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mctherofdragons · 4 years

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In the Afterglow | 2 | F.W.

moodboard by @minty-malfoy.

Summary: The reader is married to George Weasley, and for all intents and purposes, he is the perfect husband. But, despite her best efforts to resist, Fred presents temptation she never knew she’d fall for.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader; George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Alternate Universe: No Voldemort AU

Rating: Mature, Future Chapters will Feature Explicit Content

Trigger Warnings: Angst, cussing, mild sexual content, mentions of extramarital affairs, cheating, nudity

Author’s Note: Let me know if you’d like to be on the tag list!

Taglist: @oh-for-merlins-sake @sunflowernarry @vivianweasley @haf-the-trash-panda @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @msmarklee1213 @n3ssm0nique @satellitespidey @michaylahpfan27 @girl22334 @starlightweasley @minty-malfoy @theweasleytwinsgirl

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

November 10.

Fall had fully arrived in London, decorating the ground with crunchy orange and red leaves. You pulled a sweater out of your closet and pulled it on. Molly had knit it for you last Christmas. It was maroon with little flecks of grey throughout. Something about it being homemade made you love it more. Being wed into the Weasleys offered you a family you hadn’t had before. One that gave gifts and hugged on holidays; one that shared laughter and drinks far into the night on Christmas Eve; one that cared for you deeply and unconditionally. Your heart jumped a bit when you felt two arms around your waist suddenly.

“Hi honey,” George said, turning to kiss your lips. You kissed back, placing your hand on the back of his neck. A giggle escaped your lips as you moved your hands down to the cool touch of his trouser buttons. The autumn weather had made you more affectionate, seeking warmth in your husband’s arms.

“I have about an hour until I really have to leave. Dinner’s on in the slow cooker, so...I don’t have anything to occupy me for a while…”

But, as was typical lately, George didn’t fulfill your requests.

“I have to go get to the shop,” he pouted. You sighed with an honest attempt to hide your annoyance. When you and George had first married, intimacy was far more...exciting. He would steal you away into the back storage room of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, hoping Fred didn’t come wandering back. You lived in back-arching, toe-curling ecstasy for your first year of marriage. But now, when you actually got around to having sex, it had lost its thrill. George didn’t show or tell you much lately how much he loved you. It hurt, but you were too afraid to let him know that.

You didn’t really have anything to say that wouldn’t have been slightly cruel, so you huffed off to the bathroom to finish your makeup. George followed, leaning against the door frame. “I’m sorry,” he sounded genuine. “But I mean, I have to go to work, honey.”

“I know,” you said, leaning forward to apply mascara to your eyes. He came over and gave you a kiss behind your ear, which only made you grow more frustrated with his lack of fulfilling what you wanted.

“Yup,” you said, moving away from him. The sound of your heels clicking on the tile as you head into the kitchen somehow annoyed George beyond belief.

“You really are being a bit of a bitch about this,” he huffed. His words stung. George was never one for name-calling, and just the sound of the cuss word rolling off his tongue cut you to the quick.

George had grown used to you, you reasoned. He no longer needed to ‘woo’ you because the shiny diamond on your finger had ensured you were his for good.

“Don’t start,” you warned. You busied yourself with filling your travel mug with coffee. The sound of George’s sighing made you look up. He was fastening the buttons of his jacket. For some reason, you felt like crying but pushed your tears back.

“Can we chat about this later?”

You nodded, handing him a paper bag with his lunch in it. He gave you a quick peck on the forehead and left.

You sighed, pulling your phone out of your pocket. Mindlessly, you scrolled to your recent texts and found Fred’s name. You took a type breath as you typed, feeling your heart murmur as you typed.

Thinking of you, Freddie.

But you quickly erased the text, forbidding yourself to continue the thoughts you had started to entertain.

——————-

Later that evening, you stood in the back room of the shop, placing some things onto a storage shelf. It was typical that when you were done with work, you’d head over to Weasley Wizard Wheezes and give the boys a hand. Fred was sitting at a nearby computer, sending an email to one of the suppliers they frequently worked with. He had noticed you and George hadn’t said a single word to one another all night.

“Hey, y/n?”

You heard Fred begin to speak, so you turned to your head, walking over the computer.

“You seem down, is everything alright?”

This was the way of things between you and Fred. He knew you like the lyrics of his favorite song. If the tune was even a little bit off, he could sense it. There were times throughout your time of knowing him that he had used this to comfort you before you could even admit to your own hurt. Often, it so happened, this would be when you and George would get into a fight.

You felt the tears you had pushed down earlier begin to make their way up to the surface again.

“Oh, yeah, Fred, I’m okay.”

You felt Fred place his warm hand on top of yours. His palms and fingers were calloused from years of beating bludgers. The feeling of his touch felt different than ever before. You could sense somewhere deep in your bones that your feelings for Fred were changing as quickly and surely as the autumn leaves. He stroked his thumb over yours, looking up at you, his affectionate chocolate-colored eyes shining behind his long lashes.

“You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“I’m fine, Fred,” you moved away quickly, going back to stacking boxes of Whiz Bangs.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

November 29th.

“Happy birthday, Bill!”

Arthur placed a large cake down in the center of the dining table. Molly had allowed Albus to write in icing ‘Happy Birthday Uncle Billy’, which reminded Harry affectionately of his 11th birthday cake from Hagrid. You were sat between Fred and George, smiling happily as you watched him blow out the candles.

Fleur smiled affectionately as she gave Bill a shy kiss on the cheek. You felt yourself wondering if their marriage had also become listless. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe you should talk about how you’d been feeling with Fleur and Hermione, but, you felt a sense of shame. A sense of failure had started to enter your mind - maybe you just weren’t attractive to George anymore. A sense of sadness filled your heart again, so you pushed it away, reaching to George’s hand. He barely held it back. You could feel your knee touching Fred’s, which forced you to take continuous sips of the pumpkin juice in front of you.

Once everyone had finished eating, you chose to clean up so that everyone could continue talking. The truth was, you felt an aching sadness in your chest and needed some time alone. You turned on this sink in the kitchen, smiling at the coziness of Molly’s little kitchen. You allowed the sink to fill with whatever, humming to yourself as you scrubbed. You found your head bopping back and forth as you hummed the Triwizard Tournament theme.

You looked up when Fred appeared next to you, reaching into the water to help you.

“I got it,” you said quietly. Something about his mere presence made you want to scream.

“Let me help you.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about the dishes, but something about his tone and the huskiness behind his words made you think he definitely was not.

Your hands met beneath the water, Fred’s fingers dancing against yours. You moved to give his hand a squeeze, looking knowingly into his eyes.

“Y/n, I…”

Suddenly, you heard Ginny’s voice behind you. “You two need help?” She asked sweetly, grabbing a hand towel to do the drying. You yanked your hands out of the sudsy water with a splash.

“Absolutely, thanks, Gin,” you replied, letting yourself glance over at Fred who was clearly struggling to calm his breathing.

_________________________

The shower at the Burrow was notoriously hard to operate. But nonetheless, you were finally able to find the right temperature. You stood beneath the hot water, letting it run over you. You sighed contently. The heat had allowed some of the stress to melt away. You worked the shampoo into your hair, closing your eyes as you rinsed away a day’s worth of troubles. After you felt clean, you slid the curtain open, flipping over to wrap your hair in a towel. The room had become foggy from the heat, which you noted as you headed over to the mirror to wash your face.

Just then, the door opened. You jumped, nearly screaming at the sight of Fred in the doorway. He shut the door behind him. There was no way he hadn’t seen pretty much everything you had to offer. You couldn’t find a word to utter as he looked your bare body up and down.

Your breath felt strangled as he walked forward, moving so you were flush against the wall. In your chest, your heartbeat had gone wild. You had never felt like this in your life - not even the first time you finally made love to George.

Fred reached over and handed you the towel off a nearby shelf.

“Make sure you lock the door next time, pet,” he said, watching as you shakily wrapped it around you.

“Get out of here, Fred,” you feigned outrage, even though you didn’t mind him being there one bit.

He laughed, using his thumb to wipe smeared mascara from beneath your eye. It had run while you showered.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Fred-”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay-”

But Fred had turned to leave, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t tell George?”

“Pinky promise.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

December 24.

You all sat around the fire, warmed from the inside out by stories of the Weasley boys as children, and spiked eggnog. You sat between George’s legs, his arms wrapped lovingly around you. He placed his chin on your shoulder, and you turned to kiss his lips. He tasted like Christmas cookies and nutmeg.

“I’m tired, honey. Are you?”

You shook your head. “No, but go on up. I think I’ll stay up a while longer. Do you think I’ll see Father Christmas?”

George laughed, bopping you on the nose. “Perhaps, but he knows you’ve been a naughty girl.”

Molly gasped, “George Weasley! In front of your own mother!”

The whole room erupted in laughter, watching as your face turned bright red. “Goodnight, George,” you chuckled, giving him one last goodnight hug.

The room slowly continued to clear out. You sat on the floor, sipping more eggnog and flipping through a photo album. You smiled at a sweet picture of Fred and George in matching Christmas sweaters, toothy grins adorning their face as they held up their Christmas presents. On the next page was another picture of the twins in matching onesies, just a few days after they were born. They were always together. They shared everything. You felt a pang of guilt wash over you again. You hadn’t been able to forget about the incident on Bill’s birthday, and what’s more, it had thrilled you.

Eventually, it was just you and Fred in the sitting room. The house had fallen quiet as you listening to the crackling of the fireplace. Fred came to sit next to you, silently watching the fire along with you.

You turned and looked over at him. He still captivated you with his boyish charm. No matter how many times you had looked at him, you never failed to feel some sort of joy deep inside of you. Again, you felt ashamed, because your husband has failed to make you feel this way for a few months now.

Fred scooted forward, looking into your eyes as if he were searching for something. You gazed back, hoping that he would find what he was looking for. He was wearing his old, tattered sweater that Molly had made him so many years ago, a big F on the front. It was sweet and nostalgic. It reminded you a Christmas nights at Hogwarts, sharing chocolates and playing pranks in the hallowed hallways.

“So, what’s been going on? Seriously, y/n, it’s been driving me mad.”

“Well, honestly, things aren’t fantastic with George right now, Fred, s’all there is to say.”

“How do you mean?”

You blushed. “It’s embarrassing,” you admitted, pulling the sleeves of your sweater down around your hands and pulling your knees to your chest.

Fred reached over to tuck a hair behind your ear. “You can tell me, you know that.”

“I just don’t think he finds me beautiful anymore, Fred. He doesn’t touch me like he used to. He...just...I don’t know. I feel like such a normal part of his life. The fireworks have gone. It makes me feel small and ….unbeautiful. I miss feeling wanted. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because...we haven’t started a family yet. Maybe he’s disappointed in that? I don’t know.”

The words came pouring out of your mouth. All at once, you regretted them, staring down at the carpet. You felt bad for talking badly about George, especially to his closest brother. You felt tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. Sniffling, you used the hem of your sleeves to wipe your eyes.

“You are so far from unbeautiful, y/n. You’re perfect. George is the luckiest man on this Earth. I...I swear it.”

What Fred didn’t tell you was that the day George had gone through with the proposal, he had locked himself in his bathroom and cried. Full, heavy, fat-teared crying over the fact that his chance with you had been lost forever. Seeing you in white walking down the aisle toward him had taken his breath away, too, until he remembered he was standing next to George as his best man. You were the one that got away, and the hardest part was is that you hadn’t gone anywhere.

He cupped your face in his hands, moving to use his sweater to catch your stray tears. “Do you know how much I hate seeing you sad?”

All at once, your lips were crashing into his. You fell back onto the carpet, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head, propped up by his arms. “Freddie,” you gasped, but before you could say too much, he continued to kiss you.

Your tongues battled for dominance. Fred flicked his tongue across your lip. You felt his hands sliding up under your sweater, grabbing your hips. His hands were colder than you expected, making you jump. Your chest rose and fell, breathing deeply as he pulled away.

“He’s a bloody idiot,” Fred gasped, pressed his forehead to yours. The only sound to be heard in the Burrow sitting room was the shaky breath of you both...and the overwhelming sense that a beautiful secret - like a tapestry - had just started to be woven together.

[To Be Continued.]

#fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins fanfiction #george weasley #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine

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thosewickedlovelies · 4 years

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AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Cookies (part 2)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: T for mature themes (implications of sexy times and violence). It will go up later ;)

Summary: You share an apartment wall with Javier Peña, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get to know him. You didn’t think your baking would be the catalyst.

Javi and Reader continue to get to know each other.

Tags: Mention of blood, super vague description of wound care. Additional TW for Javi: the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known.

Word Count: 3,484

A/N: I was NOT expecting the amount of enthusiasm I got for the first chapter, but I’m so grateful for it!! I struggled a little bit with this chapter because it was the only one I didn’t have a solid plan for lol, but here it is because I’m impatient to share (and also tired of looking at it). I promise the next few will be better ;)

Masterlist

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The next evening, you give yourself a stern pep talk before going to knock on Javier’s door. Javi, you remind yourself. You’re here to check on his leg, assuming he needs you to.

The door swings open much more readily than it had the night before, and Javier appears, an expectant half-smile curling the corner of his mouth. “Neighbor,” he drawls. Despite the new air of informality about him, his eyes hold a familiar suggestion that makes your heart sink a little. Back to his customary flirting, then.

“Hi, Javier,” you say, more coolly than you had originally planned. “I came over to see if you wanted me to check on your leg. I just kind of assumed that you would have the right supplies and stuff when I was giving you instructions last night, but if you don’t I can give you some, change the bandage for you. The first few days of healing are the most critical,” you explain, willing yourself to cut off your own rambling.

He examines your face for a second, the ready welcome fading. “Why do I get the feeling this check-up is more for you than for me?” He hitches an amused eyebrow back up, stepping back to let you in.

Over the threshold you cross your arms. “I don’t know, did you want your secret stab wound to get infected?”

He puts his hand on his hips with the beginning of a disbelieving frown. “It wasn’t a stab,” he grumbles defensively, with all the dignity of a petulant child.

You roll your eyes at his assertive posturing. “I know. I examined it.” Javier doesn’t move, though it couldn’t be comfortable maintaining such a wide-legged stance in those tight jeans. Your lips twitch the slightest bit as you take in your normally composed neighbor, his conflicted moue suggesting he’s been thrown off.

Taking pity on him, you borrow a page from his communication manual, nodding to a chair. “Come on. Pants off,” you deadpan, letting just a hint of your amusement show.

His expression starts out relieved, then cycles through several emotions in the space of the next second (albeit extremely subtly). He seems to freeze momentarily. “Uh, if you’ll just excuse me for one second, I’ll have these off for you in no time.” He winks, which would be charming if it weren’t Javier and he didn’t look like he had forgotten something important, and hastily strides toward the bedrooms.

Mystified, you look around, curious about the man despite his unpredictable demeanor. The apartment looks comfortably lived-in, yet there’s a distinct lack of personal effects, creating an odd contrast. There’s an empty takeout container by the sink, but you aren’t fooled by that- very occasionally, you’ve smelled amazing things coming from this kitchen. You wonder what sparks his culinary inspiration.

A throat clears behind you and you jump. You hadn’t heard Javi return, but there he stands by the dining room table, the fly of his jeans already gaping. He quirks a brow at you. “See anything interesting?” he asks, tipping his head to indicate the apartment. Apparently at ease, he begins to remove his jeans, and you avert your gaze, a flush creeping up your neck.

What? You saw people in all states of nudity every day at the hospital; why should you be flustered now? Annoyed, you busy yourself sorting through supplies while he sits down,

though not before he pulls out a chair for you.

Just like the previous night, he waits until you’re almost finished working to speak. “How did you know I was in pain last night? I didn’t think I made much noise.” His eyes are narrowed, like it’s something that’s been bothering him.

You reflect on your answer before giving it. “You...moved like you were in pain. Slowly, shuffling. And...you made a noise once you closed the door. I heard it, you know, through the wall.” You admit the last part with your eyes down, focusing on adhering tape to his skin.

“Through the wall, huh.” Something in Javier’s husky voice makes you glance up. He looks contemplative, dark eyes studying you thoughtfully. He angles his head down toward you. “What else do you hear through the wall?”

You’ve walked into a trap of your own making. Those daring insinuations are back in his eyes, but you can’t escape to your apartment in the middle of changing a bandage. So you answer truthfully: “I hear you cook sometimes. Smell you cook sometimes,” you correct yourself brightly. “What do you make that always smells so good, Javier?” You meet his gaze with deliberate innocence, although you would genuinely like to know.

His expression shutters, and he leans back in the chair again. “Food,” he mutters. “Stuff I learned a long time ago.”

An unexpectedly real answer; you quash the intense curiosity it provokes. Not wanting to pry too much, too soon, you just snicker in response. “Food, huh? I think I’ve heard of that.” His attention snaps back to you, but you just let him brood as you finish with his leg.

This time when you stand, you linger over your supplies, leaving some out for him and explaining things to watch out for. “I’ll come by again tomorrow night, but it should be fine as long as you don’t aggravate it,” you conclude.

“Well, non-aggravating is my middle name.” Javier gives you a winning smile, one that probably would have passed the muster of anyone who hadn’t heard the mocking edge in his voice.

A laugh sputters out of you. “Is that so? I’ll be sure to tell Connie next time I’m over there.”

Something like fascination sparks in his eyes, a hunger he can’t hide propelling him to lean forward. “Oh? You two ladies talk about me?”

Your lips purse as your mind races through suitable responses. “Well, I had to get the dirt on my mysterious neighbor from somewhere,” you say lightly. Because it sure wasn’t coming from him. Yet the longer you spent in his company, the more you found you wanted to know.

“Hm.” A huff is his only response. His shoulders relax against the chair back as he returns to regarding you wordlessly, but in a distinctly more agreeable way.

You suppress a smile as you pick up your bag. “Well. Goodnight, Javi.”

Almost a week after your last checkup, Javier grinds his cigarette butt into the ground and flicks a last glance at your window. He and Steve had arrived home at the same time, so he’d stalled with the excuse of a smoke outside, knowing that if he entered his own apartment, he’d lose his nerve. Gritting his teeth, he limps up the stairs and to your door. He knocks.

The noise of the tv cuts off, and a moment later, you open the door. You blink in surprise. “Javi! What are you doing here?” Concern clouds your face as you take in his rumpled appearance.

The words lodge in his throat. “I, uh. I need your help,” he admits, dragging his gaze up from the floor. “Banged my leg at work today. Think I opened it up again...thought I should let you take a look at it.” He couldn’t stop imagining your reaction if you found out he hadn’t.

Your eyes widen, and you immediately step back to let him in. “Of course! Please, here-” You offer your arm, but Javier has enough pride this time to make it to your dining room table without help. When he looks up you’ve vanished, dashed off to your stash of medical supplies, he assumes.

He takes the opportunity to look around. Your place is cute, homey-feeling, because of course it is. He notes, however, that most of the decoration has been locally bought, and curiosity needles at him. Nothing more personal to bring with you? He gets a fleeting glimpse of the bottle of wine on the coffee table before you return.

“...sorry about that, I don’t know why I stashed this away so well when I knew you might need it again.” Your setup is a familiar scene by now. You keep glancing over at his blood-stained bandage, frowning worriedly, and he wonders how you can be so damn caring when it’s clear he’s interrupted your evening.

He makes a sound of disgust. “Nah, this was a stupid accident,” he says, annoyed all over again. “Normal, routine chase after some narco, but I slid against a wall that had some shit sticking out of it at just the wrong spot.”

Your eyes leap to his in shock, and too late he remembers that Connie gave you the ‘janitorial services’ line. You don’t ask though, pressing your lips together and determinedly refocusing on peeling off the bandage, and Javi can’t help but feel a twinge of respect.

Well, someone in the building would tell you sooner or later. “I’m an agent of the DEA,” he says, monitoring your reaction. “Since you were about to ask.”

You straighten indignantly. “I was not!” you protest, before you see the lazy gleam in his eye and realize he’s joking. You roll your eyes reproachfully, but the press of your lips now looks amused. “I just thought there was probably a reason Connie didn’t tell me.” Javier winces as you gently prod at his injury.

“Well, what’s one more secret between neighbors?” He winks conspiratorially at you. Just like the last time, however, it gets minimal reaction, and it confounds and intrigues him in equal measure. Women usually respond to his efforts. Even if there’s no real intention, he likes seeing them get a little flustered, likes the feeling of having influence, control. And women don’t seem to mind.

But you...you resisted. Javier doesn’t know why, but you don’t react to his usual charm in the ways he’d come to expect. He’s sure you don’t dislike him- but he’s not exactly sure what he’s doing to make you like him, either. There was something...enticing about it.

The familiar feeling of your fingers smoothing tape along his thigh brings him back to the present. He tries not pay too much attention to it, knowing that it would be extremely asshole timing to pop a boner.

“Well, you should be all set. Again.” You look sympathetic, not resentful, and Javier nods, suddenly feeling awkward. How could he possibly make up all of this up to you?

“Just- try to be careful, okay? You don’t have to hurt yourself as an excuse to hang out with me.” Out of nowhere you’re teasing him, with a line to rival some of his worst. His eyebrows raise, and he chuckles as he dips his head.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He gets to his feet. “...Thank you,” he says gruffly, hoping he’s conveying even a tiny amount of how much he means it. “Enjoy your evening.” He doesn’t let himself look back as he heads for the door.

Steve and Connie have invited you to a movie night. Or at least, Connie has. You assume the invite comes from both of them, even if a movie night doesn’t seem like something Steve would initiate.

“Javi will be there too,” Connie had informed you nonchalantly, but she watched intently for your reaction.

You hadn’t even blinked. “Great!” you said easily- until you realized the opportunity this presented and beamed. “What should I make?”

Which is how you end up standing outside her door, one floor up, holding a plate of cookies. You were glad now that you decided to make them today and not yesterday- finishing them barely 20 minutes ago had effectively given you no time to tailspin about what to wear or how you were supposed to act around Javi. Or rather, Javi and Steve and Connie, since although you and Javi had a secret, it was not what they’d imagine it to be.

Connie answers the door, and that’s definitely not a twinge of disappointment you feel, because why would Javier have answered the door of someone else’s house?

“Hey, come in!” Connie gushes. She waggles her eyebrows meaningfully at the plate in your hands. “What are those, and what are you drinking with them?”

Her easy familiarity grounds you. “Whatever you’ve got,” you reply, some of your nerves settling. Your friend leads you to the kitchen, where Steve and Javi stand continuing some conversation at the bar counter.

“The party has arrived, boys!” She announces. “I told you all that smell was for us.” She winks at you, a bottle already in hand to pour you a drink.

“Welcome, welcome,” Steve greets in his easygoing way, gesturing with his beer to encompass the apartment as a whole.

You smile in thanks, your eyes flitting briefly to Javier. He hasn’t said anything yet, but there’s a loose relaxation to him you haven’t seen before, a softness playing on his lips as he absorbs the scene. It’s similar, you realize, to the moment when he complimented your lemon cake, the first time you felt like you were meeting the real him.

This observation only takes a heartbeat to sink in. Tucking it away to examine later, you shyly lift the plate and set it in the middle of everyone. “She‘s right,” you confirm, peeling off the plastic wrap. “Peanut butter cookies.” The next few seconds are spent in an expectant semi-quiet as everyone takes a cookie and savors the first bite.

“Mmm,” someone sighs, and the dam breaks. A flurry of compliments all around, new threads of conversation bursting forth. You absorb it gratefully, relieved at their enthusiastic response and happy to have been able to contribute. You try not to react to Javier��s eyes on you.

The ice broken, you all chat and drink around the bar for a bit, before Connie declares that it’s movie time, leading everyone to the living room. Before following them, Javier grabs the plate of cookies. “We’ll just take these with us,” he says decisively, and you take it as a compliment.

It’s the first time he’s addressed you directly since you arrived, and there’s a knowing glint in his eye. “By all means,” you respond pleasantly, meeting his gaze. Taking your tenuous first step in sharing the establishment of a public-facing persona to your relationship (such that it is).

In your delay, Connie and Steve appear to have gotten into a hissed discussion, standing between the couch and the loveseat. Connie whirls around as you and Javi approach, fixing a smile to her face. She waves you over to the smaller sofa. “Come on, we get to snuggle up on the loveseat, so the big men have more room to spread out.” She aims a cool faux-glare at her husband, but a glimmer of real frustration prevents it from being believably fake.

Steve sends Javi a long-suffering, apologetic look. “Sounds cozy,” you chirp, mediating before anyone else can say anything. “So what are we watching?”

At this, Steve’s face lights up with a grin that almost makes you wary. He takes great delight in announcing the selection, some military action flick with “enough drama and hunky actors to keep the ladies entertained as well,” apparently.

“A true classic.” Javier nods sagely from his sprawled seat on the couch, his smirking grin suggesting that it was not at all true. Steve kneels to put the tape in, and as he and Javi continue to snigger over it, Javi shoots a self-conscious glance in your direction, his posture shifting.

Connie sighs. “They’ve done a few of these now. I should warn you that it’s less about watching the movie than it is about bonding over making fun of it,” she confides.

You keep the two men in the corner of your vision as you turn to reply to your friend, feeling warm with gratitude at being included. “That’s okay,” you assure her. “It’s a good bonding activity.”

Connie smiles, but seems distracted. She lowers her voice to speak again. “I should also tell you that they make fun of it because they know how government/military stuff really works. From their job at the embassy.” She seems unsure if she should say any more.

“Oh!” You realize that Connie has no way of knowing about your conversations with Javi. “I know. I mean, Javier told me. What they do.”

Connie looks amazed. “Javier told you? When?” Her voice drops to just above a whisper.

“Recently,” you hedge. “I was, um, helping him with something, and it slipped out.” No point in getting him in trouble.

Connie looks ready to burst, but before she can say anything the tv blares, and Steve pointedly declares that it’s starting.

You settle in for the mock-fest, and sure enough, the men don’t disappoint. It’s hard to follow what’s actually going on through their exasperated groaning, but you don’t mind. Their back-and-forth is just as entertaining, and you even manage to join in occasionally during the medical scenes.

Throughout it all, you surreptitiously watch Javier. His opening up is a slow-building thing, like he can’t decide how much of himself to reveal. He steals frequent glances at you, as if trying to judge what you’re thinking of him in this new context. But he can’t pretend to be his usual lascivious self in front of Steve and Connie, and all at once he seems to decide to just be, and damned if you don’t like it.

You don’t let on that you’ve been paying such attention, only teasing and acting like you normally would around friends. But you can’t help but respond to the way Javi’s eyes crinkle when he smiles; to the hard-won sound of his laugh, sending pleasant tingles down your spine. With other things for him to focus on besides you, you’re able to observe him more freely, noticing things you hadn’t before.

When the movie finally ends, you and Javier stand to leave, managing to only after Connie extracts ironclad promises from the both of you to do this again. The tentative banter you’d fallen into in the apartment carries you down the stairs; it felt rather like you were still creating the steps to a dance in which you weren’t quite sure if you were competitors or partners.

He walks you to your door. “It’s like eight steps down the hall, Javier.” It’s sweet, despite your objection.

“A lot can happen in eight steps,” he counters, undeterred.

At the door, he murmurs your name. You look at him in surprise when he takes your hand, even as your body sings from the warmth of his attention. “I don’t believe I’ve thanked you for all your help yet.” He brings your hand to his mouth and presses his lips to your skin. Softly, lingering. “Properly, that is.” In his hooded eyes is a brazen offer.

His mustache brushes more softly than you would have thought, and your mind immediately leaps to imagine what it would feel like against your mouth. Heat flares within you at the thought, but you pull your hand free and step back from him. You can see his thoughts slow, reorganize at your retreat.

“You don’t have to thank me with sex, Javier.” It would be lying to say you hadn’t considered this possibility; you place each word with care, knowing that any future relationship you might have with Javier would depend on his response to this conversation. “I didn’t help you as an excuse to sleep with you.”

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in sex with him, exactly. The truth was...you didn’t want to be done with him yet. You wanted to learn more about him, uncover all the little things that made him him behind the gruff armor. But if you agreed to be seduced by him tonight, it would send the opposite message. That all he had been to you was a debt that was now paid.

Javier looks befuddled, the furrow in his brow deepening as his listens. Your next words come out sounding more practiced. “If that’s all you want from me then fine, but...friendship is good too, you know? Friends are a thing people have.” Your gaze drops briefly, a flicker of embarrassment overtaking you. But you’re determined to make him understand that this isn’t a blanket rejection.

His expression turns frustratingly inscrutable as he digests this. “Right.” Slowly he nods, shifting away from your door.

“Just- think about what I said, Javi. Okay?” No pity in your voice, only a soft, steady plea.

Javier continues to nod as he backs away. “Sure,” he replies, step by step, toward his own home. “Buenas noches, Vecina.” Good night, Neighbor.

In a twisted reversal of your usual roles, you watch him walk the length of the hall. A contemplative saunter, hands sliding into his pockets to retrieve a cigarette.

You can only hope you said the right thing.

---

A/N: In the first scene, Javi left the room to go put on underwear lmao.

Fic Taglist: @din-damn-djarin, @thirstworldproblemss

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos fic #narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

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Blooming most recklessly (Evgeni Kolpakov x GN reader)

What is this? This is 2/10 one-shots/blurbs for my 1 year Tumblrversary celebration, which is a deliciously tropey “friends to lovers” event. Here, the prompt is “Oh crap, I just saw you nude on/by accident and now I can’t stop thinking about you.” with Evgeni, requested by @wasicskosgirl. Thanks so much, Amanda, and I hope you enjoy it! (I didn’t know which way around you wanted it, so I hope this way is okay!).

So many fun prompts coming this week (w/c 22nd Feb), so if you’d like to follow along, pls either request a tag in my asks, or keep an eye on # Luna’s tumblrversary

Author’s note: This is a double trope, because not only is it friends to lovers, but also... they were roomates! Don’t think you need to have seen the movie to read this, though of course it helps. Basics of what you need to know if you haven’t: Evgeni is so under-rated. He’s a dreamboat. I love him. FYI: The fic title is Rilke, as Evgeni has a copy of Letters to a Young Poet in his bookcase.

Rating: Mature, for nudity and sexual thoughts.

Warnings: nudity, reader expresses some sexual thoughts but not explicit. Allusion to a reader being in a “bad situation” a while prior to the fic, but no details specified. One or two very subtle nods to Evgeni’s experience as a refugee, if you squint. Mention of smoking.

Word count: 2.9k, fuck me. I tried to make it shorter but... ah well.

Tagging: @nathan-bateman @foxilayde @supernovafeather

The sound of piano music floats into your dream, blooming most recklessly. The delicate, light notes seem to exist merely to ease you from slumber, rousing you as gently as the fingers which skim deftly over the keys. As the music finds you, you stretch, letting your body slowly come to, a beaming smile splitting your face as you remember where you are. As you remember where you are not.

You had been hesitant when Evgeni offered that you room with him. Despite your friendship, you were still colleagues, after all. Plus, you didn’t want to be a burden - although he had gone to great pains to make sure you didn’t feel like one. You know the man enjoys his solitude - which is all too rare for him between his job at Sotheby’s and attending night school. However, he had insisted, and you could not argue too keenly. You were in need of a safe port to land in when your prior situation fell through, and your dear friend understood the need for refuge well enough not to turn you away.

Waking up in Evgeni’s apartment should feel strange; disorienting, perhaps, but, in truth, he had made it feel like home from the moment you arrived. He’s made it feel like home in a way you’re not even sure you’ve experienced at any time in your life. Your friend Evgeni knows more than a thing or two about starting over, and you are grateful to have him by your side as you do the same.

Even on your first morning you stir, feeling more relaxed and rested than you’ve felt in a long while. Your eyes travel gratefully around the sparse room, blinking through the cascade of golden light. It is bare – just a couple of cardboard boxes of belongings, and your pressed work clothes hung out over the back of a crooked, wooden chair. Your smile returns. It is perfect. You swing your legs eagerly over the edge of the mattress. For once, you even want to get out of bed, the sound of Evgeni’s sweet music beckoning you deeper into the loft.

By the time you reach the open-plan living area, the playing has stopped, and Evgeni is tossing something on the stove.

“Ah, good morning,” he greets in his soft Russian accent, with a sweet, closed-lipped smile. He’s just as genial first thing, then? He’s enough to sweeten the black, bitter coffee already steaming for you on the counter, you think. “How did you sleep?”

“I actually slept. All night, which is a miracle in itself, ‘Geni,” you smile, surprising even yourself with the soft laugh which lilts out of you. You’re not used to hearing yourself so… happy.

“I’m glad,” he says, placing his hand gently on your upper arm, and looking like he means it, his soft brown eyes beaming at you. “Oh, I fixed breakfast. If it’s not how you like it, I’m sorry – I’ll get it right tomorrow.”

“You’re a sweetheart,” you praise. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“It’s no trouble,” he insists, with a single, light squeeze to your arm.

“Is it okay if I shower first?” he asks, his eyebrow raised, and despite the fact it was no trouble, you surmise it probably was, a little, from the way his feet are already tracking hurriedly towards the bathroom. You sincerely hope he hasn’t made himself late cooking you pancakes.

Evgeni works security, and today, you recall, he’s responsible for relieving the night guard, and opening the auction house up, thus it’s an early start.

“Of course, ‘Geni, it’s your apartment.”

You think, if you’re not wrong, that he looks a little upset as you say that, his brow furrowing. “And now it’s also yours.” He says that like he means it too, and with it, you can’t help but pull the man into a hug, the realisation that you have somewhere good to be, overcoming you. Relief overcoming you. The man seems a little surprised, but his arms wrap gently around you in return, smoothing over your back. When he pulls back to search your face, your eyes are swimming with emotion.

“Are you okay? I can stay. I can ask Troy to cover for another hour if you-”

“-I’m fine. Really. I’m… happy. Now go, don’t make yourself late. Your good looks will only excuse you so many times,” you laugh, and he reciprocates with a warm, rich chuckle. Evgeni Kolpakov is a punctual man, but he had been tardy more than a few times because of you lately. Because he’s such a good friend, and he had been there when you needed him. No matter. That was before… and things are different now. Things are good now. And, you will make it up to him - even if it takes the rest of your days.

“Okay. I’ll make sure to leave you hot water,” he promises, before near-jogging in the direction of the bathroom.

A smile lingering at the corners of your lips, you next turn your attention to the fresh coffee, lifting it to your mouth for a sip. Surprise surprise, it’s already sweet. He’s like Midas, that man, except everything he touches turns to sugar. That, or he simply remembered how you like it.

You vaguely hear the spray of the shower starting up behind you as you wolf down some pretty decent pancakes. As you do so, you steal a glance at the clock on the exposed brick wall, and you begin to mentally sketch out your schedule for the day.

You have to admit that this cohabitation is off to a pretty smooth start. You will likely need to figure out a shared morning routine going forward -you idly think- as you hear the water shut off and you absent-mindedly head towards the bathroom. Maybe sometimes it would be nice to walk to work with him early, and enjoy the stroll together. You could even pick-up pastries from the –

“-Oh my God!!” you cry, as you paw the bathroom door open, and your eyes fall over Evgeni, standing in front of you entirely nude, water beading over his skin, and giving you an eyeful of his bare ass and back as you enter.

Unfortunately, it only gets worse from there, as your open-mouthed yelp alerts him to your presence and he turns around, giving you far more of an eyeful than you bargained for so early on a Monday morning. Your hands jump to your cheeks in horror, before you have the wherewithal to recoil and stumble back out into the hallway.

Immediately, you yell a string of profuse apologies over your shoulder, and you hear him mumbling (presumably cursing?) in his mother tongue through the still ajar door as you retreat swiftly back into your bedroom.

Okay.

On second thought, maybe there are a few kinks to this cohabitation thing which still require some ironing out.

Absolutely mortified, you manage to take a few deep, calming breaths before there is an insistent knock at your door. You think about ignoring it, but it’s quite obvious that you’re in here, so, instead, you slowly peel the door back, to reveal a hastily dried and clothed Evgeni, half his lower shirt buttons still undone, and his hands currently reaching to buckle his open belt.

“The latch is broken,” he explains, looking more than a little flustered himself. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright? I’ll get a new one. Today, on my lunch break.”

“Why are you sorry? I was the one who walked in! I’m sorry, ‘Geni.”

His hands move around the circumference of his pants, hastily stuffing his shirt in. He still has a spot of toothpaste on the corner of his mouth, you note. That’s a normal thing to note though, isn’t it? How he would taste of spearmint? You shake the intrusive thought away- what’s come over you?!

“I don’t want you to think I’m that type of guy,” he says apologetically, his brows knitting together in concern.

“What do you mean?”

“You know. Invite my attractive friend to live with me, don’t secure the bathroom. Like a… creep.”

You shake your head in confusion, especially with how pained he looks, and the way his fingers skim nervously over his buzzed head.

“I only want you to feel safe here,” he says, feather soft, with full, pouting lips, and you don’t know what you did to deserve him but you’d certainly like to find out so you can keep it up.

“I do. I promise,” you insist, reaching for the loose tie slung uselessly around his neck, and taking it upon yourself to feed it under his collar, looping it around on itself into a half-Windsor as his fingers take care of his final buttons and clasps. “Now, go, ‘Geni! You’re going to be late. I’ll see you at work, okay?”

“I’ll get a latch,” he nods, talking as he moves, and shrugging on his navy uniform jacket. “On my lunchbreak. Really.”

You follow him out to the front door, leaning against the doorframe as he laces up his boots, and as the awkwardness dissipates, the two of you finally release your tension with a splutter of laughter.

“What are you going to answer when our colleagues ask about your first day, roomie?” Evgeni asks you, gently teasing.

“’Geni,” you laugh, burying your head in your hands, squeezing your temples. “I think I’ll tell them you gave me quite the introduction.”

He smiles brightly at you in return, his eyes creasing. Then, really needing to leave, he wishes you a good day, his fingers twining gently with yours before he sets off down the hall.

It’s just habit, though, him touching you like that – he always has to keep his fingers moving. It doesn’t mean anything. A hard gulp trails down your throat.

You don’t even want it to mean anything.

After all, you’re just friends. Purely platonic. Nothing sexual there at all.

Cut to later, and you’re having a lot of sexual thoughts about your “friend”. In fact, you’ve gone fully feral.

You have already zoned-out several times during a mid-morning meeting, and twice asked for more water, causing your colleague to wonder if you’re coming down with something or feeling feverish. You certainly feel warm, but with an entirely different sort of heat. A one which hits… lower.

The image of Evgeni nude -from both behind and from the front, no less- has somehow branded itself behind your eyes and is playing on a loop. You’re not sure how you managed to commit the sight so quickly to memory, but perhaps it is your keen eye for treasures and antiquities which has allowed you to so readily recall his positively sculptural form; finer than any marble that has ever crossed the table at Sotheby’s.

How had you not realised before? Evgeni Kolpakov is maddeningly gorgeous.

You are trying desperately to come up with some explanation as to why the fact has escaped you for so long. Perhaps it is because you met him in a professional context, where you tend to supress any sexual feelings. Perhaps it is because he came into your life at a time when you could feel little but despair, never mind desire. Whatever the reason, though, now that you have realigned your perceptions, the floodgates have opened, and you are drowning.

You are drowning in thoughts of his sculpted muscles, undulating under his smooth brown skin. The set of his shoulders and strong arms. His shapely chest and stomach, with a hint of softness, leading down to a trail of black, curled hairs and his more than sizeable –

“Are you quite well?” your colleague asks as you let out an audible and entirely involuntary whimper, interrupting the proceedings.

“You know,” you bluster, coming up with some thin excuse. “I’m probably being paranoid, but I just want to check something with the security desk. I’ll be back shortly.”

You are senior enough (or dispensable enough, in your current, distracted state) that no-one protests you leaving, and so, you rise from your seat, gravitating purposefully towards the lobby. Where you know Evgeni will be, stationed at the front desk.

He beams when he sees you approach, as always, standing immediately on ceremony, as if you are royalty to him. No. No, in truth, he’s the prince, isn’t he?

“Hello, roomie,” he greets, clearly enjoying the novelty of your new nickname, and, all at once, you are taken aback by him. His sweet and humble manner. His fun, playful nature. His generous friendship. His talent. His creativity. Sensitivity. Lack of pretence. He possesses an abundance of treasures, unparalleled by the contents of any single auction house. Of all of them combined. You see it all at once.

With a smile held on the inside, you cross silently to him; wordlessly - with an intensity and passion you usually reserve only for your work, now entirely focussed on him.

He has placed his broad, dexterous hands on the surface before him. He leans forward to better speak to you. His eyes are liquid umber, with a sparkle and vitreous lustre more impressive than any gem you have thus far appraised in all of your career.

“Evgeni?” you say breathily, flattening your own palms on the surface of the reception desk, your fingertips a hair’s breadth away from touching his own.

You’re a mess. You even feel your legs weakening underneath you. And, it’s no longer because you saw him like that, in the bathroom. It’s because you see him. All at once. In his entirety.

His brow furrows and his lips pout at you as he hears his name tremble from your lips. As your fingers inch forward and unconsciously straighten his tie, and pick a speck of lint from his crisp uniform. You are close enough to smell the heady scent of his aftershave and cigarette smoke and coffee, which shouldn’t work, but somehow does. You are close enough to-

“-Is there any action on camera six?” you blurt out, snatching your hands back and away from him. Retreating.

Confused, Evgeni humours you and steals a glance at the monitor to his right, but when he sees nothing suspicious, he takes greater note of the obvious tension in your body. Of your clenched fists at the end of your jacket sleeves, which you hastily relax. He shakes his head. Nothing.

You are about to retreat, fully, when Evgeni simply breathes your name, arresting you in place with your back to him. There is a beat before he repeats it again, a little more firmly, and you slowly turn back towards him, your eyes shining with guilt, though you can tell he does not understand why.

He repeats your name one more time, barely above a whisper, and his voice beckons you to the desk, where you again plant your hands on the surface. This time, with a quiet confidence, a sensuality, his fingertips inch slowly over yours, tenderly dancing over your knuckles until he fully envelops your hands with his, his touch awakening surging music deep within you. “Did you…” he asks with a tentative curl of his lips. “Did you want to kiss me?”

His soft, non-judgmental eyes encourage you, as does the warm, reassuring touch of his hands over yours. “Yes,” you suspire, feeling as light as air with your confession.

Evgeni’s pink tongue darts out over his lips, his eyes sheening with a gentle intensity, the room so quiet and still with tension that you feel he must command silence as expertly as he commands music. This time, his ever-moving fingertips come to caress your cheek, brushing over your jawline, your chin, and your lips. “And, darling. Why did you stop?”

Why? Why did you?

All on one breath, you blurt out a run-on, non-sensical answer, entirely fracturing the mood.

Evgeni’s English is perfect, but even then there’s no chance that he caught what you were saying - not with the speed and incoherency with which you delivered it. No-one possibly could have. In fact, are you even sure what you said?

“What?” he laughs, as you fold forward and bury your head into the desk, mortified all over again. “Say it again?”

You groan, and Evgeni hinges you up from the desk by your shoulders, so that you can reluctantly repeat your sentiment, your words much slower this time around. “I don’t want you to think I’m only kissing you because I saw your cock this morning and went feral. Because it’s more than that, ‘Geni. It’s so much more than that.”

He chuckles lightly as you respond, your words not seeming to offend him. “Sure. It was my ass as well then?” he teases softly, and you bring your hands to your face again in renewed embarrassment, until he tenderly peels them away with his own, clasping hold of them safely.

“Would it help if I take you out to dinner, and after I can kiss you first? I haven’t seen you in the nude, so you know I have only pure intentions.”

Despite the silence in the lobby, your heart swells with a crescendo. “Yes, ‘Geni,” you respond, biting down on your lower lip. “I think that would help a lot. Maybe I can even try to… corrupt you.” You add with a playful, flirtatious tick of your eyebrow.

You share a smile with him, and, yet, for now you are forced to break from Evgeni as a guest enters the lobby. Knowing how much pride he takes in his job, you slink back to let him perform his duties, and yet, the guest does not have his full attention. His eyes follow you instead, as they have done, always, since your first day at Sotheby’s. Evgeni visibly suppresses the biggest smile, until he can’t any longer. And, as you walk away you hear him say “Sorry. I’m really happy today, ma’am. Tonight, I finally get to have dinner with my roommate.”

Oh. Yeah.

Maybe you should worry about that? The fact you just moved in with him last night and suddenly decided to start dating. But, for some reason… it doesn’t worry you at all.

Evgeni has always felt like home. You simply had to agree to move in. At the thought, happiness throbs in your chest, blooming most recklessly.

And you let it bloom.

Finally, you let it.

#evgeni kolpakov x reader #oscar isaac #evgeni kolpakov #evgeni x reader #Luna’s tumblrversary

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mags0607 · 3 years

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FIC REC: The Cabin Trip by GallifreyisBurning

This is my third ric recommendation. For Exploding Snap for @gameofdrarry

TITLE: The Cabin Trip

AUTHOR: GallifreyisBurning

RATING: Mature

WORD COUNT: 23,832

TROPE: Ensemble Cast

TAGS: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Gregory Goyle, Luna Lovegood, Blaise Zabini, Fluff, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Vacation Housing Swap, Copious amounts of alcohol, recreational nudity, Frottage, Anal Sex, Idiots in Love

SUMMARY:

When Harry decides to swap his house in London for a cabin in the Catskill Mountains for a week, he’s excited for the chance to take a vacation with a group of his closest friends. He’s positive that his long-standing crush on Draco won’t be a problem; he’s been handling it just fine for years, after all. Unfortunately, he wasn’t counting on those tiny swim trunks. Or the way Draco licks melted chocolate off his fingers. Or having to rescue him from a rogue shower. And he definitely wasn’t counting on Draco deciding to sleep in Harry’s bed. But it’s going to be fine. Right?

ErFeaturing: gender fuckery fashion icon Blaise Zabini, Greg Goyle as “the dad friend,” Luna Lovegood petting wild animals that she absolutely should not be petting, and Harry and Draco not being nearly as subtle as they think they a

EXCERPT:

Pulling his favorite warm, worn old hoodie over his head, Harry opted not to change out of his soft plaid pajama bottoms and padded downstairs, unsure of the time without the rays of the sun to guide him. The large main room appeared deserted when he reached it, the doors to the two bedrooms still shut, so he thought it must still be fairly early. He lit the fireplace and turned to go make himself a cup of tea only to find Draco fast asleep on one of the sofas facing the windows, curled under a blanket, mouth slightly open and hair disheveled, looking extraordinarily vulnerable.

Resisting the urge to push a few of the nearly-white strands out of Draco’s face, Harry crept into the kitchen, trying not to make enough noise to disturb him. He began preparing his own tea, making sure to put a silencing charm on the kettle. After a moment, he decided to make one for Draco as well; he could just put it under a stasis charm for whenever he woke up.

Despite his best efforts, when Harry returned to the sofas—tea in hand—he saw that Draco’s eyes were cracked open, watching him blearily. When he caught Harry’s gaze, he patted the cushions by his head, and Harry accepted the unspoken invitation. Draco lifted his head as Harry set the two mugs of tea down, making just enough room for him to sit before dropping his head back down onto Harry’s thigh and immediately closing his eyes again.

Harry smiled fondly. He loved when Draco was like this, casually affectionate. He’d been worried that their multiple unfortunate encounters the day before would put a stop to it, at least for awhile; the fact that they hadn’t, he thought, was probably a testament to the strength of the friendship they’d built over the years. He was immensely grateful for it.

REC NOTES: Anything that has a summary that includes Luna Lovegood petting random animals promises a good time. This story did not disappoint. What is so great about it, is that it’s 23k of absolute feel good fluff, that just makes your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. My favorite trope is “I used to hate you but now your practically my best friend and I’m in love with you” and this is exactly that. Harry and Draco are very much two idiots in love here and watching them figure it out is a delight. Plus, they do it while on a friend-cation in the mountains of America. That makes this even better because their friends are absolutely hilarious and so very much in character. Plus somehow Blaise has no clothes and still manages to be the best dressed! This is just a sweet, funny feel good Fic that will leave you smiling ear to ear.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29621724

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tails89 · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, domestic sterek - Freeform, Two boys chilling on a rainy day, mentions of sex and nudity but nothing explicit, A Very Sterek Winter Fest 2021 Series: Part 2 of A Very Sterek Winter 2021 Summary:

@averysterekwinter prompt 2: California Winter

“It’s never going to stop raining,” Stiles whines, staring out the window. “We’re going to waste the whole weekend stuck inside.” He twists around so that he’s no longer hanging over the back of the couch.

“We could go and see a movie,” Derek suggests, ducking an errant limb as Stiles makes himself comfortable.

“I never thought I would say this.” Stiles flops back, pillowing his head on Derek’s thigh. “But I’m so sick of movies.” He lets out a long and aggrieved sigh. “I’m sorry Der, you came all the way up here to visit and we haven’t even done anything.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Derek says, tangling his fingers in Stiles’ hair. “We’ve had a lot of sex.”

“Mm,” Stiles’ eyes drift shut under his boyfriend’s gentle scratches. “All the sex.” He jerks upright. “Hey, none of that. We already spent most of yesterday napping, you will not put me to sleep with your magic werewolf fingers.”

“That’s what he said.”

“Dude, that’s not even how you do it.” Stiles laughs, waving a finger in Derek’s face when the ‘Were opens his mouth. “Don’t even think about it.” He warns. “How am I the mature one in this relationship?”

“Maybe you’re just rubbing off on me.”

“That’s what he said.”

Groaning, Derek drops his face into his hands. “I walked right into that one.”

“Yup.” Stiles kicks his feet up onto the coffee table. “Actually, speaking of walking, we should go on one.”

“Stiles, it’s pouring with rain.”

“Which means no one will be around and you can be free to frolic in the park.” Stiles shifts again on the couch. “Tell me you aren’t as antsy as I am to get out and run. The full moon is two days away and you’ve been cooped up in my apartment.”

“It hasn’t been that bad,” Derek says, shrugging.

“Lies.” Stiles stands and wanders off to his room to find his shoes, calling back over his shoulder. “I know you Derek Hale and I know what the moon does to you.” He reappears to lean against the door frame. “I am genuinely concerned that my dick will fall off if we have any more sex this weekend.”

“Thanks for that visual,” Derek grumbles rising from the couch.

Stiles blows him a kiss and disappears back into his room. He returns a few seconds later, shrugging into his coat.

“You should shift here,” he says, sitting on the edge of the coffee table to lace up his shoes. “Won’t have to worry about your clothes getting muddy.”

“That’ll go well if we run into one of your neighbours,” Derek points out. Still, he tugs his Henley up over his head and kicks off his shoes.

“Most people are pretty unobservant,” Stiles says, standing. “I’ll just say you’re a husky or something. No one will question it.”

Derek raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, unbuckling his pants while Stiles looks on appreciatively. Once in his wolf form, he trots over to the door to wait for Stiles.

They make it to the ground floor without running into anyone and step out into the rain.

“I take it all back,” Stiles whines, tucking his hands into his pockets. “This was the worst idea ever. It’s too cold for walking.” He tries to step back under the shelter of the apartment building, but Derek bumps into the back of his legs, nipping at him until he starts walking. “You are the worst,” Stiles tells Derek, kicking his foot through a puddle and splashing the wolf.

Derek sneezes and shakes the water from his face. With a huff, he turns and heads for the park, forcing Stiles to jog to keep up. He disappears as soon as they hit the trees, darting into the thick wet foliage.

“Derek?” Stiles wanders in after him. “If try and scare me, I’m breaking up with you.” There’s a long howl off to his left and he changes direction, searching for the source. “Should have put a lead on him, that would show h—oof!”

A large, black, wet, mass hits Stiles from behind, sending him sprawling in the mud. Blinking the rain out of his eyes, he scowls up at the wolf standing over him.

“Oh, you are in so much trouble.” He warns.

Derek yawns, his tongue lolling in a wolfish grin. The he ducks his head, swipes his tongue across Stiles’ face and bounces away.

“You are so dead!” Stiles yells scrambling upright, his feet slipping and sliding in mud.

They run around the park until the cold and wet finally get to Stiles. He slumps across the wolf’s back, his feet just grazing the ground.

“You’ll have to carry me home,” he says, burying his face in the thick fur of Derek’s neck. “I can’t move. I’m a popsicle.” He keeps up the charade until they break the tree line.

The heavy rain has cleared to a soft drizzle and the short winter day has dulled to an early dusk, so they’re not afraid of being spotted on their way back to the apartment. Still, they make the mad dash towards Stiles’ building, looking forward to changing out of wet clothes and wet fur.

Letting them both into the apartment, Stiles hangs his coat up to dry by the front door.

“I’m so cold!” He starts shedding layers. His jeans and sweater are soaked despite the protection of his jacket. “You’re a menace.”

“You’re just jealous you lost.” Derek reaches for the jeans he’d thrown over the couch earlier. He is otherwise buck naked in the middle of the living room.

Stiles tugs on the waistband of his briefs. Not even his underwear was spared from the rain.

“I lost because you’re a werewolf with superhuman speed and smell”—he lists them off on his fingers as he crosses the floor— “and sight and reflexes”— he disappears into his bedroom, raising his voice as he goes—“and hearing.”

He reappears in a pair of sweats and a hoody. His face is still chapped and rosy from the cold.

“All I got are these bad boys,” he finishes, wiggling his fingers.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” Derek asks, settling in on the couch.

“They can do this.” Stiles stands behind the couch and runs his fingers through Derek’s hair. “See. Good right?” He strokes them down the back of Derek’s neck. “Do I win now?”

“Nope.”

“Rude.” Reaching down, Stiles jabs his fingers into his boyfriend’s ticklish sides. Derek retaliated by grabbing him and pulling him over the back of the couch and into his lap.

“Fine. Fine. You win.” Stiles surrenders, raising his hands in defeat. They stay like that for a minute before Stiles starts wiggling again. “Today, was actually pretty good,” he says, tucking in closer to Derek to try and leach some of his warmth. “It wasn’t a complete waste in the end.” He strains to reach his phone, not wanting to pull away from his werewolf space heater. “You know what would make it perfect?”

“What?”

“Take out.” Stiles gives up on his phone and makes grabby hands for Derek’s. “I’m thinking pizza. “Oh,” he opens one of the food delivery apps, “and we could watch a movie.” He confirms the order and hands back the phone.

“Sure,” Derek reaches for the remote to turn on the TV. “Just gimme a second to get it up.”

“That’s what he said.”

Derek hits him with a pillow.

#Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #eternal sterek #avswcalifornia #teen wolf #fanfic #teenwolffanfic

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spikeinthepunch · 3 months

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okay... i am starting to see some issues more with sheezy's pretty consistent tagging that feels like a Bit Much. like on one hand its very straightforward and literal in definition but. it still has me concerned on potential policing either from user side (users getting too comfy with being saved from seeing any content they dont want to see) or potential bad actors on the moderator team (and this isnt to accuse anyone on the team, its just a 'what if' that could come to fruition bc of these circumstances). this drawing was marked by a mod for nudity. is the character nude? yeah. their rule for General category nudity includes barbie-doll characters with skin. their nudity tag also includes barbie-doll skinned characters that have on pants or only a shirt.

issue is its not to say this description is invalid, the character is technically naked, despite no nipples of genitals. but i cant be the only who finds this a bit much. because they allow furry characters without nipples to not be tagged as nudity. (if they have defined nipples they need a nipple tag. if they have not nipple-esque belly spots its fine). now this is where it starts to get specific in a way that almost contradicts things. skin vs fur doesnt make a lot of sense when technically theyre both naked. the furry has no clothes and is anthropomorphic. if they say feral animals/non-anthro creatures are obvious animalistic and not need to be tagged as nude, then what kind of abomination could i create that muddies these rules?

im gonna keep going under the cut actually to point out some issues i have with the visuals for the rules. which you can find their rules here

i already mentioned the nudity stuff enough so im not gonna pull those up now. but then other one has to do with gore/blood. this one is waaaay to subjective on what can be considered too much or too little.

this is for the General category blood/gore rules:

this is for the Mature category

there is no visual for Explicit, its honestly described very much like Mature but additions to 'cannibalism'. they also say candy gore should be judged by the artist for severity (more being too vague or subjective here! contradicts the strictness of other rules).

so like, the biggest issue i have with the above is the shopped lim thing. "undetailed limb cross sections" look nearly the same. what if there is shading on a limb that makes it look like the mature category? what if their wacky colo style makes it look like that? what if the amount of dripping blood is just too much? etc etc.for the body-- if you allow open/chopped limbs in the General Category AND the Mature one... what is the difference? and again, how much blood is too much???? is putting a darker shade of red in the center of a chopped limb too much?? how and why? this is just far too subjective. artists have to judge what they deem fitting to these rules, and mods do too. and there will undoubtedly be loads of instances where this manual tagging from mods will happen.

there is also the rules regarding "substance abuse", not being allowed in General but can be in Mature-Explicit. now i didnt get manually tagged for substances abuse BUT i mentioned this the other day-- a mod manually tagged a drawing of mine with "alcohol". but the drawing had zero indication the bottle being held was alcohol in the first place.

now, the mod happened to be correct, i knew what it was in my head. but thats the thing. i knew it, only i did. what if it was a soda? and if they truly assumed it was alcohol and was wrong, and i disputed it, what would stop them from just saying "well i think its alcohol". i cant really prove it, and id just have to hope the mod is kind enough to let it be changed instead of just deciding for themself that i was right and they made a mistake/assumption.

i only really ramble about this bc i think its important to consider.... i have no ill will for sheezy either, but its a young site and its being run by young people (some even younger than me), and i think myself and others have seen some not great trends from this generation and younger regarding puritanism and censorship-- which i am not accusing these people of. but as i said in my last post, some times this "over tagging" can make a situation where the users expect the website to be safe and curate the space for them. the website/mods should not be become the parent figure hiding the gross things you dont want to see. you curate your internet experiences. the more specific they get with tags the more likely people would get upset if they pulled back from it, made changes, missed tagging something, or mistagged/misused the system.

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mmxficlets · 4 years

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Prompt #9: “Early Development”

This chapter was requested by Lunarii!! (If anyone knows their @, please tag them or let me know, I would love to tag them in this ;w;) This one focuses around Zero’s development into a person, and its more of a character study, still XZero though, no worries :3

Zero’s stay at Cain Labs was...eventful, to say the least. X hardly had time to think some days, let alone get his usual work done. Sigma had stopped by a few days after the former maverick had been reactivated.

It had nearly been a damn firefight to get the large reploid to not attack the warbot, said warbot sitting in X’s lab, enraptured in Dr. Cain’s ramblings about archeology. X and Sigma had argued fiercely about the subject, Sigma insisting that Zero should have remained deactivated, while X argued that everyone deserves a second chance.

Dr. Cain had stepped out of the room to see a furious Maverick Hunter Commander stalking towards the exit, his hands in fists, and X with his hands against the wall, panting as he fought to control his anger.

Sigma hadn’t returned after that, opting instead to send emails to X about Zero’s progress.

X was honestly fine with that, it gave him more time to focus on his new friend, and the android desperately needed the attention. Not only was he not a reploid, but his inner workings dated back to around the same time X was made!

The Blue Bomber had never been more excited, knowing he had someone who was around the same age as him!

He quickly realized though that while he had had a very solid grasp on social norms, emotional control and other human quirks, Zero did not. It felt like nothing about Zero was programmed for interacting with other people, only for combat.

His combat specs were as high as X’s, and it was obvious that whoever had programmed him had wanted him to become even stronger, with Zero’s ability to learn greater than most, if not all, reploid technology of the age. The warbot however, had no interest in learning war tactics, instead wanting to talk to and learn from X.

Zero had quickly become attached to the smaller bot, and once he was cleared to leave the small lab he had been living in, he had stuck to his android friend’s hip, one never being seen without the other. This was usually not a problem for either of them, X enjoyed having a companion to keep him company throughout his day, and Zero seemed to want to drink in everything X had to offer.

The first “incident” involving both of them was more the humans fault than Zero’s.

X had been having a rather heated discussion with one of Dr. Cain’s colleagues, a man from another robotics lab. He had insisted that he spoke to X without Dr. Cain there, trying to convince the Light-bot to sign over some of the patents on reploid templates, and even allow other robotics companies to look at X’s own body.

This was a very big no-no to reploids, and especially X. So when he had refused, and attempted to leave, the man had jumped up and reached for the Light-bot. He had obviously not expected Zero to appear in front of him as quickly as he did. His shriek at the near snarling warbot threw both androids for quite the loop.

The man left swiftly after that, and a rather pleased Dr. Cain had called X shortly after, explaining that the man was no longer one of his associates.

X still had to have a stern talking to with his friend about openly threatening humans, and while Zero did look at least a little guilty, he hadn’t apologized for it. X had counted it as close to a win as he could and moved on.

After that, anyone who got too close to X was met with Zero stepping either in their line of sight, or placing his own body in front of X’s. It got a few chuckles at first, comments about how Zero was like a puppy, and X had swooned at the comparison.

It quickly grew to be a problem however, and X had had to put a stop to the behavior when Zero had bared his teeth to Dr. Cain.

The teasing from his father figure alone had been reason enough to explain to the android why this behavior wasn’t acceptable.

As time went on, and Zero matured as a person, he became better about navigating the subtle nuances of interacting with people. His personality really began to blossom, and X was ecstatic to watch it happen.

Zero liked cats, a trait discovered after they had taken a trip around Cain Labs and found a stray cat. He had sat there calling and tittering for the tiny creature after X had shown him how. Soon the cat had worked up the courage to approach, and had subsequently spent over an hour with both androids. (X really enjoyed that memory, and the cat had become a resident in the labs, aptly named Aasimov.)

Zero wasn’t very big on wearing clothes, preferring to keep his armor on. The first time X had convinced him to remove the armor and just enjoy being without it, he had been met with embarrassed looks from the lab techs that had been present for the conversation. X turned around and panicked, throwing his own lab coat over Zero’s now naked body.

He hastily explained that while they were not technically showing anything improper, public nudity was frowned upon in human society. Zero hadn’t understood at first, but accepted when X convinced him to wear civilian clothes. The Blue Bomber used his personal allowance to buy Zero his own clothes. After a nice shopping trip, the warbot having chosen most of his wardrobe, they both had nice sets of clothes to wear, with Zero’s being mostly hoodies and t-shirts, and one very bright red jacket.

Zero’s taste in music was...strange. If you had asked any of the lab assistants what music a former maverick would enjoy, they would say something like rock and roll, or heavy metal. Ask X that question however, and he would answer with a sigh and shrug, saying simply, “He’s really into the blues.” The only theory that people could come up with was that the warbots best friend’s armor was blue, and somehow that had made a connection to the android.

X didn’t have an answer either.

Zero’s taste in food was also strange. Finding out that the warbot had functioning tastebuds was a wonderful surprise, and X had insisted on finding his favorite food. Trial and error was the best way to determine this, and The Blue Bomber was nothing if not determined.

The warbot had turned his nose up at any kind of fish, citing that the smell bothered him. Chicken and red meats were okay though. Onions were a big no, Zero claiming that it drowned the taste of everything around it. His favorite vegetable ended up being broccoli. The warbot particularly liked things that were sweet, and things that were spicy. How those two things correlated with one another, again, X didn’t have an answer.

In the end, Zero had promptly decided that spaghetti was his favorite meal. X enjoyed cooking that at least once a week, much to both Dr. Cain and Zero’s delight.

The most interesting thing to develop about Zero to X was his way of interacting with people. At first, he had seemed like a toddler in a body much too big for himself. Always curious, stepping over everyone’s boundaries and being brutally honest. As he spent more time around X and other humans though, that changed.

He grew a bit more withdrawn, refraining from speaking when he didn’t really have to. Once you got his attention however, he was more than happy to talk. This helped a lot when X himself didn’t feel like speaking. Zero also seemingly became more aloof, or “cool”, when the lab techs were asked. He had a natural suaveness about him, and once he had learned how to hold a conversation properly, his charm and confidence had truly blossomed.

After a few months, Zero was a completely different person, his ability to learn helping him become a functioning member in X’s life. He had become a joy to be around, able to hold his own in conversation, adding his own input and spin on things. He sparred weekly with X in one of the labs testing halls, and had his own talks of morality and ethics with Dr. Cain.

It was wonderful, and X found he genuinely enjoyed spending his days with his friends.

It broke X’s heart when Sigma and the Maverick Hunters appeared to take Zero away.

The warbot’s probation period was up, and Sigma would assess whether the former maverick was to be put down, or assigned to the hunters. Zero had met the Hunters without flinching, his time spent with X helping him immensely when asked to prove his sanity.

He passed with flying colors, and Zero was hired on the spot. When it came time to say goodbye, X hugged the warbot, trying not to cry as his best friend was taken away.

Zero had smiled and promised to visit before being escorted out by a reploid in purple armor, Sigma congratulating X on his ability to reform such a troublesome maverick.

A few months later, X had joined the maverick hunters too, desperate to be around his friend and further his research. Both androids combat synergy shot them to the higher ranks, Zero being higher than X, but only just by seniority alone.

And as time went on, the two oldest androids on the planet grew even closer as friends, their dream-like time in Cain Labs a fond memory for X and Zero.

It all shattered when Sigma declared war on humanity, and the first flames of war grew on the horizon.

#mega man x #mmx #xzero #x #zero #ficlet #dreams-writing

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the-colony-roleplay · 5 years

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Tumblr’s New Guidelines and Tagging Info

Hey guys!

So I almost forgot to mention but one of our members brought a good point to my attention: As you all know by now, tumblr’s guidelines vis-a-vis anything involving full frontal nudity or sex acts is being changed and they have begun flagging posts for review.

This shouldn’t be an issue for us, as anything written is said in the rules to be deemed as ‘erotica’ and is fine (freedom of speech, ya’ll). And I know there aren’t TOO many smutty type threads going on (all ya’ll little nuggets are pro at them realistic slow-burns hahaha) but we figured that with the random posts getting flagged that aren’t actually explicit in any way during this sort of trial period of tumblr trying to figure out their shit, you should avoid tagging smut ‘nsfw’ or ‘colnsfw’, as anything with that tag in it may be more likely to get flagged automatically.

Also, if you’re concerned—if your posts get flagged unnecessarily, so long as you are the one who posted it, or started it, you can submit it for review and they should get back to you saying it was their mistake. And if something you post or reblog DOES get removed, generally it should get switched to ‘private’ so it’s only visible to you. I know that if you are the original poster, that’s what is supposed to happen, but the only grey area is if you have reblogged it—they are currently unclear in their explanation whether with reblogs, the entire post just gets deleted, or if it also gets privated. If you’d like more information about the guideline changes, check out here and here.

Anyway, with all that said, nothing we post here should go against guidelines, so end of day, you should be fine, but let’s avoid using the tag to be safe!! I’ll be updating the rules and guidelines shortly to accommodate this. At this point, everyone knows this is a mature RP and will sometimes have mature content, so that’s something that is agreed upon during the application and acceptance process.

Smut can therefor go without an explicit tag, however, please do still use your trigger tags in any thread in which they apply—which are currently as follows:

tw: drugs/drug mention

tw: suicide/suicide mention

tw: non-con/mention (any of these you can specify with “mention” if you so chose, but I’ll stop including that in this list)

tw: sexual abuse

tw: eating disorder

tw: graphic violence

I’ll also make sure that these are clearly listed somewhere as I don’t think they are, currently.

Thanks for your attention guys and great work all around!

xxMod!Ro

#col22admin #para rp #post apocalypse rp #dystopia rp #future rp

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allisonilluminated · 7 years

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A Comprehensive Guide to Tagging

Hey all,

Tagging is super easy to figure out, but can be deceptively hard to figure out how to master. Most authors will probably change their tags at some point in between starting and finishing their story. The thing is, tags are one of the biggest ways people will discover and read your stories, so it's super important to get them right.

Why are tags so important? Your tags, along with your summary, are the criteria your readers will use to decide whether to read or not. This means that it’s important to both advertise what’s great about your story, but also any objectionable content that some readers want to avoid.

One of the biggest challenges about tags is that FFN and AO3 have completely different tagging systems. If you're cross-posting your work, you're going to have to figure both out. This post will be broken down into types of tags, then specified between the two sites.

Before we get into any specifics, this should be your fundamental tagging philosophy - “Would I be satisfied to come across this story if I was browsing this tag? If so, tag it. If not, don't.” (Awesome quote from u/Zaluzianskya on reddit)

Now, to get into specifics...

Ratings:

The rating of your fic requires you to have an answer to the question, “Who is my target audience?” If you don't know how to answer that, think about maturity. Am I writing a dark gritty fic, or a light comedy? Do I have gratuitous sex, or is my story gen?

FFN has four different ratings, and AO3 has five. Here's a breakdown of each one:

K (FFN Only) – These fics probably have no violence, no swearing, and no relationships stronger than friendship.

K+ (FFN) and General Audiences (AO3) – If you're writing one of these stories, there's probably some cartoon violence, maybe some light swearing, and some cutesy shipping. This tag is for lighter fics, especially if they fall under the Slice of Life, Humor, Family, or Friendship genres. Nothing here should merit an archive warning on AO3.

T/Teen (Both) – This is the default rating for a fanfiction, so if you're not sure, it probably fits here. Violence, cursing, and non-explicit relationships are enough to land a fic here, and the majority of works do fall under this description. The Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, and Drama genres all find their home here, although works of every genre are in this rating.

Mature (FFN) – If you write a mature story and post it to FFN, it will be automatically filtered off the home page. That's okay, because a ton of people seek out these sex filled, violent stories about immoral acts and other horrors. If there is explicit sex, your story must go here – especially non-con. Since FFN doesn't have content filters, it's extremely important that your reader knows when they're reading a story about suicide, rape, or another triggering event. It's your responsibility to make your story M if there is any explicit description of such things. If you're not explicit about sex or such, T is still a fine rating, but use your discretion. The Horror genre has a nice home here, I don't need to see that scary stuff on my front page. Note: Explicit sex is not allowed under FFN’s terms of service. AO3 is a much friendlier place for smut, with more readers as well, so you would be better off posting it there.

Mature (AO3) – Same as FFN, with two key differences. First, these stories will show up on the front page, so no worries about that. Second, this is for graphic and objectionable content with no sex or nudity. Save your lemons for…

Explicit (AO3 only) – Smut smut smut smuttity smut. If your characters are having sexy time, it's an E for you.

Not Rated (AO3 only) – Honestly, if I see a not rated fic, I automatically assume it's Explicit and avoid it. If you're writing a G fic and it's not rated, I can guarantee you you're losing readers because of it. Don't use this one.

Genres (FFN):

Genre is a totally underrated aspect of the FFN tagging system, partly because it is horribly misused. It's hard to know what genres to tag, especially when your work is an amalgamation of a bunch of different genres. On top of that, you get to tag one before the other.

I don't want to run through each one, but I'll walk you through how to choose your two genre tags.

Step One – Necessary Tags: Some genres are far more important to tag than others. Here's a list of Genres you need to tag if it's a part of your story.

Horror: Believe it or not, a lot of people hate horror. Absolutely tag this so those of us who scare easily get a fair warning. Remember this will usually be an M rated fic.

Sci-Fi: This really is only important for non-sci-fi fandoms, but if you cast your heroes several thousand years into the future I want to know before I click on the story.

Parody: Note – this is different from humor, you don't need to tag a fic that's just funny. If you're not taking canon seriously, or just playing around with it for your own amusement, please let me know ahead of time.

Poetry: Cool underused writing style in fanfiction, you should definitely tag it.

But wait, what about my Twilight Fic where Bella is trapped on a spaceship avoiding a tentacle monster named Edward trying to bewitch her into falling in love through stares and sparkles written in blank verse?

First off, that's incredible and somebody should write that. Second of all, just choose two and roll with it. If you really need to know an order, Horror should probably come first, then Sci-fi, then Poetry, then Parody.

Step Two – Target Audience: Who are you writing for? Why are you writing this fic? Why is somebody going to click on this story? Here's a brief rundown.

Note: Don't use the general tag. Passerbys want to know what your story's about, and this tag doesn't help at all. I can guarantee that your fic fits at least one of the other genres.

Romance: Slash. Yuri. Yaoi. The singular het couple on AO3. This is the most popular genre, and people want to look for it! This is the single most important non-essential tag; if your story focuses on any kind of romance, let the crowd know! We'll get back to this in character tags.

Adventure: Perfect for fandoms like Pokemon or TES. If it's about the journey, this is the one for you.

Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy, Drama, Angst: For the feels. Up to you to chose which one fits best, but you probably only need one of these unless your story is specifically telling you otherwise.

Mystery, Crime, Supernatural, Suspense: If it would fit on an airport bookshelf with the other thrillers, one of these is the genre for you.

Everything Else: I think for the rest, it'll be pretty obvious which of these you want.

Remember that you don't need two genres. If you wrote a romance novel, it makes the most sense to tag it as pure romance! Similarly, if you have one important guiding genre and a bunch of others that are less important, just tag the important genre. Your tags should be the best summary of your fic possible given the limited system at hand.

Step Three: What Comes First?: So you've chosen one or two genres. If there's only one, great! You're done. If you have two, ask yourself which one is more important to the story, what feels right, or just what looks more aesthetically pleasing. Getting the tag down is what really matters, so you've already done the hard work. Go you!

Completeness:

Completeness can be changed in the Manage Stories screen on FFN in your profile, or by editing your story and entering the number of chapters on AO3. A lot of people filter out works in progress, so make your hard work known!

Alright, that's it for the easy stuff, now let's talk about…

Character Tags (FFN):

Okay, the two tagging systems are about as different as is physically possible, so I'm going to do each on separately. FFN is so much simpler and more efficient in terms of characters, so it's easier to cover. There are two main character tagging philosophies for FFN, so we'll go over both before we talk about AO3's bloated mess.

Philosophy One: Main Character or Main Relationship – This is far and away the easiest tagging philosophy to execute. Are there one or two characters who are most essential to your story, or whose perspective the reader gets to see? Tag just them, and you're done. Is the whole point of your story shipping your OTP? Just tag the romance and you're done. For this philosophy, you don't have to use all four spots – it's absolutely fine if you only use one or two.

Philosophy Two: All Four Tags – Basically after determining who you would tag for number one, choosing more characters so all four of your tagging spots are filled. People will often tag a secondary relationship here, or give some of their secondary characters a spotlight. It's important to remember that lots of people filter out by character, so if there's a character in your fandom who's much more popular than the rest, tagging them can increase your view count.

Note – Having no tags generally isn't advisable. There are still amazingly written and popular fics on FFN with no character tags, but you're not doing yourself any favors.

Character Tags (AO3):

So, this one's a little bit more complicated. First, let's breakdown what not to do.

Unlike FFN, you should have at least one character tag. AO3 gives you so much more freedom than FFN with tagging, so it's way more jarring when a fic is completely untagged.

Do NOT overtag. If you've ever been on AO3, you've probably seen the overtagged story too many times before. This is probably the single worst tagging mistake you can make, don't do it.

Don't name your OCs in your tags. Your original characters may be great, but that doesn't change the fact that nobody knows who they are unless they read the story. Stick to the ��Original Characters” tag and the gendered variants, no matter you have.

The most important thing about tagging on AO3 is something people forget far too often - Just because you can use as many tags as you want doesn't mean you should. This is the golden rule for tagging on AO3: You shouldn't have more than 10 character tags and 5 relationship tags with one massive exception, see below.

A couple more things:

Use the “Undisclosed Relationships” tag. You don't have to tag every relationship – surprise! If two side characters (read – not important) falling in love is a side plot that the story doesn't focus on, then you don't need to tag it! If two characters were dating in a flashback, you don't need to tag it! Keep your relationships tag to the important ones.

Usually, you shouldn’t tag platonic relationships. As a general rule of thumb, don’t tag these, because they’ll distract from your other relationships. However, if your story is gen (no shipping) then it’s okay to tag the main relationship your focusing on. To do this, tag it using the & sign instead of the / sign to indicate it’s a platonic relationship and not slash.

Relationship Tags are distracting. This might seem like a trivial point, but it’s actually really important to remember that relationship tags are designed to stand out. That’s why they have a gray background. If you have to many, it’s much harder to focus on your other tags.

None of the principles apply to smut. People are kinky. If you're writing a fic where you're shipping one character with literally everyone else from that fandom, feel free to tag every single pair/trio/orgy mentioned and shown in the fic. People want to know when their desired relationship is being shown, so tell them. Basically for Explicit fics only, but also might go for a big harem fic that's rated M/T.

Archive Warnings (AO3):

These aren't that hard to understand. If your characters are dying in droves, tag Major Character Death. If rape is mentioned, then tag Rape/Non-Con. If you're writing smut about fifteen year olds, tag Underage. If your characters are getting torn apart in a slow torturous death with lots of blood, tag Graphic Depictions of Violence.

Do not use “Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings.” Some writers accidentally equate this with “No Warnings Apply,” but it’s an instant red flag for most readers. It comes across as shady and untrustworthy, and readers won’t want to read your work.

There really shouldn't be any General rated stories with archive warnings. If you need to use them, then it's at least a Teen rated fic.

Content Tags (AO3):

Finally, we come to content tags. These pose an interesting question, because you can tag literally anything here. Your goal here should be to pose the more technical side of your summary – talk about plot points and devices here, not there. FFN doesn't give you that liberty, so you should take advantage of it.

What to put in your content tags:

Tropes: People search for things like “Soul Bond” or “Time Travel” all the time. You should absolutely be tagging these things, because they will attract your target audience to your story.

AUs: For all of the college and high school AUs out there. Not a bad idea to tag “AU – Canon Divergence” or “AU – Alternative History” if and when they apply.

Trigger Warnings: AO3's content warnings don't cover everything. You should tag specifications for general warnings, things like self-harm and bullying, and generally darker content.

Sexual Content: Tag your kinks, folks.

Alternative Relationship Tags: This is mostly personal preference, but I think tagging things like ship names should happen in the content tags, not the relationship tags. For example, my OTP has five different ship names and I tag them all, but I only put the “Character A/Character B” in the relationship tags. Again, remember that the gray can be super distracting and should be minimized.

Genre: Basically, follow the same Genre process as FFN or tag some more specific subgenres. Great examples would be tagging “Noir” or “Steampunk.”

Other Keywords: Most things should have been covered by the others, but any important one to three word descriptors can be added to.

What Not To Do:

Long Tags: No tag should ever be more than four words, unless it's something Canon specific.

Tumblr Tags: The tags are not a place for your meta thoughts. Throwing a “omg i need more coffee” or a “bumblebee is literally the cutest thing ever” says the same thing as the classic “I suck at summaries, read anyways.”

“I suck at summaries, read anyways.”: We've established this. If you tell me you suck at writing or “Why Did I Post This,” I will take your word for it and avoid your story.

Unimportant Tags: If it's not important to the story, don't tag it. So simple.

The discourse from the last post was amazing and a lot of people brought up awesome points. What's your personal tagging philosophy?

Thank you all, Allie

Support Me: Fanfiction.net - Archives of our Own

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #tagging

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cupkayke · 7 years

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Cupkayke Rewatches/Liveblogs Boueibu!

Season 1, Episode 4

I channeled En for about a week and was too lazy to quit playing Resident Evil and finish this liveblog buuuut better late than never, right?! I may only manage one of these a week but I just had a bunch of fanfic ideas (unrelated to watching the episode) so I figured I’d press onward and finish these. Mostly cuz I’m really interested in getting to season 2 because the Beppus are my favorite. But for now- IT’S THE EPISODE WHERE THEY GET BABYFIED! OMG CUTENESS ABOUND.

PS- I love the discussion that happened from my previous liveblog! Thank you @nardaviel, @angry-jewish-magical-girl (whom I cannot tag for some reason), @magiccatprincess and everyone else who contributed :3 ( @thatlittledandere I absolutely loved your flailing in your tags lol <3) Reactions make this a whole lot more fun for me- especially because the screencapping and formatting is so tedious. But anyway! ONWARD! I doubt this episode I’ll get that deep but WHO KNOWS.

OH HERE WE GO FEELS AND BACKSTORY

LOOK AT THE BABIES

Although why are they unsupervised in a field all alone as like elementary schoolers WTF WHERE ARE THEIR PARENTS?

Cliche wish upon a star!

Srz tho their voices are SO CUTE- who did they get for the baby voices???

Look at how cute blushy baby Atchan is!

BUT I AM A CHILD ATCHAN SO LOGICAL YET SO MUCH SHADE

CUTE BABY KINCHAN AND HIS ‘JUST IN CASE’ WISH AND HIS BLUSHING

Seriously look at this smol child. I think when I first watched the series this was the scene where I was first like “AWWW” at any of the SC.

-aaaaaand cut off

“Don’t mind me I’m just being broody and emo in the office with the lights out looking at the stars while I reminisce about my first love childhood friend who ditched me to go eat fucking curry with a pleb NBD I’M FINE”

That Arima Sass(tm) I didn’t remember him being so... memorable with his lines until this rewatch lol (oops I feel bad for ignoring him the first time around he’s so cute)

"Arima I s2g if you say one more word I will put snails on everything you own”

I didn’t cap this but in hindsight of the end of the season, his wish going from friendship to world domination is a perfect place for the “well that escalated quickly” meme…

Tickling Wombat looks so fun lol

I think I had a point about the ‘stink’ debate but I have since forgotten it so here have some silly screencaps of Wombat freaking out and Yumoto being adorable

QUICK SOMEONE WHO’S NEVER WATCHED BOUEIBU EXPLAIN WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE.

I mostly just love their faces lololololol I laughed for like 5 minutes after taking this

Side note- Poor Wombat- he’s a sentient creature that gets treated like a pet/plaything/child- no wonder he runs away from Yumoto every chance he gets

THE BIRTH OF WOM-SAN

More screencaps with no explanation other than I laughed harder than I should at them. THE EYES KIND OF REMIND ME OF HAYAO MIYAZAKI WHY?

Dads that are 12,000% done with this shit

En’s views on childishness/high school students in this scene is kind of telling- he seems overly image-conscious, yet he doesn’t want to be seen as old. Maybe Atsushi’s worrying is rubbing off on him?

Yumoto did you forget that you fight monsters on a weekly basis??? What ELSE is the definition of Superhero???

I wonder how they feel looking at basically a NAKED DEAD BODY all the time. It’s probably not fu- WAIT.

THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING

BUT WHEN I TOOK THIS SCREENCAP I CAME TO THE HORRIFYING REALIZATION THAT TAWARAYAMA-SENSI LOOKS JUST LIKE MY DAD

MY DAD USED TO BE A MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHER AND HAS GRAY POOFY HAIR AND A MUSTACHE AND NOW I CANNOT UNSEE IT

Cupkayke.exe has stopped working

anyway

WHAT IS IT WITH THE SIDE CHARACTERS AND FREAKY EYES IN THIS SHOW

Io all about that money. Why do I find this exchange hilarious?

WAS THAT TEASING

OMG YUMOTO AND HIS SENPAIS THIS IS ADORABLE

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART

Also I JUST NOTICED that Ryuu and Io’s washing supplies are color coded by their hair/battle lover outfits omg

Who was it who had that headcanon that their battle lover outfits were chosen because of their favorite colors?

Lololol well Ryuu is the youngest other than Yumoto, isn’t he?

En does have a point

But Ryuu’s views on his looks here are interesting- he knows he’s stereotypically ‘young’ looking, so he makes do with what he has and turns up the charm to 100

I mean... he’s good at it, too. Look at that last screencap.

Also Yumoto in that screencap is splashing water through his hands LOL EVEN IN THE BACKGROUND HE’S ENFORCING THE CHILDISH NARRATIVE

…what was the point of Yumoto interrupting there?

Did I miss a joke?

More on En’s view of age/maturity and Yumoto blowing bubbles like a child in the background

I can definitely see where Yumoto would rub some people the wrong way here- his childishness is being played too heavy-handedly to just be for laughs

But it’s necessary Boueibu format foreshadowing

Ryuu looking so cool, so casual washing his feet

HOW CHILD HOW

Also I definitely noticed the pink bath supplies in this screencap

Senior must not be a common term for students in Japanese

Lololol Ryuu so cheeky

I feel like this line would get localized into something really cheesy or lame like “old man” when dubbed into English

There we have it.

ALSO BUTTS

En’s age crisis- again, he has a desire not to be seen as immature and is quick to call out childish behavior in others, but the moment his attention is brought to how he might be percieved as ‘old’, he obsesses on the negative aspects of it instead of the positive- which he was stressing as the better option only moments before.

This is really interesting but I don’t quite know what to make of it. If he doesn’t want to be seen as childish, but doesn’t want to be seen as old, what does he want to be seen as? Simply exactly his age? Boy, En, I have news for you... unless you’re a genetic miracle, no one looks exactly their age.

Seriously I’m twenty-fucking-five and I STILL get carded everywhere because I look 18 T_____T

YUMOTO YOU DON’T NEED TO BE BALD

GLAMOR SHOTS TIME

STARTING WITH RYUU’S ASS

I KNOW EVERYBODY AND THEIR BROTHER HAS TAKEN THIS SCREENCAP BUT DAMMIT JUST LET ME-

...bubble butt, bubble bubble bubble butt~

Yumoto your laugh is creepy

Again Io being sexy

En you aren’t fooling anyone, Atsushi’s using his glamor shot to worry about you- even tho my screencap apparently missed the caption

And then they keep splashing like kids lol

What a nickname

I’ve noticed the SC almost always speaks in a certain order- Arima, Akoya, Kinshirou

Is this on purpose or just arbitrary?

…morning cuddles…

Gora: “...dafuq kind of club is this defense club???”

AND DIRECTLY CONTRADICTING THE LAST EPISODE YUMOTO IS NOT INTERESTED IN PICKING UP GIRLS

This definitely supports the ‘cumpulsory heterosexuality’ theory, however; Yumoto last episode was talking about girls in a polite, “this is what I’m supposed to do” kind of way. This episode, he must feel freer with his feelings that he can admit that he’s not interested to his senpais.

Or maybe cuddling Wombat is just WAY more fun than all of those things lol

EN STOP IT YOU ARE NOT OLD-

OH. It’s a vanity thing, is it?

Wow Atsushi talk about throwing shade

Srz is that any way to talk to your boyfriend???

I wish I knew what animes they were referencing - I took a bunch of caps here but they’re not really relevant I guess unless someone wants to tell me what they’re talking about

En basically called Atsushi an otaku ffft

WHY ARE YOU PETTING EN YUMOTO

HIS HAIR IS NOWHERE NEAR AS FLUFFY AS YOURS

Though En definitely looks cute when he’s being tickled... ok Yumoto carry on

….Ryuu what are you talking about approximately no one is fooled by your indifference

TICKLE FIGHT

This scene is adorable - THE BLUSHES

So many laughs

YUMOTO NOTICING THAT AND NOT HAVING ANY REACTION

Aww they’re all so smol

Also the rest of them, their eyes were kept proportionate to their bodies but LOOK AT EN

His eyes are like waaaaay bigger and innocent

Double AWWW

The nodding at Yumoto’s stupidity lolol

Tho Yumoto still manages to be adorable wtf look at his happy face

Your hair is VERY pink like why

BABY TRANSFORMATIONS AWWW

But seriously the ‘love making’ thing sounds SOOOO inappropriate coming out of smol Yumoto

Like when Wombat said it I cringed

If it weren’t for the gutter my mind would be homeless

THE BAGGY CLOTHES

Hi there, fourth wall

Omg Ryuu why are you so cute

SMOL POWERS

Tripping on the clothes or perhaps because of little legs

NOW IO IS TOO ADORABLE FOR WORDS STAHHHHHHP

No seriously look at his face!

Though his pupils are two different sizes in this screencap lol

CHILD ENDANGERMENT DUDE

Atchan with more fourth wall breaking

And they figured out the enemy very quickly! They seem more observant as children than they are regularly

Okay, they say kindergarteners but they look like 3 year olds or babies

I CANNOT at Ryuu’s hair spikes getting smaller and less detailed

Also his face reminds me that his voice in this scene is hysterical

THE MODESTY LEAVES

ATSUSHI WHY IS YOUR BUTT IN THE AIR STOP THAT

En and the fourth wall for the third time

RYUU WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOUR PENIS

And you’d think image-conscious Atsushi would be the one most embarrassed about being naked babies in public but NO APPARENTLY IO IS SUPER SHY

Sad baby Io sounds so pathetic

And Ryuu hardly seems worried

Yumoto rolled a perception check and got a 20 like whoah

RYUU AND EN ARE SAVAGE AF

SMOL NAKED BABIES ATTEMPTING TO LOOK BADASS- all except Io who just wants the fuck out of here lol

How are they even still able to fight?? Their powers were diminished earlier??? Is it because they realized it was an illusion?

CHUBBEH BABY BUTT

AAAAND NAKED IN PUBLIC

Did their clothes just vanish???

And Io’s STILL embarrassed.

Meanwhile Yumoto has his priorities straight I guess

Also WHY IS IT SUDDENLY NIGHTTIME WASN’T IT JUST MORNING CUDDLES TIME???

YOU’RE JUST WORRIED ABOUT THEM BEATING YOU I MEAN C’MON AT LEAST LAUGH AT THEIR NUDITY

OH IT’S NIGHT SO HE CAN LOOK AT THE STARS AND REMEMBER THINGS AGAIN THAT’S WHY IT ALL HAS TO COME FULL CIRCLE BECAUSE PLOT

Ryuu you have no tact sheesh

Atsushi is STILL throwing shade like a pro. He must take lessons from Arima the sass master.

And we end on Atsushi reminiscing about Kinshirou and their stargazing adventures but THIS BOTHERS ME BECAUSE OF COURSE YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT HE WISHED FOR YOU DIP. Context wise, it’s obvious Kinshirou told him. I mean, he might be meaning he’s since forgotten the wish (which would explain his falling out with Kinshirou in another dimension other than the curry thing) but showing that flashback in such detail and then having Atsushi remember it (or hinted that he remembers it) but without hinting that he knows what Kinshirou wished for is just kind of.... idk it bothers me. That line wasn’t 100% necessary, or perhaps it could have been something like “I don’t remember what he wished for”. Of course, for all I know he could have said that but crunchyroll could have translated it poorly idk.

Buuuut that’s the end! That was mostly just an enjoyable “aww” episode with not a lot of substance other than we discover that Kinshirou is dramatic AF, En is self conscious (perhaps even moreso than Atsushi, or possibly just vain) and Io is definitely embarrassed by public nudity. Hm. Maybe you guys have some more intelligent commentary.

I’m gonna shoot to get Ep 5 done in the next couple days (maybe hours... but this shit takes forever) because I want to finish compiling all this stuff so I can get to writing these plot bunnies that just bit me in the ass... buuuut I need research. Man... En the lazy is definitely my spirit animal OTL

#cupkayke rewatches boueibu #cupkaykey rewatches boueibu #boueibu #binan koukou chikyuu bouei bu love!#binan kōkō chikyū bōei bu love!#binan high school earth defense club love!#Binan Koukou Chikyuu Bouei-bu LOVE!#Cute High Earth Defense Club Love!#boueibu meta

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