#you pick a stupid name and live with the consequences forever everyone on the internet knows that by now

[pepplemint]

sorry bts fans trying to tell me that Rap Monster changed his name so I shouldn't call him that You don't give yourself a nickname as embarrassing as Rap Monster and not live with it for eternity I love it

#dont try to compare this to changing yoyr actual name its not even close to the same thing #nicknames and psuedonyms r just like that #you pick a stupid name and live with the consequences forever everyone on the internet knows that by now #fruktstund

[jeranasblog]

Caught in the Spider’s Web

Rating: E

Pairing: Peter Parker/ Tony Stark

Summary: Omega Peter is obsessed with famous Alpha Tony Stark since he was a little kid and he does everything to get close to the billionaire. When he finally gets the opportunity to get to know Tony better, Peter starts his manipulation and seduces the Alpha into his bed. Thankfully, everyone around him thinks he's cute and innocent, so it's even easier to catch Tony in his web.

Line Prompt for @twokinkybeans​: "It only takes a blowjob to fall in love." This challenge is amazing, ty beans <3 

Warnings: Slight dubcon? Both of them want it, but Peter is still manipulating Tony. For further warnings (especially smut) check Ao3

Words: 7160

Read on Ao3

Peter Parker had admired Tony Stark since he was a little boy. In the beginning, it had been hero-worshipping. Iron Man was a legend, and the man behind the mask even more. Peter had bought little action figures, had decorated his walls with posters, and watched every single interview on TV. Tony Stark was an impressive Alpha, broad shoulders, protective aura and Peter had never understood why he had wasted his time with Pepper Potts, a plain and boring Beta.

But the older Pete got, the more obsessed he became. He spent his mornings looking at photos of Iron Man online, fingering himself while he pictured the Alpha’s muscular arms caging him in. The day Tony left Pepper was one of the best in Peter’s life and he had imagined for weeks how he would cheer the billionaire up, imagined that he could replace the empty space in Tony Stark’s heart.

During his first heat, Peter refused the help of an Alpha. He had plenty of options, eager young students that wanted to wreck such an innocent-looking Omega, but Peter wanted to save himself for Iron Man. No one else deserved his virginity, so he made do with his own fingers, thinking about himself bouncing on Tony Stark’s cock.

Years passed and Peter’s obsession only grew. He got older, became even more handsome, even more fragile looking and lots of Alphas tripped over their feet to woo Peter Parker, cutest Omega in Queens. But he turned all of them down. There was only one Alpha, only one person good enough for him.

Sadly, Peter had never met Tony Stark before. He had imagined how their first encounter would go, how easily he could enchant the Alpha with his soft looks and innocent eyes. He worked years to get finally close to the other man. Peter invested his entire energy into studying and became soon the best of his class. With fifteen, he graduated high school and applied to MIT. Three years later, he hadn’t only gotten his bachelor’s degree, he also held a letter of Stark Industries in his hands. Soon, he would be the youngest intern in the history of SI, soon he would be close to Mr. Stark.

Peter knew it was very unlikely he would meet the billionaire on his first day of work, but he was disappointed, nevertheless. A boring Alpha had shown him around, drooling over Peter and it took all his willpower to hold back his disdain. Instead, he had smiled sweetly and asked questions to appear interested. He needed a plan to get closer to Mr. Stark and before that, he shouldn’t do anything he could regret later.

His approach to get closer was based on his intelligence. Tony had once said during an interview that he preferred his partners smart and witty, and Peter planned to use the information. He stayed in the lab longer than everyone else, worked harder and harder to get the recognition he needed until one day, he finally got the opportunity he desperately needed.

Everything started when Pepper Potts, still Tony’s CEO, entered the lab, loudly arguing with an unimportant Alpha at her side. Peter had wanted to hate her first, but she was still one of Tony’s closest friends, and there was no way the Alpha would like him if Peter displeased her. After a while, he could even see that Pepper had no more romantic feelings for Tony, and his instincts to fight her were eased a little.

“We don’t need it in a week,” Pepper yelled and the pathetic excuse of an Alpha flinched. “We need it tomorrow. And there’s no way Tony can fix it until tomorrow. The investors are gonna pull back their offers.”

Peter pretended to be busy while he was actually eavesdropping. “I-I’m sorry, M-Mrs. Potts,” the Alpha’s voice was wavering, and Peter suppressed a snort. How could Pepper give responsibilities to such a weakling? “I told him a week ago, but he didn’t listen.”

Pepper was slowly losing her temper. “You told him once while he was tinkering. What did you expect? Him throwing everything aside to listen to you.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter wouldn’t wonder if the Alpha started to cry.

“You’re sorry? You're not the one explaining to the investors why the battery of the Stark Phone explodes occasionally. I have to live with the consequences.” Pepper fumed and Peter had to admit that she was feisty, for a Beta. “When the temperature is above ninety degrees, they sometimes blow up. Do you think the investors will like this?”

Peter froze. He didn’t focus on the Alpha flinching under her harsh words anymore, instead he thought about Pepper’s words. He knew about the problems with the Stark Phone, knew for a long time they would explode if they got too hot. Peter had assumed someone had already eliminated the mistake, but apparently, no one had. Suddenly, his entire body started buzzing. He knew how to get rid of the problem and this was his chance to get what he wanted.

“I know why they explode, and I could help eliminating the issue.” Pepper and the Alpha were staring at him, Pepper with curiosity and the Alpha with disgust.

“I don’t think an Omega could help,” the Alpha belittled him, and Peter clenched his hands to fist to stop his anger from spilling. He had to stay calm and play his cards right.

Thankfully, Pepper took over before Peter did anything he would regret later. “Since you’ve fucked up anyway, I’m willing to try everything to fix this thing.” Peter couldn’t stop himself from smirking at the Alpha. “What’s your name.”

“Peter Parker, Ma’am.”

“Peter, I’ll give you a few minutes with Tony. If you convince him you can fix the mistake, we’ll pay you a bonus.”

Oh, if she knew. A few minutes with Tony Stark were so much more valuable for him than any extra cash. This was everything he had ever dreamed of. Five minutes to convince Tony Stark that he was worth spending time with. Suddenly, Peter felt nervous. The direction of his entire life would depend on the encounter with the billionaire and he would do anything to make a good impression on the Alpha.

He smiled kindly at Pepper and followed her to the elevator. She was tense and stressed out, but he could also see the hope in her eyes. If he did everything right, she would be forever thankful and that’s exactly what he needed from her. Her first impression of him was important.

 Tony Stark’s lab was impressive. It was nothing compared to the intern lab Peter worked in, even though all of SI’s rooms were well equipped. The Omega swallowed when he entered the room and marveled at the expensive equipment that was scattered all over the floor. From a hidden spot in the corner, Peter could hear a loud crash followed by a few curse words.

“Tony, come out for a second,” Pepper called the genius and Peter held his breath when the Alpha approached them.

He was handsome, even more handsome than he was in the million pictures that were all over the internet. Tony was wearing jeans and a black tank top, his muscular arms on display. Peter could barely stop himself from purring and he ogled the oil strains on the billionaire’s forearms. Tony Stark looked like a model from the cover of “Alpha’s Health” and Peter wanted nothing more than to claim the man as his. But there was still a long way to go.

Suppressing his arousal, Peter smiled innocently at the Alpha and ducked his head. The gesture was a submissive one, giving Tony the illusion, he was in control. Peter watched in excitement that Tony was looking him up and down, his pupils dilating a little. He could see a faint gleam in the billionaire’s eyes, making it obvious that the man liked what he saw.

“As much as I like lovely company, Peps, why are you bringing me a young Omega? I have to work on the Stark Phone issue.” The words made Peter heat up in arousal and he covered his body reaction with an innocent blush. He wanted to jump the billionaire, wanted to ride him, claim him and bounce on his knot, but he would be nothing more than an easy fling if he misplayed the situation. Instead, he focused on looking bashfully.

“Tony, this is Peter Parker. He’s one of our new interns,” Pepper explained while she was already halfway leaving the room. “I’m sorry, but he claims he knows the source of the problem with the phones and at the moment, we need any help we could get.”

Before Tony could assume that he was a stupid Omega with attention issues, Peter took the lead. “It was very thoughtful of Miss Potts to bring me here. I’ve actually detected the mistake a few weeks ago and just assumed someone had already fixed it. My apologies.”

“That’s my cue,” Pepper barged in, giving the billionaire no time to complain. “I actually have a call scheduled with the investors. I’ll pick Mr. Parker up in an hour. Don’t kill him, Tony.”

The Alpha grumbled when she left, and Peter took a deep breath to get his nerves back under control. This was it. This was the moment he had always waited for. The Tony Stark stood in front of him and if he made a fool out of himself now, there was no chance for his plan to ever work out. He had to be clever, smart, and irresistible.

Peter gave him another sweet smile and the bobbing of Tony’s throat showed him that he should try the innocent approach further. The billionaire was certainly reacting to him acting bashfully.

“All right, Peter.” The Alpha didn’t even ask if he was allowed to use his first name. “I’m pretty busy, but I’ll give you a chance to show me where the problem is coming from.”

These words coming from any other Alpha would have offended Peter, but since he was talking to Tony Stark, he let the casual use of his first name slip. This was his chance to prove himself and he wouldn’t sabotage his goals because someone was underestimating him. He would show the billionaire what he had worked for.

“Do you have a Stark Phone here?” Tony nodded and led him to the other end of the lab where the billionaire had been before. Peter used the time to get a good look at his ass. It was muscular and round, perfect to dig his nails into when Stark was fucking him through the mattress. The thought made Peter shiver and he took a deep breath, containing himself and focused on the task on hand.

“The solution is pretty simple,” Peter explained while he stepped next to the Alpha in front of the workbench. He came a little too close, so Tony would pick up a hint of his scent. Peter knew Alpha’s went wild for his smell, he had tons of unworthy men going crazy for him, and he always knew how to use his assets right. Out of the corner of his eyes, Peter could see Tony’s nostrils flare, clearly not unaffected from the scent, but otherwise, the Alpha stayed calm.

Before he could lose himself further in the thought, Peter picked up the faulty Stark Phone and opened the case with a small screwdriver. He disconnected a few wires to take out the battery and laid the electronics of the phone open.

“I’ve actually detected it when I was working on increasing the storage capacity. Do you see the solder joint here? First of all, it’s too big and the material was a bad choice. When it gets hot, the solder joint will melt again and possibly cause a short circuit. That’s the reason why the battery can but doesn’t have to blow up when the phone gets too hot.”

Tony stared at him amazed before he threw back his head and started laughing. The sound was deep and full, rushing immediately into Peter’s cock and he had to bite his own lips to stop his hole from slicking up. There was no way the Alpha wouldn’t notice him getting wet and it wasn’t the time for his seduction plan yet.

“That’s pretty embarrassing,” the billionaire chuckled and grinned at him. “Such a rookie mistake. Whoever made the mistake should go back to school immediately.”

Peter swallowed and chose his next words wisely. He had certainly made an impression on the Alpha, but it wasn’t good enough to linger. “Mr. Stark, Sir. If I might suggest an improvement?”

He could see surprise in Tony’s gaze, but also curiosity. “Sure, go along.”

“What if you replace the battery in a few Stark Phones with your arc reactor technology? Obviously not for every model because the price would increase significantly, but there are a lot of rich people who want to contribute a part to the environment. Your clean energy in a phone is an amazing solution. And on top, the board would get accustomed to your invention, as well as the shareholders. It would be an easy possibility to establish the arc technology.”

The Alpha didn’t say anything. He stared at Peter and the Omega could see that he was pondering about it. He had done a lot of research about the billionaire and he knew Tony was fighting with the approval of the board since he had closed the weapon manufacture. Nothing was more important to him than to prove that SI was a valuable company even without the shady business, and Peter had given him a suggestion to strengthen the reputation of his arc technology.

“I’ll consider it,” Tony answered, and Peter smiled bashfully, pleased that he had played his cards right. He wouldn’t hear anything more than that today, but he had proven his first point: Peter was smart enough for Tony Stark. Now there was only one other goal: Show Tony Stark that he was irresistible.

Peter congratulated himself for his subtlety. After the billionaire had made a few calls and yelled at a few people to change the solder point of the phone, there was still half an hour left until Pepper would come back to pick him up. He spent the time chatting with Peter and showing him some of his inventions while the Omega could physically see that Tony reacted to him.

Every time he blushed and batted his eyelids, Stark’s eyes sparkled; every time he played with his curls, Stark’s expression was filled with hunger. Peter made a game out of it, acting all bashful and innocent while he bent over low to pick up the screwdriver he had accidentally dropped. He had years of experience, manipulating Alphas he didn’t even care about, but today was the day it had to work. Today was the day Tony Stark would be enchanted.

They talked about engineering and their studies at MIT. Tony had more experiences, but since Peter had done a ton of research on Tony Stark’s work, he could easily keep up. With each passing minute, the billionaire relaxed further and further in his company and when Pepper picked the Omega up again, Tony had even given him his private number, promising to call Peter when he needed his help again.

Peter felt like a spider and he would do anything to catch Tony Stark in his web. The Alpha was his.

 Now that Tony Stark knew who Peter was, things got easier. He didn’t need to make an effort for the man’s attention anymore since the Alpha was staring at him anyway when they saw each other fleetingly. Instead, Peter focused on riling the man up. He knew a few minutes every day would be enough if the impression lingered.

The most important step was to meet the billionaire overall. Peter worked in the intern lab on the second floor while Tony’s lab was right next to his penthouse, so they wouldn’t see each other accidentally. And since Peter wasn’t even allowed to enter the top floor, he had to think about a plan that forced the Alpha to come down. When he overheard one of the board members complaining about Tony’s mood because his coffee machine was broken, Peter got an idea.

The Omega came to work early, so no one had arrived yet. The lab was empty, the hallways were empty, and even more important, the kitchen was empty as well. He tiptoed to the coffee machine and exhaled relieved when no one was there yet. Quickly, Peter replaced the cheap beans with Hawaiian brew and from now on, he spent his breaks drinking expensive coffee in the kitchen, waiting until the rumors about the amazing coffee spread. Not even a day later, Peter saw Tony again.

“Peter, what are you doing here?” Everyone was looking at the Omega when the Tony Stark addressed him by his first name.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter gave him his sweetest smile that made all the Alphas swoon. “I’m working on this floor.”

Tony looked startled for a second, he had probably forgotten that Peter was only an intern. “Right. What are you working on?” Although the billionaire was talking to Peter, he eyed all the other Alphas in the room. A surge of hot arousal rushed through Peter’s body, but he pushed the feeling away before everyone could smell his slick. Seeing the Alpha already so possessive over him woke the urge to smirk and climb him like a tree.

“Still on the storage capacity of the Stark Phone. I’ve made progress, but it’s slow because I don’t have enough resources.” He batted his eyes innocently, acting as if he wasn’t following a goal. Say it, Alpha. Come on, offer it to me.

“You can use my lab if you want,” Tony offered, and Peter had to suppress a complacent smirk. It was so easy to manipulate Alphas as long as he acted sweet and innocent.

Peter opened his eyes widely and feigned shock. “But Mr. Stark, I can’t accept the offer. I would only distract you.” You want it too. Say it, Alpha.

“Nonsense, it’s spacious enough. Let’s go upstairs.”

Tony led him out of the room, his hand placed on Peter’s back. He could feel the heat through his shirt and enjoyed the first victory of the day, knowing that he had Tony Stark exactly where he wanted him. All eyes followed them, Alphas envious that Tony Stark had snatched the cute looking Omega away, and the rest envious that Peter could leave with Tony Stark. Peter felt euphoric, everything went according to plan and it was only a matter of days until the Alpha was his, until the country's most eligible bachelor was wrapped around his little finger.

 Although Peter wanted nothing more than to throw himself at the man, he took it slowly. Tony might show signs of arousal, ogling Peter, and his scent turned spicier, more masculine, but the time wasn’t right yet. Peter needed him crazy with arousal, so he kept acting innocent while he stepped up the game.

It started with his scent. Every morning Peter would finger himself, spread his slick between his thighs, and clean himself after, but a hint of his arousal was still lingering in his scent, driving the Alpha crazy with lust. Additionally, he changed his clothes, subtly of course. His jeans got tighter, his shirts shorter and he bent over the workbench more often, showing off his plump ass and a stripe of his bare back. He could feel Tony’s eyes on him, could feel that the Alpha got wound up, but he didn’t snap. Yet.

On top of showing off his assets, Peter also controlled their conversations carefully. He demonstrated subtly his intelligence, talked about topics he knew Tony was interested in, and lured the billionaire in by admiring him and his skills. He didn’t even have to act it because there was no one like Tony Stark out there, no other Alpha that clever and strong. Peter had long ago decided that the genius was his.

Every day they spent together in the lab, Tony loosened up more, until he was completely relaxed around Peter, defenseless against the Omega’s attack. He got trapped more and more in Peter’s web, caught in the seduction of his body and mind, until one day, the Omega made his move.

 It started with the first time Tony called him.

“Peter? I have a problem.” His voice was higher than usual, stressed out and Peter’s guts clenched with the thought that his Alpha felt bad. “I know you don’t work today, but I have a board meeting in an hour, and I can’t leave the palladium mixture alone. It has to keep its temperature. Could you help me out? Pretty please?”

No one could blame Peter, really, Tony gave him the perfect excuse. He didn’t need an hour to get there, but the billionaire didn’t have to know. “I’m on my way, but I don’t have time to change. Could you maybe let me in through the back door? I don’t want my colleagues to see me in my free time clothes.”

Either Tony was just naïve, or totally stressed out because he didn’t suspect anything, relieved Peter could jump in. “I owe you one, Peter. See you soon.”

After Tony had hung up, Peter changed into his nicest lingerie, put on his shortest booty shorts, and a tight crop top that showed a glimpse of his stomach below the hem. He was dressed decently enough that Tony wouldn’t get suspicious, but he revealed enough skin to drive the Alpha wild.

Before he left his apartment, Peter grabbed an oversized jean jacket to cover at least a little of his modesty. Then he took the subway to Stark Industries. He knew today was the day. Tony was exhausted and Peter would use it to make his first strike. If today worked out, Tony Stark was his.

 The elevator that brought him to Tony’s lab was at the backside of SI, so none of his co-workers got the chance to see him dressed like this. Peter smiled while JARVIS took him upstairs. Everything worked out exactly how he had planned it, now he only had to lure the billionaire in.

Tony’s gaze traveled immediately to Peter’s bare thighs when the Omega entered the lab. Raw hunger was written on his face, poorly concealed. It took Peter his entire willpower not to smirk, the Alpha was already yearning for him. He turned around, took off his jacket, and laid it folded on the floor in the corner of the lab, making sure to bend low and present his barely covered ass. He could hear the billionaire curse quietly, a sound of pent-up arousal and longing.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter whimpered when he faced the billionaire again, his eyes huge and innocent. “I know I’m not dressed appropriately, but I didn’t have time to change, or I couldn’t have been here on time.”

He could see how Tony swallowed, guilt about his inappropriate feelings bringing him back to reality. The billionaire’s guards were down, stress was taking its toll, and Peter knew persuading would be even easier when the billionaire came back since he was already on the verge of giving in now. And the best, Tony didn’t even know what Peter was doing.

“What can I do for you?” Peter asked a little breathless, but not too much to raise suspicion. He came closer, invading Tony’s personal space to lean over the workbench and inspect what the billionaire was experimenting on.

The Alpha cleared his throat, taking a few seconds to gain back his control. “I’m experimenting with the arch technology and I have to increase the temperature of the palladium by one degree every ten minutes until it starts to melt. If I heat it too fast, it could get brittle and I have to go to the meeting. Could you take care of it? Could you heat it slowly until it starts to melt and decant it into the intended test tube after?”

Peter smiled at him, genuine and stunning. “Of, course, Alpha- I mean, Mr. Stark, Sir.” The slip was intended, and Peter could see with giddy excitement what the word did to the genius. Tony’s pupils enlarged immediately, and a barely audible rumble left his chest.

“I count on you, Peter.” The billionaire gave him a smile, half predatory, and half ashamed while he walked towards the door. “I’m back in two hours.” When the door closed behind him, Peter could finally smirk.

 Taking care of Tony’s experiment didn’t take much effort. JARVIS was increasing the temperature on his own, and Peter only had to decant the palladium into the test tube once the palladium started to melt, so he was basically just sitting around, waiting for the billionaire to come back. As soon as Tony would enter the room, exhausted and relieved that Peter took care of his experiment, the Omega would make his final move. But before, he had to up his game one last time.

Peter walked over to a chair in the back of the lab, close enough to watch the palladium in case something went wrong, but hidden from the door, so Tony wouldn’t see him, even if he came back earlier. Carefully, he took out a towel he had brought from home and placed it on the chair, so he wouldn’t leave traces behind. Then he pulled down his shorts and panties and spread his legs to get better access.

The first finger was barely a tease, nudging his hole and playing with the muscle until it gave way, until it welcomed the intrusion. Peter moaned slightly when he felt the wet heat, slicking up for an Alpha that wasn’t even here. The underlying arousal he had felt for weeks around Tony was flaming up, rushing to the front of his mind, and forcing him to savor the feeling. His instincts were strong, overwhelming, fighting him to use a second finger, to spread himself for his Alpha. But that wasn’t Peter’s plan.

Although the anticipation hurt, although he wanted nothing more but to ride his fingers in Tony Stark’s lab, surrounded by the scent of his Alpha, Peter held back. He couldn’t come all over the floor, there was no way the Alpha wouldn’t notice the heavy smell, and he only wanted to tease. Begrudgingly, Peter pulled out his finger, leaving his hole empty and twitching, begging for an Alpha. A frustrated moan slipped from his lips, but he stood firm.

Carefully not to leave proof of what he had done, Peter opened his bag again and pulled out wet wipes and a plastic bag. He cleaned up all the slick that had leaked out and sealed the plastic bag after he had put the wipes and the towel inside. Now the only smell of his arousal was coming from him, faint enough that no one could suspect he did it on purpose, but strong enough for an Alpha to notice.

JARVIS’ voice interrupted his thoughts, announcing that the palladium had reached the melting point and Peter decanted it into the test tube, careful not to spill a drop. Everything was done and all Peter had left to do was wait. When he heard footsteps on the hallway, the Omega bent over the workbench, seemingly invested into his own notes while he presented his ass for his Alpha’s view. Let the game begin.

 Tony’s steps were heavy on the floor, a sign of his exhaustion, and Peter’s guts clenched in anticipation as he waited for the Alpha to notice him. He scribbled in his notebook; equations that looked difficult but were actually meaningless. Everything to appear busy.

“Peter.” Tony was only saying his name, but his voice was so full of suppressed emotions that it trembled a little. The Omega looked over his shoulder, seeing the Alpha standing behind him, his gaze glued to Peter’s barely covered ass. Desire was so clearly written on his face that Peter smiled in victory. He kept staring at the billionaire until Tony’s gaze wandered slowly up. He looked guilty.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.” Tony still tried to hold himself back, but it got harder and harder the more effort Peter put into seducing him.

Deciding to step up his game even further, Peter propped himself onto his forearms, arching his back into the perfect curve. His expression changed, still innocent, but his eyes became darker, hungrier. He was sick of dancing around the billionaire by now. It was time to make a move.

Tony stepped to the workbench to take a look at the vibranium, but he made sure to keep an appropriate distance between them. Peter couldn’t tolerate this. He shuffled closer, masking his attempts by grabbing a pencil.

The moment Tony got a whiff of his scent was clearly visible. Peter could see his nostrils flare, his hands clenched to fists. Omega arousal took over the billionaire’s mind, his instinct screaming at him to take Peter, to mate and breed him. Tony’s morals crumbled, a fight between what was right and what he wanted, completely unaware that Peter controlled his inner turmoil.

“Are you okay, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked oblivious as he turned around, laying his hand on the billionaire’s biceps while his face was twisted in concern.

“I-I’m o-okay,” the Alpha was stuttering, so unlike the strong man he usually was, and in this moment, Peter realized, Tony was utterly at his mercy. The thought was heady, a surge of arousal rushing through his body and he felt new slick dripping out of him, wetting the panties he had carefully picked out.

The new smell broke the last resolve of the genius. With a roar, he grabbed Peter’s hip, pulling him close to his body until he could bury the nose against Peter’s neck, nipping on the mating glands where his scent was coming from. Peter shivered. He had wanted this for years, his Alpha crazy for him, losing his control for him and he took as much of Tony’s domination as he could get.

But as abruptly as the billionaire had snapped, as abruptly he pulled back as well. “I’m so sorry.” Horror was spread on his face, fear that he had taken advantage of the Omega that was too innocent to want this, too pure. Now it was Peter’s time to change his mind.

“Shh,” Peter calmed the Alpha down, placing his hand gently on the billionaire’s chest. “I want it, too. Just let go of the doubts. Let me take care of you, Alpha.”

The words were like magic and Tony relaxed in a heartbeat, allowing Peter to push him towards the couch in the back of the lab. He was mainly driven by instincts now, the scent of Peter’s slick enough to drive him crazy, and the Omega fully intended to use it.

Peter pressed the Alpha in the cushions and Tony spread his legs automatically, giving the Omega space between. It was too easy, and Peter settled between Tony’s legs, kneeling on the carpet in front of him. As much as he liked the game he was playing, his body still forced him to submit to his Alpha, to care for him, so he opened the zipper and pulled out the billionaire’s cock. There was no protest.

Tony was magnificent. He was big, even for Alpha standards, his cock angrily red and already leaking drops of pre-come. Peter’s mouth watered, he wanted to suck it, bounce on it and worship it, but even though the urge was overwhelming, he took his time to appreciate the view. This was his goal, the moment he had worked towards his entire life, and he would make it special. It only takes a blowjob to fall in love, and Tony Stark was already on the verge of falling for him.

Peter watched the Alpha closely when he tentatively touched the hot flesh for the first time. Tony dug his fingernails into the sofa, his entire body tensing with anticipation. He was gorgeous, a picture of barely restrained strength, someone who could protect Peter, who would kill for him. The reaction was fascinating. As strong as Alphas always seems to be, one Omega was enough to take them down.

His fingers danced over Tony’s cock, caressing him slightly without giving him enough friction to be satisfied. Peter needed him desperately to lose his control, until he would fuck Peter’s mouth and dominate him exactly how the Omega longed for. The thought made him feel powerful, the rush of influencing such a dominant Alpha was fueled his arousal.

Peter’s insides clenched in anticipation when Tony growled frustrated for the first time. “Suck me, Omega.” The Alpha’s voice was deep and firm, his morals crumbling with the need to claim, to dominate.

When Peter’s lips touched Tony’s cock for the first time, the Alpha moaned. He hadn’t even taken him in his mouth, just a slight caress of lips up and down, leaving traces on the thick vein that was pulsing with arousal. Pleasuring the Alpha was everything Peter had ever dreamed of. The smell was musky and addictive, clouding his mind and making him forget his plan. Peter whimpered, his lips still attached to the other man and he caught as much of the scent as possible. He felt calm between the Alpha’s legs, his body and mind in sync. 

It could only be described as a tease, Peter’s lips sucking and stroking him, coating him with salvia and making him shine. The anticipation built and built, Tony was barely holding himself back, his knuckles white from the attempts to keep his control, but Peter was on the verge of losing it himself. The billionaire’s cock was beautiful, every Omega’s dream and he had worked for this since he could remember. There was no way he could wait for even a second longer, driven by the need to be closer.

The moment Peter’s lips parted to engulf the billionaire’s cock, Tony lost it. He reached out, tangled his hands in the Omega’s hair, and forced him down, forced him to swallow the entire length without a break. Peter’s eyes rolled back. He loved the thought that he had riled Tony up enough to make him lose control, he loved the thick weight on his tongue and the huge tip prying open his throat. A moan rumbled through his chest, the vibrations turning on the billionaire even more. 

It was clearly Tony’s breaking point. “That’s it, Omega. Open up.” His voice was dark and gravely, demanding Peter’s obedience and ordering him however he pleased. “Let me in. You don’t know what a tease you are, staring at me with those innocent eyes, dressed in the shortest clothes you could find. Did you do this on purpose?”

Peter shook his head as much as possible, not willing to pull back even an inch. He bobbed his head, tears running down his cheeks while his throat clenched around the billionaire’s length. The cock in his mouth felt like a reward.

“God, so innocent, even with your mouth completely stuffed. Do you know that every Alpha is staring at you? They all want you, want to fuck you, but here you are, between my legs. I think that makes you mine, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

The words were the last straw, everything he had ever wanted. He would have smirked if his mouth hadn’t been stuffed with the billionaire’s cock. He knew all the Alphas were staring at him, knew they wanted him exactly how Tony had him right now, but he had decided Tony Stark was the only one he wanted and he would do anything to keep him close. 

All the skills he had learned through training with a piece of plastic at home were finally useful and Peter took a deep breath before he started to fuck his throat on the billionaire’s cock. It was wet and messy, drool ran down Peter’s chin, mixing with his tears. He gagged around Tony’s length, savored every little noise the Alpha made. It was proof that he was doing it right and he wasn’t even sure anymore if the wetness in his pants was due to the accomplishment of his goal or the way his Alpha lost control. 

Tony wasn’t passive anymore. He fixated Peter’s face, one hand grabbing his chin while the other one was wrapped around his neck, and then he started to thrust. Peter’s eyes fell close in pleasure and he couldn’t hold back anymore, forced to take every inch however his Alpha wanted him to. His fingers wandered between his legs, pulling the fabric of his shorts and his panties to one side, and giving him room to sink one finger in his hole. The whimper he let out couldn’t even be muffled by the thick cock in his mouth.

“God, you’re needy, aren’t you?” Peter could only nod. “A cock in your mouth is making you so horny that you have to fill up your hole yourself? Are you a slut, baby? Tell me, how many Alpha’s have knotted you already?”

The billionaire pulled on Peter’s hair, his cock leaving the wet heat with a plop. Peter felt debauched, kneeling between Tony’s parted legs while drool was running down his chin. He whimpered, his mouth felt empty, hell, even his hole felt empty, but his Alpha needed him to answer a question. 

“No one, Alpha.”

The longing Peter had seen in Tony’s eyes couldn’t be compared to the hunger he was faced with now. “Are you a virgin?”

A bashful smile, a bat of his eyes, and a soft “yes” where enough to coax out the darkest side of Alpha instinct. Not even a second later, Peter’s mouth was stuffed again, and Tony went even deeper with every thrust, taking his throat like an animal. The Omega knew the rough behavior was caused by his teasing and the thought made him preen. His Alpha was losing it for him.

“Such a good Omega,” Tony growled while he was entering Peter’s throat again and again. “Still untouched for me, such a rare treat, such a treasure. I’ve planned to fuck you over the workbench, but we can’t do this now since your first time should be in a bed.” Peter whimpered in protest, he wanted to be filled, he wanted his first time with Tony, but when his Alpha insisted on waiting, the Omega could be content with this for now.

 Tony picked up his thrusts, his hand still holding Peter’s chin in a tight grip. Peter looked him in the eyes, the arousal clearly written all over his face. His mind was blank, shut down so he could just take his Alpha’s cock and he couldn’t even concentrate on the finger in his own hole. 

The closer Tony got to the edge, the louder he became. Obscene words left his mouth, urging Peter to take him deeper, to take him faster. His thighs shook and his cock became even harder until he finally came with a shout. 

Bitter cum was flooding Peter’s mouth and he moaned in pleasure. The taste was heavy, masculine, and although it was the first time the Omega had tasted it, he was already addicted. He made sure to swallow every drop, using his tongue to coax surge after surge out of the Alpha. It was so much more than Peter had ever released, a potent fluid, made to breed. 

Tony twitched in his mouth and Peter sucked him until he was empty, cleaning every inch before he pulled back with a plop. Sitting between the billionaire’s feet was amazing itself, but knowing he was the reason Tony had lost control was even better. Peter smiled dopily at his Alpha, content, although he hadn’t even come himself. 

The first thing Tony did when he got the control of his body back was pulling Peter in his lap. “Such a good Omega, so perfect for me.” His hand wandered down on Peter’s back until he touched his ass, kneading the globes and coaxing a moan out of Peter. The Omega hadn’t been focused on his own arousal, too caught up in fulfilling the urge to pleasure his Alpha, but now that Tony was already done, his own needs came back. 

Suddenly, Peter noticed the slick that drenched his shorts and thighs. He couldn’t remember ever being so wet before and he moaned obscenely when Tony pulled his panties aside to tease his entrance. New slick was dripping out of him, his body was preparing itself for an Alpha’s cock.

“So wet for me, Omega,” Tony cooed and pressed his first finger in the tight heat. Peter cried. He had never felt so good before, never had something else but his own fingers or plastic toys inside of him, but finally his Alpha would take care of his pleasure. The feelings were too much, and Peter knew he couldn’t drag this out, too riled up from the first cock in his mouth. 

Tony was barely moving his finger, only little thrusts that didn’t even require him to pull out more than an inch, but it was still enough for Peter to rush towards the edge. He was bouncing on his Alpha’s finger, taking everything Tony was giving him and wordlessly pleaded for more. The billionaire hit his sweet spot every time, so much more experienced than Peter and as soon as the second finger entered him, the Omega was lost.

His orgasm was overwhelming. It started with a buzzing in his stomach, growing larger and larger until it exploded, leaving him shaking and screaming in Tony’s lap. Wave after wave made him squirm, wetness gushing out of him, ruining the billionaire’s pants. He had never felt anything like this before. Here he was, his Alpha finally where he wanted him and while his mind was shattering under the sensations, Peter knew he had reached his goal. 

He came down slowly, nuzzled against the billionaire’s chest with strong arms that kept him upright. His Alpha pressed light kisses against his temples, told him how beautiful he was, how precious and obedient. Tony even apologized for being so rough, for taking his throat mercilessly during his first time. Peter smiled, too tired to protest while he enjoyed his Alpha’s content scent. 

This was what he had wanted, Tony Stark by his side, losing control in bed, but pampering him after. Saving himself had been worth it, all the struggle and all the work had been worth it because when Tony whispered in his ear that Peter was it, the Omega knew. 

He did it, he won. Tony Stark was his. Peter had caught him in his web. 

#starker #twokinkybeans

[owlsbride]

This Too Shall Pass

Chapter III: The Reaper.

London was no longer London. At least not the London he had come to love. Now it was a mix of modern buildings as tall as the sky itself. The old carriages over the years had been replaced by modern cars much faster and more compact at the same time. Now there were buses and even high-speed subway trains. Modernity was a new world and infinite possibilities. There was no misinterpretation, he had adapted well throughout all these years. He had learned to use every technological advance that came his way: cell phones, computers, the glorious internet, television. He even enjoyed from time to time going to the movies. He had learned that the latter was not significantly different from how people's cinematics records worked and that in a way filled him with pride. Even if he was a deserter, he had to accept that his people were far more intelligent and advanced than humans. He was used to modern life; it could be said that he even enjoyed it. He had come to learn some of the little pleasures that this era could bring him. He could sit for hours in some trendy little cafe, (where in order to pay a cup of tea, a regular person would have to consider selling a kidney on the black market) just to watch humans live their lives as fast as possible, coming and going without even pausing for a second to look to the side or behind, without even having the slightest consideration for what they did to the other or to the world in which they lived. These people lived oblivious of the finiteness and fragility of their bodies. They walked around proud of their cars, their clothes, their lovers and their promising careers, never stopping to look at or ask the needs of the others, never acknowledging that in the end death was inevitable and that at the last breath she equalled them all. Royalty, politicians, businessmen or beggars, they would all follow the same path and some of his former colleagues would be willing and able to judge them and take them without the possibility of the slightest protest. Oh these humans, they would never know what they got till is lost forever. He had lost everything once, even his sanity, and he was sure he would not do it again. Not now that he saw things as they were. His obsession with death had long been replaced by his obsession with life. That was what had driven him away from what had made him a legend so long ago, and what drives him crazy every time a little more. It was the burning desire to know what life was afterlife itself. How to prolong it, recover lost moments, and why not, create new ones. How to find once again what was lost and how to restore it as an exquisite work of art. Ironically, to reach his goal, he needed death: he was tied to it, and just today, in these times, the business of death was dying. Hilarious. Something as simple as passing, now it was complicated. In the good old days, when he had decided to turn his back on everything he knew, he had become London's best-known mortician. With his small business in Camden Town, he had had access to the most extraordinary elites of English society, and yet also made important contacts with simple commoners. As an undertaker, he had connections, the most varied and they all turned to him. Of course, he was not moved by money, he had never cared, he simply demanded in return a good joke that would make him laugh. After all, even death was not to be taken too seriously. He ran his business diligently getting to know more people than he ever imagined, one more curious and entertaining than the other. As an informant for the queen's watchdogs, he had managed to get into the elite, and thus each subject of study reached him without significant problems. He was happy, Oh what wouldn't he give for listening to the Earl's little voice once more asking for information? That butler was an incredible specimen, and he would have loved to dissect him. Oh lord, if only the little boy wouldn't be so stubborn about his stupid vengeance. Today the Parlour was not enough. Undertaker knew that if he wanted to continue his investigations even nearly 200 years later and with many incredible technological improvements, he had to be able to access another source of income. Modern times meant diversifying. Today, everyone's favourite mortician was no longer called to make arrangements for the afterlife. No. Now there were hundreds of other undertakers who did the same as him. Therefore, a place in the hospital morgue had been secured for some time. Who better than him, after years and years of seeing corpses to perform an autopsy and making himself time to take a look at his hidden agenda secretly? So yes, Undertaker was happy. Even if he missed the old times sometimes, he still ran his Parlour in the afternoons and was a forensic doc in the mornings. Just like a superhero with a secret identity, thinking about it, too many identities. Undertaker was sitting on the counter at his place, his long booted legs swinging lazily. The newspaper rested next to him, he had just finished reading the news, and they were hopeless, people in London were dying in droves, more like hundreds a day and that sort of hurt. Of course, he had witnessed other pandemics and knew very well what the consequences were. Not only did people die from the disease itself, but the devastation left, and the collateral damages were incalculable. It was as if the Horseman of the Apocalypse from the bible really put his feet on the slaughtered Earth. Undertaker knew that by now his fellow shinigamis would be desperate from overwork and felt sorry for them. How much would the lists of people to die have increased in recent months? He also felt sorry for the doctors who work non-stop to save lives. Two sides of the same coin: medical services and shinigamis, both barely surpassed by an infamous virus invisible to everyone's eyes, even his own. He regretted his work in the hospital too, it had been interrupted in these months, and he no longer had access to people's bodies for security measures. Obviously, the virus did not affect him in the least, but he had to keep up appearances. He sighed bored as his black nails drummed on the surface of the counter, he had no pending work, and he only had to wait. Sighed and wait. No more laugh, no more research, no more hilarious strange glances from his fellow doctors, nothing. Just desolation in every corner. His day couldn't get any worse, he burnt his bone-shaped cookies and was running out of tea. He would have to go to the store soon. He hated the store, he much preferred Lau's herbs, even the funny ones, those who made people laugh and relax when used in the right amount, and if not, still, he was not one to judge. So picking up the keys, he was ready to go out when something or somebody took him by surprise. "Heh heh, but if it's none other than the red shinigami ~ Tell me, sweety, Dear William gave you some free time?" "Undertaker, always a pleasure ..." Grell began nervously. Being in front of the legend of the shinigamis made him nervous "I have a favour to ask you." "A favour? Hmm ... How long has it been since the last one?" The silver-haired man chuckled, removing his bangs from his eyes. "You know what to do ~ give it to me first. Come on, you know what I want." "Undertaker ..." Grell pleaded "Now is not the time, besides you know I don't know how to do it." "My my, your face is priceless; you are still a nervous wreck." The Undertaker smiled almost fondly at the younger reaper. "What do you want?" "I need you ..." Undertaker raised an interested eyebrow, putting the keys back where he had found them, the tea could wait. Not every day a Shinigami would show up at the doors of a deserter asking for help. "I mean... WE need you." "You mean the London Despatch?..." Disbelief in his words, Grell nodded "Now, that's the joke of the century Grell, come on, I don't have time, I'm running out of tea". Grell Sutcliff rolled his eyes. He hadn't changed in years, Undertaker was just the same and he kind of like it. If it weren't for his relationship with William, Oh, the things he could do to the revel grim reaper in front of him. "Really, Undertaker? Is that what you do now? Take tea like an old lady?" the red-head spoke loudly, pointing at Undertaker's hidden scythe. "Well ... I'm quite old after all" Undertaker smiled and Grell pouted. "Ok, Ok. Why don't you take a seat on one of my special coffins and explain yourself?" Grell blew out the breath he didn't know he was holding and accepted the invitation. It was his idea after all, and he couldn't bring a no for an answer to his beloved William.

The chilly winter covered the city with a heavy mist. The sky threatened to snow at any moment. It didn't take long to convince him. Once young Grell Sutcliff had finished telling him his crazy plan and talked about how much the Despatch needed the help, he was ready to go. Plus, the red riper dared to say that the snob William T. Spears would have more than a headache knowing that he, the renegade shinigami, would accomplish the task better and faster, and nothing made him happier than bother poor Will. He was ready to wear the shinigami outfit one more time. He had to admit that he had missed it and that there was nothing like fieldwork. He was prepared to prove that no one could ever match him. Within just a few hours, he had been able to carry out the work of four shinigamis together and was just getting started. He caressed his lifelong companion with devotion, he had never gotten rid of his lover, and today they were walking together once more. His scythe was fantastic, and he loved her. Standing on the terrace of the hospital, he checked the list one more time. There were only two names left before the end of the shift when something caught his attention. She wasn't on the list moments ago. Her name had appeared suddenly, and she should not be there: Gwenhwyfar O'Doherty. He knew her, he had seen her from time to time in the corridors of the hospital. The young Irish doctor, lovely green eyes, cute freckles, she was so full of life. Working diligently every day to save others and yet here she was about to take the somersault that would make her, at best, one of his own kind. She wasn't ready to go, the world needed her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, dear~ You are very much need it right now~." and his soft chuckle got lost in the winter night.

#kuroshitsuji #blackbutler #black butler #yanatoboso #yana toboso #undertaker #shinigami #grim reaper #fandom #fanfiction #fan #fanfic #romance #literature #original short story #short story #share #review #read #hope #covid 19 #original character

[writerunsolved]

The Drunken Mistake - Ch. 1

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: F/M

Fandom: Real Person Fiction

Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Reader

Genres: Fluff and Humor

Language: English

Chapters: 3/?

Summary:  You're a young up-and-coming singer based in London who has just released her first album.

After a wild night at the VMAs and some heavy partying and drinking at the afterparty, you write and publish a drunken tweet about a certain celebrity and one of their friends. You only realise what you've done the next day when a slew of texts and calls wakes you up to a dreadful but expected hangover. You immediately delete the tweet, but you're left to deal with the consequences. A public apology would probably be enough to make everything go away if you hadn't been invited to a movie premiere where said celebrity is most certainly going to be.

You decide that the best course of action will be to try and avoid them, but your plans almost never go the way you want them to.

Chapter One - Never Tweet Your Deepest Fantasies

-

The light streaming in through the window right onto your face, though annoying, wasn’t what woke you up.

It was instead the insistent vibration of your phone, sitting deceivingly innocently under your pillow and making your brain rattle in your skull. The frankly inordinate amount of alcohol you had consumed the night before certainly wasn’t helping, either.

Resigned to having to face your hangover eventually, willing or not, you finally took out the phone and through bleary eyes, you saw you had a disconcerting number of missed phone calls and messages from your manager; in addition, your phone kept blowing up with social media notifications in your hand.

Panicked and confused, you tried to remember the night before.

You’d left the house quite early in the afternoon, dressed to the nines and wearing make-up, all thanks to your stylist Nadia and your make-up and hair expert Linda, and a car had picked you up to bring you to the VMAs where the red carpet had been waiting for you. When you’d first started attending big events like this, you had soon realised what a long day they made: the red carpet usually started pretty early in the afternoon, and by the time the actual event took place you would have been standing on high heels for several hours already. You’d grown tired of wearing them almost immediately, so now when you attended events of this kind you would usually swear off the stilettos and go for a trendy pair of flats.

This time had been different, though. It was an important night, and you wanted to look your best. Moreover, it had been a while since you’d worn heels, and you’d forgotten the actual pain they caused you. So, as with any other event, you’d been dropped off at the venue and walked the red carpet while a never-ending number of pictures of you was being taken and after what felt like an entire day and night, you’d finally gotten off your feet and taken your seat in the audience, not too far away from the stage.

You could still feel the phantom pain of the shoes where they’d scraped off your skin behind your ankles, you reached your hand to lightly touch the spot and moaned in pain, both because of your feet and because of the sharp pang the movement caused to your hungover brain.

You laid back down with your head on your pillow and tried to go through the rest of the night. You immediately remembered winning the award for Best New Artist and happiness pervaded you once again, you still couldn’t believe that had happened! You sought to remember where you’d put the award. You looked for it around the room and noticed it on the floor, right next to the door, propped to keep it open. You reflexively slapped your forehead in reprimand - which only worsened the headache - that was no way to treat your first important award!

After receiving your reward, and hopefully not making a fool of yourself during your acceptance speech, things got a little muddled. You remembered wanting to celebrate and leaving with some of the guys in your staff and some other artists who’d been attending the event. Drinks had begun flowing, which was exactly why your memories were so hazy.

You attempted to squeeze more memories out, but you’d drank so much your brain must have gone into overdrive at some point. Normally, you weren’t one to overdo it with alcohol, but it had been a special night and the award had come as a huge surprise, so it hadn’t been hard to convince you to make toast after toast. Everyone around you had been having fun, it was only natural for you to get carried away with the euphoria of your first real award.

You couldn’t remember anything else after that, so you still had no idea what the reason for your social media blow-up might be. You reassured yourself with the thought that it would just be some kind of article full of embarrassing pictures of you completely dishevelled and visibly drunk. Sure, it wasn’t ideal and it would leave you ashamed for the rest of time, but it would blow over in relatively no time when one of the Kardashians would be spotted buying a pair or jeans or something equally trivial. You shot a quick text to your manager Nina to let her know you were awake and alive, and resolved to find out what was going on as soon as possible. You were just about to open up Twitter when another text from Nina made the matter that much more pressing. It read: “You need to take that tweet down RN!!!!!!”.

You immediately sat up, headache be damned, and scrambled to open the Twitter app. Without bothering to scroll through your timeline, you went directly to your own profile and right there it was, mocking you and punishing you for your questionable life choices, your most retweeted and liked tweet:

[ID: Displayed name: A WINNER @ THE VMAS

Twitter handle: @trebledwoman

Tweet content: h cmoe on who wpldnt want 2 be RAWED by t hiddleston &chremsworth at the sme time?? ? ? if yoy wouldnt ure either a coward or yur lyin]

Dread immediately filled your lungs, you wanted to close your eyes and stop seeing what you’d done but the sheer disbelief kept them wide open, staring unblinkingly at the screen while your brain tried to process what was happening.

You couldn’t fathom doing something so stupid and reckless. It was one thing to be caught after a night of enthusiastic celebrations, but involving others in the show business industry was an entirely different ordeal. Bigger celebrities than you had gone down for much less and putting your whole career at risk because of one night of heavy drinking was the stupidest thing you could have ever done. Seemingly on their own, your fingers started scrolling through the responses you’d gotten and you could see people responding with memes, some even hilarious, but you weren’t really in the mood for a laugh at the moment. Others loudly announced having taken screenshots and having saved the tweet on the internet archive. You weren’t exactly surprised, the internet was forever after all. Even though several hours had passed since you’d posted it, and it was obviously too late for it not to have already spread all over social media, you deleted the tweet without a second thought.

You exited the app and called Nina.

“Jesus, finally! Have you taken that shit down?!” was her answer.

You brushed back your hair restlessly and replied with a sigh “Yes. God Nina, that was so stupid!! What am I going to do? This is a disaster, right? How could I possibly recover from this?! And I just got my first award, too, why did I have to drink so mu-”

“Honey, honey, listen to me. You need to calm down.” she interrupted you “People seem to have taken it as a huge joke, and there was no public reaction from neither Chris Hemsworth nor Tom Hiddleston.” she laughed nervously “I know it was up for several hours, but it’s good that you deleted it, and you will have to publish an apology as soon as possible.”

You took a deep breath and tried to unclench your jaw. Finally, you closed your eyes and said “Okay, so that’s our action plan for now? A public apology? And then what?”

“And then we hope the Buzzfeed articles will be humorous rather than accusing, and we keep on making music, ok?” you could feel and picture her warm smile through the phone “Seriously, we can get through this. Your career has just started and I have no intention of letting you go just yet.”

You’d really lucked out with Nina, she was such a supportive and incredible woman. As soon as she’d discovered one of your songs online, she’d seen a talent in you that not even you’d known you had. You felt a wave of guilt come over you, this was going to affect her too. “I’m so sorry, Nina. I shouldn’t have put you through this.” You shook your head resignedly “It’s one thing to make a mistake, but to let it reflect so badly on everyone around me… I really hope you can forgive me.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” he voice was kind “Don’t say that. I told you, we’ll recover from this. It’s not as bad as it feels right now, and don’t doubt for one minute that I will eternally make fun of you for it.”

That pulled a laugh out of you, she joined in then continued “Tom Hiddleston, though, really? I can understand Chris Hemsworth, he has muscles for days, but I would never have guessed you would be into the unassuming British type.”

A blush stained your cheeks, you were grateful she wasn’t there to see it or she would have never let you live it down. “Hey now,” you started defensively but with mirth “he’s cultured and polite. Plus have you seen his pecs? I bet you haven’t, you huge lesbian.”

Nina let out a rambunctious laugh that lasted several seconds, then said “Oh well, I guess you’re right.”

There was a beat of silence or two, then Nina concluded “I really have to go now, honey.” you never got tired of the pet name “As soon as you’re done writing down an apology, send it to me and I’ll let you know if you’re okay to publish it.”

You nodded, then remembering she couldn’t see it, you told her “Will do. Thank you so much, Nina. See you soon.”

“Later, sweetie.” with that she hung up.

You sat there for another beat, legs still half-covered by the duvet and phone in hand. You took a huge breath that filled you up from your shoulders to your abdomen, trying to gather the energy to face what was showing all the signs to be an interminably long day.

Your head was swarming with possible ways to go about apologising, you wondered whether to address part of it directly to the objects of your tweet or if it would be better to keep it vague and only concentrate on your behaviour. On one hand, you felt like you owed an apology to Tom Hiddleston and Chris Hemsworth for objectifying them like that, on the other you were conscious of the fact that that wasn’t the only reason why you were so ashamed of the tweet.

You regretted drinking so much. In hindsight, you realised that you’d put yourself in danger by being so reckless and that if you intended to pursue your career seriously and to win more prestigious awards, you couldn’t resort to that kind of behaviour again. At least it was a lesson learnt.

You put those thoughts aside, dwelling on guilt wasn’t going to help matters. For now, it would be better to concentrate on the task at hand and to look to the future. Lesson learnt, lesson ended.

You got up from the bed and crossed the room barefoot, on the way outside the bedroom you grabbed the award from where it was still standing up propped against the door and brought it with you to the kitchen through the dining room. The first thing you’d done with the earnings from your first album under your new record label had been to buy a small apartment in a building not too far away from central London. One of the things you’d hated the most about renting was the uncertainty of not having a real home that was your own, the possibility that at any moment you would have to pack up all your stuff and move away and start all over again. Furthermore, you loved reading and owning books, and when you were still renting it was impossible for you to maintain a decent library.

You thought back to first joining your sister in this great big city, and how terrified of the future you were. To be fair, the fear had never really gone away, but that was just the kind of person you were. Your sister had already been living in London for several years, she had a great job and all her life together, and she’d been pushing for you to move here too almost since the beginning. You had preferred to wait, though. You’d only just finished university and felt like you needed more time to figure yourself out, but eventually, the time had finally felt right and now here you were.

The small planner you’d been looking for was exactly where you expected it to be on the kitchen counter. You’d left it there before leaving for the VMAs and in it was basically your whole life. You had a detailed calendar of all your work and social commitments and several blank pages to use should the need arise. That was exactly why you’d been looking for it. You knew the apology would have to be published online and rewritten digitally, but pen and paper always helped you to better put your head in order.

You put down the award you still had in your hand right next to the planner and started idly flipping through this month's appointments, searching for a blank page to use and already wording the beginning of the apology in your head. You’d calmed down quite a bit since first waking up, and even your hangover headache seemed to be dwindling down on its own, so you felt much more centred about your current situation. And then you saw it -

September 4th - precisely one week from now - “New Marvel movie premiere”.

It came back to you in a flash, and really it was entirely your fault for forgetting, that in a week you would have to attend the premiere of a new Marvel film for the soundtrack of which one of your new songs had been chosen. How could you have possibly forgotten having written a song for a Marvel movie?! Alcohol was officially cancelled.

You felt a wave of nausea hit you, either from the residual hangover or from the realisation that you would come face to face with the flesh-and-blood consequences of your actions in a week from now. You couldn’t remember specifically what movie the London premiere was for, but even if it wasn’t another Thor movie there was simply no universe in which Tom Hiddleston and Chris Hemsworth wouldn’t be attending.

You grabbed a glass from where it was drying on the side of the sink and filled it to the brim with the coldest water that came from the tap, and while you were downing it in one single go, you made a resolution.

There was absolutely no way for you to skip the premiere, but you had to avoid Tom Hiddleston and Chris Hemsworth at any and all cost.

Chapter 2

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #reader x tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x you #fanfiction #reader tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston reader #tom hiddleston fandom

[fapangel]

SO what do you what will happen now with the whole fake Bomer guy supposedly be a trump supporter? Do you think the blue wave will restart or is it too little to late?

The most significantrevelation of the mail-bomber incident was that the Republicanmainstream – not the usual fringe kooks, but the levelheaded,respected commentators – immediately suspected it to be amanufactured “October Surprise.”

Some of those knee-jerktweets have since been deleted, likelyfor the same reason that I was more alarmed that I could entertain a“false flag” theory in the first place than I was by the possible“false flag” itself. Embracing asinine conspiracy theoriesis, to me, a hallmark of left-wing agitprop, an indelible impressionfrom my formative Bush-era youth when ~Halliburton~ and~Bush’s cabinet of puppeteers who have Jewish last names~was unceasingly invoked in anypolitical argument. And yet, despite knowing theoverwhelming odds of a lone lunatic being the perp (as indeed theywere) and my own decades-old biases against conspiracy theories, Istill found myselfmuttering dubiously.

Iwasn’t alone in that impression – the NewYork Times picked up on it too, and as is their wont managed todisclose their unique myopia as well. In their effort to equate allright-wing media to Alex “Lizardman Chemtrails” Jones’s usualconspiracytainment bullshit, theydrop this revealing paragraph:

Mr.Jones has been largely pushed tothe fringes of the internet — kicked off Twitter, Facebook and adozen other services — and his cries for attention now seem mostlypitiful. (This week, he was filmed yellingat a pile of manure outsidea rally for President Trump in Texas.) Buthis spirit lives on in the larger universe of pro-Trump media, whichhas fused the conspiratorial grandeur of Infowars with an unshakablefaith in Mr. Trump’s righteousness.

Theyautomatically equate media exposure of an idea with how manyviewers believe the idea. The thesis of the article lies inthese two sentences; Alex Jones has been silenced, but the moremainstream right-wing media has picked up his ideas, and that’s whythey’re still alive.

Thisalone speaks volumes about the media’s worldview, but to reallydrive it home see thisarticle wherein the reporter blames Trump’s attacks on themedia for their plummeting popularity, as if the Great PresidentialPumpkin can sway millions of Americans into hating themainstream media via his eldritch mind-control rays. This is why theyspeak of “an unshakable faith in Mr. Trump’s righteousness-”leftists view the world in terms of stupid mobs and the influentialdemagogues that sway and lead them. They simply cannot comprehendthat their own actions have shattered the public’s trust in them,despite the problem long predating Trump (one of my Journalism 101professors cited trust polling that consistently put Journalistsbelow used car salesmen back in 2007!) They find it easier tobelieve that their vast media empires’ combined megaphone is beingdrowned out by RumpleTrumpskien pied piping on his magical racistdogwhistle than to admit that people might think for themselves longenough to call them out on their egregious lies.

Thisdovetails nicely with recent revelations thatthe FBI leaked information to the press, then cited said “reporting”to the Justice Dept. as justification for further investigations,including FISA wiretapping warrants. Whilethe media’s lunacy is frequently amusing – reporters leaningdramatically into nonexistent wind, CNN’sfit over a panel truck blocking their stalker peephole in the hedge,or going bugfuck insane because Trumphad dinner without informing the media – nobody’s laughinganymore. And it’s precisely because of the growing understandingamong the populace of how the media has wantonly abused its power toaid the abuse of Federal power to nullify the results of a democraticelection.As Ian Miles Cheong said; “if the media can lie about somethingas insignificant as a koipond feeding ceremony, what else are they lying about?”

Well,now we know – and the people don’t seem amused.

I’vecovered the media’s worldview and demonstrable myopia before; Iaddress it in this instance to show thatthe media simply cannot adapt their message. Indeed,the NYT article on fringe-to-mainstream cites the mocking/pol/ “suspicious devices” meme without apparentunderstanding of how it undermines their implicit assumptions mereparagraphs prior of deplatforming speakers equalingthe silencing of their ideas. Theleft-wing “mobs and demagogues” is more than theory to them; it’show they organize – which is why John Oliver’s sick Friday nightburns are being repeated ad nauseam on Facebook by early Saturdaymorning. Theleft truly cannotmeme;it’s simply how they function. So when RumpleTrumpskien needles themedia into talking All About Themselves instead of the issues at handyetagain, iteffectively makes the mediathe issue at hand – and given that pollingconsistently shows that many Democrats are coming to distrust themedia of late, that’s not a strong issue for the DNC.Conversely, right-wingers will be shitposting the latest dank memeswith or without Alex Jones’s Twitterfeed, comehellor Maxine Waters.

Thusly,I conclude the mail bomber incident won’t have a significant impacton the electoral map – notjust because of widespread cynicism engendered by constant mediafalsehoods, but also because the structural problems that producedsuch alsocripple the media’s ability to exploit such incidents. In fact, themedia’s incredible blindness makes them likely to harmthe left-wing’s cause by doubling down on narratives that wereasinine the first time around. There is no bad news for the DNC thatthe media’s mental illness cannot make worse. Takethe latest example of thesynagogue shooter thatturnedout to be a Trump-hater who thought POTUSwas controlled Jews. Theusual hate-mongeringWaPo crowd actuallydug up the “star-shapedbackground graphic in a campaign ad” gem that was laughablelunacy beforeTrumpmoved the US embassy to Jerusalem and made defending Israel in the UNa cornerstone of US foreign policy. Thisis placed at the topofthe article, as if it’s a powerful and convincing lead-in to thelong-winded paranoid rambling of “troll armies” motivated by theusual mystic ~coded signals~ mentioned later on. Eventhe more sober-sounding takes likethis NYT hit-piece must open by blaming Trump for the crimes ofTrump-supporters andTrump-haters,which obliges the author to afascinating attempt in pissing up a rope without getting wet.

Itnaturally follows, then, that breathless media polling reports citing85% and upwards chances of a “blue wave” retaking the House areabout as trustworthy as similar polling in 2016. Even Nate Silver’smuch-vaunted “538” polling agency has come under prettypointed criticism for the number of times they’ve shrugged offsimilar “80%” predictions that haven’t come to pass – froma Harvard professor, no less. Furthermore,midterm elections are different in many ways – local issues oftenhave people more fired up (read, pissed off,) especially regardinggubernatorial elections. Since midterms are traditionally very lowturnout, a popular gubernatorial candidate can have a huge impact on“down-ballot” races – i.e. people show up to vote for thegovernor, and vote straight party ticket for alltheother candidates, US House included. In short, the polls mean jackdiddly squat, soeveryone’s simply reporting what they want (if you don’t believeme, look no further than Fox News’s reportinga nail-biting dead heat currently, then thisSeptember 22ndarticle on how dismissing “blue wave” rhetoric as the bullshit itis could suppress the Republican vote via overconfidence.A “dead heat” narrative is the safest way to turn out votes; norisk of overconfidence or hopelessness keeping people away from thepolls.) Soto evaluate the potentials, we must turn to the murkiest of allpolitical-forecastingcrystal balls - “energy levels.”

There’sbeen multiple media-exacerbated own-goals for the left in thatregard, most notably the mind-blowingly vicious smear campaignagainstJustice Kavanaugh that only managed to rile the right wing via sheeroutrage even more than the left. I could roll this one around fora while – talking about the surprising pluralities (note therelatively high numbers of Democrats and low numbers of Republicans“Very Angry” over Kavanaugh’s suffering; a surprisinglycenter-right plurality,) or how big the Republican benefit really was(Republicans being moderately more outraged than Democrats amounts toa low gain if Democrats enteredthe fray with high outrage already; but it’s likely that manyRepublicans who didn’t care at all before are outraged now).Butthere’s a larger factor to contend with – the historical realitythat the party controlling the Executive usually loses seats in theHouse in midterm elections. It happens with regularity for the samereason PoliSci101 shows you a “standardized plot” of Presidential approvalratings over time – human nature. Whoever’s in charge gets blamedfor everything bad, simply enough – so even popular Presidents willshed a few seats in the mid-terms. Combine this with the importanceof turnout in midterm elections and the oft-lamented anti-Trumpobsession on the left, and everything seems to point to Democratsbeing more motivated.

However,I’m not so sure they are.

Youtuber“Aydin Paladin,” an advanced psych student who usually talksabout psychology in a political context, did a video 11 months agotitled “LeftistLethargy and Low Energy,” specifically addressing how aconstant state of horror and outrage at every single damn Trump tweethas the inevitable consequence of emotional burnout. One cannot stayoutraged forever. At some point, you simply stop caring. Onecould debate Ayadin’s point that the left was demonstrablyhittingthis point a year ago, or posit that they’ve had time to recover –but I personally believe the lethargy lingers. Myevidence? A quick jaunt through the New York Times’ editorial page:

*A Halloween op-ed about Trump literally being worse than the fuckingbogeyman (“WhenNightmares Are Real” by Jennifer Finney Boylan,)

*An article begging Democrats not to take a usually-safe votingdemographic for granted, Native Americans

*An article on “how to turn people into voters,” featuring a modelspecific to “black Southerners,” who are a safe Democraticdemographic – but only when they actually turn up to vote,

*Andmost tellingly, an article titled“You’redisillusioned. That’sfine. Vote anyway.”

Blindand narcissistic they may be, but I trust the media to know their owntribe – and theiroutlookon the base’s revolutionary fervor looks rather dim. Once again themedia’s endless talent for own-goals is apparent. The continuingdemonizingof Trump as theworst nightmare ever onlyensures that a choir that tired of the preaching a year ago willremain so. The struggle to get black voters to actually turn out isan old and ongoing one, but pissed-off Native Americans isn’t justElizabethWarren’s fault – it was mostly the media that accepted her DNAtest showing some squillionth of a percent of native DNA asvindication,andthen gallopedover to Trump to triumphantly flaunt it at him, giving him a goldenopportunity to mock it on national TV – on their own live networkbroadcasts, even.

You’llnote that the point regarding the media’s self-sabotage of theleft-wing movement was made many paragraphs ago, but it continues torear its awful head as a salient factor in almost every exampleillustrating any otherpoint in this article – this is how pervasive it is.

There’smore to Democratic lethargy than the media pissing off key left-wingDemographics in western states with important House races, however –there’s also the overall lack of a message. Instead of coalescingon a single one, Democrats appear to be taking a local-issuesapproach, which is rather awkward given they – and the media –have spent the last two years making absolutelyeverything aboutTrump. They’re stillmaking everything about Trump (e.g.synagogue shooter) even now,inthe eleventh hour. Thenthere’s the notable and growing strain between old-schoolblue-collar union Democrats and the “progressive wing” (viz.privileged wealthy white socialists) whichdivides their messaging on the economy – especially tellingconsidering the record-low unemployment and rapidlyrising wages. (It’s hard to tell people they’re living inObama’s economy whenyou were telling them it was Trump’s climate a few months ago.)

Andof course, the cherry on this shitstorm sundae is the latest greatestmigrant caravan advancing through Mexico – seven thousandstrong, originally – which took Trump’s single greatest electionissue and slam-dunked it in the middle of the debate again. Thecaravan is significant because it tangiblyprovesTrump’s long-standing point regarding immigration problems, and isexactly the kind of thing a big wall would hinder – awall Trump can’t build if he can’t get a funding bill through theHouse.

Insum, the left still lacks a coherent message, is still desensitizingtheir electorate with constant panicked screeching, is frequentlypissing off their own key constituencies with their ham-handedagitprop, and are helping to suppress their own vote by portraying anelection that’s all but won. Meanwhile the Republicans have aPresident who’s actually delivered on many of his promises, has agreat recent event to showcase how delivering on the rest rides onthis next election, and, in general, have optimism.Somethingabout Kanye West’s recent visit to the White House stood out to me– he saidhe had nothing against Hillary’s campaign slogan, but when he puton a MAGA hat, he “felt like Superman.”

“Feltlike Superman.” That’s a sentiment of empowerment.Obamaunderstood the power of positive messaging – it’show “Hope and Change” swept him into office in his first term.Democratsthis year simply don’t.

Ican’t call it either way. But I cantell you that anyone who thinks this election is all over but for thecounting isnuts. The battle lines of 2016 have only been dug deeper, and thesimple truths of human nature make for an uphill fight – but by thesame token, Democrats have badly misplayed the hands they have, arecompletely incapable of real self-reflection on any significantscale, and Trump’s been President for two years with realsuccesses, with the much-ballyhooed Trumpocolypse yet to descend.

Insofaras I can call anything, I’d say this election is going to be close.I’d tell you to go out and vote, especiallyif you don’t want to see the party encouraging mob intimidation andstoking racial hatred controlling the House – which they’ll useto launch endless sham investigations of Trump long after Mueller’scharade finally gives up the ghost, in addition to impeaching himjust for the hell of it. If Trump loses the House he- and his agenda- will be a lame-duck for the next two years, because any seriousbill needs to be passed by both House and Senate.

Onceagain, everything is on the line.

I’mnot sick of winning yet.

[cupkayke]

For the fanfiction questions thing: 1, 3, 6, 11, 17, 21, 25, 27, 36, 40, 41, 46, 50 and 51 (I hope these aren't too many)

 Not too many at all! I like talking about myself lol.

Under a cut because longggggg.

1) What was the first fandom you got involved in?

Oh gosh, definitely Tokyo Mew Mew. I never wrote fanfics for it but I co-owned and then owned an Avidgamers RP site for TMM called MewUSA back in like 2004-2006. Avidgamers was a forum site engine that was pretty damn nice for its time (also FREE, that was a plus) and I spent HOURS creating characters, storylines, and layouts for it. There were TONS of individual in-character boards and I think we may have had up to 100 unique users at one point. The detailed characters/plotlines were BASICALLY fanfiction- I think I did an entire rp with myself between a few of my characters once- and it was a whole lot of fun. Some of the OCs from that site were repurposed into a longrunning rp I have with @liarino on AIM and I am FOREVER grateful that I met them through that site

Fanfic-wise, it was Full Metal Alchemist. I had a horrendous LITERAL self-insert OC fic called ‘Nice of Me to Drop In’ that was based on an RP I did with a different friend. Plot? ‘Fangirl of FMA LITERALLY FALLS INTO HER TELEVISION AND WAKES UP IN THE UNIVERSE AND FALLS IN LOVE WITH ALPHONSE’. The end. I never finished it but holy shitballs it got SO MANY REVIEWS. I’m surprised how many people actually enjoyed it- I did get some criticisms but despite the fact that it was so cringe-worthy that I took it down it still got sooooo much positive feedback. I sometimes wonder if people would still be reading it on ff.net if I hadn’t taken it down the last time I overhauled that account. I still have some Ouran oneshots on there that I wrote TEN FUCKING YEARS AGO that still get reviews. Dayum. 

3) What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in?

I have to say it’s a tie between the Tokyo Mew Mew fandom circa 2003-2006 and the Ouran fandom from about 2006-2008. My experience with them was limited to RP boards but I had the MOST FUN running MewUSA and a long-running Gaia RP ‘Hosting the Hosts’ because of the warm response to the concepts. The TMM fandom especially was super creative even back in the day- there were so many fan mew mews because the formula was so easy and that was one series that I didn’t mind OCs because the concept was easily applied. In-universe, the creator could have easily made more Mew Mews. So the possibilities were endless. That’s also the fandom I learned the majority of my writing skills from, even if I did get called out a couple times for shitty RPing. I got better and I was so sad when the engine finally kicked the bucket. Aside from the RP sites the TMM fandom had sooooo many fansites dedicated to the show- my other favorite being Neko Tokyo. I think that site might still be up… 

Ouran was limited to that RP I ran but damn I never had one so fun. That group of writers was hysterical and I actually met one of them in person because by sheer coincidence she lived near me. She moved soon after we figured it out but she came back for a convention and we hung out all weekend. Unfortunately I don’t remember her name and I lost her phone number T_T I wonder where she is sometimes. I wonder where a lot of my fan friends from back then are. The problem with early 2000s internet.

Tho I think Boueibu will be my new modern fave fandom.

6) List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

 Ohhhh dear. I’ll keep it to ones that I actually ship characters in because a lot of my early fandoms were MYSELF AS AN OC X HOT MALE CHARACTER. OTL. I was a weeb. Most of these are fandoms I’ve rped in rather than written fanfiction for, however.

Tokyo Mew Mew- PuddingxTart. I like to read IchigoxKisshu fanfics sometimes but that ship is highly problematic looking back on it lol

Code Lyoko - THROWBACK. JeremiexAelita. Adorable.

Ouran HSHC - I’m fond of HunnyxHaruhi (as evidenced by my mostly abandoned ff.net account) but basically AnyonexHaruhi is super cute. I think I read a fic once where Haruhi was in a relationship with ALL of the guys and it was actually super interesting. I don’t think I can find it again, tho.

Harry Potter - Drarry.

Walking Dead - CarolxDaryl FTW. and Richonne. I’ve toyed with the idea of writing fanfics for WD but never quite get up to it.

Mass Effect - Shakarian. Fuck yes. Fun fact I have an unfinished smutfic on the mass effect kinkmeme livejournal that I will EVENTUALLY FINISH ONE DAY AND PUBLISH UNDER MY NAME buuuut for now it will remain an anonymous abandoned fic.

Boueibu - …All of them? OTL I can’t pick one ship… tho if you force me… IoRyuu and BeppuMoto OT3.

YOI - I think everyone’s OTP is Victuuri.

11) Who is your current OTP?

Victuuri.

17)  Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite?

Since Boueibu is my current fandom- I immediately was drawn to Enatsu since s1 had a relatively large focus on them but I’ve kind of fallen out of actively shipping them. I like them as a couple and I think they’re def boyfriends material but they’re definitely a comfortable ship. Their personalities are just… drama-free, so their relationship to me just seems like a quiet background relationship. IoRyuu is a little more volatile and I really like ships where there is a lot of between-the-lines interpretation and potential for conflict. Also I just really like the Beppus

21) What was the first fanfic you ever wrote?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. The aformentioned ‘Nice of Me to Drop In’ FMA OC Mary Sue Self insert fic. Definitely the first one I ever published on the interwebs. Although I think TECHNICALLY my very first one was a Pokemon story that I was writing for a little kid neighbor of mine back when I was like… 11. I think I had just gotten a computer in my room and I remember typing it up and drawing some cover art for it… it was basically an expanded version of the episode where Meowth and Pikachu were handcuffed together or something… except there were more Pokemon involved and ALL of the characters were friends. Like Brock and Tracey were both with Ash and Misty and all of the Team Rocket people were friends for some reason. Idk I was a weird child.

Ohhh maybe a tie for the FMA fic was a Code Lyoko one I wrote around the same time called ‘Desert Rose’. I can’t remember now which was published first because I deleted them all. Another Mary Sue OC fic but I actually am still kind of proud of how I expanded the Lyoko universe in my head. I came up with new areas to Lyoko and like a central region and how they all connected. Nevermind the fact that the girl with a CAT THAT COULD OPERATE THE COMPUTER was the main character and obviously I shipped her with Odd because YumiUlrich and JeremieAeilita were OTPs. It was weird.

25) What’s your most popular fanfic?

If the story was still up it might have been ‘Nice of Me to Drop In’ because that fic still haunts me. Buuut it’s either ‘Naptime’ or ‘Desire’, one of my two Hunny x Haruhi fics from my Ouran days that I left up on ff.net for posterity. I have no desire to go read the cringe and find out which one has more hits but I bet it’s the G-rated ‘Naptime’ cuz ‘Desire’ is a) the first M rated Hunny x Haruhi fic on ff.net EVER and b) really really bad porn written by like, 16-year-old me. Oops. It’s a smidgen OOC on the part of Haruhi if I remember right buuut I actually still stand by the idea that Hunny is not as childlike as he seems.

Oh dear maybe that’s why I like Yumoto so much. Similar character type. OTL

27) What do you hate more: Coming up with titles or writing summaries?

I feel like I’m horrendous at both but lately it’s titles that are giving me trouble. 2 of the 3 Boueibu fics I’ve written had different working titles that got changed the second the story went up to be published. I’m having a brain fart and can’t remember them but both ‘All the Pretty Little Horses’ and ‘Completely’ were titled something really stupid. And your giftfic was ‘?’ until I decided on the central theme lol.

36) What’s your favourite genre to write?

I don’t like reading romance novels but I love writing shippy stuff. Tension, build….smut

40)  What do you struggle the most with in your writing?

Pacing in longer works, definitely. Also just… keeping up with it. I am a horrible procrastinator and if I don’t actually have a deadline with external consequences then I never get anything done. I can’t set my own deadlines because I can always move them. I can’t get my family or friends to set them for me because I know they’ll forgive me if I fail (how horrible lol). I have tons upon tons of unfinished fics from fandoms past sitting somewhere in the depths of my word documents folder and about as many original short stories. I have so many ideas but because I get easily distracted and also because I am now working full time and suffer from typical adult exhaustion I can only put a fraction of them on paper. 

My inner critic is also a fucking bitch. I can’t get her to shut her face long enough to write a sentence sometimes. Again, I have to have a deadline looming before I can put her on mute most times. If I have infinite time, she doesn’t shut up and makes me rewrite a sentence 100 times because it sounds stupid.

41) List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading:

Ahahahaha… I don’t have 5 simultaneously because I can’t just… not finish reading something before moving onto the next one. I don’t also read things that are unfinished unless they sound REALLY interesting because I’m stupid impatient. But I guess for my current fandom (Boueibu) I’ll link 5 fics I read recently that I liked! 

1) Pink Blood - @magiccatprincess (okay actually this is one I’m going to read soon because it looked interesting… so it fits the question lol)

2) tuesdays - @vagarius (because how can I not love something written for me?

3) Liar - BlackJoker77 (A whoooole lot accomplished here in not a lot of words. Also, Yumoto character study/reading between the lines? Yush.)

4) ….. ok I ran out of ideas. I don’t bookmark anything OTL. I’ll come back to this question at another time with an ACTUAL answer.

46) If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why?

I’m most proud of ‘Completely’ at the moment- I really like how I pulled off Ryuu’s voice and it’s most definitely a scene I wanted to see written… so I’m happy that I was able to provide that scene

50) How did you get into reading and/or writing fanfiction?

It was basically an extention of RPing for the writing portion of it- ‘Nice of Me to Drop In’ was basically a cleaned up RP and when it wasn’t rping it was fan gratification for the other early fics I did. As a kid I used to (and still sometimes do) make up stories in my head when I was about to go to sleep, and a lot of them were episodes of my favorite shows that I wanted to see. So I’d put some of them on paper. And then it moved into the ~romance~ category; I was a hopeless romantic as a teenager and like a lot of teenage girls I was kind of horny so fanfiction was a way to explore my sexuality in the comfort of my own head, basically. I still like me a good smutfic and bonus points if it’s romantic AND smutty. My bf can definitely tell when I’ve been reading something naughty….

51) Rant or Gush about one thing you love or hate in the world of fanfiction! Go!

Okay, Imma do both! And I have 2 things to rant about because I can’t shut up.

Rant: This is more of a thing that I hate about MYSELF reading fanfics, but I hate that I get turned off of fics so quickly because of writing style. When I can push past beginners writing mistakes or mediocre quality writing I can sometimes find gem fics with plots/characterizations I find adorable, but more often than not I click out of fics after just a few sentences because I can’t stand poor writing. And I feel so elitist about it! Fanfics are free, fan-generated content. A lot of fanfics are written by kids or beginner writers. I have to keep reminding myself that not every fanfic author has gone to school for writing. They may not know the conventions of literature. They may not realize that they’re head-hopping in the middle of paragraphs. They may not know the proper way to punctuate dialogue (and I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW until grad school!!!!). If I let mistakes get in the way of content I may miss out on an up and coming writer. And lord knows I was horrendous when I first started. Everyone starts somewhere. I hate that it takes me so long to get out of teacher/writing student mode and truck through some writing that may not technically be the best but their heart is in the right place. 

Rant2: I don’t like how isolated fanfiction can feel sometimes. It seems like people don’t comment on fics as much as they used to, and I see these posts going around on tumblr about how authors LOOOOOVE comments and want more of them but then comments just… don’t appear. It’s not so hard to post one thing you really liked about the story, and even one thing you didn’t like. Comments help authors grow.I also don’t like how it’s so hard to find a beta reader or three to bounce ideas off of and proofread your work.

Gush: I love communities. I love the events fanfic authors put together. I love how when communities get tight-knit how everyone builds each other up and gives one another ideas. I just love fanfiction in general, really

aaaaaand SHEW. That was a lot. BUT DEF NOT TOO MUCH

#mystofthestars #asks #ask cupkaykey