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teledild0nix · 3 months

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what are thee best drarry fics to read in this day and age? I've not read any for a few years and I don't know what's good 🤔

what an incredibly flattering question! i do not know what your tastes run to, but here are a few of my recentish favorites in no particular order. i think these are all m or e, as that tends to be what i go for. they're also properly adults, well out of hogwarts, and the stories are sort of mid length, over 10K, under 100K. make sure you read the tags!

Necro-romance by @thehoneybeet coming in hot!!!! i feel like this is a very very profoundly drarry story. we are fucked up in some of the same ways so let's do weird sex about it. dark, weird, very tender. incredible atmosphere. loved it!!!

In Every Universe by @skeptiquewrites this is like an AU hopping fic where draco is on the run for Reasons, and harry is chasing him. not with state violence in his heart. please come home. EXQUISITE worldbuilding, one of my favorite things about Tee's fics. This fic is so fun and there are also some really heartwrenching moments that i won't even come close to spoiling. god i love it it's so fucking good

Anatomy of a Wolf Heart this fic is orphaned but i actually do know the author very well (and love him with all my heart). this is an amazing draco. he's dealing with some significant trauma on top of what he went through in canon. all i'm gonna say is werewolf draco cinematic universe my beloved. i love this harry, too. compulsively doing the right thing even as it fucks his whole life up. yum.

Home Truths another @skeptiquewrites fic bc Tee's writing got me WEAK. i rlly love the ensemble here!!! harry and draco are both amazing characters whom i adore, but they are also surrounded by other characters who feel so real and so lived in. wonderful worldbuilding as per usual w this author. and. harry is a pro athlete at the peak of his career so uh. he do be inhabiting his physical form. it's sexy okay. damn. Tee has a talent for capturing Draco's drama and prissiness without making him feel like a caricature. i found this story genuinely inspiring for lots of reasons, and i can't say enough good things about it.

Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo (this one is locked to the archive, so you'll need to be logged in to read it) god i love this story!!! food as a love language? gender magic? fucking YES PLEASE. it's nice to see them get out of the typical Stately Homes backdrop (i enjoy that too, but. well i'm not going to go off on a tangent about it now. variety is the spice of life!). lots of sensuality here and a heaping dollop of straight up fucking. i just love this depiction of them. i love draco's offers of vulnerability and harry's diving in face first. LOVE.

A Gift of True Esteem by ME! i am big enough to acknowledge that i write fucking good fic okay!!! hogwarts professors, chronic illness, historiography, gratuitous use of patronuses, fun world building in general. harry has been self-isolating a little bit. burying himself in his work. he has to let himself feel things again. joy, love, pleasure. draco makes him want to.

Names for a House this is also by me bc it's my fuckn list and i do what i want!!! harry is raising teddy lupin after andromeda gets sick (don't worry i do not kill off any old ladies in this fic). harry is also the wizarding world's first novelist. teddy lupin is a budding werewolf about to go off to hogwarts, and harry is not sure how to do right by him. FORTUNATELY harry's erstwhile nemesis and current cursebreaker is also a werewolf and teddy's cousin, and he's more than willing to help out.

#drarry fic rec #apliddell #my mutuals are very talented #it's so cool to like. spend time around people whose art you enjoy #it's like. inspiring!!!

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give-soup-please · 2 years

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Do you think you'll ever return here soupman? I don't mean like returning to writing stuff like this, just, returning to this blog? Maybe reclaiming it as a soup-based blog? Or will you leave it forever? As much as I love archival stuff (I have a bad memory so preserving things as they are helps me remember), I think I'll miss you. Not your writings, you. So yeah, will you ever come back?

Longer post below the cut (very, very, long. you've been warned), but here's the TLDR: Right now, I can't say whether or not i'm going to do anything more with this blog or leave it as is.

This blog has too many attachments for me to abandon it entirely, but I don't really know what people would like to see me do next, and I am very, very confused by people's responses to me leaving. If you want more detail and context, keep reading.

I really wish I had a solid answer for you, anon. I find myself a little confused, to be honest. I've always tried to pull myself off of rambling and ranting in posts and tags, because I assumed people were 100% here for my TSP content and nothing else. I often try not to do commentary in the posts, and put it in brackets so people recognize it and skip over it if they'd like. But more and more people are showing that they care about the person behind the posts? and I????

In the grand scheme of things, I always assumed I was just some guy who liked TSP a little too much. Good lord, I ramble about the narrator so much sometimes. For goodness sake, I commissioned the VA for some work, which even though it's been a few months, still gets me giggly and blushy when I think about it. Who does that? Who am I, in all of this?

But you didn't come here for my confusion, you came for an answer to a fair question. Truth is, I don't know yet. On one hand, it seems a bit silly to say, "never will i ever return to this blog or TSP, good day." because- life changes. circumstances change. The narrator has changed due to the events of ultra deluxe, and writing for him has changed me as well. On the other, I genuinely don't know what content people would want to see. There's another anon in my inbox who's message I've been staring at all day, where they also asked what will happen to me and whether or not I'd give occasional updates, because they often wonder if the people are alright when their blogs go silent. This is very sweet! I don't want the person who asked that to be embarrassed. But I'm honestly very confused that I'm cared about, outside the context of what I do. I don't understand it at all, to be honest.

I'll let you in on a little secret, for those of you who have read this far. If it weren't for college, I'd keep going. Forever, if I could. If things went my way, the narrator and I would spend all day together, drafting and redrafting, laughing and enjoying each other's company. Because I recognize he's a fictional character, but- at the same time, he also lives in my head. Not as part of a system, I don't have DID, but I carry a lot of fictional characters with me because that's how I coped with growing up the way I did. It was bad business. Those who read the tags carefully might know that I ran away from home a few years ago. My characters helped me stay afloat in what would have otherwise been an impossible situation. I am very, very attached to them.

But I need this degree. Things are complicated on my end. The only guarantee I have for housing involves a deal I made with certain people to pursue a higher education. I can't take my time with it any longer, I have to push forward as a full time student in order to receive what I need. If I don't do what I'm told, I'm at risk for homelessness. Before this, I had been going to community college for four years, taking my time and making excuses. My hubris has caught up with me, and now I've got to go at full speed.

I am not letting these characters go, they're being pried from my fingers along with my free time. I am working on accepting this, on saying goodbye. It's difficult. The grief is overwhelming, but, and here's a funny thing:

A game about free will and the lack thereof, about stanley who is a puppet of the player, and the narrator, who doesn't have much choice either.

Me, a writer, a lover of this game, living a life that's out of my control, and not having options. A predetermined path stretches out ahead, and I walk it.

Familiar story, huh?

I will not be able to handle both this blog and a full course load. A few people have asked me to keep going, to do both. They do not know me as well as I know myself.

On top of that, writing for other people is kind of... stressful. I've always been a 'ride or die' style artist, pushing and straining myself. The way in which I work is not healthy for me. To have that attitude towards school and my hobbies would probably destroy me. I love the prompts people send in, I don't want them to feel bad about it. However, my attitude and approach needs some work. Which is why the blog has an end date, just under a week before classes start.

It sucks. I have no desire to give up what I'm doing, but it's responsible and it makes sense. I think of the narrator near the end of the 'not stanley' ending, and my heart breaks a little.

"I don't know... What's the answer? What do I do? What do I do? What do I- No I have to. I have to shut the game down. I have to. I have to."

Doing the right thing is always hard. I have a few regrets. I regret not starting this blog sooner. I regret what I'll be leaving behind. I regret the choices I've made that have made other choices unavoidable.

But I do not regret my time here. I do not regret the 60k+ (and counting!) words that I've written. I do not regret filling my time with joy. I do not regret the friends I've made thanks to this community.

And thanks to this community, it's been the best summer of my life.

#personal #not tsp related

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bluejayblueskies · 1 year

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Rules: List Five Comfort Characters And Tag Five People. This is in no particular order.

Tagged by @organchordsandlightning and @magnetarmadda (like three weeks ago i am so sorry 😭)

And I'll tag uhhh @anonymoussong, @quigalchemist, @thewrongshop, @judesstfrancis, and @wordsintimeandspace! if you want!

funnily enough though i gained a new comfort character in those three weeks! who knew!!!! it gets spot number one bc i am rotating it in my brain rn 💕

list under the cut!

Murderbot (The Murderbot Diaries) - ohhh my goddddd i truly have not related so hard to a character in a while like ... it's just like me for real and i love it 💜 i'm almost done with fugitive telemetry and then i'm going to go back and listen to all the audiobook versions because i need more right now immediately. it's just ... it's really nice especially to see murderbot's (what i view as) autistic traits accommodated and respected by the preservation team, especially the bit in the first book where mensah catches on to the fact that it doesn't like eye contact and adjusts accordingly. i can see this book series fundamentally changing my worldview, and i'm 100% here for it. honorable mention: ART my absolute beloved 🥰

Parker Yang (Malevolent) - 'jay, how can parker be a comfort character if he's dead?' well you see i love him, that's how. truly though, sometimes when i'm sad i think about parker and then i 🥺 and then i am a little less sad. i go absolutely wild for pre-canon arthur & parker fics. grabby hands, more parker always.

Jonathan Sims (The Magnus Archives) - to absolutely nobody's surprise, my favorite bi ace archivist is on this list 🥰 jon's another character that makes me go 'oh he's just like me fr' and i love writing him! he was the first character that i really explored my own asexuality through (though i'd known i was asexual for a while before coming across him), and i just think he's neat and i am putting a blanket around his shoulders and keeping him away from the horrors 💕

Andrew Minyard (All For the Game) - if you're at all familiar with the AFtG series, this probably seems like an incredibly strange choice, but for me comfort character = a character that i'm glad i met and that i adore and that makes me happy by existing and sometimes that makes me feel things about myself, and andrew hits all of these points. i sometimes think about andrew's past and what he's gone through and what he has now and i want to chew through drywall, and without getting too overly personal, there are aspects of his storyline that hit me hard when i first read them and have stuck with me ever since. if you haven't read the series, i highly recommend it (though i also recommend looking up a list of content warnings beforehand because it's quite intense)

Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) - there are a lot of characters who could have gotten this final spot, but percy deserves it honestly. i've read the og 5-book percy jackson series like ten times and percy is just ... i loved him as a kid and i love him even more as an adult. he's the kind of character where i pick up a book and i start reading from his POV and i feel like i've just sat down in front of a fire with a cup of hot cocoa and a fleece blanket. he also reminds me of the good parts of my childhood, which is not an easy feat, and i appreciate that 💜

#tag game #i'm going so slowly through fugitive telemetry bc i don't want it to be over ;___;#eyeing that november drop date for the next book 👀 i want murderbot and art to go on adventures together

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iviarellereads · 4 months

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System Collapse, Chapter 8

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one!)

In which it's time to fight back with better tools than fists or energy gun arms.(1)

Murderbot starts assembling its documentary, loosely basing its fictional story around what it expects happened to the indentured contract workers it met on the way to Milu. It's using 94% of its processing capacity to do it, so Art-drone has to explain to the humans. Tarik is skeptical, Iris is just stressed, and Ratthi looks vacant because he's already reviewing MB's first draft.

It's including material from all sorts of sources. It knows the story has to be personal, so the part it's making up is the most important. It tries to craft it so that it will make humans care about the people whose story it's telling, as much as it cares about the humans in its shows.(2)

It was hard. I never liked watching helpless humans because I knew what happened to them, now I was having to not just watch it but create a story out of it and explain why and how it was happening.

Soon, Ratthi says some of his research is relevant, and he offers his archive for use. MB knew it was likely, and gives him a quick guide to the tagging system to help organize in the project space.

Then he sent me a note back: So, you may not know this, but I read your letter to Dr. Mensah, the one you sent when you left Port FreeCommerce. I think you’re absolutely the right person to write this.(3) I can’t handle that right now so I’m just going to archive it for later.

MB and Art-drone keep assembling. Art-drone generates voiceover of dramatic readings of text-only descriptions of some events, and together they organize the potentially useful persuasive clips from media in their available archives, fictional and otherwise. This is where MB knows they really need the humans' help, but it's feeling encouraged at how its project is shaping up in comparison to others in that cloud.

Tarik argues with Art-drone asking how many voices it can really replicate. Art-drone mimics Seth's voice perfectly to tell him any voice, and Tarik gets a moment to cuss before Art-drone assigns him the musical scoring for the piece. Tarik protests, he played a couple of traditional instruments in school. Iris pauses her conversation with Trinh to say they should interview Tarik for this.

MB remembers Tarik was on a death squad, and would be valuable input. They can steal the score from some other piece for now, the colonists won't recognize it anyway. Ratthi offers to interview, but isn't sure what to ask. Tarik, however, is motivated to not be in charge of music, and thinks they can figure it out.

Iris gets angry and cuts off the conversation, stomps over, and drops on the bed next to Ratthi. She says the colonists have agreed to watch the presentation, but the team needs to leave in the morning, as soon as the weather lets up.

They have five hours. It takes four and a half. They do a few dubiously ethical things, like morphing Iris's voice into Bharadwaj's which is explicitly against Preservation law but Ratthi is sure she'd give permission for this if she could. By the time they finish, there's not time for the human-helpers to watch the whole thing, at 47.23 minutes. So, they split it into thirds and each human watch one piece. A few corrections, and Art-drone is ready to push the final version.

Only, Trinh isn't available, so Iris isn't allowed to talk to anyone else. MB starts sweating, trying to figure out what to do, when Iris says she won't give up. She asks Art-drone how they can make the humans watch it. Art-drone says force likely isn't necessary: it opens AC2's media directory and says they can make it available to all.

MB, who doesn't even kick itself for not thinking of that because all that processing has its performance down, queries AC2 for file upload permission. After AC2 establishes the why, it gives MB an address to send it to, and reviews it to be sure it's not dangerous.

Ratthi wonders if they'll be able to watch it in time. Tarik says it's been forty years since they had anything new, of course they'll be intrigued. And Iris adds that it's really good.

AC2 asks about the accuracy, and Art-drone provides the list of sources and annotations.(4) AC2 confirms file upload, and MB sees it appear in the directory, tagged as entertainment as well as educational, but most importantly, as new. AC2 even added a note that it was a gift from the visitors on Team Art. MB wishes it hadn't added that part, as it's sure they're not very popular right now.

MB tells the team it's uploaded, and the humans all stop to stare at it. It stares back through its drones until Art-drone reminds them it'll take forty-eight minutes for most humans to watch, even if they get it immediately. Iris says they should get some rest, but Ratthi suggests they watch the whole thing, together. Tarik asks if that will really be less stressful.

At least no one had said if they watch it. Except I thought it, so. Whatever, I need to watch Sanctuary Moon now.

Art-drone cuts their access to the directory, so MB can't watch the download counter and catastrophize. So, while the humans watch the whole documentary, MB watches Sanctuary Moon on another bunk. It's comforting, but MB realizes it's in the mood for something new, in a way it hasn't felt since the incident. When they get back to Art-prime, it thinks it'll have to let Art pick something from a list it's been keeping, to apologize for being so useless.

It's then that MB realizes the humans are being distracting by not being distracting.

It knows it's a good sign when humans don't talk over media and when they don't move "except to eat crunchy things out of bags". And, it's having a bit of an emotional crisis about it all, as it spirals out about how this might let down all the people who helped. Art-drone says it's gained good insights from watching the humans watch it, MB doesn't need to worry.

Yeah, I’ll just code a patch to stop feeling anxiety, wow, why didn’t I think of that earlier. (That was sarcasm, I have too much organic neural tissue for that to work.) (Of course I’ve already tried it.)(5)

Finally, the humans get to the end. They listed the sources, but instead of credits, just left a statement that it's a collab between the University and Preservation.

Iris sighed and said, “That was excellent, SecUnit.” Ratthi said, “If they don’t like it, fuck them.” Tarik snorted a crunchy thing and had to be pounded on the back by Iris. “I’m serious,” Ratthi said, doing an exasperated hand-wave thing. “If they can’t recognize the truth in an attempt to save their lives, I don’t know what else to do.”(6)

Tarik asks Art-drone how they're doing on views. Art says there have been 362 downloads, 75 views completed just about as fast as their own, 287 still in progress. It finally unlocks MB's access to double check. Tarik asks how many people are in this colony, and Ratthi says 421, so most of the adults have downloaded it, and some will be watching in groups.

A call comes in to Iris's comm. Art warns her it's from Leonide. She accepts, disgruntled, but after says B-E are leaving, and want to meet again. MB notes that the weather is starting to clear, later than expected, but that probably means B-E were given the same request to leave.

Iris decides she and MB will go meet with them, while the others go prep the shuttle. Art-drone tries to argue, but Iris says they've done all they can, and the colonists know how to contact them. And, she is curious what else Leonide might have to say.

It wasn’t a bad plan, as plans go. I could still object and say I’d go alone, like before. Iris had already said as security consultant that kind of thing was my decision. But considering how that had worked out, I didn’t want to get set up by Leonide to say something stupid again, not when we might be close to succeeding.(7)

=====

(1) My alternative line for this today is "In which I could leave y'all with a one-paragraph summary but I'm not quite that cruel, at least about this series." (2) Fortunately, having watched several thousand hours of media and done a lot of thinking about the human condition, Murderbot is in a good position to understand stories and how to tell them. Just watching media can give you a baseline instinct for storytelling and how to craft and analyze it. It takes practice to refine it, and active work, but I feel like it's believable MB has spent time doing that. (3) Bestie's got your back, babe. (4) In the wake of all the plagiarism revelations this month, a very important detail that I'm glad wasn't lost in the sauce. (Pun intended.) (5) Gods, if only. (6) It's true, there's only so much they can do, and this was probably the strongest plan they could've come up with. (7) See, it CAN learn to do better.

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot diaries #system collapse #murderbot #secunit #ratthi #tarik (murderbot)#iris (murderbot)#art (murderbot)

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misfits-den · 8 months

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This poll got better response that I expected please keep voting, so for that 1 person so far who voted for more details.

The point is to get all the posts tagged with at least one of the tracked tags and reblog them to single blog.

Here's more or less how it will work (I'm open for suggestions)

Get all the posts from all tracked tags in given timeframe

Get unique posts - so posts with both tracked_tag_1 and tracked_tag_2 will be reblogged only once

Add archival date tags - right now the format would be [date], so for example for post made on 2023-02-31 > [2023], [2023-02], [2023-02-31]; that will allow to browse posts made on specific day, specific month, and specific year.

Copy the tags from original post - in effort to preserve extra content/warning tags, like mermaid!AU, or dragons, or flashing lights, etc. Those won't get the [].

Reblog

How often will it be run?

Everyday, but it will collect posts older than a week - or more, definitely not less. This is to encourage people to keep using the /tagged or /search options on Tumblr, because, as I've mentioned, Tumblr API DOES NOT return all the posts visible on web.

As in, when I've checked #trigunbookclub, API was missing like first 5 posts. And it's like that by design. The difference is due to Tumblr not actually using the API to display posts. I'm looking into alternatives, one looks good so far, hopefully it won't annoy Tumblr just as much as Tumblr annoys me, I don't want to get banned (again, suggestions are welcome).

It's also to give users time to modify/delete their post. And if you end up following the archival blog, you'll get to see the posts again.

Which tags will be tracked?

So far the list is: #trigun, #trigun maximum, #trigun stampede, #trimax, #tristamp, #trigunbookclub

I'll keep the list on pinned post on archival blog (together with most of what I've written here).

If you have any suggestions, go ahead and send me an ask/DM.

What if I don't want my posts reblogged?

Bot will ignore posts with tags: #delete later, #private, #do not reblog.

It can also be set up to ignore specific blogs.

If a post was already reblogged, let me know and I'll delete it.

Will you also filter out nasty tags like plantce-

No.

I want my posts reblogged, but they're often skipped

Let me know, we will see about getting them straight from your blog instead.

Will you start archiving from the newest posts or from the oldest?

Honestly I want to start from oldest, to try and keep the order of posting since you can't filter by multiple tags, so if someone wants to filter all #trimax posts, they will still get them in some chronological order, but I'm probably going to do a poll for that too. But-

For example, #trigun stampede has 4400 pages as of today, let's count 10 posts per page (there's less). I can reblog 250 posts per day (if I'm not mistaken), that's 25 pages. That's 176 days to get up to date just with #trigun stampede.

Yeah, poll it is.

When will it start?

I need to cleanup the code, and add some tests, but I should be able to start next week, IF I don't get any votes against.

What if I have more questions?

Hit me up, my askbox and DMs are open.

#hag talks #trigun #trigun maximum #trigun stampede #trimax #tristamp #trigunbookclub #so far looks like I'm doing it #oh man this is going to be fun #I'm currently running the alternate script for trigun #let's see if it will finish by morning without killing my computer #cause I think the earliest post on API was from 2013?

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danggirlronpa · 1 year

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FAQ

Now that we’ve got some of the Big Long FAQ Content out of the way, we can finally post an FAQ for The People! This will be updated as needed.

Last updated 12/17/2023.

Who exactly are you?

You can call me Peach! I got into Danganronpa when the Game Grumps started playing it, and haven’t quite been able to drop the interest since. I’m a 25-year-old nonbinary lesbian, and I’m currently working towards a career in video games. It's just me running this thing, so please be patient waiting for me to get back to you!

There’s a post I want you to reblog/I made something that would fit on this blog/I found something I think you should see.

Awesome! Please send a link through the submission box – I’ll take it from there! Note that it may take some time for any posts to show up on the blog. I also try to keep the blog relatively safe to browse in public, so I reserve the right not to post anything that I judge as too risque.

You are also free to @ me on posts, but keep in mind that Tumblr's blog tagging doesn't always work for me; submitting is generally the safer way to do it!

Will you tag for [X]?

I will tag anything upon request. This does not have to be triggering content - I do my best to tag all characters and ships within the post so they're easy to block or track. If the current tag is difficult to blacklist, I would be happy to add another tag! I will never ask why you want something tagged. If you send the ask off anon or request I not post it, I will answer the ask privately/add the tag without posting the ask. If I ever fail to tag something that I usually tag, please inform me right away.

You can find a full list of current trigger tags under the Blog Policies!

What happened to brackets?

Right now, brackets are on hiatus while I search for a job and take a game design certificate course! I'll be getting back into them in February 2024.

What's with the "for anon (:" tag?

There are a few blog policies that have generated some pretty nasty messages in my inbox. To save me the headache and my followers the annoyance, I make it a personal policy not to respond to them; instead, I just quietly reblog the content again and move on. These topics include:

Chihiro on the blog. You can find the reasoning in this post! The quick version is that I personally find most Chihiro headcanons perfectly valid, but due to the transphobia inherent in their canon depiction, it is important to me to acknowledge the popular fandom reclamation of the character as a trans girl.

Miyadera/Sister Shinguji. I outlined my full opinion on this here, and this is an important follow up! The quick version is that the degree of violence people wish on Miyadera makes me extremely uncomfortable considering her lack of canonical presence, and it reminds me of famous misogyny-driven character hate.

Will you still tag those topics for blacklisting?

Absolutely! The 'for anon :)' tag is to discourage aggressive asks, not to mock anyone who has issues with the subject.

A post where skin was lightened wasn't tagged/you tagged a post for whitewashing but it wasn't lighter than the canon skin color! Why do you keep doing that?

I have a TERRIBLE time distinguishing colors. I'm one of those people who has a ton of difficulty telling shades of the same color apart, and it's even more difficult for me to eyeball when they've changed the tints but not the lightness. You're just gonna have to tell me anytime a post like this comes up ): Sorry for the inconvenience!

Why do you reblog [X] type of "problematic" ship, but not [Y]?

Danggirlronpa sits somewhere on the line between an archiving project and a fanblog. Over the years, I’ve seen many fanworks and fandom history lost due to blog deletion and movement across platforms. This blog is intended to preserve all of this content for newer audiences and maintain an easy-to-use interface. As a preservation project, I try not to impose too many moral restrictions on what I reblog, even when it makes me personally uncomfortable. However, since this isn’t a professional archiving project, I’ve allowed myself one or two arbitrary standards for things that truly cross the line towards what I personally find uncomfortable.

If this is a project for archiving F/F ships, why do you reblog posts with just one girl?

Due to the nature of some girls’ popularity in fandom, there is a huge discrepancy in the amount of content for each of them. To even that playing field a little bit, I tend to reblog content for less appreciated girls, even if it isn’t actively sapphic.

What about why you reblog whitewashing?

Whitewashing and other forms of covertly racist, homophobic, and transphobic expressions in art are an important thing to archive because they show us the ugly side of fandom. For all four notably dark-skinned girls in DR, even after getting notably less engagement than their light-skinned peers, deleting every post that lightens their skin would cut their presence on this blog by half.

Ultimately, this blog aims to preserve the ugly parts of DR and its fandom, too, whether that be giving dark-skinned characters monkey companions in official merch, Atua jokes, trans Chihiro discourse, or blind hatred of "bitchy" female characters. While uncomfortable, they are something to note and learn from. If any existing tags do not help keep these off your dash in the event you don't want to see them, I highly encourage you to ask me to tag in a way that will be easy for you to block!

The OP/person you reblogged this from is problematic!

I have, in the past, been harassed due to the spread of misinformation through call out posts and other word-of-mouth. The harassment I experienced led to a suicidal relapse, and I still have a great deal of trauma from it. As a result, I am very cautious about asks like this. You are always free to send me information about someone questionable in the community, but please know that I will generally handle the issue quietly, and will not directly respond to you about it at all if you are on anon.

How do you feel about X current event issue?

Unless I have overwhelming approval to do so from followers, which I would only ask for in the event of a charity or benefit project, this blog will be a permanent safe space from real world issues. I may talk about oppression that I have personally experienced, but I will not bring up major current events.

For the same reason, please do not ever expect a DNI from me. I reserve the right to refuse discussion about anything, and block anyone, that I choose. While this is a project to help others, I feel strongly about setting my own boundaries, and will exercise my right to do so!

My question still isn't on here!

Drop it in the ask box! My messages have previously gone completely offline, so asks are the safest way to reach me.

#faq #mod talks

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enoughtotemptme · 2 years

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someone reaching back for me

The first time Eddie Munson watches Chrissy Cunningham die isn’t the worst. It’s the second, because he had thought she was going to live this time. //

The universe made a cosmic mistake the day Chrissy Cunningham was allowed to die. It set off a chain of events that led to catastrophe, at first local, then global, and eventually interdimensional. It led to the end of all there is, was, and would ever be.

But the universe is rather interested in self-preservation. It couldn’t save itself in the future, but it could save itself then.

If only someone would get it right.

Chapters: 13/24 Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Relationship: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Gore, Time Loop, Angst, Recreational Drug Use, Eating Disorders, Eventual Happy Ending

Chapter 13

13 13 13 13 13 13 13 13 L O O P T H I R T E E N 13 13 13 13 13 13 13 13 13 13 13 13 13

Eddie’s not sure how he doesn’t crash the van on the way to Hawkins High. He could barely get the key in the ignition, he was trembling so badly, and the yellow lines of the road seemed to undulate like a snake. He heads toward the school buildings and slows to a stop in the middle of the milling crowd of students.

He looks again and no one else is around except for Ms. Kelley, staring at him with concern on her face. How long has he been standing there?

“Eddie? Are you alright?”

He looks at her for a long moment, his arms crossed, his left foot tap-tap-tapping against the asphalt. “I don’t think so.”

“Why don’t you come with me?” she offers. “I’ll write you a pass if you miss part of first period.”

Inside her office he paces as much as he’s able, making sharp about-turns at every corner. He feels jittery, like he’s had a gallon of coffee and nothing else for two days.

“I can’t—I can’t make it stop,” he says. He crosses his arms tighter, feeling like he’s going to shake apart, then uncrosses them and grips the back of his skull. “Every god damn night, I can’t stop reliving the same fucking nightmares over and over.”

“Will you tell me about your nightmares, Eddie?”

“No. No.” His nightmares would land him in the Hawkins Hospital under a twenty-four hour psych hold. He can’t—he needs to be free, so he can get to Chrissy, save her in the bathroom, save her in the woods, save her in his trailer.

He can’t save her in the trailer. Why did he ever think he could be Chrissy Cunningham’s hero?

[click here to read more on ao3]

#eddissy #eddissy fanfiction #eddissy fanfic #hellcheer #hellcheer fanfic #stranger things #enoughtotemptme writes fic

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historyhermann · 1 year

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The Library of Congress, its digital strategy, and crowdsourcing

Screenshot of the homepage of the Library of Congress's Crowd program

In late October, I asked the Preservation Directorate of the Library of Congress (LOC), about what they decide to digitize and if they have a process similar to NARA (National Archives and Records Administration, called National Archives in the rest of this article), with their own digitization priorities including working with external partners. After thanking me for my interest in the LOC's preservation work, Jon Sweitzer-Lamme of the Preservation Directorate responded by saying:

The Library's digital strategy is available here: https://www.loc.gov/digital-strategy. Our prioritization is driven by demand, such as demand for our presidential papers collections like the newly released Theodore Roosevelt Papers (https://www.loc.gov/item/prn-18-132/), and preservation needs, especially if an item can’t be served to researchers anymore due to its condition. We have excellent in-house digitization capabilities and also utilize external contractors and partners to digitize our content.

Generally, that does answer my question, but unfortunately the answer from LOC did not come soon enough for a class assignment I had where I asked reference questions in the same vein of different institutions (AskUsNow!, Maryland State Archives, and UMD Archives). I'll post that on Academia.edu likely later this month.

Reprinted from my History Hermann WordPress blog and Wayback Machine. Originally posted on Dec. 6, 2018.

This also shows the site is made possible with a partnership via Amazon's SES [Simple Email Service], a worrying infiltration of public institutions with those from the corporate world. Even so, the Crowd program runs on open source software, so that is a positive.

Most exciting of all is not the digital strategy, but LOC's new "crowd" program, which is a bit like the citizen archivist initiative of the National Archives which I have participated a bit with in the past. While there are only five campaigns to transcribe, review, or tag information currently, but it is only in its beta stage, so this will likely be expanded in the future, without a doubt. This could become something of linked open data at its finest, not only connecting people with content, but bringing them further into the process to make the usage of records more collaborative for all, going beyond past efforts. In the coming days, I will test out the site and let the rest of you know on this blog what it is like. They even tied in the anniversary of the Gettysburg Address to this program.

With that, this new program fulfills the digital strategy of LOC (without a doubt different than the one in 2000), which states that their mission is to "engage, inspire, and inform the Congress and the American people with a universal and enduring source of knowledge and creativity," with initiatives such as this one trying to ensure that "all Americans are connected to the Library of Congress." This is also connected to their strategic plan which has four major goals: expanding access, enhancing services, optimizing resources, and measuring results. As for the digital strategy it also notes the role of digital technology in fulfilling the mission of this institution, while also "throwing open the treasure chest, connecting, and investing in our future." This strategy is also forward-thinking, stating that:

The Library's content, programs, and expertise are national treasures...We will make that content available and accessible to more people, work carefully to respect the expectations of the Congress and the rights of creators, and support the use of our content in software-enabled research, art, exploration, and learning The Library will continue to build a universal and enduring source of knowledge and creativity...We will expedite the availability of newly acquired or created content to the web and on-site access systems...We will explore creative solutions to reduce the barriers to material while respecting the rights of creators, the desires of our donors, and our other legal and ethical responsibilities...We will continue to enable computational use of our content and metadata...The Library offers an incredible wealth of content, programs, and services to Congress and the American people. We strive to connect with more users by making those services and content accessible for all...Many of the Library's digital users come directly to our websites to discover content. To expose even more people to the Library's content and services, we will bring digital content to users by making more of our material available in other websites and apps that they are already using...We will continue to participate in professional organizations and cooperatives that expand our perspectives and enable us to share our experiences. Additionally, developing partners in industry can allow us to connect the Library with new areas of expertise and resources...We will cultivate an innovation culture by empowering our staff, who have expertise in a wide range of subject areas, including the work of Congress, United States copyright law, American and foreign law, and our collections...Our plans for the future must entail preserving and protecting our collections and content...While we plan for our future, we are also paying close attention to innovations and trends that will present future challenges and opportunities. Newer tools, such as augmented and virtual reality, computer vision, natural language processing, and machine learning, are already transforming how we live and work.

Screenshot of the opening section of LOC's digital strategy

There aren't many other articles on this subject [1], from a quick online search, but all of the ones I found are relatively positive, although some are more critical than others. Roll Call, in their article on the subject, described how the digital strategy is "digital forward," advocated strongly by Librarian of Congress Carla Hayden (who heads LOC, and formerly the Pratt Library in Baltimore), and Kate Zwaard, the Director of Digital Strategy. Most interesting in this article was not that Accenture, a huge contractor, won a contract "to build the long-planned new data center" for LOC, or that the plan includes "employing user-centered design to invite digital and physical visitors to explore more offerings" but that the organization has been stuck in the past, trying to shed this past, because it has "a computing system built in the 1970s to static processes for staff." Having a 21st century computing system is important for LOC, which holds over 167 million items in its collections which sit on "approximately 838 miles of bookshelves," making it the "largest library in the world."

FedScoop also wrote about the digital strategy, noting that the "The Library of Congress...is interested in exploring what artificial intelligence and similar technologies can do for its mission," saying this focus on digital aspects is not "out of the blue" as LOC launched labs.loc.gov, "a home for digital experiments...last year...[and] it...recently began experimenting with geographic information systems mapping as a way to explore collections online." Both are positive aspects, to say the least.

Finally, there is Cory Doctrow of Boing Boing, which often has short articles with little content other than the document(s) they are quoting from. Regardless, Doctrow describes how the digital strategy supports "data-driven research with giant bulk-downloadable corpuses of materials and metadata...crowdsourc[ing] the acquisition of new materials...[and] preserv[ing] digital assets with the same assiduousness that the Library has shown with its physical collection for centuries," among other aspects. He interestingly notes how the LOC has an "outsized role" in the current digital era because it contains the Copyright Office, which is "patient zero in the epidemic of terrible internet law that reaches into every corner of our lives." This clashes with the fact that Carl Hayden, the Librarian of Congress "is the most freedom-friendly, internet-friendly, access-friendly leader in the Library's history, replacing unfit leaders who were brought down in grotesque corruption scandals" even though her leadership has fallen short, in Doctrow's view, because "the Copyright Office is still a creature of Big Content, and it has direct oversight over your ability to modify, repair, sell, and use all of your digital property." Still, he argues that

...this digital strategy is a very bright light, but it shines in a dark and menacing cave. I love the Library -- I love its work, its collections, its diligent and thoughtful staff, its magnificent building. But for all that, the Library has become a locus of terrible policy that runs directly counter to its mission. The contradiction between the Library's mission and its real role in policy has never been more clear than it is in this wonderful document. [2]

That brings me to the end of this article. What are your thoughts on this new digital strategy of LOC and its new Crowd program?

Notes

[1] Through a further search I found a snippet from the report on infodocket, dh+lib blog of the ALA, and the Digital Journal.

[2] James Tanner of Genealogy's Star makes a similar point, but says that LOC is not "certainly not the leader in the number and value of their online offerings" since the "the recent history of the Library of Congress is far from promising" with the closure of the Local History and Genealogy Reading Room in 2013, and the "inherent contradiction in the current efforts of the Library of Congress due to the fact that they are also the agency responsible for the controversial access policies inherent in the United States Copyright Law because the Copyright Office is an integral part of the Library." This means, as Tanner argues,due to "Congressional action, use and access to many valuable research materials have been overwhelmingly restricted" while adding that "policies and budgetary constraints at both the Library of Congress and the National Archives have severely limited the number and availability of digitized records from both institutions. It would be a huge change if this present plan includes real changes in the number and availability to access items in both institutions collections." Still, he is optimistic, saying that "it will be interesting to see what will happen, although I do not expect any significant changes during what is left of my lifetime," although he says that the Internet Archive "may become the largest library in the world considering its growth during the past few months and years assuming they catch up with the National Library of Australia."

#library of congress #crowdsourcing #digital libraries #amazon #internet archive

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fae-of-the-rose · 1 year

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I posted 1,247 times in 2022

That's 602 more posts than 2021!

12 posts created (1%)

1,235 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@silvermuffins

@bealoideas

@glitteringnebulae

@nyctoheart

@perkynurples

I tagged 1,247 of my posts in 2022

#yes good - 315 posts

#inspiration - 176 posts

#reference - 173 posts

#oh my gods - 115 posts

#jojo's bizarre adventure - 100 posts

#twisted wonderland - 86 posts

#kingdom hearts - 67 posts

#mdzs - 58 posts

#grandmaster of demonic cultivation - 56 posts

#ensemble stars - 36 posts

Longest Tag: 75 characters

#how in the fuck are you not going batshit with your lab in that apartment??

My Top Posts in 2022:

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Urianger Augurelt/Thancred Waters, Minor or Background Relationship(s), minor Gaia/Ryne | Minfillia Characters: Urianger Augurelt, Thancred Waters, Gaia (Final Fantasy XIV), Ryne | Minfilia Additional Tags: others are mentioned - Freeform, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), for like two lines, Implied/Referenced Abuse, thanks Vauthry, goes into absolutely no detail but it is mentioned, disgustingly in love dads

Summary: Urianger and Thancred's home is always open to those who need a place to stay.

6 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

So when I’m bored and unwinding for sleep apparently I make characters. Anyway @khttrpg posted a character sheet thingie to make characters with and I figured why the heck not I can always use more OCs.

Assuming I did my math right, Riley here has 5 Major Levels, is the Replica of a scientist’s son who’s father was very, very keen to see how far the human body could be pushed before being forced into Heartless/Nobody.....and look I based him on Prompto Argentum, taking characters from a video game or other media and building them in a TTRPG system is a really good way for me to figure out how the system works. Also he was the easiest to justify as a Cosmic Mage and I really like Cosmic Mage’s flavor.

All of his stats should be right if I did my math right this late at night (I added +3 to HP and +2 to MP) and there were a couple of things I noticed missing from the doc but otherwise extremely fun to build out! His whole deal would, obviously, be about finding where he belongs and figuring out where the scientist is now and maybe getting revenge for the bullshit that guy did to Riley’s “brothers”.

EDIT TO ADD since tumblr’s ask limit means this is easier: The things I noticed missing were: several Jobs give you free spells that don’t count against the number of spells you can learn but at no point in the doc does it say just how many spells you can learn aside from those; and some clarification on if a Talent can exceed a Stat if boosted by Reflex Improvement or other Class abilities.

7 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

>playing Stardew Valley for the first time in a while >”btw Ginger Island is a thing” >unlock Ginger Island >oh...oh no

anyway I do not think I am likely to ever use anything on the island except that forge ever that is just TOO MUCH I am not a min-max/must make all the money type of player I am just a simple Fae who wants to marry cute boys and have a cute farm

11 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

I’m gonna need an internet historian to compile this wild Nier Automata Church Saga once it’s all said and done this is just bonkers like. whatever it ends up being it needs to be preserved as both a wild time and also a prime example of the DrakeNier fandom and how willing we are to like. accept this shit

41 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

youtube

D23′s going on today and new Tron game holy shit yes

119 notes - Posted September 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #yes good #Youtube

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jilisilver · 1 year

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Oblivion the hit list

DOWNLOAD NOW Oblivion the hit list

Oblivion the hit list archive#

Oblivion the hit list full#

Thankfully, Mark had a habit of hanging on to anything that he thought might be important later. But when the era of the arcade ended, the city’s bigger game-makers began to go extinct, and they left reams and reams of material behind. The city was the birthplace of such familiar arcade games as Rampage, Mortal Kombat, and NBA Jam. He worked for numerous game-makers-Mindscape, Acclaim Entertainment, Konami, Midway Games, Atari, and NuFX, which became EA Chicago-at a time when Chicago was a video-game capital of the world. Mark amassed his collection during two decades in the video-game industry, first as a quality-assurance tester and later as a producer. Listening to them, I felt like a kid on an unchaperoned field trip. “This is the longest-running and most-subscribed-to video-game magazine in the U.S.,” Lewin observed. Cifaldi summarized it for me: “Here’s some stuff coming out about dinosaurs. The article about dinosaurs was buried in the back of the magazine, and it wasn’t even really about video games. “The early days of Game Informer were very out of touch,” Cifaldi, who is tall, with an air of intense concentration equal to Lewin’s, told me. Lewin, who is compact and laser focussed, suddenly pulled a magazine from a pile and exclaimed, “Year of the dinosaur!” She had discovered her favorite-ever issue of Game Informer, from the nineties.

Oblivion the hit list full#

The house, I noticed, was full of cat-themed décor. By the time I finally found the place, Cifaldi and Lewin were already hard at work in the living room, hunched over piles of old documents. The Flitmans live just down the street from a suburban high school, and their two-story brick house is so nondescript that I initially drove right past it. I tagged along to witness the work of the Video Game History Foundation. In June, Cifaldi and Lewin traveled to Chicago to visit another game designer’s trove, and they took the opportunity to revisit Mark’s stuff. senator’s list of wasteful projects.) The challenge isn’t just technical: it’s also about convincing the public that game history is history, and that it’s well worth saving. (One museum curator even told me that a federal grant for his game-preservation work ended up on a U.S. But games aren’t always treated as a serious part of the culture, and historians and archivists are only starting to preserve them. Generations of kids grew up playing these video games and helped to jump-start the digital revolution.

Oblivion the hit list archive#

They have been working to archive his collection ever since. Cifaldi and Lewin agreed to fly out to Chicago to sift through Mark’s hundreds of games and dozens of dusty boxes. He directs it alongside Kelsey Lewin, the co-owner of Pink Gorilla Games, a retailer that sells retro video games in Seattle. Two days later, she was on a Zoom call with Frank Cifaldi, a Bay Area preservationist who incorporated the foundation in 2016 and opened it to the public in 2017. It was downvoted enough times that it appeared at the very bottom of the thread, but Michelle decided to send the foundation an e-mail. One of these comments referenced an organization called the Video Game History Foundation. Out of a hundred and forty-nine comments, one or two urged Michelle not to sell the games and to preserve them for posterity instead. I’ll give you all of the money for it.” The most popular comment joked, “Do you need kidneys? I’ve got kidneys.” Another said, “I think I have some unwanted family members lying around here somewhere.” Someone else said, “I want that boxed copy of castlevania 4. “You can make a living out of these games,” one person told her. The thread quickly filled up with commenters who clearly saw the value of Mark’s stuff. “We plan on selling most of his collection. “My dad was a video game producer for multiple companies in the 90’s/2000’s,” she typed. When we spoke recently, she recalled a realization that she had: “Historians care about this stuff.” She decided to post photos of her dad’s collection-shelves of games in black-and-red boxes, some of them still in their original shrink-wrap-on a subreddit devoted to game collecting. Then, in college, she took a course on video-game history, and her professor nudged her to write a research paper. Michelle tried to interest YouTube hosts and Web-site owners in the relics she grew up with, but nothing came of those efforts. But to Michelle, they were part of the fabric of childhood, and she thought her father deserved some recognition. To her dad, Mark, they were the odds and ends of corporate life: he was a game producer and designer who worked on NFL Blitz 2003, Spider-Man and Venom: Maximum Carnage, and WWF Raw. Michelle Flitman, a recent art-school graduate who lives in a suburb of Chicago, grew up in a home full of video games.

DOWNLOAD NOW Oblivion the hit list

#Oblivion the hit list

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in-fair-verona-we-set-our-scene · 3 years

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ugh like I’m so tired of the Discourse™ that comes around every year when people are asked donate to ao3. So here’s some basic points.

I throw 5$ at the fanfiction site upon which I post and read my fanfic because I use the service and would like said service to continue being functional. Servers can’t run on hopes and horny dreams alone, you need money to run them. Like a subscription only voluntary. Me donating means people who can’t or won’t donate can use it too.

Stop getting mad about people donating to ao3 unless you get equally mad about them spending money on renting a movie or buying merchandise. For most of us, it’s part of our entertainment budget, not our charity budget. Well, if you budget those things.

Ao3 receives a lot of traffic which ups the price of running their servers. The fact they can manage on volunteers and donation money is impressive. It’s not perfect, but it is functional.

They are non-profit. No one is pocketing the donation money, excess money goes a variety of other not immediately vital for ao3′s functioning funds like updates or surprise repairs. There finances are literally right there for anyone to check.

The reason ao3 receives so much money is mostly a product of the sheer number of users, not because fans are donating an excessive amount (though if they are, who cares?). Yes, some people donate enough for the ao3 duffle bag, but ao3 receives millions of hits per day and has 2 million registered users, and most of said users are probably fans who are known to be passionate about their hobbies. It doesn't take a high percentage of users donating just 5$ to exceed their goal.

I also think you guys are really underestimating how expensive it is to run a site like ao3.

There are legit criticisms or ways to improve ao3, but it’s mostly tagging functionality or not having a block function. Y’know, actual ways to improve the site. Not that ao3 follows its core mission statement of hosting all fic regardless of content. If that’s what you want to change, you don’t want to improve ao3, you want to get rid of it.

Related, ao3 is an archive, not social media or a commercial distributor. The purpose and functionality is different and should be approached differently. Archives are meant to store and preserve stuff for later access that match the theme of the archive, and ao3′s theme is legal in the USA fanwork. It’s also not limited by space the same way a physical archive might, where they have to prioritize what they want to keep or throw away. And it has no algorithms or advertisements or profit-related motivations, which is super important if we’re talking about why we can’t treat it like social media in terms of what it does.

Is there morally disgusting and/or harmful stuff of ao3? I have no doubt. I’ve read some of it. But ignoring the fact that your idea of harmful fiction and my idea of harmful fiction might very different and so coming up with a consistent criteria everyone agrees on will be impossible, there’s morally disgusting fiction everywhere (depending on how you define it). I mean, Game of Thrones aired on mainstream TV for years and was a pop culture sensation cornerstone and it’s pretty common to cite the stuff that was on that show as a sign of immoral fiction, but only when we’re talking fanfiction.

Like I do think we need spaces where certain stuff isn’t allowed, like smaller vetted collections or rec lists, but ao3 has a different purpose.

Just... of course fans who care about ao3 are getting defensive about it. It provides a very important function in fandom! We use it a lot and it helps centralize many of our communities. I find the design comfortable and easy to use. It’s honestly a miracle it exists and very refreshing compared to the capitalist hellscape the modern internet has descended further into. Ao3 is something that fulfills the needs and desires many people do had, and so threatening to try and take that away or implying they’re evil bastards who deserve to get run over by a car for donating is kind of upsetting.

#ao3 #I dunno I haven't slept in like 24hrs #but I just keep seeing people complain and it's annoying #so now I have given into my urge to explain why Someone On The Internet Is Wrong #but also I don't like people telling me to die because I donate to ao3 #imagine if people got this upset for donating to the local library or something

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tearsofgrace · 4 years

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I Love Led Zeppelin

written for suptober 2020 day 11: rock and roll

word count: 3.1k tags: so much zeppelin, HAPPY ENDING, that’s right i wrote happy shit, angst, fluff, love confessions

also on archive!

“I want to know why you chose them,” Cas said petulantly.

Dean turned onto the highway and glanced at Cas. “I told you. They’re just the best Zepp songs.”

Cas just stared at him. And Dean stared right back. The angel wasn’t winning this one. Because if he started talking, it would all become too obvious.

As if giving him a damn mixtape wasn’t already obvious, he thought. He looked away. Not because he was letting Cas win, but because he hadn’t looked at the road in a while and getting in a car crash wasn’t in the cards for today.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, man.”

“What about this one?” Cas asked, and Dean stopped listening to the music. It had been Cas’ idea to listen to the mixtape, and after getting over his shock that Cas still had it, he agreed. He loved Zeppelin, what could go wrong?

“Ten Years Gone” was playing, and he pushed back a smile. He remembered choosing this one, listening to the lyrics, knowing how perfectly it fit. Robert Plant had written it for an old girlfriend who’d made him choose between music and her. And ten years later, he looked back on where he was.

It was stupid. God, he knew it was stupid. But he’d chosen it because Cas hadn’t chosen his music: Heaven. Cas had chosen them, and here they were, ten years later.

“I chose it because I like the chords,” he finally answered as the song came to an end.

“Oh,” Cas said.

The opening lines of “Ramble On” came on and Dean smiled. God, he loved Zeppelin. He and Sam didn’t listen to music enough in the car anymore. It brought back memories. The good memories from his childhood.

“Why did you add this one?” Cas sounded so serious, so sincere. And this one, this one Dean could answer. It wasn’t like some of the other songs on the tape.

“Kinda loved the Lord of the Rings imagery, but if you tell Sam you’re dead.” Cas laughed softly and Dean joined him. “And,” he took a breath, “I don’t know, it’s kinda like us, right? Like we have to keep going, no matter what evils we’re facing.”

“I like it,” Cas said quietly.

Dean reached over and turned it up, singing along dramatically because he knew Cas would get a kick out of it. Sam would have called him annoying, but not Cas. His friendship (friendship? That what you want Dean?) was so different with Cas.

When the song ended, and “Whole Lotta Love” came on, he almost reached over to shut it off. A blush rose in his cheeks as he remembered picking this one, confident Cas wouldn’t know what it was talking about, confident he’d never have to confront Cas about it. He remembered recording it, his mind drifting to Cas even as he tried to stop it.

He was lifting his hand to the skip button when Cas covered his hand and pushed it back to the seat. Dean hated how much he wished Cas’ hand would just stay there. But it didn’t. It never did.

“I wondered about this one,” Cas said thoughtfully. Dean gulped, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. “It’s very,” Cas paused, and he could feel his eyes boring into the side of his head. He was sure his cheeks were flaming. “Very aggressive,” he finally finished.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” He let his eyes flick quickly to Cas and immediately regretted it. He looked so innocent, so clueless, but Dean could see the slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “C’mon, man it’s a great song,” he said, gluing his eyes back to the road.

“I thoroughly enjoy it.”

Dean gulped again, pictured Cas listening to it, hearing the lyrics. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and kept his lips firmly closed until the next song started.

The opening guitar line of “Stairway to Heaven” played and he immediately relaxed.

“Sam said you shouldn’t have picked this one. He said it was too overplayed,” Cas said before they were even thirty seconds into the song. And Dean almost ran them off the road right then.

“Sam knows about-” he cut himself off. No, that was too obvious. “Uh, why’d Sam say that?”

“I was listening to the song. And I told him you gave me a mixtape with your favorite Led Zeppelin songs and told him which song I was listening to. He said it isn’t even their best song.”

Shit. There wasn’t a chance in hell Sam didn’t know what giving someone a damn mixtape meant. At least Cas had been listening to “Stairway” but still. Dammit.

“He’s right,” he said, trying to control his voice. “It’s not their very best, but c’mon it’s a classic. I couldn’t just not add it. You have to admit, it’s a good song.”

“It’s my favorite on the tape,” Cas said.

Dean snorted. Of course it was. He wasn’t going to fault Cas for it, though. It was an amazing song. They let the song play out in silence, and Dean let himself let go. Just let it roll over him, let Cas’ presence steady him.

Next came “Kashmir,” which was another easy answer. It was a classic. But Dean always saw it as more than that. It was about the journey, not the destination, reaching for some distant horizon. That’s how he thought of his time with Cas. He got to enjoy the journey, even if they would never really reach the end, not the end he wanted anyway. It was gonna end bloody. One or both of them dead.

When “Going to California” started Dean smiled and went soft. John used to play this one after a really long hunt, and Dean hadn’t even learned the lyrics for years. He just loved the way it felt, the way everything weaved together and created a very specific feeling in him every time.

“I love this one,” Cas said quietly, as if to preserve the moment. “I like to think we can all get a fresh start.”

“Me too,” Dean answered. A fresh start. They’d had so many… way more than their fair share. But they still got more, still gave each other more, over and over. He didn’t know why Cas was even still with them, why he hadn’t turned tail and run ages ago. But he was glad for it.

“Black Dog” and “Travelling Riverside Blues” were next. He told Cas they were classics. Didn’t tell him that both of them were his mom’s favorites. Both of them were part of the reason she fell in love with John. Both of them made him think that maybe he could have something like that, even when he knew it wasn’t possible.

There were only a few songs left. And if Cas hadn’t figured it out already, these would make it painfully obvious that he chose these songs very specifically. That he chose them for Cas.

“Tangerine” started and he smiled. He loved how slow this one started, how sweet it was. He would never admit it out loud, but it was right up there with “Ramble On” and “Travelling Riverside Blues” for his favorite song.

He almost didn’t add it. Because it was so obvious. But also because it just wasn’t him and Cas. They would never have that sweet, innocent new love. There was so much baggage between them, so much to wade through before even finding a hint of love. But Dean knew it was there. If only brotherly on Cas’ side, it was there. And this song, this reminiscing on a sweet, beautiful relationship, it’s what he wanted with Cas. So sue him if he added it to the list.

“There’s a lot of love songs on this mixtape,” Cas noted. Dean glanced at him sharply, trying to gauge what he really meant. But with Cas, he always just said what he meant. There was very rarely a double meaning, a hint at something that wasn’t there.

“Yeah, there is,” he agreed, his breathing shallow. “Zeppelin has a lot of ‘em.” It wasn’t a lie… but Zepp also had plenty of non-love songs.

He almost sighed audibly when “Good Times Bad Times” came on next.

Cas didn’t have to ask at this point. He just stared at Dean until he answered the unspoken question.

“Chose this one cuz it’s our lives, ya know?” Dean ran his hands over the leather and glanced at the mile marker; they were just a few miles away from the town. Maybe they wouldn’t even make it to the end of the tape. “I mean, it’s mostly shit. But we have good times too.”

“We do,” Cas agreed seriously. And Dean allowed himself a small smile. He hated himself for loving that Cas had already listened to this start to finish multiple times, had kept it through multiple apocalypses, actually cared that Dean had taken the time to put it together. Because it didn’t mean the same thing to Cas. He wanted it to. But it didn’t.

There were only three songs left. They were as blindingly transparent as he could possibly be. And the fact they were on a homemade mixtape only added to it. But Cas… Cas wouldn’t understand.

“Fool in the Rain” was the beginning of the end. It wasn’t like it was one of Zepp’s most famous songs, but Dean had always loved it. It sounded almost idiotic on the surface, a lover waiting on the wrong block in the rain. But Dean had always seen it as more than that. Maybe he was being too deep… but, for one, there wasn’t anything in the song that suggested it was a man and a woman. And as a kid, he’d liked that. He liked to let it be whoever he wanted, let it represent whatever he needed. He wouldn’t get caught dead telling anyone else he’d even noticed that, but he’d always love the song because of that.

As he’d gotten older, he grew to love it even more. To him, it sounded like one sided love. Like someone who was waiting desperately for a sign that they would ever be loved back. But they were looking in the wrong place and they wouldn’t ever find it. As Robert Plant sang “My heart it sinks to the ground/And the storm that I thought would blow over/Clouds the light of the love that I found,” Dean resisted the urge to say something, to tell Cas, This is me. This is me because I’ll never have you.

“Why this one?” Cas prompted.

Dean cleared his throat. “Listen to his voice, dude. It’s amazing.”

He risked another glance at Cas, saw his eyes narrow and his head tilt, and knew he wasn’t satisfied with that answer. But it wasn’t like he could tell him the truth.

There were only two songs left. Two Dean had wanted to put on so badly that he couldn’t resist, no matter how obvious they were. He kept telling himself Cas wouldn’t even care enough to listen, much less to listen closely. Obviously that hadn’t worked.

Before he could turn off the music, claiming they were only five minutes out anyway, the soft vocal intro of “What Is and What Should Never Be” started.

Real smooth, Winchester, he thought. Putting a song about forbidden romance on a mixtape for your best friend.

“I understand this one,” Cas said.

Dean blinked and focused on the road, searching for the sign that would take them to the motel.

“You what?”

“I understand it. I don’t understand why you included it, but I understand it. Sometimes love just isn’t meant to be. Sometimes it isn’t possible, no matter how beautiful, how perfect it is.”

Dean nodded slowly. Was there someone in Cas’ past life he didn’t know about? Or even worse, someone he knew right now?

He didn’t respond to Cas. He didn’t know what to say.

They pulled into the motel as the final note played and Dean turned off the car, shutting off the music with it.

“What about the last song?” Cas asked.

Dean’s heart rate picked up and he felt his ears burning hot. He’d put it last. Maybe in hope that Cas wouldn’t get to it, or maybe because it perfectly closed what he was trying to say. What he felt.

“We, um,” he took a deep breath and let it out. “We have to check in, buddy, it’s late.”

“I want to listen to it, Dean,” Cas said, fixing him with those intense blue eyes. And really, no one could say no to that.

Dean restarted the car, trying to let the pleasant hum of Baby’s motor calm him down.

If the sun refused to shine I would still be loving you

The opening lines played through the speakers and Dean stopped himself from cursing loudly. He was fucked. He couldn’t sit in this car, with Cas, and pretend like this meant nothing. Like this was just another song that he really liked.

When mountains crumble to the sea There will still be you and me

He tried not to let his mind drift. Tried to ignore how silent Cas had gone. Tried not to think of those words the angel had spoken in the bunker so long ago. “Everyone you know, everyone you love... they could be long dead. Everyone except me. I'm the one who will have to watch you murder the world. So if there's even a small chance that we can save you, I won't let you walk out of this room.” Cas would have stayed with him, even while he burned the world to the ground under the influence of the mark.

Dean took a deep breath and anxiously ran a hand through his hair.

Kind woman, I give you my all Kind woman, nothing more.

Cas shifted slightly next to him, but he didn’t dare look up.

Little drops of rain whisper of the pain Tears of loves lost in the days gone by My love is strong, with you there is no wrong Together we shall go until we die My, my, my inspiration is what you are to me Inspiration look, see

So much pain. There was so much pain between them. It swirled and came to life whenever they spoke. But it didn’t matter, because Dean was never leaving Cas. He knew that now. He couldn’t do it without him.

As the guitar interlude played, he tried to calm down. To fight the panic climbing in his throat. This whole thing had been a bad idea. He should have never made the damn tape in the first place. His breathing slowed a little when the vocals came back. He could do this.

And so today, my world it smiles Your hand in mine, we walk the miles Thanks to you it will be done For you to me are the only one Happiness, no more be sad Happiness, I'm glad

The image was so clear in his mind. Him and Cas walked down an asphalt road, hand in hand, the sun in front of them and their troubles behind them. He would never have it, but it didn’t matter. He still owed Cas all his happiness, owed him his life, owed him everything. And he still never said thank you.

If the sun refused to shine I would still be loving you Mountains crumble to the sea There will still be you and me

Dean took a deep breath and looked at Cas. There was still almost a minute of instrumental in the song. It would be so easy, just to say that he liked the song. Or that it reminded him of someone. Or that he thought Cas would enjoy the sound of it.

Then Cas spoke, and he realized the angel’s eyes were wide and his lips were turned up in a smile. “Dean, please don’t lie to me. Why this one?”

He didn’t answer at first. He knew Cas would wait, and he did. They listened to the end of the song, and then the car went quiet. Dean turned the engine off and fiddled with the keys in his lap before looking back into Cas’ eyes.

“I guess,” he breathed in. He could do this. Why not? He couldn’t fuck things up with Cas more than he already had. He’d beaten him, nearly killed him, left him when he was vulnerable, yelled at him, taken him for granted. And yet, here he was. Right by Dean’s side, fighting to save the world again. “I guess I’m trying to say thank you, Cas. For sticking with us.”

Cas’ smile grew just a little, almost showing his teeth, and he held Dean’s eyes, as if waiting for him to go on. And Dean was going to leave it there, he really was. But for some reason, maybe the safety of Baby, maybe the soft way Cas was watching him, maybe the quiet begging to be filled, he went on. “I don’t want you to leave again. I don’t want to leave you. If we- If we beat God, then I still want you to stay. We take you for granted- I take you for granted. I know that. But I just- I want you here. I need you here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” he said quietly, reaching for the door handle.

“Dean,” Cas said firmly. Dean paused and looked up, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. “I love you.”

His eyes widened and his thoughts swirled. He was dreaming, he had to be dreaming. Or this was a trick, someone was possessing Cas, someone was hurting him, someone was-

“It’s me, Dean.” And everything else melted away. It was Cas sitting next to him. Cas who had just spent an hour listening to Led Zeppelin with him. Cas who wasn’t leaving. Cas who had told him he loved him.

“I love you too,” he said. And it didn’t matter that Cas had just told him he loved him. Didn’t matter that Cas made him feel so safe. Didn’t matter that in spite of everything--all his doubts, all his fuckups, all his anger--he actually believed Cas wasn’t lying. He was still terrified.

Then Cas leaned across the seat and pressed their lips together, and he stopped thinking. He kissed him back gently, reveling in the taste, the softness, the electricity.

When they pulled away, he laughed softly and grinned sheepishly at the angel. Then he ejected the tape from the car and handed it to him before pressing another kiss against his lips. There were a million things he wanted to say, to explain, but there was only really one that fit.

“Thank you.”

tag list {ask to be added or removed!}:

@fandomstuff67 @menjiiii @witchyanaels @starlightcastiel @chaoticdean @larryforeveralways @samhainsam @ghostsforcas @tlakhtwritesdestiel @wanderingcas @hallowena @spooky-things-do-happen-dean @jayus-fandom-writer @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @starrynightdeancas @radiantdean @piemaker-from-gallifrey @on-a-bender @eshaninjer

#suptober20 #these are the songs on the mixtape don't fight me #long post #destiel fluff #happy ending #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn fan fiction #destiel fanfic #deancas fic #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #my writing

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kenanda · 3 years

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It was hard to decide but... 101 for smut prompt please? 👁️ (do I need to write lonelyeyes or is it default?)

Prompt: 101 - “you’re not wearing anything under that, are you?”

Eye, you absolute genius! Thank you for the prompt and for the beta read! I hope this is to your liking; I certainly had a grand old time writing this piece!

Disclaimer: These characters AREN’T mine. They belong to Rusty Quill’s The Magnus Archives.

Warning: This work ISN’T SUITABLE for minors. It’s a NSFW piece of slash fiction. Therefore, if you’re a minor or in any way squicked by what’s in the tags, DO NOT READ!

WORTH THE WAIT Words: 2,9k Pairing: LonelyEyes; Jonah!Elias / Peter Lukas Rating: EXPLICIT Tags: established relationship, University!AU, Young!LonelyEyes, unrequited crush, drinking, rimming, handjob, exhibitionism, mild dirty talk, rutting, fingering, touch averse!Peter, Slut-&-Proud! Elias, prompt fill

FILTHY LONELYEYES BELOW THE CUT, MY BELOVED!!!!!

WORTH THE WAIT

There has to be some sort of cosmic joke at play for Elias to develop a crush on someone from his uni class and that said someone happens to be Peter Lukas.

Because you see, as likeable and polite as Peter is, there’s something about the guy that keeps people at a distance. Try as he might, Elias never seems able to bridge that gap, much less make it understood that he wants Peter as more than a colleague or a friend.

It has occurred to him that Peter may not be interested in romance or sex at all. The first seems more feasible; the latter, not so much. Elias is always keeping an eye on Peter (perks of living across the hall from one another) and has seen him bring people to his room on more than one occasion.

Not often, no, but enough to make Elias wonder — about Peter, about those people, and what they could be doing together just across the hall. It takes Elias a while to fall asleep on those nights.

In class, Peter sits next to him and makes light conversation, but it never goes beyond that. Elias is annoyed that Peter doesn't seem to have any interest in him, especially when Elias is handsome, manly, and has an ass that looks great in joggers — which he makes a point to always wear to their study sessions.

If anything, Elias is patient. If he has to keep wearing joggers and asking Peter out with hopes that he will one day finally say yes, then so be it. Though that isn’t to say Elias will breeze through his trials with a smile on his face: by the end of another month of repeatedly getting turned down, Elias is snapping even at his mates.

It's surprising that this mood is what causes Peter to initiate conversation that’s not about class.

"Something bothering you?"

Elias blinks a few times because he isn't sure he heard it right.

"A few things, yeah."

"I've got something for that in my room. Come by tonight if you want. Will help you relax a bit."

Elias hopes that it isn't too evident that he’s essentially dancing in his seat from then on. Talk about a mood change: one could even call him cheery.

When night comes and the halls are quiet, Elias showers with such intent that his skin becomes red; he scrubs every nook and cranny, but doesn't apply perfume. He knows that Peter doesn't like it.

Elias puts on something easy to remove: grey joggers, a sweatshirt and nothing else. At least he can pull the sweatshirt down and hide the fact that he's half hard (he’s been on the very edge of horny from the moment Peter asked him out).

He never considers the possibility that Peter might have meant anything other than sex. When he gets there, Elias is hit in the chest with the sight of a cramped room. Four people are there besides Peter, sharing a now half empty bottle of vodka.

Elias' mood sours.

"There's the man! Mr. Bouchard! Took you long enough mate, thought you weren't coming," chimes Tim, a chipper guy from their class that Elias has no idea why Peter is even friends with.

Elias does his best to smile. "Yeah, I overslept a bit."

They welcome him inside with friendly pats on the back. Peter eyes him curiously, but doesn't say anything.

Elias wants to storm off and find better things to do with his joggers clad ass. But he's here already, isn't he? One doesn’t always get a chance to drink expensive vodka.

It doesn’t take the six of them long to finish the bottle. When midnight rolls around, Elias has had time to allow his alcohol addled thoughts to simmer. He can't believe he had hoped today would finally be it. Look at him now! This is so humiliating that he almost feels exposed, knowing that only a flimsy piece of fabric keeps him from being butt naked among these guys.

"Right," Tim says at some point. "I've got an assignment due tomorrow that I need to finish up."

“You mean due today,” Peter points out, and the others laugh. Elias rolls his eyes.

Tim’s departure is their cue to go as well, but Elias stays behind (perhaps due to some remaining fool’s hope). He knocks back whatever vodka is left in his cup and puts it aside, savoring defeat. He stands up.

"Well, I don't suppose you have another bottle hiding somewhere, so I guess I'll be going too."

Peter smiles. "I don't, but I don't believe that would help you."

"What do you mean?"

Peter scoots to the edge of the bed.

"I'm just saying you look as constipated now as when you first came in."

Elias can't help but laugh, and Peter’s grin widens.

"You have yourself to thank for that."

"Oh? What did I do?"

Should Elias tell him? Should he really dig a deeper hole for himself? Well, fuck it, he’s here already. And to make it worse, he is just on this side of drunk.

"Better yet, what you didn't do. Are you daft or what?! I thought I've been quite clear up until now. 'Something to help you relax'. Bullshit. You're full of bullshit, Lukas."

Peter's frown only lasts a second before realisation hits him, followed by the same old amusement. If Elias didn't spend most of his time wanting to blow the guy, he would've punched Peter in the throat.

"Oh god..." Peter says.

Elias clenches his jaw and juts out his chin. "Took you long enough," he spits out, but Peter's caught up on something else.

"You're not- You're not wearing anything under that, are you?"

Elias does his best not to wobble, but the wave of dizziness that hits him is real; his stomach sinks. He had somehow forgotten that fact.

"What if I’m not?!" He growls defensively. Why should he be the one to feel embarrassed when Peter was literally an oaf? "Hell, I'm out of here."

"Hold on," Peter calls, because Elias essentially bolts for the door. Elias pauses with a hand on the handle.

Peter sighs audibly.

"I figured. I mean, I had a pretty good guess when you kept showing up all commando, but I thought 'hey maybe the guy needs more room down there',” he snickers.

"Fuck you, Lukas."

"Sorry. I know."

What he says next is something Elias never thought he'd hear.

"Let me make it up to you."

Elias turns around with both arms crossed. Peter beckons him closer with a no-nonsense look.

Elias goes. Apparently, he's just that stupid for this man. He doesn't know what it is about this Lukas guy that has him betraying every single one of his self-preservation rules, but he finds himself breaking them more often than not. Maybe it's that gentle voice that Peter never raises, or the sharp wits and strong build. Perhaps it's the fact that even after a year, Elias hasn't managed to learn any more about him than that.

Peter is a mystery, and Elias is nothing if not curious.

Elias stands in front of Peter, who leans back a little in bed.

"Hell, you are pretty to look at."

Elias only raises his eyebrows. As if he didn't know.

"Come on. A man has to play safe."

"Don't bore me with politics, that's your family’s business."

Though, if he was being honest, the praise did feel good.

Peter smirks. "Take your top off."

"Pardon?"

"You want this, don't you?"

Elias ponders for a moment. Yes, he very much does, even if he's angry. The setting isn't great, so he'll have to work with what he has. He only wishes that Peter weren't so smug about it, because it's making Elias want to make him regret it.

When Elias goes to take it off, Peter tells him that there's no rush. His voice is calm, but the command is clear enough.

Elias takes a deep breath to ground himself and throws the sweatshirt next to Peter. Elias knows that he paints quite a picture even if he isn't ripped or anything; he still has a bit of a tan from his last vacation, and Peter eats it all up: from the eye tattoo on the centre of his stomach, to the tiny studs piercing both his nipples.

"Nice," Peter says.

"I know."

Peter smiles at him and Elias takes note. So he enjoys show offs. Well, good for them both, Elias had never been the shy type.

"Put a hand in your trousers," Peter tells him.

It's clear that Peter wants a show. Elias can sympathise, for he himself enjoys a bit of watching, too.

Elias doesn't get to do it much these days, but whenever the bathrooms are empty, he pulls himself off in front of the mirror. He knows exactly what to do to make it good, and the risk of getting caught has him coming harder and faster than usual.

He slides both hands down his chest and abdomen, keeping one at the waistband of his joggers while the other disappears beneath the fabric and takes hold of himself. He's half-hard and every one of his motions is clear, so he takes his time.

It doesn't feel good at first. The build up has been all wrong, and the fact that his hands are cold and dry doesn't help. But then he takes one look at Peter and the thrill of being watched sparks it all to life.

Peter doesn’t take his eyes off of him; his own hand is working in his trousers. He's big, Elias notes, and the thought has him fully hard in seconds. It doesn’t take long for a wet spot to form on the front of his joggers.

When Peter tells him to stop, Elias obeys, hoping that this is when Peter also has him kneel and put his mouth to work. Instead, Peter asks him to turn around.

"Show me," he demands. "You know how."

Elias slides his trousers down with a sigh. He hears Peter shuffle forward behind him.

Elias would hate it for Peter to miss any details, so he grabs his buttocks and kneads them open, stepping astride to let Peter see it all. Elias a bit damp down there, but he keeps himself shaved as a rule, and that earns him some praise.

"Oh fuck," Peter breathes. "Bend forward a bit."

"Like this?"

Elias doesn't expect an answer. Peter's hand is working fast and from the sound of it, his cock is very wet.

"Yeah, just like that. Put a finger in."

Elias teases, but doesn't. "Can't. Too dry."

Peter curses softly. "Get over here."

Elias is almost shaking with anticipation. He hasn't been eaten out in ages, and he's so here for this.

"You O.K. with spit?" Peter asks.

"Very."

Peter grunts in approval, then spits right onto his hole. Elias lets out a shuddery breath, then slowly works a finger in. It's hard doing it all by himself, and soon his arm gets tired; he flags a bit, lets his head hang.

"You gotta give me something here," he tells Peter. This isn't begging, he tells himself. This is negotiating.

"I know. Fuck."

Elias straightens up and gives Peter a side glance. "Problem?"

"See, usually I don't touch them."

Elias frowns. That's news.

"So you just-"

"I'm not a fan of touching, let's put it that way. And it's enough to just do this. Most of the time, that is."

Elias nods, but there's something to unpack here. "Well, you are turned on. Why isn't it enough?"

Peter's hand, motionless for a while now, withdraws.

"You, I guess."

Elias scoffs. "I'm sorry my asshole isn't to your tastes."

"I haven't tasted you. That's probably why."

Elias has the decency to blush. His heart has never beat so fast with anyone before, but he tells it to get a grip.

"Well I'm right here, aren't I."

Peter takes a deep breath. Elias can almost see the moment that his resolve locks into place.

"C'mere."

Peter doesn't go straight for it. He places both hands on Elias' hips and caresses his sides, making Elias aware of him (as if he isn't already). The act makes goosebumps rise on the skin, and Elias’ cock fills out again.

Peter kisses the low of his back and up his spine, where he can reach from a sitting position; then his cheeks, against which his shallow beard feels rough. Peter sinks his teeth into them, just enough to make it twinge. Just enough to make Elias' cock twitch and invite a hand to wrap around it.

Peter takes his sweet time biting his ass and pulling him off. Elias is ready to drive nails by the time Peter finally makes him bend forward and starts working on his hole. If Elias moans and pushes against his tongue, well, he's only human.

For someone who doesn't like touching, Peter is surprisingly good at this. Instinct or perhaps patience makes him into quite an attentive partner; he'll stick to any actions that elicit a more intense reaction from Elias; it isn't long before Elias loses it and reaches behind himself.

"What are you doing?" Peter rasps.

"I need-" Elias breathes, pushing a finger inside. "Keep going."

Peter does; they work together, establishing a rhythm that feels comfortable for them.

Elias will come from this, that is for sure, but it will take a while to get there. His arm keeps getting tired, which forces him to slow down. If Peter would just- If he'd just-

"Come on, come on," Elias whines in frustration. "Fuck me."

Peter grunts, burying his face deeper into his ass. Elias removes his hand and locks it around Peter's nape with a tight fist in his hair.

That's it, he thinks, and pushes Peter’s hand out of the way to give his cock what it actually needs.

Peter pulls back and sticks a finger inside. The girth of it is a perfect stretch, it makes Elias let out a broken curse and come a little just then.

"Shit, you're so hungry for it," Peter says. "Bet if I put my cock in you, you'll come right away."

Elias smiles at the idea. "Wanna bet?"

Peter snorts. "Another day, yeah. Wanna take my time with you."

"It's a date then."

Peter works his finger deeper, finding Elias' sweet spot.

"Here?" he asks, but the soft whimper that Elias lets out leaves no room for doubt.

Elias bears down on it. "Keep doing that. God, just- oh."

Maybe he had underestimated how turned on he was. He comes, sudden, dripping all over Peter's floor. It's so thick and heavy that Elias is somewhat embarrassed.

"Holding back, have we?" Peter observes.

Elias would kill him if he wasn't thrusting inside him so good.

"You would too if you had a schedule like mine."

Peter hums. "Drop by when you feel like it. It'll be my pleasure to help."

Peter pulls his finger out and stands up. Gently, he brings Elias to himself by the hips.

Elias lets him because fuck, Peter is so warm and large...The way he’s kissing Elias’ nape is sending shivers up his spine. Funny though, it’s almost as if Peter is unsure about it.

"First time doing this?" Elias asks. It couldn't be.

"No. But it's been a while."

Elias hums. Peter's cock is pressing against his ass and that’s quite distracting. "Want some help with that?"

Peter groans and rests his forehead on Elias’ shoulder. "Fuck. Can I- can I come on you? I won't put it in, just rub it against you."

Elias would be very much down to taking Peter all the way if he weren’t so spent. He had come here ready for it, anyway. Right now though, he’d have to make do.

"Sure," Elias says. He shuffles onto bed on his knees, spreads his legs and presses his chest to the mattress, to give Peter full view and access.

"Fuck, you don't hold back, do you?"

"Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours, love."

Peter doesn't hesitate, only pulls his trousers down, holds Elias by the waist and starts rutting against him.

It feels brilliant even after coming. Elias moans into the mattress, getting off on imagining the picture that they must paint.

Peter taps his hole with the tip of his cock, grazes against it. Elias never would’ve thought that Peter was the cursing type, but tonight is proving otherwise.

When Peter comes, Elias can feel it dripping down his balls and onto bed. They're both breathing heavily, but once Peter recovers, he pulls up his trousers and grabs some tissue to wipe Elias.

Elias had half-hoped that Peter would lick him clean, but maybe that was pushing the boundaries a bit too far for a single night.

Elias gets dressed and they face each other. Peter seems awkward — who would've guessed, when he seemed so in charge earlier.

"So," Peter says. "Hope I made it up to you."

"Are you fishing for compliments, Mr. Lukas?"

Peter laughs and scratches the back of his head.

"If I am, will you tell me?"

Elias considers it. "No. Maybe. Say pretty please."

"Goodbye, Elias."

Peter shows him to the door. They don't kiss; that would be a level of sentimentalism that might make Elias gag. That is, any other time it would have. Now though, they say goodbye and Elias goes back to his room wishing that they did.

#my fic #nanda's ramblings #tma #tma fic #lonelyeyes #lonelyeyes fic #lonelyeyes fanfiction #jonah magnus #peter lukas #elias bouchard #peterelias

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literaryfic · 3 years

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Chapters: 5/? Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, vincenzo leaves, set five years after he left sk, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, vincenzo and cha-young are exes, they were in a relationship before, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, Exes, Getting Back Together, Not Canon Compliant, i wrote this before ep 20, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut

Summary: Oh, how Cha-young wishes she could forget the past five years. Now that her anger has faded, she remembers clearly why she sealed herself in it; after anger comes sorrow, something she’s not sure she can overcome.

And just like the never-ending revolution of the Earth around the Sun causes the perpetual change of seasons — when flowers bloom after the frost melts and Spring follows Winter —, Cha-young finds herself knocking on Vincenzo’s door. They were two supernovas meant to collide and, although Cha-young wasn’t quite sure whether the impact would annihilate them or create a new form of life, she didn’t care.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Park Joo-hyung?”

He opens the door, letting her in. She marches on, the door closing in a thump behind her. She turns to face him, his jaw is set. Both of them follow the familiar steps of a tango they’ve danced before, playing the part of an opera they know the end to.

“How dare you threaten and intimidate someone close to me?” She screams.

“Is that what he told you? Did he mention the phone call—”

“This has nothing to do with your behaviour!”

“Of course it fucking has, Cha-young-ah” Vincenzo is losing his temper too, and for the first time since they’ve met again, he’s yelling.“That bastard’s cheating on you, for fuck’s sake! Did you just expect me to pretend I didn’t hear anything? I thought you said we should be friends. That’s what friends do.”

“Whether he’s cheating on me or not, that’s none of your business. And I take it back, I don’t want to be your friend, I don’t want to be your anything. Leave me alone.” Cha-young’s index finger is pointing at him, and suddenly she realises how close they’ve gotten in the heat of their argument. She’s flushed, anger shading her cheeks red.

“You’re the one who came to me.” He whispers.

She can feel his breath on her face, and it’s taking everything in her to not look at his lips. His intoxicating scent is making her feel dizzy. She bites the inside of her cheek, the sharp pain bringing her back to her senses. She takes a step back.

“Because you think you can just waltz into my life as you please, Vincenzo.” She’s not looking at him anymore, the edge in her voice softened.

“If that were true, we both know very well that your little boyfriend would be dead by now.” His lips curl. His tone might be playful but she’s not sure he doesn’t mean it.

He’s looking at her and Cha-young knows he’s trying to make peace. He’d never liked to argue with her in the past, and he especially hated screaming matches. To everyone else, Vincenzo was intransigent, intimidating or even frightening. However, during their relationship, and although he’d been stubborn, he’d always been strangely compromising. She started the fights and he ended them. He would crack a joke, apologise and kiss her hand. He would burrow his face in her neck, wrap his arms around her waist and mouth ‘Forgive me’ against her skin. She’d feign resistance until he’d start tickling her. Then, they’d laugh together, forgetting about why they fought in the first place.

Oh, how Cha-young wishes she could forget the past five years. Now that her anger has faded, she remembers clearly why she sealed herself in it; after anger comes sorrow, something she’s not sure she can overcome. Submerged by a wave of melancholy, she can’t hold back the truth anymore.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Vincenzo’s eyes widen, he’s stunned. A few seconds pass, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything, so she goes on. “I lied. I’m here with my employees, he’s my personal assistant.”

Finally, the weight of her words strikes him. “Why did you lie to me?” He asks quietly, his face unreadable. Was it so foolish of her to search for relief in his eyes?

She swallows the lump in her throat. “What, so you could see how pathetic I was without you?”

There it is.

In a few seconds, the man she loved would realise she’d always been nothing more than an empty shell on the shore, discarded by the seas. All her life, Cha-young had been abandoned by the people she cherished. Whether it was intentional or not, it seemed that no one stuck around for long. Contrary to what one might think, her father had been the first one to go. He’d stayed out late, prioritised his clients over his family and avoided them. Then, her mom had gone, her loss altering Cha-young’s life and identity so profoundly she had began to think of herself as split in two — pre-death Cha-young, the one who had been naïve and hopeful, and post-death Cha-young, the jaded and bitter adult who had designed her life around self-preservation. Later, when her dad passed away, abandoning her for the second time, she had promised herself that she wouldn’t let anyone leave ever again. She had wanted to protect those around her: the tenants, Babel’s victims’ families, the innocent.

Slowly, her partnership with Vincenzo turned into something deeper, into something more. She’d prepared herself, readying her heart; he would leave soon. But everything changed when he sealed the promise of forever with a kiss— or so she thought. Cha-young realised a heartbeat too late that she had mistaken an oath of love for an act of war; she had taken him prisoner, put him in shackles and thrown away the key.

Odysseus, the legendary hero set on an epic journey, had accidentally landed on Ogygia, and Calypso, the troubled nymph, had fallen in love with him. How could she not, when he was strong and beautiful, and she was lonely in her exile? She had held him captive as long as she could, but she had no claim over him, and the devastating sadness she had felt after he had escaped was laughable. He had deserted her, the last remains of their love piercing her heart like shards of glass.

“You’re not pathetic.” Vincenzo said firmly, interrupting her thoughts.

Cha-young turned away from him. “Drop it.”

“No. None of this is your fault, Cha-young-ah.” He closed the distance between them, and she could feel him right behind her. “I wanted to tell you later but— I legally changed my name to Park Joo-hyung. Wanna know why?”

“Because it was obnoxiously hard to pronounce?” Her attempt at diversion doesn’t work.

Instead, Vincenzo grips her arms and presses his forehead against her shoulder blades. She’s still not facing him, compelling herself to not look at him or touch him or feel him against her.

“I hated it so much that just hearing it made me sick. I hated myself, Cha-young-ah. Not because of the murders, the torture or all the atrocities I’ve committed— no.” He laughs wryly. “It’s because of what I did to you. Leaving you is the one sin I can’t seem to forgive myself for. And that is pathetic.”

She holds her breath. One. Two. Three. She faces him. Red eyes, hollow cheeks, desperation carving deep lines on his forehead. He looks like a tormented devil.

“What do you want, Vincenzo?” Cha-young whispers, an echo of the past.

Slowly, he locks his eyes on her. Those eyes, she thinks, they’re back.

“To repent.”

One. Two. Three. Cha-young grabs his face and kisses him. At first, Vincenzo stays still, hesitant. She’s about to break the kiss, reality catching up to her, when he opens his mouth and slips his tongue in hers. His hands grip her waist, bringing her closer, bringing her in. Her heart is beating so loudly she can’t hear herself think — or maybe she gave up on thoughts, and now she only feels. She feels him flush against her, she feels his hands; they burn her, leaving the imprint of him all over her body. God, how she had missed him.

There is no romance between them, only a visceral need to possess each other again. Soon enough, they’re on the bed, Cha-young on his lap, her hands pulling his hair so hard he hisses. Vincenzo bites her lower lip as retaliation and she rolls her hips against his erection, staring at him. He moans, head thrown back. Cha-young’s right hand cups his jaw firmly, making sure he’s looking at her. She wants to watch him fall apart, unravel under her touch.

“Take off your clothes.” What she asks, he does — rather awkwardly, she has to move off of him as he gets up, discarding his clothes on the ground without a care. He gets back on the bed from which she’d been watching him strip, lying next to her, completely naked. Their five years apart have somehow made him hotter, his upper body more toned, his biceps firmer. She counts a total of six or seven new scars, one of them still pink-ish and swollen. She reaches out, her finger following the gash running from his navel to his lower abdomen. He gasps when she doesn’t stop where the scar does — she continues on her way, surely, and takes him in her hand.

Vincenzo’s heavy breathing guides her movements, telling her when to stroke faster, when to slow down, when to twist. She stops right before he’s about to come, and the frustration in his eyes turns her on more than anything her last fling ever did.

“Don’t stop.” He asks, going in for a kiss.

Cha-young puts her hand on his mouth, “Tonight, I’m in charge, Joo-hyung-ah.”

His eyes light up and he smiles, “Yes, ma’am.”

Slipping out of her dress in no time, she climbs on top of him, taking his hands in hers and putting them above his head. There’s something thrilling about having him at her mercy, vulnerable under her. He’s hard against her thigh, and although he’s not talking, she hears his silent plea. Slowly, she sits on his cock, savouring the pleasant stretch; he feels so good, and her so full, at last.

“Oddio!” On his lips, God’s name becomes a curse.

She keeps a slow pace, it takes time to revisit a long-lost lover after all. She rolls her hips, turns, bounces. Once she’s figured out how to pleasure herself, she moves faster. Closing her eyes, she frees his left hand and puts it on her breast. Vincenzo is nothing if not an eager disciple trying to prove his worth, and so he caresses her enthusiastically, his thumb brushing against her hardened nipple. What a good boy, she thinks, before pressing her body against his, engulfing him in a kiss.

His hand finds her hair, cascading down her naked back. She kisses him everywhere — his lips, his cheeks, his neck. She needs to have him whole, to consume all of him, so she can keep him in her forever. She feels a familiar warm building up inside of her, but she’s not ready for it to be over yet. She stops bouncing on him abruptly and his eyes fly open, irked. She intertwines their fingers, and whispers, “Look at me.” Once again, he obeys her command, his eyes roaming her face, her breasts, her thighs. They go up and down, taking her in, devouring her. She feels hot under his gaze, and she picks up the pace. He parts his mouth, whimpering faintly. He thrusts back into her hard, and they find the right rhythm. Soon enough, Cha-young is there, right there, a white-hot flash of pleasure overwhelming all her senses.

“Cazzo!” He must have come too then. Fuck, indeed.

Cha-young is still on top of him, Vincenzo still inside of her. She rests her head against his chest, their flushed skin sticky with sweat. He’s playing with her hair absentmindedly, still trying to catch his breath. She looks up at him, and they kiss again, but this time it’s different. She feels it all, his longing, how much he’s missed her, how scared he is that this is all a dream. In this moment, she can’t tell where she ends and where he starts. She’s never been closer to him, never understood him as much as she does now.

Were the tears on her lips hers or his? The time for questions will come later, right now there’s only them, together — an ever-lasting moment they stole from the Fates.

#vincenzo #chayenzo #chayenzo fic #my fic #vincenzo fic

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iceshard1011 · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders Characters: Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Additional Tags: pre janus' photoshoot, he had no right looking that gorgeous okay, yeah literally got inspired by the fact that janus and roman wore the same lipstick, could be romantic or platonic, Insecurity, Self Confidence Issues, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, who is only mentioned once, Making Up, (kind of), Hopeful Ending, Guilt, Makeover, In which i call myself a multishipper and then continuously go nuts over roceit, Ro goes from confused himbo to romance expert way too fast, and that's bias for you, Listen just because janus is self preservation doesn't mean he's got good self esteem, Janus ‘self care’ sanders: what is makeup, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship Summary:

Janus needs to get ready for his turn for that stupid photoshoot idea Thomas offered him. He’s not exactly looking for help, but he gets it anyway.

And… maybe something more.

2k word fic under the cut :)

The mindscape hadn’t seen much of it’s self-proclaimed prince lately. It was painfully noticeable, given the halls weren’t being deafened by singing, and no one was as challengeable or as willing to bicker as much anymore. Patton’s smile was just this side of strained at breakfast. Logan would look up, eyes sparkling and eyebrow half-raised, the beginnings of something on his tongue before he would remember there was no one to say it to. Virgil kept sneaking sideways glances towards the staircase, as if no one could see him.

Not that Janus was bothered, of course. He had always preferred peace and quiet over chaos. He had just… become slightly acclimated to it during his years with Remus.

Except… it did make things exceptionally difficult when Janus needed something.

Even more so when he didn’t know exactly what it was he wanted.

Janus tried not to curl his lip too much as he stared at his reflection. Stupid sides and stupid Thomas and his followers and his own stupid thoughts. This looked wrong and felt wrong and Janus was a few seconds away from burning this damn —

An opening door. It creaked slightly, not enough that it was Virgil’s, but certainly not Logan’s. It was opened hesitantly, not something that Patton would have much reason for. Perfect.

Janus stuck to the shadows as he slunk down the hallway. It was unnecessary, as had been prefaced many times by the others — even Virgil had caught him at one point, in the middle of slithering silently into the kitchen for something to drink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Virgil had said. “You’re allowed to get something to eat.” (Janus had not pointed out that his throat had been parched and itching for water from a dying scream after flashing images had raped his sleeping mind.) “Plus, you look ridiculous skulking behind furniture like that, anyway.” Janus had flicked his tongue at him and left to get his water.

Roman hesitated at the top of the stairs before slowly making his way down. Janus didn’t know what he was looking for, but it didn’t seem to deter him. Once he was out of sight, Janus shot into his room, the door still creaking open.

What did he need? What was he going to need to put on? What were the requirements of this stupid activity?

He didn’t even know what he wanted. What would help? What would cover up enough that he fit the unspoken, stupid critera for these damn photos? What did foundation do? Would it dry his skin out? He was not in the mood to deal with brittle scales.

Lipstick. Roman had used lipstick in his photoshoot.

Janus shot forward and grabbed the first one of the display rack.

“Stealing now, are you?”

Janus whirled around, thankfully crushing the rather embarrassing squeak before it could escape.

“Oh, absolutely,” he purred, but the not-lie was immediately evident the moment Roman’s angry eyes trailed down to the lipstick clenched in his fist.

“You sly little —” The prince marched forward, face twisted dangerously, and despite himself, Janus found himself stepping backwards.

Roman wasn’t violent. He was brash, and impulsive, and when he pulled his sword on whatever startled him, but he had never, not once, used physical aggression to prove a point.

Janus found it hard to believe he would start now, but… Roman had never been driven to such a point before now.

And Janus was the reason.

It was when he had stalked close enough that their height differences were clear enough that under normal circumstances, Janus would be rather annoyed (now, however, he was only focusing on keeping his breath calm and his gaze level), that Roman seemed to notice the way Janus was dressed.

“What are you wearing?” he uttered, suddenly sounding far more confused than mad.

“Something that was certainly all my idea,” Janus hissed, waiting for the disbelieving eyebrow raise, for the look that said You? Really? Waiting, as tense as he had ever been, for more laughing.

Roman did nothing except manage to look even more lost. “Oh.”

Janus wasn’t sure if he felt irritated or guilty at the prince’s crestfallen look.

Irritated, apparently, as his thoughts began to hiss.

Oh, terribly sorry that I’ve been accepted like the rest of you. My apologies that I aim to help Thomas just like everyone else in this damn place. I am so sorry that for whatever godforsaken reason they asked me to put on these ridiculous —

“Well, hurry up and finish the look,” Roman said, as if resigning himself to a fate that no one asked him to.

Janus blinked at him.

Roman summoned a hand-held mirror and held it out towards him.

Janus didn’t quite say ‘what the hell’ — but it was close.

Roman seemed smart enough to read the baffled look on his face. “You can apply it here so I can be assured you will hand it back when you are done. I can’t trust someone like you to return it otherwise.”

“I’m sure you can replace a single stick,” Janus said, just slightly scathingly.

Roman didn’t seem discouraged. He expectantly held the mirror out further.

Janus’ stomach was writhing uncomfortably. He kept his face carefully blank, loath to betray how distasteful he found this, and glared at the mirror. He ignored the bemused look Roman gave him when he struggled with uncapping the lid, and fought against the slight tremors in his hand.

He didn’t get very far before Roman, looking absolutely scandalized, reared back like a startled horse. Janus paused when his mirror was yanked away and glared up at the prince.

“I would appreciate a limited amount of interruptions,” he began but Roman had already dumped the mirror and darted forward to snatch the lipstick from his hand. “Hey!”

“Why did you try applying it like that?” he cried. Janus shuffled, bewildered.

“I know exactly what you’re —”

“No, no,” Roman interrupted, waving his hands. “No. Stop. Come here.”

Janus bared his teeth. “Why?”

“You look like you’ve never applied makeup a day in your life,” Roman said, and suddenly Janus didn’t have any quips to reply with. Roman squinted. “You’ve never used makeup?”

“Because I have always had a reason to,” Janus snapped. Roman raised his hands, which surprised him.

“Right.” The prince beckoned again, but Janus remained rooted. What on earth was the moron trying to achieve?

Roman seemed to pick up on his hesitance, and leaned forward, quietly scrutinizing. Janus bit back on a snarl.

“When’s the shoot?” Roman asked.

“What?” Janus said, slightly more harsh than he intended.

“The photoshoot,” Roman clarified.

“Whenever I want,” Janus snapped.

Roman, rather than retorting, or recoiling, lit up. “Perfect!”

Janus slunk backwards. “What are you playing at, White Knight?”

A flash of confusion danced in Roman’s eyes for a split second before he lost himself in his excitement once more.

“Your makeup, Phantom of the Opera!” he shrilled, bouncing over to his vanity and pulling out the chair. “I’ll do it for the photoshoot! Come, sit, sit!” Janus narrowed his eyes. He didn’t move. Roman faltered. “Or… or not. I don’t —”

“Why?” Janus interjected.

“You can’t get dressed up without a little makeup,” Roman said with a smile.

“The others did,” Janus pointed out, but Roman waved him off.

“It’s imperative to feel good when you should be looking good!” He began to dig around in his draws, pulling out a variety of brushes and different coloured palettes. Janus didn’t know what any of them were for.

“What are you implying?” he asked slowly.

Roman paused long enough to level him with a skeptical look. “You, who came in here for makeup and got caught red handed… are trying to ask what I am getting at?”

Janus glared at him.

Roman gestured to the chair once more. “Sit.”

Sulking, Janus sat.

Roman studied him carefully for a moment before beginning to sort through his ridiculously large assortments of strange… makeup… things.

The prince started slowly, using an odd, coloured sponge, but Janus still flinched when the first cold sensation started to plaster his face.

Roman pulled back as well. “Sorry. Here, this is primer. It’s kind of like moisturiser.”

Janus’s tongue flicked in and out for a moment in consideration. Coming to a decision, he forced himself to sit still and allow Roman to start again. He must have realised Janus was still not entirely comfortable with this setting, so he began to offer what each tool was and what it did as he applied it to Janus’ face.

Primer, foundation, ‘concealer,’ whatever the hell that was…

It was quiet for a few minutes while Janus let Roman work before he finally had to speak.

“You’re… not doing my other side.”

Roman didn’t pause, moving to pick a different brush and palette. “Your scales?” he asked, focusing on where he was working. Janus found the lack of eye contact oddly comforting.

“Why aren’t you covering them up?” Janus asked.

Roman did halt, then, and lowered the brush. He frowned slightly. “Why would I want to?”

The earnest in his voice made Janus falter. The prince’s genuine confusion made his chest feel impossibly wide and too warm. Roman had already resumed his work, completely clueless to what he’d done.

You fucking himbo, Janus thought.

“Close your eyes for me,” Roman instructed. Janus frowned at him. Roman didn’t seem to understand that kind of action required an amount of trust that Janus certainly did not have for him yet. He elaborated with a beseeching, “Please?”

Janus’ eyes closed.

He could tell Roman was pleased when he got back to work. “Keep your eyes relaxed, but don’t open them, unless you want a bunch of brush bristles where they should not be.”

“Pleasant,” Janus remarked.

“Very,” Roman agreed sagely. Janus bit down the smirk.

It was quiet again, apart from Roman beginning to hum the beginnings of a song. Janus didn’t recognise it, and he wasn’t even sure Roman knew he was doing it. But it wasn’t unpleasant, so Janus let it be. The lack of silence was comforting against any awkwardness that could have remained.

Eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara.

Eventually, Roman leaned back, and beamed. “There.” He held up another — how many did he have? — handheld mirror. “Look!”

Janus looked.

Roman’s smile softened as he glanced between Janus’ face and his reflection. “You like it.” It wasn’t a question.

“How do you know?” Janus asked.

“I didn’t push any blush on your cheeks.”

Janus didn’t point out that Roman had moved his hand to Janus’ knee and it was burning through the skirt, but sure. Janus could agree that he didn’t hate the look Roman had given him.

Roman’s eyes scanned over Janus’ face once more, and this time Janus matched his gaze unwaveringly. A smile twitched at Roman’s lips, and the prince jumped.

“Oh! Almost forgot the whole reason this happened!” He twisted around and turned back, jabbing the lipstick at Janus’ face. It was jolting, and Janus jerked backwards against his own will. “Sorry, sorry.” Roman held a hand. “Come here, come back. I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Janus remained still as Roman lined his lips with the paint. The fingers pressed to the edge of his jawline rendered him rather useless against his instincts, anyway.

Roman’s eyebrows twitched downward for a second. He must have made a mistake, because he moved to carefully swipe a finger at the edge of Janus’ lips.

Goddamn it, this was such a mistake.

Janus swallowed.

Finally, after way too long how slow do you apply lipstick, Roman pulled back, seeming satisfied.

“Now you're ready for a photoshoot,” he decided.

Janus glanced back to his reflection. He still had some of his own details to add, but… yes. Janus could almost agree.

Roman went back to sorting through his various makeup supplies. Janus felt a little transfixed with the deft movements of the prince, how certain he moved, how he knew where everything needed to be. A confidence Janus had failed to see in… a very, very long time.

A sharp laugh, vicious and hurtful, the lie doing nothing to soften the blow —

Janus stood abruptly, the chair wobbling against the carpet. Roman glanced up. He seemed to remember where they had been before Janus’ makeover, and for a moment his eyes darkened. Janus braced himself for another argument.

Then Roman’s shoulders relaxed and he tilted his head. “Have fun,” he said. Then, after a moment, added, “You’ll kill it.”

Janus halted at the doorway before he could flee, taken off guard. He glanced down at the prince, who gifted him a small smile.

Janus didn’t smile back. He turned to study the doorway framework. “It would certainly be rather… dismal if you came down for dinner at some point tonight. Presumably, at the same time as everyone else.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, truly?” he said. His voice was warm.

Janus sighed theatrically. “Oh, I don’t know. I couldn't argue if you were to try to prove me wrong.”

Roman tossed his head. “Watch it, Noodles. You don’t want to defy a knight.”

“Perhaps not,” Janus mused, regarding a chip in the doorway’s wood. “But a hero never backs down from a challenge.”

He didn’t wait to see Roman’s expression. He wisped away down the hallway without looking back, without seeing what he could have just done.

Like a coward.

He may have just made things worse. He could have reversed everything that odd makeup session had built. He was well aware of the fact that if that was the case he should have kept his mouth shut.

But oddly, Roman’s silence hadn’t seemed heavy. He hadn’t tensed. He hadn’t shouted, or scowled, or slammed the door in Janus’ face.

Granted, Janus hadn’t given him a chance to, but…

As he slid into his room and quietly closed the door behind him, he didn’t feel horrible. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Now. He set his gaze on his closet, still open and waiting. Where was his hat?

#sanders sides #roceit #janus sanders #roman sanders #long post #cross posted on ao3 #inspired by twitter #sanders sides fic #angst #janus is a sad boy #fluff #hopeful ending #literally someone has probably already done this #so. those skirt pics huh.#janus is unfairly pretty

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