#it's been a million years since i shared my own content on tumblr. figured it might be fun to share my most recent ''niche''(?) cosplay her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stark-tony · 3 years

Text

tododeku fic recs

* = incomplete

meet you again someday (after we take the long way ’round) by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku's life is saved by a boy with the strongest Quirk he has ever seen.

Eventually - inevitably - he falls in love.(An AU in which Todoroki never attends UA, they never clash at the sports festival, but they come together all the same.)

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

that is just the way by celestialfics

summary: Shouto has his first sleepover.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

what is right and what is easy by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku is not chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. He does not slay a dragon, or rescue innocents, or brave a maze of dark magic. He does not win accolades, or fame, or glory.

Instead, Izuku meets the son of the greatest dark wizard of the age, a Durmstrang student with hair like a sunrise and eyes like a war. And maybe, he just might win something else.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku, tsuchako

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none

First Time For Everything by kazzarole

summary: Midoriya is the catalyst of many of the 'firsts' in Shouto's life--it just makes sense that Shouto should share his first kiss with him, too.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

alone together by celestialfics

summary: Five times when other Class 1-A kids notice Todoroki and Midoriya in their own world.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

A Simple Warmth by patster223

summary: “I’m trying to make Todoroki a sweater for his birthday, but…” Izuku pokes at the tangle of yarn. “It’s more complicated than I thought it would be.”

In which Izuku sucks at knitting, his classmates are eager to help out, Todoroki finally gets to be cozy, and knitting is a vector for romance.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings: none

Conventional Taste by WowBoring

summary: He didn’t think it would matter if Midoriya were taking him to a sewer convention; it was probably still going to be the highlight of his Golden Week.

In order to avoid a visit from his unpleasant grandparents Todoroki attends a hero convention with Midoriya, and learns a few things along the way.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: abuse

pls respond by Esselle

summary: 'Midoriya: UR SO CUTE

Shouto chokes on nothing. How is he supposed to respond to that? Is he supposed to respond at all?

Midoriya: Look at your big head aaaaaaaaaaaaah Midoriya: *Image Attached*

Oh, Shouto thinks. He was talking about Shouto's Nitotan, which is now smashed to one of Izuku's cheeks in the image Izuku just sent, as Izuku squeezes it joyfully. Even if Izuku wasn't talking to him directly, the butterflies in Shouto's stomach feel a bit joyful, too.

He types out: I wish I were that Nitotan right now. Then he snorts, and erases it.'

Izuku has a wide variety of special moves, but his Key Smash might be the most powerful of all.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

i can keep a secret, could you? by handcrusher (ameliafromafairytale)

summary: The last thing Todoroki wants is for his father to figure out that 1) he's gay and 2) he's dating the boy he's supposed to overcome as a hero. So, he and Midoriya devise a plan.

Just how long can they keep it up?

pairings: tododeku, tsuchako, momojirou

tags:

warnings:

hold on tight by lunalou

summary: "What are you doing?" Shouto asks.

"Hugging you." Midoriya returns in a patient voice. His arms tighten around Shouto's waist and he presses his forehead more firmly against his back. "You know it's a hug, Shouto-kun. Don't play dumb."

or, five times somebody from 1-a hugs todoroki and the one time he hugs them first

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

If I'm Being Honest.... by I_dont_know_man

summary: Midoriya scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Uh, Shouto, why are you glaring at me like that?”

“I-” Todoroki began to lie, until nausea slammed him like a door to any room that Bakugou entered. “I--” Todoroki grit his teeth, and glared daggers into the wall behind Midoriya. Goodbye, friendship. It had been absolutely divine while it lasted. “Because you’re very attractive.”

They say honesty is the best policy, but it sure as hell had a knack for Todoroki making a complete and utter fool of himself.

In which Todoroki is placed under a mysterious truth-telling quirk and suffers, Uraraka laughs at him, Midoriya is confused but smitten nonetheless, and Twitter is the thirstiest site on the planet.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: humor, fluff

warnings:

Guiding Light by furihatachlookie

summary: It was his mother's idea to enroll him at the local elementary school. His father believed a private tutor was better, but nobody can argue with a mother who's made up her mind, and a balanced exposure to kids his own age sways his father's judgement enough to agree and sign the papers.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings:

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu's Elite Study Club by hanwritesstuff (hannahkannao)

summary: “Well, as I see it, we have two options.” Shouto holds up two fingers. “We can either ignore this and pretend it never happened or... not.” He doesn't know which one he wants. “What does not entail, exactly?” Yaoyorozu asks. “...I don't know.”

In which Todoroki accidentally learns something about Yaoyorozu, Yaoyorozu accidentally learns something about Todoroki, and they spend a considerable portion of their study sessions... not studying.s

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

Do What You Will, If That's What You Want by stanzas

summary: “What do you mean you’re retiring?” Bakugou asks nicely, or at least as nicely as someone like Bakugou can ask. The question is phrased more like a demand.“

Call it a mid-life crisis,” Shouto answers, like Bakugou asked him what the weather would be tomorrow, and takes a deep sip from his coffee. “I’m thinking of changing careers.”

The world of heroes is quick to adapt to surprises, but Pro Hero Entropy’s (very premature) retirement announcement throws almost everyone for a pretty impressive loop.

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, humor

warnings:

extra, extra! by rythyme (pugglemuggle)

summary: Shouto & Creati: ACTUALLY Dating?! by Hitachi Hitomi at September 18, 2047 3:42 pm."Ever since heartthrob

Todoroki Shouto and the Everything Hero "Creati" made their official debuts, the two 22-year-old heroes have been nothing but professional towards each other. But was this all a sham to cover up the truth?"

Or: The media thinks Shouto and Creati are dating. Hint: they aren't. A multimedia TodoDeku & MomoJirou fanfic told through news articles, gossip columns, twitter, tumblr, text messages, and more.

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

you broke the dark and my whole earth shook by aloneintherain

summary: Shouto had imagined himself as the country’s top hero for decades. Endeavour had put those images in his head when he was a child, and they had stayed there, growing like a fungus, until Shouto had reached adulthood. Even now, he was only just beginning to realise he didn’t have to live his life according to almost thirty-year-old decisions made by his abuser. He could do more. Be more. Outside of the hero community.

Izuku gets a job offer in America. Somehow, this brings Shouto and Izuku closer than ever before.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings:

count your blessings, not your flaws by PitViperOfDoom

summary: Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

pairings: tododeku

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

call the fire department (i'm burning up with love) by Edgedancer

summary: An (abridged) list of things Todoroki Shouto did not have before U.A.: Loud neighbors. Fire alarms. Friends. Midoriya Izuku.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

long nights and daydreams by dreamtowns

summary: According to the public, Pro Heroes Deku and Entropy are an amazing Hero Duo, best friends, and the most eligible bachelors in the world. According to their fans, they’re head over heels in love with one another yet oblivious to the others’ feelings. According to their friends and family, they’ve been in love with one another since high school, but, for reasons unknown to them, refuse to act upon said feelings.

According to said heroes, they have been (secretly) married for six years.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings:

extra-salty/twitter-verse series by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)

summary: In his third year at UA, Todoroki Shouto works in a burger place, catches on fire and falls in love. Only two of those things are on purpose.

Or...Todoroki Shouto's exciting adventures in customer service.

part one of the extra salty/twitter-verse

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

More Than Skin-Deep by Emmeri

summary: It was a fact, really. That he was ugly. Having a scar which takes up half his face kind of does that, in Todoroki's eyes. So why does he overhear the girls call him the class pretty boy?

He'll just have to ask Midoriya about it; he has too little filter to tell anything but the truth.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings:

Your Biggest Fan by Latios

summary: He opens the bag on the floor to see what could have been left in there-- and promptly freezes, staring at the contents inside.

“Midoriya.” He calls.

“Hm?”

“You bought our hero merch?”

Aka, Class 1-A starts to see themselves appear on merchandise in their local stores. Todoroki tries not to buy things, and fails.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

Marry The Mole by Haurvatat

summary: “You're going to break up with him before he can propose.”

The hands went down and the steel wall of Midoriya's entire being went up. “...Excuse me?”

“And in return-” Enji gritted his teeth, “-I will deposit 20 million yen in your checking account.”

The gay drama fic based on a tumblr post absolutely zero people wanted to see but YOU'RE GETTING ANYWAY

pairings: tododeku

tags: humor

warnings:

ascended fanboy by aloneintherain

summary: “I want to honour them,” Izuku said softly. “When I cosplay, I just want people to see how amazing these heroes are.”

Shouto brushed a thumb over his cheek, careful not to smudge his makeup. “They do. I promise.”

Or: Izuku and Shouto attend HeroCon, five years post-graduation.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

#bnha recs #my fic recs #abuse tw #bullying tw

76 notes · View notes

universitypenguin · 3 years

Note

Hey, I just want to know do you do writing for a living, because it seems very professional. I mean I didn't know aftershock existed before I read your fics. Plus the details, they just feel so well researched. Either way I love your writing keep going♥️

I do not write for a living. I actually work in healthcare, and I'm on an emergency and trauma team at a major hospital.

But to answer your question, I have written professionally before. It was all ghost writing for other established authors and that prevents me from sharing it, or taking credit for it publicly.

After realizing how well the books I sold did for the authors who bought them, I've been wanting to write under a pseudonym. I'm working on editing an original novel at the moment. My real job is crazy right now, so I've fallen behind. (See followers, it's not just my blog I'm neglecting!)

On a different note, I've noticed a lot of fanfic writers on Tumblr worry about being "good enough" and compare themselves to other writers. Believe me, I can relate. Consistent effort helps you learn how to manipulate a story and fix errors that you're prone to. But it's worth mentioning that the quality of my writing is because of experience. I have ten years of practice to draw from. I've had my work professionally edited over and over again until it was ready for market. And those editors did not care about my feelings. It was brutal. By the time we were finished I think there were like fourteen drafts of the same novel and I could barely stand to look at it.

As a younger writer, you don't read a novel by Paula Hawkins or Fredrick Bachman and then go back to your own work and feel great about your ability. After I read "A Man Called Ove," I sat down and thought, 'I'm never going to do character that well. There's no chance.' When I read the twist ending of the thriller "Into the Water" by Paula Hawkins I was in awe of her skill.

You know what helps when you feel like that? Go read their reviews.

"Into the Water" had 63% bad reviews according to Book Marks. There's a one star review of "A Man Called Ove" that reads:

"An episode of Sesame Street is more nuanced than this story. This book reads more like a script to a bad TV show." (Credit: Good Reads)

So, yeah. It doesn't matter how good you actually are. Someone is always waiting to tell you it's awful. In the words of Stephen King:

“I have spent a good many years since―too many, I think―being ashamed about what I write. I think I was forty before I realized that almost every writer of fiction or poetry who has ever published a line has been accused by someone of wasting his or her God-given talent. If you write (or paint or dance or sculpt or sing, I suppose), someone will try to make you feel lousy about it, that's all.” ― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

Being in a fandom is new to me, as is writing on social media. What I've noticed about Tumblr is the competition that occurs between fandom writers. It's usually over re-blogs but from what I can tell, Tumblr just has a bad algorithm. Likes certainly don't make you a good writer. Fifty Shades of Grey made millions. Christopher Paolini's "Inheritance Cycle" was formulaic and populated by one-dimensional characters. They were tremendously successful. Their writing was awful.

I'm here to write because there are some of you who really enjoy the content I put out. Your feedback keeps me going and helps me figure out what's appealing to readers. For me Tumblr is a skills lab and a chance to "walk the dog." I love being able to get feed back while I hone my writing ability with practice.

I need to write fanfic. Because editing my original novel is freaking boring. I've had the errant thought of forming a beta reader group for my original writing, drawn from my fanfic readers. But I have no idea how to go about that, or how to manage the risk of having my writing stolen. If my fanfic was stolen, I wouldn't care too much. Horrible, but more embarrassing for the person who thinks they need to steal. You can prove it was posted on your page first and the matter is settled.

Anyways, thank you for noticing the quality. I'm always aiming to improve. I do try to keep the effort I'm putting in on my fanfictions consistent, but sometimes I get lazy with the editing.

#penguin replies

7 notes · View notes

silentauroriamthereal · 3 years

Text

5,900 followers!

So! I’ve been on tumblr since about August 2013 now. I had been away from fandom in general for a solid 3-4 years by that point, having left the Harry Potter fandom after a good deal of waning interest, which was definitely accelerated by basically everything about JKR (and this was before she outed herself as a major TERF) - adding to the canon with random shit she would say in interviews, etc, the whole “Dumbledore is gay” - but not in actual canon, including not making it canon in the movies that came after, etc. When I left the HP fandom, fandom in general was still very much on livejournal, though due to endless issues with LJ, people had already started drifting off to other platforms, which led to a widespread sensation of the fandom breaking up. My offline life got busy, I started my masters, and just didn’t have either the time or the interest in writing HP fanfic anymore. I had written 1.5 million words of fic and figured I was about out of words, anyway. My longtime friend, @moonflower-rose, had designed me an icon with the Latin phrase cacoethes scribendi, which basically means an endless mania for writing. I had started to feel that I wasn’t living up to that anymore, too, so I just quietly disappeared.

Fast forward to 2013 and my encountering the ridiculous talents of Benedict Cumberbatch via Star Trek Into Darkness (still think that title needs a colon, but what can you do) and immediately needing to see everything else he’d ever done. I’d heard of Sherlock in my last, lingering days on LJ, but hadn’t decided to delve into it at all. At this point, only series 1 and 2 were out, though setlock photos for series 3 started emerging just after I plunged wholeheartedly into the Sherlock fandom. I was hooked immediately by Ben and Martin’s acting, by the interesting stories (though I was irked from the beginning of the treatment of Irene Adler and the imposition of a hetero-ized romance of two obviously (one canonically!) gay characters). I was irked by the lazy writing and easy outs that Moffat and Gatiss always seem to prefer. Nevertheless, I was only about halfway through The Reichenbach Fall when I was seized with a feeling that was half sinking and half elated: that I needed to write about these two people. The old urge had come back, and it came back hard.

Now, a little over six years later, I’m over 2.3 million words deep into this fandom, with 88 posted stories and another that’s over 16,000 words in at this point. And the place where I re-found fandom and all of the community that comes with it, was here. It’s still astounding to me that anyone reads my stories. It’s astounding to me that 5,900 of you follow me. It’s really, really cool. :)

I used to make a post like this about every 100 new followers, but I’ve sort of slacked off it lately. If you’ve been following me for a long time, this will be repetitive and I’m sorry! But here goes:

-I generally follow everyone back, with the rider that, if the blog posts too much untagged content that I’m not interested in and can’t filter out because of the lack of tags, I’ll unfollow, just because that’s a lot of blogs. Sometimes tumblr doesn’t show me who followed me. If you’re following me and I’m not following you back and you wish I were, please, please, please just drop me a line and say so and I’ll fix it!

-I post my stories at ao3. I have not imported my HP stuff and have no desire to do so. You can still find it at skyehawke.com. As long as skyehawke is still up and running, I will leave my HP stories there. Meanwhile, my Sherlock stuff is all posted here at ao3.

-if you’re someone who has the means to support writers and artists in the fandom and that’s something you’re interested in doing, I do have a Patreon account. It’s over here. I always feel intensely squirmy about promoting this and only have it because @ravenmorganleigh made me get it (bless, lol). As a person who is perpetually struggling to make ends meet, I feel badly because I can never afford to support anyone else financially (every month that I make the rent is a win, basically). The donations people make through my Patreon have often meant the difference between being able to buy groceries or not. I don’t mean to be dramatic about this, but that’s literally the case, and I’m endlessly, endlessly grateful to every single dollar anyone has ever donated. But please don’t ever feel that you need to do this and please don’t if it isn’t something you can afford! I mean that. Also, my Patreon is set up for monthly contributions, and if you’re just dying to make a donation but want it to be a one-time thing, I also use PayPal, via my fandom email account, which is [email protected].

I’ve met some of the most amazing people here in this place and I’m very glad that I chose to come back to fandom, to find my own creative voice again, to have this chance to discuss and share excitement or rage or humour, and to be a part of so many of your lives, in whatever small way. I always get introspective at this time of the year, since it’s not only about to be a new year, but my birthday is also right at the end of the year (it’s December 30th), so I always end up having Big Thoughts About Life in this window between Christmas at the end of the year. Today, this is my Big Thought: how grateful I am to have all of you, in whatever large or small way, in my life. <3333333333333333333333

#SA's long rambly Thoughts #fandom #sherlock #johnlock #5900 followers

49 notes · View notes

averykedavra · 4 years

Note

20. Do you have a favorite fanfic or author? If so, tag them/post a link and share the love!

!!! An excuse to recommend my favorite fics and authors? Don’t mind if I do! Here’s a top fourteen list of some great fics and a top nine list of my favorite authors, in no particular order! Because I had way too many. (Plus I’m bound to forget a million good ones, so take these with a grain of salt!)

1. chivalry is dead by Uncrowned_King! There really wasn’t another option. After Roman disappears into the Imagination, the other Sides come to look for him, and find several Romans fighting for ownership of the land. My all-time favorite Roman angst, with some beautifully written worldbuilding and my favorite OCs ever and a plot twist that sent me reeling. With some cute DLAMP, too! What’s not to love?

2. Breathe Out by Odaigahara! This is darker than I usually read but so, so worth it! Set pre-canon, Virgil and Janus team up against the other dark sides and find their feelings go beyond platonic after a relationship of convenience becomes something more. It’s a WIP and I don’t know where it’s going yet, but I’m really intrigued and the writing is incredible!

3. The Black Hole Group Chat by Greenninjagal! Definitely my favorite comfort fic. After Logan accidentally joins a group chat and is forced into sticking around, he finds himself making his first friends--but past feelings and present conflicts threaten to tear apart the first place they’ve ever felt comfortable. So good, so funny, makes the most of the texting medium, and I always cry at the end.

4. Monsters of the Subconscious by Quarantinevibes! Ohh, everything by this author is fantastic which goes for all of them. After PoF, Janus visits the Imagination to apologize. Instead, him and Roman are sucked into the Subconscious, a wild land full of mysterious dangers. They must team up to escape, and come to terms with their feelings for each other. Some wonderfully soft Roceit, hilarious comedy and incredible action, and great emotional moments!

5. the feelings in my headspace rearranged by mutemelody! Some canon divergence for the soul. Anxiety doesn’t have a name, and after the AA arc, has to make his way through acceptance and love. Canon turns on its head, old friends make a reappearance, and through it all Anxiety has to find his own identity, nameless or not. Gosh, this fic is incredible--the writing is stunning, the plot is amazing, and it’s some of the best Virgil angst I’ve ever read.

6. There’s a Word For That by plumcat! I cannot recommend this fic enough. Roman, a Slytherin, has been pining over arguing with Patton, a Hufflepuff, since the beginning of time. But with the Quidditch match coming up, his two annoying best friends relentlessly teasing him, and Patton himself spending more and more time with Roman, Roman has to figure out what he really wants and who he wants to be. This fic is hilarious and makes me feel feelings and please, please read it.

7. (i’d never) want once from the cherry tree by ace_corvid! Prinxiety! And a Youtuber AU that really takes advantage of the medium! Virgil and Roman are two of the most popular creators on YouTube and their fans have been begging them to do a crossover episode. The collaboration goes surprisingly well, but it’s one thing to explore a relationship, and another to do it when the whole world is watching. So cute, so hilarious, has some amazing art as well, and I just highly recommend it.

8. double down on the paradigms by remrose! Here’s a lovely college AU! Logan is doing his best to pass his classes, and everything is going fine, despite his roommate Virgil’s concerns about his late study nights and compulsive behavior. Then he meets Patton, and every wall Logan’s constructed slowly begins to crumble. To show how much I love this fic, I have not stopped thinking about it, even though it’s the only one on this list I’ve only read once. It stuck with me that much and hey maybe I should reread it, hold on--

9. In a Tizzy by coconutcluster! Cute fluff, so wholesome, much love. After Logan finds out that Roman gets flustered at compliments, he enlists the other Sides to test this theory. But Roman gets upset when he thinks they’re playing a joke on him by being nice. The writing is great and it’s a fantastic pick-me-up on a bad day! Just so full of nice wonderful feelings!

10. Communication Issues by WaeRose! Analogince! The alternative title that I cut out says it all! After Logan and Virgil find Roman crying in his room, they make an effort to spend more time together as a group. But platonic feelings quickly become non-platonic, misunderstandings abound, insecurities rise, and they’ll have to learn how to communicate their feelings if those feelings could ever lead to a relationship. The writing is incredible, the second-person POV is done expertly, and the characterization is top-notch!

11. a heart he couldn’t control by codevassie! Prinxiety that tore me into a million pieces. Roman traded away his true love’s life to save his brother from a witch, but when he actually meets said true love, he begins to regret his choice. Now Virgil is trapped once again with the witch, Roman is on a rescue mission, Patton and Logan are hiding something, and Janus is definitely not who he seems. Once again, this AU hurts me, and the incredible writing makes it a gut-punch! It’s a WIP but I love where it’s going and need to catch up on it but shhh

12. Another Goddamn Hero Story by rosesisupposes! I’m a sucker for a superhero AU and this one is stellar! Logan and Virgil are a hero team, trying to subdue Patton and Roman, the most famous villain duo in the city. But nobody’s exactly who they say, everyone’s not quite sure which side is right, and past wrongs are coming back to draw new blood. It’s endgame LAMP and the romances are built perfectly! Supervillains Royality is amazing, the action is incredible, and the plot twist blew me away!

13. Hurt, and How We Grow Past It by Jinx72! Another comfort fic of mine, by one of my all-time favorite authors! After Deceit visits the Imagination and lights a fire larger than he intended, Roman is left injured while the other Sides try to put the pieces back together. Old grudges come to light, new bonds are forged, and they all fall in love slowly while all simultaneously being extremely insecure. The characterization is incredible, the writing is top-notch, and the DLAMP is heartfelt and wonderful!

14. Eucatastrophe by arealsword! I added this one last-minute because it’s incredible and deserves to be on this list! The writing is incredible, the world-building is top-notch, and the plot manages to be coherent and incredible while throwing me for a loop every other line! It creeped me the heck out, but I’d expect nothing less from the author of Pick a Side. I’m not even gonna summarize this one because that’d spoil the fun, but suffice it to say, Thomas gets kidnapped by faeries and things get interesting very fast.

And now for the authors! (I chose authors who I didn’t mention above, but all the ones I already talked about are hella good, check them out too!)

1. @/sleeplessinstarbucks. You want good losleep content? Here. You want good QPR content? Here. You want good content in general? Here! Lia has amazing hurt/comfort, beautiful writing, and stellar characterization. I binge their writing every time I get bored. If you want your heart to be warmed, this is where to go!

2. @/theeternalspace. Okay, so Acantha is the Royal of Long Fics. Every one of theirs is a winner! They’re an expert at plotting and characterization, and I’ve been sucked into every one of their many AUs. Plus their writing is godly! And did I mention there are so many chapter fics on their Ao3? If you want a bunch of bingeable emotional rollercoasters, head on over here!

3. @/whenisitenoughtrees. Cat...how. How do you do it. See, Cat writes the best one shots. Their writing is incredible and they’ve written some of my all-time favorite short fics! Their characterization is always on point, and their dialogue always lands, and did I mention their writing is just so deliciously readable--you feel like they chose every word carefully to make it pack as much of a punch as possible. If you want some incredible one shots, this is your writer!

4. @/tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors. I mean, I couldn’t not include Violet. LAOFT is still my favorite series of all time and deserves all the attention it’s got! They’re the expert at well-done short fics that serve a longer narrative, giving everything an almost episodic structure. Plus, their fluff is the fluffiest and the best, and their angst hurts me deep within my soul, so they’re double-powerful! If you want standalone fics or a complex, emotional series, check them out!

5. @/impatentpending. Elena, our writing god, our Deity, which all other writers must respect. Every fic of hers is top-tier, from short to long, and she’s unrivaled at plotting and worldbuilding! You’ll get sucked in to every world and story she creates, and she’s an expert on letting the stories linger. I’m still thinking about Powerless and Monster and it’s been almost a year. If you want expertly crafted stories that leave you in emotional pieces, she’s got them.

6. @/ironwoman359. A classic choice here! She’s got it all--incredible one shots, great characterization, and a big enough master list for basically any ship to be found! She also writes some of the best hurt/comfort in the genre, so if you’re a fan of bad things that lead to good endings, there’s always something to read. If you want a large catalog of fantastic stories, she’s your gal!

7. @/caffeinatedcryptid. You may have seen El’s fantastic art on tumblr, but have you read their incredible stories? If not, you’re missing out! They’ve got several spectacular one shots already written, and each one of them broke me in their own special way. Their writing style is incredible and their characterization is fantastic. If you want longer one shots with well-thought-through plots, head over there!

8. @/astronomical-bagel. Astro, our Lord of Roman Angst, always ready to punch me in the gut with feelings! Act One, Scene Three still hurts me to this day. They’re always ready to turn anything into Roman angst (or any angst, check HDABST) but they’ve got some comfort in there as well! A little bit. Somewhat. Yeah. If you want to be emotionally destroyed, you know who to call.

9. @/green-writes-sanderssides. Green’s fics were some of the first I ever read in this fandom, and they’ve stuck with me to this day! They're an expert at the fluff-angst balance and causing all sorts of Emotions. They’re currently working on an incomplete LAMP fic that just completes me. But I digress. Green is spectacular! They’ve got wonderful canon-verse fics that explore the characters and their relationships expertly. If you want amazing fics with fantastic characterization in-canon, stop by!

And that’s all of them! Again, there are tons more I didn’t get to mention, but these are just a few I love! Congrats if you read all the way to the bottom, I know it was a lot--I just get really excited when I can compliment my favorite writers! Anyway, check them out if you want, I highly encourage it!

#sanders sides #fic recs #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fic recs #tw long post #long post #asks and answers #ask game #anon

71 notes · View notes

floweryfreelance · 3 years

Text

𝕴𝖓𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖆 𝕽𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖘

CHAPTER SIX

Table of Contents

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

This work of fiction is an original collaborative work between tumblr users @theearltrancy and @floweryfreelance. Its original format was in that of a roleplay, and has been edited to be a more cohesive story. This work was created on 11.10.20 and completed on 11.30.20.

Please consider following each author for more fictional works.

The end of the day grew nearer as the sky turned dark, the servants of Phantomhive Manor making their rounds and lighting the candles that illuminated the hallways, foyer and dining room of the building. Over dinner, Ciel began to have trouble focusing on their conversation, something he hoped Alois wasn’t picking up on too easily. Every time his gaze arose from his plate with the intention of looking at his lover, they always seemed to be caught in the eyes of the demon Claude standing several feet away. All those years ago, he often felt threatened by even the mere presence of Claude, but knowing now that the two were responsible for keeping a secret, a secret that could mean the end of him if found out, it was leaving him more on edge than usual.

Upon hearing his name leave Alois’ lips, he snapped back to attention, unsure of just how long he had been oblivious to Alois’ words. “I.. I’m sorry, yes? I went away for a moment there.” He tried to cover for himself. “I must be tired from the long day.”

Smiling softly in response, the blonde looked down at the table, having noticed the other man unable to focus. It was fully his cross to bear, and in response he turned to look at Claude, much of the anger from the morning having faded but still a tension between the two.

“Claude, why don’t you go prepare some snacks for later and set them in the study?” He suggested, though a threatening tone still laced his voice. “When you’re done, go see if the other servants need any help. I’m sure that maid is tied up somewhere in god knows what”

With that, the butler nodded and left the room, though a glare crossed his face. It wasn’t as if Claude wanted to follow any of his master’s orders, but bound to contract, refusal meant contradicting his nature. Alois took this seriously, wishing he’d follow simply because he was masking as a butler; the lifestyle proved difficult for some demons.

“I was saying how I need to challenge you to a rematch,” he chimed, turning back around and picking up his fork, stabbing a piece of beef that was tenderly cooked to perfection and glazed in a hearty sauce. “If I can beat you once in chess, I can do it a million times!”

Sebastian stood by the door, stepping aside as Claude exited. He shared a glance with his master, earning a small nod from Ciel as a confirmation to follow him, and so he did. As Claude left the room, it was as if the air opened up. It was physically apparent how Ciel had been able to ease himself now that it was only the two of them in the room.

He cleared his throat, taking a sip of water to alleviate the feeling of dryness in his mouth he hadn’t noticed until now. “Yes, well,” he smirked, seemingly back to his normal sarcastic self. “If you’re to beat me in chess a million times, we’ll have to play at least five million games, four million of which I will win.” He bragged, never competitive about chess until he was faced with a cocky opponent such as Alois.

Seeing as they were now alone, Ciel decided to take the opportunity to ask a question he’d rather now have heard by either of their butlers. “So, assuming you’re staying again tonight,” he began quite nonchalantly, pausing to take a small bite of roasted potato. “Who’s room will we end up in this time?” Ciel’s teasing tone was always one of nonchalance; instead of acting playful he would simply act as if he didn’t care, always hoping to get a rise out of whomever he was speaking to.

Alois spoke with his mouth full, never having fully shedded his lack of manners. The man was never fond of them, never having made any particular use of them. “I like this game we’re playing,” he remarked, pointing at the other with the tip of his fork, “I suppose yours, since you’re so eager. I don’t think I’ll get a moment away from you, do you?” He purred, twirling his fork with his words.

Chuckling lightly to himself, leaning back in his seat. The moment would be stored in his brain, a painting that would crack over the years. Lovers sharing a casual dinner, he logged, romanticizing every second he was able to. And if he were allowed, he would paint in every age spot, prolonging the memory for the next generation.

The rest of the dinner passed with laughs and even more stories shared between the two men. Alois described his French home, suggesting he’d kick out the two lovers inhabiting it in a dramatic declaration of love. Perhaps with a staged fire, or an eviction notice, something of the sort. Those walls were to hold love, and he would only allow theirs to seep into them, no matter who he allowed into his own bed.

Illuminated by the fire, the two men had retired to the study once again. Alois himself was running his finger along the spines of books that hadn’t been touched in years, taking a particular passing interest in the ones on gardening. It was a hobby he found dirty and beneath him, but he always wanted to understand how things began and thus, died. He wondered what he could do in order to keep a plant alive, even preserve one after its passing.

“Do you read any of these?” He asked, noting the cover of dust on some of the pages of the ones he pulled off the shelf to flip through. “No interest in… horticulture? Oscar Wilde? Picture of Dorian Grey?”

Ciel sat in the armchair by the left out chess set, illuminated by the fire as he played with a Knight piece in his hand. He looked over at Alois, squinting slightly to see the book he had picked up.

“Most of them I read in childhood,” he commented, attention turning back to the chess piece. “Many of them haven’t ever been read. I used to have less work, and more time alone. Now I hardly have any time for such things.” Something in his tone was nostalgic as he recalled the days he would spend alone in his study or his bedroom as a young child. Before there was much work for him to do for the Queen, he would often read in isolation, always asking Sebastian to bring him a new book to escape into. That’s what most of them were, after all; escapes.

As calm and collected as he tried to appear, Ciel wasn’t always the most gifted at concealing his emotions. Though his facial expression was rather mute and nonchalant, something about him was still off; his aura, perhaps. It was the same energy Alois felt from across the dinner table. Something was still bothering him, and he wouldn’t speak of it. Likely, that something was related to Claude, one way or another.

It’s a good book,” he noted, opening it and flipping through to a particular passage- “ We are punished for our refusals. Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind, and poisons us. The body sins once, and has done with its sin, for action is a mode of purification… . Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what it's monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. It has been said that the great events of the world take place in the brain. It is in the brain, and the brain only, that the great sins of the world take place also. “ He smirked, closing it and placing it back in its place. “How naive.”

The man looked over now to his lover, noticing finally his expression. A look of concern settled onto the other’s face, a frown forming. He strode over to the chair by the fire that he rested in, taking his place on the arm if it, allowing the velvet of his coat to buckle and wrinkle with the action. Soft, he placed his own hand over the other’s, staring longingly into the fire himself.

“Two pence for your thoughts, my dear?” Alois inquired, quiet.

Ciel shifted in his seat as Alois sat on the arm of the chair, making a bit more room for the both of them to be comfortable. He leaned his head into his palm and stared at the fire, his other hand being held by the other’s. He thought for a few moments before speaking, hoping to articulate his mess of thoughts in a clear way.

“This.. secret we’re keeping,” he began, the heat from the fire beginning to make his exposed eye feel dry. Ciel turned to look up at Alois, trying desperately to squash his unease. “I’ve kept secrets before- Hell, I’m keeping us a secret rather well..” His thoughts began to wander, and so he trailed off, his mind darting from worry to worry as he struggled to figure out what to say next.

Alois sighed, his other hand reaching up to run through the man’s dark hair in hopes of comforting him. True, the situation was taxing when it wasn’t blissful, and while the blonde did his best to ignore that he knew his lover wouldn’t be capable.

“Which part of it is the part bothering you now?” He inquired, smiling down at his lover, icy blue eyes seeking an answer before he responded.

Outside the door, Claude had been following his hated rival for the majority of the evening. The two had cleaned the entire manor, folding every sheet possible and washing every window. It would make his blood boil if he’d had any human traits to speak of. It was then that he heard his master, wondering if there had been a speck of information he could use for himself. Surely, there was something here he could glean from the experience. He stopped in front of the closed door, pressing an ear softly against it.

The Earl ran both of his hands over his face, sighing as he stood from his chair abruptly. His reaction came across as frustrated, though he was truthfully only scared.

“Which part do you think?” He spat, purposely speaking to the other side of the room so as to not make Alois think he was angry at him. “Alois, if that butler of yours-” He turned to face him, taking a breath as he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm down. “If Claude knew what we know, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me. And ironically, that’s something I can handle.” He pointed out, beginning to pace. “I’ve lived most of my life just waiting for death to take me. But he’d likely go after you, too..” Ciel’s voice softened slightly at the end of his rant, the thought of Alois being killed making him feel as if he were being suffocated by the air around him.

Pouting slightly at the outburst, Alois felt again like a child in the arms of a demon that was so much bigger than he’d ever hope to be. He could kill himself off as many times as he wished; he would never truly die until Claude wanted him to and was able to collect his soul as a light snack before killing his lover as well. With his luck, he’d probably live through it and watch Ciel die. The thought alone made him feel like he was about to choke. Both his hands dropped to the arm of the chair, steadying himself.

“I just… need a way to do it gently.” He pleaded, locking his gaze on his lover’s face. “My revenge is over. If he knew that, he would be able to go… I don’t know- rogue.” He stated, gritting his teeth at the thought. “Releasing him from the contract, if he knew it was fulfilled, we could both die. I doubt he’d pass up an opportunity to end us both.”

Ciel raised a brow, turning back to face Alois with a look of disbelief on his face. “Gently?” he repeated. “And how, exactly, would you even go about that?” Ciel crossed to Alois, cupping his cheeks and holding his head in his hands. “I know you want to believe there’s a way for this to go well, I do as well. But there simply isn’t.” If one looked closely enough, they could see the fear in his exposed eye, his pupil small and quivering. Ciel dropped his hands to Alois’ shoulders. “He’ll kill us, or at least try to, no matter how you go about telling him.”

The young man turned away once again, crossing his arms across his chest as he rested his chin between his thumb and forefinger. His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath, determined to calm down. There was no point in getting worked up about it now, not here and not like this.

“I’ll help you if I must. I’ll bring Sebastian if you think it’ll help protect us from whatever rage, wrath- whatever follows.” He spoke in a serious voice, completing his thought before looking towards Alois over his shoulder. “But we needn’t come up with a plan tonight. As long as we can keep this between us, we have time.”

The blonde was backed into a corner emotionally, trapped in a prison of his own creation. He’d wished many times that at the very least, Claude could be more like Sebastian- a protector, a friend, a loyal dog. That simply was never in the cards for him, tossed around like a nuclear bomb of emotion ever since he was young enough to feel again. Killing those who used him could only bring him so much safety, wrapped in the lies of a demon at the end of the night, every night.

He buried his face in his hands, mind swirling as it did when he started to feel any strong emotion. Things like this made him feel small, like a child again in his own casket back when the old man was still alive. He’d be stolen and used over and over again - it was time for that to stop, now in his adulthood.

“We… have to find a way.” He whispered, choking up as he lost himself in his own head once again. “I can’t spend my whole damned life afraid, Ciel. I want a chance!”

Claude had heard everything, processing what he’d just heard his own master say. He was… free? He had been free for how long? When had Alois figured out that Sebastian hadn’t been the one to bring harm to his brother? Who had told him that they weren’t tied by fate, but instead only tied through lies and time? It would’ve been his deepest fear for the boy if he hadn’t also been freed in the meantime. He no longer had to wait for an order- he could collect Ciel, exact his own revenge, and set the table for a long-awaited feast. Perhaps years ago he would collect Alois as well, but the scent of him no longer enticed him.. What a disgusting thought, eating him.

They had less time than they thought.

Hearing the quiver in Alois’ voice he turned to face him again, his expression turning to one of pity and regret. He shouldn’t have said anything. It could have waited another night.

Ciel approached him, kneeling down next to the armchair and gently taking Alois’ hand in his own. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly, his thumb tracing soft circles on the other’s skin. “We don’t need to discuss it anymore tonight. We’ll come up with a plan later.” He planted a light kiss on the back of Alois’ hand, getting his attention so he could look him in the eye. “We’ll discuss it later. Come to bed with me, it’s late.”

He stood from his position, pulling gently on Alois’ hands to stand him up from the chair. Their hands squeezed each other lovingly, comfortingly, as they looked upon each other. “Come now then, bed.”

Ice blue eyes focused on the other, now wet with tears that had only begun to form. He wasn’t sure how his lover was able to calm him down so well. He blinked them away, sniffling slightly and nodding. With his free hand, he dusted his coat, a distraction more than anything.

“Right, bed… Okay…” He responded, thoughts still far away. He followed reluctantly, dragging his feet the whole way to Ciel’s room. In a way, he wanted to be alone to think, speed up the process so in a few days he’d have a chance at living. Even he knew it wasn’t that simple, though.

A soft knocking came to the door, revealing the Trancy butler with a fresh change of clothing for the night and another damp towel. Despite his mood, it couldn’t have come at a better time, wishing to wipe the dried tears from his cheeks. He’d been crying silently to himself, pretending to admire the fabrics of the room and settling in by the window to watch the gentle rain hitting the windowpane. Although his lover was certainly aware, the blonde couldn’t be rattled from one of these moods once he got into them. Even with their distance, his lover knew this to be true as well.

He held his hand out, hearing Claude enter and feeling a familiar tingle on his tongue. These days, it was more of a burning feeling that betrayed the animosity they shared. He knew the steps of his demon’s feet, the sound he made when he was in a room, recognized the smell of his laundry, if only to give himself a couple more moments to prepare. The demon handed him the towel, wiping his face off and refusing to look over at him.

“Leave the clothes over there on the bed,” he ordered, distant.

“I actually feel like staying.” Claude uttered, out of turn. This was unusual- normally he would linger or bicker, but always followed orders. He didn’t have any agency- did he? Alois’ eyes widened, the thought crossing his mind that he may have been too loud earlier.

Now in his bedroom together, Ciel sat on the edge of the bed, opposite the room as Alois. He knew his lover well enough to know when he needed to have a moment, but desired the presence of someone he trusted for comfort. And so, that’s what he did.

His back facing the door, he tensed up a bit as Claude entered, once again feeling the air around him grow thick. The young man decided it best to not say a word to the butler, and simply endure his presence until he did his duties and left.

Upon hearing Claude’s dissent, something in Ciel froze, something deep inside him. Looking towards Alois out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other’s look of shock and worry, and his own face began to mirror the same expression. Between the three of them, the room seemed to fall under a dark and heavy cloud of dread, one that was so thick it made them feel as if they could choke.

Did he hear them?

Frozen in his place, Alois felt awash with fear all of a sudden. He felt many emotions towards the other, but never endangered. His hand slowly rose to cover his mouth, beginning to shake.

“Get-… Get out!” He screamed, turning to stand and face the butler, now only slightly taller. However, it was clear that the two were far from being on the same level with one another. Nose to nose, the demon smiled out of the side of his mouth, pushing up his glasses and walking away- only to meet Ciel and lean in close. The tension was palpable as he eyed the man, dissolved to just a child in front of him. He ran a cold index finger along the darker man’s jaw, lifting his chin so he couldn’t look away, a threat if there ever was one.

“Trancy,” he began, low, “I hope you remember what being alone is like.” He stated. With that, he straightened and pushed back his glasses, walking towards the door frame. He stopped just before leaving, making eye contact with the Earl Trancy, his last moment as a proper Trancy butler. “You won’t be coming with.”

Turning on his heel to leave, Alois stood frozen in complete shock and defeat. He dropped to the floor, fear gripping him in its entirety. He felt his body rock with sobs, but he wasn’t aware of any of it, the action not coming from emotion but rather absolute shock. They were in danger, and he’d willingly die with Ciel, but to die without him, no longer wanted….

Ciel had nearly lost all control of his body as he was faced with the man, sitting down but feeling as if he would fall if he tried to stand. His entire body went cold, clammy and quivering, and he flinched as he felt a gloved finger run along his jaw. In Claude’s golden eyes he saw nothing but darkness, a threatening void that left an lingering sense of terror as he walked away.

A ringing in his ears silenced Alois’ sobs and the sound of the door shutting behind the demon as he left. Ciel couldn’t move, completely and utterly frozen in place as his mind tried to make sense of what just occurred. The desire to hit himself crossed his mind, just in case this were a dreadful nightmare he hadn’t yet woken up from. But it wasn’t.

Abruptly, Ciel shot up from his seat on the bed, stumbling forward and grabbing hold of the bed frame for support. He screamed for Sebastian, louder than he had ever screamed before, his voice growing hoarse and cracked the more he screamed. It was only moments before Sebastian appeared in the doorway, a look of intense concern on his face as he rushed to his master’s side, helping him stand as he took notice of Alois crumpled up on the floor.

“Master, what is it? What’s happened?” He inquired, completely unaware of the events that had happened just moments before his arrival.

“It’s..Claude..” Ciel choked out, putting most of his weight on Sebastian as he struggled to stand upright. “He’s going to kill me..”

“Dear master, he can’t-”

“HE CAN AND HE WILL!” He screamed, looking desperately into his demon’s eyes. “The contract has been filled, it was kept a secret from him.. He doesn’t answer to Trancy any longer, he’s going to try to kill me..” Ciel spoke quickly, eyes darting back and forth between Alois and the door. “He’s gone, but he’ll come back. No one comes onto the grounds, and no one leaves, do you understand me!?”

Sebastian’s eyes widened, admittedly shocked by the confession. His brows furrowed as he nodded and closed his eyes briefly, helping Ciel to sit back on the bed. “Yes, master. I’ll take appropriate action immediately.” The demon then left the room swiftly, determined to notify the other servants, both of Phantomhive and Trancy manor, and to search the grounds for any sign of Claude.

And so, they were left alone. The noble Phantomhive Earl sitting lifelessly in silence, and the stately Trancy Earl sobbing and balled up on the floor.

Alois pulled his knees to his chest in an effort to calm himself, still dryly sobbing to himself for a good few minutes in the dark of the night. He couldn’t yet bring himself to stand, reduced to a childlike state of shock. Claude didn’t even want him anymore… which in and of itself was hurtful enough. But then, he also wanted to take the one chance he had at happiness with him. He’d be left forever in a Hell of his own making, no solace to be found. The contract would leave him wealth and power, things while paled in comparison to companionship, once the only thing he actually wanted out of his demon.

Ciel’s screams echoed in his ears as if he were miles away or perhaps hearing them in a nightmare. Though, it must have been only moments before Sebastian found the other Trancy staff, Hannah rushing in to hold the man in her gentle arms. The Earl grabbed on tightly to her, knowing she would be the only one to love him if he ever lost his lover. She pushed his hair out of his tear-stained face as she got to work putting him back together. She whispered a few reassurances to the man, Alois hearing none of them and beginning to cough and choke on his tears. Holding a handkerchief to his mouth, she spent a few more moments with him in silence, the closest thing he had to a mother.

“Ciel,” she began, looking behind her shoulder at the other man, also falling apart at the seams. “I swore to his brother to protect him. I know now that includes you.” She stated with the calm only a demon could manage in the moment. “I will not hesitate if I must break rank.”

Still hearing none of the sounds in the room, Alois muffled his coughs against Hannah’s chest, raising a hand to hold the cloth to his own mouth now. He struggled to breathe, pretending instead that he was in the room alone and had the time to compose himself. He still shook and held the woman to steady his body. Hannah buried her face in the man’s golden hair, feeling the closest thing a demon could ever feel to fondness.

“There, there… you’re going to be safe…”

Hearing his name seemed to shock Ciel back into reality, suddenly unsure of how long he had been frozen in place and time. He especially wasn’t used to hearing his first name leave a servant’s mouth, but that was the least of his worries. He snapped his head towards her, wide eyed and pale as he listened to her words, and nodded to show her he understood.

It wasn’t just them, then. They weren’t alone in this; they had Sebastian and Hannah, the remaining Phantomhive manor staff and perhaps even the triplets, if they could be of any help. He would remind Alois of this when he was calmer.

That thought struck Ciel then, suddenly seeming to snap him back into the real world and truly analyze what was going on. Claude knew that he was free from Alois. Claude was going to try to take his life, and leave Alois behind to suffer. They weren’t alone in defending themselves. It was as if Ciel’s mind, in an effort to preserve his sanity, turned to his work related thought processes, working to keep him grounded and practical. This wasn’t the time for him to act emotional. They didn’t have that leisure.

Ciel rose from the bed, timely moving to crouch in front of Alois and cup his cheeks with still shaky hands, reminding him he was still there. “Alois, look at me.” he ordered, lifting the man’s head so his eyes met his own. “My staff are doing a search of the perimeter. No one is getting in here.” He turned his attention towards Hannah. “We’ll sleep in here tonight, with the door open. You’ll stand guard in case he returns tonight.” There was no time to make polite requests. He turned back to Alois. “He’s gone, Alois, he isn’t here right now. It’s just us, and we’re protected for now.”

Hannah nodded, leaving Alois with one last squeeze of his hand. She stood, turning on her heel to walk to the doorframe and prepare for a long night. It was at this moment that the triplets ran up, catching her in the light of the hallway. She gave them instructions, too low for either man in the room to hear, and they saluted, only to run off in different directions. While they weren’t huge fans of the Earl himself, they were bound to the female instead and heeded her every order. If her orders were to protect Alois, they would without a single pause.

The man shakily rested his own hands over his lover’s on his face, cold but steady. Through tears, he locked eyes with the other, searching for his reality. He blinked the tears from his eyes, sniffing and some clarity coming back to him.

“He… doesn’t even want me..” He said, processing aloud. While this was not the primary concern, he always supposed that if the contract ended, he would at least put the blonde out of his misery. As a last slight, however, he planned to take everything from him and let him sit in it. He scrambled through his memories, that night he asked for the demon’s help playing on repeat. He’d felt so wanted back then, but now he knew it was only until he found something better. The tables turned, the demon seeking revenge on him and Sebastian at the same time. Ambitious. “He… I….”

Ciel’s heart felt like it was being squeezed in that demon’s grasp as he watched Alois struggling to bring himself back down and ground himself. His thumbs gently stroked his cheeks as he leaned his forehead against the other’s, closing his eyes. “He’s evil and he’s angry..” He reminded Alois, hoping he could help him see that, after everything, the demon’s actions weren’t that surprising at all. “He won’t take me,” You don’t know that. “We’re protected,” He’ll find a way in. “He’s not going to kill me,” He will. “And I promise you, you won’t be alone.”

It was then that Sebastian reappeared, sharing a brief word with Hannah before entering the room and standing before the two young men on the ground, though his attention was solely on his own master.

“Anything?” Ciel asked quietly, looking up at his butler as he cradled Alois’ head in his arms.

Sebastian shook his head. “No, master, no sign of him. He’s left the premises. But I have staff stationed around the manor, and I’ll be doing rounds of my own tonight.” He gestured towards Hannah. “I see Miss Hannah will be responsible for the Trancy Estate’s servants, and will be here tonight as well.”

Ciel nodded slowly, trying to take deep breaths. “Yes, she stays here. But I don’t want you going far, you hear me?” After all these years, Ciel would be lying if he claimed he didn’t feel uneasy whenever Sebastian wasn’t near. “You answer to me and me only, and I command you to protect me at all costs.” His voice was low now, threatening even, but not towards Sebastian. It was as he said before: he had gone most of his life expecting death to take him at any moment, but he’d be damned if he left Alois alone in this godforsaken world.

The blonde, now coming down slightly, allowed his head to rest against Ciel’s chest. It was in this manner that he insisted on hiding from the world if only for now. There was a period of time when he was wanted by the demon for his own flavor and not the people he could collect in his grasp. For companionship, he posed as the son of a sodomiser, mingling with the family of his former abuser for only the reassurance he had standing dutifully behind him. He had not wished for wealth nor power, but respect and companionship. If only he had known what it would turn into, he would’ve taken his revenge only on the Old Man, the true Earl of Trancy, and allowed himself to be taken with the demon into a cold, unforgiving Hell.

His whole life now stemmed from those choices he’d made as a last resort when he was only thirteen. He wondered if he would have still met Ciel if he hadn’t been the fake Earl Trancy, but in this moment he almost wished he weren’t, all posturing and lies. Alive for naught but his rage and distaste for anyone who wasn’t him. and yet wanting someone to notice. Organically, someone had. If he hadn’t made that choice, perhaps even Hannah would’ve still eventually stepped forward for his brother, allowing him a chance at life.

Alois looked up into Ciel’s eyes, making sure that that one person, this one thing, was real. Claude had… left the premises. Resentment was one thing, but this was another entirely. Abandonment. “I… I want to sleep…” He mumbled, still quite out of it. “I’ll… need help… untying…”

Now the only two in the room, with the exception of Hannah’s presence by the door, Ciel helped Alois stand and walked him over to the bed. Without a complaint he began to unbutton the other’s coat, discarding it before moving onto his dress shirt and tie. He helped him undress silently, pulling a warm cotton robe from his wardrobe and pulling Alois’ arms through it. “Let’s not worry about night clothes, we’ll sleep in something warmer tonight.” Secretly, a part of him hoped the smell of him on the robe would calm Alois, perhaps even allow him to sleep.

After tying the robe snugly around the other man’s middle, he turned away to begin undressing himself, copying the same ritual and process of removing his clothes and folding them neatly on the table by the dresser beside Alois’. He, too, wrapped a warm robe around himself, circling around the other side of the bed to crawl in and under the covers beside Alois.

The two naturally turned into each other, this time with Ciel holding Alois tightly in his arms and combing his fingers through the blond’s hair in his chest. “We’re safe..” he whispered, letting the darkness engulf them, closing them in a small and comforting space that felt sturdy and reliable enough to be a fortress.

Whether or not the two of them would sleep that night or lay together in silence was hard to say.

Alois, unfortunately, was still reeling. His whole world shattered that night as he tried to build a new home in his lover’s arms. The robe made him feel only slightly better, smelling of the Earl Grey tea and merlot smell that encompassed the entire manor. In an effort to ground himself, he pulled it up to his face and smothered himself in it, trying his best not to think about his butler, betraying.

He thought of Dorian Grey, a novel he’d found refuge in the whole time he’d been travelling. If his sins and choices were portrayed on his face, he wondered how ugly that would make him. He’d reeled the love of his life into this mess, reckless perhaps, but he’d known no other lifestyle. Were he simply wealthy by birth, none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have had to fight for bread, and traded his life for an endless supply of it. He was still clean-faced and lacked any wrinkles or signs of age, but he was sure that his sins would make him look like the monster he knew himself to already be.

The night passed as if caving in on both of them, Alois occasionally sitting up having heard a raindrop hit the window wrong or Hannah’s heel shift with her weight. No sleep came to him, waiting for the world to explode around them or for the butler to come back in through the window. For an hour or so, he even sat up in bed, just anxiously watching the night pass them by. This continued through morning, when the sky began to glow blue with the return of sunlight and some clouds became tinged with orange light. Though the night had felt long, he was surprised that they had in fact remained undisturbed all night. Realizing this, he looked up to Hannah, who had remained in the doorway the entire night. He wondered what orders she’d given the triplets, as he hadn’t even seen them to begin with. Without a word, Hannah flagged down Mey-Rin in the hallway, stepping away for only a moment to inform her that Alois was awake and she wished to retrieve him a change of clothes.

Just a short while later, Ciel began to stir as he felt movement beside him, weakly opening his eyes to see Alois sitting on the edge of the bed now and being dressed by Hannah. Now aware he was still close, he let out a short breath, relaxing his head back into the pillow. With his left arm he reached across the empty space to gently caress Alois’ lower back, stroking the skin with his thumb. He didn’t say good morning, as it wasn’t likely to be a good one.

Ciel wouldn’t claim he slept that night, rather he dozed while remaining on high alert. When Alois stirred, he would wake. When the wind was just a bit too loud, he would wake. When the floorboards creaked, he would wake. It was only in the last hour or two that he had really fallen into sleep, his arm draped over the other man’s lap until just moments ago.

The night before was still fresh in his mind. He was a target once again, for the first time in a long time. But now, he wasn’t the only one involved.

18 notes · View notes

blazehedgehog · 3 years

Note

youtube's algorithm has struck again. i've been excitedly waiting for your jurasic park video for some time, and then i find out in a blog post that it came out several days ago! your poor vid never even shown up in my feed. alas, i can watch it now though!

This is the problem with internet content hubs. On Youtube, on Twitter, on Tumblr, everywhere users can make and share content, there’s this drive to subscribe to their feed. You are shown endless recommendations forever, thousands of people, millions of posts...

Except at a point, it becomes too much. Your feed gets overwhelmed because you’ve subscribed to 980 people and even if they all only make one post a day, that’s still 980 posts. You aren’t going to read 980 posts a day. On Youtube, it’s even worse, because a single “post” could be 15 minutes of video.

If you subscribe to 980 people on Youtube, and even ONE THIRD of your subscriptions posts a 15 minute video, that’s nearly 82 hours of video to watch in one day. It’s literally impossible.

So they introduce the algorithm. The algorithm looks at your trends -- both short term and long term -- and says, “this user is interested in this type of content right now, so I will select a few things I think they will like and ignore the rest.”

But it’s the sort of thing, like I talked about with mobile games a few days ago, where they have both created the problem and the solution.

“Here’s a channel to subscribe to! And another channel to subscribe to! And 20 channels to subscribe to! Subscribe subscribe subscribe!” they say, only to follow that with “Oops! You’ve subscribed to too many people, shame on you, I guess we’ll need to introduce an algorithm to filter all this stuff.”

But here’s the kicker: since they control the algorithm, they can push it to show you the kind of content they want you to see. They can insert advertisements or promotional material more easily because it’s not your feed anymore. It’s their feed, based on what they estimate your interests to be.

And conveniently, that “interest profile” can be massaged to prioritize whatever they want you to see, including algorithmic-served advertisements. Do you like Sonic the Hedgehog? Well, for $14.99, you can buy the brand new Sonic the Hedgehog movie right here on Youtube! The algorithm says you’ll love to spend this money, and it’s never wrong!

And other people, if they figure it out, can influence the algorithm, too. A famous example is how in American politics five or six years ago, if you googled the name “Rick Santorum” you’d get a webpage about how “Santorum” was a slang term for certain type of poop. A bunch of people who really did not like Rick Santorum got together and influenced the Google algorithm to make that page the top search result.

This is also how bigotry runs so rampant on Youtube. Hate groups have always known how to conceal their message, and by using the recommendation algorithm to their advantage, they were able to indoctrinate millions of people to their cause by getting them started on pathways of hatred. According to people who worked at Youtube, they actually knew what was going on and refused to do anything about it, probably because the algorithm was “driving engagement” and making them too much money to shut it down.

(For what it’s worth, Youtube has been taking steps to curb this activity, but for some it’s many years too little, too late)

When you lose control of your own feed, videos like mine start slipping through the cracks. I don’t have a consistent audience, and I don’t have a consistent releases schedule. Since 75% of my audience does not watch every single video I release, Youtube thinks a lot of what I release is worth ignoring. That means other videos that “drive more engagement” get top billing and push me out of a rapidly shrinking spotlight, no matter how much effort or quality the video contains.

Admittedly, it’s a hard problem. Even if you take out the problems with the algorithm, Youtube still receives more content in one day than most single human beings could watch in their entire lifetime. Building a system to catalog, sort and serve that amount of data is borderline madness.

At the same time, I think the subscriptions feed should be immutable. That’s the collision here. You are saying, “I want to see this” and Youtube is deciding you don’t. A lot of sites are adopting ways that let you say, “I don’t care how long they’ve been inactive for, always show me their content.” Youtube sort of does that, when you “ring the bell,” but that’s also tied to phone notifications and all kinds of other weird stuff -- it’s effectively another subscription tier on top of the one that already exists.

It’s messy, dumb, and bad, but also not surprising.

#questions #youtube #algorithm #social media #Anonymous

5 notes · View notes

kinetic-elaboration · 4 years

Text

February 23: Writing Projects - Help?

I’m really floundering in terms of what I should be writing, since I’ve finished the Clarke/Maya draft and I apparently can’t work on my Bellarke fic right now. So I’m writing out potential ideas partly for myself, and partly to outsource the process--which is to say I’m not expecting assistance but I would welcome assistance.

Any thoughts, tumblr? Anything you would like to see me actually finish and post? Anyone want to talk writing in general?

I have put this in a random order so as not to give away any of my own thoughts re: priorities.

Or Anyone Like You - Bellarke. Modern AU in which Bellarke have a stereotypical summer romance, and then later Clarke returns to the scene of the crime to Reminisce.

This is a series of writing exercises that almost has a plot. It’s supposed to be lowkey but somehow it’s been literally over a year since I worked on it.

oh well you’ve got me under your spell (chapter 2) - Bellarke. All the cliches: high school au, best friend’s brother, pining.

I loved this fic with my whole heart and fully intended to continue it but I got stuck and couldn’t unstick myself and now it’s like the Grail of writing. I have some plans/outlines/whatever but it’s not cooperative.

A Watch With No Hands Interlude - Bellarke. A canon-divergent AU in which the Ark stations come down all at once. Bellamy escapes Alpha Station to look for his sister and the rest of Prison Station, and runs into Grounder!Clarke and her peaceful, art-loving clan. Part One was my Bellarke Big Bang in 2019. It left off with Bellarke seeing flares from a potential Ark station.

The interlude is going to be two chapters and one has been written, the other outlined. I won’t post either until they’re both done. I haven’t worked on it in a long time and I’m a little intimidated by it, not just for that reason.

And They Lived: A Sleeping Beauty AU (chapter 5) - Bellarke. Clarke is Sleeping Beauty, trapped in the City of Light. Bellamy wakes her up.

I have the first two chapters up on AO3 and another two written in draft form, plus part of chapter five. There are only six chapters. I... don’t even know lol. It just feels like a mess.

The Party Fic - Various pairings. Modern/hs au. Nothing happens, I just wallow in my favorite style.

This is super self-indulgent and I don’t know if I’ll ever post any of it. Nevertheless I wrote one whole chapter of it and always thought it would be fun to write another.

Sequel to Where I’ll Spend Through Winter - Bellarke. A modern AU that’s basically just them pining for each other, a lot. In the sequel, Bellamy pines yet more, and Clarke (appears to?) move on.

This is the fic I’m fucking stuck on.

All Pair Challenge - various pairings, each stand alone. I’ve been working on this series for over a year and I’m literally 7 away from finishing.

Bellarke Bingo: Love Potion: Bellarke (unsurprisingly). The Blake siblings own a weird-stuff-and-antiques shop. Clarke takes a love potion and falls in love with Bellamy.

I have this mostly outlined but it has a lot of Issues, and I’m having a hard time figuring out both how to fix those issues, and how to start.

South - Murven. A modern AU in which Murphy and Raven take a road trip, stay in a bed and breakfast, share a bed, and maybe eventually make it to their destination.

Like Or Anyone Like You, this is in the form of a series of writing exercises, but it almost wants to become a real fic. I’m shocked by how long it’s been since I last wrote it.

Dual Timeline Fic: Jonty. Two stories--in one! A modern AU in which Monty can’t figure out his feelings and a canon-divergent AU in which both Monty and Jasper end up in the bunker and Monty still can’t figure out his feelings.

This one is straight up From the Vault lol. I haven’t worked on it in ages and I have no idea what happens next but I do like what I had.

Bellarke Exes - Bellarke. Clarke returns to town with her new boyfriend but her relationship with Bellamy remains complicated.

I’ve been working on this one off and on for a while. I continue as long as it works and then abandon it as soon as I get stuck.

The Marriage Fic - Jonty and Bellarke. Fluffy modern AU, est. relationship Jonty react to Bellarke wedding.

I only wrote one scene that I actually like but basically it’s the self-indulgent fluff universe that makes me happier when I’m sad.

Never-Contented Things! - Octaven. My original idea for the first round of Chopped 1.0. Raven works in a coffee shop. Octavia is a fairy who follows her home from work.

I have a decent idea of the Feel of this universe, plus an outline, but I want to do it justice, which is an intimidating prospect.

There’s Only One Bed!: Jonty. This is a request. I have no ideas for whatsoever other than what it says on the tin.

Autumn ‘Verse: Various pairings. Indescribable, in part because this fic has been 20 million different things over time. I realize this isn’t helpful. It’s sorta magical, maybe, and there might be ghosts?

Ark AU: Various pairings, including Bellarke, Wellven, Briller. The Ark never ran out of oxygen, and the delinquents are out of the Sky Box and trying to make lives for themselves. Some politics, some Law Nonsense.

This is a freaking epic and I’m having a good time planning it but will it ever be written? Other than the first two scenes? Idk.

Chopped: Maya and Octavia: For Chopped 2.0 Round 1 (?). Lexa doesn’t take Dante’s deal, and the Sky People/Grounder alliance destroys the Mountain. There are many casualties, but some survivors, and now no one knows what to do. I call it the “Maya and Octavia” fic because I had this idea they’d be the two main characters.

I don’t really want to write yet more MW and/or Maya fic right now but this one is tempting because I have this idea (lol) that it will be short?

Chopped: Briller: A reject from a round I didn’t write for, I think 1.0 Round 2? The one with the time loop. Farm Station takes over Mount Weather, then secedes from Arkadia. Briller are exes.

This one fell to the bottom of the pile once I decided I didn’t want to write a time loop or otherwise use the Chopped tropes for it. So now it’s just a universe, no plot. But I had fun writing Briller again recently so I’m wondering if I should resurrect it.

Frog Sounds: Jasper, Maya, Monty, Raven, Bellarke. The first four visit the last two in the woods.

I wrote this series initially just for some Atmosphere Practice / Nostalgia and then I just kept going. And then I stopped again. But sometimes I think I’d like to write more of it.

#the 100 #the year 2020 #2020: writing projects #this isn't even everything everything it's just what i could describe lol

9 notes · View notes

spnfanficpond · 5 years

Text

October 2019 Pond LiveChat Recap

We had a great time chatting with @evansrogerskitten tonight! Thank you so much for joining us and sharing your wisdom!

Today, we got together and talked about writing smut! We discussed the legalities around sharing smut on the internet, vocabulary choices, created a spreadsheet of terms we can all share and use, and encouraged each other to not be afraid to just write. A rundown of the chat, as well as general Pond news, is below the cut. Due to the nature of the chat, there may be some parts of this recap that might be considered NSFW.

To start us off, @mrswhozeewhatsiswrites shared some research into the legalities of posting erotica on the internet as it relates to minors. (We are not legal experts. This information was obtained through Google searches. If anyone can provide links to sources that contradict these, we will add them to this post to ensure the most correct information is provided here.)

Michelle: To try and keep it short and sweet, from everything I read, if a minor reads smut online, it's not the writer's, poster's, or web site's responsibility to keep it from them. It is the parent's, or the school's/library's responsibility. (Basically, whoever is providing the internet connection to the minor is responsible for filtering out content that might be harmful to that minor, not the parties creating or disseminating that content online.) Schools and libraries and other institutions that get government funds are usually required to have some sort of filter in place to prevent minors from accessing porn and erotica.

What makes this so difficult to research is that written erotica is not mentioned very often in obscenity laws. Most laws focus on images or videos, not the written word.

No matter what it is, though, to be prosecuted under obscenity laws, the material must first be ruled to be obscene. Legally, there is a difference between obscenity and erotica. Obscenity is generally illegal, and erotica is protected speech. There are many different sets of rules and guidelines that have been used to determine if something is considered obscene or not. The most widely used current set of guidelines is the Miller test. From my research, most (if not all) erotic fan fiction would not be considered obscene because of its ‘literary, artistic, political, or scientific value’.

Some interesting links in relation to this subject that go into detail:

Wikipedia - US Obscenity Law - About halfway down, there is a section on non image-based obscenity cases in the US. The first part of this section, which deals with the written word, is very enlightening about the differences between obscenity and erotica. Further down is a section about criticism of the laws which shows some of the gaps in the law where free speech lives. Continuing on, the section about censorship in schools and libraries explains the part CIPA (Children’s Internet Protection Act) plays in protecting minors from material that could be considered harmful to them.

Online Art Rights - Sexual Content - This site details the many attempts at limiting indecent material on the internet through the years. (Scroll down and click on the plus signs in the black bars to expand each section.) In each case cited, the court ruled that to ban all objectionable material would interfere with free speech because it would reduce all content to a level appropriate for children. They also concluded that since less restrictive means exist, such as user-controlled filters and the like, those tools can be used without reducing all discourse on the internet. The section on Child Pornography at the bottom might be of interest to anyone who writes Weecest smut, though.

The only possible exception that I think would affect the SPN fandom would be those who write Weecest smut. Child pornography seems to be the exception to every rule that protects free speech. Where every other depiction of a sex act might have a ‘but’ that makes it erotica (and therefore legal) instead of obscenity, child pornography in any medium is considered obscenity. Anything that even just looks like child porn is considered child porn, even if no children were a part of the making of it. This includes cartoons and CGI and adults made up to look like kids. If it’s advertised as children in a sexual situation, it’s child porn. So, I imagine it could extend to written erotica IF someone were to decide to push it.

Now, that’s a huge if. Someone would have to read it, object to it, and insist on prosecution for it. I think if that were going to happen, given 15 years of SPN fan fiction, it would have happened by now. But I would still keep my Weecest smut-free, or implied, or at least over the age of consent (which varies, so 18 is just easiest to use).

Also, AO3 complies with the laws regarding filtering for minors. If you do not have an account, you are required to click through a step that tells you that you are about to view something explicit. That's really all that sites and such are required to do. Hence, Tumblr making you click through and view on dash blogs they mark as explicit.

@emilyshurley I think there might also be a sorta solution just to play it safe. I saw that people who make mods for games like Sims 4 and stuff have a page for terms of download. What that is is that if you click their masterlist it will take you to a post where they list their conditions and have the words "I agree" and link the actual masterlist to that. Now this might take a little effort but we could add something similar before our masterlists.

This is all legal stuff, not site-specific rules. Each site can implement their own decency rules and enforce them how they see fit. For example, Tumblr, as a company, can decide to delete your blog. (They’ve stopped doing this since The Purge, now just marking each blog explicit and making you click on a couple things to get to those blogs they deem explicit.) Should they choose to do this, it does not mean that you’re in trouble with the law.

Now, onto the fun stuff!

Q: What is the first thing you think of when someone asks you for advice about writing smut?

Ash: Word choice- don't make the reader cringe. It's easy to fall into that because smut can be graceful and tasteful if it's done right. And that starts with thinking through word choice and how the scene is flowing. It's not easy to write smut! I think a lot of non-writer readers do not realize that.

Note: During the chat, we created a Google Sheets spreadsheet, with two sheets in it, with lists of words to use to refer to different things when you’re writing smut. The first sheet is Good Words, and the second sheet is Bad Words. Everyone can enter words they like and don’t like on both sheets, and we’ll crowd-source this problem! Check it out and add your favorites!

Michelle: A smut scene takes ten times as long for me to write as anything else. Just keeping track of limbs is difficult! And clothing....sometimes, I just make them dry hump so I don't have to deal with removing all the clothing! Other times, it's just, "Somehow, you suddenly found yourself naked." Like, there's a million great ways to get characters naked, but if I'm tired, angels snap.

@fictionalabyss (Mel): I've read stuff where a position makes no sense and it ruins the whole thing for me. Michelle: I actually bought a couple of those posable dolls from IKEA. (IKEA - GESTALTA, Artist’s figure) @babypieandwhiskey (Cam): I’ll have to use my daughter’s old Barbie dolls! I can keep track of both limbs and clothing!

Q: Ash, what are a few of the words that turn you off when you're reading smut?

Ash: It's usually words that sound so "romance novel"-ish to me. So "turgid member" is a good example. Please no one ever write that. Mel: Sometimes, keeping it simple is the safest and best bet. Ash: Absolutely, Mel! Sometimes we don't need all the extra words if we're showing the heat that's already there between them.

[What followed was a long discussion of various terms you definitely should not use in serious smut. They’ve all been added to the spreadsheet linked above, so fee free to check it out.]

Michelle: EVERYONE has those words that squick them, and it's damn near impossible to write a smut scene that doesn't include a word that will squick someone out there. So, don't stress about what words you do or don't use, cuz there's always gonna be someone out there who doesn't like something. Just make sure YOU think what you're writing is hot. If you don't get warm under the collar from it, no one else will, either. Ash: I highly recommend everyone is reading their fics out loud to see how it all flows. You'll catch errors and weird words there too.

Q: Ash, how do you get in the frame of mind to write something you personally have never experienced? For example, certain kinks.

Ash: Whiskey? LOL No, I do a lot of research- google, porn, erotica. Trying something out in person helps too! But we're writing fiction. You can make a kink work for your scenario too.I mean, I've written a reader squirting after 5 minutes to move things along but we all know it takes longer usually. And that's the fun! I've never actually been with 2 dudes but I f-ing love writing it. @atc74 (Angelina): I've always said I don't need to kill someone to write a murder scene. Ash: Smut is all about having an open mind. It lets us and the readers be someone else.

Question submitted earlier by @erins-culinary-service: I've wanted to try writing smut but never known exactly how to start and what words to use to describe everything. I've had sex so I know the sensations, positions, etc I'm just not sure how to write it all down any advice?

Ash: So sometimes I can't just start from "they kissed..." I start wherever I can see it best. So is it oral sex, or already doing it, I just jump in. And then I come back and fill it in. And I just write, no stopping once I get going. So the "cock into her hole" can be fixed later on my next edit. I just gotta get the idea out and then go back and make it hot. My smut is never hot in my first draft. Michelle: I think that's what stops a lot of writers, is thinking they have to publish their first draft. Editing is totally a thing. Just get the ideas on paper, and then make them hot later. Ash: Oh yeah, I go through at least 3 drafts per fic. Plus my beta version. Yeah, no one is ever going to see your drafts so don't worry about starting somewhere, anywhere. Michelle: And remember, practice practice practice - As with any writing, the more you write it, the easier it becomes. I wrote Third Wheel as a way to challenge myself with writing smut. Do a kink bingo or alphabet challenge. Just remember, you’re gonna write crap at the start, but crap makes good compost. Ash: Taking some time between edits is important too. It'll help you see different ways, AND you'll start having breakthroughs during the time away. Bingos are a great challenge that will help a writer grow. Cam: Writing smut is like sex, you're first time is going to be awkward and things won't be perfect, but with practice it gets better. Mel: I have a series that shows even the millionth time having sex isn't perfect and can be all laughs 🤣. But yeah.

Question submitted earlier by @focusonspn: i wanted to know about ways and words to describe orgasms and how to approach the moment after it without being awkward or forced. some people say those are the easiest things to write, but somehow i always have a hard moment trying to write them.

Ash: Hmmmm, as for the moments after- that's understandable, it is hard because its a transition. I think it's doesn't have to be an extended part of it- unless they're about to have a talk or aftercare needs a scene, it can be as simple as "we drifted off to sleep." Michelle: As always, my advice is to read smut that other people write that you like, and take note of what they do. Mel: Someone can get up and get dressed and leave. They can play in the fluids. They can lay there catching their breaths for a moment. It can be simple. Sometimes it doesn't need a flourish and that flourish can make it seem forced. Michelle: I think it depends on what type of smut fic you're writing. Is it fluffy smut where they're all in LOVE and kissy and stuff? Or is it Soulless Sam and Demon Dean just getting down and dirty and claiming you for themselves? Or, Soulless Sam or Demon Dean just getting their rocks off and they don't give a shit? @emilyshurley (Emily): Also this might be my f*cked up brain but I think if someone is not comfortable with a lot of fluffy buildup to smut trying soulless!Sam or Demon!Dean could be a great start. You also have a little room to do a little out of character. Michelle: We are blessed with a world that includes all types of characters and all types of situations, from curses (sex pollen, love potions, etc) to supernatural beings, to inspire and give us chances to write all kinds of smut. There are no limits to what you can do in Supernatural, so there are no limits to what we can write. Ash: Yeah we can really make most kinks work in some way in the SPN worlds. Emily: Also again with going out of character I read a captain America fic where it could have been a little out of character how he jumped straight to sex (someone commented that) but sex pollen made it work. So basically these tropes/kinks can also be good devices for writing NSFW fics to if you struggle to get the characters write in the beginning.

Other links mentioned:

Emily: I saw this advice list on Tumblr, so thought I should share it: List of Smut Writing Guides

Ash: This one, too: @smut-101′s Smut Tips Masterlist

And last, but definitely not least...

Ash: Always, always, always write for you. Readers come and go but you have to be satisfied and proud of what you've written. And everyone should get so much credit for trying to write smut. It's difficult but its does get easier and more fun with practice!

General Pond Updates and Reminders

What we’ve got cooking up next: Not much, at the moment, since everyone is busy, so we’re just trying to keep up with the day-to-day at the moment! Our to do list is still long, though, and will not be neglected forever!

Reminders:

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

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

Say hi to September’s New Members!

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

We don’t have a topic or speaker set up for November’s event, yet, so if there’s something you want to talk about, or someone you want to talk to, LET US KNOW!

#spnfanficpond live chat #chat room #let's chat #pond chat #THE CHAT ROOM #chat recap #smut #vocabulary

17 notes · View notes

lilacflamesss · 5 years

Text

In the Silence (Chapter 1)

Kacchako College AU

Summary: Ochako has always had feelings for her best friend from high school, Izuku. However, she's never been able to make any progress towards a relationship with him. After a friend plants an idea into her head, Ochako tries to stir some jealousy within Izuku through dancing with Katsuki, who she happens to meet and befriend in a club. Little did Ochako realise that there's more than just jealousy being stirred up. Katsuki is an exchange student who returned to Tokyo after ten years of living abroad. Bearing a childhood grudge, he finds the perfect opportunity to get back at Izuku for what happened all those years ago. But plans never go as smoothly as one expects.

A college AU with the 1A kids, where they go about their everyday lives in their second year of college.

Rating: Explicit

Warning: AGED-UP characters. All smut scenes are consensual and between adults. Heavy sexual content. Please consider before reading it you’re uncomfortable with such content! No hard feelings!!

A/N: Hi everyone! So I've really been meaning to write a Kacchako fic ever since I got into BNHA but I ended up procrastinating it a lot thanks to my writer's block following a whole Tumblr mess. I had intended initially to start this off on Kacchako Week Day 3 since the prompt was fake dating but my internship was keeping me really busy. The week has ended but it's fine. I'll just release it as it is! I hope everyone will show support to this fic! Please do reblog this and feel free to leave some comments!

Preview:

“The fuck are you staring at?” He raises his voice and takes a step forward. This time, Ochako stays in her spot, her eyes moving up to fix on his. He’s still frowning and his expression continues to yell at her to run as far away as she could. But she doesn’t. Instead, she smiles at him. She gives him a look you’d expect to see in a place like this, Mina’s plan surfacing in her mind. She could dance with him and maybe, just maybe, if Izuku sees this, she might finally start going somewhere with him. She gives the blonde a smile— a smile that merely hints at her thirst while challenging him to try more.

Try me.

As she hopes, the blonde replies with a smile of his own and she almost cowers. She’s not scared. Rather, she feels mocked at. He seems to think she’s his prey— a prey in the presence of a predator ten times her size. Her throat goes dry and before she can even think of getting herself a drink, he’s grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him.

“Oh, you’re asking for it,” he snickers. “If you’re challenging me, Round-face, I’m actually going to take you up on that offer.”

He looks down at her and Ochako curses inwardly— he did not have to lick his lips at this moment. But he does and she sees that tongue of his and it is just enough to send her hurling herself headfirst into the gutter.

She has to keep reminding herself what she’s here for— that she shouldn’t be looking at someone other than Izuku, especially not some snarky blonde. She’s about to turn away but she catches the eyes of Mina watching her. Mina had moved away from her previous spot. She’s standing behind the blonde boy now, dancing with a red-headed boy. Even though her partner seems completely into her, Mina’s eyes are wandering over to Ochako, silently instructing her. Ochako looks over at the bar counter. Izuku still isn’t looking in her direction, but there is a chance that he eventually would. When that happens, he’d see her and maybe— just maybe— Mina’s plan might work.

“Wanna dance?”

The club was loud and Ochako can barely hear what Mina was saying. But from the way Mina was slowly trying to get everyone out of their seats while pointing to the dance floor, Ochako figures that had to be what she said.

Kyouka hesitates but she doesn’t resist when Mina grabs onto her and starts to pull her up. Tsuyu and Toru get up as well, following them along. Normally, Ochako would follow them. She loves dancing and it’s a lot more fun when she’s with her friends. But going would mean they’re risking losing their seat and this seat is the perfect seat.

From here, she could see her heaven.

Uraraka Ochako lives the simplest of lives. She’s not rich— far from that, in fact. She’s scrapping about just to get herself by and she’s simply only a college student at this point. It’s likely she won’t even be able to afford college had she not managed to clinch that scholarship she got at the end of high school. For an inconsequential girl like her who lives from hand to mouth every day, her definition of heaven pretty simplistic.

From where she’s seated, Ochako gets the perfect view of the bar counter and therefore, the gorgeous bartender who’s working hard at mixing drinks for various customers. He fixes all of them with smiles even when they’re treating him utterly terribly— the same smile which, when directed at her, always makes her day a million times better. Ochako wonders how people can ever be rude or troublesome to a face like that. How does that even fare with their conscience? She can’t imagine being anything but nice to him and that’s how she’s been with him since high school. Even if it hadn’t gotten her far, she supposes that the strong friendship they share at least means something.

Midoriya Izuku had been one of the first friends she made in high school. He’s no one that really stands out. He isn’t the most handsome of men, even if he does hang around people like Todoroki Shouto for most times. But they had sat together at the beginning of high school and miraculously, they had somehow ended up in the same class year after year. Ochako tries not to keep her hopes up but it almost feels like she’s fated to be with him. However, even after three years of high school, not a single step of progress had been made. Beyond that, all she’s done ever since entering college was nightly club parties at the bar he bartended in just to see him more often.

“Ochako!” Amidst the loud music, she hears Mina’s voice. Mina hops over to her, grabbing her arm just like she did with Kyouka earlier on. “Come on! Let’s dance!”

Ochako allows herself to be pulled to her feet, but she stays rooted in place. Her eyes continue to linger over to the counter. Izuku hasn’t looked in her direction once. The only time they made contact today was when she had gone over with Toru to order the drinks. Izuku must have been used to seeing them at work already, so much so it doesn’t bother him anymore. He’s capable of going the entire time without looking at them either. Maybe trying too much had its cons too. Now that he’s so used to seeing her there, Izuku never ever looks in her direction anymore— not intentionally at least.

“Ochako!” Mina practically screams into her ear. Mina follows Ochako’s gaze and upon realising the subject of her attention, she groans. “God, Ocha, you’re not going to get laid if you don’t do anything!”

Ochako is sure her cheeks are red right now. She can feel them heating up and it’s beyond her control, especially as certain images surface in her mind from Mina’s suggestion. She shakes her head, trying to clear the images out of her mind and Mina takes this brief moment of distraction to start dragging Ochako onto the dance floor.

“Listen!” Mina yells out, trying to make herself heard above the music. “Why don’t you try to make him jealous?”

“What?”

“Dance with someone else! Maybe if Midoriya sees you grinding against someone else, it might awaken something in him. Oh look, there’s a hot blonde behind you,” Mina says. Mina doesn’t give her time to react. Instead, she shoves Ochako lightly, taking her by enough surprise to have her stumble backwards. She feels herself running into someone and she immediately jumps back, spinning around ready to apologize profusely. But when he comes into her sight, she’s frozen.

It’s not the way the guy towers over her that catches her off-guard, neither does his scowl. His eyes bore into hers with an intensity so strong it makes her feel like it’s piercing right through her soul. Her legs turn to jelly. She knows better to mess with the wrong crowd in places like this and this man has “Stay fucking away” painted on his face.

He takes a step to her and on instinct, she backs away, letting out a yelp which goes buried under the music blaring around them. She runs into a couple of other people, but it doesn’t bother her, not when the scary blonde is no2 staring at her with the same terrifying eyes, only with a little confusion present now.

“The fuck, Round-face?” he growls and despite her fear, Ochako is pretty stunned by the sound of his voice. Rough and husky, it suits his appearance perfectly. She calms herself down and takes a look at him. It’s surprise how her fear vanishes almost instantly at this point. He is actually really, really hot. Ochako might be preparing her heart of Izuku, but that doesn’t mean that she has to stop her eyes from feasting on anything— or anyone— she likes.

Try me.

“Oh, you’re asking for it,” he snickers. “If you’re challenging me, Round-face, I’m actually going to take you up on that offer.”

She takes a deep breath and goes for it. Ochako winds her arms around the blonde’s neck, pulling her body close to his. She hears his grunt of satisfaction and his hands immediately find their place on her hips, a little lower than what she’d expect from a boy she only met less than three minutes ago. She sways her hips to the music. It’s tough to move according to her preferred pace when his hands are guiding her hips, but it seems like he has a better sense of rhythm than she does.

He’s wearing a baggy t-shirt. She didn’t notice his build initially but as she dances against him, she realises just how hard his torso feels. He’s bigger than her but feeling his muscles just makes her feel so much smaller in comparison to him. He turns her around and pulls her back to him, leaning over so that he’s towering over and enveloping her beneath him. She feels so tiny, even if she knows she’s much thicker than most of her friends. She isn’t even the shortest. God knows how Tsuyu would look beside this boy. He’s huge; Ochako finds herself wondering if his physique is compensating for something else, or perhaps it is hinting at it. Ochako closes her eyes immediately. She doesn’t want to go there, not even mentally.

He leans over, nuzzling his face into the nape of her neck. He pulls her closer to him and she’s sure she’s all red from the realisation that her ass is pressed against his crotch. She can feel him starting to get more adventurous as well; his hands are roaming her body, rough enough that they tug the fabric of her blouse along.

“You’re really hot, Round-face,” he growls in her ear and his husky voice shoots right through her body and straight to her core. She’s trembling, but she knows she isn’t scared. This is a different feeling— a fire burning deep inside her gut. She’s rubbing her thighs together to ease that uncomfortable desire raging within. Her mouth is watery, but it feels strange, especially in contrast to how dry her throat is.

When she feels his hands brush against her crotch, she loses every last bit of herself. She pushes back against him, grinding herself against him.

“Have you ever done this with someone before?” he asks. She shakes her head and it’s only here that she remembers her purpose. This isn’t supposed to get serious. She is supposed to be making Izuku jealous. Her eyes wander over to the bar counter and she stiffens.

He is looking. Izuku is staring in her direction. Their eyes meet. Ochako tries to act casual, but she’s sure that from the way her body stiffens and her movements stop, the blonde boy can probably tell that something’s up. Izuku shouldn’t be able to see that from where he is. Still, the look on his face can only be described as pure horror. His eyes are wide and she sees him mouthing something. Ochako isn’t sure what he’s saying but it looks like her name… and something else.

“Hey, Round-face. The fuck are you looking—” He pauses as well and Ochako turns around to look at him. The blonde is staring towards the very direction she was looking a moment ago— towards Izuku. His expression is one of surprise for a moment before it slowly turns to a menacing smirk. “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh?”

Ochako blinks, wondering if he’s figured it out. But before she’s able to say anything, the blonde is grabbing her and pulling her towards him again. He turns her so that she’s looking at him and her back is towards the bar counter. The blonde continues to dance with her, but she can see his eyes starting to dart behind them, a victorious expression buried deep within.

“So, is that your boyfriend or something?”

“No. We’re not dating,” she says slowly. She tries to glance behind but the blonde tugs her towards him and she turns back to him.

“I’m guessing you have a thing for him and you’re trying to make him jealous,” he says flatly.

“That’s not completely wrong,” Ochako admits. The blonde stares down at her, his eyes narrowing a little. A grin surfaces on his face and he pulls her to him, her body pressed against his. His hand moves to her chin, tilting it upwards.

“Wanna do something that’ll make him really fucking jealous?” he drawls. She’s stunned for a moment. She never really likes men who cuss too much. They’re unruly and violent. They scare her a lot. The person in front of her should scare her a lot too. Everything about him screams danger. But her legs refuse and neither does the rest of her body. She vaguely has an idea of what he wants right now and she knows that she shouldn’t take it too far. She’s already made Izuku jealous. She can stop now. She has accomplished her mission. She should shake her head, pull away and head to the bar counter. Maybe Izuku might ask her out there. That’s the perfect plan. That’s what she should do; that’s what the rational part of her brain is screaming at her to do.

But she doesn’t. Instead, she nods and she does nothing as he pulls her closer to him, tilting his head and closing his eyes. This isn’t her first kiss. It’s not like she’s saving herself for Izuku. There’s nothing wrong with one little kiss. It’s just a way to have fun.

Even though she tells herself that, when she feels her lips against his, it feels like every nerve in her body had shut down immediately. She can’t think. Everything moves so fast. The kiss is nothing like the chaste peck she was expecting. Instead, he presses his lips harder against hers, nibbling and sucking on her bottom lip until she’s pretty sure it's swelling. He presses down lightly on her chin, prompting her to part her lips. His tongue slides into her as his hand moves to the back of her head, fisting the strands of hair and pushing her against him. Her scalp stings from his roughness, but she’s sure that the sound it elicited from her lips was close to a moan. His free hand moves downwards, grabbing onto her ass, moulding it against his palm slowly, but forcefully. Their kiss is wet and sloppy. His tongue runs along hers a couple of times, circling it before he moves to explore her mouth. Her eyes are squeezed tight; she doesn’t know when that happened.

It takes her a moment to open her eyes after he pulls away from her. Even after breaking the kiss, he keeps his face close to hers, staring at her thoughtfully. Ochako watches him in silence, trying to catch her breath. He’s close enough that despite the dim lighting, she can still study his features— his narrow eyes, their deep orange colour which reminds her a lot of fire, his broad jaw and his thin lips, which are now probably a little plump and red from their kiss. There’s a trail of saliva that connects both their lips and it remains till he takes a step away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That was… pretty good. Even I was surprised,” he admits, stuttering a little. That catches her by surprise. She didn’t think he could even stutter.

“It was?” Her voice comes out meeker than she would like it to. The dangerous smile returns to his face.

“Oh yes, it was. I wasn’t expecting you to kiss back.” She’d have paid more mind to the haughtiness in her voice if it isn’t for the fact that she’s too flustered over the thought of kissing back. She hadn’t noticed it at all How into it was she? Did it show to anyone outside? What did Izuku see? She turns around. Izuku is cleaning a cup but she’s sure that there was a brief moment of eye contact right after she turned. Did he look away immediately the moment he saw her turn to him? Did whatever he see embarrass him that much?

“What do I do?” She turns back to the blonde, who doesn’t bother to conceal his surprise from that question.

“Why’re you asking me?” He’s frowning at her now. She doesn’t sense any anger from him— just confusion. But even then, his expression looks angry. She wonders if that’s a permanent look on his face. Can he smile happily? What does this boy look like when he’s happy or sad? That would be interesting— not that it should concern her. She would most likely not see him again after tonight.

Perhaps the best person to ask would be Mina. Ochako looks around, but not only does she not find Mina, she also does not find any of her other friends either. They must have gotten split up. Ochako isn’t able to spot the redhead Mina was dancing with either. They might have gone back together. She looks over at their seat from earlier and as she had expected, it’s already occupied by someone else now.

“I can’t find my friends,” she says, sighing.

“Yeah, I can’t find mine either,” the blonde says. He takes another look around and then he sighs, running his hand through his hair. “I should… probably head back now. I’ve got classes tomorrow.”

It is a Sunday night and it’s the same for Ochako. She has classes the day after as well. Thankfully, they start in the afternoon which gives her some time to sleep in but staying out too late is still probably not a good idea.

“I’m going too,” she says. She is right about to walk off when the blonde grabs her by the arm.

“Do you want me to drop you off?” She can’t tell if he’s trying to show some kindness to her or if he’s trying for something. She doesn’t know him well enough for that. But his eyes seem genuine. She lets herself consider for a moment before she shrugs.

“Well, why not?”

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“The apartment complex three streets away,” she says. He frowns for a moment and Ochako can immediately tell what kind of a background he must be from. There are only cheap, rundown apartments in that part of town. It’s all she can afford, even with her scholarship. If it isn’t for her, most of her friends wouldn’t know about that place either. This boy must be pretty well-to-do.

In that case, a free ride from him probably isn’t a big deal. It’s a pity. Maybe she should have gotten a drink from him as well.

She follows him as he leads her out of the club. He’s holding her hand while pulling her along. As they’re at the exit, Ochako turns back once again towards the bar counter. Izuku is still watching her, his eyes boring into the sight of her with the blonde. A brief thought crosses her mind and she wonders if she’s taking it too far. But she hasn’t done anything much aside from kiss and dance with the boy— a norm for anyone who comes to have fun around here. She must be thinking too much into Izuku’s look. Maybe love has clouded her mind and made him seem more bothered by it than he actually is.

The blonde and her walk in silence as he leads her to the carpark. She feels that she should at least ask him for his name. However, any words she might have thought of speaking die at the tip of her tongue the moment she lays eyes on his car. There’s only one thing on her mind right now and as if she hasn’t embarrassed herself enough already today, she had to just say it out.

“I didn’t realise how rich you are,” she says. She had meant it as a simple comment but somehow, the words sounded a lot like an insult coming from her mouth.

He frowns, releasing her hands to pull out his car keys. “I’m not rich. My parents are.”

That’s what all rich people say. This time, she keeps it to herself, walking over to enter the car on the passenger’s side after he unlocks it. Maybe she should give up on Izuku and go after this guy instead. He doesn’t seem like an ideal boyfriend but has the potential to be some kind of a sugar daddy.

She watches him as he climbs into the car and starts it up. There’s nothing for her to do except watch him and her eyes start to wander, relishing what she sees. The carpark is brighter than the club and she’s getting a much much better look at him. His spiked hair is a nice, dusty shade of blonde, a lot like the sandy beaches she remembers going to as a kid before her parents got far too busy with their debts and loans. He’s pretty tanned as well and Ochako wonders if he’s outdoors a lot. Maybe he plays some kind of sport. That would explain his muscled body. She can imagine him sweating it out under the sun. Even if her heart is reserved for something else, her mind and eyes would love to feast on that sight.

Her eyes wander further downwards, stopping at his lap. They widen and Ochako isn’t quite able to stop the soft “Oh,” that escapes her lips. He looks at her, confused for a moment before he looks down at himself and sighs. His tight ripped jeans aren’t leaving anything to the imagination right now and Ochako can clearly see what he’s feeling.

“A-Are you sure you can drive?” She has no idea why that’s the first thought that comes into her mind from this and she wants to slap herself for even saying it out.

“I’m not going to crash from this, okay?”

“Are you… sure?” It’s unconscious, but she realises that she’s inching away from him and towards the other end of the seat. He stares at her in disbelief, before groaning and leaning back into his seat.

“It isn’t my fault you were grinding your really hot ass against my dick just now,” he complains. She’s sure it is; she’s very sure it’s him that put them into that position and she’s also sure that he was rubbing himself against her just as hard. But she’s somewhat at a loss for words right now.

“That was all it took?”

His eyes go wide at her statement before he frowns. “Okay, you know what? I bet you’re fucking wet after that as well,” he says, nodding his head towards the club. “There’s no way you’re not horny after that kiss.”

The burning in her gut hadn’t subsided much. Her stomach had continued to churn as he spoke to her, held her hand and pulled her away. Even now, as the two of them sat in that enclosed area, just by themselves, every word from his lips seems to fly right into her, spicing up that very feeling. She’s been doing well at ignoring it so far, but only right up till he pointed it out. She turns away and looks out there window at the empty parking lot beside them.

“That’s impossible,” she says, clinging on to the stubborn denial— the only ounce of dignity and pride she has left right now. “You’re not the one I like.”

“Oh, babe,” he laughs with a cheeky, pitying tone. He takes her by the chin again and turns her head to face him. He’s leaning over to her now, keeping his face as close to hers as it had been earlier on after they kissed. “The body isn’t the heart. It’ll crave for anything that it sees, likes and wants.”

She wonders how many girls he’s gotten into his car like this with these words. Maybe she was wrong about him after all. Maybe he is a pervert. Maybe he really is going to do something to her. She should get out of the car fast. She pushes him away from her, making some distance immediately. His expression doesn’t fall and he continues staring at her with the same look— mischievous, sultry and almost promising of a good time.

“So is this why you offered to drive me home? To get me into your car and convince me to have sex with you?”

The boy blinks at her a couple of times before she shakes his head with a loud sigh. “Don’t get me wrong. I really am planning on driving you home, but I’m open to other possibilities.”

She turns away. “Pervert.”

“If you say no, I’ll drive you home and we’ll go our separate ways. But if you say yes,” he pauses, leaning over till his mouth is by her ear. She can hear his deep breathing. His warm breath brushes past her ear, making the hair on the back of her neck stand. When he speaks again, his voice is loud and husky, articulating every word with such an intensity that has her trembling even without him touching her. “I’d take you on a wild ride.”

She continues looking away from him. His words are affecting her far too much— much more than she deems acceptable. Her stomach clenches at the implication of his words. It takes her a while to realise how much she’s squirming and how she keeps rubbing her thighs together subconsciously. She can feel his gaze on her, studying her so intently that she knows well enough that he’s noticing this change in her as well.

Even then, she doesn’t say anything. After a couple of seconds, he moves away from her without a sound. She glances at him from the corner of her eye. He’s starting up the car again, one hand moving to the seatbelt. He must be keeping to his words then; he’s really going to drive her home. At that thought, her heart drops quicker than she had expected it to.

“Wait,” she says, speaking so fast that it takes her a moment to realise she had actually spoken. The boy turns to her, his brows furrowed. He doesn’t say anything but his confusion is written all over his face— what now? She clears her throat, readying herself, clearing her conscience and regaining her composure. She tries to feel more confident about herself, just like she had been on the dance floor with him. “What do you want to do?”

“What do you want to do?” It takes her aback for a moment when he shoots the question right back at her. She doesn’t know what she wants. She’s never done this before. She doesn’t even know what feels good. He doesn’t wait for her to answer. Instead, he releases the seat belt he’s holding, letting it fly back to its original position, and leans back into his seat. “Do you really want this?”

When she nods, he flashes her the same playful smirk she’s gotten used to seeing. He reaches forward, to the bottom of his chair, to reposition it a little backwards. He pats on his lap. “Come here.”

His words, while not intense enough to the point of being called an order, sents shivers down her spine. His eyes have darkened from earlier on and there’s a very different expression now. She climbs over to his seat, sitting on his lap. She can feel his erection poking against her and all her mind seems to be willing to think of right now is how it’s going to feel inside of her. Her throat is going dryer again and she forces herself to swallow some of her saliva as he starts to play with the hem of her blouse, leaning forward to suck lightly against the crook of her neck.

The silence is almost overwhelming. He doesn’t even say anything as he starts to push her blouse up, his hand travelling underneath to touch her warm skin. The tips of his fingertips are cold and she trembles as he runs them against her. He pulls away from her after a while and starts to undo the buttons on the blouse. He stops when he’s about midway and Ochako can see from the faint reflection in his windshield that it’s enough to reveal her chest. She can anticipate just what is coming next. Even for a virgin like her, guys can be pretty predictable.

She leans back against him as he reaches into her bra, pulling her breasts out. Her eyes fall closed as he starts to massage them softly, his thumbs moving to flick her nipples. They’re harder than usual and as he continues to rub against them, they harden further.

“You must be really turned on,” he comments and pinches both her nipples hard. She yelps, her body shaking. He continues pressing on them hard, twisting them. They hurt, but Ochako realises that it doesn’t bother her much at all. In fact, the pain is almost too delicious. As he continues to tweak them, she’s leaning her chest into his hand, panting from such a simple ministration.

“I’m not… turned on,” she breaths out. Her voice is coming out in broken and soft pants. Deny it as she wants, but her voice betrays her state. The boy must have noticed it as well. He lets out a scoff of disbelief but he releases her breasts. Ochako is almost tempted to whine to him to continue, or even to continue herself, but he distracts her but turning her around, leading her into a new position. She’s facing him now, straddling his lap. He lifts her slightly so that she’s kneeling, her knees positioned on the edge of the chair.

He grabs her breasts again, only to stop and curse under his breath. “Your bra is annoying.” He reaches behind to undo the bra before slowly pulling it off from under her shirt. It takes a while for him to untangle it from her clothes but when he does get it off, it feels much more comfortable for her as well. He tosses the bra aside and leans forward, his lips pressing against the side of her left breast before he moves to take the nipple. As he alternates between rolling it with his tongue and nibbling on it, his hands are moving to her skirt, pushing it up and exploring underneath.

Her mind’s already spinning from what he’s doing to her breast. Her moist nipple tenses up against the cool air whenever he pulls away and it just leaves her craving more and more. She wonders if her desire is showing on her face, especially since he seems to be getting amused from watching her expressions. But when his fingers come into contact with her panties, his look is one of complete victory.

He’s pressing his hand hard against her clothed cunt and as much as she’s been trying to ignore it, she can’t pretend she isn’t wet when he’s touching her like this. He strokes her through the cotton and when he finds her clit, he rubs circles around it. Ochako can’t keep her hips still. She grinds back against him, mewling desperately in hopes that she’ll be able to feel more. The friction from the cotton feels nice but she wants his skin against hers.

“So wet,” he drawls, raising his fingers up to his lips. He darts his tongue out and licks them. “You taste so good…”

Her heart is racing. It happened so fast that it took her a while to realise it and when by the time it actually registered that he had licked the juices from her cunt, he’s manoeuvring her into a new position. He lifts her up, holding her against the steering wheel. Her legs are spread, her knees bent, and she’s completely exposed before him. It’s so cold, especially where she’s drenched right now. But even then, she knows that it’s not the cold that’s making her shiver. He keeps her in place while he leans forward. She watches in silence as he opens his mouth and bites onto the fabric of her panties.

“What are you—” Her voice trails off, her eyes widening in disbelief, as she watches him tug them off her. She doesn’t have any time to react before he’s ducking his head between her legs, his mouth finding its place against her wetness. He lets her knees go, letting her legs rest on his shoulders.

Ochako jumps the moment his mouth finds her clit, sucking it so hard that she actually starts to feel a slight but enjoyable pinch. The car’s horn goes off as she moves and she tries her best to keep still but with every tug of her clit, she can’t stop the surge in her hips. With every horn that goes off, she’s reminded again and again that she’s still in public.

Even then, she can feel herself only getting wetter and wetter.

It feels like she’s boiling. Her body burns hotter as he continues until it reaches a peak. She’s threatening to fall over the edge. It feels dangerous. She knows she can never come back the moment she slips into it. He continues licking and sucking, coaxing her along. It feels like he’s telling her to go on— that it’s okay to take that leap. But she doesn’t really have a choice. He’s just too good at it. He pushes her over the edge regardless of what she’s thinking.

He’s right. It is okay. It’s more than okay. It’s great. It’s wonderful. It’s perfect. As she rides that high, it’s unlike anything she’s felt before. She’s experimented with herself before. She’s tried things out with her hands. But nothing has made her feel this way. His mouth feels so much better than her fingers. There isn’t even a comparison. It’s just that different.

It takes a moment for her to compose herself. He’s watching her with the same narrowed eyes as before. Despite having eaten her out, he still looks hungry. The silence that hangs between them is awkward and heavy and at the back of her mind, her rational voice screams at her. He’s still a stranger. She still doesn’t know him; she doesn’t even know his name.

“What do you think? You were crying out pretty loudly,” he says. She tries to speak, but she realises her throat is far too dry and he must be right. She hadn’t realised just how loud she had been. He pulls her closer to him, sitting her back down on his lap. The tent in his jeans had gotten larger, probably as much as the tight material will let it go. He pushes her down as he pulls her into a kiss. She tastes herself on his lips and tongue, a strange bitterness which makes her wonder how he had managed to continue eating her out like she’s his most delicious meal in years. He’s grinding their hips together again, his clothed erection rubbing directly against her leaking cunt. There’s a lot of friction from the thick fabric of his jeans but it only seems to make it feel better. When he rubs against her clit, she can’t resist rubbing back, her mouth releasing a moan against his lips.

The fire is burning again. This time, it’s stronger and more intense. Ochako doubts her body is going to give her a choice. She doesn’t think she’ll be satisfied until she actually gets what it wants and what it wants, is in his pants.

She pulls away from him, reaching down to undo his belt and pants. She reaches in after unzipping him, sliding her hand under the waistband of his black boxers. She finds it immediately. He lets out a hiss the moment her fingers wrap around his dick and a soft groan as she pulls it out. He’s silent as she strokes him, but she can tell just how good it feels for him from the way his eyes narrow and his breathing deepen.

She only touches him for a bit before he stops her with his hands. He takes her by the hip and guides her till she’s right above his dick. She trembles as he positions her appropriately. The tip of his dick presses against her entrance, almost sliding it but not so much yet. The pleasure is dancing about her, teasing her with hints of just how good it could feel, but running away the moment she tries to reach for it. She knows she has to move; she has to take it if she longs to feel that contentment she’s craving right now. But the rational voice is still screaming from the back of her mind. When she does this, there’s no going back.

She lets him guides her down, wincing from the force he uses. His dick slides in easily with how wet she is, but her core throbs as he tears into her. She feels tears at the corner of her eyes, but she tries her best to keep herself from crying— to keep her face as straight as possible as she meets his eyes.

The boy's eyes are wide, confusion and a hint of concern in his eyes. He holds her body still, and she can tell from the way he’s twitching inside of her that he’s holding himself back from moving as well. “You… This is your first time?”

She nods and he furrows his brows. He remains silent, keeping his hips still. But he lets his hands wander, moving to a breast and playing lightly with her nipple. It’s only slight but that takes her mind a little off the pain. She closes her eyes and focuses on his fingers as the pain slowly starts to subside. When it does eventually vanish, she’s amazed at how good it starts to get. Even without him moving within her, she feels full and complete. Her face must have started to show the change in her because the boy drops his hands to her sides again and slowly starts to move. He lifts her up, only to slam her back down again, in time with an upward thrust of his hips.

Her mind is spinning. She wonders if she’s getting enough oxygen in this car. It’s getting so hard to breathe as he continues to pound into her. His hands move from her hips down to her ass, grabbing a cheek in each. He doesn’t bother with being gentle. His fingers are digging right into her ass, squeezing her as he continues to guide her movements.

“So tight,” he grunts and Ochako feels herself clench down even harder on him. His thrusts start to pick up in pace and force. She can feel him coming closer and closer to something which seems to be craving attention. He misses it a couple of times but when he does hit her right at that spot, a scream escapes from her lips as her body jolts. He smirks and strengthens his thrusts even further, this time making sure to constantly aim in that direction.

She’s losing her mind. Her arms wind around his shoulders, pulling herself to lean against his body for further support, resting her head in the crook of his neck. She starts to move along with him as well, rolling her hips along with his thrusts and guidance. She can hear the soft grunts of pleasure escaping from his own lips.

This is what she’s been missing out all these while. She’s heard of it from her friends before. She’s never had a boyfriend before and she’s never bothered with meeting boys whenever she went for parties with her friends. She always comes to this club merely to watch Izuku. She wonders what she’s up to with this blonde boy right now. The point of all this was to make Izuku jealous, which she had done by dancing with the boy already. This moment right now was irrelevant to the plan. She had no reason to be sleeping with someone else. She wonders if she’s being unfair to both Izuku and the boy she’s fucking right now.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He moves himself to her ear to whisper this to her directly. The huskiness of his voice makes her throat choke up, the compliments flying to her brain. They were shallow comments about her appearance and guys had said that to her thousands of times before. But she doesn’t think she looks too pretty right now. Her hair is moist from her sweat, the strands plastered on her face. Her face must be so flushed right now. She doubts she can control the expressions on her face. She must look really warped from the pleasure she’s feeling. Her clothes are partially undone and crumpled. Her skirt is also stained from their juices.

“Fuck,” he curses. She can tell from his expression that he’s reaching close to his high, just as the same type of pleasure from earlier is surfacing in her. She’s reaching the edge again, right about to fall. He’s frowning, something clearly bothering him. But even as he speaks, his movements continue to get more and more erratic. “Fuck, I forgot the fucking condom.”

A wave of panic passes through her but right at this moment, she falls again. Her body spasms as she chokes out a cry. She’s clenching hard on his dick, almost pulling him over as well. But all she feels is him pulling out of her. She opens her eyes, still hazy from her orgasm and watches him lean into his seat, head tilted backwards. His hand is holding onto his dick, stroking it far quicker than she ever would dare to. She hadn’t gotten a good look at his dick till now and she’s surprised at how big it is— how did that ever fit inside of her? His body jerks and she watches the thick white liquid shoot out, spilling onto his hand. Most of it gets onto her, staining her blouse and skirt in the process.

The boy continues to lean back, muttering a soft curse under his breath. He looks spent and a little tired. Through his half-lidded eyes, he watches her, studying her from top to bottom. Ochako looks down at herself. She’s a mess of sweat and the cum that had gotten onto her doesn’t help her case. Some had gotten onto her breasts and she swipes her thumb over them to clean them off, only for them to get onto her thumbs. She stares at it for a moment, her curiosity planting wanton ideas into her mind. She brings her thumb to her lips hesitantly before she flicks her tongue out, cautiously licking up his cum. He had tasted her earlier on; she wants to know how he tastes like as well.

His taste is far different from what she had tasted of herself from his lips. He’s salty, with a slight metallic tinge. It’s not that bad. She thinks she can get used to a taste like that. She swipes her tongue along the remainder, licking it all off her thumb before she swallows it. Despite the air conditioner in the car, it’s still pretty warm.

The boy is watching her intently, his expression playful and dirty despite them already having finished. He takes her by the chin and pulls her to him, swiping his thumb against her bottom lip.

“You can’t just do that and not expect to turn me on again, you know,” he growls. She wishes he’d stop talking with that tone. It’s heavy and gruff, far more so than he had sounded when they were dancing. When he speaks like that, it feels like the words are headed directly to her core and it makes her ache for more and more.

“I… I didn’t mean—” She stops, eyes widening when he pulls her to lean against him, pressing her body against his. Her breasts are being pressed down against his clothed chest and she wonders if he’s liking that feeling.

He licks her ear lobe, before speaking right into it. “Do you want more?” He uses that voice again and she’s sure her stomach is doing deep somersaults within her— or maybe they’re her ovaries.

“I have… classes tomorrow,” she admits.

“So do I.” He’s nibbling on her ear now, one of his hands moving back to her ass to caress it lightly. His movements are lazier now, as are his words and tone. Ochako wishes she can even be half as calm as he is right now. But her heart is racing and the butterflies in her stomach are darting about so much, she’s sure they’re more like moths searching for a light source.

“Maybe if we go someplace else…” Her rational mind is screaming at her again, but she can feel her body cheering her for her bold suggestion.

“You’re right. A car isn't the best place to have a first time,” he laughs. He lifts her up and helps her back into the passenger seat. She confused for a moment, watching him silently as he adjusts his pants and tugs the seatbelts. He glances at her, before raising his eyebrows. “I promised to take you home, didn’t I?”

A/N: Apparently tumblr removed the function which allows us to add a line within the post so this is the best I can do to indicate a break.

Thank you so much for reading chapter 1 of ItS! I hope it was a good read and that people look forward for more of what’s to come. If anyone here is happening to read this after having read my previous TG fics, I think you might notice some similarities to a certain other one as we go on. And you're probably right. I love complicated relationships like that. I don't think this fic will come up to as intense and complicated as that one, but we'll see where we go from here.

By the way, the title of this fic, 'In the Silence', is taken from a song of the same name, which is also the song I listened to while planning the story. It is sung by a member of my favourite K-pop group ever (Highlight). His name is Son Dong Woon. I recommend playing this song in the background while reading the subsequent chapters in fic. It doesn't really suit Chapter 1 though since this was just pretty much smut so I left the recommending to the end. I’d link the song but I know that tumblr remove posts with links from the tags.

Once again, please please do reblog if you like this! It’ll really help me out. Feel free to leave comments in the tags/ reblogs/ replies or through asks!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #kacchako #uraraka ochako #bakugou katsuki #bnha fanfic #far writes stuff #my fic: in the silence

28 notes · View notes

ohblackdiamond · 5 years

Text

the end of the world tour (kiss/endgame crossover, r) (part 1/4)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

“Peter, c’mon, you’re saying we should just waltz right in to their place and tell them what, exactly? ‘Hi, we’re KISS. We haven’t done anything heroic in forty years, but—’”

“I wouldn’t say we haven’t done anything heroic in forty years. We all got married.”

Or, four washed-up former rockstar superheroes don the spandex of old in a last-ditch effort to save an already half-gone world. They just need a little support from a billionaire who's not too keen on KISS interrupting his private life. Somewhat Endgame compliant.

Notes: Most of this probably goes without saying given the general content of this tumblr, but in case anyone MCU wanders in-- KISS has been a part of Marvel Comics since 1977, and, in fact, starred in Marvel’s first full-color, magazine-sized comic book from that same year (in an infamous publicity stunt, the band members added their own blood to the ink of the first issue). Their characterization, history, and powers vary from run to run, and to be honest, it was easier just to pull from KISS Meets the Phantom of the Park and a bit of Scooby-Doo Meets KISS for powers, and actual band history for most of the rest. (Pulling from comic history, well, would have entailed messily trying to make canon ’70’s teamups with Spider-man and the Avengers work out with MCU—impractical at best!) Mistakes are mine.

Intimations of your typical usual suspect pairings, but nothing explicit.’

Looking back, the signs had been there all along. The KISS memorabilia starting to spread out like a fungus to all parts of the mansion they’d moved into five years prior. The cold cream that had found its way back to the bathroom counters.

The abrupt shift in mood of half the household.

The gloomier half. Except that wasn’t much of a specification. Ace tried to be upbeat, but he spent the bulk of his time alone, tinkering with the fifty-year-old remnants of his spaceship, though each assurance that he was going back to Jendell (“you guys’ll come with me, it’ll be great, we’ll just stay there forever”) seemed hollower with every passing year. Gene had put on an incredibly gutsy show in public for the first several months after the decimation, donating millions to clean up efforts around the greater New York area, only to falter in private. Paul had only started recovering enough to shave regularly over the past six or seven months.

Peter wasn’t in great shape himself. He knew it, too. But he was surviving. They were all doing that much. They had a daily routine down, one they stuck to as strictly as cloistered monks. Cooking duties divvied up; chores divvied up. Shopping divvied up. They could’ve hired help easily. The battered remnants of the KISS juggernaut were still enough for generations to live off of, like a bastard version of the Vanderbilts. But doing the chores themselves gave everything a sense of purpose. Meaning.

They weren’t doing poorly for four widowers. Coping a whole lot better than most guys their age who’d lost everyone but each other.

Deep down, Peter knew they couldn’t have made it any other way. They would’ve all been driven out of their minds with grief. Just cracked up. Especially those first few months after moving in together. In a sick kind of desperation, they’d spent that time sleeping in the basement together, the four of them, on a pair of pull-out couches. The prospect of waking up alone was just that awful. The craving for normalcy just that deep. Waking up to Ace’s morning wood (Christ, the guy was sixty-eight; his ability to maintain a hard-on had to just be alien biology at this point) had become a strange, nostalgic kind of comfort.

They were still sharing rooms sometimes. It felt really juvenile, at least to Peter, crawling into one of the other guys’ rooms at night, like a kid with a nightmare, but it helped. Touch helped. Living together brought them some focus beyond themselves. Forced them to look out for each other. Keep each other from doing something stupid. Funny how without any contract or tour bullshit to worry about, they could stand each other again.

Sometimes a little more than that. Sometimes a lot.

But Peter really didn’t connect the dots for awhile. One morning, he stumbled downstairs to see Paul making pancakes from scratch. He hadn’t made any pretenses of being a chef in years, but there he was, even tossing chocolate chips and strawberries into the batter.

“I decided every day was a good day,” he said, shrugging, when Peter asked him about it.

“He got laid,” Ace had called out from the living room. Peter, staring from an abashed Paul to an oddly-silent Gene, hadn’t asked for any elaboration, figuring he had a fair idea. Well, whatever. If they wanted to go back to fooling around with each other at this late a date, at least there was plenty of Viagra and K-Y to be had.

A few days later, Gene bought about three gallons of ice cream, an exorbitant amount of toppings, and a stash of his Moneybags signature root beer and they all spent the afternoon making and devouring sundaes and floats. Nobody bitched about lactose intolerance. Then they’d sat around and watched Godzilla movies on DVD and played each other on the old KISS pinball machine. It was like old times—really old times.

Peter had just figured things were finally starting to settle into a new normal. A devastating normal, sure, but they were all learning to cope.

He had no idea the coping methods they’d picked involved a lot more than self-help platitudes and dairy products, and a lot less Viagra.

Not until about a month later, on his assigned day to do the shopping—though they were all more flexible on who did the shopping than any other aspect of their chore board. Paul still hated to go anywhere by himself, invariably dragging someone else with him. Usually Gene, sometimes Ace. On his own days, Peter usually tried to invite Ace along, just to get him out of the backyard, even though Ace’s penchant for Arizona Green Tea still far outstripped the supply at the closest grocery store, and Peter would still have to make a dozen weird maneuvers around the place just so they’d avoid the liquor.

This time, though, Peter went alone. Stuffed the old Porsche full of a mix of canned and dried goods, mostly. Still the easiest, cheapest stuff to find, with or without the world half-gone. Almost bizarre to see things start to get in demand again. The first few days—the first few months, after, the grocery store had been hell to go to. Just the smell of all that food rotting for want of people to buy it. The look of it, mold everywhere, flies buzzing, maggots crawling—and not as many as all that.

A fifty-fifty split in all forms of life. Existence was just a coin toss.

He’d pulled into the driveway and gotten out, lugging a couple grocery bags out with him as he headed toward the door, pushing the doorbell with his elbow. No answer.

Another push. Nothing.

Ace was probably out back somewhere. Paul and Gene were probably upstairs, too close to deaf to have heard him away from the main floor. Goddammit. Peter sighed and set down one of the grocery bags, digging through his pockets for the house key, pulling it out and unlocking the door, only to be greeted by an odd, clinking sound and a low groan as he stepped inside.

“Gene?”

Peter dropped the grocery bags and hurried towards the noise, mouth pursed. No panicking. He couldn’t afford to panic. Still, it could be anything. Gene never had taken care of himself that well—sure, he’d never done drugs, but he had the diet of an emancipated six-year-old—prime candidate for a heart attack, for sure—

“…. What’re you…”

“Peter?”

Gene was lying on his back on the kitchen tile, mostly-obscured by the girl straddling him. She was leaning forward, blonde hair like streamers over his face as she kissed him, his hands clasping her wrists, holding them above his head, against the floor. Her white dress was bunched up enough it was obvious there was nothing beneath.

It was a scene Peter had first witnessed out of Gene around 1974, and it hadn’t gotten any more appealing in forty-five years. Just a lot more curious. No, fucking bewildering. Normally, Gene was—had been—infamous for stripping off as few clothes as possible in his rush to get to the main event. It was like the man thought a groupie couldn’t wait for him to get his jeans more than five inches past his hips. But this time was beyond bizarre. Gene wasn’t in his usual jeans and cowboy boots and button-down. He was in costume.

More specifically, he was in every ignoble inch of his Destroyer costume, except for the codpiece. His black leotard was hiked down to the tops of his scaly, silver monster boots, chest armor stretched over his torso, black leather gauntlets on. The last time Peter had seen any of that particular outfit, Clinton was still president.

The blonde gave him a brief look, then Gene, who whispered something Peter couldn’t quite hear. Then she started rolling her hips against his again, Gene dropping his hold on her wrists to cup his hands around her face, her hair sweeping over them both, preventing Peter from getting a great look at either of them. Peter just stared, unsure of whether his eyes could afford a closer vantage point.

“Really, Gene?”

“I’m—ngh, doing my duty as an American citizen here.”

“Your duty?”

“FER. Federal Emergency Repopulation.” Gene paused, glancing at the blonde. “If he’s bothering you, we can take it upstairs—"

“Jesus Christ, Gene, you’re seventy years old! And why the fuck are you in the costume?”

“Well, that aspect wasn’t really up to me.”

“Gene, sit the fuck up and look at me.”

“Peter—”

Gene raised up a few inches as every bit of color drained out from Peter’s face.

He looked better than he had in forty years. No, that wasn’t right. He looked like he had forty years ago. The Demon makeup couldn’t obscure it. The lines around his eyes and forehead were gone. The fullness that age and weight had left in his face and neck and chest had vanished utterly. He looked healthy. He looked young, terrifyingly young.

“Gene, what the hell did you do?”

“I—"

Before Peter could manage a single syllable, a loud, shrill cry from upstairs interrupted everything.

“Paul?”

“Oh, shit. Let’s not continue this upstairs.” Gene’s attention was back on the blonde, who rolled her hips up against his invitingly. “Better check on Paul, Pe—ohh, fuck, yeah…”

Peter darted upstairs, yanking open the door to Paul’s room to find almost the exact same scenario. One he hadn’t seen in decades. Paul, halfway in costume, rhinestone-covered black jumpsuit hanging somewhere around his hips, with a girl up against the wall, her bare legs wrapped around his waist. Three hip replacements, two knee replacements, and at least one rotator cuff replacement and yet Paul didn’t seem to be having any issues holding her there. Or plowing her.

Probably because he, too, looked to be about forty years younger.

---

Half an hour later, both girls were gone and Paul and Gene were back to a semblance of normal. The makeup had, weirdly, lingered when they’d reverted back—Peter couldn’t remember that ever happening when they were actively in the superhero business—though neither of them seemed particularly surprised by that, just a bit disappointed. Paul had darted over to the bathroom to get some cold cream and washcloths, like that would head Peter off at the pass, before returning to sit down at the table with Gene and Peter.

Peter was still fuming.

“Look, Peter, I can explain—” Gene started.

“You don’t need to. It’s obvious. You used the talismans.”

“Well, yeah.” Paul looked about as apologetic as a kid who hadn’t been caught until after eating the entire bag of Oreos.

“I didn’t know they could do that.”

“We didn’t, either.”

“Bullshit, that’s the only reason you were fucking—”

“No, really! We got them out for old time’s sake a couple months ago.”

“It makes sense, I mean, mystical artifacts from Victor Von Doom’s mom, supposed to reveal the true self of the holder…” Paul trailed.

“True self, my ass. Your true self is a bottle of Aquanet.”

Gene was starting to smirk. Paul elbowed him in the ribs.

“So you decided you were gonna use the talismans of Khyscz to make yourselves younger so you could fuck random girls. Christ. I knew you didn’t have any dignity, but—” Peter paused, unsure of how to even state the rest of his tirade. For once.

It was just too damn bizarre. They’d left that shit behind years ago. Decades ago. Their last real superhero stints had been in cancer wards, letting kids with lymphoma and leukemia jam with them from their beds and wheelchairs. Their first had been—well, they’d caught some burglars in the Bronx and Queens a couple of times, between band practice, before they were even signed to a record company. Once they’d started touring, they’d tried to keep the double lives up, and for awhile, it had worked to their advantage. People didn’t know whether seeing KISS on the street meant a concert was coming to town or a gang was about to get busted. And the merchandising…. Christ, what a frenzy. The public had eaten it up. Lunchboxes and the pinball machine had only been the beginning.

The biggest criminal they’d ever stopped was some amusement park tyrant, Abner Devereaux. Naturally, they’d turned it into a movie a year later. Hadn’t even been allowed to put most of their powers on display for fear of wrecking the sets and camera equipment. Paul couldn’t fire off any laser beams; Ace’s teleporting barely got a mention. Peter was lucky they didn’t try to trim his claws down. Even Gene’s fire-breathing had to be faked for the camera. He’d had to swill kerosene in his mouth and just spit at the torch like he was from the circus.

Really humiliating, looking back, but they hadn’t quite realized it. The movie had seemed like a natural next step. They were giving the fans what they wanted. A superhero group that could do anything, be anything. Role models. Rockstars. Sex symbols. Entrepreneurs. The four most recognizable faces in the world, faces of a corporation worth a hundred million. Not bad for 1978. Not Stark Industries levels, but not bad.

But the movie had started the blowback. No one under twelve even watched the damn thing. The press was coming out with hit pieces on the daily. Headlines like “Shilling Superheroes” and “Crimefighting Doesn’t Pay—But Capitalism Does” started dotting the supermarket stands. When they retreated back into making records, the bottom had already dropped out. KISS didn’t come off as superheroes or even musicians anymore, just a bunch of guys out for a quick buck. No amount of charity work—and certainly not a long stretch of tail-between-their-legs touring in Australia and Europe, where their superhero antics weren’t as big a part of their mystique—could’ve brought them back from that.

Peter had left KISS before things completely crashed. Been fired, more accurately. What that’d mean for the dwindling state of their superhero gig should’ve been obvious, but looking back, Peter couldn’t remember thinking about it or anyone even mentioning it when he’d left. Ace hadn’t talked about it when he quit the band a couple years later, either. KISS still performed with the outfits and makeup for awhile after. But the crimefighting was over. Any superhuman powers were done with. Gene ended up having to spit kerosene to breathe fire onstage for the rest of his career. The talismans just wouldn’t work without the four of them as some kind of unit.

Apparently, their current living arrangement counted as some kind of unit. Good enough for the talismans. And apparently, the talismans didn’t even care whether Paul and Gene were using them for the right reasons. Peter shoved his hands through his hair before slamming his palm against the table. True to form, Paul and Gene didn’t even blink. Gene, in fact, took it as an opportunity to continue.

“We thought it’d be a better sell to FER if we could offer them something a little more exciting than—”

“Than a bunch of old assholes.”

“More or less, yeah.” Paul rubbed at the star on his eye with a dollop of cold cream, carefully. “It’s not any kind of PR stunt. Just makes for better lays and healthier sperm.”

“We’ve had 53 successful pregnancies just over the last two months,” Gene offered. His phone buzzed, and he picked it up. “Make that 54.”

“54? Was that mine or yours?”

“Mine. That was, uh…” Gene scrolled up on his phone. “Tori Friedmann. Remember, the one with the tattoos right around her hips?”

“Gene, I didn’t see her anywhere near naked.”

“She had her hair dyed green. It was in ringlets.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah…” Paul trailed, before turning his attention back to Peter. “We’re really helping things out.”

“Helping things out?” Gene snorted. “Don’t be modest. We’ve got the best track record for pregnancies in the entire state of Connecticut. Eighty percent success rate after four sessions or less. Amazing.”

“Who’s supposed to be raising—” Peter started, but he was cut off almost immediately by a laugh.

“Seriously? The government’s paying the girls out the nose. Prenatal up through college. All we had to do was participate.” Gene shifted, pushed his washcloth into the jar of cold cream, and started wiping off his face. “Of course, FER pays the guys doing it, too, but it’s not our main motivation.”

“Why the hell aren’t you jacking it into a cup? What’s so wrong about artificial insemination? Is FER Catholic?”

“This world’s starved for the human touch. Sex drives are lower than the Dow right now.” Gene cleared his throat, tilted his head as if he were about to start on an interview-worthy set of sound bites. “Now, what we’re offering is only what KISS has always offered, an escape, a fantasy. But we sell it better than any fucking band before or since. We lift those girls up.”

“Yeah, I saw Paul lifting that girl up—” Peter started. Paul looked only a tinge embarrassed. “You could’ve been her grandfather, for Christ’s sake.”

“Hey, they know exactly who they’re getting with,” said Gene. “We aren’t pretending we’re a tribute band. And we cheer them up, Peter. Some of them haven’t slept with anyone in five years. Some of them haven’t touched anyone in five years. They forgot how to even be alive. We’re reminding them.”

“You’re selling your sperm, Gene, don’t act like it’s some grand gesture.” Peter paused. “Is Ace in on this, too?”

“I think Ace got in about four lays, but then he felt bad about it…”

“Because he’s got a conscience?”

“No, because he’s an alien. I mean, the girls kind of got off on it, I think, but…” Paul shrugged, finding a clean corner of his washcloth, patting away the traces of cold cream. “He thought Earth ought to be repopulated by regular humans.”

“He didn’t care about that when we were touring.” God knew how many girls Ace had knocked up with half-Jendellian spawn back in the seventies. His kid with Jeanette, Monique, hadn’t ever exhibited anything weird that Peter had seen, but then again, Ace was pretty good at keeping his own alien oddities under wraps. At least in public. Online tabloids and shit still said he was a normal guy from the Bronx that had just watched too much Star Trek in high school. If he hadn’t toured off and on with the guy for years, and if the remnants of his spaceship weren’t currently in their backyard, Peter might’ve believed it, too.

“Yeah, but when we were touring, the world wasn’t in an apocalypse.” Another corner of the washcloth and Paul was wiping off his eyeliner. “I dunno. I told him if they didn’t care, he shouldn’t, either. It’s not like his dick is any different.”

“He’ll change his mind. Probably.” Gene set down the washcloth, face reddish but bare. He looked so appallingly confident that Peter almost wanted to punch him. No, he did want to punch him. Clearly, the repopulation gig had been Gene’s idea. Paul was far too depressed these days to be such an opportunist on his own, and Ace… Ace, clearly, just had gone along with it. Neither of them had ever been half as desperate for a lay as Gene, either. Peter settled for pushing back his chair and leaning over the table, yanking Gene by both arms.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Pete—”

“Don’t you even remember what we were supposed to use the talismans for?”

“Sure. Saving the world.” Gene tugged his arms out of Peter’s grasp. Utterly unmoved. He didn’t even have to stand up in order to wrench him away. It just made Peter all the more incensed. The blitheness of it. Shit, Gene used to care. Paul used to care.

“Fucking girls for some government program isn’t saving the world!”

“Then what the hell do you suggest? We’re a little fucking limited with half the population gone.”

“Fixing this mess!”

“How?” Paul started to laugh. “If the Avengers aren’t touching it, what makes you think we should?”

“When did that stop us before, huh? We were there before they even existed!”

“Most of them,” Gene put in dryly. “Captain America’s old enough that he could’ve even fathered you, Pete.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Peter rattled off. “Fuck both of you. You’ve finally got a real opportunity here and you’re too damn sorry to take it.”

“A real opportunity? You’re telling us about opportunities?” Paul snorted. “I should’ve known all you’d do was bitch and whine as soon as you found out. Mr. Misery never did fucking retire. Can’t let anybody else be even a little happy—”

“You’re not happy, asshole!”

The sound of the backdoor swinging open swallowed up any other comments. Ace, standing there in a ratty screenprinted Betty Boop t-shirt and jeans, looking sweaty and vaguely perturbed.

“Y’know, contrary to popular belief, I’m still not deaf.”

Peter spun around to face him.

“Ace! You knew what these bastards were doing this whole time and you didn’t tell me!”

Ace raised his palm in what might’ve been surrender, then shut the door behind him. He didn’t cross over to the dining room where the others were seated, surprisingly—just headed straight for the kitchen.

“Sit down, Pete. ’M gonna get us some water.”

Peter sat down. He wasn’t mollified, not in the slightest, but he stayed quiet until Ace returned, four water bottles in hand. Gene and Paul didn’t say anything, either. The only real sound was Paul screwing the lid back on the jar of cold cream.

Ace pushed a water bottle towards each of them before sitting down next to Peter. Peter eyed him warily. It felt like a band meeting, the tension thick as concrete, only for once, they weren’t arguing over solos or setlists. And Bill Aucoin, of course, wasn’t there to make sure they shook hands and shared a joint by the end. Not quite the kind of nostalgia Peter craved.

“Okay, so,” Ace started, conversationally, “I get why you’re pissed off, man.”

“You should’ve told me—”

“I tried! I told you Paul got laid! But you didn’t wanna hear anymore.”

“That’s because I thought he was back to fucking around with Gene!”

“I did not—" Paul’s face was going from pallid to pink to red at an alarming rate. Beside him, Gene was rubbing his forehead with a wince. “Look, let’s just address the issue at hand.”

“You’re right,” Peter snapped back. “Ace, listen. What they’re doing’s fucked-up.”

“Peter, we’re all still in kind of a bad place right now, I dunno if it’s the time to—”

“It’s not the time to be trying to repopulate like—like tigers in the zoo.” Peter exhaled. “Not when we could be doing a lot more. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you assholes.”

Ace unscrewed Peter’s water bottle before opening his own. He took a long swallow, then let out a sigh.

“Just wait. I’ll be getting us to Jendell in another three months, easy. Then we won’t have to worry about any of this shit.”

“That’s been your answer the last five years, Ace! You can’t fix your ship! We all know we’re not getting off this planet!”

“I mean it this time! I really got it cracked. Three months or less.” Ace took another swallow of water. “It’ll be great. My ma—aw, man, you’ll love her. She’s great. I tried sending her our records once we got big, I still had this little portable, y’know, for shipping off small stuff, don’t know if she ever got it…”

“Still having family must be great, Ace.”

Ace flinched visibly.

“I haven’t seen her in fifty years, man, I don’t know for sure. We’re all in the same boat there.”

“We’re fucking not, Ace. You just proved it.” Peter swallowed thickly. It was a lower blow than he’d meant to take. But he couldn’t help it. Fifty-fifty shot, and they’d all managed to lose. All that grief the sickest, saddest equalizer. Gigi had beaten cancer. Monique had been clean for a couple years now. Gene’s kids had careers… Paul’s youngest three weren’t out of elementary school. All of them a million times more deserving of being alive than they were. Peter’s gut roiled, and he grabbed his water bottle, forcing several gulps down just to quell the lump in his throat. He still had to take a few more breaths before he was half-positive his voice wouldn’t quaver too much, and by then, Paul had already begun talking again.

“Okay, okay. Let’s say we wanted to do something. Where would we even start? What would we even be fighting against?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly. Now—”

“I know where we’d start.”

Pete’s gaze shot over to Gene. He couldn’t keep the bare, hopeful note out of his voice.

“Where?”

“Avengers headquarters. That or Stark’s place.” At Paul’s indignant glance, Gene shrugged. “What, it’s obvious. And it’s only a hypothetical. For all we know, they could be working on the solution right now.”

“They’re not doing a damn thing,” Paul insisted.

“How do we know that, though?” Ace said it slowly. “I mean, really. They haven’t given everything up. The Hulk’s still around… you get reports of some of the other guys sometimes, taking down drug cartels, that sort of thing…”

“So it’s worth a shot!”

“Peter, c’mon, you’re saying we should just waltz right in to their place and tell them what, exactly? ‘Hi, we’re KISS. We haven’t done anything heroic in forty years, but—’”

“I wouldn’t say we haven’t done anything heroic in forty years. We all got married.”

“You know what I mean, Gene.” Paul paused. “You really think they’re gonna buy that? You really think they won’t laugh in our faces?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Paul let out a long sigh and gave Gene a look of utter betrayal Peter hadn’t fully witnessed since the disastrous Reunion Tour about twenty years back. The I-kept-this-band-alive look. The why-don’t-you-ever-listen-to-me look. The I-told-you-KISS-condoms-were-a-bad-idea look. Gene just shook his head in return.

“It’s worth a shot. The worst they could say is no.” Gene took a swig of water. “And if they do, so what? My ego can take it. We can go back to helping with repopulation efforts here in New Haven.” He paused. “Actually, we could probably introduce the Avengers to the program, I’m sure the country could use some super-sperm to—”

“God, no.”

Ace started laughing. Really laughing, that awful, unsettling, but infectious cackle that used to embarrass the rest of them during interviews. Peter caught sight of Gene’s lips twitching and then he lost it himself. Totally helpless. Paul had his hand over his mouth, but Peter was pretty sure he was laughing behind it.

It had been so long since they’d found anything funny. So long since they’d had any kind of idea in mind beyond surviving from day to day. Sure, Paul wasn’t sold on it, and Peter wasn’t sure if Ace was, either, not exactly, but—they were getting there. There was energy there, buzzing through his veins, making him feel fidgety and anxious and alive, really alive, for the first time in five years. He knew it was the same for the others. All the four-who-are-one superhero mysticism they’d tried to blow off as bullshit as tempers had flared in the studio and onstage and in their hotel rooms—shit, there was something to it. There had to have been or they wouldn’t still be together now.

“All right, fine, we won’t advertise it,” Gene finally said, once the laughter had died down. “If they went on the market, we’d probably be out of luck. But if we head to Manhattan… that’ll take us, what, couple hours if we drive, depending on how many highways they’ve finally cleaned up…”

“I’m not driving,” Peter said flatly.

“We could teleport,” Ace offered. “If you got better coordinates than just Manhattan, anyway.”

“Right, yeah, we could—” Gene considered. “Actually, I think we might be better off heading to Stark’s directly.”

“Why?”

“Because he holds the purse strings. And because he’s the one person out of all of them I’ve actually spoken to.” Gene was nodding to himself. “I don’t think he lives in the city anymore, but I’m sure we can—"

“I didn’t agree to any of this.”

“Paul, c’mon. It’s not hurting anything.”

“It’s been forty years. We’re gonna be laughed out of town.”

“Yeah, but we’ve been laughed out of town since we started. ’S fine.” Ace looked over at Paul, mouth uncharacteristically pursed, on the verge of dissolving into giggles again. Peter could tell by the way Ace had his hand cupped around his thigh, underneath the table. He couldn’t remember the last time Ace had done that to him. Peter reached out to put his hand on top of Ace’s, absently tapping against the rings. Ace crooked a slow smile, and half-spoke, half-warbled, “Y’know, we’ve got nothing to lose…”

“That song was about anal, not stomping up to the Avengers headquarters asking for a job application.”

“Same difference. Well, one’s a little sexier.”

“This isn’t a joke, Ace. It’s just stupid.” Paul exhaled, staring at each of them in turn before shaking his head. “God, why the hell am I even still entertaining this shit?”

He started to get up, only for Gene to grab his arm before he’d done much more than push his chair back. Paul sat back down, glare fixed on his face.

“Paul, c’mon. We can’t do this without you.” Gene hadn’t let go of his arm yet, but Paul wasn’t relaxing into the touch. “What’s the real issue here? Are you that afraid of being turned down?”

“Let go of me,” Paul rattled off impatiently, brushing at Gene’s arm. “And no, I’m not. I—fuck, I can’t—”

“Can’t what?”

“What if you’re wrong? What if they aren’t trying? What if busting up drug cartels is all the Avengers are good for these days, too?” Paul tried to laugh but couldn’t seem to manage it, coughing, then draining the rest of his bottled water. “Nothing to lose—like hell we have nothing to lose. If we go over there, and we find out this world really is all we have left, no… no do-overs, no—saving anybody, no bringing anyone back… then that’s it. We’re done. We’ve got nothing anymore. Not even hope.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Peter watched as Gene reached over again, clasping Paul’s wrist before, almost hesitantly, taking his hand. Paul winced, but didn’t pull back. “We’ve got something left. We’re KISS. We’re family.”

“Gene—”

“And that’s not going to change, all right? Don’t get me wrong. It’ll hurt like hell if they say there’s nothing that can be done.” Gene paused. “But that doesn’t make it true. Look, whatever life ever had in store, we’ve kept going. We’ll keep going regardless.”

Paul didn’t say anything for awhile. Long enough that Ace had stopped just resting his hand on Peter’s thigh and started actively trying to pick the lint off his slacks instead. Peter batted his hand away, then, before Paul finally spoke back up.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’m in, I’ll do it.” Gene was still holding Paul’s hand. Neither had let go yet. “But don’t get too excited. And don’t think we’re just gonna pop over there tomorrow.” Paul finally tugged his hand away, but not until after a brief squeeze.

“We’re not? Oh, c’mon, Paulie, if I get some coordinates, I know I can teleport us there!”

“Because,” Paul said, grinning almost wolfishly, “we’re gonna train first.”

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #peter criss #paul stanley #gene simmons #ace frehley

22 notes · View notes

kayetypeswords · 5 years

Text

I've been on tumblr for nearly 12 years. Here are nearly 12 important things I've seen repeat themselves on a loop on this hellsite since 2007:

1. If you have opinions, or create your own content, and you share it to your own blog, there will be people both confused and infuriated that you used this medium for tumble blogging and not settling yourself in your outsourced meme production line chair like a Good Boy

2. What Celebrity Figure Are We Ruining For No Reason This Week?

3. We Are All Gay Here. Being a straight is illegal. If you are reading this as a straight, your tears are warranted but will get you nothing. Have fun on Facebook.

4. Digging neat graves for Nazi sympathizers and watching them do a barrel roll into the hole.

5. Digging neat graves for TERFS and watching them do a barrel roll into the hole.

6. Identity Police On Patrol 24/7 waiting just behind the tree line to "politely ask that any queer identified persons refer to it as q-slur around them."

7. Queer people consistently having to say "No. Fuck you very much for asking, tho."

8. "I'm an upplerclass white person with depression and I'm seeking validation for not having paid a bill in 96 years and for having murdered all my plants and not having showered since I was 14, 91 years ago."

Tumblr: *validates*

"I'm a young poor woman of color seeking validation. I just started my second job on top of having college full time and I'm drowning and both my school work and my actual work are suffering and I feel like I'm failing my family, as I'm a first gen at college. But this is just too much, these 18 hour days are murdering me. My mental illness is taunting me mercilessly. But I am poor and just can't quit either job to focus on the college not paying me to be there."

tumblr: *shames and lectures about self care*

9. "I AM A WOMAN AND I HAD A DISEASE FOR 36 YEARS. I WENT TO THE DOCTOR 89 TIMES A DAY, AND THEY DIAGNOSED ME WITH CRAZY VAGINA DISEASE EVERY TIME. TURNS OUT I HAVE THIS BIG BAD DISEASE IN AN OBNOXIOUSLY OBVIOUS WAY AND I HAVE HAD IT MY WHOLE LIFE. WHY WAS I IGNORED SO LONG?"

Men of tumblr: "where's the receipts?"

Millions of women and afabs of tumblr: *hands over 30,000,000 CVS lengthed receipts*

Men of tumblr: *pretends to still be waiting for receipts, as the receipts start flying around their living rooms, attacking them, like they're trying to get Harry Potter his Hogwarts acceptance letter*

9. Y'all Need Self Care, so Here's A Super Inaccessible Listicle Filled With Self Care Shit Most of You Either Can't Afford or Are From Too Small a Rural Town for it To Be Available/Safe Anywhere Near You

11. "Like... have you ever tried not being poor?"

11.5. "You know what would be rad? Death."

#happy birthday to me joining tumblr #what a mistake #I made a list of the repeated trends I am used to seeing circle this site #shit post #shit posting #text post #textpost #jokes #tumblr jokes #funny #i find it funny #humor

6 notes · View notes

heisenbergchronicles · 6 years

Photo

APPRECIATION & INTERVIEW

Better Call Saul episode posters by Matt Talbot After 4 nearly years, I thought it was time to catch up with Matt Talbot about his Better Call Saul poster project. The last time we talked during Season 1, Matt was deep in the hustle of making his name as an illustrator: juggling a full-time job, freelance projects, as well as band. Finding time for personal projects like this one can be a significant challenge. (Not to mention surviving the death of your tools: During Season 1 his Mac laptop died, and this season, his Wacom tablet bit the bullet). But despite these challenges, the 43-year-old New Hampshire native has persevered to create a clever and thoughtful series of episode posters that has garnered considerable attention, and brought with it new high-profile clients and art exhibitions.

First, congratulations on all of your success and recognition with this series of posters. It’s well-deserved. What’s been the most gratifying feedback you’ve received? Thank you! Every interaction I’ve had with anyone from the show has delighted me. I've been surprised by all of the cast and crew members who have said nice things – every note I’ve gotten has meant a lot to me. That being said, Michael McKean randomly tweeting at me that he has my poster for Chicanery hanging in his home blew my mind. I was eating dinner when my phone showed the notification and I literally jumped up from the table. I’ve been a fan of Michael’s since I saw Spinal Tap in the ‘80s and never in a million years would I have guessed I’d make something he valued enough to hang in his home.

Tell me about your contributions to Gallery1988 exhibitions. How does that process work? It's a pretty simple process. They invite me to be part of a show, and I make something to send them. I’m very excited for the opportunity to show there, and I feel like it’s a milestone in my art-making career.

Across the 4 seasons, which BCS posters are your favorites? Which one are you most proud of? I’m particularly fond of Rebecca, Rico, Marco, Switch, Sunk Costs and Something Beautiful. Oh man, it's hard for me to evaluate my own stuff. I tend to like the posters where I find a way to get a different take on something they did in the episode. I would say that “Sunk Costs” is also one of my favorites because I did something differently than how they shot it, and because Mike is so recognizable even from the back. I was also pleased with “Off Brand” because it was when I finally figured out how to draw Bob Odenkirk.

How has your process for creating these posters evolved over 4 seasons? When I started this project I had a vague idea that I would focus on scenes rather than portraits or likenesses, but that didn’t even last half a season! The characters were too good not to include. In that way, the posters have evolved in my willingness to draw characters, and also, hopefully, my ability to draw them.

My process is now something like: Watch the show on Monday; think about it on Tuesday, figure out what stood out to me and do a thumbnail sketch or two; draw it on Wednesday night; post it Thursday afternoon. I’m a bit faster at drawing these now compared to when I started. And I’m a bit more decisive on choosing which subject matter to depict.

There have been quite a few changes on the visual side of Better Call Saul over the last 2 seasons. New directors (Minkie Spiro, Daniel Sackheim, and Andrew Stanton), a new cinematographer Marshall Adams, even new cameras. What are your thoughts on how the show’s visual grammar has evolved? Has any of this impacted your posters from Seasons 3 & 4? I try not to just redraw literal scenes from the show, and I don’t need to tell you that they shoot the show in an incredibly beautiful way. I mean, they always, always, pick the best angle, the best shot to capture something. For that reason, it’s sometimes hard to to come up with another take on a moment from the show.

That being said, the visual style hasn’t really impacted my posters as much as the evolving subject matter has. The show, I think, is substantially darker than it was in the early going. It was easier to depict Jimmy’s hi-jinx in the first couple seasons. But with Chuck’s deteriorating mental state, the cartel stuff, Mike going deeper into Fring’s world and of course, Jimmy’s loosening sense of morals, the funny moments are harder to spot. That’s lead me to some more somber layouts and color choices.

We didn’t discuss this in our first interview. Which typeface are you using in your posters, or is this custom typography? The main logo and episode titles are set in Sign Painter, from the excellent House Industries.

The Heisenverse is known for it’s color theory and use of color. How has that impacted your color choices in these posters? I’ve kind of adhered to their blue=good/red=bad symbolism, but I also try to balance out colors between episodes and not repeat myself in sequential posters.

Many of your posters (especially ones this season) use a monochromatic, or simple palette of 1-2 colors. Tell me more about why you chose that approach. Is this a signature of your style? I’ve seen this approach in a lot of your work. You know, in the early seasons, I was trying to use simpler color palettes, but I wasn’t very disciplined and I got away from that. I’m trying to stick to a more consistent style in season 4. It is a conscious decision. I also feel like with the week-to-week nature of this project, it helps quickly set apart each poster. And, I really do love limited color palettes. Giving myself color constraints helps me figure out different ways to solve layout problems.

I’ve heard other illustrators say that Bob Odenkirk’s facial features are tricky to capture. Do you share that sentiment? Which characters are more challenging to illustrate? I do agree with that. I had a really hard time with him at first. I kind of think I have a better handle on it now, but I’m always trying to get better. I feel like if you can get his mouth right, it goes a long way.

I found Hector hard to capture both times I drew him. Mike, on the other hand, is just pure fun to draw. Jonathan Banks is so distinctive and iconic.

What’s been the most difficult poster thus far? Why was it challenging? Maybe it’s because a lot of time has gone by, but I can't think of one that stands out as having been really difficult.

Francesco Francavilla did alternate posters for some of his Breaking Bad posters. Inevitably, when artists look back at their work, they consider revising or redoing it because of a variety of reasons – their point of view has changed, their skill/style has evolved, or maybe they were never truly content with the final product. Looking back at 4 seasons worth of posters, are there any that make you want to scratch the revision itch? Yeah, more than I would care to admit. I would really like another crack at Amarillo. I know I could do a better job and that drawing is just super flat. In season two, I decided to to experiment with style and I kind of wish I hadn't. I like Cobbler, but I wish I had drawn it in my normal style. I would redraw Nailed for sure. Oh man, if I start going down this road it's not going to end well, so I'll just stop.

You mentioned earlier this season you were excited to draw Track Suit Jimmy. Who or what haven’t you drawn, that you are eager to illustrate? Howard! It bums me out to no end that I haven't drawn him, but it just hasn't worked out. And I need to include Kim more. It's kind of criminal that her face only appeared for the first time in a poster this season.

What’s your opinion of Season 4? Tell me about your favorites – episode, scene, character. I think season 4 is brilliant so far. The Kim/Jimmy relationship has deepened so much this season, and feels so real, but full of inevitable heartache. Oh, the flash-forward to Breaking Bad’s timeline was amazing. Mike doing his audit in the Madrigal warehouse. Really, anything Michael Mando does on screen. It's hard to pick. I so enjoy the deliberate pace of this show.

Where’s your favorite place to discuss the show? I honestly don’t talk about it too much online, though I lurk in a few places and read a lot. I actually discuss it mostly with my wife!

I know you get this question a lot, so let’s cover it here so folks understand: Do you have plans to sell any of this work online? I really appreciate that people like it enough to want to buy it or hang it, but I don't plan to sell the Better Call Saul posters online. I’m doing this for fun, not to make a buck off the show, and I don’t own the rights to sell it anyway.

What’s next for Matt? Do you have any other poster or illustration projects in the works? Is you band performing soon? I have several more pieces for Gallery1988 shows coming up. I’m pulling together an art show at a local brewery for whom I design all of their labels and stuff. I’m patiently waiting for a t-shirt I designed for one of my all-time favorite movies to be announced. And for the past several Octobers, I spent the month drawing a horror poster per day. I’m not sure if logistically I can do that again this year, but I’ll probably fit at least a few in. We’ll see how it goes. Sadly, with all of my illustration work, I haven’t had any time for music making, but someday I hope to get back to that!

Follow Matt: Web site / Tumblr / Twitter / Dribbble / Instagram / PosterSpy

– Interview by Shayne Bowman, Heisenberg Chronicles

#better call saul #artist interview #matt talbot #mine #heisenberg chronicles #illustration #fan art #posters #favorites #mattrobot #bcs season 4 #gallery1988 #g1988 #house industries #sign painter

90 notes · View notes

cindylouwho-2 · 5 years

Text