#like otherwise I’m ignoring your tags or I’m sharing them because I like them

[haarrrys]

bo peep 🦢

wc - 1.1K

🏷️ tags - boyfriend!harry, fem!reader, long distance relationship, fluff, slight angst if you squint.

pairings - boyfriend!harry & fem!reader 🕰️🎧

summary - y/n is hiding something, or someone, from harry, who is on the other side of the world.

(a/n) no spellcheck, so i apologize in advance! i wrote this in like five mins so it’s kinda.. blah but I wanted to share it :)

“so.. I did a thing.” is the first thing y/n says to him after accepting his facetime.

“oh no..” harry chuckles, his eyes furrowing in confusion, and a little worry.

“please don’t be mad.”

“well.. love, that depends on what it is..” harry says, his once playful mood beginning to diminish. what if it’s something serious?

“it’s something that could change our relationship forever.” y/n says, a blank face staring back at harry through the screen. uncomfortable chills run down his body, and he wishes he wasn’t miles away from her.

“is this something we should be discussing over facetime then..?” harry sighs, a frown taking over his features. he was excited to call y/n after his show, having missed her the whole day, but now this uncertainty is fucking up his day.

“i better just show you now..i think it would be better this way.” y/n explains, shuffling heard from her end. from the background, he can tell y/n is still in their “shared” bedroom in england. (it’s harry’s, but he likes to call it’s theirs) for some reason, this eases his anxiety slightly.

“come here, it’s okay.” he hears y/n whisper.

“did you adopt a baby or summat? why are you cooing..” harry starts, but his words become quiet as the smallest little white kitten enters the frame.

it’s silent for a moment, until the little thing meows, and harry barks out a laugh that startles the kitten.

“oh god, love— i thought— I thought this was something serious!” he says in between laughs, attempting to catch his breath.

y/n pretends to be offended, but the smile she fights off her face says otherwise. “oi! this is very serious. could make or break our relationship, because im not returning her.” she explains, making harry smile at her cuteness.

“i thought we agreed no pets? for now atleast..” harry says. since he’s always touring, traveling, moving, adopting a pet just wouldn’t fit into that lifestyle. they’d have to get pet sitters, who more often than not would be spending more time with the kitten than them.

“i know but.. it’s so lonely here. i need a companion. when me and y’mum visited the animal shelter and i saw this sweet little angel.. I couldn’t leave her there. anne said she kinda looks like you too.”

harry chuckles, “should’ve known my mum had something to do with this. crazy cat lady.”

“don’t call your mother that.” she hisses, although knowing, there is some truth to his words.

harry ignores her comment, “im sorry that you feel lonely. long distance is..hard. but are you sure about this? when you join me on tour it’s gonna be difficult with a kitten.”

“im sure. ill take her everywhere if i have to, she’s the sweetest, calmest girlie ever.”

“and it’s okay, i knew what i was getting myself into when we started dating.”

harry frowns at that. “i feel like a shit boyfriend.” he admits, sighing. y/n frowns back, setting the kitten down on harry’s side of the bed, which he envy’s for a split second.

“your an amazing boyfriend harry. so don’t say that.”

“i feel like i’m neglecting you— i should be with you.”

y/n shakes her head,”y’not. long distance isn’t rare y’know? you love touring, it makes you happy, I’m not upset. sure it gets..lonely, but that’s just part of being miles apart right? would be weird if I didn’t get lonely.. the love of my life is across the world!” she laughs.

harry smiles, making no attempt to cover the blush that tints his cheeks. for the first time in a relationship, he feels theirs a mutual bond of just..love, and needing eachother.

“you make me happy too, more than touring i reckon.” he says, making her pout dramatically through the screen. “don’t make me cry in front of bo peep haz.” she sniffs.

“bo peep? as in… from toy story? you named the kitten bo peep?” harry says, a serious look on his face before he breaks into laughter.

“wha? it’s a good name! i call her bo for short. don’t laugh at it! and also, not just from toy story..it’s a nursery rhyme too.” she says, acting offended.

“sorry love, it’s not a bad name. i kinda love it. bo.” he tries.

y/n smiles, nodding, before she yawns.

“tired babe?” harry asks, remembering it’s pretty early for her right now. it’s ‘twelve am’ for him.. so it’s like, five or six am for her.

“mhmh..couldn’t fall asleep with this little one.. feel like a new parent. im scared something will happen to her. also, wanted to hear your voice.” she says, yawning again at the end of her sentence.

harry coos, “imagine when we have babies, you’re gonna be a wreck.” he laughs. the topic isn’t foreign, or uncomfortable for them. in the two years they’ve been together, talking about babies and marriage is something that always comes up in their conversations, especially late night ones.

in past relationships, talking about children so early on would frighten harry, but with her.. it just seems so normal. he can talk about their nonexistent babies and actually picture their family; curly brown haired babies with harrys green eyes but their mothers face.

“me? y’know your gonna be much worse. i can already see you freaking out.” she tiredly laughs, images of harry frightened when her water breaks, or when their baby takes a small little tumble that wouldn’t leave more than just a tiny scratch.

harry laughs, “your not completely wrong.”

“is bo asleep?” harry asks, watching y/n’s eyes shoot awake. he feels bad, she almost succumbed to her much needed slumber, but harry wasn’t done talking to her.

“umm,” she says, sitting up to look a bo, who is nuzzled comfortably into harrys pillow, soft meows involuntarily leaving her.

“look at her.” y/n coos, moving the camera so harry can see bo.

“awhh, she’s adorable. i can’t wait to meet her. will you send me photos?” harry says. as soon as he’s up tomorrow, he’s gonna show all the crew members their newest addition.

“mhmm.. i already have a photo album for her.”

her words are lazier, indicating harry should let her sleep now, much to his dissatisfaction.

“alright baby, it’s been good talking to you, but I think you need to sleep now.” harry smiles, causing y/n to groan, “m’sorry i couldn’t talk long..will you stay on the phone?”

harry shakes his head, “think we both know that only ends with me talking off y’ear love. you can call me when you wake up.” he says.

y/n frowns, but nods. “g’night harry, i love you. bo loves you.”

“night, love you both, sending my kisses.” he says, finally signing off when y/n blows him a kiss.

thank you so much for reading! ☕️ 🤍

requests are always open!

-fic rec masterlist-

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #boyfriend!harry #harry kitten #harry fanfiction #harry x reader #harrys house #harrystylesfluff #harry styles drabble #harry styles fic #one direction fanfiction #harry styles concept #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fanfic

[myfictionaldreams]

hi! i loved pain over pleasure! especially the part where there’s sexual interactions between the three men other than just focusing on the reader. i’d like to request something slightly similar. reader gets punished by watching sirius suck remus and r can’t do anything than just sit and watch. then james walks in and instead of going to reader to save her from moony’s punishment (like he usually does) he joins the other two. it’s totally okay if you don’t go through with this. i just really loved pain over pleasure. thanks!!!!

Horny Little Devil // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request and for showing your love with Pain Over Pleasure!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, bdsm, brat reader, punishment, teasing, edging, restraints, begging, deepthroat/oral sex, cum swallowing, cum sharing, anal sex, vibrators, overstimulation, subspace, pet names, being ignored, anxiety not beta read

Words:3.3 k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Needy was the word you would use to describe your feelings today. Sirius on the other hand would describe you as a horny little devil, but could he truly blame you? Dating the three Marauders meant that you were almost always attached to one of them whether it be holding hands, in their laps in front of the fire or on your knees with their cock in your mouth. However this morning, the three of them had been rushing around to attend lessons that they’d forgotten about their poor needy girlfriend so really…could Sirius blame you for wanting to be with them?

Maybe you were being a little full-on with your neediness, instead of whispering and asking nicely to see Sirius, grabbing him by his collar and pushing him into a spare room to suck him off. Sirius only chuckled in a condescending tone, tugging on your hair to snap your attention up to him, your bottom lip sticking out with pretend sadness as he stopped your attempts to undo his belts.

“Stop being such a brat and listen to me, otherwise you aren’t going to get what you want, Darling”.

You sat back on your heels, looking up at him with wide eyes, “You haven’t been giving me what I want, that’s the issue!”

Sirius’ eyes darkened and you knew that sassing back to him maybe wasn’t the best idea so you quickly shut your mouth, a move that seemed to please him as the corner of his lip tipped up into a smirk, his shoulder-length hair falling to shadow half of his face. “I was tempted to let you carry on if you didn’t continue with that smart mouth of yours and anyway, we don’t have time, we’ll probably be late to class now because of this interruption so well done Sweetheart. Now, you’re on your last chance, any more bratty behaviour and you’ll be punished”.

You shrunk away from him, losing your confidence and beginning to stare at the floor, realising your mistake and not wishing to be punished, but you just wanted to feel them. Sirius let go of your hair and tapped a finger under your chin, tilting your face back up so you were looking at him once more, his sleek eyebrow raised in question, “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry Sirius”.

Sirius nodded, holding a hand out which you took and he helped you to stand, brushing the dust from your knees and moved back towards the door but he held you back for one second with a gentle hand on your arm. You looked up at him with a confused expression but soon sighed as he leaned down to peck your lips, lingering for a second before pulling back. “Sorry it’s been such a rush this morning, I promise later we’ll look after you. Just listen to us, and we can all get what we want, ok?”

You agreed with a grin, capturing his lips one more time before he held the door open for you.

Your self-restraint lasted for a mind-blowing 25 minutes. This one really wasn’t your fault though as Remus had decided it was a good idea to rest his strong hand against your thigh, under your skirt, his hot palm directly against your skin. The tallest marauder knew exactly what the touch would do and didn’t remove it even as you turned into a dribbling mess, hugging his arm closer to your body and refusing to do the work because you were so distracted.

“My love, we have an exam at the end of the week, you need to take notes”, Remus whispered against the top of your head, but you ignored him, holding him closer, trying to push his hand higher up your thigh. However, he instead squeezed the muscle, “I know you’re needy right now but need to do your work”, Remus continued to encourage.

“Is someone being a brat again?” Sirius asked from behind as he leaned over his desk towards you and Remus.

Remus kept his voice low as he asked, “Again? She’s been a brat already today?”

“Yeah, we had a little run-in, in the spare classroom on the way here, didn’t we Sweetheart?” Sirius whispered in response. You tried not to whine as your grip relaxed, realising that you’d been caught and there was one thing that Remus and Sirius did not forget was that they always kept to their word.

“Mr Black, is there a problem over there?”, Professor McGonagall’s voice interrupted the quiet conversation.

“No Professor”, Sirius replied cooly, sitting back in his chair.

Remus continued writing for a couple of seconds before saying under his breath, “We’ll talk about this later”.

Only when later came, there was no talking involved. After watching James practice quidditch for an hour or so, Sirius suggested to you and Remus about going to the shrieking shack for some alone time whilst James finished, which you were more than happy to agree to, practically dragging both men by their hands in the direction of the decrepit building.

However, once there, you were stripped of your clothes and tied to the head of the bed with your wrists attached to the posts with both men’s ties and your legs were spread, exposing your soaked pussy.

“Do you remember our earlier conversation?”, Sirius asked, stroking a teasing hand up your inner thigh, already seeing the evidence of arousal with how wet you were.

“Ye-Yes”, you admitted, breathing quickly with increasing anxiety.

“So you know why we are doing this?”, he continued, making sure you had clarification as to why you were being tied up. They always made sure to do this, even when you were misbehaving the most to get to this point, you had to understand why the punishment was taking place and that your safewords were always there to use if needed. It all added to the overall experience and even though there was nothing you wanted more than to be touched and caressed by any of your boyfriends, you trusted them above anyone else and would continue to go through the punishment for this reason.

So after you’d explained why this was happening and reiterated at this could stop at any moment if you wished.

Sirius seemed happy with your answers and glanced over his shoulder at Remus who was sitting in a chair next to the bed, his legs spread wide and a noticeable bulge in his trousers. The man smiled, his scars stretching with the movement as he reached into his pocket and pulled out one of your favourite toys: your rose gold bullet vibrator, a present from James for Valentine's Day. Waving his wand, the vibrator magically floated through the air, only stopping mid-air when the cool metal touched your clit.

Sirius then placed your panties into your mouth to stop you from begging and climbed off of the bed and you had to watch as he approached Remus, his long hair framing his face as he leant down to make out of the other man. From this angle, you could only see the back of Sirius as he leaned over, but you could hear it all, the noises of their lips, the gasps and moans.

Your wrists stung slightly as you tested the hold, tugging on the ties that held you, hoping that maybe one of them would be loosened enough that you could pull free but they only tightened and you stopped your wasted efforts. Collapsing back against the headboard, you tried to calm yourself down but your body felt like it was on fire, sweat already coating it, eyes burning as you didn’t want to blink and miss a single moment of the teasing that was happening.

Even though there was nothing more you wanted at that moment than to be untied and join in with Sirius and Remus, the sight of them touching, and pleasuring one another was something you would store at the back of your mind for days you wanted to make yourself feel better. It was so erotic and hot that your pussy was twitching and clenching around nothing, juices dripping down your perineum, with the destination to soak the sheets.

Sirius dropped to his knees, settling in comfortably before swiftly undoing Remus’ belt, button and zipper and opening the material up, giving him room to reach into the hole of his checkered underwear and expose his throbbing member. As Sirius was on his knees, you were able to see Remus’ impressive cock, standing thick and proud, veins pulsing and ready to be touched.

You must have audibly made a noise as Remus suddenly looked up at you, a look of surprise on his face as he had momentarily forgotten that you were even in the room but then he rolled his wand in between his fingers and smirked. Sirius raised further on his knees, one hand resting against Remus’ thigh and the other holding the base of his cock and finally gave one solid lick up the entire length.

The moment Sirius’ wet tongue touched Remus’ cock, the wand in his hand flicked slightly, magically turning on the vibrator that still floated against your bundle of nerves. You groaned at the sensation, the buzz light and the pressure weren’t enough to drive you crazy just yet but you knew that he was just warming you up, even though you were already thoroughly aroused.

Remus kept his wand pointed towards you, controlling the vibrator, but his other hand was holding back Sirius’ hair, watching as he was hungrily sucking off. It was one thing Sirius prided himself in was the lack of gag reflex he had, being able to take the entire length of Remus, something you could never do and envied the Gryffindor for.

You tried to beg around your panties but all that could be heard was muffled cries, the material making your mouth incredibly dry so you tried to look sadly at Remus, your eyes sad and lower lip trembling as your hips rolled to try and push harder against the floating metal object, wishing to feel more.

Sirius’s head bobbed up and down quickly, his cheeks sucking and causing slurping noises that felt so good to Remus, his shaft throbbing with the movements. “Feel so good when you do that Padfoot, just like that”, Remus encouraged, letting his eyes drop close. “Do you think we should let our little pup join us?” Remus asked, still lost in the pleasure.

Sirius pulled off with an audible pop, a grin spreading across his face - not that you could see from your position - and responded with a simple: “Nope”, before swallowing Remus’ cock again.

Remus bite his lip at the sensation and opened his eyes as he flicked his wand again, the vibrations increasing tenfold, completely overwhelming your entire pussy, feeling them deep in your abdomen causing you to scream out in euphoria. Your body jolted at the pleasure, hips bucking wildly, pussy clenching, wishing it was full with fingers or a cock. Not that you truly were fussy at that moment as your orgasm built swiftly, feeling like a cord tightening in your abdomen, the walls of your cunt squeezing together, you were so close, still watching Sirius pleasure Remus, who had now opened his eyes and was watching you closely, assessing when you were just…about…to … cum.

And then he magiced the vibrator away from your body and your peaked fluttered away to nothingness, and now it truly dawned on you what sort of punishment they were giving you: edging. This was one of your least favourite punishments, especially added to the fact that you had to watch your boyfriends find their own pleasures.

Your thighs were trembling as you cried out, head dropping against your shoulder as you tried to regain some composure but then the vibrator was back on the low setting and pressing against your clit.

Your mewling begs were cut off however as James walked in, still wearing his quidditch uniform and a small sly smile on his face as he took in the sight of you tied to the bed, being pleasured by the sex toy and Remus being blown by Sirius on a chair.

“I could hear her from outside”, he admitted towards Remus before heading towards the bed, sitting at the edge near you. “Poor baby, you look so desperate, do you want some help?”, he cooed, stroking a hand up your inner thighs.

You nodded your head desperately, moaning wishing you could say yes yes yes. James thankfully was usually the one to give in to your begging, always undoing your restraints first, or helping you find your satisfaction so seeing him here now, you had no doubts that he would be doing the same for you now, after all, he hadn’t really seen you being a brat today.

All hope was lost however as he leaned forward, kissed your cheek and walked over to his boyfriends, dropping to his knees beside Sirius who had sifted to the side, giving him some room, and he began to pleasure Remus as well.

You groaned in frustration, realising you were very much stuck there and had to watch a sight you wanted to desperate be a part of.

Sirius and James licked up the length of Remus’ cock, both men then making out around the tip and you don’t know who groaned louder, you or Remus. Then whilst one man swallowed the thick length, the other would be sucking on the balls, working together to bring Remus to his own orgasm.

All the whilst, Remus kept up his torturous game of turning up the vibration level and just as you were about to cum, taking all the pleasure away.

3 times he had done this now, your juices were leaking onto the sheets below, your entire body trembling as you begged in your mind to please let you cum but of course, they didn’t let you. Your cunt was beginning to become puffy with stimulation and your throbbing clit was aching from the toy and you’d physically jolt and pull away as it always came back to hover against you. You were exhausted, your body drained of energy, your head feeling fuzzy and floaty as your needs drifted your thoughts into a space-like consciousness.

But you still continued to watch your boyfriends, hoping that the small act would mean your punishment would be over quicker because you were continuing to be good but it only made it harder to stay calm. You felt like you were just in the constant heightened state of being wanting to cum, hardly having much time to rest.

Remus suddenly shifted, his hips thrusting up harshly into the back of James’ mouth, his hand releasing its hold on Sirius’ hair to instead hold onto the back of James, keeping his head there, “Fuck Prongs, that’s it, stay right there”, he grunted, his eyes clenching closed as he came. James held still, taking the load to the back of his mouth and only pulling back when Remus sighed, his hand relaxing and letting go of the back of his head. “Did you swallow?” Remus asked with half-lidded eyes.

You couldn’t see but you knew that James had opened his mouth and revealed that he hadn’t swallowed because the next moment he was leaning over and heavily kissing Sirius, his cum coated tongue swiping against the other mans so they both had to swallow.

Remus groaned at the sight, tucking his half-soft, wet cock back into his trousers, trying to also catch his breath before glancing over the men towards you and you couldn’t hold back the sob anymore, not wishing to ruin the moment but seeing his attention had turned to you, it was almost too much.

You’d been edged against during his orgasmic scene, you were starting to become sore with belly aches with how much you’d been clenching your cunt and wanting to feel that high more than anything in the world.

Standing from his chair and rolling his shoulders, Remus stepped between his two boyfriends and finally came out to you, shimming behind your body so your back was against his chest. Your head lolled back against his shoulder as he nuzzled into your neck, reaching around your front so that he could pull out your panties from your mouth, the cool air drying your mouth further as you didn’t have the energy to close it.

“You’ve done so well sweetheart, do you want to cum? I’m gonna need you to tell me”, Remus whispered against the skin of your cheek, hands idly stroking circles against your stomach as he spooned around your body.

You were nodding tiredly before even talking, half aware that deep moans were coming from the other end of the bed from James being bent over and fucked by Sirius. “Please can I cum, Remus?” you asked, voice croaky from exhaustion and dryness.

“What do you think Padfoot?” Remus asked, looking up at Sirius who was slowing his pace, his hips rolling in and out, teasing James who was touching himself from his bent-over position.

Sirius blew a piece of hair from his face as he looked over at you, feeling somewhat sorry that you’d been edged for so long, “yeah go on then, seeing as she’s been such a good girl”.

You wanted to thank him profusely for his beautiful words but couldn’t muster up the energy to say them, instead completely allowing your body to relax back into Remus. Your boyfriend's long fingers delved over your mound, groaning at how wet and used you were.

“You’ve done so well for us pup, I’m not going to stop ok, you can cum for us”, Remus reassured as he pressed two fingers against your overstimulated clit, rolling it in his fingers, back and forth, the pressure firm and steady. With his other hand, he waved his wand again and all of your restraints untied so you were now fully collapsed against him, eyes closed, mouth open with a string of curses and whimpers escaping.

It didn’t take you long at all, still remaining at that heightened-edged sensation, Remus held you close as you finally came, body spasming as you were so overwhelmed with how to react and control yourself. “That’s it, let go for us, I’ve got you”, Remus continued to encourage and you were thankful for this, letting his voice ground you to the moment.

It felt so good to feel your cunt squeezing in quick bursts, juices coating the tops of your trembling thighs, and your entire body felt like it was burning as your nerves tried to comprehend the stimulation. Finally, as your orgasm began to subside, Remus’ fingers slowed to a stop and you fully collapsed into him, half away that he was moving your body so you were cuddled into his side, legs over his lap and head laying against his chest.

You were just about ready to have a little nap when you heard James gasping as Sirius pounded into him and you forced yourself to stay awake a little bit longer so you could watch both men fuck.

Remus could feel you were still awake as he kissed the top of your head, “pretty aren’t they”, he mumbled against you.

“Mmmm, so so pretty”, you agreed as you watched them both from their standing position, giving Sirius the better position to fuck James and reach around his body to wank his cock off as well, after a few more grunts, James was cumming hard, his seed spurting out in thick gloops across the bed.

Sirius pushed the quidditch player over the bed once more, the man now lying in his own cum and began mercilessly fucking his arse, chasing his own high, James moaned through the entire interaction before Sirius’ hips stilled with a hard yell and slap to James’ ass cheek.

Finally, after watching all three men reach their highs during that afternoon, you felt settled enough to fall asleep in Remus’ arms, knowing that when you woke up, you might be feeling a little bit subspacey but that was a problem for another time.

#poly!marauders #the marauders #james potter smut #sirius black smut #remus lupin smut #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #mine* #hp smut #hp oneshot

[grandmasterswife]

Secrets Above the Stairs

->Pairing: Childhood Bestfriend!Reader x Rafe

->Summary: Rafe comes to you distraught with a confession after helping his dad commit a crime.

->Warnings/Tags: Vulnerable!Rafe, mentions of doing coke lol, angst

->A/n: This is incredibly short, but I loved writing it. I am such a whore for comforting the vulnerable. Anyway, this takes place during Season 2, episode 2 when Ward kills Gavin bc he's blackmailing him and then comes home and asks for Rafe's help to get rid of the body.

First time sharing my writing, pls be nice <;3.

Your eyes burn at the bright light in contrast to the dark room that you had previously been asleep in. Your phone is dinging with messages that you figure you’ll ignore and read in the morning, until the obnoxious ringer goes off indicating you’re getting a phone call.

‘My fucking god.

You snatch the phone into your hand and squint your eyes enough so you can see the answer button without bothering to look at who was calling. Your eyelids scratch against your eyes like sandpaper, and you can’t fight the heaviness weighing them down.

You try to say something into the phone but all that comes out is a gravelly murmur.

“Can I-,” There’s a short sniffle, “Can I come up to your room?” His octave is low and soft, if he was anyone else you would have second guessed who was calling.

Rafe’s distraught voice pumped adrenaline into your body, forcing you to sit up in bed.

“Are you okay?”

“I just- I need to come up. You’re home, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Grabbing pants wasn’t of importance to you at the moment, mostly because you didn’t want to dig around your drawers to find something and waste more time. You were just glad tonight was one of the nights you decided to wear an oversized t-shirt to bed.

You hurry down the stairs, using your phone screen as a flashlight to find the steps and illuminate the space between the halls and door. The metal handle is just as cold as the tiles on the floor, and as goosebumps raise all over your body, you're desperate to get him to your room so you can jump back into your warm covers.

Your selfish desire ceases the second you open the door. Rafe Cameron, the usual cocky but otherwise unemotional boy you were once bonded with, is at your doorstep with wet cheeks and a heavy expression that left you with about a hundred thoughts running through your mind of what could have happened. You pull the door further open, and he walks in past you. The moonlight disappears as you close the entrance, leaving you in pitch black. You wait to ask any questions till you’ve made it to your bedroom.

“This w—” You started to whisper.

“I remember where it is.”

You momentarily forget that this used to be a second home to him. He knows how many steps lead up to your second floor, and which dishes are in which cabinet. He knows that you wear little to nothing at nighttime because your room is hotter than the rest of the house, he knows which part of the couch you prefer to lay on, and most of all, he knows you’re the only one aware of the kind of person his dad is.

You get to the top of the stairs and after a few more steps and turns, you push your door open and close it behind him. After turning on your lamp, your stomach sinks at the sight of your former best friends' dazed expression and nervous fidgeting. You barely manage to suppress the urge to wrap your arms around him, instead you wrap them around yourself and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“What’s going on?”

“I haven’t been in here since freshmen year of high school.” He says flatly, looking around the dimly lit room. The rays of orange from your lamp display across the walls and furniture.

He sounds distant when he speaks, and your arms tighten around your torso. Rafe Cameron was not one to be fazed. At least not the one you knew. Not your Rafe. You heard about his short temper and drug habits only after the two of you had stopped hanging out. You saw him at a party last summer with a rolled-up bill up his nose sniffing white lines from a table. Maybe you should have intervened then, but you weren’t sure what your place was in his life anymore.

“Yeah, I know,” You clear your throat, “Are you gonna talk to me?"

“I have this- this... stuff that I’m dealing with. And uh, I don’t think I can tell anyone else. I’m not even sure I should tell you.” He sits down beside you and curiosity fills your mind.

“Rafe,” you tuck a leg underneath yourself and adjust so your body is facing him, “what happened?”

In this moment, you weren’t just ex-friends who grew apart over the years, making small talk in the name of nostalgia. In this moment, you’re the kids cannonballing into your pool at the family barbeque, the teenagers sneaking alcohol from your parents’ liquor cabinet just to get drunk in your room, the friends who spent every day together. In this moment, you never grew apart and you still understood each other.

“I did something. And- and I- I did it to protect my dad, you know? But someone knew. He fucking knew I did it and he was trying to blackmail my dad for money. And so, he—”

“What’d he do? What did you do?”

His blue eyes observe your face like he’s trying to determine his next words. You want him to talk to you, so you lean closer to put a hand on his knee for support.

“He killed our pilot, Gavin. He asked me to help him-” He lets out a shaky breath as he rubs his face, like he's trying to wake up from a nightmare. “Help him get rid of it.”

“Did you…?”

Even with him turning away, you see his eyes moisten. He opens his mouth like he's about to answer but instead, he clenches his jaw shut and looks up to the ceiling. Your face twists with concern at his reaction, but you don't want to say anything else until he answers.

“I did, Y/n.” His voice cracked.

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to criticize Ward or ask what the hell happened to him after you stopped being friends, but neither would do him any good. Instead, you sigh and give in to the urge telling you to pull him into you. You wonder why he didn't go to Topper or Kelce; you never spotted him in public without one of them at his side. But as he embraces you tightly, you quickly realize what he wants is comfort and you wince at the sobs that start to erupt out of him. In between sniffles, he starts to tell you everything. Not just about what his dad did tonight, but about what he did that led to it in the first place; he killed a cop.

“I think there might be something wrong with me.”

Might is an understatement.

“That is some pretty fucked up stuff, Rafe.”

“I need you. I don’t know how to fix this on my own.” He lifts his head up. His face is only an inch away from yours, you can feel his warm breath on your skin as his eyes gaze into yours like he’s searching for something.

“Okay,” You put your hands on his shoulders to create space between you, “Stay here tonight. I’ll help you. We’ll fix it.”

#rafe cameron #rafe #fanfic #obx fic #rafe obx #outerbanks #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #rafe x reader #ward cameron #angst #soft rafe cameron #grandmasterswifefic #grandmasterswife #rafe x y/n #rafe imagine

[sporesgalaxy]

Not mad saying this or anything and feel free to ignore me I don’t control you but I just wanted to say as someone who has actually seen Oppenheimer (and trust me it’s a long movie with a heavy subject and a lot of loud noise so it’s not for everyone and I’m not gonna say everyone has to see it) and Barbie I wanted to say Oppenheimer really isn’t military propaganda it is very much about the indifference of the government and military towards death in pursuit of power and the evils of atomic weaponry. Minor spoilers but the movie just straight up ends with saying the invention of the bomb destroyed the world (while showing warheads and military weapons) it’s very much a film that paints the government and war and invention of the bombs in an extremely negative light and of course being about a man who actually existed it isn’t perfectly accurate to how he may have felt but I do think its worthwhile to watch if you can handle the subject matter and a long movie like that because I felt like it was the first movie about a war in a long time that actually doesn’t glorify any of it. Sorry for long ask I’m passionate about film and I feel like people are forming these opinions without any real knowledge of the actual film itself while just deciding since it’s about war it’s bad. It isn’t for everyone and I would never say you HAVE to see it because like I said it’s a heavy subject but it IS a film I actually recommend for those who can handle it.

Also yeah the Barbie movie is definitely gonna sell a lot of dolls Mattel wouldn’t ok it otherwise but by itself it is very worth watching and really a beautiful film about existing as a woman and the intentions behind Barbie vs what she became and a bunch of other important and beautiful things.

Sorry to write an essay in your inbox like I said I’m very passionate about film and I kind of just wanted to like. Share that Oppenheimer is in fact not pro military or war and if someone watches it and thinks it was in favor of any of the events depicted I don’t think they really understood the film or even paid attention to it because it was pretty on the nose about how bad stuff was.

Again feel free to delete or ignore or whatever you do. you don’t have to publish this or do anything other than I hope read it. And again I’m not mad or vindictive towards you I just have strong feelings about movies.

Ah, I knew I was being reductive in those tags calling them "both propaganda" but I had just woken up and considered it close enough. Apologies all the same.

Interesting to know that the film apparently isn't pro-war! I am much more interested in watching it for myself knowing that, although I'll admit my curiosity is not entirely in good faith. I'm interested in the history of WW2 and the Cold War and there are a lot of easy stumbling blocks and common points of oversimplification and misrepresentation, even for anti-war media. I'm curious to know how much nuance the film really manages to take into consideration in this regard.

I have heard from critics of Oppenheimer who did watch the film that it made no mention of the Navajo people who were radiation-poisoned for generations because of the nuclear testing in New Mexico. I think even if the film is anti-war and anti-weaponry, this oversight was a mistake that wastes compelling support for the anti-war argument, and undercuts itself in doing so.

I apologize again for misrepresenting what I expect from the Barbie movie. Interviews with the director and advertisements have made it clear that the movie aims to have a feminist message, which from what I have seen will probably be a strong and philosophically sound argument.

Still, there's a counterargument to be made that this ultimately serves as another example of a brand capitalizing on values-based marketing (i.e. the Gilette razor ad ["short film"] about toxic masculinity bring uncool). I think that addressing it that way is more than a little reductive, but I genuinely assumed that this was the reasoning behind pairing Barbie and Oppenheimer in memes (besides their clear tonal juxtaposition and shared opening day).

#syd writes an essay #also its ok anon i love long writing. as you can see lol #long post

[ffviirarepairweek]

Hello! What is the definition of rarepair?

I feel this group is overtaken by the same old popular pairs we see everywhere all the time

Hi there, so there’s two parts to your question.

I’m going to address the second part first – that it’s just the same popular pairs being shown. Before your ask arrived in the inbox, I had reblogged the following pairings for this year's event (in no particular order):

Reno/Aerith

Sephiroth/Elfe

Reno/Veld

Ifalna/Lucrecia

Biggs/Wedge

Scarlet/Lucrecia

Reno/Tseng

Aerith/Kunsel

Reno/Rufus

Seph/Zack

Vincent/Veld

Cloud/Wedge

I’m also writing requests for Seph/Elfe, Seph/Lazard, Reeve/Vincent, and Biggs/Wedge which will be posted later in the week.

I wouldn’t call that list just all the same popular pairings. If you mean there’s a lot of repeats from previous years of this event, well, yeah. We have a number of repeat participants who, unsurprisingly, still like the same pairings they did last year.

In order for me to share a pairing, someone needs to make content for the event for them (and of course Tumblr has to cooperate in showing it to me, or they can mention to me that it exists – a quick reminder to please do let me know if I’ve been missing your posts, we’ve already found one person who the tag is ignoring > . <) so that I can share it. (Or, someone can request a pairing and I will write something for it to the best of my ability.)

The second part – what is a rare pair.

On the prompt post ( https://ffviirarepairweek.tumblr.com/post/740152122290618368/ffvii-rare-pair-week-2024 ) I have the opening as:

Urban Dictionary defines rarepair as “A ship or pairing that not many people ship or is very rare to find fanfiction and fanart of. Typically happens within small fandoms or with minor characters.”

Of course, people often ask for more specific clarifications because some events are very specific about this. I’ve answered this previously, and this year in this post: https://ffviirarepairweek.tumblr.com/post/740261946911260672/is-there-a-number-of-fics-on-ao3-that-you-are

I’ll copy that reply here as well however:

Obviously there are the big huge pairings that you can’t avoid, and no one is going to mistake them for being rare, and there are some pairings people feel are rare on AO3 but may have had a bigger home on other sites in the past. There’s always debate on what counts as rare. If a pairing has their own currently running active annual event week, then I’d encourage folx to seek those out for those pairings first, as someone is trying to create a space for that pairing already and I’m not trying to take that away (but not everyone knows those are happening either!). My general policy is I’m not going to police a rare pair. At the end of the day, I want folx to have fun and encourage people to create above all.

To further elaborate on that, my goal, as always, in running any event (week or otherwise) is to encourage people to have fun and create for the things they love. To help people find others that share their interests. Maybe introduce others to a pairing they may not have thought about yet, when it comes to rare pair week in particular. I would much rather people feel welcome to create, than sit here looking at every fan site calculating how many entries there is for each pairing and tell someone, sorry, your pairing has x number more things than another, so you’re not welcome in the playground. My table has enough room for us all to sit at for show and tell.

I'll try to be better with tagging the pairings so you can ignore the pairings you don't like for the rest of the week - I was working off mobile the last couple days to post things more frequently. That's on me. If there's something particular you need tagged, you can always send in an ask or message me directly.

#ffviirarepairweek #ask

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter IX: In The Morning You’ll Be Gone

masterlist | playlist | chapter viii

summary: Friends is a heavy word for you and eddie. things are off to a weird start as you spend some time reconnecting after your show in vegas.

tags/warnings: slow burn, rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, gn!reader, angst is slightly lighter this time, but obviously still there!! these two are horrible at feelings btw if that wasn’t obvious.

a/n: let me know what you think! i have a loooot of ideas swimming around right now, but i wanna hear ur input! love u guys sm, thank u for reading! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

——

September 1987

“Honey, I’m home!” Eddie kicks the door to your shared apartment open, the old wood creaking under his heavy boots.

The ruckus summons you to the entryway. You speed walk from your master bedroom, where you’ve been spending your nights without your boyfriend. The house already feels warmer with him inside. “Hi, baby!” You squeal, running into his arms. He lifts you into the air, spinning you around like a husband home from war.

When he places you back in front of him, you refuse to let go. You lock your hands around his neck, and pull his face into yours to connect your lips. He relaxes against your touch, finally settling the yearning in his stomach. It’s been two long months of Eddie on tour, and you had refused to come because you didn’t want to be his “groupie.” You still haven’t told him how stupid that decision was. Regardless, it doesn’t matter now. He’s home, and he’s in your arms, exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“How are you, love of mine?”

“Never better, now that you’re home.”

—

Eddie’s POV

It’s probably the best he's ever performed, much to his own surprise. He's played Las Vegas before, but something about his own energy has brought the best out of the crowd. By the end of the set, Eddie’s shirtless, drenched in sweat, and practically deaf, but the excitement roaring through him makes it all worth it. He’d caught you watching too, standing on the side of the stage right up against the barricade like you’d used to when you were dating. He couldn’t help stealing glances throughout the show, catching you singing and dancing along like you were still his biggest fan.

Back in the band’s dressing room, Corroded Coffin light cigarettes and joints while beer bottles are cracked open, an atmosphere of relaxation settling in after what feels like years of being on edge. Much of that probably has to do with their frontman being in a good mood. Eddie sips his beer as he chats with Gareth, who’s puffing on a joint dangerously close to frying his hair.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, huh?” Gareth jokes, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with his own. “You finally get laid or something?” Eddie snorts in response, ignoring the question. “C’mon, you gotta let me know what’s got you performing like that again. I haven’t seen you this in-the-zone since— “ Gareth stops himself, but Eddie knows where he’s going. He hasn’t performed like that since you broke up with him. Gareth doesn’t push him, but his eyes communicate his question.

“We aren’t back together, don’t freak out like that.” Eddie answers the unspoken inquiry, indulging his friend. “But we talked. Amicably, even. We decided we’re gonna try the whole friend thing. For real, this time.”

“And you’re okay with that? Just being friends?” Gareth’s concern is written on his face, and for good reason. You and Eddie tried being friends after breaking up, but it was always falling apart, probably due to not giving yourselves time to heal.

Eddie nods. “I am. It’s bound to be better than not having them in my life at all. I know it’s gonna be difficult, but I’m selfish. I don’t wanna be without them again.”

Gareth nods, taking another swig of his beer. “Good luck, man. Seriously. They were so good for you, I just hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

He has, he’s almost sure of it. If given the chance, Eddie’s gonna show you just how grateful he is for you, just how much he cherishes you. He fucked up, badly, when you were together, but now that he knows what life without you is like, he’s sure he never wants to experience it again.

He's pulled from his thoughts when the dressing room door opens, and you enter with Steve and your band, dressed down from your set. You’re wearing sweatpants and, what Eddie is almost sure, is his old Metallica t-shirt. It’s faded, worn beyond recognition even when he had possession of it, but you still look incredible. Your hair is piled on top of your head, with little stray pieces hanging in front of your face. You catch him looking at you, and give him the smallest of smiles. He returns it with a gleaming grin, one that makes his cheeks ache, but he doesn’t care. You’re here, willingly, in his dressing room, hanging out with him and his band. Almost like nothing has changed in the last two years, even though you’re on your way to being one of the biggest bands in the world. Bigger than CC, even.

You shuffle further into the crowded room while Steve corrals the stragglers standing out in the hall. He’s about to give another rousing Manager Speech, so Eddie kicks his feet up on the small table in front of the couch as you place yourself on the arm closest to him. Your bandmates make themselves comfortable, and he dares to look at Robin, who lets a smile slip from her lips, and it’s like the weight of the world lifts from his shoulders. You must have filled her in by now. Maybe he has a chance to get all of his friends back.

Steve finally approaches the rest of you, standing in the middle of the room while the excitement dies down. “Alright!” He claps his hands together, summoning everyone’s attention finally. “We’re hitting the road for Oregon shortly, I need everyone back on their bus by 2AM. You guys were incredible tonight, I’m so proud of all of you.” Steve looks to Eddie, then you as he says this, his praise directly targeted at his front people. “Til then, do as you please, and call me if things get out of hand. Thank you!” The room erupts in chatter as Steve approaches the couch, followed closely by Robin. “I would love an explanation for this, by the way.” Steve wags his finger between you two, still sitting close enough to touch, without actually touching. “Whenever you feel like telling me.” He looks to Eddie, who bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing. He almost breaks until he feels a hand on him. Your hand, gentle and warm, rests atop his bare shoulder, like the most casual thing in the world, and he can’t bring himself to move, worrying the moment would be broken.

“Don’t worry about us, Stevie. We’re being good.” Your voice is teasing, and clearly worn from your set. Eddie fights the urge to look up at you, knowing one glance will break his fragile composure. Your fingers tap against his clavicle, sticking to him slightly due to the sweat. He clears his throat as quietly as he can, trying his best not to let your touch send him into a spiral.

Steve shrugs. “Alright! Be back by two, please.” With that, Steve leaves the dressing room.

—

Your POV

By now the room is empty, save for you, Eddie, and Robin. You desperately hope they can’t see through your confident facade. Inside, you’re shaking, having felt Eddie’s skin on yours for the second time today. Everything is confusing, you have no idea where the two of you are headed. It feels new and exciting now, getting Eddie back, but it also feels fragile. One wrong move will send you back to square one, and you’re not willing to start over again.

It’s Robin who breaks the silence first. “So, we goin’ out tonight? Or do you two forget how to party together?”

You squint your eyes at her joke, and turn to finally look at Eddie. “You wanna party?” You hope desperately that this isn’t the worst idea ever.

Eddie nods, beaming. You get off the arm of the couch, stumbling less than gracefully to your feet. “Awesome. I’m gonna go change, meet us in the back in like, twenty minutes!” You and Robin scurry out of the dressing room, giggling to yourselves.

“So,” Robin starts as you rush to your dressing room, where Sylvie and Lilith sit chatting on the couch, the small TV providing background noise. “You gonna tell Steve about you and Ed?” Her question silences the rest of the band.

“You better tell us first!” Sylvie shrieks, getting to their feet. “What the hell was all that, even?”

Lilith joins them, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you two were almost being friendly in there.”

You lift your, well Eddie’s, t-shirt over your head, swapping it for a tighter, smaller black one, and change out of your sweats and into some light wash, baggy jeans. “There’s nothing to explain, really.” You turn to face your friends. “We talked about what he said. He apologized, and we’re trying the friend thing.” Lilith rolls her eyes, and Sylvie shakes their head. “What?” you ask, exasperated.

Robin speaks for them. “We just know how that’s gonna go, babes. One of you is gonna… I dunno, slip up? Like last time?” When you don’t offer her an answer, Robin continues, pouring both of you a pre game drink. “You guys just aren’t meant to be friends. You’d tear each other apart before you could get to genuine, platonic friendship. You’re not, well, Steve and I.” The last bit is meant as a joke, you know, but it stings a little. You hope they’re not right, that you can be friends with Eddie without destroying you both.

“Guess we’ll have to find out.” You shrug, and yank your boots on. “For now, I just wanna drink.” You take your vodka soda from Robin and throw it down your throat, as if to emphasize your desperation.

—

You, Robin, Eddie, and Steve pile into the back of a cab, all of you already tipsy. Steve’s decided to chaperone, and you can’t really argue considering the circumstances. He sits between you and Eddie, a knee against one of each of yours. The four of you are in casual attire, on your way to a club on the Strip you’ve never heard of. It feels like high school, almost, minus the whole “being in a band touring with a household name” thing. It feels comfortable, sitting between Steve and Robin, with Eddie on Steve’s other side, on your way to get drinks and finally just hang out. No drama, no worries, no screaming fans. A break.

When the car pulls up, Robin climbs out and holds the door for the rest of you. You link your arm through hers, and she links her other arm with Steve. You look at Eddie, standing next to you with his arms firmly at his sides, and offer your free arm. His lips split into a smile, and he links his arm with yours, causing your heart to surge. Friends.

There’s some truth to Robin’s words. You know you’ll probably love Eddie forever, way more than you just would a friend, but you can’t force yourself back into that relationship. You don’t know what your feelings for him are anymore, you just know you have them. And having them is dangerous, especially now that you’re both terribly successful and there’s no way you two could ever work it out.

—

Eddie’s POV

All he’s aware of is your shoulder against his as the four of you squeeze through the dark nightclub. The music is deafening, Jump Around by House of Pain shaking the whole building. He wants a drink. Really, he wants to leave, and go watch a bad movie on the bus, or reread The Hobbit for the fifth time this year. But those things don’t have you in a really tight t-shirt, so instead he’s waddling uncomfortably between sweaty bodies, following closely behind you as you make your way to the bar.

“What’re you having?” He reads your lips more than hears you, squinting to make out what you’re saying in the dark room.

“I’ll take a beer, whatever they have.” Eddie feels his voice rasp as he shouts over the music, but you nod like you’ve heard him anyway. He watches as you order, leaning on the bar so the tender; a good looking dude with salt and pepper hair, a good body, and tight fitting clothes, can hear you over the ruckus. You flirt with your posture, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as you lean in to speak to him. He nods, winking at you before walking away to retrieve your drinks. Eddie can't help the burning in his chest as he watches the interaction, fighting every urge to jump over the counter and beat the guy senseless. Not that he’d be able to, the dude is jacked.

It takes almost no time for you to turn around, coming face to face with Eddie, your nose far too close to his chest. “Here,” you hand him his bottle, and he reads the label.

“They had Red Stripe?” Still his favorite, and only ever found in the crevices of the dingiest liquor stores.

You shrug. “Vegas has everything! C’mon, let’s go find the others.” You take his hand, and Eddie looks at it, a fraction of a second too long before taking it.Despite his hesitation, holding your hand still feels right.

The two of you finally find Robin and Steve, drunkenly grooving on the dance floor, both with a drink in hand. Eddie scoffs at their shamelessness, and looks at you. He’s on edge, unsure of what your next suggestion will be.

“You wanna dance?” Is the last thing he’s expecting.

—

Your POV

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but it doesn’t deter you from slapping a hand over your mouth.

Eddie’s head whips in your direction, like you’ve startled him. “What?” This is your chance, your way out. Say something else, say anything else. “Do you wanna dance?” Shit! You watch as a smile threatens his tight lipped expression, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards despite his hold on them.

“Sure.” Sure?! Guess we’re doing this! You realize neither of you have let go of the other’s hand. You look from your clasped fingers, to his face, and back again before exhaling, and dragging your ex boyfriend to the dance floor. Robin and Steve see you and wave you over. The walk to them is dreadfully long, your hand sticking to Eddie’s with your sweat. Gross.

“Look who decided to join us!” Steve slurs as he twirls Robin under his arm.

“Steve, I thought you were chaperoning?” You tease, rolling your eyes as you feel Eddie’s fingers let go of yours. Your hand feels cold again.

“Chaperones can have fun too, y’know!” He pokes your arm jokingly, like he’s trying to tip you over. “And if chaperones can’t have fun, so can the, uh,”

“Chaperonees!” Robin interrupts, helpfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Chaperonees! Now, would ya not look so miserable? You know I worry!” Steve drapes an arm around your shoulder as you laugh, enjoying his mood.

“I am having fun!” You exclaim, taking another gulp of your cocktail.

Eddie sips his beer, as if in solidarity. “C’mon, let these two dorks compete to see who can be the worst dancer here.” He takes your hand in his again, this time without the weird tiptoeing around it, and you turn to face him. The song has changed to Def Leppard’s Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad, drastically changing the vibe. Robin and Steve continue to spin and jive aimlessly, but they blur in comparison to Eddie, standing right in front of you.

The drinks flowing through you do their job, lowering your inhibitions and giving you courage. You gently rest your arms around Eddie’s neck, and feel him tense at your touch before fully relaxing. His hands are still by his sides though, so you look from his eyes, to where they hang uselessly. “You’re not gonna melt, y’know.” You joke, but Eddie doesn’t laugh.

“Honestly, I might.” The words shoot through you, and you can feel your cheeks blush. It seems to rouse him from his anxiety, though, as he slowly lifts his arms to rest a hand on either side of your waist. Maybe he won’t melt, but you’re almost sure you will.

—

Eddie’s POV

There is no way he’s surviving tonight. He is one hundred percent certain you will be his cause of death, and that it will be painful, unbearable even. He lets himself look into your eyes, just for a second. They shine as you look back into his, narrowing the way they do when you smile. Eddie hasn’t received a smile from you like that in what feels like a lifetime.

As he’s losing himself in the way your hands rest around him, clasped together at the nape of his neck, he’s brought back down to earth. A bright, sudden light comes from behind him, illuminating your features for a split second. Your eyes widen, and your arms fall back to your sides.

“Eddie! Y/n! Over here!” Eddie whips his head around in time to catch a second flash, temporarily blinding him. He recognizes the culprit, a local paparazzo hell bent on torturing the members of the metal scene.

“Gale,” Eddie tries to remain calm, his heart rate skyrocketing as worst case scenarios flip through his head. “You can’t sell that.”

“I can do whatever I please, Munson!” Gale is slimy, never once giving his subjects a break. Because “he has to eat too.”

Your voice startles Eddie as you speak. “What do you plan on doing with that?”

Gale shrugs, “Sell it, make a quick buck. If I’m lucky, they’ll use it when they speculate on your love life.” He chuckles to himself, waggling his eyebrows. Before anyone can stop him, Gale lifts the camera a third time. “Smile big!” Flash.

Regardless of how badly Eddie wants to rip that camera out of his hands and throw it across the club, he doesn’t. That look doesn’t suit him, especially in front of you, and he’s not in the mood to catch a charge. Instead he pivots back to you. “What do you wanna do about this?”

You don’t seem bothered, in fact you’re uncharacteristically calm about the situation. “Whatever you want, it doesn’t bother me that much. There are worse rumors that could spread. Plus, you and I know the truth, right?”

Eddie only blinks, hoping his thoughts will catch up with his mouth. “Are you sure? Because I can call a guy. Get that picture wiped off the face of the earth.”

“If you want. Don’t stress on my account, though.” You go so far as to replace your hands around him, and Eddie’s breath catches, holding it for a millisecond too long. “It isn’t the end of the world.”

Eddie gingerly places his hands back on your waist, but neither of you dance as the song is replaced with Metallica’s Don’t Tread On Me. His brain is sprinting, trying to catch up with what’s happening.

“You’re not embarrassed?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. I mean, not by you, but-“ He stops himself. But what? You’re waiting for him to continue, staring at him unblinkingly. “I asked you first.”

You look at your feet, concentrating on the ground between you two. Eddie’s heart sinks, of course you’re embarrassed. There’s a reason you’re not together anymore. “I mean, this is what fame is, right? Rumors being spread about you? Untrue things being said? It’s not really any different than high school.” You laugh sadly, still not meeting his gaze.

“That doesn’t mean you have to like it.” Eddie lowers his voice, leaning to speak into your ear. He thinks he catches you stiffen, startled by his sudden closeness.

Finally, you shake your head. “I’m not. You don’t embarrass me, Eddie. Not lately, anyway.” This time your chuckle sounds more like you, and Eddie lets one slip through his own teeth.

“Alright. I’ll leave it, then.”

“So you’re not-“

“No, I’m not fuckin’ embarrassed. I'd tell everyone that rumor if I could.” He catches himself by surprise with his answer, but he doesn’t backpedal.

You look at him, finally. “What?”

Eddie shrugs. “Worse things have been said than that I’m dating my cowork— I mean, my friend.” He shows his teeth despite his nerves, trying to reassure you that this won’t be a big deal. “Even if that does happen, by the way, no one’s gonna believe it. You’re too good for that.”

—

Your POV

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re quickly interrupted. “We need to go. Now.” Steve and Robin are stumbling all over each other as they approach you, their fingers interlaced as if holding onto dumb or dumber will somehow save them from tripping.

“What? Why?” Your voice breaks with panic, whether from this current event or the one shortly before, you’re not sure.

“We kind of uh, knocked an entire tray of booze over while we were dancing.” Robin can’t get her sentence out without giggling hysterically.

“Turns out some big wig is here, and he’s pissed.” Steve adds, snickering between shallow breaths. “Guy’s a douche anyway, but he wants us gone. Security’s lookin’ for us.”

“For once, I'm not the one to get us kicked out!” Eddie cheers, and grabs your hand. “Let’s go!” The four of you haul ass through the club. You don’t know how drastic the measures are, but your heart still races. The night air hits you as the club door swings open, your ride already idling against the curb. The four of you pile in, borderline maniacal laughter erupting from each of you.

“You fucking assholes!” You shriek, but your tone remains playful. “I was having a good time!”

Eddie looks to you then, and you share a quiet acknowledgement with him. You aren’t lying, you were having fun. By the looks of if, he was too.

“Well, we’re sorry. We have three whole months of fun ahead of us. I’m sure you’ll make up for this time.” Steve lets his head fall onto your shoulder, and You pat his cheek with your free hand. The other still hangs onto Eddie’s, his thumb stroking the top of it idly.

“I forgive you, Stevie.”

—

Eddie’s POV

It takes less than 24 hours for the story to break. He’s on the bus, half asleep as his bandmates circle his tiny bed the best they can. “What the hell?” He sits up, rubbing his eyes as the men before him come into focus. “What’s going on?”

“You tell us, player.” Jeff tosses something onto Eddie’s stomach, and it lands with a slap against his bare skin. He grabs it, and investigates the cover of what looks like a knock off National Inquirer. The headline reads, in big obnoxious font, MUNSON’S NEW BOO? Underneath the text is the picture from last night. His back is to the photographer, but you can still tell it’s him. He’s wearing a denim vest and black jeans, his hair sticking up like it tends to do. Over his shoulder, he can make out your features. Your sparkly eyes, freckled cheeks, and pouty lips. You’re looking at him like you love him, your hands around his neck, his resting on your hips.

“This is not what it looks like.” His voice doesn’t waver. Eddie thinks about what you said. You’re not embarrassed by him, so why would he be embarrassed by you?

Gareth shrugs. “It’s okay if it is, y’know. As long as you’re gonna do it right this time.” Jeff nods in agreement.

“Nothing is going on! We’re friends!”

“Right, right. Because that totally just looks like two friends.”

Eddie looks at the picture again. It’s a good picture of you, and he selfishly wants to tear it out of the magazine and stuff it into his wallet. He wants to keep it close to him. Gareth is right, but that doesn’t change the facts. Friends are all you are.

“Does Y/N know?” Jeff interrupts Eddie’s train of thought.

“I mean, I just found out.”

“Yes, but you sleep like the dead. We’ve been in Portland for three hours.”

“They know the picture was taken. I’m sure they’re expecting this.”

“Alright, man. Now get your ass up, soundcheck in an hour.”

—

Your POV

You read the words over and over again, begging them to make sense. “Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin, spotted snuggling up to Death Dance Approximately vocalist Y/n L/n. The two are currently on a cross country tour together, playing clubs and amphitheaters in North America.”

“What are you gonna do?” Lilith sticks another home fry in her mouth, keeping her eyes on you.

You shrug, tossing the magazine back onto the table. “Nothing I can really do about it now, I'm not too concerned.”

“They’re not concerned because they wish it was true!” Robin interjects, sliding into the booth next to you, a fresh coffee in her hands.

“Excuse you?”

“Please, since the day I met you, Eddie Munson has been the only guy for you. Ever. Don’t tell me that’s changed now.” You don’t look at her, and that gives her your answer. “So, we leave it, and we make sure it’s a prophecy we can fulfill!” She slurps a sip of her drink, and you scoff.

“We just got to friends. Give it a rest!”

“Okay!” Robin throws up her hands. “But I’m calling it now, you’ll be in his pants before we hit the east coast.”

You roll your eyes, and turn back to your breakfast. “Whatever.”

—

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @littlepotatobeansworld @poisonedluv | send a message to be added🫶

#st #stranger things #stranger things fan fiction #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!reader #gn!reader #90s au #angst #slow burn #enemies to friends #estranged lovers #mutual pining #mutual heartbreak #strangerthingscentral #fundamental differing #new kid fic #steve harrington #robin buckley #corroded coffin #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

[satashiiwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So I got today to write 6k and finish this chapter if I wanna stay on track…. And I got stuff scheduled all day.

This is not looking promising… maybe by the end of the week?

Tagging @quietborderline @missanniewhimsy @megasaurus-regina @monsterrae1 @westernlarch @tkwritesdumbassassins @outtoshatter @muffinsandsweets @rosieposiepuddingnpie with no pressure as always. This is just for fun and to keep me on track.

Banner by radio chatter.

From: Family, Familia, ‘Ohana, Chapter 10: FUBAR, Danny’s POV

Fandom: 911, H50, SWAT

Pairings: Buddie, McDanno, platonic deacon/hondo

Fic summary:

When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

Tags/warnings: kidnapped eddie, first draft, NavySeal!buck, alternative universe, timeline what timeline?, set vaguely season 3 911 and I’m not giving a time frame for H50 (because it wouldn’t make sense anyway). Written while sleep deprived.

Danny rubs his temples, fighting off a looming headache. He’s been staring at his own terrible cramped handwriting for hours. Steve’s fingers replace his, and he lets his eyes close with a groan as Steve rubs his neck and temples. 

“You got another headache?” Steve’s voice is gentle and soft. He’s practically sitting on Danny’s desk as he hovers, but Danny doesn’t care. They’re alone in the office, and if Steve wants to touch him, Danny’s going to let him. 

“Yeah.”

“I can get you some ibuprofen or Tylenol?”

“Took some with the Alka-Seltzer earlier.” Danny will pay for Steve to keep up the neck massage he’s giving. Steve’s fingers are digging into the knot that had been forming between Danny’s shoulders, and when it releases, he bites his tongue to stop from moaning. 

“You didn’t eat.” There’s disapproval and worry in Steve’s tone. 

“Wasn’t hungry.”  

He wasn’t.  

“This has been sitting out too long now. Do you want me to order something?”

“Let me rephrase. I am not hungry right now, nor was I.”

Steve chuckles, and his fingers find another knot, working into Danny’s left shoulder that he’d slept on last night on the sofa for a few hours. He’s ignoring Danny’s grumbling like usual. 

“These headaches of yours worry me.”  

Danny opens his eyes at this. Steve is close—closer than he’d thought. He’s wrapped himself around Danny, and they’re not touching other than where Steve’s hands are still rubbing his shoulders, but he can feel his body heat because Steve is that close. 

Steve’s observing Danny, waiting for him to say something about the concern he’d voiced, and Danny is floundering with what to say. He stupidly lands on, “They’re just headaches.”

“You’ve been getting a lot of them.”

“I get them when I’m stressed.”

“You get them less when you sleep over.”

“That’s because I sleep better at your place,” slips out before he can take the words back. 

“Why?”

It’s an innocuous question. Why? Why, indeed.  

He has his theories. Danny had slept better when he was still married and sharing a bed with Rachel, and he could roll over and cuddle with her, listening to her breathe. He slept worse when alone because he hated being alone. It’d never been a problem until he and Rachel had started having problems, and she’d kicked him to the couch most nights, denying him coldly. 

Danny was like a dog that needed a companion or otherwise would tear things apart out of anxiety—he needed another heartbeat to listen to in the night. Sleeping at Steve’s and knowing he was just upstairs or hearing his footsteps when he got up at night to do his patrols around the house that Steve swore he didn’t do but Danny had watched him do every night he’d slept over unless Steve was drugged or concussed… there was a rhythm to those nights. They usually watched a movie after dinner or a game and sat too close on the couch because Danny was too tactile, and Steve seemed to crave touch as much as Danny needed to give it.

Confessing this to Steve, however, was probably not in Danny’s best interest. Knowing Steve, he’d have Danny moved in by the end of the week, and Danny needed just a little bit of space for when Steve would inevitably find either another woman or Cath would finally wander back his way. 

Danny didn’t need a front-row seat to Steve choosing a leggy brunette or blonde over him. He was already going to be too close, and it would hurt when it finally happened. If Steve is talking to Cath, then… she will probably come back at some point. Danny hadn’t known they’d still been talking after she left him in Afghanistan a year ago to go chasing after missing villagers and hadn’t wanted Steve’s help. 

#wip wednesday #family familia ‘ohana #first draft #navy seal evan buckley #kidnapped eddie diaz #buddie #Mcdanno #911/hawaii 5 0 crossover #borrowed swat characters

[wrathfulrook]

WIP Wednesday Friday

Tagged by @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton and @trench-rot. Thank you!

I’m tagging @adelaidedrubman @inquisitors-grave @strangefable @deputyash and anyone else who’d like to share! I love seeing everyone’s WIPs!

A bit more from Patience’s canon:

“Fractured rib,” Dr. What’s-His-Face said at her gasp of pain, while he gently palpated her sides. He’d introduced himself to her, but she didn’t care to commit his name to memory.

Scribbling something down on a legal pad, he addressed Jacob. “Normally I wouldn’t suggest bed rest for a fractured rib. But, with the other wounds and contusions, I think she spend two or three days in bed, minimum, maybe up to a week.”

Jacob nodded pensively, showing a level of interest Patience found surprising. “Does she need to wear a compression wrap?”

“No.” She doctor shook his head. “It could do more harm than good by restricting her breathing. She should ice her rib every few hours for the next couple days, as well as any of the more painful bruises. The wound should be cleaned, and its bandage should be changed daily,” he said, gesturing to the stab wound on her thigh. “Watch for any signs of infection, including fever. Practice standard care for the new tattoo.”

Jacob nodded along with every new instruction. “Should the pain become unmanageable or interfere with her sleep, give her one of these pills. Just don’t overdo it. They can be addicting.”

The doctor ripped the note from the pad and passed it to Jacob, along with a small bottle of pills. Aside from when he’d first introduced himself, he had ignored Patience the entire time she’d been in the infirmary. She’d never felt more like a pet at a veterinarian, and she’d actually been treated by a veterinarian before. She wasn’t sure if he just had a terrible bedside manner or if it was just because Jacob was there.

Folding the note and tucking it into his pocket, the Herald turned to Patience and asked, “Can you walk or do I need to carry you?”

She scoffed indignantly, despite the fact that walking was actually incredibly difficult and painful. She’d rather fall flat on her ass than let Jacob Seed carry her around. She only hoped that wherever she was to be kept was close by.

As she hobbled down the hall, she let Jacob help hold her upright, only because she had no other option. He slowed as they, finally, approached an isolated door down a long hall. Jacob let her fall onto the bed just inside as they spilled through the door. She worked to situate herself as painlessly as possible on the extra-long twin bed while Jacob closed the double-doors to the balcony, locking them with a key he deposited into his pocket.

“Can’t have you running off on me.”

Patience rolled her eyes and gestured up and down her bruised and broken body. “I don’t think I could.”

“Yeah, well you don’t have a good sense of self-preservation.”

“Good enough to know I should leave.”

He snorted out a laugh, but otherwise ignored her words. Pointing things out in the small space he told her, “Bathroom is through that door there, but there’s no tub. So, no showering until you’re off bedrest. Record player’s on the dresser and albums are in that cabinet over there. I’ll get some clothes brought up for you. I’ll have someone come up to bring you meals, refill your water, and clean your wounds. Try not to get up too often.”

Patience was surprised. “You’re actually letting me go on bed rest?”

“I take care of what’s mine.”

A wave of revulsion flowed through her at that, and she made no move to hide it. “I am not yours.”

“Well, if you’re not mine, you’re John’s. And I’d take care of what’s his, too.” He smiled cruelly.

“John is the one who did this to me,” she said stonily.

“Well, Johnny’s always played a little too rough with his toys. Something you might want to take into consideration.”

She continued to glare at him, but stayed silent.

#wip #my stuff #oc: patience ekner #wrathling

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Girl He Left Behind [Part Three]

Fandom: American Actor, RPF, Elvis Presley, Elvis Movie 2022

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Gladys Presley, Vernon Presley, Minnie May ‘Dodger’ Presley, Red West, Sonny West, Gene Smith, Billy Smith, Original Female Characters, Colonel Tom Parker, Billy Smith, Marci Cunningham, Steve Cunningham, Jerry Schilling, Mary Jenkins, Alan Fortas, Marty Lacker, Original Male Characters, Mona Goodwin, Joe Goodwin

Word Count: 3258 // Rating: Mature

Summary: When Elvis returns home to Graceland from the Army he’s followed by the headlines ‘The Girl He Left Behind’ but what the media don’t know is that Priscilla wasn’t the first. No, that title belongs to someone Elvis will never forget.

Tags/ Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Graceland, Poverty, Friends to Lovers, 1950s Elvis, Bad Parenting, Surprise Surprise the Colonel Is a Colossal Prick, Parental Loss, Grief, Fun Fairs, Kissing, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Movie Nights, Arguing, Tension, Denial of Feelings, Age Gap Romance, Underage, Addison is 17 Elvis is 22, Guilt, Betrayal, Extortion, Blackmail, Jealous, Army Elvis, American Draft, US Army, Lying, Time Shift with Elvis moving to Memphis, Flashbacks, Caught, 

Notes: This is a repost because the link on the masterpost doesn't work and I cant find the post anywhere x

LINK TO ALL PARTS // AO3 LINK // PINTEREST LINK

‘And this is your room,’ Elvis said as he led Addison into a room in the annexe. She wandered inside and dumped her suitcase on the bed as she looked around. It was small, made up of just a bed and a wardrobe but since she hadn’t got a lot of stuff to bring with her, she figured it didn’t really matter. Elvis watched her closely. She hadn’t said much on the drive over and he hadn’t pushed. You don’t get used to a big life change in five minutes he supposed but now he wanted her to speak. To say anything. Instead, her eyes remained unreadable. 

‘Thanks,’ she said quietly as she sat down on the bed. ‘The kitchen’s right by you so if there’s anything you want just help yourself,’ he said.  ‘Right,’ she nodded. ‘And Dodger’s down this end of the house so it’s not like you’ll be on your own or anything,’ he said. She nodded, ‘I mean she ain’t got the best hearin’ so if you do need her make sure you holler good and proper otherwise-’ ‘When do I start work?’ she asked making Elvis stop in his tracks. He looked at her and found her watching him nervously, chewing on her lip.  ‘Well, I mean there ain’t-’ ‘Because I meant what I said. I mean I’m grateful don’t get me wrong,’ she said, ‘but I wanna pay my way. I’m not a charity case. I wanna do my fair share.’ ‘Right, no, no, of course,’ Elvis said sitting down beside her, ‘um, how about we talk it through tomorrow?’ ‘So you’ve got time to make up exactly what you’re gonna have me doing?’ she said looking at him with a smirk. Elvis smiled and dropped his gaze bashfully.  ‘Nah, just so I can figure out what I can lump you with,’ he joked, ‘I mean the stables might need a clearing out.’ ‘Stables?’ she said, ‘fancy.’ ‘Hey, I’m still that same kid at heart.’ ‘Just flushed with cash now huh?’ she smirked. He smiled back at her watching the amusement in her eyes. It felt good to see her smile. ‘Hey now,’ he said, ‘I’d hate to have to dock your first pay packet for sassing the boss.’ ‘You say that as if my mouth hasn’t gotten me into trouble before,’ she replied. Elvis chuckled heartily which made her giggle. As their laughter died down, she looked at him, properly. 

‘I really am grateful you know,’ she said. Elvis could feel the heat of her gaze on him, but he didn’t turn away. She was watching him, somewhat shyly, and he tried to ignore the way that made his heart thump against his ribcage. ‘I know,’ he said in almost a whisper. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Instead, they just sat watching one another intently. Then they were pulled out the moment as they heard Gladys shouting for him. Elvis leapt up off the bed and moved to the bedroom door.  ‘I should go,’ he said, ‘let you get unpacked.’ ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘See you later,’ he said and then he was bolting out of the room to find his mama. Addison got up once he was out of the room and closed the door gently blocking out the sounds of him and his mama somewhere in the house. She looked around her new little room and then sat down on the bed. 

She couldn’t believe this was happening. It was insane. She knew that. 

‘Better than the alternative,’ her brain whispered. That was true. She would’ve only been able to keep treading water for so much longer. Then who knows what would happen? Living with the Presleys had to be better than that, right?

And, she mused, she couldn’t help but think how natural Elvis made it feel. As if he had this aura about him that made everyone feel safe and secure. And after a few crappy months, she couldn’t help but feel happy about that. 

✵✵✵

‘I just don’t see why she should become my problem all of a sudden. This was your idea,’ Gladys said folding her arms across her chest. Elvis stopped pacing for a moment and looked at her exasperatedly. They were in the upstairs office. Him, his mama and daddy and the Colonel who was watching on from his office chair, cigar in hand, observing quietly. 

‘Mama, please,’ he said, ‘we’ve been over this.’ ‘I know, I know,’ Gladys sighed, ‘she’s too young to be put on the official payroll blah blah blah.’ ‘We need to be seen as a legitimate business,’ the Colonel said taking a puff of his cigar. ‘Yeah well that sounds like a lot of hooey just so you’re not stuck mindin’ her,’ Gladys said narrowing her eyes at the Colonel who seemed unbothered.  ‘She don’t need mindin’ Gladys,’ Vernon said, ‘she’s seventeen.’ ‘Still young enough to be getting under my feet no doubt,’ Gladys said. Elvis sighed and came to sit on the arm of the chair his mother was sitting in.  ‘Mama please,’ he said with a sad smile, ‘she’s been through a lot. I mean I wouldn’t even have her workin’ if she didn’t insist on it. Can’t fault a girl who wants to earn her keep.’ ‘I s’pose,’ Gladys shrugged. ‘And you said yourself that you’re not as young as you used to be. A big house like this you need someone helping out…all I’m asking is that you keep her busy here and there. And that way she can help you out with the stuff you’ve been strugglin’ to do,’ Elvis said. Gladys looked at him peering down at her with his best puppy dog eyes. She could feel her resolve crumbling, the way it always did when it came to her son, so she sighed and said, ‘fine.’ ‘Thanks Satnin,’ Elvis said kissing the top of her head. 

Just as he did there was a knock at the door which Vernon got out of his seat to answer, finding Addison standing on the other side of it. She shifted a little, holding her arm across her locked onto her other elbow, waiting for one of them to speak. All eyes were on her.

‘Come in,’ Vernon said with a smile gesturing to the couch he had been sitting on. She smiled softly at Elvis as she entered and sat down as instructed, Vernon following after.  ‘Hey,’ Elvis said with a smile.  ‘Hi,’ she said, quickly following on to greet Gladys. Then she paused as she took in the Colonel who was watching her closely, his eyes narrowed, ‘uh hi…’ ‘Colonel Parker,’ the man said without a smile. Elvis rolled his eyes, ‘just call him Colonel. He’s my manager.’  ‘Oh, well, nice to meet you,’ she said quickly turning her gaze back to Elvis, ‘so what did you want me for? Mary sent me up here but she didn’t say-’ ‘Your job,’ the Colonel said cutting her off. ‘Oh, yeah, right,’ she said her eyes flicking between him and Elvis who immediately jumped in, ‘the Colonel and I were talking and we figured it’s better to have you do a job in house so to speak.’ ‘Okay,’ she nodded before following with, ‘what does that mean exactly?’ ‘That due to your age and well you being,’ the Colonel said trailing off as he gestured towards her vaguely. Addison glanced down at her feminine frame and then at Elvis and Vernon whose eyes seemed to be anywhere but on her. It was only at the aversion did she realise what the man was insinuating. She was being benched because she was a girl. Go figure. The Colonel however didn’t seem to notice, ‘well there’s not much we can have you do within Elvis Presley Enterprises.’

‘So how am I gonna pay Elvis back?’ she said looking at Elvis irately, ‘you promised I could pay my way.’ ‘I know,’ Elvis said, finally looking at her, ‘and like I said you don’t have to but until we can put you properly on the payroll you can help in other ways.’ ‘What does that mean?’ Addison asked, her brows knitting together. ‘That’ll you’ll be stuck with me,’ Gladys said with a forced smile, ‘I mean running the house. Mary takes care of most of the cooking and cleaning but it still needs someone to run the ship.’ ‘Right,’ Addison nodded. She wanted to bite back. To tell them that having her as some skivvy for his mama wasn’t exactly going to pay off whatever debt she owed but she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t need to rock the boat.  ‘That’s settled then,’ the Colonel said with a clap of his hands, ‘now boys I need to run over a couple of things with the pair of you.’

Addison looked up at the man who was sitting behind the desk and watched as Elvis and Vernon fell into line, getting themselves situated in front of him. Gladys stood up and headed to the door and though she didn’t say anything Addison felt the pull as if she was to follow. Once they were out of the room, and the door was firmly closed, Gladys started explaining a list of things she needed to remember. And as she listened to the reams of people, jobs and items she would have to account for she felt a wave of sadness flood in. 

She didn’t know why. That’s what people wanted right? Fancy houses with gardeners and cooks. To have to remember to book in someone to clean the pool. Or to not have to panic that one car was in the shop because hey what did it matter? There were four more parked in the garage. 

This life was what people dreamed of right? Maybe but as she tried to keep up with Gladys’ rules, she found herself missing her old life. Her old house. Her dad. It was barely twenty-four hours since she had opted to leave it and yet it felt further away than ever. 

✵✵✵

Over the next couple of weeks, Addison seemed to fall into a routine. She would wake and have breakfast before she caught the bus to school and then once school was out she’d come home and Gladys would give her a couple of jobs to do. They were never anything big, one day she just told her to make sure the basement fridge was stocked, but it was enough that she felt as though she was at least doing something to earn her place. Which was good because she’d taken to the place like a duck to water. She loved wandering the vast grounds, listening to records in the basement or cooking with Mary. In a short space of time, Graceland had very much become home. Yet she couldn’t help but feel disconnected from its residents. 

Gladys seemed to like having the help around the house, but she didn’t welcome her as Elvis did. And since she had come Elvis had hardly been home. The meeting he had had with the Colonel after they had fleshed out her role in the house was about the rest of his tour. As summer fell into fall, he was at the back end of a tour all over the southern states and the last few weeks had coincided with her coming to live with them. She didn’t mind. After all, she supposed it wasn’t as if he was her keeper. She was free to do as she pleased. But without him, it felt a little awkward. Like she was a plus one at a party and her date was nowhere to be seen. 

Which is why she supposed she was lucky to have some normalcy in her life even if it was school. For six hours a day, her crazy new world melted back into her old one. She went to her classes and had fun with her friends just as she had done before summer. Everything was as it was, and she liked that. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to last much longer. 

The bell had just rung, signalling not only the end of the school day but the end of the week. Addison gathered her things and headed to her locker to sort out what she would need for the weekend and to stow away what she wouldn’t. Then she met her friend Marci by her locker so they could head out towards the bus stop. 

‘What’s with the face?’ Addison chuckled as she took in the scowl on her friend’s face. ‘Mr Pearson sucks,’ Marci said as they walked down the path towards the gates. ‘He gave you a pop quiz too?’ Addison asked. ‘Worse he told us we were having a quiz on Monday,’ she said.  ‘Well at least you’ll have time to prepare,’ Addison said, unable to see the reasoning behind her friend’s grumbling.   ‘Yeah but now I know we’re gonna have one I can’t ignore it,’ she sighed, ‘I’m gonna have to spend my weekend revising.’ ‘We’re only like three weeks in,’ Addison said, ‘what could he expect you to revise?’ ‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘I just know my weekend’s gone to pot. What about you?’ ‘What about me?’ Addison asked. ‘What are you doing this weekend?’ Marci asked as if it were obvious.  ‘Oh… I don’t know,’ Addison said truthfully. Last weekend she had spent tiptoeing around Gladys and Dodger, doing activities that meant she didn’t have to spend too long with either of them. She didn’t figure this weekend would be any different.  ‘Well, if you want to help me study you can always…’ Marci said trailing off mid-sentence as her attention was caught by something, ‘what’s going on?’

Addison’s gaze followed hers to where a group of girls were clustered on the pavement and in the centre, Elvis. Addison groaned inwardly, there went her shred of normality. She said a hurried goodbye to Marci and then she stormed down the path until she was on the sidewalk, at the back of the group of girls. She could hear him talking to them as they fawned over him until finally, she broke through, amidst protests, and was standing in front of him.

‘Hey Addie,’ he said. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked irately. Elvis’ smile faded. ‘I came to pick you up from school,’ he said.  ‘I was getting the bus,’ she said. ‘Well now you don’t have to,’ he bit back.  ‘Addison do you know him?’ she heard someone say behind her, but she ignored them. ‘I don’t need you to pick me up,’ she said.  ‘Good thing I didn’t ask then isn’t it?’ he said, ‘excuse me, ladies.’  The crowd pulled back a bit as he moved away from her and round to the driver’s seat. He climbed in, watching her as he did as if challenging her to walk away. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, and she could hear whispers from all angles as they waited for her next move. Then, her head held high she opened the door of the car and slid inside. Elvis put the car in gear and pulled off leaving a trail of heartbroken onlookers. 

As they drove through the streets of Memphis, he kept glancing at her. She was looking out her side of the car, her gaze transfixed on the passing scenery. She looked different today, younger somehow. Maybe it was the fact he had been away for two weeks. Maybe it was that her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a ribbon around it and she was in a school uniform. Whatever it was it made Elvis feel odd. As did the way she had scowled at him when he had come to pick her up. He recalled the way her face had fallen upon spotting him there. Like she didn’t want anyone to know they were friends. That hurt him. 

After a few minutes of stony silence, Elvis decided he may as well piss her off completely and said, ‘so is the bus a better ride than the caddy or do you just have fun being pissed at me?’

She turned to glare at him which made him smirk. She’d got him all at odds with himself since the moment he had met her at the fair, so it felt good to get under her skin. 

‘I just wished you’d give me some warning that’s all,’ she said with a huff. ‘I thought having Elvis Presley pick you up from school was every teenage girl’s dream,’ he said, pulling his hands off the wheel just a touch to do a jazzy gesture around his own name. Addison rolled her eyes.  ‘Yeah, well maybe I’m not your average vapid teenage girl,’ she muttered. ‘Oh so you’re too good for me is that it?’ Elvis smirked raising his eyebrows. Addison folded her arms across her chest but said nothing. Elvis sighed, ‘look I didn’t mean to upset ya…. I just, well, I just didn’t think me picking you up from school would be such a big deal that’s all.’ ‘No, you just thought you’d show all my friends how my life’s become some fairy-tale right?’ Addison said looking at him cockily. Elvis ran his tongue along his teeth with a huff. So much for him being the one to get under her skin. She definitely gave as good as she got. ‘Okay, okay,’ he said holding his hands up, ‘so maybe I was hoping for a better reaction I’m man enough to admit it. As long as you’re willing to admit that me not telling you I was coming is not what’s got you so pissed.’

Addison watched him for a moment. He couldn’t look at her properly as he had to keep his eyes on the road, but he noticed as her face softened and the hardened scowl disappeared. 

‘Okay maybe,’ she said tentatively.  ‘So, what is it?’ he asked. Addison shrugged.  ‘I don’t know…I guess I just liked that school was the only part of my life that was still the same y’know?’ Elvis nodded. He got that more than he could admit.  ‘Well, I’m sorry I ruined it,’ Elvis said, ‘I didn’t mean it.’ ‘Sorry I was so pissed,’ she smiled. ‘I’m starting to think that’s your default setting,’ Elvis chuckled making her smile grow wider.  ‘Maybe you’re just good at pissing me off,’ she challenged making Elvis bark a laugh. They fell quiet for a moment, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like the kind of silence you have with those you’ve known forever. Elvis enjoyed that feeling. 

After a minute or so Addison decided to break the silence. 

‘So…’ she said quietly waiting for Elvis to look at her, ‘why exactly did you want to pick me up today?’  ‘I dunno,’ Elvis shrugged, ‘I mean it’s the weekend. I’m finally back home. I figured that we could do something.’ ‘Like what?’ she asked.  ‘Anything,’ he laughed. They were pulling into Graceland now which was thankfully deserted out front. Elvis pulled up and turned the ignition off, pocketing the key. Neither of them moved to get out instead they sat back against the seating just watching one another.

‘I don’t know,’ she said after a moment. ‘Well how about me and the guys give you some suggestions?’ Elvis asked, receiving a nod in reply, ‘because as annoying and unreal as this world can be. It’s pretty fun.’ ‘I bet,’ she said with a smirk.

#my writing #elvis and addison #the girl he left behind #elvis presley #elvis presley fic #elvis #elvis fic #elvis presley x addison goodwin #elvis x ofc #elvis presley x ofc

[romirola]

youre a big redacted blog and i was just wondering what you think about the burn out posting thing a lot of blogs are talking about?

Hi, Anon! Thanks so much for reaching out with a question. I don’t think ‘big blogs’ exist in the Redactedverse fandom. If they did, I wouldn’t consider myself to be one of them. I’m happy to have a place to share my fanfics and headcanons with the fandom while getting to access everyone else’s fanfics, fanart, headcanons, playlists, and ideas. I enjoy the community of creativity of this space. It’s not often that I have a stake in anything else that happens to be going on in tumblr-land. Frankly, as you’ll see from my answer, I don’t have a stake in this answer, either, but I’m presuming that you’re asking this question from a genuine place of curiosity and community, so I will answer to the best of my limited abilities from my limited perspective. 

I’m not familiar with the ‘burn out posting thing’ to which you refer, but I think I can gather what you mean based on how I post my own fanfics. I’m flattered you think I have my finger on the pulse of the fandom, but alas, I do not. If you’re looking for me to agree or to disagree with anyone else or to respond directly to something you’ve seen, I’m afraid you’re looking in the wrong place. I’m the first to admit that I have very few skills, but something I do very well is ignore posts that don’t bring me joy, whether that by blocking or simply letting my eyes skim over posts without comprehending or engaging with them. I certainly am willing to talk with and to listen to others in private conversations, but that's not anything I'd broadcast here. I am but a simple, predictable Romi. 

I’ll respond as best I can to your question, but before I do, I first want to pause to offer some statements that I hope are obvious, but I feel must be included in conversations regarding writing, writing processes, authorial mindsets, etc.. Every writer writes for different reasons. Every person holds different opinions. Everyone has a different comfort level and means to move through the world happily and safely. I write for my own reasons. I hold my own opinions. I know my comfort level and seek to preserve my own happiness and safety. I can only speak for myself because I’m all I know. If other writers/artists/creators hold differing or contrasting opinions, that is perfectly valid and they are all deserving of respect and courtesy. In no way, shape, or form should my answer (or anything I post) be construed as invalidating, attacking, or otherwise negative towards anyone or any works. 

If you’re still here and still interested, Anon, I’ll share my thoughts under the cut… 

As a writer, I love it when people engage with my work. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I love when people leave comments on AO3. I love when people leave kudos on AO3. I love when people bookmark on AO3. I love when people reblog and add comments/tags on Tumblr. I love when people reblog without saying anything on Tumblr. I love when people reply to my posts on Tumblr. I love when people like my posts on Tumblr. I love when people ask to be added to a taglist on Tumblr. I love when people send me DMs on Tumblr. I love when people (signed or anonymously) drop by my inbox on Tumblr. I love when people read my work anywhere. 

All that said, I don’t write for comments/kudos/bookmarks/reblogs/DMs/asks. I write because I enjoy writing. Otherwise, and I mean this in a loving, kind way, I would be giving you people way too much power over my life. 

I write because I enjoy writing. I post my writing because I enjoy sharing my work. 

I adore a lot about the Redactedverse. You can tell from my work that I’ve got preferences regarding characters, storylines, genres, etc. I tend toward writing longer fics, though I’ve also got oneshots. I tend towards hurt/comfort and drama, but I’ve also got fluff and humor. I’ve got stories that mix up characters, prequels, AUs… For the most part, I like to write about my favorite characters and explore the storylines I think would be interesting, plausible, and compelling. Sometimes, I write gift-fics for people (for a variety of reasons) or I solicit prompts from anyone. Even when I write those stories for others, it still is (it has to be!) my own conceptions of the characters, plotlines, dialogue lines, etc, that drive the work. I’m thrilled to have the chance to show my love to people through my writing. Overall, my hope is that there’s something for everyone contained in my (still growing!) catalog of fics, but whether or not it does isn’t something I can control. What I can control is that I enjoy the stories I write and that I’m proud of the way I created plots, presented the characters, captured their voices, and constructed the stories. It’s fun to see my work live on AO3 so that I can reread it whenever I want. I do that frequently.

Like I said earlier in this post, though, I do welcome and cherish any and all feedback on my work. I think I value that feedback, in whatever form it comes, precisely because the feedback comes unmandated, unregulated, and otherwise without expectations. People make the choice to speak up and let me know they read my work, not because they have to, but because they want to. I wish I could fully articulate how incredibly special that makes me feel as a writer. 

Mandating reblogs, asking for a certain number of comments, or something similar to that line of thinking that, for me and my approach to writing, would be dangerous. It takes the fun out of all the feedback that is freely left. Feedback isn’t a toll readers pay to access my work. I would never want to impose that, even if I had some way to enact such a bizarre construction.

Do I hope that people will, somehow in some way, choose to engage with me when they read my work? You bet I do. That’s why I respond to every comment I get on AO3. That’s why I respond to every reblog with comments/tags or replies on Tumblr. That’s why I keep my inbox open. I want to show my undying, overflowing gratitude when people choose to take that extra step by letting me know they liked what they read and, by reblogging, help more people see my work. It’s a true gift. That’s why I like to say thanks. Not only that, I’ve met some WONDERFUL fandom friends by replying to a comment, which turns into discussing characters, which turns into a string of DMs, and poof! Friendship achieved that includes but reaches beyond fandom. I hope everyone reading this has the chance to experience such joy in life. 

As much as I enjoy receiving feedback, I also know blogs don’t exist in a vacuum. There are people on the other side of those usernames (Except the bots! Report and block those bastards!) Sometimes, people get way too anxious to be able to leave a comment. All they can do is kudo. Even though I don’t share that sentiment, I understand it. Sometimes, people aren’t ready to reblog something because they don’t want to showcase a certain fandom/subject/kink/preference/whatever on their blog, whether out of embarrassment, peer pressure, or real concerns for irl safety. Instead, they like the post. Again, that’s not a challenge I face, but I acknowledge it’s a possibility for many. Sometimes, people miss seeing work because of how dashboards are organized. It happens. Sometimes, people just don’t like my stories or headcanons, so they certainly would choose not to interact with my work. That’s completely and totally fine, too! There are SO many reasons or circumstances that hinder someone's ability to interact. It's not my job (or prerogative) to create meaning out of someone's lack of interaction.

Moreover, I’m not just a writer in this fandom. I’m a reader, too. I read a lot of the fanfic on Tumblr and AO3. As you might already know, Anon (depending on who you are and how observant you are), I often reblog and comment when I like someone’s fic and/or want to support an author's work. I love spreading the word about people’s cool texts! I like knowing that I’m making an author’s day by engaging with their work. Same goes for art, headcanons, playlists, and the other cool Redactedverse stuff people create and share. At no time am I, however, required to engage with those works at all. The fact that I choose to engage is an example of my exercising my choice, not reciprocating out of obligation. Sometimes, I miss stuff. That doesn’t mean I purposefully refrained from commenting. Other times, I heavily disagree with the interpretations/ideas, so I opt not to engage. 

I need the space and grace to have agency over how, when, and where I leave feedback. It’s only fair I offer everyone else that same space and grace. I don’t want to feel pressure to leave feedback. It’s only fair I make sure I don’t pressure anyone else to leave feedback on my work. 

It’s worth mentioning that when it comes to promoting my own work, I don’t hesitate to do so. I always make sure that I’m my biggest fan. That works out well, because I’m an attention-seeking showoff. It is my hope that every creator can say truthfully, “I’m my biggest fan.”  I promote to my heart's content, but I cannot, in good faith, foist my work on anyone.

So, I think all of that is context for how I approach this idea of your phrase ‘burn out posting thing.’ Have I noticed a decline in engagement with my own work? For sure I have. Perhaps it’s a Redactedverse trend. Perhaps it’s a fandom trend more broadly. (I have no data to back up either of those guesses.) While I’d love a sudden upswing in engagement, I think there’s nothing much I can do to generate that. Instead, I’d rather use that time and effort writing and posting more fanfics. 

It’s fun for me to create. It’s fun for me to know that I created something that didn’t exist before. That’s why, as of this moment, I don’t see an end in sight when it comes to my fic writing. I certainly will continue to write at my own pace which, as I’ve said many times, is slow. I’ll write fics that I will want to read, featuring characters I want to read about, plotlines I want to explore, with a word-count that suits me.

I mean it when I say, in every story-note, I welcome and cherish any and all feedback on my work. I suppose that whether that feedback comes in the form of a flood or a drip-drop, I take solace in the knowledge that each and every piece of feedback I receive was freely given to me. 

My answer was probably way longer than you ever wanted, Anon. I hope I answered your question, however long-winded my answer might be. If I didn’t, you are welcome to reach out with follow up questions or concerns. 

For anyone else who happened to read, I hope you got something positive out of reading this post.

As always, thanks for reading!

#thank you!

[killian-whump]

Five Posts I Hate:

#1: This blog is safe for ________.

Like, my blog isn’t dangerous for anyone, aside from fictional characters played by Colin O’Donoghue. It is literally safe for everyone and anyone else. Saying your blog is a safe place for [fill in the blank] kinda implies there are people / groups / individuals that your blog is NOT safe for. And that just leaves me wondering if you’ve got booby traps laid around the place or something. I suppose it would make sense if the blank was filled with “minors” or “work” but I can’t even remember the last time I saw someone post either of those - as that seems more like something you’d put in your header if it was important enough that you wanted people to actually see it when they come to your blog. Otherwise, it would just be pointless one-time posturing, wouldn’t it?

#2: Unfollow me if you ________.

Well, that’s just not how any of this works. Content creators of any kind don’t get to dictate who consumes their content, let alone based on arbitrary things like their personal / political / religious views. I mean, if you have a real beef with someone specific, you can block them, but you can’t ask people to self-censor your content from their view because something they do / believe is unappealing to you. Hitler himself could reanimate his corpse just to quietly follow your blog and there is nothing you can do to stop that motherfucker’s eyeballs from devouring every post you make - short of not making those posts.

Mind you, if people are doing it for the viewer’s benefit (say a whump blog warning folks, “Don’t follow me if you faint at the sight of blood”) then that’s another thing entirely. In that case, you’re warning people that if they ignore your warning, it’s at their own risk. Otherwise, it’s basically saying, “Punish yourself for holding this belief that I find abhorrent” and, like, no one’s going to do that? Why would they? Why should they? It’s 20-fucking-23 and it has always been true that people you don’t like are going to consume and even enjoy your content. Get over it.

#3: Reblog this to show you care about _______.

Fuck you. Just... fuck you. I care about whatever I care about, and it’s my business what those things are. I share them if I want to share them. I leave them unspoken if I want to leave them unspoken. NO ONE should ever assume people care about or don’t care about things based on what they post (or don’t post) on their little internet blog. I could care about an issue with the power of a thousand suns and I still won’t reblog a post that contains this wording or anything like it, because fuck you for implying that anyone who doesn’t reblog your shitty ass do-nothing post on the interwebs doesn’t care about whatever it is your post is about. Seriously. Fuck off with that shit.

#4: Vote for ________.

I’m as apolitical as they come, but I’m all for politically-minded people encouraging others to get out there and vote. I even think it’s great when celebrities support those kinds of messages. I DON’T like it when non-voters are shunned or not voting is treated like an invalid choice for citizens to make, but I’m 100% for people reminding others when an important election is near and giving positive encouragement to take part in the process.

But such messages stop being okay the moment someone starts telling people who to vote for. Now you’re no longer trying to get others actively involved in the electoral process - now you’re trying to game the system by increasing the number of votes your chosen candidate receives. Adding those few words has now turned your entire post into nothing more than political propaganda. EVERY individual has the right - and the responsibility - to vote for whichever options THEY feel are best, NOT the ones YOU feel are best. Encouraging others to read up on all of the issues, candidates, and offices involved is responsible citizenship. Telling them to go vote for your candidate because you said so is utter bullshit.

#5: Tag five friends / blogs...

How ‘bout I tag NOBODY, so I don’t give five people warm fuzzies at the cost of everyone else’s feelings? How ‘bout I tag NOBODY, so everybody can decide whether they want to take part in whatever shenanigans the post is up to? How ‘bout I do whatever the fuck I want and you stop telling me what to do?

#about me #tumblr #blog #kw writes a thing

[kaidabakugou]

♡ RULES & BEFORE YOU FOLLOW ♡

♡ all characters are considered adults, and all hate regarding this will be ignored and blocked

♡ my readers are female because it’s what i’m comfortable with but everything else is kept neutral to fit most audiences

♡ this blog contains and interacts with dark content

♡ this blog contains spoilers

♡ my drabbles don’t usually have warnings in them unless i really think it should have them

♡ events, collabs, and works that are longer than 1k will have warnings on them and will be tagged appropriately, if you think i missed any please send me and ask and i’ll be happy to fix it

♡ if you don’t like the content, keep your thoughts to yourself, your opinion is unwanted

♡ i do not take requests, unless stated otherwise. if i ever decide i need inspiration i will make a post about it

♡ thirsts, suggestions & ideas are always welcomed so feel free to send an ask

♡ minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. if you follow me i will check and if there’s no age indicator or reblogs in your page i will block you

♡ don’t repost, share or recommend me on any platform

♡ lastly this is just a writting blog, i do this for fun, to share my thoughts and writing, and to interact and make friends with other wonderful people so if you don’t like the content, again don’t interact

#blog rules #byf #about me #byf/dni #blog post #blog updates #writing blog #navigation #kai.blog #maintenance #blog maintenance #default rnbyf

[softlyfiercely]

sorry I’m not over this yet. I am so tired of seeing people on tumblr make fun of other people for having “icky” interests or hobbies. I hate the way people talk about “gross freaks” or “shameful sex” or “who even likes that lol” or “something is wrong with them” as if they’re confident that no one who that applies to could possibly be listening.

Well…we are. We’re here on this website (and your discord servers btw) hanging out with you and our nasty gross little freak feelings do get hurt when we are just minding our own business and then see someone casually use us as a punchline or imply that they’d prefer not to share a society with us or that our media preferences are inherently wrong.

Anti kink terf swerf whatevers - at least I can mostly avoid them, and ignore them, because they’ve got this entire belief system i find abhorrent. But when someone who otherwise shares my interests and who I like and respect just casually drops a “[people like me] should all be in prison” well it’s not very nice

And I know a lot of it is hyperbole, jokes, whatever. But that kind of makes it worse? Like why are people with (my) specific hobbies or interests suddenly the casual, conversational target of cruelty? I’d really prefer for there not to be a category of “people it’s okay to bully in the name of having something to say”

Also, even the people in the notes of that mafia romance post trying to explain or defend it were doing so from this distant, third person, almost anthropological way. It’s frankly condescending. No one speaking up saying “actually I like this, because it’s fun for me, and that’s okay.” Gee I wonder why.

I’m tired of all the brainrot on here about whether ao3 should be illegal or whether anyone who likes XYZ kink is committing thought crime or which specific sexual minority or fiction genre is NastyBad today. Some people actually believe it and others have just ambiently picked up on the notion that oh, okay, we’re making fun of THESE people now.

Maybe just chill out and accept that other people like stuff that you don’t. You don’t have to see the appeal. You don’t have to understand it. You don’t have to click on our ao3 tags. But you also don’t have to start acting like our very existence is funny - at best - and horrifying and dangerous. Chill the fuck out and let people enjoy things.

#I’ve been made fun of for my hobbies and interests my entire life #you’re not funny or righteous you’re just a bully #if you’d never make fun of someone for being really into moss or comics or Mesopotamian history #maybe consider not treating other interests as acceptable targets for nastiness #i read mafia romance and I vote

[time-is-restored]

WIP GAME

(aka my wips are eating me out of house and home for the love of god someone Help Me-)

tagged by @/trentcrimminallybeautiful! if ur seeing this and you'd like to join in, then consider this me tagging you, too!

Rules: in a new post w/ rules attached, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIP’s; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write three sentences in that file. If the file name is one you can’t share (for example, an event fic), write three sentences on it anyway, and then write three more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join, or just post.

so, five most recent file names:

TRENT: KILL (Ted Lasso)

BEARD AND [redacted] GET RUSSIAN DOLL-ED (Ted Lasso)

Trent Crimm Analysis Shit (Ted Lasso)

Stage play Dream Sacrifice (Ted Lasso)

fucked up and evil persona bad end (Persona 5 Royal)

would love to say this is the totality of my TL wips but actually the fourth file has like. a good ten or so snippets from other concepts + scenes also floating around in there so unfortunately i just Live Like This. trent crimm becoming a regular did something irreversible to my brain </3

and here's the snippet, from the second WIP!

Ted gasps again. Beard ignores him. So, apparently, does Roy. “Alright. What the fuck’s code blue, then? ‘S’at for Man City or something?”

Several undignified seconds pass where Beard cannot fathom why Roy would possibly think he was talking to him about football. 

“...What? No. Code Blue- Coach,” he looks behind him, throws some appropriately befuddled eyebrow movements in his direction, “how does he not know about Code Blue?” 

Ted tilts his head to the side. He’s smiling, and doesn’t look the least bit thrown. Fucking improv practice. “Probably because it’s a code you and I came up with on our lonesomes, and we’ve yet to pen any manifestos espousing its utility to the masses?” 

Beard takes a moment to process that. “Yeah, okay.” Swings back round to Roy. Lowers his hand, which is still tired from the rowing, and folds his arms across his chest. “Code Blue’s our ‘no questions asked’ code.” 

“For when you’ve just witnessed the start of a zombie apocalypse, or an alien invasion- anything that’d have your buddy looking for hidden cameras, otherwise.” Ted chimes in, diligently steering Roy’s attention back to him. Beard passingly wonders what his plans are for unscrewing Beard’s professional reputation. Knowing him, it almost certainly involves too much whisking. Fucking Lasso. “Cuts out any time wasted with the whole ‘aw, honey, I’m sure it was just a trick of the light’ routine - which is patronising as all get out as far as counter-arguments go, so I’d like to think our attempts at debunks would be little more nuanced either way- but that’s besides the point.”

“There’s a point?” Roy says, eyebrows creeping even higher. 

“Sure!” Ted says, cheerily. “The point in question: if someone calls Code Blue, you don’t argue. It’s sacred.” There’s a pause. “Hey, wait a minute, that first bit rhymed!” 

“No questions asked,” Beard cuts in before Ted can start work-shopping a couplet, nodding once, firmly.

“No! Questions! Asked!” Ted echoes, punctuating each word with an enthusiastic rap on his desk. 

#alas i cheated a little bit [redacted] is not part of the file name but i wanted to keep it a bit of a surprise wrt who beard gets paired up #w LOL #also this ask forced me to finish a half-written sentence from this very section so it's already done its job o7 to the hero who created it #mine #my writing

[noodle-shenaniganery]

Hello. I wanted to know if something I experience is common or not, so that’s essentially what this post is about.

Okay, so, I’m an autistic person who can mask and does not have any mobility aids, physical disabilities, etc. that would make people assume I’m autistic or disabled. In other words, I would not be considered visibly autistic. I am also white (I think. My skin is considered white, but I’m technically Latino and the debate around all of this kind of stuff is really confusing to me. Any explanations would be great).

I’ve seen a lot of people, mostly in terms of people of color or those with visible disabilities, talk about/share instances where people did things like stare at them in a weird way, go to the other side of the street when they see them (especially East Asian people, with the whole pandemic situation), talk to them in strange ways, refuse to make eye contact, ask intrusive questions, etc. These are often labeled as microaggressions, and, as I understand it, can essentially ruin their day and/or make them feel unsafe, unwelcome, and have a lot of negative impacts on their mental health.

Problem is that I do some of these things, but for completely different reasons (for example: I’m not crossing the street because you’re an Asian person, I’m crossing the street because you’re a person, and being physically near other human beings gives me immense stress. But I understand how you could think otherwise. If I do this to someone who isn’t a minority in a visble way, they’ll probably just think I’m weird). I do them to pretty much everyone. But I’m really worried that I’ll end up negatively impacting someone by doing these things. I don’t want to cause anyone to feel unsafe, unwelcome, unloved, etc. I don’t know how to communicate this or prevent this (any advice would be greatly appreciated).

Alright, now, the point is: do any other autistic/neurodivergent/disabled people feel this way, too? This likely mostly applies to those who can mask/aren’t visibly disabled, but anyone and everyone is welcome to join.

If I said anything ignorant or problematic, please let me know in very literal language (avoid sarcasm, exaggerations, etc.). I hope you have a nice day. :)

#autism #autism spectrum #autism spectrum disorder #asd #actually autistic #actually disabled #actually neurodivergent #autistic #disabled #neurodivergent #I’m honestly just tagging whatever I can think of that might apply #racism #discrimination #microaggressions #ableism #masking #poll #please share any opinions you have about this #I want to know stuff and hear from marginalized groups #visibly disabled #invisible disability #invisibly disabled #visible disability #I just want to be nice to people

[verdantvulpus]

Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude but I don’t think life updates should be posted to ao3. Since you have a patreon you can make a public post and share that! Plus that will get people who follow you to take a peak at your patreon. :) I know you don’t mean anything bad by it, but ao3 should really be for fanworks and most people who support your work are probably following you on some form of social media anyway. ^^

Anon, I know this was well-intentioned,so I will address the issues you have brought up as I understand them. I have a lot of subscribers who don't follow VerdantVulpus on socials - I know this, because I see their names in my comments, but not on twitter/tumblr/insta and more to the point, I’ve been explicitly told so by subscribers on ao3 asking me to post the twitter Book! Boys RP as a fic because they’re not on socials. There are a lot of people who honestly can’t stand social media. My only means of communicating with all of my subscribers is to do so via ao3.

 I'm making an assumption that the personal post you are referencing was my Fall update. I hope that’s the case anyway because otherwise I’m completely confused. I admit I did share a bit of personal information in that post but the majority of it was focussed on filling my subscribers in on my intentions for the season and assure them that I will be once again providing content after a very lengthy hiatus.That post was also tagged and summarised so I doubt anyone would have mistook it for a fic and could have easily ignored it.

I’m sure you've had the experience of reading a WIP that goes on hiatus and the author posts an update explaining what's up; that's all I was trying to accomplish, in a way that would be available to my regular readers since. 

I completely understand your view of ao3 as a fandom space. It is a wonderful source of fan art and fanfiction that just keeps on giving. However, the  site is also open to “fully original, non-fanfiction content, hosting over 185,000 such original works as of 25 October 2022,” according to their wikipedia page. I definitely looked this up back when I had frail desperate dreams of writing my own shit. Ah sweet summer days. Anyway, basically Archive of Our Own allows writers to publish any content, so long as it is legal.

As for your suggestion about making a public patreon post and linking to that, I’m

Also I'm fairly sure posting a link to my Patreon is a violation of ao3's rules otherwise I'd definitely do that. Like all the time!

It's a  might be a bit easier to justify if it's art (basically, the legal definition of "fair use" is applied more broadly to art than to writing) but regardless, posting a link to a Patreon or kofi on ao3 is a good way to get my work reported and taken down. I did go double check this to be sure and, yeah, I’m not allowed to mention or link to Patreon at all, regardless of how it's phrased, which is why I will be jogging back over to my go over my recent updates because I maaaay have around that and need to fix it immediately.

Anyway, thank you for reaching out with your pov. I don’t tend to make posts of that nature and when I do I usually intend to remove them within a week, but forgot to do so in this case so I appreciate the reminder.