you to suffer and if i can help i will' even though as a druid #technically your existence is very dodgy to me (but halsin is just a nice person! that's really the long and short of it)#but like obviously disapproves if you do it without permission lol

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snickerdoodlles · 5 days

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Very Important Question about Vegas's Youtube era: how colorful is his cookware? Did Macau and Chay get him pink and green pineapple patterned mini-muffin trays?

Vegas's kitchen is so colorful. his kitchen looks like a cute kitchen pinterest board threw up all over it. nobody can tell if his aesthetic is retro or industrial or countryside or what, because it's this eclectic mishmash of individually cute instagram worthy things thrown together in a way that almost works but doesn't, because a proper pinterest board is always a hot fucking mess when taken in its entirety.

it first begins with items of whimsy. Macau shows Vegas a picture of a dinosaur ladle, Vegas says "what the fuck is that? father would never allow for those" and that alone manifests 12 of them in his shopping cart. feels very weird about it when they arrive and banishes the box of them to the forgotten corner of a cupboard. then Macau buys Pete his first pineapple jar. and like. it's a pineapple. that's all it is. Pete sticks it in Vegas's kitchen and Vegas is stuck staring at a ceramic pineapple that just looks like a pineapple, unable to figure out why it feels weird. Macau gets Pete a second pineapple jar, except this time it's also an owl face, and Vegas can't figure out why he wishes he was looking at that one instead of the regular pineapple one. he wants to hurl both of them at a wall so hard they leave a dent as they shatter. he wants to put them in a window where they'll be framed as the sun rises on them. he buys a spatula with a bee pattern on a whim all by himself and is so on edge about it for the next two weeks he whips welts onto (a very happy) Pete's back.

over the course of time, all of Vegas's kitchen supplies become items you'd expect to find on pinterest. bird salt and pepper shakers. cutely bland patterned jars labeled COFFEE and TEA. an industrial chic spice rack that sits under his cottagecore herb wall. highly specialized mini pans that make foods in special shapes. so many pastel pots and pans. at first Vegas is always saying stuff like "someone got that for me" or "my father would hate it." but it's not about that. later he's defiantly indifferent and daring about owning them at all. but it's not really about any of that either. it's really just...Vegas letting himself have cute things. things that would be called ~girly~ or ~ruin~ his image. there's actually several items he's just neutral about (like the soft pastel colors--not really his thing tbh! but a good pot is a good pot) or even sometimes dislikes (mini muffin trays = yay!, mini pans that only cook one(1) thing = frustration)-- but like. Vegas is allowed to have them. he's even fine to like them if he wants to. it doesn't matter that he has them. the image they paint of him doesn't matter. and that feeling of just owning cutesy, whimsical, or downright weird kitchen shit as he pleases without it being anything else is its own high for Vegas and his traumas ❤

#someone remind me to post the thing about pete's shitty design tastes for 'interior design' fic it's v similar 😂#so much of my goals for vegas in particular is vegas getting to just do whatever the hell he wants to do #because vegas was always playing to some agenda or another when all he actually wants to be is a guy who cooks for his loved ones and #rides bikes with his friends and obsess over his boyfriend over long weekends of freaky sex #my happy ending for vegas is one where his biggest concern is what he's gonna buy for dinner next week #his only responsibility is his own happiness and no other job at all #kinnporsche #fic: gone fishing #fic: interior design #fic headcanons

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nostalgia-tblr · 5 months

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I watched Avengers: Age of Ultron (apart from I skipped some overly long action sequences) and I am not sure so can someone tell me whether or not Tony Stark was the baddy in that film? Because about halfway through I was sure he was but then it was maybe just an evil robot after all and I am confused because either this film was surprisingly subversive or it was about robots hitting each other.

#I CANT STAND THE CONFUSION IN MY MIND #also i get why people wrote wanda/sylvie. they should go on a wholesome chick-flick revenge-quest together. and also they should kiss.#also i am now only *half* joking about thor being in love with mjolnir #it kept doing Christianity Bits which was quite awks.#not sure why it used the bit about building the church on a rock for some metal i mean wasn't jesus making a pun there? about peter?#i think Vision might be Jesus? or else he's Dr Manhattan who's done a first year philosophy course. could go either way on that tbh.#BUT TONY WAS THE BADDY RIGHT? WAS HE? WAS TONY THE BADDY OR NOT????#with the homocidal glitches in what he thinks is his winning personality?#and all the weapons he's made and is in fact still making but now he only sells them to The Good Guys?#except look how easily they fall out with each other and also don't a lot of innocent bystanders die in their overly long action scenes?#also i need to write fic about whether mjolnir does in fact obey some unknown code that can be cracked if you set your mind to it #she does like Robot Jesus so apparently we can rely on her to make the major decisions from now on #the ending's a bit ominous - apparently someone's collecting those TVA paperweights to do... something? Oh no! :O #yeah i watched the MCU in the wrong order shut up this was inevitable and Marvisney should just embrace that at this point #(i know 'Marvisney' will never catch on but that will not stop me using it)#the loki series ending is but the latest installment of “unlimited power with no oversight is fine as long as the Good people have it”#UNLESS TONY WAS ACTUALLY THE BADDY. WHICH AS I MENTIONED I AM NOT AT ALL CLEAR ON.#maybe what i mean is was tony stark the baddy *on purpose*?#i only picked this one to watch next because tumblr gifsets told me thor wears a nice coat in it #which he does! but only for a small fraction of the film :(#journey into the mcu #the avengers (the marvel ones not the other ones)

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slavhew · 2 months

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Hello!

If you're not too busy, would you mind listing some of the things you think count as death flags for Mr. Spender?

There's the obvious fact that he's the "old" mentor to group of young protagonists, but what else do you think would count?

OHH BOY ok so I'd think I'm a crackpot for this but since we're talking about Zack "Foreshadowing" Morrison. I have some thoughts

No harm in leading with the (chronologically) first thing that jumped out at me:

This one IMMEDIATELY made me antsy whenever I came back to it after my initial read, and considering Zack has referred to it on twitter in the past as one of their favorite jokes it's definitely not been forgotten about.

Second, the sheer amounts of near-misses, jokey or not, of Spender narrowly avoiding specifically lightning

Again, not much, but it's weird that it happened thrice, latter two of which had real gravitas rather than an one-off joke.

And third, Spender himself. He's repeatedly shown himself to be kind of a self sacrificing idiot, as well as prideful to a fault. Granted, it's both him and Mina trying to take on all the responsibility of saving Mayview and its inhabitants from their fate.. But Spender is exactly that right measure of doesn't-value-himself-enough (chest footprint aftercare or lack thereof), having an obscene amount of power (enables his loner act + pride) and poor judgement that has the capacity to put him at great risk. And it has!

Spender has not only shown low enough self-esteem to view himself as the de-facto scapegoat for the safety of the town, but also prideful enough to make very bad calls that end up in people, often himself, hurt (COUGH FORGE INCIDENT COUGH)

This is all conjecture, but it's definitely enough to make me worried about him :') Even if all this doesn't mean he'll necessarily die he's definitely getting (even more) seriously injured at some point. I love the guy but he's so far doing a horrible job of convincing me he wants to live bad enough to circumvent at least that

#not art #admin answers #paranatural #pnat #richard spender #pts-fic-notes-and-blog #before i continue on with tag ramble i just want to say tysm for leaving an ask!#none of my friends read this so ive been stewing on these thoughts for some months and i loved finally sharing them #this isn't exactly proof but the hijack possession seemingly being the final nail in the coffin for his and isabel's relationship.#idk it feels significant to me. thats one more tether to support kinda gone. someone who knows him well enough to know he's unwell #he seems not exactly content but fr incapable of not burning bridges as he is now. and considering how rashly he acts he REALLY needs those #to not do stupid shit all the god damn time with no buffer other than Lucifer. who for his measured approach to rick's hotheadedness #has honestly shown himself to be pretty lenient and kinda bad at controlling spender's more (self) destructive tendencies? so he dont count #to be clear i love spender to bits but he is dumb as rocks and has all the self preservation of a fruit fly. it needs to be said #also the lightning man... idk its WEIRD like especially on the reread its the thing that most consistently threatens him! it repeats #sure he gets chewed by a bat and banged up by forge but?? he somehow always comes back to lightning. catnine has it out for him #its something i didnt even really put together until i continued reading the flashback chapter AFTER getting this ask and went OHHHGNHF #which the only reason lightning is such a non issue is lucifer's powers. which belong to his sunglasses and not to the spirit in him #so its not like they can't be taken away he's just got a really good excuse for having those on all the time #TAGS GETTING SO LONG. ANYWAYS. i hope this is comprehensible lol

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thatonegayship · 6 months

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I loved the cowboy comic so much that I wrote a oneshot for it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/50934235 🥺 your art is BEYOND amazing, ty for the food

INCREDIBLE!!!!!

#billdip #I honestly loved this story start to finish with the ambience and quick pace #hadn't considered the possibility of Bill and Dipper actually working *together* but it's always a good time when they do ❤️#sorry it took so long to reblog 🥲#I read it like- Right when you posted. But I had to catch a plane and then drive an extra hour home and immediately get on zoom for class #and today i was just all around exhausted so i slept roughly 70% of the entire day dndsjdndnd #all that to say that I had your fic in the back of my mind and I very much wanted to set some time aside and re-read it when I got the chan #honestly with how well you set things up I would've loved to see your own rendition of their first kiss #You established their relationship really well at the start and brought them together by the end after outsmsrtong those bandits #it feels like you have a better understanding of who they are to each other than even i do 😌 very much a fan #i love when stories incorporate those sort of 'habits' that the love interests fall into #that confuses character A while character B is so clearly using it as an excuse to get close and spend more time with them #i squealed like a maniac when Bill was like oooph lemme walk you home 😏🤠#sir i am going to wrangle you up if you don't compose yourself #and Dipper's just wary of him because people as handsome as bill used to pick on him 😢#little does he know he's grown into a 10/10 cutie patootie that any cowboy would be stupid NOT to smooch #I'm a simple man. I read oblivious low-confidence cowboy being pursued by a hottie on a horse. I lose my shit #Awesome wonderful writing!!! so happy to have caught your eye and i hope to continue pumping out content for this wonderfully weird ship

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singsweetmelodies · 9 months

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AKA: angst, miscommunication and a/b/o, feat. brief/mentioned maxierre with piarles endgame (+ implied maxiel.) happy birthday @boxboxbrioche my love

"Hello, Charles," Max smiles when Charles runs into him (literally) in the Budapest paddock on Thursday. He's wearing the same Red Bull team shirt and jeans as ever, naturally, but something about him looks unusually relaxed and content. Sated, even.

Probably because he's been winning practically every race this season, Charles thinks. That's enough reason for anyone to be looking relaxed and content.

Still, when he steps in a little closer to fist-bump Max's proffered hand, he can't help but notice it. Max's scent is... more than just content. He smells like he's only just come out of heat, and whoever was taking care of him did a very good job of it. He doesn't smell like sex, precisely, but he smells like what Charles would imagine afterglow would, if it had a scent. Golden and lazy and sated.

Oh, he's got blockers on, of course, but Charles has always been blessed (or cursed, depending how you look at it) with a very good nose. So. He knows immediately.

Some too-perceptive instinct is telling him that the timing of this heat has something to do with Daniel's return to racing this weekend. Almost like Max... wanted to get his heat over with before he saw Daniel again?

...That's a big stretch, of course, and Charles would never dare say it out loud. (Except to Pierre, maybe, because Pierre loves theorising about the latest paddock gossip just as much as Charles does.)

So he just smiles politely at Max, and says "Hello" back, and wishes for Pierre to appear out of some corner of the paddock somewhere. It isn't that Charles hates Max, or whatever the media likes to spin, but it's also true that Max isn't Charles' most favourite person in the paddock. (Obviously, that honour goes to Pierre.)

No, Charles' and Max's relationship is simply that of colleagues - good enough, if a little bland.

Which is why Charles is not expecting it at all when Max leans a little closer with something that looks almost like a conspiratorial grin. Charles has no idea what Max might want to be conspiratorial about with him - it's not as though he's leaving Ferrari anytime soon, despite what everyone likes to speculate.

Surprisingly, what Max says to him is not racing or incident-related at all. "Do you know where Pierre is?" he asks, as though Charles is the most reliable source of the Alpine driver's whereabouts. (Charles shouldn't be, but he's very flattered.) "I still need to thank him."

"Thank him?" Charles echoes, a little puzzled. "For what?"

And then Max says the one thing that blows apart Charles' world and turns his day upside-down immediately. "For agreeing to spend my heat with me so last-minute."

He says it so casually, too, and Charles...

Well. Charles knows that many of the other unbonded omegas on the grid like to spend their heats with other drivers. This might seem contradictory at first, but the thing is - while they might not necessarily trust each other on track, you can always rely on the fact that another driver, at least, won't reveal details of that hook-up to the press anymore than you will. Most of the alpha drivers on the current grid are decent enough people off-track that you can trust you'd be taken good care of, too.

It's something that Charles has done himself, too, once or twice - mostly with Alex, who is always incredibly kind about it, and makes sure Charles is comfortable and well-hydrated afterwards.

But mostly, Charles spends his heats alone. He schedules them carefully so they won't interfere with races, and then he bears them on his own, teeth gritted as he works himself open over and over again and clings to whatever article of Pierre's clothing he can find nearby.

It's never good enough, never, but Charles has never really wanted another alpha. He only goes to Alex if his body genuinely cannot go without it anymore, and then it's purely a case of friend helping out a friend.

So, really, Charles has no reason to be this shocked that Max apparently spent his most recent heat with Pierre. The two of them are friends, aren't they? Much better than Charles and Max have ever pretended to be. There's no reason why they wouldn't spend a heat together, really.

Except...

Charles grits his teeth, and it's only years of media training that enables him to still pass it off as a smile. "He did?" he asks, tightly.

Max laughs, still happily unaware that he's taken Charles' day and shattered it like a glass breaking into unrecognisable shards. "Yes," he confirms, and then he bumps Charles' shoulder, almost unbearably conspiratorial again. "You, of course, would know why I now need to thank him."

No amount of media training in the world could have helped Charles keep up his smile in response to that. Max notices - how could he not - and his own smile falls. "You two have not...?" His voice rises up in the end, like he almost can't believe he even has to ask the question.

Charles tastes something sour in his mouth, and by the way Max flinches back, he's sure it must be all over his scent as well, blockers be damned. "No," is all Charles says, brusquely.

Max opens and closes his mouth for a moment, and then he reaches for Charles' shoulder. He hesitates, though, hand hovering awkwardly in the space between them. "I'm sorry," he says, and it sounds sincere. "For assuming. The two of you are so..." He makes a face. "You are good friends, so I thought if he would do it for me, he would of course do it for you too."

"No," Charles says again, and the word tastes acrid in his mouth. "We have never."

Not for lack of trying, Charles thinks bitterly, and then he forces himself to think of something else. Some excuse that Max will accept.

Fortunately, a little gaggle of people in bright Ferrari red are passing by, and Charles latches onto them with almost too much relief. "Ah, my team," he says, pointing. "I need to go."

It's stupidly obvious, as excuses go, but Max has the grace not to mention it. He just watches Charles go, biting his lip.

Charles wants to hate him. He wants to hate him more than anything else - for having a race-winning car, and a team that supports him properly, and championships, but more importantly than any of that, Charles wants to hate him for having Pierre.

It's not that Charles thinks Max is actually in love with Pierre, or even that they're courting. No, it was clearly just a case of friend-helping-out-friend. But even that is...

Unbearable. It is unbearable, because Charles hasn't had even that much.

Charles had only asked once, and only because he'd been stupid with pre-heat already and not thinking straight. Pierre's long, long silence before he'd said, very gently, "Charles... I don't think that's a good idea" had told him all he'd needed to know, anyway.

After that heat, though, Pierre had called Charles and made sure he was okay, and that he knew it wasn't personal, Pierre just didn't think it was a good idea to get that involved with another driver. Especially one who's also a friend.

Charles had accepted it at the time, and he's never had any reason to think that Pierre has changed his mind in any way.

Except now here Pierre is, apparently spending heats with Max fucking Verstappen, of all people. And, really. Out of everyone on the grid - every goddamn omega - it had to be Max, didn't it?

A part of Charles wants to fall to the floor in devastation, wants to tear at his hair and shake and cry to anyone who will listen, why doesn't he want me, why doesn't he want me?

But Charles remains standing, because even more than he's heartbroken, he's furious.

Pierre did not help Max through his heat because they're in love, or because they're courting. So, he must have done it as a favour to a friend.

Then why the hell would he not do the same for Charles?

Charles also asked him as a favour to a friend (and yes, maybe Charles wanted more, but he wasn't stupid enough to ask for that. He'd just asked for a favour, the way every unbonded omega on the goddamned grid asks their alpha friends for favours every once in a while.)

Pierre had said no, and that he doesn't do that. But he'd forgotten to mention the part where he apparently does do that.

If he were here, Charles might slap him clean through the face. It's not an urge he's often had when it comes to Pierre (or ever, really) but today...

Today. It's just. What the hell does Max have that he doesn't? Max and Pierre are friends? Charles and Pierre are better friends. Max is an omega? So is Charles, and he's better at that, too.

It's obviously not even about looks! Because Charles doesn't want to be rude, but he is definitely better-looking than Max. It's just a fact, as true as "the grass is green" or "Charles is Monégasque" or "Charles is in love with Pierre."

No. Fuck that. None of this makes sense.

If Pierre is willing to spend a heat with Max, then there's no reason why he can't help Charles through one, too. It's not like Charles is asking Pierre to love him back - no, he's long since made his peace with the fact that that, at least, is impossible.

Charles has always wanted too much, though, and if he sees even the faintest chance of getting what he wants, even if it is just in the form of a favour to a friend -- well. He will never not go for the gap.

So Charles waits, increasingly impatient, for his media and team obligations to be done for the day. As soon as they are, he heads for Alpine, because there is no way Pierre will have left already - he is far too dedicated to them, staying behind extra hours to learn as many names as he can and give as much feedback as possible and help with everything that needs helping.

Right, because isn't Pierre just so incredibly helpful. Normally, this would make Charles smile, fond - but today, it makes him want to snarl.

Helpful, yes. Except to him, apparently.

No. Charles will not accept that.

Various team members glance up when Charles storms into the Alpine hospitality, freezing with coffees half-way to their lips and tracking him like the spectators to a tennis match as he storms across their building and towards the driver's rooms. One particularly brave soul ventures an "Er..." but Charles is already across the room before he's even finished saying it.

Charles knows the way to Pierre's driver's room as easily as he knows the way to his own (incidentally, it's on the same side of the building) and it's mere seconds later that he's bursting through the door of Pierre's driver's room.

Pierre freezes when the door slams open, mouth caught in a comically surprised expression, but it relaxes quickly into a fond (if still somewhat surprised) smile. "Charlito!" he says, standing up and reaching a hand in Charles' general direction. "This is a nice surprise."

But Charles is not in any mood for pleasantries. "Did you spend a heat with Max," he asks, but it's not really a question as much as it is an accusation, pointed and sharp.

Pierre freezes again, the smile slowly dropping off his face. His scent goes bitter with unpleasant surprise. "I -"

"If you lie to me, I am going to slap you," Charles says, injecting the words with just enough of a snarl that Pierre will know he's not messing around.

Pierre's expression goes from shocked to hurt to angry almost faster than Charles can process. "I wasn't going to lie to you, Charlo. I would never. Not with you."

He sounds sincere enough about it that Charles almost feels guilty, but then Pierre adds, "He's just a friend who needed a favour" and Charles is right back to furious.

"I was a friend, and I needed a favour," Charles says bitingly. He doesn't have to say anything more, because he knows Pierre will understand exactly what he means.

Pierre's face shutters, closing off completely. Even his scent goes blank, like Pierre is deliberately shutting off every part of himself. "That's different."

"How?" Charles hisses at him, and Pierre obviously wasn't expecting the vehemence of it, because he stumbles a step back. "How the hell is it different, huh?"

Pierre's expression does something complicated, and he makes a rough noise, low in the back of his throat. "It just is," he says, and refuses to elaborate.

Charles is livid. "It just is?!" he explodes. "Tell me how it just is, Pierrot, because I sure as fuck don't get it. I am your friend - non, I am your best friend - but when I ask for this favour, you say no. Then when it is Max, you say yes?"

"It's different," Pierre says again, sharply, as though sharpness alone will make Charles drop the subject.

He really doesn't know Charles if he thinks that will work. "It is not different. Not at all. What, unless you are trying to say that you don't want me?"

"Of course I-" Pierre starts, then cuts himself off with a groan, dragging a hand down his face. "I don't want to do this with you, Charles."

"Well, I want to do this with you," Charles retorts, unfazed and as fuming as ever. "What is it, huh, Pierre? You prefer Max over me?"

"Of course not," Pierre says, and he has the audacity to sound almost offended.

"But you must, if you fucked him and not me," Charles snaps. He's not entirely sure what he's trying to accomplish here, but he knows - he knows that he's furious, and Pierre is being a fucking asshole, and he needs Pierre to admit that much. At least.

Pierre, however, seems determined to continue being a stubborn asshole. "It wasn't like that," he insists, and Charles sees red.

"It's exactly like that! I asked you to fuck me, to help me through my heat, and you said no because you do not want me."

And that, somehow, is the last straw.

"Shut up, Charles," Pierre growls - actually growls - at him. "Just, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I don't?" Charles snaps right back, goading. "Why don't you tell me, then?"

Pierre snarls again, guttural and furious, and Charles knows that he should be terrified. But right now, he's far too furious to care.

"Tell me," Charles goads again, because he knows that nothing will ever compel Pierre as much as a challenge will.

Pierre is breathing hard, his fists clenched, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly. "You think you know what happened with Max, huh?" he asks, and Charles has never heard him sound like that. Despite himself, it sends a thrill through Charles' whole body. "You think you know what I want and don't want?"

Charles lets his belligerent silence do the talking for him, and Pierre's eyes flash. "Well, do you know that none of it is true? Do you know that none of the rumours of me with all those omegas are true?"

"What do you--" Charles begins, but Pierre cuts him off with a single hand held up, raised as sharply as a slap.

"Do you know, Charlito," he says, almost viciously, "that I've never been able to date any other omega for longer than a few months because I was always comparing them to you?"

Charles jolts where he stands, all the breath wrenched from him. "What--"

But Pierre doesn't give him a moment to process that. "Do you know that I only agreed to spend this heat with Max because he was desperate and out of options?"

"Do you know," Pierre continues, dangerously soft, "that I had to think of you just to be able to come at all?" He stalks a single step closer to Charles. "Do you know that I had to pretend it was you all the time just so that my knot wouldn't go down?" Another step, and Charles is shaking all over, but he can't move. Pierre has him pinned down, completely rooted to the spot with his scorching gaze and world-ending words.

"Do you know," Pierre concludes, softest of all, "why I really said I wouldn't spend a heat with you?"

Charles isn't sure how he even manages to form the word. "Why?"

Pierre's eyes are so, so dark as he stops just in front of Charles, raising one hand to ghost just millimetres above Charles' collarbone. "Because," he says, and his voice is rough. "I knew that if I did, Charles, if I fucked you even just once, I wouldn't be able to hold back. I would bite you, then and there, and I would make you mine."

All the while that he's been speaking, Pierre has been tracing his fingers upwards, a slow, slow torturous slide mere centimetres above Charles' skin. Charles can almost feel the heat of his touch, almost but not quite, and when Pierre stops just below Charles' mating gland - Charles whines and shudders forward, the combination of Pierre's hand there and that word mine too much for him to resist.

Pierre's fingers touch the overheated skin of Charles' mating gland, and the world explodes.

Charles' knees buckle, and his head spins, and he has to press his thighs together in a desperate effort to ease the sudden and burning need there. He's wet, he can feel it, leaking slick all over the place just from that one touch.

Pierre jerks his hand back, of course, but even that split-second of contact was enough to destroy Charles perfectly.

Pierre is panting, and he looks about as wrecked as Charles feels. "So do not stand there and tell me that I don't want you, Charles," he says, and his voice shakes - anger or desperation, Charles can't tell. "Not when I have done nothing but want you for as long as I have known how to want."

Charles shudders, the full weight of Pierre's words sinking in on him all at once. As Charles stands there, processing, he watches as the world rearranges itself entirely.

Charles breathes in, and then he breathes out. "Fuck you, Pear," he says, only a little shakily. "No, seriously, fuck you. How obvious do you need me to be? I literally asked you to spend my heat with me!"

For a moment, Pierre looks so indignant that he forgets to be angry. "You asked it as a favour to a friend!" he protests. "I just said, I can't do that! Not if it's you."

"Yeah, well," Charles says waspishly, "I only asked it like that because I thought you would say no otherwise."

And all at once, Pierre's expression transforms as he comes to the same sudden and brilliant realisation Charles just had.

"Charles," he says, shell-shocked. "If you're saying what I think you're saying..."

He glances down at his hands, clenches them tightly into fists again, then looks back up at Charles, his gaze burning. "You have to know, you can't take it back. I'm not going to let you take it back. Not if you mean it."

"God, Pierre, you are so fucking stupid," Charles says, and alright, maybe he is still a little angry about the whole situation, after all. (He thinks he has the right to be, though.) "Why do you think I was so angry that you went for Max?"

When Pierre doesn't say anything immediately, Charles snaps off a sharp step into Pierre's space, flicking his fingers against Pierre's forehead. "Yeah, it's because I wanted you to choose me. Only me."

Pierre's hand comes up, grabbing Charles' wrist in a bruise-tight hold. He draws Charles' hand away from his face, but then he doesn't let go, just keeps holding on, fingers circling Charles' wrist like they're meant to fit there. "Only you?" he echoes, and it sounds like a question.

Charles nods, because there was never any other answer, and he's about to say it, too, but then Pierre kisses the words right off his mouth.

If Charles' world hadn't already exploded so thoroughly earlier, then it would now.

It's a good kiss. No, it's better than a good kiss - it's a fucking incredible kiss; Pierre's one hand still wrapped around Charles' wrist while the other finds its way to his waist, like it belongs there. Pierre kisses him like he's still a little angry, but also like he's never meant anything more, pouring every part of his soul into it. Pierre kisses him like he's already imagining the night they're going to spend together after this, and he kisses Charles like how he's planning to fuck him later.

Charles has no objections to that. None at all.

Well. Except the one.

He pulls away from the kiss, pressing his palm hard to the side of Pierre's face. "You're going to spend my next heat with me," he says, orders more like, and it's far too possessive, but he can't bring himself to care. Not one goddamned bit.

Pierre growls, low in his throat, and pulls Charles even closer to him. "No, chéri," he says, too-softly. "I'm going to spend every single heat with you from now on. Forever."

"Forever," Charles breathes, and then he kisses Pierre again, hard, making it a promise. "Forever."

#posted this at 01:16 which is not QUITE 1016 but as close as i could get on this fine evening #HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRIONYYYY #myfic #piarles fic #10 x 16 #maxierre #(technically)#(they're really only there as a plot device to get us to piarles endgame)#in other news WHOA MY GOD THIS GOT LONG #(who's surprised....)#but i SWEAR the intention was just to write you something short and sweet for your birthday today since #since we'll only be releasing the main fic later #(well; i say short and sweet; but i don't think SWEETNESS was ever the intention. i wanted to write possessiveness)#(and also miscommunication and misunderstanding and all them GLORIOUS angsty tropes)#and since i have absolutely no self-control to speak of... here we are #BRIONY. my love. i love you so much #please accept this humble offering of my first ever publicly posted a/b/o on the occasion of your birthday #sorry for making the boys angry at each other but i unfortunately think it's very hot to make them scream confessions at each other #hot angry confessions... CHEF'S KISS #and i really hope you like this too!! and go as insane as i did over certain lines #because by God... i fear that you have created a monster #now that i have discovered a/b/o i am NEVER LOOKING BACK #this was so fucking fun to write oh my god. JEEZ #but anyways!! getting distracted here #HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN MY LOVE #and before you say this is too much.... NO. we can never celebrate your birthday too much #this is just more proof to that end #LOVE YOU ENDLESSLY ❤️❤️❤️#briony's birthday bonanza 😘

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