#i am in AWE of people who write smut like it's not the most stressful thing ever

[thought--bubble]

Like A Dream

Tom Bennett X (Pregnant Wife Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Tom Bennett Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Based on THIS request

Banners by @arcielee

A/N: Writing this came so naturally to me. I had my daughter young and was looking my best right before I got pregnant, so I used personal experience for this one 🥰 also I did an abnormal amount of research regarding the rarity of grapes during this time period and how special it would be for someone to find them available for purchase 🤣🤣

Warnings:: Body Dysmorphia, pregnancy, minor depression,smut, oral sex (F receiving)

"You alright love?" Your husband asks from his place on the sofa as you walk through the front door.

You sigh. "Yes, Tom," you carry the few bags with food you picked up from the market and place them on the kitchen counter.

Ever since Tom found out you were pregnant, he fawns over you. He hates the idea of you lifting a finger in your delicate condition. The problem? You are a very independent person and like your freedom.

"Not too convincing." he rises from the couch and goes to the counter, peeking through the bags to see what you bought.

"Mmmm, they had grapes!" He plucks a grape off the vine and pops it into his mouth.

"Tom!" You playfully hit his arm."They should be washed first! You don't know who had their hands all over em before I bought em!"

"I survived war, love." He leans his back against the counter. "Don't think a grape is gonna do me in when bombs couldn't"

"Yeah, well, they can still make ya sick, and I'm already sick every morning. Can't have the two of us going. " You huff and sit down in one of the old creaky wooden chairs that sit around the scuffed up second-hand table you successfully purchased off a neighbor about a year ago.

"Hey...." He leans down towards you and pushes your hair back. "You're tired and stressed, darlin. Let me take care of this, yeah?"

"I can do it." You grumble, annoyed, and try to pull yourself from the seat, but your near end of term pregnancy belly made standing an incredibly challenging endeavor.

Tom gives you a stern look. "More stubborn than I am." He gives you that cheeky smile, and you playfully roll your eyes.

"That's not possible" Tom is the most stubborn person on the planet as far as you were concerned and you know for a fact that even on your worst day you couldn't possibly be more stubborn than the man you married.

"Ah! I always knew ya married me for my looks." He wiggles his eyebrows at you as he unloads the groceries.

"What can I say? You got me with those blue eyes, and that smile." You look at him lovingly. You married him for a million reasons. He had pursued you relentlessly for weeks before you finally caved and went out with him. You didn't have any reason you made him wait other than thoroughly enjoying watching him try to convince you of something you already wanted desperately.

"Thank God for my parents! They gave me the good stuff!" He chuckles loudly, and you watch him in awe. Tom had this aura about him. He exudes confidence. Tom is handsome. He knows it, and he embraces it. You hardly ever see him without a smile on his face, and he takes almost nothing seriously.

You sigh to yourself as you move to try and pull yourself out of the chair again. Pregnancy is a magical thing. You know this. You feel it, yet you can't help the way it has you feeling about the body it leaves behind.

Your face is fuller. Something people have been complimenting you on, yet you hate it. Your hips are wider, and your already plump thighs have somehow grown bigger.

The discomfort with the changes in your body started gradually, but as you near the end of your pregnancy, less and less do you like what stares back at you in the mirror.

The tears start to well up in your eyes as you fight a losing battle to hold them back.

"Hey..hey! What is going on, love?" Tom crouches before you cupping your cheeks on either side of your face. He furrows his brows in obvious concern. "Talk to me," he gently rubs his thumb against your cheekbone. His heart breaks a little as he looks into your tear filled eyes. Upset with himself that you are this sad, and he didn't notice until now.

You take in a shakey breath and look at him with despair. "I'm a terrible mum, and the baby isn't even here yet." The flood gates break open, and tears finally start to pour down your face.

"W-why... why would you say that?" He scootches closer to you, placing his hands on either side of your thighs and rubbing his hands up and down.

"I should be happy! A good mother would be happy, but..." The tears are pouring out of your face now, the sadness, guilt, and shame bubbling over and making you feel like you have lost complete control over your emotional state.

"But what, sweetheart?" He drops down to his knees, pushing himself between your legs while he continues to caress your thighs. "You can talk to me, oh darlin, please talk to me."

"I ... I ... I ... I hate it!" You start to sob your face in your hands. "I'm tired, everything aches, it's difficult to move, and all that would be bearable if .... if i didn't look so disgusting now"

"Disgusting??" Tom balks at the statement. "Someone say something to you?" His face contorts in anger. "Was that Mike arse three doors down, wasn't it?" Tom nearly growls. "That's about how much he hates me nothing to do with you, darlin. I'll go sort him." Tom shoots up quickly, tossing on his jacket.

"TOM!" You screech just as he is about to fly out the front door, most likely to rearrange Mike's face. Mike and Tom do not like each other it is certainly not a secret in your neighborhood. Yet Mike has never been anything but pleasant to you. After all, his issue was with Tom, and he wasn't going to take that out on you for simply being Tom's wife.

"No one said anything to me, I have eyes! And a mirror! I can see it clearly for myself!" His heart shatters completely when he hears the crack in your voice, his jaw drops, and he wants to retort but quickly stops himself. The priority is you. He needs to take care of you, so as aggravated as he is, he softens his features and turns back to you.

He drops his jacket on the back of one of the other kitchen chairs and takes your hand. "Let's get you into bed, you need rest" You sniffle and nod as he places your hand in his, while gently holding your lower back with the other making sure to get you out of the chair in the most comfortable way possible.

Once you're up and walking, he wraps an arm around you, gently leading you up the stairs and into the bedroom . He helps you get into the bed, raising your legs and sliding them in before crawling in next to you, his face directly across from yours as you both lay on your side facing each other.

"Thank you," your whisper is gentle with a hint of lingering sadness as he reaches over and caresses right under your eye with his thumb.

"You. are. beautiful." He moves closer to you and puts his forehead against yours "Always".

You chuckle slightly. "You are a good husband, Tom Bennett." You lean forward and kiss him gently.

He pulls back from you, cupping your face in his hands. "Look at me"

You look him directly in the eyes. Yours are still a bit watery, so you try to blink back the tears.

"You. are. beautiful." He repeats."You are always beautiful, don't you ever forget that. Big, pregnant, bald even, you are always beautiful"

You giggle and sigh. "You're too good to me"

"Aven't been good enough love. Or you wouldn't feel like this. " He kisses you softly but deeply while gently rolling you onto your back.

"Been neglectin' ya. Work and allat." He kisses down your neck."I'll make it up."

You hum contentedly and place your hand on the back of his head. Arousal builds up in your core, but you're so tired you don't know if you have it in you right now.

"Don't know if I have the energy for this right now." You chuckle as you close your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of him on your neck.

"Just lie back and relax. This is all about you"

He moves down your body, placing a delicate kiss to your belly before pushing your dress up around your hips.

"Oh Tom, you don't have to do this." You say as he pulls your knickers down your legs.

" I wish I did have to do it. Wish it was an everyday requirement, but I guess I have to settle for doing it when you'll let me. " He brings his hands to your heat, pushing your legs out wider.

"Stunning site, really,"

"Tom!" You chuckle and reach down to give him a whack, but he catches your hand and holds it.

He licks a stripe straight up your center. Your hand squeezes his tight, letting him know the pleasure that is building up.

He gently flicks your bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, bringing his free hand to your hip and rubbing circles there with his thumb.

You involuntarily move your hips, desperate for more friction. "You're supposed to be relaxin," he taunts

He returns to your clit swallowing it whole and sucking on it harshly while rolling his tongue over it.

"Oh god, Tom!" You can't help but yell out, your hips taking on a mind of their own as you move against his face.

He smiles against you as he releases your clit nudging it with his nose as he travels lower lapping up your juices before sticking his tongue inside.

Your eyes fly open as you look at the ceiling above you, panting harshly. If someone asked you your name right now, you wouldn't even know the answer. Your head is completely empty of everything, save for the pleasure you are experiencing.

His brings his hand off your hip, the other still grasping your hand tightly. He rubs at your clit with his thumb as he fucks you with his tongue.

"Ahhh. Ahh!" You squeeze his hand tightly as you writhe against his face, getting closer and closer to sweet release.

His hand and tongue switch places as he slides two fingers into you while sucking on your engorged nerve.

"Oh my god, Tom, I can't. I can't!" You don't know what you can't do. You just know that you can't.

He pulls back momentarily. " Oh yes, you can love, and ya will"

He brings his face back to your heat moving it from side to side over your clit while he increases the speed of his fingers.

Everything that happens now is automatic. Your legs lift up and squeeze his head as you arch your back and gasp for air as a title wave of pleasure washes over you.

Tom gives you a few more kitten licks as you ride out your high and stops when you start to twitch.

he crawls back up next to you and flops on his back, panting. "You're. .....beautiful.... don't.... ever... doubt .... that" he rolls onto his side and gazes at your face. "Promise me"

"I promise I'll try Tom." He knows that is the best answer he is going to get out of you so he just smiles.

"While we're talking about promises, I need you to make just one more tiny promise," he grins at you cheekily, sliding his body over so he is right up against yours.

"What?"

He takes your hand and places it over the massive bulge in his trousers

"That you'll help me with this"

To be added to taglist click here

#tom bennett x reader #tom bennett #tom bennet x reader #tom bennet fanfic #tom bennet fanfiction #ewan mitchell verse #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #ewanverse #tom bennett x you #tom bennett smut #jess fics #my cunty bf

[sansaorgana]

It's not caused by any recent situation, I've been thinking about it for a long time now but I have some things to say about fic writing.

Being a fic writer in a fandom might be the most ungrateful "job" in the community. I have lots of gif maker friends and I make mediocre gifs myself so I will compare these two a lot but I want to make it clear I don't want to say fic writers are more important or suffer more or anything like that because I value gif makers more than you can imagine.

– First of all, the whole cringe status around fic writing – especially x reader fanfics – is awful. I often see posts that whine about the fact that these fics even exist. People don't think twice, they just hit "post" and in result they are shaming other people for having innocent and creative hobbies. We spend real time of our real lives writing fics we love for ourselves but also for other people's enjoyment. For free. I really don't want to see posts about how cringe and silly fic writers are just because someone thinks they're superior in a fandom. It's a fucking Tumblr. Also, would you say the same about a person drawing fan art? I don't think so.

– I know there are some gifsets that take literally weeks to make but in most cases fic writing takes more time to create and at the same time it takes more time to consume. It's easy to hit a like or a reblog button under a gifset that you consumed in under a minute just like it's easy to ignore a fanfic because consuming it would take you more time. It's understandable but at the same time, if you read fanfics, reblog them at least. Leave some sort of feedback. Even one word or a reaction image. It really means a lot... And, once again, the lack of reblogs bothers gif makers as well, but I think in the case of fic writing it's mostly caused because y'all ashamed of admitting that you read these fics. Like who the fuck cares? It's not Facebook, no one here knows who you really are, who the fuck cares?

– Speaking of reactions under fics. Being like "Part Two" is considered to be extremely rude. We are not AI bots and we certainly won't force ourselves to write a second part because you demanded it without even commenting on the work itself or hitting a reblog button. If "Part Two" is all you have to say, then it's better to stay quiet.

– Also, readers who comment rudely under fics written for free like ??? So what he's out of character? So what he's a sad little meow meow in the movie but a ray of sunshine in this fic? You are not being forced to read it and there's a whole community of people preferring fluff to angst. If some fic is not your type, just ignore it. I guarantee you, there are other fics that are your type and if there are not, you're welcome to start writing yourself. I've also seen people starting dramas about some details in the smut fics. Like Jesus fucking Christ... Go touch some grass.

– What hurts the most is the prejudice from other content makers. I've seen some posts hating on/mocking fic writers that are coming from gif makers themselves. We're all on the same boat, we create fan art for the media we love. Why do we have to bring each other down? I am aware of the problem of gif stealing in the fic writing community but it mostly is caused by the fact these people don't know how to properly credit gifs with the gif tool. Believe me, most of the fic writers have a huge respect for the gif makers and I wish it went the other way around as well, even if you don't read fanfics, you don't have to be rude about people who do.

– Fan fiction writers are not desperate ugly teenagers locked in their parents' basement. Some of them are mothers, some of them have PhDs, some of them are doctors, some of them are just simple people who want to relax after a stressful day. The same things y'all be thinking of fic writers can be said about any content maker on this site because they also spend hours in front of a computer making fan arts or gifs of their favorite characters.

#sansaorgana's shitpost #*** #fic writing #fan fiction #fan fic writing #fan fic stuff #fan fic things

[seriouslysam8]

i am just gonna say, as someone who used to read your stories more and be on this tumblr more, i notice people don’t talk about that stuff on here anymore. nobody ever mentions the dick sizes. people don’t ask about hinny smut. people only send it canon based questions or send you anonymous asks telling you how much they love everything about you and your story. people got the hint. okay? everyone knows you think they’re all fucking weird for finding that stuff a fun conversation. everyone here wants to support you and wants to be friends with you online but they’re all too fucking scared too make you mad at them or have you not like them for their silly headcanons. i’ve talked to five different people who are all too afraid to talk on this tumblr and stopped reading because they felt like fucking awful people because they didn’t always review and felt too much pressure and stress to actually enjoy the stories anymore. i’m not trying to be mean or start a fight with you. if this is going to be big thing please just delete this ask because nothing annoys me more than the big ask-responses on here when things get all weird and tense and you’re mad and people start fighting invisible insults in the comments and it’s just weird. so don’t even answer if this is gonna cause big problems

but i’m just telling you: your message has been heard. everyone knows you hate them for the fun smut convos and think they are all weird. most people are over it i think and just don’t send asks anymore, it’s mainly the people who talked about it in your comment sections, not as anons, who don’t like showing their face (or username) here anymore. another reason you get so many anons, by the way. nobody wants to hurt your feelings or start an issue or be judged. and the people who’ve already experienced that the most here have left.

everyone loves the headcanon about harry but you don’t and you think they’re all weird and mean. message received. nobody here is gonna talk about it, or ask for hinny smut scenes, or dare read your stories and come on this tumblr if they don’t review all the time. everyone already got the hint, don’t worry.

I don’t think anyone is weird nor do I hate anyone. It’s just not what I write and not what I think about, so those questions were hard for me to answer because I don’t have headcanons. There was a time when I was getting so many that it became exhausting.

If I have ever made anyone upset, that was never my intention. I always thought I responded to people with respect, but I guess I haven’t done that. It saddens me to think people were scared of me because I always thought I was kind and friendly. I always answered all my asks, I always respond to reviews, I always posted sneak peeks when asked, I always gave snippets when asked, I did prompts, I stressed myself out to get chapters up weekly (until recently when I couldn’t take the pressure anymore) and all I asked in return was for a review to let me know you guys liked it. If asking for a minute review is too much to ask for when I’m busting my ass for hours upon hours upon hours makes people stressed out or nervous to the point they don’t read anymore, then I don’t know what to say.

If my personality is what has lost me reviewers and readers, then maybe I shouldn’t post my stories anymore. I’m not saying that to start a big thing, but it’s not worth the mental health issues because this is coming at me from left field. It’s very disheartening because I never thought I was unapproachable. Now, I’m just sad and maybe I just need to take a step back from everything for a long while.

[sflow-er]

Hi Sflow! Hope your having a good writing day :)

May I ask you 14, 30 and 39? (If you don't like or don't feel comfortable with any of these feel free to skip/ignore them).

Thank you!

Hi!! <3 I am, thank you. Lost a bit of time on a couple of unexpected things but most of it has been productive. And these are really interesting questions, thank you so much for the ask! :)

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer?

Honestly? Anything too dark (e.g. abusive relationships), or even just super explicit smut. I generally steer clear of such content, but I might make an exception for a writer who I know is really excellent and/or a close friend. There's also other stuff I don't particularly enjoy, such as love triangles and cheating, so those can sometimes fall into this category too.

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

God yeah. I think everyone who's read 'Other people's secrets' or seen me rambling about it here knows all the stuff about asexuality was extremely personal to me and putting it out there was therefore well out of my comfort zone. It profoundly changed my writing, as I'm no longer afraid of writing about it (or other personal stuff), and I will probably keep doing that in some form.

But I'm sure you'd like to learn something new that was out of my comfort zone to even write, so... I can also reveal that I once wrote kind of graphic smut. I was 18/19 and it felt like the story I was writing needed it and the readers probably expected it - so I went ahead and wrote some, basically just emulating stories I'd seen and read. At the time, I still thought the parts I felt disconnected from would make sense to me one day, and in a way, writing it was fine. It really did fit the story, and the feedback was extremely positive. But I also knew I never wanted to do it again, so all my stories since then have either faded to black or just not included sex at all.

Right now, I'm at a place where I'm open to including sex in some form if the story demands it, but I don't think I'll ever write anything even remotely explicit again.

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who?

Wow, what an interesting question! Maybe my compulsive planning, research and obsession with detail. It's partly inspired by my work as a translator, but I'd say part of it has definitely been affected by authors I've read. I'm sure there are many, but only two come to mind right now.

One of them was an author I don't want to name because she's an awful, toxic, dangerous person. She doesn't deserve the credit, but her ability to hide hints about future events in the series in the early books really impressed me when I was young (it seemed to demonstrate some serious planning). I must stress that I had no idea what she was like, and I was completely blind to all the problematic aspects of the books at the time. I'm sorry to even allude to her now.

On a more positive note, I'd say Don Rosa has also been a pretty big influence! Not sure if you know him, but he's a now-retired comic book artist whose history/adventure stories are some of the most meticulously researched and detailed I've ever enjoyed in any medium. Through that realism, he manages to create levels of suspense, drama, and sometimes even emotional tension that are simply incredible (for example, I get goosebumps just thinking about this one scene set in a burning saloon). This is all particularly impressive because Rosa's protagonist is none other than (a young version of) Disney's Scrooge McDuck! So in a way he's actually a pretty good idol for fanfic writers, haha.

Thank you so, so much for the ask! I hope you're having a lovely night. <3

Ask list for reference.

#ask #scatteredpiecesofme #ask game #fic writing

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Get to know your fic writer numbers: 2, 10, 16, 32, and 55

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go? 

I’m very firmly on the “planner” end of the “planner vs. pantser” spectrum. My multichapter fics all have an outline in a separate doc. It doesn’t have to be super detailed and I’ll also deviate from it if I notice that something isn’t working out as planned. But I do need to have a general idea on where the story is going, how it’s supposed to end and how I wanna get there, or I’ll give myself anxiety attacks. I actually wrote and published the first chapter of Hic sunt dracones without having a complete plot outline down and I nearly peed myself until I figured it out. 🤣

10. Cltr + f “blinks” on your WIP &  copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

The kid is babbling excitedly, but Steve can't make out a word over the deafening roar of his own blood in his ears, needs to swallow and blink violently to focus. 

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Besides Hic sunt dracones, I’m currently working on my fic for the Steddie Big Bang, which I obviously can’t talk about yet. 😏 Apart from that, my To Write list contains four ideas right now, which are in various stages of being fleshed out. 

One of them is a modern AU in which Steve owns a restaurant and tries to seduce Eddie through food. Eddie, who thinks that putting grated cheese on top of your SpaghettiOs is haute cuisine. Or, alternatively: Steve soft doms Eddie into basic self care. (It would most probably be Eddie’s pov, which is a first for me, so I’m a bit nervous about it.)

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers. 

That’s a tough one. There’s so many amazing fics by so many incredibly talented writers out there and I don’t get around to reading half as much as I wanna in the little free time I have. That being said … 

Azriel Green's fame is well deserved. I’m pretty sure You’re Divine changed me on a spiritual level. I am always awed and humbled by how they use language to build scenes and atmosphere. 

Ayes comes up with the most mindblowing AUs, their writing style is absolutely beautiful and the stunning art collaboration with itskleo is the cherry on top of the sundae, really. 

Gorgeousgreymatter writes the most wonderful stuff at incredible speed and their smut is what I aspire to, honestly. They are also an incredibly cool person who I am proud and happy to be friends with. I legit died the first time they told me that they liked my writing. 😭

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones? 

Listen, there’s a reason why I have churned out over 150,000 words worth of Steddie fanfic and (almost) all of it in the same pov. Steve Harrington is my little emotional support blorbo. I relate to him on so many levels. I too, am perpetually stressed and lowkey annoyed, as well as a chronic people pleaser who puts others before myself, so most of the time, his perspective comes real easy to me.

Apart from that, Robin Buckley is my spirit animal and I squeal every time somebody tells me that they like my take on her.  

And, obviously, I'm beyond thrilled that ppl are liking my dragon!Eddie so much. 😏🐉

#steddie #steddie brainrot #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #my writing #ask game

[beskarxclad]

Mobile Rules

Mun is well over 21+ and Semi-selective Please call me Rogue

There will be nsfw themes present. That being said, I will not write nsfw with minors. Period. My muse will also not interact in nsfw with minor muses. Please be aware.

If you have triggers and need anything tagged, please come to me and communicate. I promise I don't bite!

Multiverse and Cross fandom friendly, au friendly!

Ocs are fine but I’d prefer you to have a clear information page.

I can match most styles and lengths of writing. I prefer replies be more than a line in the case that I’ve written out a para or more. But I’m okay with short one liners, I understand crack rp is fun and sometimes people wanna do something fun and short instead of hitting lots of drafts.

Au’s and crossovers are okay by me. I am open to all kinds of story ideas, if you’d like to thread with me come drop me a message and we can plot. My inbox and messenger are open, also I do have discord so come shoot me an ask about that if you like. I am super ok with multiple threads! Just take into account I may be slow to reply.

I am super ok with multiple threads! Do not god mod my character. Do not specify his actions or thoughts for yourself. I will drop a thread if you do this. Again, unless we have something plotted out beforehand just don’t do it. I ship chemistry. However do not force a ship on me without first discussing it with me.

We are not here just for ships. Most ships and verses are separate from each other unless specifically stated otherwise. I prefer a ship to have build up before hand. I prefer new acquaintances not send in for smut/ship memes. Unless we’ve spoken about a ship before hand.

I am open to criticism but do not send me hate I will not tolerate it. If you have an issue with me please come to me privately and we can discuss things civilly. If this can’t happen I may consider blockage.

I will not participate in fandom fighting. I don't care who ships what, or what character is awful or lovely. I don't care if you like disney or you don't. You do you. I'll do me.

In saying this, I will not participate in or be dragged into drama or call outs.

Don’t harass me for replies. I run several blogs and I have bad anxiety as well as the fact that I do have a life outside of rp. A message now and again as a reminder is fine.

Mun is a little shy but very approachable if you’d like to plot  ^.^ Remember roleplay is supposed to be fun! Not stressful!

#mobile rules #pinned

[1000-directions]

ao3 tag game

tagged by @themarshalstale (omg i just tried to tag you as nightwideopen sdlkfjs) thank you!!!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

87       .            .

2. What's your current AO3 wordcount?

343,005

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

lots of overlapping shit, so i’m folding all of the marvel movie and tv fandoms into MCU, here we go:

Marvel Cinematic Universe (62)

Hawkeye (Comics) (36)

One Direction (Band) (34)

Bebe Rexha (Musician) (4)

BBC Radio 1 RPF (2)

Aquaman (2018) (1)

Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF (1)

Endings Beginnings (2019) (1)

X Factor (UK) RPF (1)

The Last Full Measure (2019) (1)

Destroyer (2018) (1)

dear lord i’ve spent a lot of time writing words about dudes who look like sebastian stan

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

they are all winterhawk

ever fallen in love with someone (winterhawk punks)

Aw, Telepathy, No (round robin fic)

on target (my first ever winterhawk fic!!!!!!)

(do you know who you are?) (codename: the clinter soldier)

i don’t have a choice (but i still choose you) (fake soulmates)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not.

i respond in my heart, always. i am pretty overwhelmed by how many unanswered comments i have, to the point where it is just...beyond my capacity to remedy at this point. i occasionally respond to a comment that just hits the right way when i’m in a shitty mood, or if i can see someone working their way through my fics and leaving comments i try to acknowledge that. but i am Not Good At Replying To Comments. but i love them and they make me happy.

6. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

i mean...i do not generally consider myself to be an especially angsty writer, and i try to end on a high note. but ever since new york, my sole phlint fic, is a bit of a downer.

7. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've ever written?

lol uhhhhhhh i mean my most popular pairing is these two dudes:

and i think i would count that as a crossover considering one of them is literally an illustration.

my craziest crossover is pretty obviously harry style/venom symbiote, and i regret nothing.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not outright, and certainly not in marvel fandom. there were some people in 1d fandom who were pretty infuriated by things that i chose to ship, so i got the usual anons telling me they hoped i would die or whatever, but that was more in reaction to my general existence than like a specific fic. just one of many reasons i am not in that fandom anymore 🙃

9. Do you write smut?

i mean, do i write anything? to the extent that i “write,” then sure, i write smut.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not in total. i’ve read prose in other fics that felt familiar, but i try to give people the benefit of the doubt about that kind of stuff.

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

i generally do not play well with others, but i participated in the winterhawk round robin!

12. What's your all time favorite ship?

bucky barnes/happiness

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

on ao3, it was 1d. prior to ao3, mind your business lol

14. What's your favorite fic you've written?

currently very partial to my bucky/sharon fic you feel like a holiday, which is just a whole fic about sex and food and gentle domestic intimacy, My Brand. also very partial to the bucky/sarah fic that pretty much only exists in my head.

tagging stresses me out but here we go, no pressure, follow your bliss: @ticklefighthockey @violsva @mollynoble @loonyloopylisa @alexenglish @anactorya @cyclogenesis​ and anyone else reading this who wants to talk about fic please feel free to say i tagged you

#tag i'm it #me me me #long post #food cw

[blissfulparker]

Seasick→Peter Parker pt.1

Parings→peter Parker x reader fake dating!AU

Summary→when you give one lie to your mom that you have a boyfriend, she ends up buying an extra ticket for a vacation. Now you’re stuck looking for a fake boyfriend and drag eventually drag peter in. Except you and peter both like each other and don’t know how long you can last pretending.

Warnings→fluff, eventual smut, uhhh slowburn all the way, sexual tension yeah yeah yeah.(both characters are in college!)

Word count: 1k

A/n→ this is for @spider-pxrkers writing challenge!! Congratulations you deserve the most💗💗this is going to be a series and I already have it written out to the end so I won’t be slacking that much. This is short but I hope you guys enjoy!!!

One lie. One four letter sentence lie was all it took to make your mom scream into the phone with excitement. I have a boyfriend. Was all you said that made her so excited for you to come home from college. So excited for summer vacation. So excited to see you with a boy on your arms coming home from school. That one little lie that you thought was nothing made her buy an extra ticket for a cruise you guys were supposed to go on as a family. One lie you thought was nothing now had to be turned into something real. Something real in such little time, something that will last a week.

“How'd it go?” Ned doesn't turn away from the video game him and Peter played in the smelly, small dorm room as you slammed the door. You took a slice of the now cold pizza into your mouth as you tried to distract yourself.

You had just come back from your fourth online date this week. It was almost impossible to find a guy willing to do something like this. Almost impossible to find a stranger at least. you didn't blame them, who wanted to go with someone they just met on a cruise to the Bahamas? it didn't even sound real to you.

“Awful, literally shit.” you sigh and Ned is the one who pauses the game. 

“Maybe you can tell your mom the truth…” Ned teases. He was your best friend, you met him through Betty and MJ when you were younger. You knew Peter well too but you wouldn't really go to him in a time of stress.

“No, I can't, she already bought an extra ticket.” you huff dropping the pizza.

“Whats going on?” Peter's voice entered the conversation.

You always had a small crush on Peter, his soft brown curls, how smart he is, he's a bit of a dork but you adored that. He had a girlfriend last year who was far from you. She was more preppy, outgoing, Gwen. her name was Gwen and hed met her in his chem class. she was blonde, blue eyed, perfect little cheerleader that sometimes could get on the friend groups nerve. she always called peter pet names you hated and you knew he secretly hated too.

“(y/n) lied to her parents about having a boyfriend. So they bought an extra ticket for a cruise they are going on for her imaginary boyfriend so now she has to find a boy who is going to be her week long male escort.” ned teases and you hit his shoulder.

“Not a male escort.” You grumble.

Peter's arms flex in his flannel as he opens the fridge to get water. You had never seen him workout so the muscles always surprised you. “Why don't you two just go together?” he asks.

As if on cue you and Ned burst into laughter and Peter stands there confused.

“My parents are happy not stupid, peter.” you laugh then clear your throat. “They would know I'm lying then, Ned is my best friend. Besides, Ned is visting his family in hawaii.” you rest your hands on the counter. Your painted red nails tap harshly and peter looks away.

“Yeah, but i would love a cruise. Living on a boat for a week sounds like the life.” Ned throws the pizza box away into the trash before going back to the couch. “Peter, are you doing anything this summer?” Ned asked and he shook his head.

“Wait peter you're free?” you ask perking up. Peter's face immediately goes red and he shakes his head.

“No, NO, i'm not! I-I have the Stark internship a-and im gonna spend time with May! She misses me a lot! Then maybe a road trip and I dunno but very busy! I am very busy!” he holds his hand out for you to stay back.

“Please? Please peter? It's only a week! That's all it is! A week on a boat and it's fully paid for you don't have to worry about food, drinks, or even souvenirs! and we don't even have to talk during the day if you don't want to! Sure we might share a room but it will be separate beds. Please Peter, I'm begging you. I'm running out of time and think about it, when's the next time you're going to be offered to go on a free cruise.” you ask him, he looks over at ned who knows he has a small—large—crush on you.

“Shes got a point.” ned chirps in and peter shoots him a daggering look.

“I-i get sea sick really easy! And I hate the idea of a bunch of people being on a boat in water!” Ned almost laughs as he knows Peter's identity and how he just doesn’t want to deal with a week long of being with you.

“Peter, please. Its a week and we dont even have to kiss or anything please, peter if you do this...if you do this i will do your first semester chem homework.” you offer and Ned raises his eyebrows.

If he does this, pretends to be your boyfriend, his feelings will get worse. When you get a real boyfriend his heart will break. He can't let you kiss his cheek, hold his hand and act sweet with your family at dinner and then go to sleep knowing none of it is real. He looks at Ned one more time, his lips in a cheesy smile as he's encouraging Peter to say yes.

With one last sigh, he knows the words he's about to say he can't take back.

“I will go with you.” his voice almost cracking as he agrees.

You jump on him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hug him tight. His hands rest around your waist and just this feeling now makes him tense up. He couldn't handle touching you now. He can’t even begin to imagine a whole week of it.

☆permanent taglist: Permanent Taglist: @hoodiesparker @dahliaspidey​ @parkersvibes​ @itssss-a-bean @ppkrtingle​ @myfinalwords​ @bocauhl​@tinyplanet-explorers​ @sincerlyfan @softbaby-tom​ @awesomeblackcottontail​ @rosebeegraham​ @stormyholland​ @unicorn-princess-1999​ @spideyyypeter​ @marshyrebelcloud​ @oh-epiphany​ @yeahimcrying @highlydisfunctional1​ @disgustangg​ @pterstingle @quacksonhq​ @starlightparker​ @reblogsfics​ @tomsrebeleyebrow​ @dreamyyholland​ @imaginashawnns​ @alilpunkrock​ @peterspideysenses​ @lovely-valllll​ @lowkey-holland​ @hannaholland1811 @kthemarsian​ @spectacularlyspidey​

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #fake dating!peter #college!peter #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #imagine peter parker #spiderman imagine #tom holland imagine

[rpbetter]

How do I stop being frustrated that someone says they can't reply to my "longer" thread with them (our only thread) because it's hard for them to write "long" replies atm but they write long replies with their other closer partners? Even combined other those replies add up to a lot of writing, way more than my thread with them.

Hey, Anon!

I am so sorry that this answer is likely to be awful, but it's at least honest and I really mean that I'm sorry about both the situation and that there isn't a whole lot to be done for it. Sometimes, just hearing someone else understand what you're going through and echo your own thoughts is helpful, though. It can really help solidify options we know exist, but maybe, we just weren't ready to acknowledge them.

This is one of those situations where you're the only person involved you can change in any way, so it's good that you're wanting to mitigate your frustration instead of changing the other mun. Good on you for that!

It's certainly frustrating! I try to take on at least one or two blogs at a time who have come to me expressing a desire to write more, they want to become lengthy multipara to novella RPers, and this is quite often the situation I end up in. The mun can manage to churn out lengthier replies to a handful of other muns, but not me. Ultimately, it tends to be a combination of them not being super invested in our plots/the action in the thread right off and my writing style. I can be a difficult person to reply to unless the other mun is also deeply, and I mean, like, Marianas Trench deeply, thrilled by writing in and of itself...and I also do not quick-ship or quick-smut as well as writing muses who can preclude those common interests anyway.

I say that because there might be some similarity going on here, and understanding the why of it can make things a bit less frustrating and personal feeling.

You might also write in a style that is harder for this person to jump right into and roll with - especially if these other blogs getting the lengthier replies are a little below the other mun's writing skill level. People often feel like they're up to and excited by a challenge until they really get into the thick of it, then, it's stressful and they can feel like they'll be judged if they do not write as well as they perceive their writing partner is.

You might have muses and preferences that are not aligning with what they most want and are, as such, most inspired by to write more. Again, that can seem interesting as a challenge, something like a slowburn or platonic interaction, or even a muse that is more difficult to interact with, but once someone who isn't usually into those situations gets into one...it just feels like delay and boredom to them.

I'm not saying that your threads, writing, muses, or you, yourself, are frustrating or boring! Simply that this has been an issue in the past with these situations not just for me but also for other muns I've known, so, it might hold some significance here.

There isn't any good way to do this, I'll be honest, but if you're so frustrated that you're willing to risk losing them as a mutual to feel better about this situation, I'd suggest talking to them about it. Handling it with a lot of care, of course. By that, I mean keeping this all phrased as a you problem not a them problem, regardless of how accurate or upsetting that might be. Don't directly state that it's a little hurtful and frustrating that they can magically expend the effort to write more with everyone other than you!

If you go this route, try something like:

"I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way, but I wanted to talk to you about something. Is there something I'm doing that is making it harder for you to reply more to me? I notice that your other interactions are longer and seem to be easier for you to do. I know you said that you have difficulty writing longer replies, but if there's something I'm doing that is making it harder, I'd rather know so we can have a better time."

Like I said, still likely to be received poorly. No matter how you phrase it, it's probably going to come off as accusatory or like you're being jealous. I'm only advising it as something for you to consider because, either way, it could lessen the frustration you feel to more actively discuss it with them.

I am pretty sure you don't want to go the route of calling it quits, either. However, I'd definitely be dishonest if I did not advise that as a possibility.

If their actions are making you so frustrated that it's distracting you from better partnerships, making you outright angry a good deal of the time, or otherwise ruining your time here more than it isn't...they really shouldn't be someone you keep writing with. Your frustration is totally valid, you are expending more effort than they are, and watching someone put that effort into everyone else's threads but yours is not a good time. And it isn't something you can expect to change, rather, this situation usually resolves by one mun or the other simply ceasing to reply to the thread quietly.

That isn't ideal for anyone, even though I very much understand the inclination, and you know what? On some rare occasions, that can be the nicest and most peaceable thing one can do. You really do have to know the other mun to decide that. If they're someone who is going to be very hurt, suffers from RSD, or has ever expressed, be that privately, on the dash, or in their rules, that they want people to tell them when a thread is dropped, please, tell them you're dropping. If they're someone who is going to be incredibly hostile about it, who has a ton of threads they struggle to keep up with, might not even notice or be relieved, it might be better. I still will advise 99% of the time to tell someone when you're dropping a thread.

If you don't want to unfollow because you enjoy this mun OOC, they are, or have become, a friend or just someone you enjoy on your dash, a lot of muns are perfectly fine remaining friends and mutuals without continuing to write together. So long as you're not being caustic about how you end writing together, of course! Just telling them that you don't think you mesh as well in writing as you do OOC is a good way to inoffensively end a thread - and it isn't untrue! Again, takes some awareness of the mun as a person, but if they won't take it the wrong way (projecting the meaning of "you're boring, you suck at this, I don't like you" onto what you've said), you can even tell them that you have lost interest in the thread.

Anyway, as I said, I'm very sure that's not an option you are looking for at this time either, but...it is an option. You will be less frustrated if you remove the source of that frustration.

An option you might like a little bit better is trying to allow yourself to...sort of reposition the importance of these threads.

Think of it like this - if you have ten threads and you're not dealing with frustrating partners in eight of them, you can make the two that are a problem low-priority interactions.

I know it's even more frustrating if you're doing something in the threads with this mun that you were very excited about. For some reason, for the longest damn time, every time I had someone who was up for a plot, muse, or verse I had been dying to do, they were not exactly great writing partners. It's so disappointing when you're excited, getting to do something you've wanted to finally, but you're forced to accept that you're kind of still not getting that thread. It's the truth, however. You aren't actually getting what you wanted here, even if all the pieces are in position on your end because they are not, and will not be, on the crucial other end of things.

If that's the case, seek out people who might be interested in something similar from within the group of mutuals you are happy interacting with. It's actually pretty rare that, once you have more than just two to three active mutuals anyway, you don't already write with someone who wants to write even more with you. Maybe they don't know you have a burning need for that plot or to use that verse, maybe they just aren't sure about asking you about it, there are a lot of reasons why! Usually, we're all simply busy with what we're doing and don't notice until someone directly asks/mentions it. So, when you've identified which mutual is most likely to be interested, don't just post on the dash that you want x and hope they pick up on it - directly talk to them about it.

You can also include elements of what you were excited about in already existing threads. Use those things as inspiration for those plots, the developing characterization going on in them, and so. Try to remember that everything doesn't have to happen all at once, nor should it, actually. It's alright to only sort of know how you'd like to include that bit of inspiration in an already rolling thread! Once you're aware of wanting to, that you are totally allowed to do this, and somewhat how, you're prepared to see the moment when it happens and jump on it.

Even if this isn't the case, placing higher importance on the threads written with muns who are returning your energy is a great way to feel less frustrated by the one you feel is devaluing you. There is absolutely nothing inherently wrong about having threads, muses, plots, and muns of different personal priority levels. So long as you're not being shitty to anyone involved or trying to hide it, it's fine. Creativity is not something linear and equal at all times, just as this other mun is obviously more invested in other people, you can be as well. Just be more honest and self-aware than this mun is being with you.

If you think you can't do that because it's your Process to reply in order and/or to queue replies when they're all done, neither is a hindrance. No one is actually watching the order you do your replies in. You can do the ones you feel most inspired by first, don't queue them yet, then, do the replies you know you're not going to get much other than frustration out of last. This way, you won't be wasting the creative effort on those threads either, you'll be concentrating it on the mutuals who appreciate it more. It's absolutely possible to do things with the organization you might require while still making it a better experience for yourself.

Furthermore, sometimes muns do get annoyed when their shorter replies are not the ones replied to quickly. Particularly when they outright state that short replies are their preference, this is usually a part of their process and they feel like it's easier and faster for everyone else because it is for them. If it is harder, and as such, slower, for you to deal with these shorter replies? Be sure you pop that in your rules as a warning, and make it clear when speaking to mutuals that this is the case for you and they shouldn't expect extremely quick turnaround because something is short.

While it's valid and human to not understand why something that is totally fun, easy, and rewarding for us is the opposite for others, upon it being made clear, that's a boundary you're saying needs to be respected.

Expecting replies to be fast because they're short is also something that can induce stress and be incredibly unfair.

When someone expects that their reply should be responded to expediently because it is shorter, that can be stressful to the other mun, it can feel very pressuring. To the mutuals interacting who are writing longer replies, it's unfair when it takes a week for their replies they have put a lot of effort into but someone who won't match length at all is getting numerous replies from you.

And if you like to post replies as soon as you get them done, but doing this is upsetting to the frustrating mun when it isn't theirs? Honestly, Anon, I know it sounds mean, but that's a point to have an unpleasant conversation with them about what they're doing. If they don't like it, the difference is right there for you to point out to them - these threads don't leave me feeling like I'm wasting my energy.

A lot of the time, when we are upset about perceived unfairness, the difference between what we're doing and the other muns are doing is right there for us to see. It probably is unfair to some degree, but if we want to get to the bottom of it, it's a good place to start - asking what these other muns are doing that we're not. Then, the all-important question of whether it's something we want to change, or even can, and acting according to what is going to be most rewarding and possible in the situation.

Like with delineating above what might be some reasons why this mun is responding to others differently than you, actually! Perhaps, those are things you'd like to do differently, but then again, perhaps, that would mean lessening your writing quality and enjoyment. The frustrating replier can see that the muns you reply to give back more of what they've been given, and if they feel like it's both worth it and possible, they'll do the same...or not. Either way, the awareness and tools are right there.

We all don't work out, or work out smoothly and immediately, and nothing about that is inherently mean.

Speaking of not working out, in addition to mentioning in your rules that you don't reply faster to shorter threads, it might lessen some of your frustration to work on a bit of a side project to prevent some of it from happening again in the future by going over your rules. I know much of the RPC is allergic to lengthy rules and any whiff of expectations, but clearly stating what you want and how you operate is the only way to insulate yourself and others from disappointment and frustration.

You might want to consider including some of the following:

you only write multipara - give a rough estimate of what that means to you, as mutlipara can be anything from two to twenty paragraphs, technically! Letting people know what you, specifically, tend to view as multipara, while making it clear it's not a fixed number or anything, can even help alleviate the new mutual anxiety of too much guesswork

or you only write novella - same thing, what does that look like for you? Is it 2-5k words on average, or is it 10k+? Give a rough idea to remove the guesswork, but be clear that you aren't always going to write exactly that amount or expect it

if you do have a minimum you'd like to receive, tell people - it's not demanding, it's honest. If receiving one line back after writing two paragraphs is going to upset you, say you need at least a para in return, for example

if you have a hard time writing short replies, tell people that - again, you should be a little more specific about what "short" means to you. If you find it impossible to write anything under four para, say so

should you prioritize threads based on inspiration, or even well-known partnerships, be open about that as well - it's absolutely going to make some folks pissy, but if they can't appreciate your honesty and are already annoyed before they interact with you, do you actually want to interact with them?

say that you need to know upfront if there is a consistent problem replying to you - you won't be upset or anything, but you can't address a problem you don't know exists, so, if someone is struggling with replying to you, they should feel like it's safe to talk to you about it

Obviously, these are suggestions and need to be things that are true to you! The whole point is taking the frustration you feel and doing something proactive and good with it. It isn't changing this particular situation, but making certain that you are providing new mutuals with clear information as to your boundaries, expectations, and what you'll be giving them could help prevent some similar problems. While, unfortunately, not everyone reads or respects rules, having rules that outline such things let muns know what they're getting into, allows them to make better choices of who to interact with, and is respectful to both them and yourself.

In the future, if you have another mutual like this and have made such things apparent in your rules, you can address it with a bit less awkwardness and even anxiety. It's a different feeling coming to someone with a problem when you already have a base of discussion! That doesn't mean it's a way to be forceful or shitty or anything, just that you can casually remind them at a point in this conversation that "like I said in my rules, it's not fun for me to reply to shorter things." Kind of helps to remind that, hey, you did come into this knowing that was a problem for me, you're the one being kind of lame in this situation, without literally saying that.

Any time you start to feel really frustrated and you want to settle down, consider working on something you can use that energy on. Not talking about going outside and hacking up a tree or anything ridiculous, totally talking about projects that could use a touch of frustration that you might already have sitting in your drafts or have otherwise been meaning to get to.

Take the frustration and work on a thread or meme reply in which your muse is frustrated. Take it and go work on the graphics overhaul you've been meaning to do, as annoyance can be a great way of giving us extreme focus on a task. It doesn't have to be your rules is my point! A lot of things could channel the upset into something enjoyable and productive.

And, I mean, I guess, if you really want to murder a tree...so long as it is your tree and you're prepared to accept the physical consequences of this intense amount of exertion, you could do that.

I'd still suggest replying to the muns who are more appreciative of what you're doing, though. While keeping in mind that, eventually, it really might be in your best interest to not keep writing with this person. They're not doing this maliciously or anything, but the outcome is still that you're not enjoying yourself.

Even in a hobby, you're not going to effortlessly enjoy yourself constantly, but if something is markedly frustrating you on a consistent basis, it doesn't have a long-term place in your downtime. Things do not have to be intentionally shitty for them to be negatively impacting you enough that they've got to go. You might want to work on letting this mutual go by having some more enjoyable, prioritized interactions with others. Not only will it keep you less frustrated to concentrate on positive, more fulfilling experiences, but it'll also make those threads much easier to let go of, even if there are things in them you'd have loved to have written. You'll get the opportunity to with the right people!

Again, I'm sorry if this wasn't incredibly helpful. It's not a great situation, and it isn't one that has a single possible solution, but rather, several that totally depend on how you feel about things and at what point in your frustration you're at.

For me, this would be a we've got to talk, this isn't working out point, but I don't think you sound like you're there...and that's fine! So long as your frustration isn't hurting anyone else, it's perfectly alright to need to get to your own, unique point of being done with a situation. Only you know where that's at, and I don't feel like it's a kind or viable answer to tell people they've got to drastically and immediately make choices like blocking someone over something like that. In addition to being a juvenile way of handling an interaction that isn't glowingly positive, it reeks of serious removal of agency to me. Like, no one other than the mun doing the advising is capable of adult cognition lol that's not cool! We don't do that on this blog. Same thing with not giving you some insulting, and potentially even ableist, "advice" that you should remember it's "just stupid tumblr rp" and not to be frustrated at all.

You're interacting with other human beings in this hobby as is required, other human beings do things that are frustrating, the venue is irrelevant, right? It's also every bit as Not That Deep that it's great to be invested in your hobby, period. (Unless your hobby is something like creating a fascist dictatorship lmao, then, maybe please kind of really get a different one.) So, if, in voicing your frustration with mutuals and friends, anyone has made it feel like you're being ridiculous? You're not, it's 100% valid to be annoyed when someone is telling you one thing and doing another right in front of you. I'd also be frustrated, Anon, and have been with this kind of thing!

I hope whatever you end up trying works out well for you, Anon! If nothing else, maybe you'll find a new mutual or existing one you can write even better things with. Just try to be patient, with this other mun and yourself. Resist the urge to snap at them or be hateful about it, and I'm sure the impulse has come up because these situations feel a lot like being simultaneously othered and lied to. It's just not worth it, it won't change anything, and you'll be the one who looks like a dick. You deserve better than that!

#rp advice #rp problems #thread length #mun interaction #mutual problems #frustrating mutuals #tumblr rpc #answered #anonymous #queued

[jynzandtonic]

I’m back.

And here’s a coming-out post.

I live with Bipolar 2—the variation of the disorder that comes with less severe manic symptoms and longer, lower depressive episodes. I’m not the first in my family to have it. My mother, who lacked health insurance, self-medicated her disorder with alcohol and opioids. She didn’t make it to sixty. I am so fortunate to have healthcare, positive rapport with compassionate psychiatry + primary care docs, and unconditionally loving and supportive friends. SO fortunate. Goddamn. 

I’ve not had a full-blown manic episode in three years thanks to diagnosis and access to medication, though I’ve still experienced brief episodes of hypomania, mixed-hypomania, and mood-congruent bipolar psychosis—perhaps the scariest part of the disorder. After years of cycling through different med combinations and tolerating severe side effects, I think I’ve finally found the med regimen that really works. The past two months have been the most stable, peaceful, and free of fear I’ve ever felt. Well, y’know. Besides that whole global-pandemic-unemployment-US-presidential-elections thing. Lolz.

Bipolar disorder gets absolutely fucking awful representation in mass-media/pop culture, and the shitty stereotypes run deep. People use the word itself as a pejorative (btw, don’t do that, for fuck’s sake). Some people are wary of those with bipolar because they’ve been deeply hurt by someone during the rage or recklessness of that individual’s mania. I understand. I really do. 

But y’all know me. If I can be Your Very First Bipolar Friend, fuck yeah—though it’s far more than likely that I’m not your first, whether you know it or not. Keep an open mind about what bipolar is, and what people with bipolar are like. You can be an integral part of grinding away at those shitty, ableist stereotypes and making the world a better place for neurodiverse folx.

“Stress is really bad for you.” [Citation: Every Scientist Ever et al.]

Before I took a break, I was receiving some less-than-kind anons, asks from people insinuating that I wasn’t producing enough content/the right content/the content THEY wanted/ALL THE CONTENT AT ONCE! FASTER! MORE!, and overall… just far more asks than I could ever reasonably respond to. 

I let a good friend down. I felt like I was letting ALL of you down. Like I wasn’t doing a good job. Wait… I felt like this was… a job? I felt like if I couldn’t do my job well, I didn’t deserve to do it at all.

With that stress and my own poor-self care, I started to feel the familiar tendrils of decompensation wrapping around my mind. The paranoia. The fear. The un-reality. I had to step back from it all. 

But the internalized shame I had around my bipolar disorder kept me from ever logging back on. I’d blown my facade as a normal, stable person. I wasn’t making people happy. And ohhhh yeah. I realize how fucking preposterous that all sounds in retrospect, but hey! Ya gotta have respect for your feelings in the moment and courage for self-reflection afterward.

I’m feeling better now. And I’m done being ashamed of my own mental health when I’d literally never treat another human being similarly. 

Honesty is the best policy. So… Sup. I live with Bipolar 2, and I’ve been thinking that it’s much better to do something you love imperfectly or irregularly than to abstain from doing entirely for fear of ‘failing’—whatever the fuck that means in the context of writing gloriously horny trash on the internet (read: there is no real ‘failure’). 

This isn’t a job. I’m not a content robot. I love and appreciate every single one of you. I love this community. And I love myself enough to take care of myself, damnit! I’ll be posting later to elucidate on this, ‘cause I know I need to communicate clearly and set better boundaries if I want this Tumblr smut thang to work. <3

To all of you who reached out with kind messages while I was away: thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I am such a better person for having (virtually) met every single one of you. Happy tears from me, y’all. Happy tears.

I’m back.

#GUESS WHO'S BACK BACK #BACK AGAIN-GAIN #JYN IS BACK BACK #TELL A FRIEND FRIEND #okay shit sorry for the eminem reference I was born in '93 I literally can't help myself #ANYWAY #coming OUT #mental health #mental health awareness #bipolar 2 #hiatus #AHOY HERE BE TRIGGER WARNINGS! #tw: mental illness #tw: bipolar disorder #tw: mentions of trauma #tw: death of a loved one #tw: death of parent #tw: death of mother #tw: death #tw: mentions of suicide #tw: mentions of psychosis

[galacticlamps]

Tagged by @the--highlanders​ ! Thanks!

How many works do you have on AO3?

13

What’s your total AO3 word count?

76,200

(oh what a nice even number - I should try to mess that up as soon as possible, shouldn’t I?)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Aw man is this intentionally worded to be really hard to answer? I get that it says ‘written’ and not ‘posted’ but then what constitutes a ‘fandom?’ I definitely wrote fics for stuff I was interested in long before I even knew the word ‘fic’ - I did it throughout my childhood, and then in high school, and while I didn’t do it as much in college, it still happened from time to time. So a lot of the books/movies/tv shows/plays/musicals I wrote things for aren’t really fandoms, and frankly, I had to check my old folder just now to even remember some of them existed. I’ll just list the ones that I know for sure had fandoms, since that’s more fun (and embarrassing), right?

Obviously Doctor Who, classic and modern, Torchwood, Sherlock Holmes (ironically more of these seem to be about the books, but yes, I will admit, some for that tv show too), Les Mis, a couple different Marvel comics & movies, Good Omens, hell, I even found a Night Vale fic in there just now.

And I know there are other older things not even in that folder, some of which never made it to a computer at all, so if I had to ballpark a number I’d probably say around 25ish but really, who knows?

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Across the Gap

On the Spot

Expectations

Shards of Memories & Fragments of Glass

Itemized

(this was fun, I’d never noticed Ao3 even had a stats page until now lol)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to! Sometimes I take a long time to do so but for the most part, I usually get around to it. The rare exception would be if I first saw the comment when I was super busy/distracted and then felt like way too much time passed before I noticed it again, that it might be awkward if I said something at that point.

I do genuinely enjoy hearing what people think, but I’m also weirdly terrified of making anyone feel like they have to reply to my comments. I know that’s probably a little strange, but it’s actually a large part of why I made this Ao3 account in the first place - my original one, from high school, is followed by some long-time friends of mine who aren’t interested in this fandom, some of whom are involved in art & writing professionally. The thought of anyone like that reading something I wrote out of friendliness or even just curiosity and potentially having to pretend they liked it for the same reasons stressed me tf out, so I like having this virtually anonymous one because I can relax knowing that anyone who reads or interacts with something I wrote has probably done so only because they wanted to, rather than feeling obligated, and there’s no pressure on them to be nice to me about it if anything I write or post annoys them - so I really hope nobody who does just know me as an anonymous blog has ever worried about offending me by not replying to something, trust me, I’m perfectly happy with it!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t think I’ve really written any angsty endings? I guess the answer would have to be Reckless just because it involves the characters arguing about sad/weighty things and there isn’t really any solution to those issues - but even then I think I ended it with a kind of acceptance that stops it from really qualifying as angst? I also set it in the the same universe as other fics, so maybe that doesn’t even count as an ending? Am I that bad at ending things on angst? Lol

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Obviously none of the fics I’ve posted are crossovers but I’m trying to think now if any of my WIP’s are - I’ve definitely poached setting/premise ideas from other media, but in terms of actual crossovers . . . I’ve got a few cross-era or cross-Doctor, a few involving Torchwood, but that’s already the same universe, so the only thing that’d qualify as a true crossover would be some vague pieces of a fic where Jamie, Zoe, and Two end up on the Enterprise, since I think the 60s series of Star Trek and Dr Who feel kind of compatible, don’t they? In fact, aren’t there like officially licensed crossover comics or something? Or did I make that up? Idk, and the ideas are very loose, so it’s not much of a WIP either

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope, never

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I’ve never written smut, but I’m wondering if it’s possible that could change soon. There’s a longish multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on for a frankly embarrassing amount of time, and the plot does call for a sex scene at one point towards the end, but I can’t seem to make up my mind on how - uh, I guess the word is explicit? - it should get. I know I could easily do a fade to black/implication thing, but it’s kind of a source of contention and anxiety for the characters, so to skip over writing the actual scene and just revisit them afterwards rings of “and they slept together and now everything’s fine!” which feels kinda cheap to me - in this context, anyway - and not the right payoff for a long fic that’s otherwise more of an interpersonal drama/slightly a period piece, if I had to place it in a genre. I feel like my aversion to actually writing the scene might just be prudishness I should get over, or maybe just self-doubt, because I know I’d rather have a well-written, funny, character-development-supporting sex scene than nothing at all, but since I’ve never had any interest in writing a scene like that before, I don’t know if I can do it well, and I also don’t want to ruin a fic I’m otherwise proud of by doing it badly... ugh I have to figure this out

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I seriously doubt it

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

What’s your all time favorite ship?

I mean, it’s gotta be Two & Jamie. I’ve shipped things before with varying levels of investment, but I’ve never been able to use the term ‘otp’ in a literal sense until I came across them, and now it’s already basically gone out of fashion, go figure!

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

I’m not sure if I have one? My WIP doc is huge, but I don’t actually intend to get around to finishing everything in it, so I’d like to think that anything I’ve currently singled out to complete can actually get done.

That said, I do have a few AU’s that I don’t really plan to finish, but it might be cool if I could. Two of them are for all the main + some supporting characters of the Second Doctor’s era - one’s a modern day school teachers AU, and the other is a typical fantasy/fairy tale AU. Another is just Two/Jamie, based on Doctor Faustus (specifically the Marlowe play version) but right now there are two different versions of the ending coexisting in my head. I’ve written parts of scenes & some gen. backstory for all of those ideas, but I don’t know if I’ll ever try to finish them, or what form a finished product would even take - a series of one-shots set in the same universe? one long multi-chapter fic with some kind of overarching plot? And the amount of context/worldbuilding a big AU like these would require might not make them very appealing fics for people to read, so maybe it is better if I just keep them to myself, since in my head I already know what’s going on in those worlds lol.

What are your writing strengths?

I honestly don’t know. I haven’t had a creative writing class since middle school, and since then I’ve only ever shown creative writing to others in a fandom context, so it’s been a while since I’ve discussed it or gotten critical feedback. I suppose when I work in other arts or even academic writing contexts, people usually say I’m kind of insightful or at least detail oriented, which might just be another way of saying I overthink things, but I like to imagine I’m decent at finding little points of interest to expand upon.

What are your writing weaknesses?

If you’ve read this far I feel like you must know what I’m about to say: I do not know how to be concise.

Usually when I’m writing a fic, I put down the dialogue first on its own, leaving out the action of the scene and whatever plot/context led there, even if I’ve already figured all of that out. But then when I go to add those things in, they’re always longer than I wanted them to be. I don’t mind writing something long, but I don’t want my fics to be a slog to get through either, and there can be a point at which the stuff I’ve added for context overwhelms the stuff that I wanted the fic to be about in the first place, so it becomes a structural/proportion issue too. I haven’t completely given up on any fics because of this yet, but there’s one I’ve been struggling with for a couple months now - probably because I’m even second-guessing myself on which scenes need to be written out and which can just be referenced like a recap. Hopefully I figure that one out soon.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

((this is karma isn’t it? i posted a fic last week with two words of gaelic in it and was worried about that and now this is karma))

In general, I don’t want to do it. I feel like you’ve gotta have a really good grasp of a language to write dialogue & speech patterns for someone who’s a native speaker, and since I’m far from fluent in any language the characters I write for are, I wouldn’t feel confident writing any significant amount of dialogue in, say, Gaelic.

As a sidenote, though, I kinda love it when other people do it, particularly for Jamie. Irish (Gaeilge) and Scottish (Gàidhlig) are both languages I’ve wanted to learn for a long time, because my family’s fresh out of living speakers of either & I think that’s a shame, but I started with Irish and at the moment I’m still very much learning it. As different as they are, it still helps me understand parts of lyrics or texts that I come across in Gàidhlig fairly frequently, so when it comes up in a fic I get to feel like I’m being responsible and practicing, and it’s great when I can actually understand what’s being said.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I’m gonna go with Harry Potter even though that’s probably not a perfectly accurate answer - it’s almost certainly the first thing that has a fandom that I ever wrote for, but it was in a notebook when I was a kid and never something that I even typed on a computer, much less posted online or shared with other members of a fandom. But even then, I’m sure it wasn’t the first pre-existing fictional universe I ever set an original story in, because I did that a lot when I was a kid, it’s just hard to remember those clearly or on any kind of timeline.

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I’m very partial to Across the Gap, so I was pleasantly surprised to see that ranked first on the kudos thing above - but I’ve also got a soft spot for So Merrily We’ll Sing. It’s so self-indulgent it feels silly saying ‘it was so easy to write!’ but I guess having a fic that’s already just 100% headcaonons and fluff tied together by a song you really love does prevent it from being much of a labor (I also managed to refrain from making that one unnecessarily long, so that’s another win there)

tagging @terryfphanatics and anyone else who wants to do it - sorry I’m bad at remembering whose tumblr goes with whose Ao3 account, but I really would be interested to read this if anyone else feels like answering them!

#oh boy that was long #sorry #also sorry if the 13 is really big for some reason #i dont know how it got that way so i dont know how to change it #it doesnt look like that when i edit the post only when i save it #not fic but fic talk

[windsofregretandmistrust]

I read the ninth chapter and I OBVIOUSLY have some thots to share:

"He thought of things that he would perceive as a turn-off. Old people, Mattia Binotto, even Guenther, for fuck’s sake."- HEAFGZSKYDUV HAHAHAH STOP IM DYING and it didn't work as well💀 princess's powers are unmatched😌💅

"The Brit licked the Spaniard’s lips and, without wanting to, realised that the taste of Mick’s lips was much nicer."-Nothing to see here, just ✨teammate tings✨ honestly I cant blame him

"Callum fell in love with avoiding problems, and that was the problem. Even more so, when you don’t precisely know what the root of your problems is. Or, at least that’s what you tell yourself."- Callum is me, I'm Callum... 🤧

I HAVE to ask because of typical twitter callum's response (which was so good honestly): what do you think mick smells like?(at least in the fic I don't want to sound like a creep lol)

Your descriptions of the landscapes and Barcelona in general were just so beautifully written I'm in awe

WHEN CALLUM PUT THEIR PIC IN HIS PHONE CASE I DIED PLSS( needless to say I 100% believe this to be an actual thing between them irl)

I also need to acknowledge the fact that you included some schulott shoulder touching moments🙈 IT IS THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE so when I read it I was like: yeah that has definitely happened irl too👀

and although I am a sucker for intimacy and all that I appreciated the fact that you kept it realistic and made them be awkward about it rather than turning it to smut💕 (let us burn slowly with a few intimacy crumbs until the real deal queen, it's more enjoyable like that🤧)

and LASTLY the metaphor at the end-- I SWEAR YOUR MIND IS BRILLIANT you are 100% a natural at writing and I want you to know that 💖💖

This was a super long ask and I'm so sorry! But Im really stressed lately and these fanfics are really helping me escape a bit, I'm off to study now, thank you again for this beautiful chapter and i can't wait for more! Love you soulmate🥰

HI bestie! thank u so much for reading!! 

• YESS princess’ power is indeed unmatched, unparalleled, unrivaled and all that 😍 callum is so DOWN BAD for mick, trust me. i can’t wait to write the parts of when he will finally express it (because he will ;) yeah this is a spoiler, sorry lol)

• AHAHAH ALL CALLUM CAN THINK OF IS MICK and i wanted to make tht clear, even with a hot (milf) person all over him, mick just occupies and lives in his head rent free. in a way, it becomes overbearing for callum, because he didn’t anticipate himself to be this down bad at all 😳

• ME TOO i relate to my fic’s callum as well, big time. fun fact, the first sentence of that quote, “Callum fell in love with avoiding problems. And that was the problem.” was actually stolen from this song in my schulott playlist (47 + 53) titled “come on mess me up” by cub sport, and omg bestie, i swear that song is one of the best, if not the best (mr perfectly fine by taylor swift being the exception), schulott anthem, EVER, period. 

• MM WELLL in my fic, i imagine mick smelling like strawberries. at least, most of the time. to be honest, i can’t really give you a specific answer bff buttt, think of comfort, like the season fall, LMAO. he smells like comfort, and like someone who just got out of the shower (except not only does he smell like this post-shower, but all the time). 

• THANK U UR SO SWEET

• RIGHTT i can sooo see it happening irl as well LMAO like smth thatd happen during their prema teammates era or smth HAHAH. polaroid taking, it’s always such a cute headcanon (i’m considering make this a frequent thing in this fic, maybe polaroids could be their thing AHHH)

• YES YES YES omg, im a sucker for like small physical contact like that that may seem meaningless to many ahaha. and shoulder touching is DEF their “love language”. that’s it, you worded it perfectly. it IS their love language omg omg omg (cue my mind playing all the schulott gifs of them making contact)

• bestie, i’m a sucker for intimacy too and affectionate moments in fics but thank u sm for understanding and appreciating the slow burn approach! 

• THANK U THANK U THANK U ur the sweetest PLS, MWAH 

I’m so so happy to hear that these fics are helping you!! reading these fics and engaging in fandoms, like our schulott one, comfort me as well so i understand you big time lmaoo. good luck on your studies!! dont forget to take care of yourself, love you so much more soulmate ❤️ have a good day :)

#schulott #your eyes are like the ocean and all i want to do is drown

[a-lil-bi-furious]

Thank you @nacreousgore for the tag! 😊 I am thus far unaccomplished in the fic department as I only have one completed 😅 but I’ll answer what I can!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

One

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

2,544

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Officially (as in posted somewhere) two if we’re counting the embarrassing hunger games fics i posted on fanfiction.net when i was 12-13. 😅 And including not posted? Six that I can think of: Teen Wolf, The Hunger Games, The Mortal Instruments, Push, The Iron Fey, and Lorien Legacies

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 

So far I’m a one hit wonder, so, “Just a Hollow Darkness in Disguise” gets to keep first place and second through fifth 😱

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

My one and only fic to date “Just a Hollow Darkness in Disguise” ends with Scott thinking “I should be no one again.” and dying so....😅 

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

happy ending? I don’t know her yet 😕 

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

tbh crossovers really stress me out. They’re fun to think about in the abstract, but writing one would be too complicated for me unless the two medias could easily exist in the same universe.

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

oh, no. I’m generally kind of disinterested in smut? I’ve considered steamy-ish scenes for one of my fics, but I get way too embarrassed trying to write them and reading back over is even worse. Even if I wrote one I can’t imagine publishing it for other people to read. Kudos to people who can! I just...yeah, not for me I don’t think

9. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

The answer is yes but also no because I’m awful at it. It took me several months to respond to the comments on my fic, and now that I’m thinking about it there are still one or two comments I have yet to respond to Mem i’m so sorry. I get really overwhelmed reading them because they’re just so nice, but I also want the commenters to know I appreciate them! I’ve promised myself that going forward I will respond immediately

10. Have you ever received hate on a fic? 

Not so far! 

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so  ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not so far!

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

No, but I would definitely be interested in doing so! I love collaborating on things that aren’t forced school group projects, so working on a story with someone would be fun! I’m also really interested in the prospect of a story with two POV written by two separate people

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

this is a mean question 😠

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

Probably my Corey&Scott missing scene. It just really doesn’t cooperate with me and has fallen to near bottom of my WIP priorities 

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmmm. This is a hard one for me. 🤔 I think I’m pretty decent with characterization. I’m pretty good at mimicking things, so when I really try to get down speech patterns and such I can.  And sometimes when I really try I think I can be pretty good with imagery? Only sometimes.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Actually writing. 🙃 But also planning? I’m currently struggling most with putting together an actual story, rather than a collection of random disjointed scenes I got struck with. I also struggle with wanting things to be perfect right away and just...giving up when they aren’t which is a TERRIBLE habit because nothing is ever perfect??? i’m working on it.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It stresses me out. I don’t know enough to really understand the nuances and research isn’t my strong suit either. So if I didn’t have someone who was a native speaker and/or fluent to consult I probably wouldn’t? But maybe? 

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

THG

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written you’re writing?

Because I only have one fic published, I’m answering favorite WIP.  This changes a lot depending on what I’m feeling inspired about, but right now I’m most excited about my Theo and Scott nightmares fic. It still does not have a solid plot because i’m Bad At Planning (see: Q17), but there are a couple tidbits I’ve written for it that I actually think turned out well?? and make me interested in exploring the Theo/Scott dynamic further?? So it’s my fav atm

tagging @momentofmemory @daughterofluthien @bericas @rohesiawrites and @rhyslahey to play if any of you would like! 

#tag games #my writing

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

do you want more of this? isn't it glorious?

summary: requested: Imagine the victory sex after Andy wins a case. It’s a mix between the softest and most harried sex you’ve ever had, bc he’s so excited but he also wants to slow things down and just revel in the moment. also he feels guilty about working so late all the time and ignoring you for this case, so he of course has to make it up to you somehow

warnings: just smut. a lotta smut. pretty vanilla smut tho. it’s cute smut.

word count: around 5,000

pairing: andy barber  x reader

a/n: so okay, if you’re upset with me that i haven’t been writing. i am guilty, definitely, but the real culprit is this story! (okay, it was technically me for being an idiot and editing a post ON tumblr instead of the word doc, but) i just got really attached to this writing and when i lost some of it, it was actually really sad and i could not make myself finish this request until literally two days ago even though i started working on it at the start of june. and plus also, i really am about to have to find a new song, running out of lyrics l o l

Andy wasn’t anything close to optimistic when he left that morning. He was exhausted because he’d crawled into bed at three in the morning. He was scattered, his keys in his office, his phone upstairs and uncharged, the files he’d been looking at the entire night either in the kitchen, living room, or his office. He was nervous, something you only knew because he asked you to tie his tie.

But Andy wasn’t some overly emotional man who needed your support to win a case. He relied on himself first, you second—and that was okay, that was what you signed up for. Andy loved taking care of you and there were some lines that that meant you weren’t able to cross.

You wanted to tell him that you knew he would do the best he could, you wanted to claim that that was all that mattered. It was bigger, though. It wasn’t him that had failed, it wasn’t even the evidence or the police. It was about politics, he had explained when you asked a few days prior. It was about a case that he had known was always going to be a long shot at best, and well, impossible otherwise.

So, you simply knotted the tie, smoothed your hand down it, and told him you loved him in gray. He scoffed. How could you not be tired of seeing him in gray at this point? Instead of giving him an answer that would make him blush, you kissed him.

He asked you about work and you told him it was just another day. Actually, you would be skipping work, not much to do anyway, and you knew that this case was important. You didn’t want to chance getting caught up in anything and making it home after him. You wished him luck on his way out and he kissed the top of your head and thanked you.

Nothing major, of course. Because he didn’t want you to know that he was worried about this. When you were just dating Andy, picking up on these signs was almost impossible. As soon as you were living together, he was completely and unintentionally transparent.

Sometimes, he would come home and it felt like he had a raincloud with him. Sometimes, he would just lay with you, hold you in his arms for hours, just wanting to hear you talk. Sometimes, he was too disappointed in himself and holed up in his office until you forced him out.

Other times, he was sunshine and full of happiness and pride. He would hold you all the same, but he would kiss you and tell you how much he loved you. He would want to celebrate, go out for dinner, plan a small vacation. You loved him always, wholly, but when he won, that was when you were happiest.

As mentioned, there wasn’t much you could do. Andy was big on little gestures. He didn’t need you to be some cheerleader waiting at his side and telling him that he was doing everything right. He needed to do this alone, win or lose on his own, and then come to you with the results. He wasn’t too keen on letting you be involved in the cases anyway, he didn’t want you worrying or hearing about those terrible details that had made him cancel the newspaper a long time ago.

So, it was a Friday, and if he lost or won, that meant that you would have the rest of the day, Saturday, and Sunday to react to it. You guys could stay home and eat terrible food, watch movies, and just be with one another. He’d told you several times that being with you was the only thing that could make him feel better after a loss.

You were baking cookies, his favorite. Oatmeal chocolate chip. You didn’t bake much, and cooking was fairly equal, so this was definitely a “special occasion” type of thing. He’d informed you of this preference on your first date. Then explained that if he had one chance to go back in time, it would be used to find the person who thought up oatmeal raisin cookies and help imprison them for the rest of their life.

It was one of those moments that you realized you would be just as crazy to let him go as you would be to keep him. If only because you knew you were going to fall so deeply in love with him. Clearly, you were right since your third anniversary was approaching.

It was four when he got home and you rushed out of the kitchen. Early. Too early. That normally wasn’t a good sign. He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t frowning. When he looked at you, you were even more confused. There was something in his eyes, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen it.

You set your oven mitt on the counter. “Baby?”

He walked up to you, just watching. His eyes never left yours as he tossed his jacket onto the floor, loosened his tie, then unbuttoned the sleeves of his button-up.

“Andy?”

He took your shoulders, turning you away from him. “The wall, walk to it.”

“What?”

He kissed the top of your head, then whispered, “Come on, baby, be a good girl and do as I say.”

You turned up to him curiously. It was one of those days, you were not allowed to argue. You would say yes, and he would make it worth your while. Currently, he was trying to call your bluff, he wanted you to say no almost as much as he wanted you to just say yes.

Andy liked it when you fought a little. Sometimes. To an extent. But never when he lost, and you were too scared of that possibility. Maybe the trial was extended and the stress was getting to him. He could use you for the relief, it was one of the most flattering compliments you’d ever received. Besides, he offered you the same when you had a rough day at work.

You looked forward and made your way to the wall. Was it wrong that you were already wet? There was something about Andy. Something irresistible when he spoke to you this way, when he was in one of these moods. Something so sexy when he let you have no room to breathe, to compromise, to pull away from him at all. You were his completely and he was reminding you.

“Take your shirt off.”

You did so, attempting to hide that you were shaking. You weren’t scared, but the things you were anticipating were terrible. The way you wanted him to fuck you until you were incapable of thinking or speaking.

“Touch yourself?”

Your hands immediately went to your breasts, uncaring of how cold your skin was. Your wedding ring, especially, something that never failed to make you smile whenever it brushed your skin. You pulled on your nipples hard, letting your head fall back as you moaned.

It was a few minutes of nothing but the whimpers that came from you, before he said, “Your shorts.”

Again, you obliged. Only, this time you did so with less haste because you weren’t wearing any underwear. You expected sex, that was always a given regardless of win or loss, but you hadn’t thought it would work out so perfectly.

You hadn’t heard him move closer so when he grabbed your ass, you startled. You reached back for him, but he took your wrists in his hands and set them back to your sides.

“Keep them there. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, okay?”

“I know,” you promised. “I always know.”

“I know sometimes I don’t take care of you like I should…I get lost in a case because I believe that’s the only way I will win. But I want you to know that nothing is more important to me than you. I could win a million cases, but it doesn’t mean a thing if I can’t come home to you after every single one.”

“Andy, there’s never been a second that I’ve ever doubted it. And I love you. You know that? I don’t care about the cases, I don’t care that sometimes you come to bed late or sometimes you’re distracted, you’re the best man I know and you’re just trying to help people.”

“I know you do, baby.” His arms wrapped around your waist and he set his chin to your shoulder. “I was thinking about you the entire time today.”

You smiled. “What were you thinking?”

“How badly I wanted to be inside you.”

“Because last night wasn’t enough?” It had to be quick, it had to be a lot of things. It wasn’t disappointing, he never was, but it seemed like it only left both of you wanting so much more. Sometimes, you had to wonder if he did that as encouragement to speed up whatever he was doing.

“I will never get enough of you, my love. You know, I have this awful fantasy… Wanna hear about it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s whenever I feel like I’m losing…like I’ve just made a mistake, and all I want is you laid out on the table before me. I want to watch you fuck your fingers until you can’t move, until you’re shaking and crying, begging me to get you off because you can’t do it anymore.”

“You want them all to watch?” you wondered.

“Yeah, maybe… Maybe I want them to hear the way you scream my name, the way you beg me to fuck you harder, when you ask me to choke you. I want them to see how wet I can get your pussy without even touching it.”

“Then what?”

“Then I want to fill you up and watch my cum drip out of you.”

You sighed longingly. That was your favorite part of Saturday mornings. Most of them were spent fucking and he loved coming inside you, loved making you stand up so he could see it trail down your thighs, or getting you down to your knees so he could see it on the floor after he finished in your mouth.

“Like the sound of that?”

You nodded.

“Then I’ll make you clean it off the table with your tongue.”

You tried not to blush, clearing your throat quietly. “The end?”

“Of that one,” he confirmed.

You turned up to him, a pleading look on your face. Andy rarely ever told you about the weird shit he thought of. It was always a relaxed progression and sometimes, you felt like he was holding back.

He smirked. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll tell you some more.”

“I’ll be good,” you promised.

“I know,” he assured. “You always are.”

You nodded. “Always.”

“Okay, ‘always’ was an exaggeration,” he scoffed.

“No, always.”

He kissed the pout off your face and took your chin in his hand to face you forward again. His palm trailed up your cheekbone and into your hair. As he pressed you into the wall, he angled your face so that your cheek was pinned there.

You shuddered when you felt the first smack across your ass. It was very light, more noise than anything else, but it was enough for you.

“This is another one,” he informed. “The idea of people watching you get so needy to be spanked. The things you say, the way your body moves because you need it so bad, how you cry because you want more. I want to bend you over that table and spank you for hours until your entire ass is red.”

You made a small pleading noise, pressing your hips back more. He understood immediately and repeated the hit on the opposite side. “Andy,” you whimpered. “Please.”

You weren’t sure what you were asking for. You needed relief, you needed an answer. You had to know if he won or lost because you needed to act accordingly. You figured him not telling you in a straightforward way was just another way of either regaining or maintaining control.

You reached back without his permission, which you knew was pushing it, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your hands found the button of his pants and you indelicately tore them open. You pressed your palm up and down the length of his cock.

It took him a moment to recover but he swatted your hands away and yanked his pants down. His hands closed around your upper arms and he pulled them back, propping your chest up as he used his own body to press you completely into the wall. It was cold enough that you tried to squirm away, but he gave you no room to move.

“Andy,” you whimpered. “Please, I need you inside me.”

He slipped his arm between both of yours and your back, you couldn’t move and that was exactly what he wanted. He used his other hand to tease you with the head of his cock. He slid up and down your soaking cunt several times and when he finally pressed in, even though it was just a little, you shuddered.

“Ask for it, baby.”

“Please,” you choked out. “Please, please fuck me. Andy, please, I need you.”

He pushed in the rest of the way and you both moaned. It was humiliating how badly you needed this. Though, last night was different. He was stressed, you spent most of the time on his lap until he couldn’t take not being in control anymore and threw you down on the coffee table.

He let you adjust around him, all the while kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck. When you turned your head back slightly, he kissed your cheek and nudged your attention back to the wall with his nose. He placed one hand on the wall for some balance, set his chin on your shoulder, and slowly pulled out.

You let your forehead rest against the wall. “Fuck, Andy.”

His hips bucked forward and yours slammed into the wall. Perhaps this was potentially dangerous, perhaps not the best investment for your hips in the far future, but fuck, this was too good to suggest that he be gentler. Last thing you wanted.

As he found a steady pace, pulling out almost completely, and pushing back in as deep as he could, you couldn’t stop moaning. He had found that spot inside you and didn’t shy away from it. There would be no teasing tonight, just him fucking you until you couldn’t stand.

His hand on the wall slid down, catching your attention. You were sure he was about to reach for your neck, but instead, he placed it over your mouth to stifle your screams.

“I want them all to hear this, too,” he muttered in your ear. “How absolutely wet your pussy is for my cock.” You had never heard anything more obscene than when he would thrust back in, to the point where his body was flush against yours, the wet sound echoed and your cheeks burned but Andy truly seemed to love it. “And this sound,” he pulled his hips back at an agonizingly slow pace, “when your pussy is desperately trying to lock me inside because you know there’s no better feeling than my cock.”

You felt as though you currently had no control over your body. It always did what it pleased in reaction to Andy, but when he decided to take advantage of the desire you felt for him, that was enough to make even you blush. It wasn’t like being married to Andy left any room for modesty or even tradition. He was a creative and demanding man who wanted to explore you in every way he could imagine.

He kept you as quiet as he could, all while grunting in your ear. Normally, you were much louder than him and you could barely hear the sounds he made, now it was all you could hear. And you had been under the impression you couldn’t get wetter, but those deep sounds that you felt from his chest where he was pressed against you and his hot breath against your skin did something to you that you couldn’t explain.

He chanted your name when he was close and it was enough to give you a completely numbing orgasm. You knew Andy loved you, but sometimes you got so lost in your own pleasure that you weren’t sure where he stood. Andy had the complex job of reassuring you that he physically wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, he didn’t seem to mind having to do so. Actually, it seemed he enjoyed the creativity that was required.

You were shaking as he continued to pound into you at this agonizingly slow pace. He was never slow because he simply couldn’t make himself hold back, but that was no longer the case. You felt the tension in his body, you could feel his muscles moving, struggling to hold onto that admirable restraint that first attracted you to him. He let his hand move to your jaw and you instantly began blurting out his name, how much you loved him, how you just needed him to keep going, and pleaded for him to fill you with his cum.

When he did, he pressed his body flat over yours. You paid no mind to how uncomfortable your arms felt trapped between your bodies or how some of your bones were digging into the wall, you simply reveled in the feeling of him finishing inside you and the moans that poured from his open mouth.

His breaths were short and his chest was moving quickly. He stayed inside you while he was coming down, chin still laid on your shoulder, head now angled to rest against your hair. He continued to hold your arms back and your jaw in his hand, and now his thumb and fingers were moving, rubbing these delicate shapes into your cheeks. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” you echoed. It always gave you butterflies when he requested that. It was so simple, so sweet, so little. But his voice always told you that was all he needed. Andy was not a high maintenance husband, he just wanted to be loved wholeheartedly and unconditionally.

He pulled you from the wall and his hands roamed over every inch of your skin. He started with your hips, working up to your breasts where he grabbed them hard and pinched your nipples. He moved down your stomach to your pussy, spreading you with one hand when his other hand traced a soft, careful circle around your clit.

You rested back against him, sighing. “I love you.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in encouragement. He kept you against him even as he began to walk back from the wall.

“I love you,” you repeated. “I love you.”

He turned you both around, moving toward the table while you continued to say it. It was awkward trying to walk with him still inside you and would have been impossible if not for his impressive length.

You had assumed he was going to bend you over and fuck you. That he would pull your hair, spank you, make you tell him how bad you wanted it. Nope, he wasn’t feeling predictable. It wasn’t like you ever minded Andy’s predictability, he still made your toes curl. In fact, you liked the stability of how he made love to you. You liked that he made the world outside just disappear with his insistence on taking care of you and letting you take care of him. However, that didn’t mean you would turn down anything else. You were always humiliatingly eager for whatever Andy wanted you to have.

He pulled out and took your arms once more, turning you to face him before he pushed you back onto the table. “Lie down.”

You were careful as you obliged, trying to keep the cum from dripping out of you. You gasped when he took your waist and yanked you down to the edge of the table.

He angled your hips up and you set your calves on top of his shoulders. He pushed in and then pulled out inch by inch, watching the entire time. His cock was covered in cum that he would have much preferred to see on you, so he took himself in his hand and spread what he could over your pussy and your thighs.

“Andy,” you said quietly.

His eyes flit up for a moment before his hand pressed down between your legs and his gaze followed.

“Andrew,” you huffed.

He lifted an eyebrow at you. “Y/N?”

“What happened? With the case?” After what he just did, you would spend the rest of the night on your knees with your mouth around him if he wanted it. Normally, when he lost, he did.

“Number one rule, baby. We don’t talk about work here.”

“The table?”

“Well, we said the bedroom—”

“You said the bedroom—”

“But I’m fucking you here, so it still counts.” Before you could protest, he leaned over and kissed the center of your stomach.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t respond verbally, he merely kissed up the middle of your torso, between your breasts before veering off to the side. He gently kissed around your nipple, then swiped his tongue over it.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your hand came up to tangle in his hair.

He repeated the same on the opposite breast before trailing up to your mouth. You loved kissing Andy. Sometimes, you would both spend the entire morning in bed just kissing. Hours. Just pressed against each other. Smiling. Laughing. Whispering against the other’s lips. It was also Andy’s favorite recovery activity. The quickest way to get him hard again.

He was resting on his forearm, opposite hand touching your face as his lips moved with yours. His kisses were long and breath-taking, just like the first time he kissed you and how he had been kissing you ever since. Sure, there were the chaste goodbye kisses, the moments when a kiss like this would result in both of you not wanting to separate even if the world was ending so you would have to keep them short and innocent, but most of the time, Andy acted like his job was to pour as much love into every kiss he gave you.

He broke away to touch his lips to your cheek, your jaw, your forehead, your nose. That was always how he liked to end it as he was stroking himself until he was ready to fuck you again.

He stood as he pressed into your asshole, eyes fixed on where your bodies connected.

Your back arched as your arms shot out to grab to the edges of the table. He was slow about it, you would even say cruel. He watched you with unconcealed smugness, a truly animalistic part of Andy enjoyed how much you enjoyed him fucking your ass. It was the noises you made, the tears that would fill your eyes because it was so good, the way you would press your body back further, wordlessly pleading for more. When he wouldn’t give in, you became impatient and bratty, and he loved having to put you back in your place.

He wouldn’t do it this time, however. He could tell you were too tired, too focused on him and the case. His hand found your center again where he rubbed your clit with just the tips of his fingers.

You were whimpering, your hips jumped, your legs pulled him in closer where they were still draped over his shoulders, you clawed at the table, possibly left some marks. This was always his goal, to get you so mindless and dependent on the things only he could make you feel, and it was an exhausting process, but you wouldn’t want anything else.

He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to your clit. “Don’t stop unless I tell you to.”

With two fingers pressed flat, you began tracing sloppy circles over your pussy. You didn’t have the muscle control to focus on one small area at this point, but you caught your clit enough times to get yourself close.

He leaned over you, hands pressing down on either side of you as his hips picked up speed. His eyes were locked on yours, desperate to see that overly loving look you gave him every time he made you orgasm.

You let your legs fall from his shoulders, wrapping them around his torso. He couldn’t be slow anymore or even remotely controlled. His hands pushed you up the table as he crawled onto it as well. He practically collapsed on top of you, his hips driving into you so hard the table was starting to move just a little.

You pulled your hand away even though he didn’t tell you that you could and grabbed his shoulders. He pressed his body flat against yours so that his pelvis would rub against your clit with every thrust.

It had been so long since you left scratches on his back. He liked them, but you were sure they had to hurt, so you attempted to find other coping mechanisms. But then, it had been so long since he was this uncontrolled, and as your nails dragged down his skin, that only encouraged him.

The table squeaked against the hardwood floor, skin slapped skin, and moans and curses fell from his mouth. You were breathless, a scream caught in your throat while he coaxed you closer to a finish. Anywhere you touched him, you could feel his muscles moving, his back, his ass, his thighs.

He fucked you without his usual concern of possibly being too rough, he simply did not care in that moment. He grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back. He kissed and bit over the parts of your breasts he could reach. His hands moved along your sides, fingers digging into your hips or pressing your thighs up further to open your body even more for him.

When you informed him you were close, he leveled himself to see your face. His brow was furrowed and it was fascinating to see the way the blue of his eyes moved. Not to sound like such a cliché, but it reminded you of waves in the ocean.

“Come on,” he panted, “I want to hear you begging.”

“Please, please, please.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself just a little closer to him. “Please, I want to feel you come inside me.”

“Yeah?” he cooed. “In your ass?”

You nodded frantically. “Please. Please come in my ass.”

His head dropped to the bend of your neck where he bit down rather hard to drown out the sound that followed his orgasm. You didn’t mind even though you knew there would be a mark, even though you knew your coworkers would eye you. No one was surprised anymore, they had this image of your husband as the sex-crazed lawyer, and in reality, were they wrong? Not exactly.

You were just seconds after him, wrapping yourself around him as tight as you could. You sobbed his name and about a million other incoherent things while he kissed around that tender spot that his teeth had just been, whispering how much he loved you and how good you were.

He pulled out and kissed you after you whimpered. He rolled over, lying flat on the table and bringing you up to his side. His fingers brushed through your hair and you both attempted to get your breathing back to normal.

You were silent, reveling in the feeling of his cum slipping from your ass down the back of your thighs. Your skin was sticky and you were sweating, your hair was sticking to your forehead and your back. You couldn’t have looked beautiful, but Andy still kissed the top of your head and claimed otherwise.

You turned your head up to him after you had both settled. “Did you lose?”

He scoffed. “You have such faith in me.”

“You’re the only person I have faith in. The jury? Well, any time you lose, they’re morons.”

He smiled. “I guess they were smart this time.”

You lifted yourself onto your forearms. “You won? Baby, you should have told me! I baked a billion cookies, but…we should celebrate! I can make a reservation, we could go—”

He took a handful of your hair and pulled your mouth against his for a slow kiss. He was the one who broke away, just to see that dumb look on your face whenever he surprised you with a kiss. “We did just celebrate.”

“No, I want to do something special for you.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Well, I have a few ideas.”

You realized exactly where his mind was going, the last place you had suspected. Really, you should know better by now. “What other boxes do you want to check? You’ve tied me up. You’ve bent me over a Paris balcony. You’ve fucked me everywhere in this house. You’ve fucked me in the car. My childhood bedroom in my parent’s house.”

“I have a long list of all the things I still want to do to you.”

“So, tell me what you want.”

He leaned up and kissed your nose. “Let’s clean up and order some food, I’ll think about it.”

You rolled your eyes as you watched him get off the table. “And was ‘list’, like, a figure of speech? Or do you have a physical list?”

He hesitated a moment before glancing back at you.

It was totally an existing list that he had hidden somewhere and suddenly, you wanted it more than anything else in the world. “I will burn this house to the ground if that’s what I need to do to find that list, Andrew.”

He snorted. “Well, good luck because you will never find it.”

#andy barber x reader #always accepting andy requests just fyi #my writing

[plasticnightmaredoll]

Ok, so I had to do this after reading @justasimplesinner ‘s absolutely adorable and precious h/cs for Arkham Knight Riddler meeting his s/o’s family for the first time. I mean, AK!Eddie being happy? Having some sort of family? It hits me right in the feels 😭

But I was inspired to write something similar for Telltale Riddler and his s/o but with a twist. I mean, it’s already going to be quite different considering how Telltale Riddler is, but I’m taking things a little further and getting a bit personal. Since I self-ship with him, I figured, why not turn these h/cs into self-insert ones? 

Basically, Telltale Riddler meeting my family for the first time on Christmas. 

The h/cs will reflect what the reality of my family is like but I won’t get, like, too personal. Y’all don’t need to know everything.

Pre-headcanons warnings to be fair: 

There is a little but of smut at the end. Nothing explicit but it’s a little bit spicy. 

These are self-insert headcanons, not reader-insert ones

This is an age-gap pairing since I’m 33 years old and Telltale Riddler is 60 years old.

Anyway, let’s head on into these h/cs for Telltale Riddler meeting my folks for the first time (and that seems awkward as hell to write but hey, I’m fictosexual so....🤷‍♀️)

There is a little bit of smut at the end. Nothing explicit but it’s definitely a little spicy.  

It’s the first Christmas spent with Eddie since becoming a couple, and it’s also kind of an awkward time because family, you know? And, well, my parents don’t know I’m dating anyone...let alone THE Riddler. 

It’s going to be a challenge getting them to accept me dating someone nearly twice my age (I’m 33 and Edward’s 60, but damn, did he age like fine wine or what?) But revealing that it’s the goddamn Riddler? 

So, yeah, I’m freaking out but I also realize that I have to tell them eventually because it’s only fair, for one, and keeping it a secret for a long time would just make things worse if -- or more realistically, when -- my parents found out on their own. 

Plus, I’m not ashamed or afraid to date Edward. He treats me much differently than he treats most other people, and I want my parents to know that, yeah, he’s Riddler, a criminal mastermind but honestly, he treats me better than any guy has and I’m actually happy.

Edward isn’t nervous but he’s concerned because he doesn’t want to complicate things between my parents and me, doesn’t want to bring unnecessary drama and angst into my life. He can handle people disliking him -- hating him -- but he doesn’t want the only person he’s ever truly cared for to have a damaged relationship with her family because of him.

But we discuss it and decide it’s better to just go ahead and do it. Rip off the band aid and get the pain out of the way as fast as possible, so to speak. Whatever happens, happens, and hopefully it’s nothing (too) upsetting.

I call my parents and tell them I’m coming to visit for Christmas, and I reveal -- while my hands are shaking and my heart is pounding from the anxiety consuming me -- that I want to bring my boyfriend.

Oh, I have a boyfriend? For how long? How did we meet? What’s he like? What’s his name? Why the wait to tell them about him?

I know it wouldn’t go over well to just show up at my parents home hanging off of the goddamn Riddler’s arm, like, “Oh, hey, my boyfriend is a criminal genius, don’t ya know?”

So, I approach telling them over the phone the truth slowly, cautiously. I say his name is Edward and we met kind of by accident and we’ve been dating for a good portion of the year. It’s my first Christmas with him, actually.

Wait, it’s been that long and I never told my them?! What the hell?!

Needless to say, they are baffled and also concerned about this news. 

I explain the awkward but less, uh, shocking news that he is an older man, and I was worried they’d be upset about that. They ask how old Edward is and I hesitate, wondering if I should lie and say he’s, like, in his early 50s because he could easily pass for that age. Hell, even I thought he was in his early 50s (or even very late 40s) when I first met him. 

However, honesty is the best policy, and this is not even the “bad” news yet. 

I say that he just turned 60 years old this year in a calm, cool, casual tone, like I’m talking about the weather and not revealing to my parents that I’m dating a guy who is my dad’s age.

There is silence and I internally panic because if they’re angered or appalled by this, they’re not going to handle finding out who Edward is well at all.

They are surprised, a little worried for my wellbeing because they think Edward’s some perverted Sugar Daddy to me. They don’t say it like that but it’s heavily implied.

I explain that’s not the case at all, that he’s actually very sweet towards me. 

My folks decide to go along with this bit of news because hey, I’m 33 years old. I’m an adult. I can date an older man if I want.

Then comes the “fun” part, which is revealing to them what Edward does for a living.

I laugh nervously, and Edward, who has been patiently sitting beside me on the couch, realizes what I’m about to tell my parents. He watches me closely, hoping this doesn’t turn into a disaster for my sake.

“Yeah, so, Edward, yeah...Edward is...well, he’s, um...Well, he’s, he’s a genius. Like a tech genius, great with electrical engineering, computers. And uh, his job, his profession, his, um, career? Yeah, that’s...well, he’s...”

I take a deep breath and prepare for the worst.

“He’s The Riddler, one of Gotham’s...elite....masterminds.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is so terrifying that I feel like I’m going to faint from how anxious I am. Edward places a hand on my knee as a means of comfort, still wanting to give me some space to breathe and calm down. 

My parents aren’t...thrilled, to say the least. I’m dating a fucking criminal mastermind?! I’m dating RIDDLER? THE RIDDLER? What the goddamn fresh hell is this?!

I start crying because I’m so stressed about this, and Edward moves closer so he can put his arm around me. He feels bad, he really does, and it shows in his troubled expression, but there’s not much he can do. It’s not like we can take this back and say, “Oh, hey, just kidding!” No, this was the truth and now we were dealing with the consequences.

I manage to get my parents to calm down long enough so I can get a word in. I get up off the couch and walk to another room to speak to them alone. 

I tell them I know it’s not the most pleasant news to hear, and I know it seems awful, but it’s the first time I have been with a man and he’s treated me well. Like, really well. It’s not just the nice gifts or expensive dinners. Edward does genuinely care about me. I don’t feel like a “booty call,” he doesn’t ignore me, he doesn’t threaten me, he’s never abused me and never will. He’s not the same person with me as he is with some other people. I wouldn’t be dating him otherwise.

It takes some more convincing, but once I get it through to my parents that yes, I’m actually happy and yes, I’m safe and yes, Edward is a very doting boyfriend, they decide to meet him at Christmas. I know they will still have concerns and may be a bit cold to Edward at first, but I hope they would see what I see.

The day arrives and I’m a nervous wreck. Edward is worried for me. He  assures me that everything will be ok, and I want to believe but I’m still scared.

Deep down, he thinks maybe dating me is a bad idea -- not because he doesn’t love me but because he feels like he could damage my relationship with my parents. However, he doesn’t bring this up as he doesn’t want me to be even more upset than I already am.

Edward had brought with him some gifts for my parents and my grandma (she was staying with them, too). He brought the most most beautiful bouquet of flowers and a necklace for my grandma, a very lovely diamond bracelet for my mom, and a high-quality (aka expensive) watch for my dad.

I had to dress to impress and by that, dress in things Edward had given me to give my parents more visual proof that he was taking care of me. But I was careful not to overdo it. I didn’t want my parents to think I was his piece of...eye candy.

When we arrive, my parents greet us at the door, giving me a much warmer welcome than they give to Edward. They’re not rude to him, but they look uneasy, even a little irritated. 

Edward, being the charming bastard he is, keeps his calm and showcases his gentlemanly side. It’s genuine because he IS quite the gentleman as I have learned, but I don’t know if it will be enough to convince my parents to accept him.

They appreciate the gifts, seem a little caught off guard by the pricey but very lovely things Edward bought them. They also notice I’m wearing a dress that cost a pretty penny and jewelry just as extravagant. But none of it’s gaudy. 

Basically, I don’t look like Riddler’s trophy girlfriend.

Edward is courteous and charming, which seems to help my mom relax a bit. My dad still looks rather tense, though.

My grandma, being 90 and having frequent issues with memory, doesn’t remember who Edward actually is. My parents told her but she had forgotten and it was probably for the best. 

My grandma is impressed with Edward, finds him to be a proper, handsome gentleman type. She also was very grateful for the gifts he brought her.

Edward is very patient with my grandma, which I know isn’t easy due to her memory problems. But he is very relaxed, behaving pretty much like he does around me.

We all have dinner and chat, and the tension in the air lightens. My parents even laugh at a few humorous comments from Edward. He thanks my parents for allowing him to visit and for the wonderful dinner, and offers to help my parents clean up. 

Good. This gives my parents time alone with Edward which, as nerve-wracking as it is for me, is something that needs to happen. They need a one-on-one with my boyfriend...and hopefully it didn’t turn into a mess.

I stay with my grandma and act like everything’s fine as I anxiously wait to find out what my parents will ultimately think of Edward.

They are upfront with him once they’re alone with him, asking him if he’s putting up some kind of act or if this is all really him. They also ask if he genuinely cares for me or if he’s just using me because I’m “young and pretty.” They don’t hide their feelings, my parents, and they are concerned for my safety and happiness above all else. They NEED to know that Edward is good to me despite being Riddler. They can’t tell me who to be with but it would put their mind at ease if they were assured I was in good hands.

Edward is honest with them. He isn’t putting on a front. He is gentlemanly by nature with people he likes and respects, and he’s a bit old-fashioned in some ways anyway due to his age. He doesn’t fake his feelings for anyone, and while he does want my parents to accept him as my boyfriend, he knows it’s not an easy choice. He also tells them they have every right to reject him, and he won’t hold a grudge towards them about it if they do. 

If anything, he’s earned scorn more than kindness due to how he’s lived his life, and that’s fair. He accepts that.

But then he explains that no, I am not eye candy for him. He’s not a play boy looking for a “good time.” He’s serious about me and feels things towards me he’s never felt--never expected to feel. I’m the one thing in his dark and violent life that is bright and soothing, even though he’s done nothing in his life to deserve such a sweet and caring partner.

He tells them that I’m always protected and cared for, and he has made arrangements to ensure I’m still protected and cared for if -- or more realistically, when something happens to him. 

Being Riddler’s girlfriend has its perks. No one messes with me, that’s for sure, because they know I’m important to him, and they know what he is willing to do to keep me safe.

As scary as that is to hear, my parents find some relief in that. Yes, Edward is The Riddler, a criminal mastermind who strikes fear into many. However, he takes care of what is precious to him -- and not much is precious to him. Actually, nothing is save for me. I bring him a lot of joy and much-needed peace, and he’d give his life to protect me. 

I deserve to be happy, he tells my parents, because I am a good person unlike him, and he works hard to make sure I know I’m loved and cared for, that I’m good enough and that he has no intentions of leaving me or cheating on me for someone else.

Edward also assures my parents that, should they need anything, he can provide. Of course, he won’t force his help on them but he won’t ever turn them away either. He looks out for those that mean a lot to me, who are close to me, regardless of who they are and how they feel about him. That is a promise he makes to my parents, too.

He also comments on how they have been taking care of my grandma pretty much on their own for a couple years now, and he knows from what he has observed and from things I’ve told him that it is a very exhausting duty. It’s an admirable one, though, for sure, and he respects my parents for being good people. 

He sees where I get my kind nature, he tells them.

He says that he can pay for live-in help for them, like a live-in nurse, someone who can help take care of my grandma and let my parents have a break every now and again. Also, should she need anything that isn’t covered by her insurance, he will cover the costs.

Same goes for my parents, who aren’t the healthiest people in their old age (Edward has the regenerative properties of the LOTUS virus on his side -- they don’t). He doesn’t tell them that obviously, that they’re unhealthy, but he says should they need any expenses covered for treatments, medication, etc., he can provide.

Because he is THAT serious about me.

My parents are, to say the least, much more confident in my relationship with Edward now that they’ve talked with him one on one. They give him their blessing, so to speak, to be my boyfriend, and appreciate his generosity. They do ask for help with live-in aid for my grandma, and Edward says pick who they want and he’ll pay whatever insurance won’t cover. 

I am beyond relieved that my parents have decided to accept Edward, and am so grateful to him for offering his help to them...because they need it and deserve it.

He tells me it’s no trouble at all, that whatever makes me happy makes him happy, and he’s more than willing to aid those that are important to me.

Edward and I stay over Christmas Eve so we can spend more time with my family on Christmas Day. We get the guest room which has a small bed, so we’re “forced” to get close.

Of course, I can’t resist tempting him even now, and he doesn’t turn me down. I do warn him that we have to be careful because, hey, my folks are here in this house and I’m not the quietest lover.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he tells me with a smirk. “I came prepared for any eventuality.”

Needless to say, I need to be gagged because Edward makes sure I have a Merry Fucking Christmas -- literally -- and also makes sure I know how much he both loves and desires me.

We decide to leave out the whole Dom/Sub aspect of our relationship in regards to my parents. 

We also don’t tell them about how I call Edward, “Daddy” almost any other time 👀👀👀👀💦💦💦💦💦💦

My mom also refuses to believe he’s 60 years old because he’s so good-looking  😄

#telltale riddler #edward nigma #the riddler #riddler #self-insert #self-shipping #riddler headcanons #edward nygma #slightly nsft

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Hazy Horizons (Part Two)

Summary: In the wake of their lives being turned upside down and losing their son, Andy and Laurie Barber move to Maine, in search of starting over and starting a new family, by any means necessary

Features/Warnings: Dark!Fic; Dubcon/Noncon; Drugging; Manipulation; Smut; Breeding Kink

Series Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon; Manipulation; Breeding Kink; Drugging

Pairing: Dark!Andy Barber/Reader/Dark!Laurie Barber

Notes: I’m baaaaack. Again, don’t know if there will be another part to this. The ending leaves it open to a third part. You should really read the first part, especially if you’re curious about why the houses are like that (it’s 100% a plot device because  why not) 

Please bear in mind that this is/will be a dark fic. You’re responsible for the content you choose to read.

Word Count: 3322

You found yourself spending more time with the Barbers. It was easy to fall into routine. You were all the newest people in a town that didn’t get very many. Sticking together made sense, in the beginning. The first new friends in a new place. 

They had invited you on a getaway to a local lake. Work had been a pain as of late for you and you welcomed the late summer getaway. It was only the start of the new school year and you were already stressed out. You were travelling together. It made sense not to waste gas by taking two cars. 

“How’s work going?” Andy asked as he pulled out of the driveway. You sighed. 

“It’s...getting easier. I started at the end of the year last year. The teacher I replaced was well loved. And I, well, I’m not...not like her,” you said, biting your lower lip as a reflex. You didn’t catch the way Andy watched you through the rearview. 

“Are the kids giving you a hard time?” Laurie asked, concern laced in her tone. 

“Not so much the freshmen. Some of the upperclassmen though. I had my first observation and it went awful. They usually aren’t that bad but it’s like they knew they could mess things up for me,” you explained. It stung. Your principal at least had realized what was going on. Especially when your mentor teacher told her that most kids liked you. There were the few however, who were still upset that the teacher they had wanted to have for the class had left midway through the year. 

“Is it going to count against you?” Andy asked.

“My principal said she’s not counting that as my first evaluation and said my next one will be during a class with my freshmen,” you told him. The rest of the drive to the lake was filled with light conversation. 

While the late summer air was starting to turn to early autumn, there were still many who took refuge at the lake on the weekend. You learned that the Barbers had also bought a house up on the lake. You supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised. Andy was an attorney and a damn good one at that. 

You and Laurie headed to lay out in the sun while Andy set about opening up the house to let the air circulate and cool it down after a few weeks of no one being there. 

“Anyone special in your life?” Laurie asked casually. You almost choked on your water, not expecting the question.

“No, no. There’s this one guy I work with but I’m not interested in him. He’s a little too...I don’t know. He’s just not my type,” you explained. 

“What is your type?” Laurie asked, glancing over at you. You thought for a moment.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never dated much. Never had the time. High school was hell. I double majored in college and focused on school. I dated a guy, but it was a mistake. It was great at first, but things ended poorly. Now, I’m taking time for myself. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be and all that,” you said with a shrug. She nodded. 

“What are you two ladies talking about now?” Andy asked as he sat down on the empty chair. 

“Nothing you’d find interesting, sweetheart,” Laurie said. She gave him a look you couldn’t quite figure out. As much as you liked and trusted the Barbers, there was something that seemed off. You could never place what it was and brushed it off. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laurie knew she should have felt bad about slipping something in your tea, but she told herself it was what needed to be done. She and Andy both had connections, which was how they had gotten their hands on what they needed. 

“She asleep?” Andy asked as he walked into the room. You were passed out on top of the covers. 

“Has been for about thirty minutes now. I found her pills,” Laurie said. Andy smiled at his wife. 

“Did you swap them?” he asked, his tone low. Laurie nodded.

“The only thing left to do is ensure she’s not going out on dates,” Laurie replied. 

“I can handle that,” Andy said. It helped that you weren’t actively looking. But if that teacher you mentioned persisted, Andy would be forced to act. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up the next morning surprised by how long you had slept. You hadn’t slept that long in years. You made your way down to the kitchen and found the Barbers making breakfast. It was past the time they would normally be up.

“We had a bit of a lay in this morning too. How’s you sleep?” Andy asked as he flipped some bacon in the pan. Laurie was already making a cup of coffee for you.

“Honestly, I haven’t slept that well in ages. Whatever was in that tea worked magic, Laurie,” you said. Laurie smiled at you.

“Family secret,” she replied. You nodded. The nagging feeling of something being off was back, but you brushed it off. The Barbers were good people. You knew they were. 

The weekend ended sooner than you would have liked. You loved your job, but the stress that came with it was too much at times. Monday morning saw you back in your classroom, writing out the objectives for your classes on the board. You weren’t surprised when Jim Schuyler appeared in your doorway.

“How was your weekend?” he asked. You took a breath before responding. Jim had been trying to get you to go out with him since you moved to town. You weren’t interested and he seemed to not take the hint. 

“Good, good. Went on a trip with some friends,” you explained.

“Friends? Anyone I know?” he asked.

“The Barbers. We’re neighbors,” was all you provided. His expression changed. You knew some in town didn’t like or trust the Barbers. Even though Jacob had been proven innocent, the dark cloud still hung over them, especially when rumors followed from Boston about the accident that had taken his life.

“You should stay away from them. Their son was a murderer. Hell, the wife probably caused that accident intentionally,” he said. You looked over at him, glaring.

“And you should learn to take a hint and learn to not judge people based on rumors. What happened to their son was a tragic accident. Someone else admitted to the murder,” you snapped. 

“People talk in this town. And I’d hate for your pristine reputation to be ruined by associating with them. Who takes a weekend trip as a third wheel to a couple? Mighty odd, don’t you think?” he taunted. 

“What do you want?” you asked.

“A date. With you. And maybe I won’t tell Rose Danielson that you went on a romantic getaway with the Barbers. Think of the scandal that would cause. Our newest teacher, engaged in a salacious relationship with a grieving married couple? Tsk tsk,” he said. 

“They’re my friends. I’m not ready to date anyone,” you replied, your voice shaking. 

“I’ll give you a few days to come to your senses. After all, I am a gentleman,” he said before leaving your room. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You all but slammed the door when you returned home from work. Jim Schuyler was despicable. Blackmailing you into a date. It would be his word against yours and you knew more people would listen to him. He’d been in town longer. Why would he lie about something? 

You weren’t surprised by the knock on the door that connected your home to the Barber’s. You had tentatively dropped plans to get rid of the connection. Laurie stood at the door. 

“Sounds like you had a rough day,” she said. You sighed.

“Jim Schuyler’s trying to blackmail me into going out with him,” you admitted after a moment of silence passed between the two of you. 

“What? With what?” she asked as you moved aside so she could come in. 

“I mentioned the trip we took this weekend. He threatened to twist it into something it’s not. You’ve seen how this town is. Laurie, he starts spreading rumors and I’m not sure my reputation recovers, no matter how false they are. The school board would find a way to fire me,” you told her, panic laced in your voice. You sat down on the couch and she joined you, placing a hand on your back and rubbing small, soothing circles. 

“We’ll figure something out. You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like him,” she soothed. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A month passed, and then a second. Winter break had arrived and Jim Schuyler still hadn’t come asking about his proposition. If you didn’t know he’d been threatening to blackmail you, you’d think he was going out of his way to avoid you. As it was, you were spending an evening with Laurie and Andy. The three of you had settled in to watch a movie. Laurie had brought you a drink. The next thing you knew, you were drifting off into a comfortable sleep. 

You blinked several times as your eyes adjusted. You were under covers but you were clothed in nothing more than a slip of a nightgown. The last thing you remembered clearly was falling asleep on the Barber’s couch. You had a standing movie night with them. It wasn’t out of the norm for you to fall asleep during it. What was out of the norm was  waking up in a bed in clothes you knew you didn’t fall asleep in. 

You knew who they were now, of course. It was hard not to and they had told you in their own time. Your heart broke for them when you found out. You couldn’t imagine being in their shoes. But now wasn’t the time to think of that. You weren’t sure where you were or what was going on. The door opened and Andy walked in.

“I see you’re awake. You were out for a while. Wasn’t sure when you’d wake up,” he said, setting a glass of water on the nightstand. 

“Andy?” you asked. 

“Laurie will be in soon. You must be hungry. You’ve been asleep for over twelve hours,” he said, ignoring your question. You were confused. Why wouldn’t they have just brought you back to your house? They had a key for emergencies, you had trusted them with it. You were beginning to realize that the trust you had placed in the Barbers may have been misplaced. 

“Andy...where are my clothes?” you asked. You didn’t dare move. You didn’t want to give him a show. The nightgown you had on left very little to the imagination. 

“Laurie threw them in the wash. Don’t you remember?” he asked. 

“No...I, I can’t say that I do. Why didn’t you wake me up?” you asked him. Anxiety swirled around you. Something wasn’t right.

“You needed the sleep, sweetheart. You’ve been working so hard lately, especially with the holidays coming. We didn’t want to wake you,” Laurie said from the doorway. Winter break had just started. It was why you’d been at the Barber’s so late. She moved into the room, shutting the door gently behind her. You could tell you were in their room, which added to the alarm bells ringing in your head. You sat up, bringing the covers up to cover your chest. The nightgown did little to hide your cleavage. You were more a t-shirt and pajama bottoms kind of person, especially when you weren’t in your own home. 

She was dressed in a nightgown similar to yours. Andy was still in pajama bottoms, shirtless. They both looked at you with concern. 

“Why don’t we go downstairs and eat? The pizza just got here and we ordered your favorite,” Laurie said. 

“I should probably go home, get out of your hair,” you said, a slight tremble in your voice.

“Nonsense. We’ve got more than enough. We insist,” Andy said. You sighed. You didn’t feel comfortable leaving the bed dressed in so little clothing. Laurie pulled on a robe and held one out to you. It felt off. The two of you weren’t the same size and yet both the nightgown and robe fit you perfectly. 

You were quiet as you ate, still trying to figure out what it was the Barber’s wanted from you. What had flipped in the two you had come to consider close friends?

“I can’t wait to hear the sound of little feet running through here,” Laurie said, a soft smile on your face. You frowned. You hadn’t been aware they were trying to have a baby. It wasn’t your business, of course, but Laurie had confided in you that though they wanted to have more kids, they were worried about age related complications and didn’t want to take risks. 

“Are you guys fostering or something?” you asked as you finished your slice of pizza. You glanced toward the door that connected your homes. You noticed a new lock on it and something nagged at you. A warning sign. 

“No, we’re having a baby,” Andy said. The way he looked at you turned the warning sign into a flashing neon danger sign. Something had been off since the lake, in how they treated you. Laurie was always making sure you had healthy meals, especially when you were too tired to care about cooking. She had recommended some vitamins to you that you had started taking. You had no reason not to trust her. 

Things began clicking into place and you were hoping you were wrong. They had both mentioned on occasion wanting more children. No, a new child could never replace Jacob, but that didn’t change the fact that they wanted more kids, they wanted a chance to do better, be better, to not miss signs that something wasn’t right. But Laurie’s age was a consideration, along with injuries from the accident, and they were concerned no one would allow them to adopt. Laurie had brought it up to you a few times, never forced. She had asked you if you wanted kids. You had nodded. It was in the someday column, not the right now column, of things you wanted in life. 

“Laurie’s pregnant?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. You eyed the door once more, hoping it was unlocked. You saw the look they shared.

“No, sweetie. You know how we feel about the risk. We care about you, you know. We love you. We want to share this with you,” Laurie said. You swallowed. 

“You want me to be your surrogate?” you asked. Andy stood behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders as he leaned down.

“No. We want you to be more than that, sweetheart. You’re ours,” he said before kissing you. You struggled against him, trying to pull away, but you couldn’t. You were at a disadvantage with your position. He managed to pick you up and carry you to their room, all the while you tried to break away. He set you on the bed but didn’t let go of you. He knew you would try to make a break for it if he did. 

You struggled as Laurie pulled the nightgown off of you. Andy held your wrists in his hand, making Laurie’s task all the more easier. Andy used the material of the nightgown to tie your hands to the headboard. Laurie trailed a hand down your collarbone to your breasts, taking one in her hand and cupping it gently. 

“These will fill with milk soon enough, for our child. You’ll love it, you’ll see,” she said, before bending her head and taking your nipple in her mouth. You tried pushing her off with your body, but it was no use. Both she and Andy seemed to take it as a sign of your pleasure. 

“I’m on the pill. This won’t work,” you snapped. You shuddered at the chuckle that left Andy’s mouth.

“That? Honey. You’ve been taking sugar pills for months. It was so easy, you know. Waiting was torture, but we know you’re ready. You’re going to be an incredible mother,” Andy said before capturing your lips with his once more. You had missed him stripping down. You had missed Laurie taking off her own nightgown. You couldn’t deny they were both gorgeous humans. But this was wrong. So wrong. You didn’t want this. Not like this.

“We see how you look at us. You want us too,” Laurie said as she settled between your legs. 

“No,” you whispered. 

“You say that but,” Laurie said, pausing as she slipped a finger inside you, “your body seems to disagree.”

“No. No, it's a reaction. You can’t do this. I’ll go to the police,” you argued. 

“You know, we have so many connections. Even with us being new to town. How do you think that argument would hold up? Especially when the rumors still circulate about us, about our relationship? People already assume it, sweetheart. No one would believe you. They’d think you were a scorned lover,” Andy said as Laurie added another finger, curling them against a spot inside you that made you arch you back. You tried to stifle a moan as you felt her mouth on your clit.

“No,” you said. 

“Whether you like it or not, this is happening. I’m going to fill your pussy over and over again until it takes. Until you’re bred, full of the life of our child. You’ll love it. You’ll see,” Andy told you as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand. He lowered his head, mimicking the earlier actions of his wife.

“I think she likes the thought of you breeding her. She got wetter. You like the idea honey? Being a mommy? Letting Andy fuck your beautiful pussy over and over again? Keeping you nice and full like your fertile pussy should be?” she asked. You felt yourself dampen more at her words. Your face flushed in shame. How had you gotten here? Her mouth returned to your clit with more fervor than before. You felt another finger slide in with ease as she pulled you over the edge. You were coming down from your orgasm as you saw the pair exchange a kiss before Andy replaced her between your thighs. You wanted to push him off, but your hands were still bound.

He was big. Bigger than anyone you’d been with. Laurie moved to lay so she was looking at you, a smirk on her face.

“Gorgeous, isn’t he?” she asked. Andy made you watch as he slid into your heat inch by inch. Even with Laurie’s preparation there was still a stretch. When he bottomed out, he pulled you into another kiss.

“So tight, so perfect. Gonna fill you up, sweetheart, just like you need,” he said as he began to move. You couldn’t deny the pleasure that was building. You tried to bite back a moan.

“Let us hear you, sweetie. Let us hear how good we’re making you feel,” Laurie commanded. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Laurie’s fingers found your clit, pulling yet another orgasm out of you as Andy fell over the edge. You were barely coherent as something was put under your hips.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A month. A month was all it had taken. Laurie and Andy had ensured everyone in the whole damn county knew you were going to have their child, ensuring your compliance. There was no Plan B for you. Not unless you went hours away. And that was impossible when Laurie drove you to work after your car mysteriously had issues. The doors between the houses had been removed. You knew Andy was up to something.

Laurie sat waiting on the bed. Three sticks on the dresser, waiting. Three sticks that would hold your fate. Your stomach dropped as you read the word. Pregnant.

#defending jacob #andy barber #laurie barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber/reader/laurie barber #dark!laurie barber #laurie barber/reader #defending jacob fic #andy barber/reader #andy barber fic #dark!defending jacob #andy barber x reader x laurie barber