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awanderingdeal · 3 years

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Never too late - 8

An eternity later and it is here! Part 8 of 'Never too Late'. How much of this is me projecting? You'll never know.

CW: Food, alcohol, feelings of queer exclusion at prom, coming out, [very minor and it is shut down] compulsory sexuality.

Please message me if you feel I missed anything out.

Just a note, that due to the POV of this fic, there is a lot of linking between relationships and romance to prom. I just want to reiterate that prom absolutely does not have to be a romantic event if you do not want it to. The beef is more that queer kids do not always have the choice to go with their partners safely, and the stress of not knowing whether it would have been okay or not.

I hope that all of you that wanted to were able to have the prom you wanted and if you weren't able to, please know it is just ONE day. Throw your own if you want to. Don't if you don't want to. I know for myself, I have a lot of feelings about it, so please don't read this if it going to upset you.

Rating: T

Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist.

All credit for Sweater Weather and these characters go to @lumosinlove

8. Go to a dance. Kiss your first love. Well, at least you think they are anyway. But remember kids, consent always.

Leo was excited, to say the least. Sprawled on his bed, laptop in front of him and his cell to the right, he knew it was getting late, but he wanted to research a little longer. He had a venue and a catering team locked down; the latter he had done reluctantly, after yet another person had told him that he absolutely could not cater the event himself.

His phone buzzed insistently, and Leo grunted. Why would anybody call when you could just text? He grunted again when he read the caller id.

Regulus. What a traitor.

“Hello?” Leo answered, rolling onto his back. He felt a tightness in his lumbar region, and made a mental note to mention it to Hestia in the morning if the sensation was still there when he woke up.

“Go to sleep.”

“ I will soon,” Leo hummed. “Did you look at my text?”

“Leo. It’s 2am.”

“Yes, I worked very hard to learn to tell the time, thank you.” In truth, the last time Leo remembered checking the time, it had still been the previous day. Logan had a popped his head around the door to tell Leo that he and Finn were going to crash in one of the other rooms, and that Leo should get some sleep soon. Leo had nodded and assured Logan he wouldn’t be too long.

Regulus’ sigh on the other end of the phone interrupted his memory.

“And you’re getting cranky,” Regulus said. Leo could imagine the smooth raised eyebrow that accompanied the words. “If I tell you which theme I like, will you go to sleep?”

Leo shifted, pushing himself up against the stack of pillows. He nodded eagerly, before remembering Regulus couldn’t see him. “Yes. I promise.”

“I like both -”

“That is not helpful!”

“Wait a second. Merde. You should combine them.”

“That’s,” Leo wrinkled his nose, contemplating the idea. “That’s actually kind of genius.”

“You can thank me later,” Regulus offered smugly. “After you’ve got some sleep.”

***

“So Reg, who’s the lucky person who gets to be your date to this thing?” Finn asked, plucking a brownie from the plate in the middle of the table, before settling into the seat opposite Leo.

“It’s not a thing!” Leo protested.

“Sorry, babe. This prom,” Finn grinned.

Regulus worried his lip between his teeth, looking first at Leo and then turning his gaze back to Finn. “Do I have to go with someone?”

“Yes,” Finn said resolutely, at the same time as Leo shook his head, giving the opposite answer.

“No,” Leo repeated, narrowing his eyes at Finn. “People go to prom with friends all the time.”

“Okay, yeah, fine. You don’t have to,” Finn agreed, giving a placating smile. Leo hated that it worked. If he were being honest, they should probably utilise the O’Hara smile in diplomatic relations. “But don’t you want to have the quintessential prom kiss?”

“Finn -”

“I was actually thinking I could borrow Leo,” Regulus rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Apparently Finn didn't catch it though. His face contorted into a thousand different expressions in the space of a second. Conflicted. Contemplative. Accepting. “Well...I guess I’d be okay with it, if Leo is, but Lo-”

“That was a joke, Finn,” Regulus laughed.

“Oh, right,” Finn laughed as well, the tips of his cheeks tinged pink. “Well. Yeah. Prom kisses are nice. I had sex for the first time on my prom. Although, she did cheat on my two months later, so maybe I’m not the best example to follow,” he rambled.

“That was a lot to learn about somebody in a very short amount of time," Regulus commented, clutching his mug between his hands.

Finn shrugged, leaning forward to grab another brownie, seemingly uncaring about the wealth of information he had just offered.

***

“Hey, Le?”

Leo looked up from his phone, finding Regulus hovering next to him, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He cocked his head slightly in question.

“Can we talk?”

Leo frowned, setting his phone down on the coffee table and patted the seat next to him on the sofa. “You don’t usually ask,” he smirked.

Regulus’ smile back seemed strained, but Leo didn’t comment on it. “Earlier,” Regulus started as he took a seat, playing with the tips of his fingers before he stopped abruptly, placing them in his lap. “In the kitchen? What Finn said?”

Leo sighed gently, “Ignore him. Finn’s mouth and his feet are well acquainted. You know Finn. He just doesn't always think before he speaks. I’m sorry if he upset you.”

“You shouldn’t apologise for your boyfriend. If I wanted an apology I would have gone to him.” ” Regulus chided. His expression softened, his next intake of breath larger than usual. “Can you just listen?”

“Sorry,” Leo turned to look at Regulus properly. “You were saying?”

Regulus gave a small nod. “I don’t think I want that.”

Leo opened his mouth to speak, remembered Regulus’ request and snapped it shut again.

“Not the kisses. Not the sex. None of it. I think I’m asexual” The words came out in a single, hurried burst, but Regulus seemed to stumble over the last one, as if it was unfamiliar to him, unpractised. Leo could picture his friend frantically asking google questions, refining each search as he learned new information. He’d been there himself once.

A silence hung in the air, the two of them staring at one another, with an intensity that was making Leo feel uncomfortable, but he didn't want to be the first to break eye contact.

“Désolé," Regulus blinked. "Say something. Please."

Leo shuffled forward, his arms outstretched. “I’m going to hug you now.” He waited a beat to allow Regulus to protest, before pulling him close. Regulus sat stiffly, taking a moment to relax into the embrace and when he did, Leo squeezed him a little tighter. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I knew you’d be okay with it,” Regulus grumbled. Leo was sure he heard a hint of relief despite the attempt to appear ambivalent. He let Regulus go, putting some space between them again, knowing his friend had more personal space boundaries than Leo was used to dealing with.

“It’s still scary. Even if you’re almost certain it’s going to be alright. And just in case you need to hear it, I love you, you’re valid and even if you decide that’s not the right label for you that’s okay too.”

“What are you? Like, gay Yoda?” Regulus gave a small laugh, but he sniffed wetly. “Thanks.”

��A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defence, never for attack,” Leo made a fist, wrapped his other hand over the top and bowed his head.

“Nerd.”

“Wait, can I ask you a question?” Regulus’ consenting nod was slow and tentative. “Does this mean you’d prefer if I stop sending you half naked photos every other day?” Leo let the corner of his mouth curl into a smirk.

Regulus barked a very uncharacteristic laugh, deep and loud. “While I can appreciate the aesthetic appeal of Chris Evans, yes, I’ve seen enough of that man to last me many lifetimes .” He punched Leo lightly in the knee. Leo raised an eyebrow at the very frat - boy inspired action, and Regulus made a face that suggested he wasn’t quite sure where it had come from either. “I’m sure company is not an issue for you in this household, but don’t worry I’ll still watch The Avengers with you.”

“A real hero,” Leo drawled. “Hey.” He met Regulus’ eyes, his tone taking on a more serious note again. “You know you can tell Finn. And Logan, right? If that’s what you want. Whenever you’re ready. They’ll be cool.”

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed. “I don’t doubt it.”

“And if they’re not. I’ll personally kick them in the balls for you.”

***

Leo fussed with his bowtie in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that, trying to decide if it was straight.

“Stop. You look great. They’re going to die,” Regulus declared, making Leo jump slightly. He’d known the man was in the room, but his best friend had a habit of just appearing beside him unannounced.

Leo took another look in the mirror, running his fingers over the slightly raised texture of his initials monogrammed into the teal suspenders. “Yeah, I guess I’ll do,” he hummed, turning to face Regulus, scanning his eyes over him. Even Leo had been surprised by Regulus’ choice of attire, knowing now why he had kept the outfit such a secret. “Bold choice,” he remarked.

“Too much?”

“No,” Leo shook his head. Maybe it would have been on somebody else, but Regulus wore the mustard yellow three - piece effortlessly. He reached out to touch the blue sapphire that embellished the lapel, a gold chain linking it to the breast pocket. “Not at all. I’m just jealous.”

“Alright boys, are we ready?” Alex asked, clapping his hands together.

“Yeah.”

“As we’ll ever be.”

“Ready!” Kuny boomed, making a show of checking his pocket watch, the gold chain attaching it to his vest was somehow, even more ornate than Regulus’.

The four of them turned to glance at Remus, the only one in the room left to reply. Shrugging his jacket over his shoulders, Remus smiled. “I guess I can’t play with this tie any longer.”

“Alright then. I don’t know a lot about you guys, but I want to see my boyfriend,” Alex rocked on his feet, Leo chuckled, the man pretended he was so much more chill than his younger brother, but excitement seemed to bubble under his skin all the same. Leo didn’t blame Alex though, separating the partners into different rooms had seemed like a good idea earlier in the evening, but now he just wanted to see Finn and Logan, ideally before he exploded with anticipation. He couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for those of them that had to wait for their partners to arrive from the Potter’s house, where the ladies had opted to get ready.

“Yes. I want see Jackson,” Kuny nodded resolutely.

“Lord, help me,” Regulus whined. Leo just laughed, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

***

“Cap! Stop undressing Loops with your eyes, he put a lot of effort into finding that suit.”

“Kuny. Put Nado down. There are people here.”

“Harzy. Are you crying?”

“You can close your mouth now, Leo.” Regulus tapped a finger lightly against Leo’s jaw. He would have tried to defend himself from the accusation, but he couldn’t deny the quiet clink of his teeth snapping back together.

“I’m just going to need a minute,” Leo mumbled, dragging his eyes over Finn and Logan’s bodies.

“Take your time,” Regulus chuckled. “Is-” Regulus leaned forward, squinting slightly. “Does Finn’s jacket match the invites.”

“I think they’re flowers.” Although, from afar, the swirls of blue and silver painted over the jacket did resemble the night sky artwork the two of them had settled on for the invites. Leo had insisted they needed them despite Regulus’ very valid point that saw all of the attendees at least once a week. “I’m going to go and check,” Leo waved a hand towards his boyfriends. He could see Logan’s lips moving, Finn’s grin widening with each word and Leo wanted in on that conversation.

“Sure,” Regulus hummed. “You go and do that.”

Leo stole a glance behind him as he crossed the short distance of their lounge, feeling a pang of guilt about leaving Regulus so easily on what was supposed to be his night. He needn't have worried though, he had barely taken a few paces before Regulus was swarmed by Thomas and James. Leo huffed a laugh at Regulus' disgruntled expression as they fawned at his suit.

***

“Leo. Regulus. Welcome! These must be your guests.” Estella, the only one of fifteen event planners that he and Regulus could agree on, smiled wide. “Is everybody here? I can always have somebody come and meet any stragglers?”

“No, this is all of us,” Leo confirmed. Corralling everybody into the two limos had been a task, but somehow they had all managed to make it to the museum without anybody being left behind.

“Alright then. Follow me. I think you’re going to love what we’ve settled on.” Estella turned on her heel, tight curls bouncing behind her as she led them up the grand staircase. Leo had been to The Natural History museum many times during the day, but the place had a strange sense of awe without the usual bustle of visitors, and he couldn’t wait to see what the events hall had been transformed into.

Estella pushed the ornate double doors open, blocking the entrance with her body. She must have noticed how Leo’s feet itched with anticipation because she gave a small smirk as she stepped aside. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen. I’ll be around should you need anything."

Leo looked back at the group behind him; his team, his friends, his family, and felt the pool of anxiety that had been bubbling in his stomach all day, churn again. This evening had started off as being for Regulus, but it had quickly grown beyond that. While prom wasn’t inherently romantic, the traditions that came alongside it were embroiled with ideas that had marginalised so many of them, even if they hadn’t realised it at the time. A part of him hated that a high school event that was truly insignificant in the grand scheme of things could hold so much weight. He wanted to rebel, to not let it be important at all. Another just wanted to be able to give them all the night they had wished for back then.

“What’s the delay?” Natalie’s voice shook Leo from his head, and he glanced to his left at Regulus before moving into the room.

Estella and her team had really come through. They had weaved Leo and Regulus’ ideas on decoration into something spectacular. He had to force himself not to pause again, waiting until he was less of an obstruction to the rest of them, to stop and look up at the ceiling. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny lights strung to look exactly like the night sky. Right in the centre, Leo recognised the pattern to be that of his namesake, one light slightly brighter than all the rest.

“Hey,” Sirius clapped a hand on Regulus’s shoulder. “How come you get to be up there and I don’t.”

“Can’t stand not to be the centre of attention can you, big brother?” Regulus shot back and Sirius just shook his head with a laugh, hurrying after Remus.

***

“This one is for all you loved up folk out there,” the DJ’s voice rang through the room, the music slowly fading from a thuddy beat into the tender piano notes of the next song.

Leo winced as Marlene squealed, tugging Dorcas from her chair, the latter almost tripping over her train in the rush, although she regained her composure quickly. She moved just as swiftly in her heels as Marlene did in her black and white oxfords. He watched the two of them leave, Dorcas’ emerald green dress almost sparkling as it caught the light.

“Go on,” Regulus nudged Leo, tilting his head in the direction of where Finn and Logan had already procured a spot on the dance floor. “Go dance with your boys.”

Leo glanced at Regulus, before turning his gaze to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. He contorted his features into a series of faces that to anybody else probably seemed nonsensical, but they caught on perfectly, answering his silent question with simultaneous nods of their heads.

“Or,” Leo placed his hand, palm upright, on the table. “You could do me the honour?”

“I’m not,” Regulus wrinkled his nose. “You don’t need to -”

“Indulge me, Reggie.”

“Only if you stop calling me that,” Regulus sighed, grasping Leo’s hand. “I’m leading.”

Regulus, it turned out, could dance. Leo was passable. He let himself be led around the floor, laughing with his friend at all the couples that weren’t quite as accomplished, his boyfriend’s included.

The music flowed seamlessly from the deep tones of John Legend into the lighter ones of Taylor Swift.

“Yes! My girl, Tay Tay. Now we’re talking.”

Regulus rolled his eyes playfully, “Calm down, Le. I think your gay is showing.”

“Okay, Karen.”

“I am wounded,” Regulus clutched his hand to chest, placing it back on Leo’s hip without missing a beat. He looked up, smiling at Leo softly. “You should go and dance with them now. I think they could do with your help.”

“Non!” Logan argued, stumbling over Finn’s feet once again. “I know how to dance. It is Finn who is a liability,” he added, as they came to a halt beside Leo and Regulus.

***

Reg! Did you see Kam sent the link for the photos?

I did. You want to look at them together, non?

Oui, Oui! Come over now?

Leo waited to receive the confirmation text, before he hurried into the kitchen to compile a selection of snacks, as well as a jug of lemon water for Finn. On his final trip, he added the ever-present jug of sweet tea from the fridge to the tray, setting it all up on the table in front of the TV in the lounge.

“Baby Black is coming over then?” Logan teased, sprawling onto the sofa next to Leo.

“Sssh,” Leo whined, pressing a finger to Logan’s lips. “Otherwise no doughnuts for you.”

Logan gasped, launching himself at Leo, his hands finding the spot below Leo’s ribs where he was most ticklish. “How dare you threaten me with such things?”

“Stop it,” Leo spluttered between laughs, squirming away from the assault. Thankfully the doorbell rang just as Leo thought he was going to have to tap out, Logan letting him up to go and answer it.

It took a few minutes to get all four of them settled on the couch and the photos casting from his cell to the TV, but eventually they managed it.

Kam, and their assistant, had done a great job of capturing the entire night, from everybody getting ready to a very drunk James and Evgeni snoring softly against the giant moon structure. James was swamped by Evgeni’s checked suit jacket and James’ pinstripe one hung from Evgeni’s arm.

“Did you three plan this?” Regulus laughed as a photo of Sirius, Logan and Pascal appeared on the screen. The three of them had chosen to go with a classic tuxedo, albeit with slight variations.

“We did not. We just all have impeccable taste,” Logan retorted.

“Oh my God!” Finn sat forward, squinting at the screen. “They definitely planned that though.” He waved at the image of Alex and Kasey, their suits the same but in reverse; Alex’s jacket a navy blue with a checked grey vest and Kasey the opposite.

“Finn babe,” Leo frowned, sliding Finn’s glasses onto his face. “How did you go the entire night without noticing that. Aren’t you supposed to be the fashion connoisseur, here?”

“I was distracted!” Finn protested. “By…” he beamed as a photo of him, Leo and Logan replaced the previous image. “That.”

Regulus faked a gag, swiping at the phone to get a new photo. Any argument that was about to ensue was abruptly ended as they all burst into laughter. On the screen, a sheepish looking Pascal was being berated by Estella, her finger pointing to the sign to the left of the vine covered swing that Pascal was sitting on that read, ‘For decorative purposes only’.

They went through hundreds of photos. Some of them were sweet; Natalie with her arms wrapped around Regulus’s waist pressing a kiss to his cheek. Some of them were silly; everybody sat in rows on the dancefloor, their arms out to side. Some of them staged; Regulus and Leo sat on the big arm chairs beneath the origami stars. All of them captured tiny moments that none of them wanted to forget.

Leo tucked his head against Regulus' shoulder, trying to stifle his tears. He wasn't upset, not at all. It was just a lot. Seeing it all again. And then he remembered that all the decorations had been donated. Most of the woodland pieces, including the huge faux tree that had stood in the middle of one of the tables had gone to a local young theatre troupe that were struggling to finance their show, and the starry night pieces had gone to a group that were organising a Queer prom for the region's high schoolers that maybe didn't feel accepted at their own. For Leo, knowing that young kids like himself could take their prom photos with whomever they wanted, could truly decide whether they wanted to go with friends or their partners without fear, was the best part of all. Regulus wrapped his arm around Leo, pulling him closer.

"Thank you, I had the best prom ever."

#regulus black #leo knut #sweater weather #lumosinlove #rating: t #food #alcohol #compulsory sexuality #prom #coming out

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ex-vengeancedemon · 3 years

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Payback and Performances

Summary: Set at the beginning of Season 2 after Buffy gets back from summer vacation in LA after having been killed by the Master. A what-if scenario where in episode 2x01 When She Was Bad, Buffy dances with Spike instead of Xander to make Angel jealous.

Alternate version of my fic "Hey Jealousy" written from Spike's POV instead of Buffy's.

Read below or on ao3.

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Well this was the joint. The Bronze. What kind of tosser named this dive anyway? Supposedly this was the slayer's regular haunt, according to the Annoying one and his lackeys. Spike wasn't sure how much longer he could play nice with the locals. Then again, maybe he wouldn't have to. He may just have gotten all the useful information from them that he was going to get. Which didn't amount to bloody much. Oh so she liked this... what even was this place? Bar? Dance club? Bar dance club? Much more of this music and he'd really be needing a drink... didn't have to be booze. The only other things he had learned from his new colleagues was that her watcher was the school librarian and she tended to move around with a group of nerds. The irritating lack of information was the cause of this little bit of reconnaissance. Gotta get to know a slayer a bit first before you kill her.

Spike moved away towards the edge of the dance floor, sliding seamlessly between the dancing patrons. She wasn't here. Not yet. But someone else was. Spike did his best to put bodies between him and his old pal, keeping carefully in the shadows. No need to go ruffling Angelus' soulful feathers. At least, not before he found the slayer. Spike had heard that he was going by Angel now, feeding off vermin and such. Pathetic really. How the mighty have fallen. And what was up with the hair?

On the bright side, if the slayer didn't show up, he could certainly make a night out of messing with Angel. The ponce was just standing there, staring intently at the door of the establishment. The few people who had attempted to speak to him had been curtly dismissed. Angel's seeming fascination with the door had allowed Spike to more or less have a run of the place. He could probably slaughter everyone on the balcony without Angel even raising an eye. What'd he think was gonna waltz through that door? Redemption? An evil demon? A blood bank? Elephants on parade?

Spike plucked a full cup out of some co-ed's hand as they walked past.

"Hey man!" the guy with the Hawaiian shirt protested. Good thing for the shirt too, it was the only thing the dullard had going for him it seemed. "What gives?"

Spike took a drink out of the cup and made a face. "Mate, that's the worst piss I've put in my mouth since the prohibition." Spike tossed the cup aside, spilling liquid on a few of the dancers and earning him a few glares.

The man muttered under his breath but scampered off when Spike shot him a toothy grin. He didn't know why the humans got so worked up over his real face. It was just for an instant. Sure was funny to watch though. As Spike suspected, Angel remained completely oblivious to his little scene. All the better.

Finally, Angel straightened, tensing up as he did so. Spike eyed the door. Whatever Angel had been waiting for, this was it. And then the devil walked in.

Although walked certainly didn't seem to cover it. More like strutted. She removed her long black coat that extended just as far as her little black dress. The back was low cut, exposing what was meant to be a scintillating amount of skin. She looked good, and she knew it. So this was the slayer. Buffy. She matched the photos. He was a bit surprised. This was clearly a girl out looking for trouble. And you know what they say: go looking for trouble and you're sure to find it. Not exactly what he had been expecting, but it would make things more interesting. Slayer on a bender. He loved a good bender.

The surprises didn't stop as Angel approached the vampire slayer. So the git had a death wish then? Probably couldn't take one more day of rat. However, instead of staking him, they just... talked. Well, that was anticlimactic.

Spike couldn't hear what they were saying, but he examined them carefully from afar. She seemed flippant, even laughing. He seemed dour. Then - what was that? Was that hurt? Did she hurt Angelus' feelings? Realization dawned on him as he broke out in a grin. This was just too good. Spike could spot a heartbreak from a mile away. The vampire was in love with the slayer. Poor Angelus. Couldn't be a man, couldn't be a monster. Forget Fortuna, Spike's new favorite deity was irony. If only he could get a picture of that crestfallen face, really preserve the moment.

The slayer brushed passed Angel - giving him the cold shoulder so to speak - and headed out onto the dance floor. Spike was somewhat amused to notice that she was quite literally turning heads. Confidence has that effect. All about confidence. Put on a good show. His amusement turned to concern as he realized she was moving directly toward him. Had he been made? 'Suppose it was too late to slink off. Bugger it. He could give her a damn good show. Plenty of people around to threaten and all. Then again, he wasn't sure exactly where she was stashing the stake...

She stopped in front of him, apparently reaching her intended target. She was at ease, seemingly not bent on killing him. At least, not right then.

"And just what can I do for you?" Spike asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

Buffy tilted her head slightly as a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. It suddenly struck him that she wasn't intending on staking him at all. Apologies Fortuna, I'll never slander you again.

Buffy cocked her head towards the crowd of people moving along to the music. "Well this is a dance floor. Dance with me."

His eyes widened slightly and he glanced over at Angel, the movement almost imperceptible. Angel seemed to be struck in some sort of shock. Guess the cover was blown.

Spike let out a low chuckle. "Who am I to refuse a lady?"

Buffy took his hand and pulled him out into the center of the dance floor. Now this was a laughable turn of events. Spike shot a smirk over at Angel. He was paler than usual and his forehead was creased with concern... and fear. No good mate, all that worry will give you wrinkles. Angel's eyes never left them. Spike also noticed that Buffy was casting furtive glances over Angel's way. Lover's tryst then. Even better.

Spinning around to face him, Buffy slowly raised her hands above her head and began swaying her hips to the music. It was a slow, sultry song, which was perfect for taunting one's jilted former. Spike placed his hands on her waist and pulled her closer as he moved along with her. He could almost start to like this music. It was different than the type of dancing he normally did with slayers. Probably not something he should make a habit of, although she was making a tempting case for it.

He leaned in closer to her ear and said, "Name's Spike."

"I don't remember asking," Buffy replied, moving her arms down over his head.

Ouch love. Fine then. Names get left at the door.

Spike grinned back and pulled her flush against him. "Oh you're a fiery one. I like it. Got to appreciate a girl with flair."

Buffy locked eyes with him, holding his gaze for a moment. Curious. She had green eyes. He was going to enjoy watching the light leave them. A light blush rose in her cheeks as she broke eye contact. She hastily turned around with her back facing Spike, wrapping his arms back around her waist as she did so. He let his hands wander slightly as he looked over at Angel, who stood rigid as a board. Spike mimed biting into Buffy's neck - letting his face transform into that of a demon for an instant - then raised a finger to his lips. Now now Angel, let's not do anything rash.

He leaned back down next to her ear and asked, "Is that your beau over there?"

"What?" Buffy asked, startled out of an almost trace-like state.

Her eyes drifted immediately over to Angel, who seemed to be sweating in the metaphorical sense of the word. Of course, Spike assumed that was exactly what she wanted. A reaction. Well, she was certainly getting one.

"The git you've been eyeing," Spike replied, smirking against her ear. "What'd he do to merit this little show?"

Instead of answering, she reached up and put her hand behind his head, moving slowly down and then back up again. He momentarily forgot about Angel as his hands traced lightly along the curves of her body, barely concealed under the thin layer of fabric. She certainly knew how to give a performance. And he wasn't exactly rushing to give up the charade.

As she moved his head back down to her neck, she finally answered, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Spike turned her around and placed his arms on her shoulders, locking his hands behind her. "Bloody right I would. But, I'll settle for evening the score. Want to give him a real show?"

An idea had hit him. Something that was sure to get under Angelus' thick skin and even their scorecard.

He took her chin between his thumb and index finger and lifted her head up slightly. This time when they locked eyes, Buffy didn't look away. Taking that as an invitation, Spike leaned down and kissed her. The kiss started out slow but quickly deepened as he leaned her backwards slightly, holding her firmly by the small of her back. She tasted familiar. Spike placed it easily - she tasted like fear. Although he doubted he was what she was afraid of at the moment. He traced his hand up her spine and smiled into the kiss as he felt her shudder. He hoped Angel was watching. Wouldn't want him to miss a moment of this. It was only fair really. Payback's a bitch.

Buffy pulled away, her skin slightly flushed, as the song came to an end. "Guess that's curtains."

"A gentleman would walk a lady home," Spike replied, still holding onto her waist.

It'd be such a shame to end the night so early. And without spilling even a drop of blood.

"Are you a gentleman?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied, mimicking her earlier line.

He raised an eyebrow at her and offered her his arm. She hesitated for a moment before accepting it. It really was too good to be true. And pissing off Angelus was just icing on the already frosted cake. Alright slayer, how about you, me, a little deserted alley with no witnesses?

Spike winked at Angel as they walked to the door. All the fear on Angel's face had been replaced by pure unadulterated rage. Been a while since Spike had seen that expression. When was the last time? Boxer rebellion maybe? Buffy glanced back at Angel and Spike registered her surprise. Guess he hadn't ever been that pissed at her before. Cute.

Buffy and Spike had only gotten maybe 10 yards outside the Bronze when he heard the metal door slam open. Spike sighed. Of course, Angel would have to ruin all the fun.

Angel came rushing out of the Bronze and yelled after them. "Buffy!"

Spike took his arm back from Buffy and gave her a charming smile. "Well, I think that's my cue."

With that, he walked off - not bothering to hurry - with his hands in his pockets, leaving a bewildered Buffy behind him. Angel had broken out into a sprint and was barreling toward her, her gallant savior and what all. No matter. There was always next time. And he had a feeling this time would be stuck in both their memories for a good long while. He knew he wouldn't be forgetting it anytime soon.

"Angel?" Buffy asked. "What the hell?"

Spike raised an arm up and waved without looking back. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, Slayer!" He paused a moment to let his words hit. "Oh, and Angel?" Spike said, turning around and continuing to walk away backwards. "Your girl? Delicious."

He gave one last satisfied grin before disappearing around the corner. See you soon love.

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction #spuffy fanfiction #spuffy fanfic #spuffy #spike x buffy #hey jealousy #payback and performances #btvs one shot

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bellamioneotp · 4 years

Text

Bellamione Fic Master List

Making a list of Bellamione fics to guide the poor innocent souls into temptation organize stories based on AU type.

DARK AU’s

Bellatrix isn’t a bright ball of sunshine, but rather than have a story where she becomes a better person, Hermione becomes like her, or even joins her side. This AU type isn’t limited to only that, but also to general dark themes in the story such as violence, war and ‘wtf this is so wrong but yet I can’t stop reading’.

Reign Down Like wow. A whole world built around what if Voldemort survived and used Hermione in his evil schemes and had Bellatrix engaged to her. Very detailed and the author doesn’t hold back on aspects of the new world that can be somewhat unsettling. 25/10 this will leave you wondering just how sexy dark magic can truly feel.

The Dark Corners of the Earth This one is dark in an entirely different sense. Bellatrix and Snape are pitted in an ancient war against one another and Hermione is caught in the middle. The romance moves a bit too fast paced for me but the lore and detail in this will have you really thinking this story over the next few days, trying to figure out just wtf is going on. 45/10 will have you hoping your nightlight can keep Cthulhu away.

Haunted This story won’t leave you haunted, but it is pretty good even with it’s short chapters and all. It tells the story of Hermione sort of losing her marbles but I won’t get into too much detail. Just read it for yourself; it’s a quick easy read. 10/10 is poetic as fuck.

I Dream of Sin Takes place in a sort of canon world in which Hermione is an American teen being bullied. You can imagine how well that goes for the bullies especially when she learns she has magic and is taught by Bellatrix herself on how to use it. It gets progressively darker each chapter. 16/10 don’t want to mess with magical nerds ever.

For whom the Bell Tolls is an interesting look into how Hermione’s actually a death eater and Bellatrix is not. While Hermione is not bat shit insane, she is a murderer and Bellatrix is the sane one. Nice to see things switched up. This story is not necessarily as dark as the others but it gets brownie points for making the usually good Hermione evil right off the bat. 9/10 come to the dark side, we have cookies.

Staring at Nothing is just...wow. A very powerful one shot about Hermione’s descent into darkness as told by Harry’s perspective. 10/10 for who needs friends anyways, when you’ve got black leather.

Visions of You in which Hermione is a depressed youth after the war and has to deal with hallucinations of Bellatrix. Hermione isn’t dark here so much as she is gray type, and the story has a permeating tinge of sadness to it, given the circumstances. 8/10 for maybe Bellatrix isn’t a hallucination?

Deep Below what’s more awful than being accused of Harry’s death? Being falsely accused of it, and having to deal with trying to prove your innocent. This is a situation Hermione ends up in. But will she get out of it? 8/10 for this gets deep.

How to Love Bellatrix captures Hermione and sort of indoctrinates her into the world of darkness. Hermione is mad at first, but then she realizes how sexy Bellatrix is and is like, ‘alright fam, sign me up’ and boom Bellamione. 8/10 you love this story but not it’s update schedule.

TIME TRAVELER AU’s

Basically, what it says on the tin. Someway or another, Hermione goes back into time to stop Bellatrix from ever becoming evil. Drama and romance ensue.

Future Shocks A good time turner fic with a more modern take on war. It’s pretty long and it is the slowburn of all slowburns. But it’s a very interesting story and the ending will have you definitely shook. 8/10 will shock you awake from that boring lecture you’re reading fanfic in.

Time Heals all Wounds Hermione gets sent back in time to ‘redeem’ Bellatrix but not in the gift card way, more like saving the future type way. They end up, you guessed it, falling in love and changing the future somewhat. 6/10 is a young teen romance that will have you reliving your adventures as a young sapphic witch.

Mirror, Mirror Not exactly a time turner fic, more like a parallel world, I suppose. Hard to explain but has good amounts of mystery and trying to understand what is happening. Focuses more on Bellatrix’s POV which is a nice change of pace. 8/10 will have you looking in the mirror and summoning Bellatrix like she was Bloody Mary.

Let the Light Come and Take me A time turner fic that ends up with Bellatrix time traveling but to the future and the chaos her arrival there causes for those who are acquainted with her devious ways. Looks at the growth of our two ladies relationship into something more. 5/10 if it’s not slowburn romance is it really Bellamione?

The One Within the Other this story is about, you guessed it, time travel! Hermione goes back on purpose to stop Bellatrix from achieving her evil potential and in the process love blossoms. 7/10 for never enough time to read Bellamione in peace!

Caught in the Time series this is a series of three full length stories about Bellamione stuck in different times and universes. So much happens in them it’s kind of hard to summarize so the best thing to do is read them. 8, 8.5, 7/10 I’ll let you figure out which score goes for which series.

Just say When started off as a time turner story but then it ended up becoming something more of an espionage tale. It’s a good read and interesting to see how Bellatrix aims to save Hermione from a dementor’s kiss (spoilers!) in order to save their future together. A good mix of romance and action. 8/10 The name’s Black. Bellatrix, Black.

The Broken Wand It all starts with a wand and then before you know it, boom, time travel happens. Featuring Loki and adventure all around, this fic has interesting plot points to keep you engaged despite the slower update times. 7/10, will break your wand too.

Hourglass basically, a young Bellatrix is brought into the future and consequences abound from that mishap. The plot is a bit wonky and there are some logic mistakes, but if you can get over it, it’s a decent time travel story. 5/10 for it must be canon that Bellatrix has a lovely hourglass figure.

Times they are a Changing where Bellatrix travels back in time to save her wife, Hermione. Nice to see a story where Hermione isn’t the one doing all the saving. Unfortunately there’s only six chapters to this story and it’s unlikely it’ll ever get finished but it’s a nice fresh concept. 6/10 for that’s how many chapters there are.

Destined in this one, Hermione experiences some wonky times after the battle at the department of mysteries. Hermione has to find a way back home, but perhaps she might find love along the way? 10/10 for this is destined to be an interesting read.

HEALER AU’s

Let’s be real, Bellatrix has got a lot of problems and these authors try to solve them, with sex. And you know, medical help. But sex definitely helps a lot.

Portrait of a Tragic Woman Not a typical healer type au, because Hermione is a therapist whose helping Bellatrix with her mental disorders. Focuses a lot on the relationship between the two and really makes you try to figure out what exactly is up with Bellatrix and what is her past, etc. The ending chapters will leave you shooketh and wondering what even is real anymore. 50/10 because it feels like an acid trip, man.

The Healer is only one chapter but still worth a read. Hopefully the author will have some time to get back to it because it has a huge potential. 6/10 because I need some healing.

1k is a one shot, featuring Hermione as a therapist and Bellatrix as her patient. Can’t say too much without spoiling it, but despite it’s short length, the author paints a vivid look into Bellatrix’s mind if she was just an insane muggle. 1k/10 because that’s one patient I would never like to meet.

Darkness Underneath I mean, Hermione runs a team of healers, so technically it’s kinda a healer au fic, right? This story looks more in depth at the Death Eaters and dark magic surrounding them. 9/10 is that a dark mark or are you just happy to see me?

TEACHER AU

We all know this is the holy grail au of this fandom and yet there’s only a couple of long stories for this. Someone, write some more!

Fractures A long fic, that has a sequel. Basically, Bellatrix is Hermione’s teacher during a very trying time for Hermione when a competition goes very wrong and dark truths are revealed. Lot’s of action, Bellamione interactions, and overall interesting plot. 8/10 will leave your heart in fractures when you find out the sequel is unfinished.

In the Dead of Night Hermione asks Bellatrix if she can teach her some.....magic and things end up becoming very magical indeed. Bellatrix is the teacher in this story (because who wouldn’t want her as a teacher). It’s a WIP with only a couple of chapters out. 7/10 time to learn some real lessons, Granger ;)

Just a Brand features not only Bellatrix as a professor, but a magical soul mate bond between Bellatrix and Hermione that leads to much deliciousness. There’s a lot of chapters to this story but they’re pretty short. An updated and revised version can be found on a03 for those who like longer chapters. 7/10 Bellamione is branded on my soul.

It Just Felt Right is another fic with Bellatrix as the professor. Hermione starts off hating her and then it evolves into liking Bellatrix. The fic leaves off before any real progress can be made so if anyone is up for reading an unfinished fic from 2012 then go for it. 6/10 for this story feels right but not write because it’s abandoned :(

CRIME AU

Because there is never enough crime involved even with Bellatrix, these authors amp up the trouble and make it double. And gay. So very gay.

Two Sides of the Same Coin where Bellatrix is basically an auror. It’s only five chapters and it hasn’t been updated in a long time but it’s an interesting concept worth checking out. 9/10 wish there were more sides to the coin.

Murder Most Horrid A crime story, where Bellatrix is a magical cop and Hermione is a murder suspect. Bellatrix interrogates Hermione by banging her and then the two of them proceed to basically get married the day after. A bit ooc for Bellatrix but very in character if you consider this world not from the canon. -89/10 for how badly your vision will deteriorate if you try to read this all in one night.

The Mysterious Department Technically Bellatrix and Hermione are both magical detectives and they go and solve crimes and shit while also possibly trying to prevent the world from ending. You know, just casual stuff. 10/10 for the perfect crime, would commit again.

Darkness is Falling A story that has Hermione as an auror who replaces Bellatrix’s old partner. They butt heads, they solve cases, and naturally, begin to fall in love. 7/10 for this case is closed.

Some Things Aren’t Seen Hermione investigates Bellatrix’s crimes and past and ends up over her head. There are two follow ups to this finished work, all in the same vein. It’s all a good bit of fun watching Hermione try to take on the criminal Lestrange. 7/10, no, this has no relation to the musical Wicked.

SOUL MATE BOND

In one way or another Bellatrix and Hermione have a special bond in between them that destines them to be together. Angst, love, friendship, all abound in this au type. Features a combination of other factors thrown in, but the stories put in here are largely advertised in the blurb as more focused on the bond.

Lotus Flower Hermione finds out after Bellatrix’s death that they are bound together and that because Bellatrix is dead, Hermione is dying as a result too. This begs the question, will Hermione go back in time and save Bellatrix, or will she willingly submit to the bond’s curse? 8/10 I think we all know what Hermione chooses.

Our Mercurial Selves ever wonder what it would be like to have a murderer share your mind? In this one, Hermione and Bellatrix can communicate telepathically with each other, creating a bond that draws them together. Features evil schemes by Voldemort, a flying horse, and Narcissa beating the ever loving shit out of Bellatrix for even daring to breathe in Hermione’s direction. 9/10 will leave you with warm fuzzies for the Malfoy family before the ending crushes you.

The House Ring Bellatrix sends Hermione a magical ring that engages them and basically makes them wives. Prophecies abound about how Bellamione is meant to be the one and only true pairing. 7/10 for that ring better come with diamonds.

Demons AU

As if Voldemort isn’t scary enough, there are demons and scary things in this au type that will leave you and Voldemort both calling for mommy.

Unsteady Precipice technically also a time traveling fic, except Hermione ends up in an alternative universe. where she tries to change things from happening in the canon world like they did. But will it work? Who knows! Only a few chapters are out so it’s hard to tell where this story will go, but one things for sure, it’ll be good. 9/10 if you don’t pray after reading this the demons will get you.

A Demon in the Mist is also about, gasp, demons! Dangerous things are afoot in this story and Hermione is caught in the middle of it all. It takes part in the same universe as the caught in time series by the same author, but with slight alterations. Unsure if the story will be finished as the author has contemplated leaving fanfic writing. 7/10 can you find the demon in the mist?

MAGICAL CREATURES AU

Technically a category, right? Let’s pretend it is, because there are some stories out there that pit our two ladies as other than human and it’s fun to read about it.

As we Chase the Sun Very Black family centric and features Bellatrix as a big fluffy wolf. What’s not to love? Cuddles, and hair balls, and good times all around. 9/10 would tame that wolf.

Sing to me Your Insanity in which Hermione and Bellatrix are both sirens and will basically die if they don’t do the ol’ frickity frack. This is a long story and the slowburn feels like hellburn but it’s worth the read. 56/10 but you will need earplugs so those sirens don’t seduce you too.

Metamorphosis in which Bellatrix is also a wolf and doesn’t like being stuck with Hermione but gets used to it and basically they’re house wives of London and don’t know it. 8/10 for your mind with undergo metamorphosis from slightly obsessed with Bellamione to even more obsessed.

This Poisoned Blood of Ours vampires, vampires everywhere! Two parts to this series and features a confused Bellatrix and a changing Hermione. 7/10 do you think vampires like steak rare?

Cursed Doll Pretty self explanatory title. Someone ends up as a doll and shenanigans ensue. Won’t say more because it’s only two chapters, but it’s well written and worth a read. 10/10 Chucky? Is that your sister?

Liquid Measure these chapters are thicc boy. Only two chapters but such a good set up and everything. I hope the author is able to update at some point. 10/10 makes me thirsty for more!

My Demons in the Dark Hermione is a ghost. That’s it, that’s the plot. Boo/10 for this not so spooky spirit.

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter Books #Bellamione #Hermione Granger #Bellatrix Lestrange #emma Watson #Helena Bonham Carter #Bellamione fic recs #Fic recs #all gay stories #vampires #wolves #witches #time turner fics

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wordsablaze · 3 years

Text

9. it’s always lose-lose

your beauty hides the pain Lost on the mountain, Jaskier accidentally angers a mage who decides to curse Yennefer with his company and for once, it might actually be a blessing in disguise…

A/N: sorry it took a month to update but it be like that sometimes- @random-nerd-3 @surreal-static @10moonymhrivertam @bicount-de-lettenhove @i-need-blog-ideas

previous chapter

The innkeeper is much friendlier after Jaskier’s second performance.

Of course, that’s probably on account of him managing to get through actual requests this time because Yennefer is in the room and his skin isn’t on fire, but still.

Unfortunately, that means he ends up singing toss a coin twice, after which his mood sours enough for his scowl to match Yennefer’s when he flops into the seat opposite her and leans against the wall so he can rest his feet.

“I was under the impression you enjoyed these ridiculous performances,” Yennefer says and although Jaskier’s eyes are closed, he can practically see her raising a perfect eyebrow.

He shrugs. “Rather difficult with the whole Geralt thing.”

Yennefer hums her agreement, neither of them saying anything more in favour of appreciating the food that’s quickly brought to their table. It’s decent but pales in comparison to their makeshift meal earlier and Jaskier hopes he’s not imagining the way they share a look over the table that suggests they both feel the same.

“Well, where do we go now?” Jaskier asks once they’re done.

Yennefer sighs. “We’ll just have to hope Triss isn’t busy.”

Jaskier frowns. “Triss? Do I know her?”

“Can’t imagine you would,” Yennefer replies, clearly not intending to provide him with an explanation of any kind.

“Don’t discredit me, darling, I know plenty of people all over the continent!” Jaskier argues.

Yennefer just rolls her eyes. “And unfortunately, I’m one of them.”

Before he can stop it, Jaskier flinches. It’s not even nearly the worst thing they’ve said to one another but he’s becoming increasingly more aware that he was probably only stuck with Yennefer as some sort of revenge on her, making him no less than the curse Geralt had implied he was.

“We should get going,” Yennefer announces, standing and brushing crumbs that probably aren’t there from her dress.

Jaskier nods, grateful for any excuse not to question his worth, especially since he’s way too sober for such thoughts yet. “Where are we going?” he asks.

“Temeria,” Yennefer tells him, “I’ve been before so I can portal us there.”

With a groan, Jaskier follows her out of the inn. “You couldn’t have warned me of how you planned to travel before we ate?”

Yennefer looks a little guilty but neither of them can prevent Jaskier’s stomach from attempting to twist itself inside out as they step through Yennefer’s portal. As it is, the first thing Jaskier does after setting foot in Temeria is fall to his knees, gagging but mercifully keeping his meal inside his body.

“Thanks,” he mutters once his knees feel solid once again and he can pull himself upright.

“Pleasure,” Yennefer replies absently, though she seems far more concerned with looking around to check where they are, visibly relaxing when she spots their destination and starts to walk.

Jaskier curses under his breath but follows, his fingers gripping the strap of his lute hard enough to ache. Yennefer doesn’t bother knocking on the door to what smells like an apothecary shop when they reach it. Unfortunately, she forgets that mages usually have wards against strangers on the places they dwell in, meaning that although she can get through easily enough, Jaskier crashes into an invisible barrier and ends up thrown backwards, sprawled on the ground.

“Yennefer!” someone exclaims.

Jaskier’s too busy groaning to notice who, though. He forgets how to think until he’s being manoeuvred inside and pressed to Yennefer’s side, both of them exhaling slowly as they recover.

“Sorry,” Yennefer mumbles with far less reluctance than before.

“Hardly felt a thing,” Jaskier breathes, letting himself flop backwards so he’s lying entirely on the floor, at which point he notices the other woman frowning down at the two of them and waves a hand, grinning. “Hello! You have such gorgeous hair, would you allow me to write it into song?”

The other woman - Triss, judging by how relaxed Yennefer is - laughs softly. “Was that your attempt at flirting?”

Yennefer snorts as she rises to her feet. “You got the best of it, he’s usually far worse.”

Jaskier shrugs. “There are plenty of people who would disagree with you there.”

“What are you doing here, Yennefer?” Triss asks, seemingly unfazed by Jaskier keeping his spot on the floor.

Yennefer sighs. “The bard got us stuck with each other and the mage who did it knows how to cover her tracks so I was hoping you’d help me break whatever the curse is.”

It’s possibly the most straightforward thing Yennefer has said in all the time that Jaskier has known her and he can’t help his mouth falling open; It seems he’d somehow even more severely underestimated how much she hates their predicament.

Triss seems equally as shocked because she glances between the two of them thrice before nodding slowly. “I’ll see what I can do to help. I assume you’ve already tried?”

“Within seconds,” Yennefer confirms.

Finally sitting up, Jaskier rubs the back of his head. “So am I to merely loiter in the background until you magically figure things out or…?”

“I suppose you could write that song,” Triss says, barely holding in her laugh.

Jaskier narrows his eyes at her, but there’s no real animosity in it. “I certainly will, thank you very much.”

Yennefer rolls her eyes at him, which he’s beginning to think is just her instinctive response to him opening his mouth at this point. “Just don’t think so loud this time. “

“Stay out of my head, then!” Jaskier retorts, then stands up so he feels less like he’s about to be stepped on or something. It’s not exactly as though he’s unfamiliar with being around powerful people but two mages who seem incapable of taking him seriously is a little much for the moment.

“I have a room the two of you can stay in while you’re here,” Triss interjects, clearly amused, and although Yennefer looks as if she wants to reject the offer, she nods.

Jaskier beams at her. “Your kindness is just as plentiful as your beauty, it seems!”

He doesn’t miss the way Yennefer and Triss share an undecipherable look but he pointedly ignores it, keeping his attention on his lute as he tries to think of suitable rhymes for curls and mage and forest so he can prove his point. He just hopes he can sing it as a song of gratitude and celebration rather than one of bittersweet appreciation.

this chapter was chaos to write,,, i filled it with yen’s thoughts and then realised the fic was jaskier’s pov so had to rewrite the whole thing, and also wrote in trissefer out of habit before remembering the plot is legit just yennskier *sighs*

thanks for reading! | masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

#yennskier #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #yennefer x jaskier #enemies to lovers #the witcher #fanfic #getting together #hurt jaskier #triss merigold #we're going to pretend i'm not crossposting late ;)#my writing #ybhtp

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fromashescomephoenixes · 3 years

Text

Beauty and the Beast?

author’s note: Howdy all! This piece is a very late contribution to Reese’s disney writing challenge! This was in celebration of their achievement of 800 followers, due to their amazing fics. (find the other submissions here) I am so overjoyed I could have a part in this, and I wanted to say a very special congratulations to them! ( @probably-peeves) In the month it took me to write this, they’re only a couple followers off of 1000! So, go check them out and drop a follow! Without further ado, I present my first ever Remus fic!

word count: ~2000

summary: you’ve spent years admiring Remus from a far, but who could ever learn to love a beast? this fic is loosely based around beauty and the beast

warnings: lil bit angsty and a hint of language. also it switches pov’s every so often so I’ve put in the beginning of each section who’s pov it is :)

•••

(your pov)

“He’s so perfect,” I sighed thinking to myself. I would have told a friend, but- well, they all thought I was a bit odd.

I was currently seated in the great hall, glancing up from my thick book. I had just been traveling to the optimistic world of Anne Shirley, when I had been distracted out of the corner of my eye by Remus pouring himself a steaming mug of tea. I took a sip of my own mug and continued to discreetly peer over its rim towards Remus.

He was sat, as usual, beside Peter Pettigrew. Today he looked a little more tired than usual, but I figured that must have been exam season getting to him.

I returned to my book as I realised that the amount of staring I was doing was reaching a nearly creepy amount.

I was never going to tell Remus I liked him. He was perfect. And me?

I was just a beast.

•••

(Narrator pov)

“She’s so perfect,” Remus sighed for the fourth time so far that breakfast.

“Bloody hell mate, do you need me to ask her out for you?” Sirius smirked as he took a particularly suggestive bite of toast. Remus wrinkled his freckled nose.

“You know exactly why I can’t Sirius,” Remus said quietly. “Look at her!” He gazed steadily towards you, at your end of Ravenclaw’s table.

“She’s perfect, and beautiful, and smart, and-“ Remus looked so miserable in that moment that Sirius, James, and Peter were about three seconds from tackling him in a large group hug. His despair faded to resigned dismay, and he finished.

“I’m just a beast,” he shrugged sadly.

•••

(your pov)

The library cooled my heated forehead just enough to hear my own thoughts for a minute. This full moon was going to be a long one. I hated the way standing outside at this time of night made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. Or the way I could smell the scent of Remus’s cologne (which I normally loved) from here- even though he was still in the great hall.

I performed another subtle cooling charm and returned to the detailed essay on the precise wand movements required for jelly leg jinxes.

“Can I take a seat?” A familiar yet unknown voice asked, motioning to a chair. I looked up to see the soft honey gold eyes of Remus gazing into mine. “Your corner of the library is so cool,” he smiled in a tired manner. It was then that I noticed the flushed tone of his cheeks.

“Of course,” I answered softly, incredibly shy around anyone- especially Remus. I swallowed my heart that was trying to escape it’s rightful place, and tried to start conversation. “Long day?” I asked gently. Remus rubbed his temples before responding:

“I guess you could say that,” the small, tired smile was back again. I pulled a small mint leaf out of my tiny container.

“I find mint always calms me down,” I popped a leaf into my own mouth, and handed him one.

I turned back to my work and managed to write another line before I was distracted by a slight rustling noise. Another affect of the full moon... heightened senses. I glanced up to see Remus digging through his satchel bag for something. Triumphant, he pulled out a bar of Honeydukes chocolate.

•••

(Narrator pov)

“Oi, Prongs,” James glanced up as Sirius’s hard elbow hit his side. “He finally got the courage to sit with her!” Sirius had a gleeful grin on his face. James’s face lit up as well and he quickly got Peter’s attention. Peter let out a soft round of applause and gave a watery smile.

"Well, I ought to go help-" Sirius stood up to go talk to Remus, but James promptly yanked him back by his coller.

"You tosser! You'd make it worse!" James chuckled slightly, and they all resumed their studious work.

•••

(Remus’s pov)

I held up the bar and raised an eyebrow slightly. “Would you like any?” I held the chocolate towards her. As much as I hated sharing my chocolate, it was only kind. Especially after I saw her eyes meet mine again. Anything was worth seeing those eyes again.

She nodded shyly, and I broke off a chunk of the bar and placed it into her palm. She gratefully accepted it, and resumed her rapid writing. Godric, how does anyone write that fast?

About a half hour later, I stood up to take a break. Stretching my back out, I noticed y/n gazing at me. I couldn't tell if she was judging me, or just curious. Her eyes were so focused and clear. The golden yellow eye color suited her so perfectly. She truly was beautiful.

•••

(your pov)

Remus and I had met several more times in the library since then. In the past few weeks his face had brightened up a lot from the tired look I had seen the first time he sat with me.

"Hey Remus!" I nodded as he approached our now usual spot. It was odd how he always happened to be in the library when I was. I suppose we must have similar study habits. My heart began to beat rapidly as it always did when I was nervous. Helga, at this point I should be used to talking with people.

"Good afternoon y/n," He grinned brightly and set his books down. "Any good assignments today?" I bit my lip. Would he really want to hear my raptures on the benefits I had recently discovered of sage? I decided to give it a shot and told him my recent potion experiments.

He held on to every word as I explained. I blushed, realising that for once someone actually wanted to listen to my words instead of calling me a nerd or strange.

"Thanks for letting me talk about that," I let out a small, nervous giggle.

"It's fascinating!" He responded, his eyebrows shot up. He proceeded to ask me multiple questions, and show a bit of his own knowledge by linking it to a specific charm he had read about.

After chatting for a while longer, I focused on my work again. At this point I was simply adding finishing touches to my foot long parchment. Roughly an hour later I noticed Remus's steady gaze trained on me.

"What?" I smiled softly.

"Er-" Remus paused, blushing slightly. "Well, you're-" I smiled a little wider at his stumbling around. Although I couldn't think for the life of me why he couldn't find his words. I noticed his chest rise, as he took a deep breath.

"Would you like to go to a ball with me?" He asked finally. I blushed, and grinned myself this time.

"They're holding a ball?" I hadn't heard any announcement about a ball, but I tended to zone out during meal times anyway.

"Well, you see-" Remus took another deep breath. "It would only be us."

•••

(Remus’s pov)

And that's how, like the fucking idiot I am, I ended up standing outside the room of requirement in a slightly shabby suit. Sirius had kindly advised me that I looked like a slimy salesman, and James had helped me comb my hair before sending me out the portrait hole with a pat on the back.

"You're going to crush it mate, she'll love you." James called. Sirius leaned out after him, and shouted:

"You look hot!" I felt the very tips of my ears turn red, and jogged up to the room of requirement. I glanced behind me as I fleed Sirius's compliments, just to make sure he wasn't following me.

I finally arrieved, slightly out of breath, next to the tapestry. She came around the corner slightly afterwards, and all I could do was smile. She truly was beautiful.

•••

(Your pov)

"Sorry I'm late," I blushed. Remus looked incredibly handsome, and I I felt like all of my ability to converse had somehow disappeared. Remus kindly took my hand, and smiled. Then, just like that, my power of speech was returned.

"I had to jog here, don't worry." I laughed slightly at his admission. He held out his arm for me to take.

"Shall we?" I accepted his arm and we turned to the golden door together. It spread open right on cue, and we passed through the glowing arch. The warm yellow light reminded me of the sun, a pleasant difference to the harsh light of the moon.

The room had transformed especially for us, into a circular ballroom with high, arching walls. Gold accents and soft, creamy colored walls lit up the space, and the ceiling had tiny slivers of moonlight poking through. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle slightly, and I grasped onto Remus's arm slightly tighter to steady myself. I noticed him pause and stiffen as well, surely because of the way I had just dug my nails into his arm.

The room worked it's magic and closed the gaps in the roof, replacing them with flowery vines. I relaxed, and concentrated on thinking of a nice song to dance to.

The first few notes of a soft piano caught my ear, and I quickly realised the room was playing 'Tale as Old as Time' from Beauty and the Beast. How fitting, I thought. My beautiful Remus is here with me... a beast.

Remus placed one hand upon the small of my back, and took my other palm in his. I rested my free hand on his shoulder and let the music wash over me for a moment.

In sync, we began to glide across the floor to the soft music. I was immediately lost in the flowing and spinning, and the only thing I truly registered was the honey brown of Remus's eyes, steadily trained on my yellow toned- golden eyes. I realised as I stared that his eyes became slightly more yellow as we continued to gaze at each other. I felt my neck hair prickle again, and my cheeks flush as I felt a hint of my moon sickness. It was as if my werewolf tendencies were being amplified by Remus somehow.

My cheeks continued to flush, and we continued to dance in sync. I felt as if I was floating upon a cloud, gliding along in someone else's dream land. I was so close to Remus I could count his constellation of freckles, see the golden flecks in his, see the pinky color of his lips.

"Thank you, Remus," I whispered. I felt frozen in this moment, but I didn't mind at all.

I leaned in slightly and Remus's soft lips caught on to mine. I deepened the kiss before pulling away, the horrible truth causing my brow to furrow.

"Remus, I have to tell you something," I placed my hands on his chest as he held my waist, keeping me close against him.

"What is it my dove?" Remus frowned, and brushed a stray hair from my face.

"You can't love me!" It all became to much, I pulled away and tried to explain it all before the hot tears came streaming down my face. I felt the salty streams dash down my face, and I realised it was too late.

"I'm a werewolf," I sobbed, returning to Remus's arms despite my better judgement.

To my surprise, Remus's warm, husky laughter began to echo off of the arched wall. I weakly hit into his chest, annoyed that he was laughing. He wasn't muggle born, and his father had written a large amount of the anti-werewolf legislation that made my life living hell.

"Me too y/n," He answered, curbing his laughter. I looked into his eyes and felt the slightly woofish sides of my returning again. I hugged him even tighter.

"So we're beast and the beast?" I joked.

"Hm?" Remus's deep voice vibrated against where my forehead was tucked into his chest.

"This whole time I thought that we were Beauty and the Beast," I paused and took a deep breath. "Obviously you were Beauty," I mumbled.

"Perhaps we're both the beauty in our own way?" Remus smiled.

p.s. i’ve got another fic coming in the next few days so keep an eye out!

#remus lupin #remus x you #remus x reader #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #harry potter #disney crossover #beauty and the beast #disney x harry potter #reader insert #hp reader insert #hp #HP Fandom #harry potter fandom

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years

Text

Some more mass effect andromeda thinky thoughts as I run around heleus getting some achievements!

- the murderous angaran ai is genuinely so fucking funny. “How are you feeling here on Aya?” “I hope you die” “Is there anything we could do to make you more comfortable?” “BURY THIS PLANET UNDER FIRE AND ASH” “o.oookay. Goodbye then.” “I HATE you.”

- I hope I never become irresistibly moved to write mass effect andromeda fic b/c there really is no other description for a good 70% of the expressions reyes makes than :> and how could one capture that in words

- as mentioned I’ve been doing a bit of achievement hunting and in the process I’ve been switching up a lot of gameplay stuff from how I handled it the first few times around and let me tell you it’s baller as fuuuuuuuuuck -- it just looks so awesome and is so satisfying between the maneuverability of the jetpack and biotic charge and the effects. special shoutout to what happens if you biotic charge a frozen victim enemy and the biotic pull/push combination. (throwing people around like ragdolls is actually so much fun I’ve kept doing it even after I unlocked the achievement lol)

- lol lol when you get meridian online there’s the montage of every planet coming back to life, right? well the one on kadara is from inside kralla’s song, with umi looking out at everything that’s happening. and all I can imagine is her jaded-ass voice going ‘what the fUCK did that asshole kid do now I only just cleaned up after the bar brawl he started with his krogan grandpa and now he’s rearranging the entire fucking planet right from under us goddess I need a drink’

- the implication that reyes ‘cards so close to my chest you won’t even know I’m playing’ vidal just does not shut up about how amazing ryder is to anyone who’ll listen gives me so much life. when you try to be mysterious and laidback but the human pathfinder is so fucking cute tho Y____Y (also go watch his scenes if you’re being standoffish with him the entire time -- he clearly wants ryder to like him so much right from the beginning, he’s doing so much work to no avail and I feel sort of bad for how funny I find it haha. interesting that it really does seem to be an emotional thing as well as y’know the practical/tactical benefits of having the pathfinder on his side. methinks the charlatan might be a bit lonely there behind all his masks lol)

I think this is why I’m willing to give him some benefit of the doubt too, despite all the cloak and dagger stuff -- he’s so immediately drawn to ryder, who you can never make a bad person, really. something in him must respond to that, if potentially only in the ‘attracted to traits I do not possess myself’ way hahaha

- I love sam. so so much. some of the open world implementation is still grating (yes sam. yes I know I can mine this area for resources through my mining interface. we’ve been doing this for a hundred hours sam. you’ve been right here with me the entire time sam. please sam), but he’s SUCH a good and I’d argue underutilized concept (emotionally at least) and the best boy. the fact that he can get SARCASTIC on you fsdhfjsadh he’s growing and learning! he’s doing so from inside your brain which is kind of unsettling but also SO COOL! there’s something about that level of intimacy, of always knowing there will be someone there with you in your head that is super interesting and deserves to be examined more fully -- both how it could be comforting and how it’s r e a l l y not how people or ai are generally designed to work lol.

he also gives us a unique link with our dad and I wonder if the writers would have explored that in more depth if there’d been more development time -- it practically SCREAMS out an invitation to get to play/see things from alec’s POV in short bursts, like the memories you unlock except you could go through playing it as him since sam is common to both of us. (see my ‘our dad comes back through either kett or remnant nonsense in the sequel and we need to find some way to connect with him’ idea. it would be. amazing. listen alec already looked at the ethical guidelines involved in creating ai and went ‘huh interesting ideas but not for me thanks!’, don’t tell me he wouldn’t have left some loophole in so this could happen)

- reyes literally says ‘the cavalry’s here’ when we get to meridian and I for one love him more than words can express (he also asks us if we’re okay in sort of a sweet/worried way right before we get to the control room. aw buddy)

- like we don’t think of them like that because we’re in control of them and see all the stumbles and awkwardness and how young they are all the time, but damn the ryder twins must look like something else to everyone in andromeda haha. they literally stride around like demigods restoring entire planets. on voeld spring non-metaphorically follows in their footsteps. shit dude if we’re talking realpolitik here the angara must feel p r e t t y nervous about this -- there’s no one saying they can’t turn off the vaults as easily as they turned them on. I hope we get them somehow teaching the angara how to do it too, on a smaller scale at least, as a show of good faith or something in a sequel, because that power imbalance is disconcerting

- I’m glad sam and I have such similar priorities whenever we’re on kadara. ‘maybe mr vidal would know. perhaps we should ask mr vidal about this. mr vidal said something relating to this pathfinder maybe we should speak to him’ . yeah sam i know the feeling, same (it does undeniably read as sam having a bit of a crush which is. hilarious?)

- the fact that alec ryder thought ellen responded to his bad boy act in any way when what really charmed her was that he was a great big nerd <3 it’s kind of nice to see a fictional marriage that seems to have just been. nice and stable and chill? just two intellectual equals who like and respect each other very much and not a lot of drama until alec went full alec and started developing rogue ai instead of watching his wife die lol. again I would love for the sequel to involve ellen finally waking up and being like ‘death? trying to claim MY husband? I do not think so, I can die he can’t he’s not leaving me behind’ and helping out and you realize that the reason they were soulmates was that under the relatively rational and unemotional surface they’re both, at heart, batshit crazy mad scientists who are insanely devoted to each other. imagine it tho! the people of andromeda realize alec ryder is back from the dead somehow and doing some Shit out there, they put a ton of resources into curing ellen’s disease because their best shot is something to do with the implants she made, hey presto we’ve got all ryders on the board and in play.

- just want to make it clear that I’m still sad about avitus rix and hope he’s having a good day

- do you think ryder ever asks sam to read something to him ‘aloud’ in his head if he’s anxious and can’t sleep. or just to talk at him about something boring until he nods off. again the possibilities inherent in the concept!!! he has someone who’s closer to him than any other person could be, what’s that like?

- *me sticking to my sidewinder pistol the whole playthrough even though it’s laughably inefficient* I just wanna feel like a cowboy bioware please work with me here

- the male ryder voice actor has such amazing comedic timing, there’s a lot of reaction stuff out in the field he absolutely nails. I enjoy the female voice too and I like how much emotion she manages to convey towards the end of the game especially, but there’s a casual comedy in male ryder’s voice that can’t be beat. (well, it’s not hawke levels, but then nothing ever is, that’s too much to ask)

- I love vorn and kesh so much. nerd krogans unite & make out

- I still want to sit peebee down and have a long serious talk with her about emotional abuse, maybe give her a hug :( fuck kalinda

- this game does not get enough credit for how stunningly beautiful it is, it all got buried under criticism about the animations and it’s a fucking shame. the last few vaults you go through are just mindboggling in scale and visual uh striking-ness. it makes me so sad to think there won’t be any more of it D:

- I really like this mainly casual + logical dialogue options ryder I’ve found; it makes him sound like a younger and more irreverent version of his father, but also softer and less closed off and much more willing to show affection for his family especially.

- i wonder if different people’s individual SAMs will take on a certain tone/unique pattern when they’ve coexisted long enough. have I mentioned. how much I want a sequel to this game

- one last reyes note because don’t look at me okay -- I wonder how much we’re meant to read into ‘being honorable never got me anywhere’. on the one hand I’m fully prepared to believe he’s never even tried doing anything the honorable way in his entire life lol but on the other there’s also some interesting potential in the interplay of that sentence and ‘to be someone’. (there seems to be a deep fear in him both of powerlessness and of being truly seen/recognized -- he equates secrecy with safety pretty explicitly -- which seems... telling? of what I don’t know but telling all the same hahaha) like he might be saying he’s tried doing things the ‘right’ way and it didn’t work and the price was too high, so he just went for this instead with the ends low-key justifying the means. hmmm. :Ia (this is what happens when I get Attached to a character with like an hour of screentime my friends, and I’m already primed to give my entire heart away at the sound of nicholas boulton’s voice)

#mass effect #mass effect andromeda #I'm sorry about this my brain just won't shut up about this suddenly so here we go #reyes vidal #meta

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hillbillied · 3 years

Note

2 4 6 8 10 12 14 16 18 for the ?s NERD !!

35 Questions for Fanfic Writers!

calling me a nerd is homophobic and i will be suing you in the tort of queers, see you down the courthouse, cunt (thank you for all of these, i enjoyed sweating as i forgot every tv trope in the entire world!!)

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

because tom hanks is a coward.

he owes me 40 minutes of additional AndyEddie scenes and i decided to rectify that personally. usual general reason; i write what i want to read and have 0 shame in reading my own fics. additional reason; i got tired of bad or boring portrayals of gay men. i want stories as interesting as everybody else gets but written by and for gay men, so I started doing just that.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

for writing, Mark Dapin took his book Spirit House and hit me square in the face (inspirationally). honestly, while i wouldn’t say reading other people’s fanfics (like yours, gimme another chapter) inspires me, it brings me so much joy that that alone is inspirational. (i’m not gonna tag everyone because frankly, they know because they have receipts of me telling them i love their fic)

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

Answered here but what i should’ve said was none of them, writing sucks!!

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

Edward “Hillbilly” Jones, big gay ball of low self-esteem! if i’m not writing Eddie’s POV, consider it a flex because it’s a step outside the old comfort zone!!

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for?

so I was recently told (by @ktredshoes!!) my writing was “romantic” and that, I think, sums it up better than i ever could. i love writing romance – the idea of two people devotedly in love with each other including all the trials that causes – underpinned by various genres. (i got a biggest, softest boner for sci-fi and historical period dramas on the side)

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

well, I’m fucking stoked to write an AndyEddie modern AU (there’s two of them in the docs; a raunchy romp of fuckbuddies-to-lovers where Eddie works at Dunkin’ Donuts, and a more serious one from Andy’s POV where he’s a therapist)

i’m working on a sequel to When it Rains, it Pours!! fucking stupid, right? it’s about the years Eddie and Andy spend together after the war in Boston, living their lives and dealing with domestic problems such as the pests nibbling Andy’s petunias!!

I’m always excited about the AndyEddie Avatar AU but rarely talk about it because it’s essentially unwritable; the avatar universe has distinct visual and lore design that isn’t really compatible in writing. besides that, another fic idea bit me in the ass yesterday but you’ll have to wait to see if it comes to anything lmao

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for?

this question is unlawful. do not pass go, do not collect $200.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

none of my pleasure tropes contain guilt, let that be said!!

enemies-to-lovers gets me every damn time, mutual pining, robots (kills me instantly, maximum damage), general whump to be frank, last stand (or perceived last stand), evil parallel universe, god complex, accent slip up, the satisfying payoff of a good chekchov’s smoking gun, big softie, save the person not the cause, revenge is best served violent, found family, unhealthy devotion to another party, silent but deadly

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

probably First Priority atm, I’m just ripping off alien to allow Eddie to fuck his robot boyfriend. i did write a wilder fic a long time ago, it was Skip/Malarkey about ancient Judea, that was wildly self-satisfying at the time

#i need an ask tag and now i have #warbraved

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xserpentlife · 5 years

Text

On Your Terms

Requested: Anon - Can you do sweet pea x reader where the reader is a bit shy and a northsider and wants to keep their relationship pg13? @depressingwiimusic - yes, first I wanna say I love your stories and I love you. second, could you do a sweet pea x reader where the reader is this shy girl who's kinda geeky and likes reading and is really smart and super sweet but is also Reggie's little sister? also like, I don't mind cursing by any means but can the reader not curse in it? like to go with the innocent, sweet vibes she puts out

A/N: I combined two requests for this fic because I thought they went well together. Hope you enjoy! I also put a different spin on this one with the way it was written. I just felt the italics fit more in some parts. Thank you to @wayward-river for being my beta as always

Warnings: Small mention of bad past relationship, Tiny bit of violence Reggie/Sweet Pea

Summary: You and Sweet Pea started dating a few weeks ago but you have known each other for about a year. Ever since the Serpent's joined Riverdale high you became close to him. For a while it was just a friendship but then it turned into more. It’s starting to get weird though, he tries kissing and once it almost led to more but you had to stop him. You’ve been through things that he doesn’t know, you also need to tell him that your brother is Reggie, but you don’t want to scare him away.

Word Count: 4593

Y/N POV

You were meeting Sweet Pea behind the school to hang out for a bit before your next class. You watched him walk out the back door and saunter over with Fangs and Toni following. Everyone in the Serpents knew about the relationship, but not many people from the Northside did, especially not Reggie your brother.

“Hey Babe” He kissed your cheek and then went down for your lips but you turned away. If there weren’t people around that was okay with you, but with other people, it just made you so uncomfortable.

“Hey Pea”

“You okay baby?”

“Yeah, I uh, I gotta go”

“Wait! Will I see you at the Wyrm later?” You threw a yeah over your shoulder before running off and bumping into your brother.

“Sorry Y/N”

“Oh hey Reg”

“You coming to the game tonight?”

“No, I uh, I’m hanging out with Toni”

“The Serpent”

“Reg please don’t she’s more than that, she is a good friend to me”

“Whatever Y/N just be careful, Okay?”

“Okay Reg, I will” You heard the bell ring and you headed to your next class, you went home after getting changed to go to the Wyrm. You threw on a pair of jeans and a flannel before heading out.

You walked into the Wyrm seeing Toni behind the bar

“Hey babe”

“Hey T, where’s Pea, wait lemme guess… pool” you stood on your tiptoes looking over the serpents shoulder and seeing your boyfriend playing with Fangs.

“Is that even a question girl?”

“Not really haha”

“He should be done soon though, you want a drink”

“T you know”

“I know, I was talking about water or a coke”

“Yeah, I'll take a water, put it in a glass for me though?”

“Always” You were innocent, never really doing anything your parents would disapprove of. You weren’t like many other teenagers, you didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, and definitely didn’t party. You really never went out of the house much until you met Sweet Pea. Honestly, you still didn't know how he fell for you. Compared to his life you felt like you were boring.

“Hey babe” Pea kissed you on the lips and you instantly felt a shudder run through your body. You knew that you should just tell him but you couldn’t, it would ruin everything you thought.

“Lemme guess Fangs paying your tab?”

“Always baby girl, always”

“Anyway how are you I missed you earlier”

“I’m good I missed you too, how was the job?”

“Oh it went good”

“That’s good”

“Hey, you wanna dance”

“T, Fangs lets all dance, I wanna have fun tonight” It was always nice for you to come out and forget who you were on the Northside, maybe that’s why you liked being on the Southside so often. You could be who you wanted, and be seen with who you wanted without getting judged. You danced for a while with Fangs, Pea and Toni. It was fun hanging out with them. When you started dating Pea it became a weekly thing and you always looked forward to it. You guys finally stopped after about 4 songs and went back to the bar.

“Hey, T fill me up?” Fangs went over to a new initiate and started grinding with him, while Toni stayed behind the bar working. You looked around seeing all the couples making out, dancing, grinding, and everything in between. Then you looked over to Sweet Pea standing behind you, literally just standing. You wanted to be like the other couples and you knew Pea’s history. He had girls all over him. You wanted to be that girl for him, and you wanted to be able to kiss him in the bar and school like other girls probably did, but it wasn’t you and you hated that.

“Uhm, I gotta go” You stood up gaining the attention of Toni and Pea, you began walking out of the Wyrm before you felt Peas hand around your wrist.

“Wait, babe stop, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just, uhm have homework”

“Y/N just talk to me”

“Nothing's going on I just, I need to go, your dating a nerd remember, I have a lot of homework you know honors classes and such” Which wasn’t a lie you did have a lot of homework.

“Hey for your information I like dating a nerd, your cute when you do your experiments and stuff”

“You’re an idiot”

“I feel offended” You watched his hand go over his chest as a shocked look came over his face.

“Okay big guy, I gotta go” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before beginning to walk off.

“Wait can I walk you home?”

“My parents are their Sweets, you know how they are”

“Can I at least walk you almost there”

“Yeah” you began walking hand in hand with Pea. It was nice being alone and just enjoying each others company.

“What homework do you have”

“Well I have English, but then I need to work on my project for Reading Olympics”

“That’s awesome are you having fun with it”

“Honestly, yeah”

“Your gonna do great” you began laughing at the thought. Just the big bad Serpent being so proud of you for something you were making, and for it to be reading related made it even funnier.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You?”

“Why me?”

“Because it is hilarious to me that we are dating”

“Do you not…”

“God no Pea, I love being with you, it’s just funny to me like just our personalities and everything so different about us. Like you, the big bad Serpent who wears leather jackets and usually has a busted knuckle is dating the boring northside girl who loves writing and doing English projects.

“Baby I love being with you, I love watching you read, I love hearing you talk about the stories that you read, and I love the joy you get when you show me the things you have written. Just because we are different doesn't mean that we aren't right for each other. We may be different but that doesn't matter to me, because honestly when I’m with you I forget about everything but you”

“You're adorable you know that”

“Yeah, don’t go telling anyone I got a rep to keep up princess”

“Oh yeah, I'm sure you do big guy”

“Hey princess” he pulled you around and in for a hug.

“Yeah?”

“We arrived at your castle” You look up to see your house at the end of the street, you hadn’t even realized how far you walked. He always had a way to make you laugh, no matter what it was he always did.

“My castle?”

“I mean you are a princess”

“Like the princess and the Pea”

“Oh, and I'm the dork?”

“I love you Y/N, I’ll see you later” he threw his arm around you pulling you in for a hug. He pulled away landing a quick peck to your lips. You began walking towards your house. You looked back once or twice to see him standing there before you entered through your gate. Pea always waited till you got to the door never trusting the streets at night, he needed to know you were safe. You felt your phone buzz pulling it out of your pocket and seeing Pea’s name.

P: Did you get inside?

Y/N: You watched me walk through the gate…

P: That’s not inside baby girl, I can’t see past the gate. Did you get into the house?

Y/N: Yeah Pea I did

P: Alright baby I love you I’ll see you tomorrow

Y/N: Love you too Pea

Pea always begged to walk you to the door, but you would never let him. You couldn’t risk him seeing the Mantle sign that hung on the door once you entered. It wasn’t that you were afraid to tell him, you were afraid for Reggie to find out, afraid he would stop you from dating.

You went upstairs doing some of your homework before laying in bed and drifting off to sleep. You woke up the next morning walking downstairs and see Reggie sat at the counter.

“Hey Reg”

“Hey Y/N, how was Toni’s”

“Good, I came back early to get some homework done, How was the game?”

“Really good, we won”

“Oh really, that’s awesome you guys have been doing really good this season”

“Yeah we got a good team, you know the old guys and the new ones are working really well together”

“That’s good, how’s the Serpent beef?”

“Not really there we kinda just play and let it all ago, it’s not really like last year”

“Good, good”

“Yeah, Hey do you need a ride to school?”

“Sure, thanks” The ride to school was quiet, small talk here and there. You arrived at school and walked to the library knowing you wanted to get a start on the book you were reading, your favorite book at that. You sat down beginning the chapter you were on before you got distracted by your phone buzzing.

P: Where are you?

P: baby you good?

P: Y/N?

Y/N: Sorry Pea I was reading

P: oh cool, sorry I bothered you what are you reading?

Y/N: your not a bother and you know it, and Y/F/B

P: oh cool that’s your favorite right?

Y/N: yeah

P: hey where are you tho?

Y/N: library

P: can I come?

Y/N: of course

Your phone didn’t buzz anymore and a few seconds later you got startled by hands around your eyes, laying against your skin. You recognized the scent that enveloped you and the rough calloused skin that laid on the hands. You could tell it was Sweet Pea without even a glance up.

“Pea?”

“Maybe…” He kissed your lips while his hands still covered your eyes. Luckily no one was in the library during this time and you were completely alone with him.

“Oh now I know it’s you”

“Damn right” You watched as he sat next to you on the couch and pulled you closer.

“So baby girl tell me about this book again”

“I’ve told you so many times before”

“Oh, and I could relay every detail tenfold but I love hearing you talk about it” So you did, you told him every small detail and he would even mention tiny things that you missed. He always paid close attention when you talked. When you first began to hang out you always thought he ignored you but one day when he said something about a book that you even forgot telling him that is when you knew. You knew that he genuinely listened. He never got bored with the books, and he never got bored of you, he even read a book with you once so he could talk about it in depth like you had so many times. As you talked about the book and other random things he steals kisses here and there. At one point you got lost in a kiss only being interrupted by a cough from Fangs and Toni. Your heart plummeted when you turned and looked at them. They had seen you kiss Pea, they had seen you kissing him and it brought all the memories to the surface. The thoughts came onto you faster than they usually did, today wouldn’t be a good one.

“Y/N you okay?” You couldn't say a word the thoughts clouding your mind.

“Hey talk to me”. He pecked your lips with his, a thing that would usually get you out of your head when you were alone, but with the people around it made it worse. You rushed out of the school running before you felt a hand grab yours.

“No, you‘re not running from me, I know how you get when you run, we're going to the quarry, now” His tone was pleading, you didn’t want to argue he was going to need to know eventually. He walked you to his truck, opening the door and ushering you in before walking around to his side. He took your hand as he drove the short distance. You got out of the truck walking over to the couch and sat down.

“Y/N please talk to me, am I, am I losing you”

“No definitely not”

“Then what’s going on, I want to give you the smallest peck something you like and you pulled away completely and ran. Does my breath smell or something?” even when he was serious and you were upset the laughter would always come.

“No babe your breath smells fine”

“Then what?”

“I just didn’t want to kiss”

“That’s not it, your lying baby I know when you lie. Plus you’ve been doing it so often and you’ve never had a problem kissing me before and then you ran out of the Wyrm last night why?”

“I just I feel bad”

“Why?”

“I can’t” your head began shaking the thoughts pouring in and a tear slipping down your eye

“Hey you can, I mean if you're comfortable I'm here to listen”

“Okay” He grabbed your hand a signal to keep going .”Before I dated you, two years… before I dated you I was dating a guy named Chad. He wasn’t a good guy”

“Did he hit you”

“No, never but what he did was almost worse”

“What do you mean?”

“Well at first it was great, he was sweet and we were happy. But then we started telling people and he got possessive almost. Every time someone was around he would kiss me, and when I asked him to stop he wouldn't. That possessiveness in public never went further than kissing but it hurt me. Constantly being used almost as an owned object. I felt dirty, disgusting. I started getting anxious in front of people. I knew if I was around people I wouldn’t be able to be with him without the constant PDA he always put onto me. Then one day it got too much he kept kissing me turning into a makeout after one of my guy friends said I looked pretty. It was too much I lost my breath until y friend pulled him off and I could finally breathe. I broke up with him and he started dating my old best friend. I just ever since then relationships, I just couldn't do them, not until I met you”

“Baby If I knew I never would have done that”

“I know, I know I should have told you but I couldn’t, I wasn't scared I just didn’t want to, I feel so broken. I want to be with you in public but, there's just so many things you don’t know that scare the shit out of me. I ran out of the Wyrm the other day because of all the people making out. Seeming them so happy with their partners I just couldn’t. I want to be able to kiss you in public, but I mean it scared the shit out of me. I just don’t want it to control me anymore. Before I would kiss you at school because we would always hide and no one was around, but then Fangs and Toni found out and they are usually around it just, it causes my anxiety to skyrocket sometimes”

“Baby I wish I knew I am so sorry that I didn't know. Well I have an idea, I mean only if you're comfortable”

“We work through this, you know I would never hurt you like that, ever”

“I know, but what do you mean work through it”

“You take control, you kiss me when you want where you want however long you want. I don’t want you to feel scared that I am going to trap you by a kiss or be possessive of you because that isn’t who I am and I don’t want to be that person to you. I want you to be able to have control of it, and maybe that control will help you to not be afraid of kissing in public anymore and if you are that’s okay. I’ll just hold your hand and that will be enough for me, honestly baby girl as long as I'm with you I don’t care if I can kiss you in public or not”

“Okay”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I want to try, I want to be with you and be able to be with you in public”

For weeks you have been working with Sweet Pea, him letting you sneak kisses here and there, and even you letting him sneak a few. It grew comfortable being able to kiss him with others around. It never went further than a peck and it was only done once or twice in front of people you knew. There were a few hiccups where the thoughts came back but Pea always pushed them down by grabbing your hand and placing a kiss to your knuckles. For some reason, that small gesture always knocked you out of your thoughts. You workers so hard at being able to be with him you now walked through school hand in hand.

It had been about three weeks since the talk that you had with Sweet Pea. He was standing with you by your locker when you pulled him close to you kissing him as you leaned back against the locker with him standing in front of you. The kiss only broke not by choice when your brother pulled Sweet Pea onto the floor catching him off guard and landing a swift punch to his jaw. You had been so wrapped up in trying to work through your issues you completely forgot about hiding the relationship from Reggie. You Were scared to tell Reggie for the pure fact that he knew about Chad. He rarely let you get close to anyone due to it, not that you wanted to until now. You got broken out of your thoughts when Sweet Pea grunted in pain, he wasn't fighting back something odd especially for him and especially against a bulldog.

“Reggie stop!”

“Why would I stop this asshole kissed you and had you against a locker” Another kick landed to Sweet Pea's ribs. You looked to the side to see Fangs and Toni now watching.

“Reggie please” another punch landing to Sweet Pea’s eye. You couldn’t take it anymore and Reggie wasn’t listening. As another punch was about to come you ran in front of Reggie pushing him back as hard as you could to at least give you a little time to reason with him. You stood leaning over Sweet Pea. Reggie couldn’t hurt him without hurting you with the way you were standing.

“Y/N move!”

“No Reg you gotta stop”

“He hurt you, you could have gone into one of your anxiety spells “

“No, no, no he didn’t hurt me”

“But he had you against a locker”

“I was in control that whole time Reg, I pulled him to me and put myself against the locker, I kissed him”

“Why!”

“Because we're dating”

“He is using you, what does he want? Is he forcing you?”

“God no we've been dating for about a month now, he’s great”

“Look I have practice, but we are talking about this later, be home after school got it” With that Reggie walked about before you could get another word in. You looked to Sweet Pea clutching his stomach.

“Fangs, Toni help me get him into the truck before the next class starts” they both came over gripping under his arms as he grunted you grabbed both of your backpacks before following them out to his truck. He had passed out on the drive to your house.

“Pea, Pea please baby wake up”

“I’m okay Y/N”

“I'm gonna help you inside so I can clean you up okay”

“Where are we?” “My house, before you say anything I don’t care if they know” He stood out of the truck with you helping him and you made it inside slowly. You brought him upstairs and into your bedroom and onto your bed. You laid him down and ran downstairs grabbing an ice pack before grabbing the first aid kit out of your bathroom. You laid the ice pack onto his stomach while you cleaned the cuts on his face. You began washing then cuts out and apply some ointment to them so they would heal.

“Baby I need you to stand up, your ribs are gonna bruise by the looks of it and I need to wrap it up”

“How are you so good at this”

“Football, I’ve patched Reggie up more times than I can count on both hands” You helped him stand and wrapped the bandage around him tightly.

“Baby ow, that’s so tight”

“Yeah, I know it’s either that your you don’t heal and your ribs float around”

“Your dramatic”

“Yeah, but it'll make you listen”

“Touche, now I deserve a cuddle come lay down” You slipped out of your jeans putting on Sweet Pea’s shirt that had been discarded onto the floor. Luckily there was no blood on it and you loved wearing his clothes.

“Stealing my shirt baby girl”

“When do I not”

“True’ You laid down with him tracing circles onto the top of his chest, careful going around his wrapped up ribs. You needed to know.

“Hey Pea?”

“Yeah baby”

“Why didn’t you fight back, you've never backed out of a fight”

“I wasn’t gonna knock out your brother Y/N, plus I wouldn’t fight in front of you unless I had to, you know that” You jolted up out of his arm earning a wince from him.

“Oh my god I'm so sorry”

“baby im okay just a little sore no worries”

"So wait you're telling me you knew”

“Of course I knew, I’ve known for a while”

“How? When?”

“that first time I walked you to the end of your street you thought I walked away but I followed you to the gate, I saw the name on the door and I kind of put two and two together” “Why didn’t you tell me”

“I knew you would tell me when you were ready”

“Well, thank you I mean, for not rushing me”

“Never baby you know that now come back here you were keeping me warm” You laid down again fingers tracing shapes into his chest once more. You quickly heard soft snores come from his mouth and you drifted to sleep shortly after. You woke up feeling eyes on you. And you looked over to see Reggie sitting in the chair across the room. He caused you to jump waking Pea in the process.

“What’s wrong!” Pea jumped up after you before slamming back down onto the bed in a yelp of pain.

“That… what… a bad idea”

“Oh my god baby I’m sorry are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I'm good” you heard the pain in his breaths but you didn’t want Reggie to hurt him anymore so you stepped in front of the bed.

“Reg please don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything” Reggie just sat staring at the both of you while all this went down. “Reg what are you doing?”

“So your together?”

“yes”

“Has he ever once touched you where you didn’t want him to?”

“No”

“Has he ever once pushed you further than you wanted to go?”

“No”

“Has he ever laid a hand on you?”

“No”

“Have you ever been scared of him”?

“God no”

“Do you like him?”

“I love him Reg”

“You love him?”

“I do Reg. I care about him so much and he makes me feel as safe as you do. He never once pushed me to do anything I didn’t want to do. I have control to choose when I want to go further and when I don’t. He helped me through the Chad issues making me feel like I got my power back, that’s why I was against the locker. I wasn’t scared I was comfortable” Pea interrupted

“Mantle if I ever felt she didn’t want something even as small as a kiss or me holding her hand, honestly anything I would stop instantly, I never want her to feel uncomfortable, ever”

“Do you love her”

“I do Mantle, I really do she makes me happy every time I'm ever upset or angry. I could be in such a bad mood but once I see her everything goes away instantly. I love being with her, I know I'm in love with her, and I couldn’t be happier”

“Alright” You watched him about to walk out of the room.

“That’s it? You're not mad?”

“I'm mad you didn’t tell me, I'm not mad you're dating him, I told you I learned who the Serpents were. I may not agree with everything they do and I may not want you to date one but you are and it is what it is, plus I don’t know any other guy who wouldn’t fight back let alone move while they were getting even if I am her brother, to be honest dude no guy I know is like that. Hell if one of the girls I’ve dated brother came after me I’d knock him the fuck out. But I am curious why did you? I mean I know you get in fights that’s not a secret I'm honestly surprised”

“I knew you were her brother but she didn’t tell me you were, she was afraid of losing what we had if she did. I mean she just told me about Chad a few weeks ago. Plus I know how fighting makes her feel. I wouldn’t fight in front of her unless I had to, and I wouldn’t fight you, you're her brother and she cares about you”

“You’re a good man Sweet Pea, take care of her or this time your ribs will actually break, got it?”

“I got it, Mantle, hey wait, thank you for being so cool with this. I promise to take care of her, really I mean it”

“I know you do” With that you watched your brother walk out of your room and you heard his bedroom door open and close at the end of the hallway. You turned to Sweet Pea who was still lying on the bed.

“That went better than I thought”

“Honestly I'm shocked too baby girl, but I’m happy we don’t have to hide anymore”

“Me too”

“Now come cuddle meeeeeeeeee”

“Wow you get real needy when your hurt”

“Don’t tell anyone”

“I know, I know. You gotta rep to uphold I get it” You watched his arms raise motioning for you to climb into the bed with him. You obliged slowly climbing into the bed with him.

“Can we stay like this forever”

“I mean I’m not complaining, but you know I kinda gotta pee”

“Please for the love of god tell me you are joking baby girl, I just wanna cuddle you!”

“Calm down ya big baby I'm kidding”

“Good” he placed a kiss to your forehead before slipping his hand to your back. You slowly felt his fingers rubbing up and down relaxing you instantly. You nodded off as his hand slowed down the slow beat of his chest causing a rhythm to sync between your breathing. You fit with him like a puzzle piece and it’s the only thing you could wish for.

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spnfanficpond · 4 years

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November 2019 Pond LiveChat Recap

We had a great time chatting with @tricia-16, today! Thank you so much for joining us and giving us your thoughts!

We had a great time today chatting about keeping characters true to what we’re used to seeing on screen, even when we’re writing them into an AU. How do you decide what traits are sacred and what you can or should change when you take our beloved boys out of the hunting life and into other worlds? A rundown of the chat, as well as general Pond new, is below the cut!

For those who don’t know her, Tricia is not (yet - I’m gonna work on her!) a member of the Pond, but she is a popular Destiel writer on AO3, and a force for good in the fandom on Twitter. Most of her stories are AUs, with a couple of canon stories, so she has experience in both types. Her current WIP is called Light Me Up, and it’s based around Dean and Cas discovering that Lisa had a child after a fateful night with the two of them. Lisa has recently passed, and gave joint custody of her son, Liam, to Dean and Cas together. The prequel, Why’s It Feel So Good? is simply hot, Hot, HOT, and shouldn’t be skipped! She updates every Monday, which helps to fight off the Garfield in all of us and make Mondays something to look forward to.

We started off talking about side characters.

Q: (@loudenswainfangirl (Michelle H.) How do you create that AU version when you don't have a lot of canon content to draw from? For instance, Donna. Canon gives us some in sight to her character but there is also a lot we don’t know. I've been working on a fic with Donna as the main and I'm having a difficult time putting my own interpretation on her. Inner thoughts, hang ups, struggles, that sort of thing.

Tricia: Michelle, I have no idea how you do that with the side characters who don't have a lot to go on. I think that's why in my stories they tend to focus more completely on Cas/Dean than the surrounding characters. I think in a lot of cases they end up more like an original character with a familiar character's face, in my head. If you're talking AU, I'd create almost an entire new character with Donna's personality. Write down how she grew up, her likes/dislikes, her personality flaws and strengths. You'll get an idea of who she is, which should help influence her dialogue and motivations behind why she acts how she does within the story.

Q: Have you gotten any backlash for side characters not sounding right or being OOC?

Tricia: I don't think many people read my stories for the side characters, so I haven't gotten a ton of feedback on them. I know people didn't like Charlie's big mouth in Start of Something Good, but I think she'd be super forward like that to try to help Dean so it didn't bother me.

Q: Which do you find easier, AU or canon?

Tricia: AU, without a doubt. And it's for the simple reason that I think there's more wiggle room when it comes to keeping them in character that way. While a lot of the big character traits will remain the same, there's wiggle room to change some things up depending on the world I create. A big one is family life. If Dean grew up with both parents in a loving home, I find it easy to believe he wouldn't be quite as emotionally unavailable as he is on the show, for example. @katehuntington (Kate): I get that, I can relate to that. I find both comfortable, but with AU’s I feel like I need to establish where I wanna go first, and then think how Dean (for instance) would get there and how it would affect him. AUs also create situation that wouldn’t be possible in canon, like certain side characters interacting with each other. That’s what I like about it. Michelle H.: That's what I love about AU, Tricia. Creating a different background opens up so many possibilities. An AU is, essentially, your world. I feel more people will be more critical and have higher expectations with canon based fic.

Q: What do you do when you're afraid you've maybe taken a character too far outside of their usual character?

Kate: Say their lines out loud if it’s dialogue, checking if I can hear that character say that. And it depends on the background. I’m honestly not worried that often. Guess with two or three betas on board who would tell me if it’s OOC, you build that kind of confidence. So what was said earlier: if Sam or Dean for instance grew up in a stable environment, they would respond differently than they would canon. @mrswhozeewhatsis (Mrs. Michelle): Betas help a LOT. Talking it out with other fans is HUGE, sometimes. (If you’re looking for a beta, check out this list of betas here!) Kate: Going over scenarios with people who know your story, your style, etc, is really helpful! Michelle H: You think so? Because that's what I want to do and have so far but I'm afraid of backlash. Mrs. Michelle: Never be afraid of backlash. If someone else doesn't like your interpretation, they don't have to read it. And if they're rude enough to comment, they're just RUDE. Michelle H: Good point. I guess because I write rare pairs I have so little exposure and I'm afraid to chase away those I do have. Tricia: If you can explain WHY your character is the way that she is (even within the story or outside of it in comments, etc) you shouldn't face much backlash. They might not like the choices you make, but that's on them, not you.

Q: What are the easiest and hardest parts of staying true to SPN characters when writing AUs for you?

Tricia: Easiest is the big things. Dean loves pie, drives his car, loves rock music. Sam's a nerd, Cas doesn't know much about pop culture/doesn't get a lot of jokes. Those are the things I feel should stay the same in any universe. (Imagine a world where Dean doesn't like his car? WHO IS HE?) Hardest is getting Dean to talk about his feelings. We know him to be closed off and anti-emotion, so to make him open up enough to fall in love while still remaining in character is always a struggle. That's why so many of my fics are from Dean's POV. Without access to his inner thoughts, he'd come across completely different than he does with them. Kate: Easiest parts for me is taking there personality traits, analyse where they come from and if you can, use those traits in favor of your story. Hardest part for me is when you wanna make certain changes for the sake of the AU, but feel like it’s not in character. That’s the hiccup I experience most. For instance (for the people who know Ride With Me) Dean on the show can’t really play guitar and his singing isn’t great either. For my country boy/cowboy AU, I added that, even though it’s not of significant importance to the story line. It just felt good. I go on gut feeling a lot personally.

Q: What changes to their character might you first consider when you're coming up with a new story line? Are there any traits that you immediately considering changing without question, and conversely, are there any traits that are sacred? For example, you've already discussed how Dean is different when he's had a stable family. Is that a common starting point for you, or does it depend on the story?

Tricia: This might seem like an obvious answer, but Dean and Cas's sexuality is always a big one. Do they know they're attracted to men when they meet? Are they purely attracted to men, bi, do they think they're straight? Dean "getting around" sexually is almost always part of my stories. I can't imagine a prude-ish version of Dean. Kate: For me Dean’s self worth (or the lack of it) and his kindness for the people who need it, are traits that I won’t ever let go of.

Q: Besides pie and Baby, are there any other traits of Dean and Cas that you feel are sacred and shouldn't be touched?

Tricia: Dean's fierce protectiveness of Sam is the first thing that comes to mind. I think I tend to write Cas as seeing Dean as almost... perfect. He refuses to give up on him, forgives him even when he shouldn't, and that's all based on who he is on the show, too.

Q: Has there ever been a story line or story element that you've loved, but ultimately decided to ditch because it was too OOC, even for an AU?

Tricia: When I wrote Molting Expectations, there's a scene where Cas was basically going into "angel heat" and I actually wrote Dean giving into temptation and something physical happening between them when Cas clearly didn't know what he was asking for. And once I wrote it, I read it over, and immediately went, "Nope. Dean's stronger than that." And I ditched the whole scene.

Q: On those occasions where you wrote in canon, you obviously have to be more strict about changing things. How do you decide what's sacred and what can be shifted? Basically, what’s your barometer for “I’ve gone too far this time”?

Tricia: I think for me, it comes down to my interpretation of the characters. Some die hard fans would tell you that Dean is 100% straight and nothing can convince them otherwise. I believe there are moments of episodes that imply he's not 100% straight, so I feel justified in making that more explicit in my stories. Dean admitting he likes chick flicks makes me think maybe he's a bit softer inside than he wants to present a lot of the time, so I can almost exploit that about him in canon fic, for example. But more than anything, I think, it's the dialogue that I struggle with in canon fic, and after reading it back, it's a gut feeling. There's a lot of tweaking individual words, changing the way I make my characters talk to the way Dean/Cas actually talk. I do that by looking at transcripts of episodes. That's actually how I wrote Donna's dialogue in Light Me Up, even though it isn't canon, because I haven't written her character very much. I looked at the words she repeats in all of the episodes she's in to get a sense for how she spoke. I wrote a big love confession from Dean during Don't, and then scrapped it all because I couldn't see him actually saying that out loud. (And it frustrated me because it was SO GOOD and all things Dean was thinking, but I knew in my gut they were words he'd never say out loud.) Mrs. Michelle: I've noticed that the characters in this show we love really don't talk much. Any time I've written a long paragraph of one of TFW talking, I've always cut it down to a third of it. They rarely make speeches. @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish (Kaisha): Those are Winchesters for you, as few words as possible! Tricia: They also use each other's names 100 times more than regular people in regular conversation! LOL Kate: I go on gut when it comes to taking a character too far. And also remember that it’s your story. If you believe that Dean or Sam would respond a certain way under these circumstances, then write it.

Q: Dean and smoking: In character or not? And why or why not?

Tricia: Smoking seems self-destructive enough (with the benefit of soothing nerves, or so I've heard) that I could see Dean smoking. The only reason I can think of why in canon it wouldn't be in character is because of the cost. Especially when the Winchesters didn't have the bunker, would Dean always have the money to buy a pack of smokes? I would guess probably not. Michelle H: I would think he'd rather use the funds for whiskey. Mrs. Michelle: I could see Dean stealing smokes. Like, back in the olden days when they weren’t kept locked up. Of course, the first time he got winded, and therefore injured by a monster, he might decide to quit.

To wrap up, we all kind of agreed that when we’re questioning if a character is OOC or not, we try to imagine the character in canon doing or saying what we’ve written and we go with our gut. If we’re still unsure, we ask friends and beta readers for help. As always, Betas make everything betta!!

Next month we’re going to talk about structuring long plots with @jhoomwrites on 12/7/19 at 5PM Eastern time! Mark your calendars!

General Pond Updates and Reminders

What we’ve got cooking up next: Not much, at the moment, since everyone is busy, so we’re just trying to keep up with the day-to-day at the moment! Our to do list is still long, though, and will not be neglected forever! Next up is organizing the tagging system on the blog to make it easier for readers to find the stories they’re interesting in and for writers to find the help they’re looking for!

Reminders:

Angel Fish Award nominations are accepted all month long! No need to wait to tell us how much you liked a fellow Fish’s work! IF YOU HAVE SENT IN A NOMINATION, BUT HAVE NOT RECEIVED A PRIVATE MESSAGE CONFIRMING WE RECEIVED IT, WE DIDN’T GET IT. Be sure to use Submit instead of Ask!

Don’t forget to submit your stories to be posted to the blog! When your stories are on the blog, then they are easier to nominate for Angel Fish Awards!

Say hi to October’s New Members! (If we missed someone, let us know!)

Check the Pond CALENDAR to see when Big Fish will be in the Skype chat room/discord general channel and other Pond and SPN events are happening! Know of something that’s not on the calendar, send us an ask or submission with the deets info details! The calendar offers a lot of features, such as showing you when things are in your own timezone! Since we’re an international group, that’s a definite plus!!

We’re looking for a guest speaker for January to talk about RPF! If you know of an RPF writer that you’d like to hear from, let us know!!

#spnfanficpond livechat #chat recap #chat room #let's chat #THE CHAT ROOM #pond chat #character development #Characterization

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may-shepard · 6 years

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the fine art of positive beta-ing

(This post was inspired by the incredible writers at the 2018 Fic Writers’ Retreat, which has just wrapped, and especially by @shamelessmash and @nautilicious. I love you awesome nerds!)

I have a confession to make: for a long time, I thought I was a writer who could not receive feedback. In an effort to hone my craft, I attended workshops and took classes where critique circles were part of the deal, hoping that some insight that my crit partners offered would help me get better, and better. This, I thought, was what I needed: another flail, in addition to the ones I applied to my work myself.

You know this kind of workshop, and this kind of attitude. Maybe you are holding onto it yourself: good writers are forged in Hell Places where All Mistakes Must Be Pointed Out and Eliminated and If You Can’t Take the Heat Get Out of the Kitchen. I was told that my use of commas was annoying. I was told that my choice of subgenre was untimely. I was red penned into a stupor.

Despite the fact that I was able to edit myself to the point where I got a few pieces accepted for publication, crit never, ever worked for me. I emerged from these experiences both pissed off and self-flagellating. I couldn’t see through the multiple and often contradictory corrections offered by my fellow critters, or the instructor, when I was taking a course.

Any piece I exposed to someone else’s crit, I always trunked, totally convinced that the problems with it were intractable, and that there was no point in trying to fix it. Worse yet, I felt like somehow I’d failed as a writer: I couldn’t take the heat. Perhaps it was time for me to exit the kitchen.

After a few failed attempts to find a crit circumstance that worked for me, and a really long bout of writer’s block, I managed to recover myself enough that I could write, by convincing myself that maybe I was just not a crit sort of a writer. I limited myself to troubleshooting my plots with my partner, who is great at reworking plots. As for making my craft better, I decided to go it alone.

Then I met @shamelessmash, and everything changed, because she changed the way I look at the act of beta reading, and the way I do it.

Way back when (uh, at 2017’s Fic Writer’s Retreat?), Mash and I were both working on longish projects, and, in part because I had a hand in helping her develop the idea for her lovely Sherlock fic A Case of Identity--The Musical, we agreed to trade beta.

(I can admit now that I hoped that she would accept beta from me and then like, forget that she’d offered to beta my fic in return.)

When she first asked me to read a chapter of ACOI, she specified that she wanted squee only: just positive feedback on what was working so far. I’d never had anyone ask that before, so I had no idea what was going to happen next. (Spoiler: really great things.)

At first, I thought, no problem! The fic was in the early stages of development, and we all want a little bit of encouragement along the way. As I read, and I thought, oh, there’s a comma here, a verb that could verb in a verbier way over there, I was tempted to mention it, but then I remembered her request and I refrained. I try, when I can, not to be a shitty friend. I also try not to be a shitty beta, which, hey you guys, means respecting the writer’s right to ask for the kind of feedback they want, and trying your best to offer it.

At the same time, the part of me that wants to be useful was squirming. How could 100% positive feedback possibly help someone hone their work into something better?

Boy was I about to find out. You will too, under the cut.

Receiving positive feedback makes you want to keep going.

Mash, super smart awesome writer that she is, knew that she wanted motivation to carry on forward. She was trying to get as much of the draft done as possible, before she started to post. There is nothing wrong with needing positive feedback in order to keep going. It’s really, really clever to ask for it. Knowing that the premise was working and that what she’d written so far was charming (and it was, so so so charming, holy crap) gave her a boost, and who the fuck doesn’t need that?

Asking for positive feedback only is a good idea, you guys. Try it the next time you ask for help with an early draft of a thing.

The other lessons came when it was time for me to share my stuff with her. See above re: reasons why I really hesitate to let people crit my stuff, but, given who Mash is, I was pretty sure it would be okay.

It was okay. It was more than okay. It was brilliant, amazing, incredible.

If you’ve never had the pleasure of receiving beta from a writer who is really really good at knowing what works in a story, and is willing to yell at you about what’s working in yours, let me tell you, it is a treat and so, so helpful. As I watched Mash go through my google doc on the first couple of chapters of my Sherlock fic The Burning Heart, leaving trails of keysmash and screaming as she went, I not only felt like a goddamn writing genius, but I also was taking substantial notes about where she was doing it.

Knowing what is working in a story is even more important for a writer than knowing what is not working.

If you know what works, you can play that up, and do more of it. That’s one reason, one very good reason, why telling a writer what you like in their story is a good idea, but there’s an even more important one.

Telling a writer what works helps them understand their own magic.

We all know, even if we’ve never been told, that what makes a writer great is not whether or not they can follow the rules for good writing, but rather, whatever it is that is uniquely theirs, that they bring to a story. Good craft, which you can learn, will always, always help you make your story more clear to whoever is reading it. Good story, good magic, the unique ineffable sense of play that makes you want to tell this story in this way at this point in time, that’s what makes people think, whoa wow whoa, this is amazing. It flourishes when it’s praised. When your magic is ignored, like it is when you receive crit that’s 100% focused on your mistakes, it lies down on the floor and refuses to get up again.

This is one major source of writer’s block. Even if you think offering positive feedback is kind of bullshit, I think it’s good, from a writerly karma pov, to avoid doing things that block other writers, especially the ones who’ve asked you for feedback.

But wait there’s more!

Mash did a lot more than keysmash and scream: she also asked questions when she was particularly excited.

The questions you, as a reader, are dying to have answered are invaluable writer feedback.

Hey is x going to do y next? (Insert inevitable joke about x being y’s love interest.)

Oh my god what did he mean by that?

How long is it going to be before we find out the answer to the question you laid out in Chapter Three?

These questions let me know where the breadcrumb trail I was trying to leave was effective. Under some circumstances, they let me know when I was waiting too long for a reveal. This alone helped me hone my plot.

Radio silence helps you see where what you wanted to achieve isn’t coming through.

We all have those places in our writing where we think we’ve really nailed it. When you’re dealing with a beta whose primary mode is positive, and they skim past the moment that you hoped was Big and Significant and Came off Well, you know you have more work to do. As writers we have ideas of what we’re trying to achieve, and we’re all trying to bridge that gap between what’s in our heads (which is potentially AMAZING) and what’s on the page (which inevitably NEEDS WORK). We know that what we’ve done will benefit from polishing. A lukewarm response to a big deal moment is a great indicator that we need to hit it harder or make it more clear.

The Role of What We Usually Think of When We Think of Crit

What do I think about comments that point out errors or ask thornier questions about what isn’t working? I think they have a place. I think that place is probably less important than most of us think.

It is still definitely helpful, and useful, to let a writer know if you think they’ve made a mistake, or if you think that something could be more clear. If they have an excessive attachment to a particular word or sentence structure, or whatever it may be, it’s fine and helpful and good to note that.

There are gentler ways of doing this that will be more helpful to most writers.

Instead of citing a “writing rule,” consider pointing out what the writer has done.

Never use adverbs they are the devil is easier to take and more useful if you stick to observing what’s on the page: you’ve used twelve adverbs in the last three paragraphs.

Show don’t tell could become instead of saying he’s sad, what about one sentence describing his internal reaction to finding his former partner’s scarf in the glove box?

If you’re offering crit in order to show off your knowledge of “the rules” and to talk about how you would never break those rules but the writer you’re critting has, your ego has taken over, and you’re probably not going to be super helpful in this moment.

Teach, don’t overcorrect.

Where a writer makes the same grammar mistake over and over, this is not the time to judge them and point out every single instance of it, unless they’ve asked you for a SPAG edit. It’s the time to recognise that they probably don’t understand semi-colons and link them to a post that explains them, point out one or maybe two wrong uses of semi-colons as you do your crit, and leave it up to the writer to correct it themselves (or not!).

Believe it or not, people generally like it better when you leave it up to them to take responsibility for their own work, and allow them to decide how much they want to take on board at any given time. If that writer doesn’t want to learn about semi-colons in this exact moment, then that is cool. If you’re not cool with it, perhaps it’s time to examine your excessive attachment to semi-colon evangelism.

Consider the level of the writer and emphasize the positive anyway

If you’re dealing with a beginner writer who is just figuring shit out, for the love of all that’s sweet and tender, just pick one or two mistakes to work on. Tackle verb tenses or POV this time--leave run on sentences for some future moment, and let them know, in no uncertain terms, what you like about what they’ve done. You could be the difference between shutting a writer down or ensuring that they keep going.

If you’re dealing with an advanced writer, please, please don’t assume that they don’t need positive feedback. Mighty oaks need the sun just as much as seedlings do. I’m by no means super adept at my craft, but I’m not a beginner either, and I always, always learn so fucking much when I see what people respond to in my work, when I understand what resonates with them.

A note on the proportion of positive to negative comments

There’s an old saw, that I’ve always found to be a bit cynical, about saying something positive before offering something negative in crit. This is a great idea, in theory. In practice, sometimes people following this rule offer comments like this:

This paragraph has some nice description in it, but

*deep, sucking inhale*

eight sentences follow that go into intimate detail about how many times the writer has used the word feel and how that is not a great idea for these thirteen reasons and also there’s a mistake in the research with reference to the specific century the armor the main character is wearing was most likely to be manufactured and and and and

Okay, I’m hoping you can see why, if this is the only form of positive feedback offered, it might come off as insincere.

On the other hand, in the context of a crit that lavishes praise on everything good, a genuine observation that a particular paragraph has issues or a particular aspect of the timeline is self-contradictory or the writer flips wantonly between first person and third person, is so much easier to take, and so much more likely to be seen as genuinely helpful.

When I go into a crit, I usually try to get my energy up and my mindset into a positive space before I do. I try to remember that on the other end of this work of fiction is a human person who, in the act of offering their work up for feedback, is making themselves vulnerable. If I catch myself dryly pointing out errors without saying much positive, I know that it’s either not a good time for me to be offering crit, or I need to slow down a little and enjoy what I’m reading. (In rare cases, it means I’m not the right person to be beta-ing that particular story.) I try to read like a reader, not like a writer. I try to avoid reading like I do when I’m combing my own stuff for infelicitous turns of phrase or bad logic, unless that’s what the writer has requested.

If you yourself are from the Hell Place and believe that You Work Best When You’re Being Punched In the Face and So Should Everyone Else, first, uh, you probably need a hug, but also, try offering positive crit the next time you beta for someone, and see what a difference it makes. If you’ve never received a crit that’s largely positive, consider asking for one, the next time you go to a trusted beta. Ask them to tell you whatever it is that they think is working. (If they refuse, find someone else who is not from the Hell Place.)

Even if you’re not from the Hell Place, give positive crit a try. We certainly have enough misery in this world. There are many, many reasons to spread some joy, especially where that joy is functional, helpful, and potentially life-changing.

I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

#writing #beta reading #fic writers' retreat

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stedes-black-bonnet · 5 years

Text

My Baby Does Me: Chapter 1

POV: John Deacon x reader

Notes: There’s also Y/N’s best friend, who is a love interest for Roger Taylor; if there’s interest, I could write sections from her POV This will be an on-going fic. I’ll try to update weekly, if not more frequently. Message me with anything. Always willing to chat.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, self-esteem issues(?) fluff for days! Later, it will get steamy AF.

Abstract: Your best friend meets Roger Taylor at a club, and he invites her (and you) to a Queen party.

“You’ll never guess who I met!” Your best friend, Lydia, screeched. Running into your bedroom.

You sat at your piano. You had been under pressure to learn a rather difficult Liszt piece for your senior showcase. Your showcase, you knew, would be one of the most important days of your life; agents and scouts from symphonies, touring companies, theaters, clubs from all around Europe would be there seeking the next big star, the next virtuoso to join their ranks. You were humble, but very gifted in music. And you always had been. Music came as easily to you as dreaming did to others. Music was your life, and Lydia knew it was only a matter of time before you hit it big and became somebody.

You had been practicing like an obsessed shut-in for weeks. Lydia kept trying to pull you away from your “hermit cave,” as she had taken to calling it. She’d rush in and interrupt your work. You loved her and had been friends for years, but your lives were taking you in different directions and you hoped you’d both find a way to maintain your closeness even if you were separated by great distances. She’d erupt into your room, and you’d be absorbed in your music, the rhythms, the sounds; playing scores, you’d teleport to places you’d never been, times you’d never seen, you’d feel everything the musician had put into his or her works. You came alive, you became irresistible, incandescent. However, since you were so caught up in the moment when you played, this was never anything you knew, or experienced or saw for yourself. Your piano your solace away from the world.

“Hello!? Y/N, can you hear me?” Lydia waved a hand in front of your face.

“Sorry, yes. What did you say?” You sounded far away even to yourself. You saw a crease appear in Lydia's forehead, half-concern, half-irritation. You took a breath and painted a smile on your understatedly beautiful face. Taking your glasses off, you said, “I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied lately. I want to make it up to you.” You reached out and touched Lydia's shoulder to hammer the point home. The flowery, flowy shirt under your hands slipped out of your grasp as she took your hand in hers.

“I met someone tonight.” Lydia squeezed your hand to make sure you were really all there.

“Oh?” You had never seen Lydia like this before. Upon closer inspection, you noticed she was flushed, jittery, and unequivocally giddy. “What’s going on?”

“He’s a certain blond rock-god.”

“Get out of here!” You took your hand out of Lydia’s with a laugh, and turned back to your piano. Your friend had pulled this prank many times before. She was into Roger Taylor like most people were into skydiving; everything for her was an extreme sport, she never half-assed anything. It was one of the things you liked most about her; she was all passion and she had the confidence to be loud about it. You wished you had her effortless peacock-esque flare, her showy charm, and, god, she had the best hair of anyone you had ever met: wheat-colored, falling to her waist in easy beach waves. Your own hair was coarse, stubborn, thick and black like the music notes you scanned continuously.

“Y/N! I’m serious! I met Roger Taylor at a club tonight! Queen is back and he invited me to a party tomorrow night! You have to come with me! Please?”

You searched your friend’s face for a sign of duplicity, and to your surprise and delight, found none. “Okay...you’re telling me you ran into Roger Taylor at a club and he invited you to a party tomorrow night?”

“Yes!”

You knew you should stay home and practice this etude, but the allure of a celebrity party called you, and you knew you weren’t powerful enough to ignore the siren call of the most talented musicians rock ‘n roll had to offer.

“Roger. Taylor.” You smirked.

“Roger fucking Taylor.” Lydia grinned at you. You stared at each other, both starting to giggle at the absurdity of it all.

“I’ll go with you,” you smiled up at your friend, “though I have no idea how we are going to pick what to wear with only a day’s notice!”

“I know, right?!”

“What was he like? Roger?” You asked, making your way to the closet.

“Shameless flirt. Great style, though. He had this hat on, ugh I swear! the hat alone made me pregnant.” Lydia’s laugh gonged around the room.

“Was he alone?” You tried to sound as innocently nonchalant as possible, but Lydia knew you well enough to know what you were getting at; she never let you get away with anything. You saw the steely glint in her eyes and knew what was coming.

“Don’t you mean, ‘was a certain bassist there?’”

You instantly blushed a deep crimson, the same color as the t-shirt you were wearing. You hid your head in your hands and groaned loudly. Your head crashed onto the keys of the piano, and a clanging chord rang out sympathetically, as if your piano knew your embarrassment, too. You had a certain weak spot for John Deacon; Lydia always said the best friends had different tastes in potential partners. If you had different tastes, you’d never fight over who got someone, who saw whom first, who had a claim. In this respect, your friendship was sheer perfection.

“He wasn’t there, but Roger did say something like ‘If you come to this party, I’ll be able to show you off to the band--beauty like yours should be shared’ or something like that anyway.” She tried to sound casual.

“Roger Taylor said that to you?” You looked at Lydia, in a blouse and jeans, she was glistening. Not even a stitch of makeup on her face, and the most famous drummer in the world was smitten with her. What hope did you have of being noticed, you wondered? You frowned, looking down at the familiar keys.

Lydia read some of this in your face and sat next to you. “Y/N, you know you’re gorgeous. I know--before you start--I know you think I’m supposed to say that because I’m your friend. But you know I don’t just say things to please anyone. I’m just not made that way, I’m too honest. You’re beautiful. I know you don’t always believe it. I hope you do someday. Or at the very least, that you’d trust your best friend wouldn’t lie to you. We’ve known each other forever. You’re the most talented person I know; you never had to work hard at school, you’ve always been able to do whatever you put your mind to, you can play any instrument you pick up. You are so worth knowing and loving. That, and you’re the sneakiest person I know, with the most uncanny wit.”

“So, I have a great personality? I’m the great personality girl?” You asked, with a sarcastic smile.

“You know what I mean! I’m just a pretty face,” Lydia said, “and that’s all I’ll ever be; you have a pretty face and a brain; you’re lucky.”

This is why you kept Lydia around; she was selflessly loyal, and always knew what to say to trick you out of an emotional black hole. She didn’t think much of her mind, but only someone truly keen could weave together words into self-confidence. “Come on, let’s pick out options for tomorrow night.” You hugged her tight, and you knew she was satisfied.

***

You settled, with help, on an olive-green dress, the same color as your eyes. It wrapped around your body, highlighting your waist, and your hourglass curves. You didn’t yet understand the kind of power your body had over people; you felt out of proportion constantly, too short to have your sweet ass and flashy chest. You’d have to buy shirts that were too large, pants that were too baggy, too long because they just didn’t make close for shorter people that weren’t shaped like teenage boys. And a teenage boy, you weren’t! You had the body to prove it. You always looked a little under-tailored because of it, a little accidentally shabby. This dress, however, was a rare exception in your closet. It created a great V-neck to expose just a pleasant hint of your breasts, and did little to obscure the geography of your round ass. Your arms, you were secure with more than any other part of your body; from hours at the piano, holding your arms up, they were toned and tattooed. The sleeves of the wrap-dress covered the colorful art and words you had painstakingly chosen for yourself. You felt incognito when you hid the tattoos, like you always had a secret up your sleeve, an extra card to play, a slight mystique to add to the atmosphere most people never expected to come from a self-confessed nerd like you. You adjusted your large glasses, and reapplied your lip-gloss. Looking in the mirror you adjusted your bangs, squeezing clumps of your hair to make the natural ringlets sing. You had added to the outfit, at your instance, black spangled tights, and black heeled oxfords. Maybe a little dated, but they made you feel good, and that’s what mattered most. You checked your light makeup, glitter-blush and thin foundation was all you felt inclined to do. Lydia said she’d help you do more, but you refused; if you had to change who you were to impress someone, they weren’t worth it.

Lydia came around the corner and poked her head in the doorway, “You ready?” She was wearing a dark red dress that kissed her body to the floor. She was fully clothed but looked naked at the same time; she was a true diva and you had no idea how she did it. All silk and lush hues, she was ready to stop anyone and everyone dead in their tracks. Her hair was half up on her head in a way that looked planed and like a happy accident simultaneously. Her lips, full of daring, were lacquered cherry-red. She had a gold chain around her neck, dropping to her navel; she could have been a movie star.

You looked at yourself in the mirror again, your dress seemed demure by comparison now, and you were second-guessing everything. Was a high-low wrap dress the way to go to a Queen party? Was the color terrible? Was going at all a mistake? You twisted the large statement ring on your finger.

“Y/N?! You look stunning! Perfectly engineered to destroy any room you step into.”

You sighed, “Okay, you’re right; Let’s do this, or I never will.”

Lydia waved down a taxi. She told the driver the address Roger had given her, and off you went. The taxi sped along the night, and you wished the anticipation of arriving could last forever. The going to a party was almost as exciting as the arriving at the party itself. The feeling of possibility, of not knowing what was to come, and yet knowing anything could happen was intoxicating. You felt a shiver run up your spine. You were happy to be here with your best friend on the edge of limitless opportunities. Eventually, the taxi stopped and you paid the fee.

You and Lydia left the taxi and approached the door, and a man stood outside; he had the unmistakable air of security. He scrutinized you and Lydia. “Names?” He asked, lazily. You noticed he had list with him, and suddenly worried if you’d be allowed in or not.

“Lydia Taylor,” your friend said, not missing a beat.

The guard laughed to himself.

“Hey, wishful thinking pays off, mister.” Lydia flipped her hair, and you knew the guard was under her spell, too. “Lydia Wesmor, and I brought my friend with me. Y/N L/N,” she hooked elbows with you.

“Well, Lydia Taylor and Y/N, enjoy yourselves.” He gave you a slight smile and stepped aside.

As you and Lydia entered the vast townhouse, you saw glimpses of room after room decorated in splendor and--well, if classy ostentation exists, it somehow does in this space. High ceilings, rich window hangings, art adorned the walls, and sculptures, too many to count, and probably priceless in worth, decorated the rooms in view. Balloons and streamers cascaded floor to ceiling over a large, full bar, manned by a pleasant-looking man with a safe-looking disposition and mustache. One wall had a largest in-home aquarium you’d ever seen. One room, had large bookshelves with black and white photos on the walls. Every room you peaked snippets of had healthy plants, clearly lovingly cared for by the owner. And those were only the rooms you could see from the main one you entered into. More rooms were blocked by people, costumed and coiffed to perfection. You felt like you had stepped into a dream, and you never wanted it to end. For a brief moment you had to remind yourself this was real, and happening to you.

One room had a fantastic grand piano, and you felt your heart being pulled towards it, but you didn’t want to lose sight of Lydia, who was heading for the bar. So, you turned, and followed her, pushing past people lightly to keep pace.

“Lydia, have you ever seen a place like this? It’s like Valhalla!”

The man at the bar smiled.

“Can you speak English please, Y/N?” Lydia laughed with you; she wasn’t as well-read as you, but there was just no other way to describe this wonderful party unfolding before your eyes.

“It’s magical. Truly majestic.”

“Now, that I’ll agree to.” Lydia smiled at the man at the bar. “Could we have two appletinis and one Roger Taylor?” She added a wink.

“If I were straight, I wouldn’t even let him near you; I’d whisk you away myself.” The man said matter-of-factly.

“Ooh, you’re definitely a catch! I’m Lydia--the soon-to-be wife of Roger Taylor.”

“Does he know yet?” the man asked, mixing your drinks.

“No, but he will.”

“I’m Jim,” he grinned at Lydia, laughing at her tenacity, and then he looked at you. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Jim.”

“You’re right about the house.” He said, “We will have to give you the full tour later, as host--well, one of the hosts--it’s my duty to make sure someone as appreciative and scrumptious as you gets the full experience.” He passed you your drinks. Normally, this kind of attention made you nervous, but from Jim, it was so well-meaning, so genuine, you found yourself thinking whoever had partnered with him could only be the luckiest man on earth.

“That’d be great!” You liked Jim instantly; he was easy to talk to, kind-eyed, and, after a sip of your drink, knew he could make a killer cocktail.

“So, divide and conquer?” Lydia asked.

You felt comfortable with Jim, and knew if you wanted to pass the entire party here, chatting with him, you’d have an enjoyable time; you nodded at Lydia, “Yeah, you go on; I’ll be fine here, and I’m sure I’ll get braver with this,” you waved your cocktail in your hand like a conductor, “I’ll get brave enough to explore and mingle.”

“Okay; be safe.” Lydia pressed her hand to yours briefly, and slinked away, a woman on a mission.

You watched her go, and before you could turn back to Jim, across the room, you saw him. John Deacon.

You locked eyes with him, and just like that, you forgot how to breathe.

What you didn’t know, was that he forgot how to breathe, too.

#john deacon x reader #john deacon #freddie mercury #jim hutton #roger taylor #brian may #Queen #bohemian rhapsody #roger taylor x reader #rami malek #ben hardy #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #queen x reader

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wolvesdevour · 5 years

Text

How Not to Write Gay Stories

I’m very torn between writing two different posts and there’s a chance these may combine, so we’ll see how this goes. There are two topics that are in my mind a fair amount: gay fetishism by women authors (both in fanfic & professional writing), and how to translate fanfic writing skills to professional writing (and how it can fail). Miraculously, perhaps, the book I just read, How (Not) To Ask a Boy to Prom by SJ Goslee is a fairly good example of both of these.

The problem with addressing gay fetishism among women authors is that when is it fetishistic versus well-meaning? It’s hard for me to say why the originators of gay slash fic wrote the way they did, but its hard to miss that when fanfic especially grew prominent, over 80% of writers were women. In Star Trek fandom, the first gay slash fic was published by a woman in 1974: A Fragment Out of Time. By 1973, 90% of ST fan writers were women.

To clear the air a little: women writers can write good gay stories. One of series I am currently read, The Realm of the Elderlings by Robin Hobb, includes many gay men, some of which are centered POVs. I will not say she is a perfect author, but I deeply enjoy how she writes men. For a good portion of the series, she shows a man growing up: he starts as a young boy, and we see how the men around him teach him to be a man. A very good portion of the lessons stray away from toxic masculinity. He is still taught to be a man, and there are certain “this is a manly trait” aspects (although when she features women as forefront POV, she often includes very similar lessons: ultimately nothing is exclusive to one’s sex, but society is what it is and they may learn lessons differently or overcome different hurdles).

She addresses writing gay men in this interview: Here’s the thing - when I meet a person, their gender identity is most often not the most important thing about them. If we become friends, it’s not because my first impulse is, “I will be friends with you because you’re female.” I mean, there’s a lot of women I can’t stand. There’s a lot of men that I absolutely can spend hours talking to. There are a lot of people on the whole gender spectrum and whether I become friends with them or not has nothing to do with that, so when I am writing these characters, although in some ways gender can influence a plot - for instance, if you want the prince and the princess to get married and live happily ever after in a medieval setting, gender is going to influence that - but for the most part, gender is not much more important than who has blue eyes. What’s more important is who is a skilled navigator, who is tough enough to survive a bad situation, who can think on their feet and find the creative solution to a problem they haven’t encountered before, and that’s got nothing to do with gender. So it was not that I said, “Gee, I will write a book with gay characters.” It was, I’m writing a book, this character has stepped out onto the stage, he’s told me about him- or herself, and this is who they are. As I said: I’m not here to say that women cannot write gay stories. But there is also gay fetishism. I am both a gay man and a trans man; I get a lot of “OMG, you’ll love this!” and cis or straight people presenting me with things that appear inclusive or caring. I personally don’t find memes like “Steve Rogers is a transwoman!”** or whatever amusing. Am I, say, happy to see that Loki is canonically not straight nor cisgender? Yes. I love that. (Does that potentially make Victor von Doom not straight, uh, I like to think so.) I like reading LGBT+ stories, but a good portion of them may not interest me, especially if the writer isn’t part of that demographic and has a tendency to post a lot of art, writing, or discuss a lot of how hot, cute, or general appealing it is that a character or couple are LGBT. That creeps me out. I’m not alone. Very not alone. Absolutely not alone. Here’s another post, this time by a woman that I appreciate:

The worst thing,” one gay friend said, “is that [women in the slash community] aren’t listening to me. You’re not listening when I tell you that you’re being hurtful.”

What I find especially difficult to convey is the nuances to when women write gay men versus when men do. I’ve been trying to collect “gay stories written by gay men” although due to publishing bias, this can be very difficult: As a queer, trans reader, I looked forward to seeing myself in their pages. But I was surprised to find that some LGBTQ-focused stories were reflecting not me, but a straight person’s imagination of me. [Link 1]

The current transman story I like is seen in Early Riser by Jasper Fforde. The character utterly blindsided me in a great way: he never appeared “omg trans” until it was forced to come to light. I appreciate him as well, as a character, because in a harsh survival world, he is a man who survives well. I especially see a lot of “transmen are soft uwu such boi” and I despise this. I did not survive everything in my life to be diminished to pastels and cute/sweet and childish-boyish characteristics. Similarly, as a gay man, I am not there to be pretty, to serve as a fashion guru for straight people, to be soft and pretty and welcoming. And that’s not how gay men write themselves. This isn’t how transmen write themselves. As a writer, I struggled a lot on how to depict trans characters, and my largest lesson (and I certainly hope to published one day, but who knows) is that I never saw good examples of myself because most typically they are written by straight, cis women. So what is so wrong with Goslee’s How (Not) To Ask A Boy to Prom? (There will absolutely be spoilers.) The main character is a teen boy who has long hair, loves succulents aggressively, loves narwhals, and has no male friends. His school is supportive of gay men: a very popular football player is gay and has supportive friends, another gay teen (who becomes his boyfriend) has very supportive friends. For some reason, this gay teen is incapable to do anything for himself. He loves art, doesn’t do sports, doesn’t really connect with his foster parents, and seems overly attached to his sister. He is effectively a very flat and “soft” person. Some guys are, of course. Some gay guys are more art, less sports. But the other men? Si & Bern? They’re equally soft. Si is described as soft, beautiful, kind, sweet. He has zero personality. He is described the same way, every time, and is overly described as soft, all men are soft, it’s like they bathe in fabric softener. Bern, the “bad boy” is barely... That. He is supposed to be gruff to the main character, but for the good portion, he is like the main character (Nolan), and Si. They are all the same person, ultimately.

Bloom might be a good comparison to How (Not) To Ask a Boy to Prom. This is written by a man (Kevin Pancetta) and illustrated by a woman (Savanna Ganucheau). I don’t like the character design. Most of the gay men I showed it to asked if at one of the guys (or both) are women. But it is a story about a frustrated kid who wants to move out of his small town to Baltimore (okay: as a Marylander who grew up in a very small town and eventually moved to Baltimore, I kinda.... Get this), but meets another man who is older, but not creepily too old for him, and its a romance & vague coming of age story. If you grew up in a small city as LGBT+, it’s hard to find your sense of self. You miss out a lot on life; I think Ari reflects that: he wants to be himself. A lot of this enters into my point 2: The problem of being a fanfic writer, or the pitfalls of translating fanfic writing skills to professional writing. Nolan is not a person; he has no strong characteristics. We’re told he likes narwhals and succulents, he is a foster child, he’s gay, and I have trouble quantifying him the way I do Ari because he’s so devoid of personality. Si is probably the least developed character at all, as the “perfect, Apollo-esque gay football player.” Bern is maybe the most developed, going from gruff-mean guy to gay softy--a motorcycling math nerd. The problems with fanfic writing is that it is based on knowing characters. As fanfic writers, we don’t have to nail down reality, because there’s a whole piece devoted to who they are. We’re just filling in those blanks. The author seems to primarily be a Teen Wolf fanfic writer (her bio lists “werewolves,” but her tumblr blog is very devoted to Teen Wolf, so well). This brings up another creepy pitfall, which is beyond slash fic writing, there is the aspect of word usage. If you’ve been following my vague live-reading, I’ve been posting about the massive references to “puppy” and other trends. It is creepy to read out of context.

It seems, according to reviews, that Goslee has trouble with this in her other book, Whatever: or how junior high became totally f$@ked. She has a stream of consciousness that doesn’t explain the main character’s thoughts or the world very well. In fanfic writing, this would end up being a slow burn. “Oh, but are they really going to date?” etc. In How Not, Nolan fake-dates Bern, and googles this concept, finding fanfic works. This gets weird for me, because it’s supposed to be an inside joke, I guess? “Hey teeny nerds: fanfics” but most gay men I know have a difficult relationship with fanfic and with fan community due to fetishism. We get pressed out of spaces a fair amount because of it. (One link above, the Mary Sue one, discusses how women do this.) Of course, this is meant to be a cute, happy book, right? Alright, it’s a cute, upbeat story. Except we don’t get a very good baseline for the world. Bern & Si’s friends are supportive. We get a form of negativity from Bern’s mother, who wishes he’d date his ex-gf, I think? (Bern is bisexual.) Or maybe just date women. So is there homophobia in this world or not? We aren’t given a good sense how Nolan’s parents feel that he is gay? It seems to wholly not discuss his foster parents barring “they are aggressively competitive, Tom makes crazy food concoctions and Marla talks to him about dating Bern.” As a whole, the parents are extremely unimportant other than they provide a home and food. Are they unusual for the area? (And knowing PA, that state can have some major issues.) Or is it common in this world? Is there a reason to not hand-hold? Do they every worry about homophobia when outside school? Do the teachers say shit? There is a lot to consider. The world-building is deeply lacking. Beyond the lack of world, we get a lot of fanfic trope writing. A lot of this I’ve seen from people on my dash who are Teen Wolf fans. I used to like the show & follow TW blogs; I’m not a massive fanfic reader (*ahem* a lot of gay fetishism), but I have read it. For series like TW, you may see what I consider “animalistic tropes;” such as tackling, growling, etc. There is a lot of this. A lot of people are tackling each other to the ground, growling, and there’s this weird moment when Bern grabs the nape of Nolan’s neck that while some men do this, it felt very strange in the moment, particularly aggressively? Because the author openly admits to writing werewolf fanfic, it feels like that is what it is. For authors who write both fanfic and seek to write professionally, this is a consideration. For a gay reader, it’s really weird for a guy to grab another guy’s “nape of the neck” affectionately. (As someone who has worked around large predators, albeit primarily felids, grabbing the neck is a sexual behavior, but that just makes this weirder.) Anyways, it really struck out as weird; just very very weird. Bern is mentioned to not be into PDA (which later in the book, they do it a fair amount it seems, that is also very weird? this happens a fair amount).

Another part is that there is a lot of use of the word puppy. It is frequents so often that I’d have to stop reading because it was grossing me out. It sounds like that author is into puppy play. This isn’t to kink shame, but this is a YA novel and she writes werewolf fanfic. It starts seemingly, albeit weirdly innocuous with moments like “Bern was smooth and graceful while I was still growing out of my puppy paws” and “She tilted her head like a puppy” and “I followed him up the stairs like a puppy.” But it keeps happening. Then people start growling at each other and it just... Gets a very specific note. Mixed in with how smooth and hairless and Adonis-like the teens are written, especially by an adult woman fan, it feels... Well... It makes my skin crawl. I’m not saying that the author means to. I’m really not trying to be like ‘Hey, guys, sexual predator?” I really, really want to address that that is not my intention. My intention is that this compounds on itself. In the links about how the slash side of fandom can make gay men uncomfortable: this is the perfect example. I’ve been to events with fans and found myself, barring maybe my fiance, to be the only gay man there. If I’m shipping two characters, such as when I went to a TAZ photoshoot, and my fiance and I are the only gay cosplayers, and almost the only men period, whereas a lot of women are screaming about how cute Taako is, that gets uncomfortable. It’s not about this one fandom. It’s all fandoms. Every single one has had this fetishization problem. It’s why I never entered the Lord of the Rings fandom. I was in middle school and found “my first” fandom, only to see all of the fanfic about Sam/Frodo ships and it grossed me out. As a teen boy, it creeped me out, that all these men had to be sexual to each other, and as I only came across women shipping men, it made it more and more ostracizing. Maybe I should have addressed this earlier, but: Not all fetishization is sexual. It can be romantic, too. How (Not) to Ask a Boy to Prom’s relationships are about a teen boy who doesn’t want to date or go to prom. His sister makes him ask out Si, the big popular gay guy. Nolan/the author mocks the GSA (gay-straight alliance) club. While there are problems with some GSAs*, the author, a seemingly straight woman, is mocking an LGBT+ space. There is a chance she is bisexual; I haven’t managed to find otherwise, and that’s how this will appear to many people, as she has a husband. I will also note: a bisexual woman’s experience will differ from a gay man’s experience, and sometimes LGBT+ folks need to not speak for/over each other. Nolan ends up fake-dating Bern due to a mistake, and there’s a bit of problem I have, with how for a good portion of the book, these gay teens “need to FAKE date”. Worse to me, is that Nolan, upon realizing he likes Bern, breaks up with him and ends up sleeping (non-sexually) in a bed with his sister, deciding to go to prom together. For a straight/cis-presenting women to write this, it’s... Got a lot of different baggage to it. Especially with how idealistic (but not for gay men) she writes the characters, it gets worse and worse. It makes the gay character seem just a little less gay. His relationship with his sister is odd. It’s not “cool” to really hang out with your sister at school; I know, I had a step sister & brother. We were all roughly the same age. If these two went to prom together in the real world? They would be mocked. Also, it really makes Nolan appear not actually gay. As a gay writer, I would have him, if not go at all, go stag. The message here is: it’s better to be straight than gay and without a boyfriend. Hence how it becomes fetishistic: Nolan’s sister, both of which are older teens (around 17-18 or so) sleep together in a bed. It may not be “coded as sexual” but it is ignorant of the history that “maybe gay men can be fixed.” They even dance at prom. This is one step below asking your mother to prom. She is still his sister. It creates a narrative that he, out of the blue, dumps his boyfriend to then sleep/cuddle with his sister and they go to prom. Again, this is seen more in fanfic: we often, especially with adopted siblings, see closeness that can become romantic or sexual. I have a fair amount of friends who are adopted and this trope style is infinitely horrifying to them. It makes them feel like that society doesn’t view them as actually family. It is also a real problem: adopted family members (especially kids) have been abused by their adopted family, as if “it’s okay, they’re not actually biologically family.”

While he does eventually get back together with Bern, it’s after prom that he does this. I don’t even know why Bern accepts him. Nolan has been truly awful to this guy. Goslee doesn’t seem to understand how tenuous gay men’s statuses are. This can be held against Nolan, if not for the simple creepy fact that he sleeps and goes to prom with his sister, that he goes to prom with a woman, he may get a lot of “But are you really gay?” comments. Especially because Nolan dates only one man before going to prom with his sister (and is the one to dump his boyfriend, who he was fake-dating).

Is there more on this I could write? Yes. I probably could, but I also have to get ready to go to a movie with my fiance. So uh... Maybe there will be a part 2? We’ll see. _______ *I personally was forced out of my college’s GSA because the group was actually gay/bisexual people having orgies. So, yea, there’s some problems with certain LGBT+ spaces and being actually open to LGBT+ folks. It was also extremely transphobic and ace-phobic. **My point with this for clarification is that: I don’t want to be bribed with “lol this person is LGBT+ cuuuute!?” headcanon or otherwise. I am fine with that form of headcanoning, or AUs, but the idea of playing with gender identity and pulling it off as cute, especially by cis or straight people is skeevy and at best, ignorant, at worst, fetishistic. Link List: LGBT Exploitation in Fandom: we are not here for your entertainment

Fetishizing Homosexuality

gbpt boys’ ask about women readers of mlm stories

The Mary Sue’s On The Fetishization of Gay Men by Women in the Slash Community

Why Are So Many Gay Romances Written By Straight Women?

The Lack of Published Gay YA by Gay Authors? Let’s Talk About It

#long post #lgbt #gay issues #lgbt issues #fandom #fandom issues

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cherry3point14 · 6 years

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Dean Winchester definitely isn't in love, so don't ask him about it

DESCRIPTION: All the times that Dean definitely didn’t have any feelings for you and totally wasn’t pining away like a lovesick puppy, so if everyone could shut up about it that’d be great.

THIS IS A ONESHOT AS PART OF THE ALONE SERIES, WHICH YOU CAN READ HERE OR HERE (AO3), I HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU READ THIS AFTER THAT FIC AS THIS IS AS ADD ON TO THAT STORY.

[A collection of Dean POV drabbles glued together to make a oneshot of how Dean fell in love with you (in the multi-chap fic Alone). Ranging from S9 E5 up to S10 E12. Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader. Warnings: MOC!Dean and mentions of Demon!Dean. 14 Year old Dean cannot control his body.]

AO3 link here if you would prefer.

The first time he sees you

The first time Dean sees you he thinks you're dead. He gets that familiar churn in his chest, guilt at having lost another one. You make three. They'd already found two dead girls downstairs so you, hanging there lifeless, makes three dead girls.

If only they'd have got here sooner but they weren't exactly scouring missing person reports while the Wicked Witch of the West was loose in the bunker. He knows sometimes they miss some, but it doesn't make it any easier and like every other time, he's still taking it personally. Three dead girls because of one bloodsucking Djinn, and him not getting there fast enough. The Djinn he can kill, it's harder to forgive himself.

Suddenly he wishes he'd twisted that knife into the son of a bitches heart a little deeper.

Course, that is before they actually get to you and your eyes flutter open. You look like you don't have blood left in you but somehow, you're still kicking. And just like that, he thinks he's going to get to save one as he tells Sam to cut you down. That'll do for today, just let him save one of you and maybe he'll be able to sleep tonight.

Then you talk. He's about to tell you not too, you're weak right now and you shouldn't be talking but you ask about the other one. Dean prepares to tell you about monsters being real and these ones in particular. Djinn are lonely cave dwellers. They live alone.

He never gets a chance before you grab the knife from Sam and shove Dean out of the way, with strength you shouldn't have after being drained of your blood for God knows how long. He doesn't even finish blinking and you've killed the Djinn who'd been lurking behind him and saved his ass instead.

And when he asks if you're a hunter you basically call him an idiot.

Somehow, Dean knows you'll be ok.

The first time you leave

Dean hadn't liked the idea of leaving you with Kevin at first. Sam had been insistent since you were in pretty bad shape after the Djinn and Dean could admit you did kind of save their lives right after they saved yours. But Kevin was family, Dean was just being careful.

You making fun of him down the phone hadn't really improved his opinion of you, he'd been really excited to see the squirrel.

It's when they get back to the bunker, and Dean still swears he's got an itch behind his ear, that he changes his mind about you.

Because Kevin—won't take breaks because he wants everything to be over and still mourning his mother—is running around the bunker playing hide and seek. Dean doesn't think he's ever seen the kid look like he's having so much fun. When Sam clears his throat to get Kevin's attention he looks embarrassed, but he still animatedly talks about the afternoon you've both spent playing cards and board games. He claims he only started because you were annoying him while you were bored, but then he's talking about his strategy in Monopoly that should have worked so maybe you'd cheated.

Damn. Dean kind of super fucking appreciates you making this kid take the day off because Kevin suddenly reminds him of the kid they first picked up all that time ago. The innocent kid from advanced placement before heaven and hell were after him.

Although with his track record Dean should have known that the fun was never going to last.

He's never really heard something as loud as your scream and he's heard angels talk. He knows that might be a slight exaggeration, but it is goddam frightening when you're screaming so loud about finding Crowley.

Somehow, it's even worse when you leave quietly.

He takes you back to your car because he's not a dick. If you want to leave he's not going to try and stop you. Doing the sensitive thing is Sam's gig.

He's just glad when you stop crying on the journey because crying chicks are definitely not his rodeo. Not unless he's saving them anyway.

And despite your freak out, you don't seem like you need saving.

He's horrified when he sees what you consider a car. It's one of those things that's more computer than engine and you try to sell him on the heated seats. Of course, he can't show you that he's actually intrigued by that, not with Baby right there. His hand rests on her hood while he watches you get in your truck and spend a moment appreciating it before you come back.

He doesn’t understand what there is to appreciate but he doesn’t say anything more about it.

He makes you leave with his number and a promise to check-in, not before you insist he checks in with you.

Maybe he can manage that.

The first time you text

He's sitting in the car after having watched Cas go into his date when his phone goes off.

Breaking News. Bieber has been arrested. How are the pretty boys of America dealing with this crisis?

Dean can't help but smile at the screen. He hasn't heard from you since he drove away leaving you with your transformer truck and this is the first thing you text him?

No comment. And you've gotta keep my membership a secret.

He throws his phone down on the seat next to him and drives off hearing it buzz while he's on the road. He's smirking at the sound when the Sheriff calls and he changes direction to head to the station instead.

It's not until Cas is sliding out of the passenger seat the next morning, after his adventures in babysitting and Dean's own continuing adventures in angel killing, that he looks at the message you'd sent back the previous night.

A secret? Oh, you poor pretty dummy. It's true what they say, brains or brawn. Can't have it all.

Dean doesn't type back and instead opts to drive back to the bunker first. When he gets there Sam is, as ever, reading something that looks like the most boring book they own. And they have a whole library of boring.

He snaps a picture of Sam and sends it back with a caption.

This is what brains look like in its natural habitat. There's no case, he is choosing to do this for fun.

He sits down opposite Sam waiting for the reply, which only takes a minute.

What a nerd. I'll take a pretty face any day of the week.

He only realizes how much he's grinning when he hears Sam's voice, "what are you so happy about? How did it go with Cas?"

The first time he doesn't tell you something

He doesn't like watching Crowley walk up the stairs and out of sight. It makes his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch like they're missing a weapon. Too many times has he fallen into a pattern of working with Crowley and usually the outcome is the same, bad. But really what the hell is he supposed to do? He needs to find Sam and the angel currently taking his brother for a joy ride. He needs to focus on the person he can still save.

His brain is about to dwell on Kevin again when his phone vibrates in his pocket, like an electric shock, and your name flashes on the screen.

When he opens it there's a picture. You're holding your phone up for a selfie that encompasses your face and the table in front of you. Your free hand is lifting a fry from the plate of chili fries below, but it's still attached by stringy cheese and blobs of meat while your face is frozen in some over the top look of pleasure. Eyes rolling in the back of your head and tongue hanging out of your mouth. Underneath is a caption.

Better than sex.

He really tried to resist but the corners of his lips curl upwards for the briefest of seconds. It's a momentary reminder that everything isn't fire and brimstone and dick angels. But it's also a reminder he doesn't deserve. He slips his phone back into his pocket without replying and flushes that small spark of joy from his system.

The one thing he's grateful for is neither of you talks about the deep shit because he doesn't think he can bear to tell another person about Kevin. Even the idea of telling you, who only knew him for all of a few days, is too much anguish for Dean to consider. He buries that shit. He tells himself it's not something you do over text anyway and he can't call you from a CIA outpost either.

Then when Crowley returns with news of Baby he's back behind the wheel of the pimpmobile. He's got a brother to save and a mission.

The first time you don't text back

Dean is consumed by a lot of things. Guilt is probably the main one but, in fairness, he has a lot to feel guilty about. Anger is another. Before the mark, he could focus his anger, use it to sharpen his senses, make him a better hunter but now? With the mark slowly draining the things that make him Dean it's only the anger that remains. An unrestricted fury that swallows him whole sometimes.

Since he touched the first blade though, since he took a life with it, something else lights him up like the sky on 4th July. Need. Hunger. To hold the blade again and never let go. To kill with it.

It's getting harder to fight the more he tries to. Every minute that passes he can feel the power surge up his arm like he's still holding it.

So, it's a relief to be distracted. He's mostly been distracting himself with his faithful friend, drink. She's comforting and safe and takes the edge off, if only temporarily.

The last few days there's been another, not necessarily good distraction, that he's been clinging to so tightly he's becoming stalker level obsessive but screw it, he's worried.

Sometimes you've made him wait a day for a reply, he assumes you're on a hunt, but it's been three days now with nothing. He's tried starting one of your casual arguments or sending you a joke about Sam being too tall to tie his own shoes, but nothing. Radio silence.

The concern is enough for him to break down and finally send you a message that straight up tells you he's worried.

Not heard from you in a few days, check-in at some point, ok?

He'd hoped it would be enough to force a reply if you knew he was serious. But he finds himself swirling his scotch in one hand and thumbing through his unanswered message history in the other. Which is looking one-sided and excessive on his part.

Then Crowley shows up. Dean barely resists punching the demon in the face and he only manages that since the bottom feeder has the blade and that's the only way to kill Abaddon. Dean does allow himself a huff and eye roll combo though, "you're like a bad case of the clap, every time I think you're gone you pop up again."

"Always the charmer." Is all the king of hell replies as Dean escapes to the pool table.

What follows is a few hours of annoyance. Trying to ignore the demon who is so intent on not being ignored, until finally Dean is saving Crowley from a low-level wannabe bad guy and burying all thoughts of you in favor of the thing he really needs to do. Kill Abaddon.

He guesses putting aside his worry is just one more thing to feel guilty about.

The second time you almost die on him

He hadn't realized how bothered he was about not hearing from you, now for four weeks and six days, until he's leaving the penthouse where he's just killed carrot top.

There's a lot of things he's repressed. It's a damn hobby of his. Dean Winchester hasn't had a good day if he hasn't swallowed a complicated emotion and washed it down with a whiskey chaser. Some come back to haunt him, some stay where he keeps them, mostly.

Not often do they come back as quickly as his concern for you.

He swears he tried to sleep when they got back to the bunker, but it was pointless. He had a case to work, the case just happened to be you.

One plus side of the mark of Cain? Better than any caffeine buzz when he needed to be focused. It's just that increasingly the focus becomes violent or murder-y.

He checks the GPS on your car but it's static at some motel in Columbus. The address gets written down anyway, just in case, but if something happened to you he doubts they took you in your own truck. Then he checks in with a few hunters that he figures might be mutual acquaintances and the ones that are haven't heard from you either. It's when Sam wanders in that he tracks your phone and sees it hasn't had a ping in over a month.

Or about four weeks and six days, give or take.

It's a few miles from the motel your ridiculous red truck is sitting at and it's as good a place as any to start.

He's only half-aware he's been having a conversation with Sam the whole time.

Dean can feel the tension in his body as he drives, accompanied by that heavy, sickly feeling of anticipation he gets when he's on a hunt. The one that sits in his gut when he's trying to save someone.

Who knows, maybe you're fine. Maybe you've shacked up with a Townie and you've spent the last four weeks living carefree.

He knows that's not what's happened.

From the outside, the building looks like a piss poor version of every bad guy's lair ever. It's a few miles out of town against a lonely highway and looks about ten minutes away from crumbling under its own weight.

Sam tries to suggest scoping out the place before going in hot, but Dean shakes his head to end that train of thought before it starts. He doesn't care what's in there. With the blade tucked in the back of his jeans, he feels invincible but it's more than that. It's the familiar anger emanating from the mark. The vengeful fury that he can't control when his emotions are already running so high.

After all, he's already wasted four weeks and six days, give or take.

They kick down the main doors together, guns raised, but only his door splinters away from its hinges. His boots pound the concrete and he's ready for a fight, he needs a fight.

Except there are only two other people in the room. There's a woman standing over a table with something sharp in her hand and there's this other person. Chained to said table and as he gets closer, shouting for the stranger to get back, he sees the prisoners face.

Your face.

He's about to shoot the woman standing a few feet in front of him, with utter boredom on her face, but she flashes black eyes. It'd be easy to say that he's doing it for you, that shooting isn't good enough for this bitch who's been keeping you here. But as his fingers wrap around the hilt of the first blade forging a connection between the mark and the blade and his unfettered bloodlust, it's not about anything except the pure joy that he gets as he drives it into her chest.

Her death flashes in his eyes as he stands steadfast, watching the demon become nothing but an empty, dead shell.

It's the voice he hasn't heard in months that pulls him back from the murderous haze. A quiet and broken whisper and then sobs. He turns his whole body in the direction of those sounds and takes in the sight of you. Mangled and bleeding. Some parts of you so bruised that he can't imagine what was done to cause it. The blade slips from his hand like he's scared the sight of it is going to frighten you.

The same hand that had held it, the same hand that had killed this Demon, curls into the ends of your hair while you cry. He wants to hold you, but he doesn't want to break you any more than you already are so this is all he can think to do. Shushing noises and his fingers tangled in the knots on your head.

This time he's not so sure you're going to be ok.

The first time he doesn't text you back

He sent the message before he summoned Crowley. It does nothing to ease how shitty he feels about this to you.

He can feel his phone buzzing continuously in his back pocket, you must be calling, when Crowley arrives with a complaint on his lips.

All throughout the conversation, while Crowley spouts out his knowledge of the mark, that it's controlling him now and he'll die if he doesn't kill, the image of you bloody and broken is in the back of his head.

"And you're gonna help me."

Crowley actually looks interested, "and why am I going to do that?"

"Because I haven't killed you yet for what you did to her."

Crowley isn't stupid enough to laugh in Deans's face like he normally would, but he doesn't hold back the bite in his retort. "Oh squirrel. So sensitive still. Y/N got what was coming to her. Besides, what's to stop you killing me once you've got the blade and a full dose from the mark?"

Dean lets out a sigh. He's fighting the part of him that's still telling him not to do this.

"Because I want to gut Metatron more than I want you dead."

Crowley smiles. After a brief reprieve, Dean’s phone starts buzzing again. He takes it out only to turn it off before he nods and escapes with Crowley in tow.

The first time you don't say goodbye

He hasn't left his room since Cas left. He's been clawing at the inside of his head trying to piece things together but it's all half stories and half actual memories. And somehow karaoke remains.

So, Dean does what he does best. His reflex. He goes to grab a beer.

"Hunting felt like the thing I'd always been missing but my sister was going to have a career and kids and everything she ever wanted. I was going to make sure of it."

Your voice is quiet but not so quiet that it doesn't fill the library, the room acting like a huge echo chamber. He stops dead. Neither Cas or Sam had mentioned you were here but hearing your voice brings back bits and pieces. Enough that he can still remember what your neck felt like in his hand and the look in your eyes as you passed out after he'd smashed your head into a wall.

He stands there listening to you pour your heart out to Sam. You sister had been one of Azazel's, you'd burned them all and you couldn't find a way to bring your sister back.

Something flashes in his head. What you'd cried out in that warehouse. He'd never thought to ask you about it before they'd left you at that hospital but now it makes sense. Your sister had been a demon, a demon who tortured you, and he'd killed her.

Dean wants to jump out of the shadow he's hiding in when you blame yourself again. He doesn't. He's stopped in place when you say his name. Apparently, he knows something. What did he know?

He's trying to remember when he hears Sam.

"So, you're not even going to say goodbye to him? You're just going to run away?"

A lump forms in Dean's throat. You were leaving because of something he knew but he couldn't remember. Maybe he could stop you.

He doesn't.

Because the thing he does know is that you deserve a chance to get away and go back to your old life. Hunting monsters without the big bad and without him. Dean's life has too many complications and you deserve to get out of that.

He nearly killed you and he nearly killed his brother. Sam wouldn't give up that easy but you? He could let you go.

The first time you come back

The rain is battering the outside of the bunker but it's quiet inside. Sam is gone and Dean is buried in a book looking for a thread of hope and finding none.

It's been quiet in the bunker for days. Since Charlie. Since what he did to Charlie.

But rain isn't loud enough to hide the pounding on the door, or the voice he hears as he's climbing the stairs.

"Strippergram, open up!"

He almost falters, almost trips over his own feet but somehow, he rights himself. His heart beating faster than necessary and his palms a little sweaty for his liking.

You're alive and, more than that, you're here.

As soon as he sees you it's like you haven't spent two months off the map. You're soaked, your clothes cling to every curve of your body in the rain, making you look fucking beautiful. Even if your loose hair is stuck to your forehead and you shiver in the cold.

For a while, it's like none of it happened. Him becoming a demon and running off with Crowley. You leaving without a goodbye. All erased while you stand there being idiots and trading jokes. For a few minutes even, the things he's done because of the mark get cast into the back of his mind.

Then you limp.

He's in the middle of explaining why 'Pour Some Sugar on Me' is one of the top three stripper songs of all time when his words stop. You're leaning on your right leg, right arm on the banister with an iron grip and you're dragging your left leg the rest of the way, down each step. While you don't seem to be about to immediately drop dead he's still concerned.

Of course, he had no idea what kind of injury you were going to admit to.

He shouldn't laugh. You got shot. But worrying takes a backseat when you tell him where you got shot. He's even grinning to himself as he gets the supplies needed to patch you up.

It's only when he opens the door to find you casually lying on the bed, ass up, that he doesn't find it so funny anymore. In fact, he tells you as much when you decide to slap your good ass cheek and make another joke.

He has to bite back a groan watching that.

He sinks into a comfortable position once he's concentrating on getting the bullet out of you. Then he can focus on the task in front of him and forget about your shapely, bare legs that look endless from this angle. It's not your ass he's touching with careful grazes and patient fingers, it's just a wound that he's fixing. Doesn't matter where it is.

That works fine until he puts a fresh bandage on and you immediately start trying to roll off the bed in your half-naked state.

He doesn't need to be told twice when you tell him to leave. He's just grateful that he manages to do it, honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he'd been unable to move because of the situation in his pants.

Thankfully you take a while to catch up with him, now in clean and dry clothes. And for some reason, he remembers what you said to Sam, not him, the day you left. About that always being your room and there's a warmth in his chest that you were actually telling the truth. You left clothes there, in your room.

His smile only gets wider when you ask about Sam. You've been here as long as you have and not noticed Sam is missing. He tells himself that it doesn’t mean anything but, what if it did?

He hadn't even thought about going back to his room and trying to read more lore. It hadn't crossed his mind once. Instead, he'd venomously defended his TV choices and made you a grilled cheese so that you could both drink the hard stuff. He wasn't sure when you last ate.

It's when you've both finally agreed to watch an old movie, although he doesn't remember which one, that you start drifting. He watches it out the corner of his eyes.

Your eyelids start getting too heavy for you to keep them open although you desperately try. You curl onto your side to get more comfortable and stretch your legs out before you realize your feet land in his lap and you quickly retract them. Not that he'd mind but he's past the point of using words as he watches you like a nature documentary.

Finally, when your eyes close this big, deep breath falls out of you and it seems to take away the last of your resistance because then your chest starts that gentle up and down of sleep. It only takes a few minutes before he decides to put you in bed since you start fidgeting for not having enough space and it bugs him.

That's definitely the reason he scoops you into his arms as gently as possible and takes his time slowly carrying you to your room.

Although when he gets you there it presents another problem. You keep trying to roll onto your back, which causes you to disturb your bullet wound, which makes you whimper and almost wake up. So, he stands there for a few minutes nudging you back onto your front, not because the noise you make when you almost wake up is the most helpless thing he's ever heard, but because you probably need your sleep.

It's how he ends up sitting in the chair and watching you. Not in a creepy sparkly vampire way but to make sure you don't rollover.

When you finally seem settled, by the fact that you're now sprawled out on your stomach making happy mumble sounds into your pillow, his own eyes get too heavy to keep open.

He definitely didn't wait till you were comfortable before he lets himself fall asleep. He wasn't tired until now is all.

The first time you wake him up

He doesn't know what time it is or how long he was out but he does know that your hand is on his shoulder when he wakes up.

Dean cracks his eyes open and looks up at you, noticing how you smile when you call him 'dummy' and the way your eyes seem to sparkle when you mention pancakes. The happiness is so obvious that it's all he can manage to repeat it back, to make sure he was hearing you properly.

"Pancakes?"

You tell him to lie down and that's when he notices the ache in his back from sleeping propped up in this chair. He doesn't have time to tell you that you were right about it though because you wander off, presumably for the love of pancakes.

He stands up and stretches. It takes care of his back enough that he doesn't feel the need to lie down like he was told to and, with the promise of breakfast, he's done with sleep now. He notices the practically empty whiskey bottle as he slowly trudges his way to the kitchen and groans to himself.

Then he hears Sam in the kitchen. Dean hadn't realized he was back but he sure as shit could hear him talking to you. Sam was telling you about the mark, how it had gotten worse and Dean didn't need to see your face to hear the concern in your voice.

It's too early for him to control the anger in his veins as he asks to speak to Sam privately.

"Dean, what the hell? I can't get you out of your room, but Y/N shows up and you're watching TV and hanging out?" If Dean didn't know any better he'd think his little brother was jealous.

"What are you doing telling her how bad I've been?"

Sam's eyes appear to bug out of his head momentarily, "what like it's a secret now? She knows you have the mark, what's the problem telling her that you've been struggling? You have!"

Dean runs a hand down his face but it doesn't stop the words tumbling out, "because I don't want her to be afraid of me."

He doesn't know why but Sam stares dumbly like he's trying to work something out and in true annoying little brother fashion he steamrolls ahead with his assumptions once they are made. "If you feel like that about her why don't you… I mean I'd be ok with you asking her to stay, especially if it helps."

Dean feels warm on the back of his neck, but he furiously ignores it, "I don't know what you're talking about Sammy."

"What you mean the fact that last night was the first time in forever that you've slept more than an hour or hung out without some lore? Dude why don't you just ask her, as a friend even?"

This time his fist clenches and he struggles to release it. His voice is louder and more frustrated than he intended, "would you shut up I'm not asking."

Sam is doing his dumb puppy dog eyes now in an attempt to be convincing and understanding all at once, "But what if it makes a difference Dean. I mean she clearly-"

Dean pushes his index finger into Sam's chest, cutting him off with a glare, "You keep your mouth shut."

He has to walk away after that and not just because he can feel the pink on his ears. It's probably anger anyway, at Sam for butting in.

And then he trudges into the kitchen and you're flipping pancakes with a little sway in your hips as you do like there's a song in your head that he can't hear.

It's not weird that he wants to know what the song is.

The first time he fights with you

You somehow sneak into the room without him noticing. Maybe it's the fact that he's retreated back into his favorite new hobby, looking up mark lore, or maybe you're just sneaky.

When you ask about that text message he wishes he had more time. Even though he's been expecting this question since he sent it. There were so many things he's sorry for. He's sorry for calling Crowley in the first place, he's sorry for getting himself killed by Metatron, and turned into a demon. He's really fucking sorry about what he did as a demon but mostly he's sorry for what happened to you in the first place. He goes with his practiced answer though.

"That was when I started working with Crowley. He had the first blade and it was the only way I could kill Metatron. But after what he did to you, I thought…"

"You thought you owed me an apology for trying to save the world?"

How were you so understanding about this? He saw what had been done to you, or at least the after effects, the rest he can only imagine. And yet you were so quick to forgive him that he wonders if you were even mad at him for his adventures with the king of hell.

Then you have to go and ask about his argument with Sam at breakfast.

You keep asking and asking, a question for every answer that comes out of his mouth. And he jumps away from you because you're too close, but you follow him anyway.

He doesn't want to talk about it, if he was going to ask you to stay he wants it to be different. He doesn't want it to be because of the mark or his screwed-up life.

Except translating those emotions to the mark is something different entirely. All it knows is that he's getting agitated, which leads to violence, which leads to the resentments he buried down deep about you leaving flying from his mouth before he can stop them.

He knows he's already too far gone but it's so easy to push your buttons, you haven't seen him at his worst, so you don't know what he's capable of, so you fight back. You argue. You challenge him until he says it.

"No worries honey. I didn't cry myself to sleep or anything. With your track record, I think I dodged a bullet."

When you answer him with, "go fuck yourself, Dean," he wants to stop. He wants to pull back and apologize. Just the way you say his name is enough to make his chest constrict.

But that's not what the mark wants. The mark wants him to have the last word, so he follows you as you leave.

He should have just let you go.

Sam shows up at the worst possible time and you tell him that you’re staying. Dean knows it's only to spite him for everything he's said but in some twisted way he's got exactly what he wanted. He can calm down now, right?

"LIKE HELL ARE YOU STAYING, I WANT YOU OUT!"

He roars it against her own battle cry but both of you end the same way. Trying to stare at each other until one of you spontaneously combusts.

Neither of you do.

Dean has no idea how but eventually he tears himself away. He shoots daggers at you one more time before he retreats to his room, and with a slam of the door, he hears you do the same.

So much for that.

The second time he goes through puberty

He's sitting on a bus. A goddamn bus.

He had to leave Tina there alone and he is sitting on a bus. In a hoodie. Looking like Bieber.

Dean really didn't want to play into the teenage stereotype, but this seemed totally unfair.

He's about ten minutes into the journey when he closes his eyes. Just for a minute. He hasn't slept in what feels like days and the rumble of the bloated bus engine lulls him to sleep.

It's been a while since Dean had a dream, in fact, he hasn't since well before he got the mark. Maybe not being able to dream another side effect nobody writes in the lore books.

But he's in his teenage body now so with no mark it's Dreamtown USA, population Dean Winchester.

At first, the weirdest thing about the dream is that he's an adult, like he had been a few hours ago. It's simple enough. He's in the bunker, cleaning his gun except he's butt naked. Feet crossed on the table while he leans back in his chair but naked. And he thinks it's hilarious, he's laughing and making a plan to get Sam to sit in his chair for dinner. This goes on for a while until the bunker door opens and closes and he looks up to see you there. Dressed like a pizza delivery girl. But in roller-skates that you somehow use to get down the stairs without breaking your neck.

Dream Dean seems to have no issues with the fact that he's naked, or that the pizza delivery girl, you, let yourself in. He's mainly concerned about the pizza.

"Delivery for Mr. Dick Hertz," your voice is a sultry tone as if you're trying to be a porn star. He laughs at the name thinking his joke hilarious, but your mouth falls open in shock when you realize what you just said. "Oh no, is it true? Does your dick… hurt?"

You're moving towards him now like you're floating, although, it's probably the skates, and you toss the pizza box to the table carelessly. As you reach him the baseball cap on your head is thrown away too and your hair falls around your face in bouncy pornstar curls. "Because if it does hurt, I'm sure I can help with that."

Dean sits forward now, the front legs of his chair slamming against the floor and he sits up straight. His hands reach out for you and pull you forward so you're straddling him on the chair, while he's still naked. "I'm sure you can, sweetheart," he says smiling up at you as his fingers skin the hem of your tee, dragging it up your body. You bend your arms and duck your head letting him throw the offending item over his shoulder, leaving you topless because, of course, you're not wearing a bra.

He grins as he leans himself forward, pressing his lips to the skin of your chest, while you giggle. It's only a moment later that you push him back and lean into his face, your lips so close to his he can almost taste them.

"If I'm going to help you, I'm going to need to finish getting out of these clothes first," you whisper before you close the gap, crashing your mouth into his.

"Hey kid, wake up!"

Dean sits up abruptly. A teenager again, on a bus, in a hoodie. He blinks to adjust his eyes to the light when he sees some old guy shouting at him, "the driver said this is your stop kid."

It's only as he stands up that he feels something wet. It's a strange experience because it's a feeling he remembers only consciously having twice before in his life. And both times he was, shockingly, a teenager.

"You've got to be freaking kidding me."

The first time he kisses you

Dean is enjoying the ride home like any other time he's been kept apart from Baby. His full focus is on how she's driving and if that's a smudge on her hood or an actual dent.

He's so engrossed with the sound of her engine that he doesn't really listen to Sam much. Dean will tell him later and Sam will get annoyed, but Dean knows he'll repeat all of it anyway.

Or at least he wasn't listening until Sam said it.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, I spoke to Y/N this morning and told her we're on our way back. She asked about us grabbing some dinner because, and I quote, 'she's not our maid'."

"What?" Dean asked suddenly very interested in every word his brother said.

"Well ok there was more than that, she went on about if we wanted a maid then we'd need to find a non-kinky one online, but I don't remember the whole thing word for word."

He can't believe his brother is as smart as he is and thinks the part that Dean wanted repeating was the maid thing. "Wait, so you're saying she's still at the bunker?"

Sam seems to catch on because he twists in his seat to look at Dean better with a smirk on his dumb face, "yes Dean, I'm saying she's still there. Like she said she would be."

Baby was used to sudden increases in speed but even this one made her jolt a little as Dean's foot hits the floor.

"Dean, what the hell? Is this about your, ahem, dream?"

He already regrets telling Sam about that but when he'd had to rush to the bathroom after arriving at the motel, Sam had forced the information out of him.

"Shut up Sammy," was Dean's eloquent response when, in fact, it was about the dream.

He'd been so sure that you would have left. After the fight, the way you'd both screamed at each other, more importantly, the things he'd said. You'd left before for a lot less. So, yeah, he'd been sure. He'd been expecting to come home to an empty bunker if he was lucky a note that didn't directly blame him even if it was his fault.

But you were still there. You'd stayed. He had no idea why you'd stayed but you had, and he wanted to be there ten minutes ago already, but Baby can only go so fast.

Denial was getting harder to maintain with the way he needed to be there already, the way his heart thumped in his chest or the fucking butterflies in his stomach. A man with the mark of Cain on his arm shouldn't be feeling butterflies in his gut, but here Dean is anyway. Maybe he wasn't ready to put words onto his feelings but fuck, if all he wanted to do was kiss you.

Sam wisely doesn't interrupt his daydreams for the rest of the way, he doesn't even mention that they haven't stopped for food.

When the bunker is in sight you're outside and Dean still doesn't believe it.

You’re really there. You really stayed.

You're in this outfit, God help him, it's cut-off jeans and t-shirt that is sticking to your skin on account of you cleaning your truck. He pulls up and throws Baby into park—he'll apologize for being so rough with her later—and as he slams the door you're offering to clean Baby later to make amends for raiding his car supplies.

Surely you couldn't have been this perfect the whole goddamn time.

Well, not perfect, considering your choice of wheels.

He's by your side before you really finish the question. He's close enough that you have to stand up to full height and he can't help taking a second to look at you. Your hair is pulled onto the top of your head and there's a smudge of something on your cheek, your eyes are wide with oblivious innocence right until the last second before he kisses you.

In his dumb teenage dream, kissing you made him jizz in his pants, but this is even better. This is real. Plus he manages to control himself.

Your lips are full and soft and frozen for a split second until he runs his tongue over them. You taste like syrup and coffee and your mouth is warmer than his somehow. When you kiss him back his thumb rubs encouraging circles over your cheek, not that you need encouraging because you kiss him fiercely. You kiss him like you argue, with your entire soul.

When you can't breathe anymore, and you pull back, he tells you you're staying. And when you try to start a lecture, which he knows will be about not telling you what to do, he kisses you again.

Only partly to shut you up, mostly because once he's started he doesn't know how to stop.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #spn #spn reader insert #spn x reader #spn fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x y/n #guess who's back #back again #my gif

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bugheadfamily · 6 years

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Bughead Family Discord Member Spotlight

This Halloween week the spotlight is on our spooky admin, Tori ( @tory-b )! Click the read more link below to get to know our member!

Spotlight by Mila, @jughead-jones | Graphic by Katie, @betty-cooper

Tori | @tory-b

Name: Tory or Tori

Age: 21 (but only for a few more months!)

Location: Western US

Any other languages aside from English people can contact you in?: I can read basic Japanese and German. I won’t be able to communicate well but I have like some understanding. (I’m just really bad at languages I’m sorry universe, i want to be good at them)

Favourite Riverdale characters and ships?: BUGHEAD! Jughead Jone is my son, I love that boy. But I’m also a big Archie girl you know? Like just in the ‘he is my big dumb son and he just needs to be protected at all costs.’ I’d probably kill for a Jarchie person.

Favourite moments from S1 & S2?: There are so many it makes it hard to choose from you know? But S1: the iconic “hey there, Juliet, nurse off duty” is just like…so cheesy and soft it makes it hard to not just be utterly in love with that big dork. S2: When Archie cuts Jughead’s chains in front of the building, and they have that shot where the chains are falling away and he looks just like a fucking mythical fallen angel. That moment is so powerful between the boys, but it’s also just such a beautiful image on screen. Like Riverdale’s cinematography is eh on the best of days but in that moment like wow just absolutely WOW

What are your hopes for S3?: All my hopes and dreams look like they’re coming true and I could cry. Betty has a therapist! Bughead is investigating! Josie is getting more SCREEN TIME. I really do want more Cheryl/Betty friendship moments but I’m not sure if we’ll get them. I’d also love a Jug/Cheryl friendship moment. Also if we could get our Jarchie kiss.

Other fandoms you’re into?: I was in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom for a little while, and the Voltron fandom for some time after that. I just kind of commit to like one fandom or I’ll be dead.

What are some of your favourite movies/TV?: My other go-to show right now (I’ve been rewatching) is RuPaul’s Drag Race because I’m Reality TV Trash. My favorite movie is tricky. I always tell my mom that I don’t watch many movies because I like that TV can show longer more complex plots than movies.

Favourite books?: Fever 1793 was my favorite growing up and sometimes I’ll still read through and cry like a fucking baby even though I know how it goes. I love historical fiction. BUT my absolute FAVORITE book is Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky.

Favourite bands/musicians?: It is I, your friendly admin hipster who has a lot of vinyl, and my fave bands are Panic! At the Disco, Walk the Moon, and the 1975. Also I listen to an absurd amount of broadway musicals because I’m a theatre nerd through and through.

If you could live in any fictional world which one would you choose and why?: I was gonna say Riverdale but I don’t want to chances of me getting murdered to jump up to an absurd amount. I’m small and meek I’d die like Midge. Maybe the Miraculous Ladybug’s Paris because it’s soft and even if I get turned into a bad guy no one hates me and I get a cool costume.

Favourite food?: Strawberries! Specifically Strawberry Shortcake but anything with strawberries on it.

Favourite season?: Winter or Fall! Spring is amazing but it makes me sneeze because allergies.

Favourite plant?: Sunflowers!

Favourite scent?: Lime! It’s clean and fresh.

Favourite colour?: Pastels. Pink, blue, yellow!

Favourite animal?: Doggos! (I’d say cats but i’m terribly allergic to cats even though I love them).

Are you a night owl, an early bird, or a vampire?: My sleep schedule is garbage. I am a night owl who works early morning shifts and is forced to be an early bird.

Place you want to visit?: I want to visit more of europe, specifically France, see more of England, and very much Japan!

Do you have pets? If you do, tell us a little about them: I do have pets! I’ve got my sweet little Poppy. She’s a rescue mutt who I got on my 13th birthday. She’s probably 11-12 right now but none of us have an idea. She’s so soft and beautiful but she is absolutely a little bitch. I go to college so whenever I come home for holidays, she stares at me like I’ve just utterly offended her and turns away. She’s a Princess who is utterly spoiled.

Tell us a little about yourself?: Oh gosh. I’m not sure what to say in this really. I’m graduating a semester early with a double major in Psychology and Anthropology, which I think is really cool, even though I have no idea what I’m going to do with that frankly. I moved a lot growing up because my mom can’t stay still. I’ve got this skin condition called vitiligo so lots of my body doesn’t have pigment!

Fun or weird fact about you?: I can’t properly scowl. Like bring my eyebrows together. I have no idea why.

Asks for fanfic authors:

How long have you been writing?: Oh gosh. So I’ve been writing in notebooks since I was like 5, but I posted my first ever fanfiction (did you mean that Harry Potter fic I posted that I like to ignore?) when I was 10 or 11? I quit writing publicly from about 12 until…I was like 20?

Which is your favourite of the fics you’ve written?: One Last Chance. It was 12k of really just emotional catharsis. I cried while writing it and it just felt so good to write it. Whenever I read it I just smile because I think ‘wow i can’t believe I’m the person who wrote this’.

Favourite fic/chapter/plot-point/character you’ve ever written?: The plot points in What Happened on Elm Street are my favorite because they’re so twisty and turny!

Which was the hardest to write, and why?: What Happened on Elm Street is very difficult to write for me. It’s super complex and I can only give away a little at a time to keep some of the mystery in it. So I have to think a lot for each word I write.

How do you come up with the ideas for you fic(s)? (examples: Do you draw inspiration from real life? Listen to music? Get inspired by TV/movies?) Do you have an process to your writing?: It’s a combination of everything! It’s real life in some ways, like my college experiences, or with songs, like my oneshot I Hate Love Songs! It all depends. Sometimes it just comes to me, like I’ll be watching a movie and I go ‘yes!’.

Idea that you always wanted to write?: A Zombie Apocalypse AU. SO BADLY. But I don’t think it would be very popular, so I always sort of hang back and don’t write it even though I kind of have the first chapter of a WIP written for it. I just love that kind of angst and fear.

Favourite character to write?: Cheryl fucking Blossom. She is just…I love writing all her wittiness! Also apparently Jughead? Since all of my writing has been through Jughead’s POV lately.

Best comment/review you’ve ever received?: So I received a comment on the first chapter of 101 Ways and it was just “DOGGIES” which made me laugh out loud> I also had someone (her name is Cat, she’s an admin, not sure if you’ve heard of her) tell me she cried into her Taco Bell reading One Last Chance. That was iconic.

Best and worst parts of being a writer?: Best parts are absolutely getting to stretch my creativity. I have a lot of ideas and writing is just such a cathartic thing for me. Writing makes me feel unburdened and free and that means a lot to me. I use my writing to cope with some of my anxiety and depression, because I feel good about words and how well I can manipulate them. Worst: That fear. That constant fear of not being enough. Of not being as good. Of comparison. It comes with fandom culture I think, this need to compare yourself to other people. I don’t ever mean to do it, but I can feel it happening sometimes. I love being able to learn from other writers by reading things and being encouraged to experiment, but perhaps it’s just who I am but I do have a problem with comparison.

Do you have any advice to offer?: Experiment experiment experiment! If you like something in another person’s writing, like a certain style, how they use metaphors, etc, there’s nothing wrong with adopting things you like and evolving you're writing based on what you like to read. It’s so important to keep changing and evolving and the only way you can do that is by trying new things!

This is the fifteenth instalment of Bughead Family’s Member Spotlight series. Each week, a member’s url is selected through a randomizer and they will be featured in a spotlight post. In order to participate, please join the Bughead Discord (more information found here). Thank you.

#bughead #riverdale #bughead fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #member spotlight #bughead family discord

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