#“read” and then there's not a single written word

[amandakassis]

I haven’t written a single word for my Divergent fanfic over the past 20 days. I’ll try my best this weekend but it’s so sad to see kudos and views but only a couple of people taking the time to actually say what they thought about it—and, hey, I’m so grateful for them.

As long as it is constructive, I’m more than happy to hear your thoughts about my stories. They mean so much to me.

I write when I’m sad.

I write to not go insane.

Sometimes I live through those stories because my reality is… Painful. Anxious. Lonely.

So… Please, if you read something. Say something. For any writer. Just take one single minute of your time. We really appreciate it!

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[tavolgisvist]

That evening in the dressing-room of the cinema at York two girls came in and asked to interview them. They said they wanted the interview so they could make a tape of it for a third girl who was ill in hospital. John sat in a corner away from the group. ‘It’s probably just an excuse to get into our dressing-room,’ he says. ‘Anyway women should be obscene and not heard.’ ‘Switch it on now,’ says Paul conducting the interview for the bewildered girls. ‘What’s your name?’ he asks Ringo. ‘John’, says Ringo. He then asks the girls their names. ‘How did you like Germany when you were there?’ asks the girl whose name is Eileen. ‘We liked it fine,’ says Paul. ‘It was hard work,’ says Ringo. ‘Yeah’, says George. All during the interview they sign autograph books that had been sent to their dressing-room, and when they aren’t actually answering a question they read letters from fans. The girls walk over to John. ‘How do you write the songs ?’ says the girl whose name is Daphne. John doesn’t answer. Paul shouts across the room in a voice you use to an errant child, ‘Tell us about the songs, John, tell us about the songs.’ ‘Sometimes we write them together’, says John. ‘Sometimes not. Some of them take four hours; some twenty minutes. Others have been known to take as long as three weeks.’ ‘What’s your favourite song that you’ve written?’ ‘I think “Glad All Over”,’ says Paul, opening his eyes even wider. ‘No, I’m kidding. I think at the moment it’s our new record “I want to hold your hand”. Is that all right ?’ ‘Yes, that’s fine,’ says Eileen. ‘Thank you very much indeed.’ ‘Oh dear,’ says Daphne. ‘It doesn’t seem to have been recording. Sorry about that.’ <…> Inside, the compere is asking: ‘Do you want to see John?’ (Screams.) ‘George?’ (Screams.) ‘Paul?’ (Screams.) ‘Ringo?’ (Pandemonium.) They appear, and all during their act a man in a dinner jacket stands in front of the stage looking bewildered. The girls wave, hold up pictures, and scream. <…> Paul runs off stage shouting, ‘Oh my God, my ulcer. Nell, do you have a ciggy?’ Aspinall alternately hands him a cigarette and leads him toward the stage door where their car is waiting to take them to the hotel. <…>

The Beatles are in their hotel bedrooms finishing their dinners. George feels tired and goes to sleep. John, wearing a T-shirt and an old pair of trousers, wanders down the hallway past the guard, into the room shared by Paul and Ringo. The table filled with the empty dinner dishes is at the foot of Ringo’s bed. Ringo, dressed in pyjamas, is sitting up in bed. Paul, also in pyjamas, is talking about a film, The Trial, which he has just seen in London. He is describing a scene in which there is a misunderstanding about a word, when the telephone rings. ‘Hello, helloho,’ says Paul in a falsetto and then, realizing it is a friend, says Hello seriously. <…> ‘What I liked best in The Trial’, he says, ‘was when they walked quietly through the concentration camp. It was so dead quiet, just like another world and Elsa Martinelli in the background just necking like mad.’ <…> ‘Uh, I need another drink, baby,’ says John. Paul goes to the phone. ‘Hello? Yeah, send us six single Scotches - No, make it doubles, yeah, doubles.’ <…> They started discussing the feelings of adults towards pop music. ‘We’re definitely fighting a prejudice,’ says John. ‘That’s why I’m interested in John getting his book out,’ says Paul. ‘I mean, I haven’t got a cut or anything. It’s just that one of us would be doing something to make people notice. I mean, it’s the same as if one of us wrote a musical. People would get rid of their prejudice and stop thinking that pop people can only sing or go into a dance routine.’ <…> ‘You remember after that big spate of publicity we got in the national papers,’ says John, ‘which was uncalled for by our office. We were news at the time, and it only just happened we clicked in fourteen editors’ minds at the same time. One day Paul was ill and I believe one of the papers wanted a picture of him. Nell told them they couldn’t have it, and the photographer said: “You mean, after all the publicity we gave them – we made them.” I’d like to meet this fella who said it.’ Paul explained that they never talk to the teenage magazines. ‘They just make it up. I think they prefer it that way…’

(Love Me Do. The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun, 1963/1995)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI), (VII), (VIII)

(+ about Paul's flue)

[captainsophiestark]

Oblivious

Damon Salvatore x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024! Requested by @elenavampire21 - hope you like it! Thanks for being patient while I got it done!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Day Thirty-One Prompt: "It's always been you."

Summary: You've always felt like the lowest priority out of everyone in the Mystic Falls group, but Damon disagrees.

Word Count: 1,905

Category: Fluff, light Angst

A/N: That's a wrap on Fictober baby! Woohoo! And Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I hummed to myself as I scanned my bookshelf, trying to decide which one to grab. Since moving into college at Whitmore, I'd mostly just brought my favorites, since I didn't have much book space to spare in my single dorm room. But bringing all of my favorites made it a little hard to decide what to read on any given day.

I'd just about made up my mind, actually reaching out to grab one when the door to my room went flying open, smashing into the opposite wall.

I whirled around, my fight or flight response kicking into overdrive as I tried to remember where the nearest stake was in my room. I'd been dragged into the supernatrual drama just by being tangental to a certain friend group in Mystic Falls, which meant I was on high alert for supernatural threats. This weekend in particular, everyone I knew was back in Mystic Falls for a visit and a party.

At least, they were supposed to be. As I whipped around towards the door, I came face to face with none other than Damon Salvatore.

My heart started a very annoying gymnastics routine. I'd had a crush on Damon for a long time, despite knowing all his supernatural secrets, but with Elena around he'd never bothered to give me the time of day. I'd made my peace with it, more or less, but suddenly finding him standing in the doorway of my room, his piercing blue eyes fixed absolutely on me, still sent my heart racing.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I demanded, fixing Damon with the fiercest glare I could muster. Probably not very fierce at the moment, but I did my best.

"You should really keep this locked," Damon drawled instead of answering me. I scowled as he closed the door behind him, then took a few steps closer to me.

"We're in a crowded student dorm hall. It's normally not a problem."

"Well, it's a problem now."

Damon grinned at me, making a point of flashing his fangs. My scowl deepened.

"Do you not have to be invited in to student housing?" I asked, trying to deflect and distract Damon from paying any attention to my heartbeat. His grin only widened.

"Nope. I've used that to my advantage many times."

I tried to keep a grimace off my face at that. I knew enough about Damon and his history to realize he was refering to past hookups as much as anything else. Not my favorite subject to get into with him.

I cleared my throat, trying to push the thoughts out of my mind. I met Damon's gaze again and raised an eyebrow, going for casual and just hoping I could kind of pull it off.

"Why are you here?" I said. "Aren't you supposed to be hosting a party in Mystic Falls?"

"Aren't you supposed to be at that party with me?" Damon asked, voice low as he took another few steps towards me. I let out a little huff and looked away.

"Believe it or not, I'm not in the mood to go running back home every weekend that I'm at college. I have work to do and people I want to spend time with this weekend, both of which require me to stay here."

Damon stepped even closer to me, getting in my space and moving to try to see my expression. When I continued to look away from him, he took my chin in his hand and turned me to face him. I scowled, but didn't pull away.

"I don't believe you."

"What do you mean 'you don't believe me'?"

"I mean, when you explained your reasoning to me just now, your heartbeat told me you were lying." I frowned, but Damon just leaned in a little closer, his grip still tight on my chin. "So why aren't you in Mystic Falls?"

I huffed and rolled my eyes, finally pulling back and out of his grip. He let me go, but took a few steps to follow me across the room as I walked away.

"I'm just sick of all the supernatural drama," I said. "It's been nice to be here, building something separate from which vampire we're trying to kill this week, or which werewolf is trying to kill us. I'm happy here, and I don't want to blow all that up by going home and finding myself in the middle of the supernatural drama again."

Damon hummed. Nothing I'd said was a lie, technically, so he couldn't call me out like he had earlier. I kept my back to him so he couldn't read it in my face either.

"I guess that's the truth," Damon said, his voice way too casual. "But I know you well enough to know it's not the whole truth."

I snorted, then whipped around to face Damon with a scowl.

"Why do you care? I gave you an explanation, and it's the truth, so it's all you're getting."

Damon shook his head as he stepped even closer to me.

"Not gonna work for me, sweetheart. I'm not leaving here without the whole truth."

"Why? Damon, seriously, why is this so important to you?"

"Because. Now are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to compel it out of you?"

He wiggled his eyebrows at me, but I just rolled my eyes.

"We both know I'm on vervain, so knock it off. Just go back to Mystic Falls. Flirt with Elena to mess with your brother, whatever! Just leave me alone!"

"I don't want to flirt with Elena," Damon said, taking another step towards me. His voice was low, and more serious than I usually heard it, as his eyes locked onto mine. "I want to flirt with you, no one else. It's always been you."

Everything about Damon's tone and body language told me he was serious, but I knew what a good actor he could be when he wanted to. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms and squaring my shoulders to face Damon.

"Oh please. It's always been Elena, from day one with you! And the handful of times it hasn't been Elena? It's been just about anybody else in our group besides me. Caroline, that reporter Andie, the vampire Rose who kidnapped Elena... hell, even Rebekah Mikaelson! But never once me, Day."

Damon's frown had deepend, and he actually looked a little wounded. He took another step closer, almost putting us chest to chest, and opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but I put up a hand to stop him before he could get a word out.

"It's fine, Damon. Seriously, it's not a crime for you to not reciprocate my feelings. And I'm not avoiding Mystic Falls all because of some one-sided crush. But, seriously. Bonnie, Caroline, and Elena were supposed to be in a triple together. Nobody even checked with me, if I might want to join them in a dorm, since we were all going to Whitmore. I know I got sucked into the group by accident and not really by friendship, but for fuck's sake, I've thrown myself headfirst into this world and trying to help you guys, and still, it's like I'm barely even present. So I decided to say screw it, and I've made a bunch of great friends here outside of all this vampire shit, and I'm happy with that. So just go back to your party and leave me alone. I'd say pass the message on, but I doubt if anybody else'll notice."

Damon's frown had been steadily deepening the whole time I'd been speaking, and now he looked truly upset. I'd confessed a little more to him in the heat of the moment than I'd been planning to, but my words were still true. Maybe it was time for a full break from the rest of the Mystic Falls gang, and maybe this was how I got it done.

"Are you... absolutely blind?" Damon demanded, reaching out to take my hands before I could stop him. "I'll admit, when I first met Elena, she looked so much like Katherine that I was a little hung up on her. But I got over her when I got over Katherine. All I've been doing since a few weeks after I met you is trying to flirt with you! You've always shut me down!"

"What? Damon, you're crazy-"

"I abandoned Ric at the bar to buy you a drink and play pool. I blew off Stefan to go to some stupid Mystic Falls festival with you. For god's sake, I even asked you on a date after your graduation!"

"No no no, that was playful flirting. And the date thing was to make Elena jealous!"

"The date thing was not to make Elena jealous!"

I laughed, mostly out of panic, shaking my head and stepping back from Damon. He didn't let me get far. He followed me across the room until my back hit the wall, and then stepped into my space again. I looked up at him with wide eyes, and I knew he could hear just how fast my heart was beating.

"Damon, come on. You're... you. If you'd had a thing for me for over a year, there's no way I wouldn't know about it!"

"That's what I kept telling myself," he muttered. The faintest possible smile made its way onto his face. "I'm actually a little relieved it turns out you're just oblivious."

I snorted, but my heart had picked up speed again, which honestly shouldn't have been possible. If Damon were lying... well, it didn't make sense for Damon to be lying. There was no reason for him to come all the way down here, especially while everyone else in our group was throwing a party at his house, all for a lie with no real motivation.

I searched Damon's face, this time without a scowl. He smirked back at me and let his gaze slowly, clearly wander down to my mouth. I laughed.

"You're serious, aren't you? You're telling the truth."

"Of course I'm telling the truth," he said. His voice was more sincere and serious than it had been since he'd walked into my room as the smirk on his face became more of a smile. Slowly, he let one hand wander down to rest on my waist. I bit my lip, considering for just a second, then surged forward and kissed him.

Damon wasted no time pushing me against the wall and kissing me back. I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting myself get lost in the moment.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back to Mystic Falls?" I breathed between kisses as Damon moved along my neck and jaw. "You're missing a party in your own house."

"I'm sure. I hid all my good booze before I left. And I hate to rub it in, but..." Damon pulled back just enough to look me in the eye and let a predatory grin spread across his face. "I'm pretty happy you ended up in a single dorm room right now."

I laughed, something I honestly never thought I'd be able to do about the way I'd ended up in this single dorm room. Leave it to Damon to find a way to make it happen, despite the odds.

It'd taken a lot more drama and heartache than it should've to get here. Still, as Damon wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight to his chest, I got the distinct impression that it would be worth it.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[classygreydove]

kkob/obkk fic recs

5 kkob fics that are criminally underrated - obv we all love rocks fall; scene end, Kamui Blues, and New Recruit, (if you haven't read those, I highly recommend them) but these works deserve some appreciation too!

kakaobi fluff series by Eye_like_trauma - 6k, ONGOING

G, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito. Just a lot of fluff, crushes, and pining.

[dove's notes: Every single on of these one-shots is just precious. And also makes me laugh so hard. Peak content for this ship.]

2. Hey, Wouldn't It Be Mortifying If We Both Survived This? by Eye_like_trauma - 4k, COMPLETE

T, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Kakashi & Minato & Rin & Obito. Kannabi fix-it, love confessions, feelings realization, first kiss, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort

Obito can’t hear anything beyond the cave crumbling around them, thousands of tons of rock cascading down and crushing everything it can. Can’t see beyond the dust in the air, the vibrations of the world around him. Couldn’t, anyway, because he can barely keep his eyes open. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers into Kakashi’s hair. He knows Kakashi won’t hear him. Wouldn’t, even if he were conscious. That’s okay; the words are as much for him as they’re for Kakashi. He presses himself closer, focuses on the warmth of Kakashi as the world fades in and out, as every bit of remaining light is snuffed and he can feel debris falling on every side of them, huge and heavy and deadly, if they’re hit. He can’t feel Kakashi’s heart beat past the world falling in on itself, but he tells himself it’s there, tells himself that Kakashi’s not dead.

[dove's notes: literally my favorite confession fic. i laughed, cried a little, and felt many fuzzy feelings. bb tsundere kakashi is adorable.]

3. The Things We Found in the Ashes of Our World by shefrommo - 40k, ONGOING

M, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Sukea/Tobi, strangers to friends to enemies, identity shenanigans

Ironically enough, Kakashi didn't start having treasonous thoughts until after he'd already committed treason. __ Or, during a mission gone wrong, Kakashi discovers Obito's alive. He never comes back from that mission. Five years later, Team Seven stumbles across a pair of Akatsuki members--both of whom are working under false identities, both of whom were declared dead years ago.

[dove's notes: Incomplete, but so so good. Tobi and Sukea (and their headspaces) are both very well-written, as is the relationship chemistry. The identity shenanigans are great.]

4. Quiet Revolutions by Anjelle - 68K, ONGOING

T, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Sakumo & Kakashi, Sakumo & Obito. Canon div, dogteeth!kk, Hidden Cloud Village worldbuilding, Identity Shenanigans, Secret Identity, anbu!obito, enemies to friends to lovers

Tensions are running high between Kumo and Konoha. Between the targeting of the Hyuga clan for their Byakugan and an unknown ANBU running interference on missions, their tentative alliance is strained and war is just one slip-up away. Not wanting any part in this, Obito is dragged into it anyway when he's given a mission to find out who instigated the attack. Instead, he gets more than he bargained for when a certain Kumo-nin lies in wait on the other side of Kamui. OR: Due to extenuating circumstances, Kakashi grows up in Kumo and decides that this strange, masked ANBU skulking around his village would make for a fun distraction from his boredom.

[dove's notes: I really enjoyed the dynamics here. obito is bamf but also an idiot. kakashi is bamf but also an idiot. so canon dynamic, pretty much. also identity intrigue, worldbuilding, this fic is full of good stuff.]

5. Truth and what it takes (and what it gives) - 11K, COMPLETE

M, Graphic Depictions of Violence. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, TW for mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation, Hurt/Comfort, Blood & Gore

"Kakashi's pupils are wide and fixed, like those of dead animals. The Uchiha has never seen him with that expression before. Obito wonders if he’s dreaming it, then he notices the metallic edges around his frame. The sink. A mirror. He’s looking through Kakashi’s eyes."

[dove's notes: very good relationship study of obkk during kakashi's anbu era, and the writing style is riveting. Dark, so not for fluff fans.]

[suhnandmoon]

chapter twenty three: serious route

please read the chapter 23 nav before you read!!!

disclaimer: don't perceive this. i don't really like to make written chapters but i thought i'd pay tribute to my og queen (2021 starlight) and try to redeem her. i'd rather you read route 2

warnings: kidnapping, forced unconsciousness

you woke up in a daze. it was unlike the last time you woke up in a foreign setting– mark’s guest room at 3am was starting to sound a lot more pleasant than you remembered– but this time you were slumped over, seated on a tree stump in the middle of the forest. the sky was pitch black with only a small fire and a few flashlights illuminating the area.

across the bonfire, you saw three figures talking lowly. you were paralyzed, recognizing one of the people to be eric. 

mind racing, you tried to think of the best possible escape route but upon shifting slightly, the pressure on your ankles indicated that your feet were bound together with rope.

“how long is she out for?” one of the voices asked, causing you to freeze. feigning unconsciousness was probably the best way to keep attention off of you, though you weren’t sure if you could keep the act up due to your full body shaking in fear.

“how the hell would i know. i just found out last week that i could even make people fall asleep.” a slightly deeper voice replied.

“well, let’s just hope she doesn’t wake up. makes things easier for us in negotiation.” you recognized the last voice to be eric, though it wasn’t surprising to you that he brought you there.

“shit- i think she’s awake. i hear her heart rate getting faster.” the first vampire commented. your stomach dropped immediately.

“you can hear fucking heartbeats?” eric asked incredulously, earning a punch on the shoulder from the other vampire.

“we all can if you focus, idiot.”

as they began bickering, you prayed they somehow forgot about you. eyes still closed, you hadn’t realized you shut them tighter as the first boy approached you.

“yn?” he said softly, catching you off guard. there was no malice in his tone. it was a completely different attitude than what you were expecting, especially after the run-in with sunwoo.

you opened an eye slightly to see your captor. he looked to be about your age as well. though knowing he was a vampire, that didn’t do much to help you. his friendly smile and round glasses caused him to look more unassuming than you thought he would, but you kept your guard up.

he let out a genuine chuckle at your attempt to crack your eye open without making it obvious you were awake.

“i know you’re awake.” he took a step closer, instinctively causing you to lean back, though you noticed he kept a respectful distance, “i’m sorry about all this. i’m changmin.”

“i know this looks bad but i promise we’re not gonna hurt you, we just need to,,” changmin paused to chose his words carefully. “use you as leverage for lack of a better explanation.”

you battled with the instinct lingering in your mind to trust him, “why kidnap me again? sunwoo already tried and it didn’t work.”

“because sunwoo’s a dumbass who hasn’t practiced self restraint a single day in his life-” the boy previously bickering with eric yelled from behind changmin.

“juyeon, shut the hell up, would you?” changmin tossed his complaint over his shoulder before turning back to you, “we’re doing what sunwoo should have done. he shouldn’t have taken it as far as he did. but as of right, we believe this is the only way for us to negotiate.”

“you’re a vampire now so i would hope you understand where we’re coming from,” eric’s tone was not as friendly as changmin, yet still sincere, “this deal we have with them- it’s a restriction that doesn’t do us any favor. we’re just trying to get them to let up on how much blood we can take from humans each month. its ridiculous.”

“this animal shit- it’s so fucking stupid. we’re vampires. they can take their moral high ground, but they can’t deny what we actually need.” juyeon added on.

“isn’t the agreement in place mainly so we don’t get found out?” you wish your voice came out stronger than it actually sounded, the slight shake in your voice giving you away.

“so? who cares. anyone who finds us out won’t know for much longer.” eric shrugged casually, sending a chill down your spine. for a moment, hearing them converse and bicker gave them a sense of humanity though they were your captors, but eric’s indifference toward the weight of a human life reminded you just how different you truly were. 

“anyways. yn, your friends are going to be showing up soon,” changmin changed the subject and redirected his focus back on you, “we might make threats toward you, just know we’re not actually going to hurt you. we just need to scare them. no promises about not harming the guys though.”

“now why would you tell her that? she’s gonna tell them she’s okay.” eric retaliated. 

if the adrenaline in your system wasn’t so high, you would’ve found the nerve to actually be annoyed at their constant back and forth. but you didn’t have that much time to think about it before juyeon was muttering some insult at eric and walking over to you.

with one wave over your head, you were back out of it, slumping back down.

_______

it wasn’t long after your short moment of consciousness that the boys had found the location sent to them by juyeon. jeno was the only one to have stayed behind, keeping an eye out for chaeryoung as a precaution.

when they arrived to the scene, they were met with the looming figures of eric, changmin, and juyeon standing over the bonfire. eric held your slumped body close, making it clear that they had the advantage

seeing you like this for the second time caused renjun to step out, calling your name. mark had to reach out his arm to stop him from escalating anything too quickly, as eric made a show of tightening his hold upon renjun’s approach. this was sick.

they slowly approached them, closing the distance so they could talk.

“you brought us here to make compromises.” mark called out, keeping his tone neutral. “where’s your leader then?”

juyeon scoffed, glaring at the six. “this isn’t a compromise. we want this whole thing dropped.” he corrected.

“sangyeon’s the only one of you who can make that call.” the edge on mark’s voice was intimidating, but it didn’t phase the opposing team.

“i think you’re forgetting who we have here.” eric spoke up to defend his friend with a laugh, but it only caused donghyuck to scoff at the act.

“i think you’re forgetting you’re outnumbered, dumbass.” donghyuck mocked, causing eric to step forward in retaliation, briefly forgetting about his grasp on you. 

renjun and jisung quickly took that opportunity catch him off guard. with his grip on you loosened, renjun pulled you away while jisung distracted eric. this action erupted a fight out of the rest of the boys; mark, hyuck, and jaemin moving to keep juyeon and changmin away from you.

it was less of a fight, more of a tussle, when renjun extracted you from the scene. it luckily couldn’t escalate into anything serious when a deep shout could be heard several feet away from the area.

the sound of the voice immediately sent the three boys into a halt, as if they had just been commanded to freeze.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” the words grew distinguishable as the owner of the voice emerged from the trees. it was none other than lee sangyeon himself, as mark was smart enough to shoot him the location his own boys had sent them.

eric, juyeon, and changmin all looked at each other, expecting someone to speak up. their previously serious demeanor had a complete 180. they all looked like children caught red-handed.

“helping you?” juyeon was the first to break their silence, “sangyeon, you’ve been working yourself to death these last few months. the least we could do was resolve this issue for you.”

the firm look in sangyeon’s eyes almost dissipated at the sentiment, but he stood his ground with crossed arms.

“and how exactly would kidnapping their friend resolve any kinds of issues with them?” he almost laughed at the stupidity of it all.

“we were never gonna hurt her! we just needed to negotiate-” changmin defended their plan, earning a gasp from jaemin, “anyways, we wanted to alleviate your stress with the negotiation so taking care of it ourselves was our best option” 

their leader sighed. his lips parted, attempting to string together what he wanted to say before finally speaking up, “that's not why i’ve been busy.”

“its not? why do you get so touchy everytime its brought up?” eric pushed back.

“we’re moving. i’ve been trying to find a city without a large vampire presence so we don’t butt heads like this.” he referenced the silent group of boys just observing the dispute; unnecessarily pulled into this shit. “that’s why i’ve been stressed. no other reason.”

he turned to all of you. “i’m sorry about them. you can have my word this time that this will never happen again. i should’ve kept them in the loop.”

sangyeon nodded and guided the boys out of the forest, leaving the rest of you slightly baffled and annoyed in his wake, though you, of course, were still yet to wake up.

“well that was pointless.” chenle barked out a frustrated laugh, almost amused at how unnecessary that all was.

“and they never even apologized.” hyuck rolled his eyes, beginning their own trek out of the forest. “here in the middle of nowhere for nothing. fucking idiots.”

“at least yn’s safe.” mark tried to sympathize to avoid escalating their emotions, “let’s just get the hell out of here.

“don’t have to tell me twice,” hyuck called out, already a few feet ahead of everyone else.

[chilling-seavey]

Okay this THIS was...DREAMY. Oh my gosh this was dreamy. It read like a freaking hazy reverie of loveliness...every single word. Every dialogue, every little description, every little touch was right where it needed to be and written just how it was meant to be...my God.

"But George doesn't deal in excuses. He feels it, so he says it."

Now I'm pathetically in yearning hours so thanks so much, op 😭😭

say again

george russell x reader | 3.9k

three times george curses. or, a beginning, a middle, and a future.

cw: george cursing. a few scrapes and a little bit of blood, some kissing, and a love confession to boot.

a/n: this kind of ran away from me, especially in the middle but every time george russell says fuck an angel gets its wings. written ages ago but posting in honor of Las Vegas.

---

YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME

The door buzzes and you let yourself into the building.

You've only been here a few times, but a match day spent with your coworker and some of her friends is better than sitting on your couch alone, right? Wine and cookies in hand, you trudge up two flights of stairs to her flat. By the time you reach the landing, you can already hear the chatter and the TV.

No one seems to hear your knock so you push the door open and gingerly step in. The kitchen is on the other side of the flat, and you assume everyone is somewhere between there and the television.

But when you pass the living room where the TV actually is, there's just one guy on the couch. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees watching a penalty get called.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he says to no one.

You snicker. He whirls around. "Hello," you say.

"Sorry," he says, standing immedietly. Wow, he's tall. "Sorry, hello."

Oh, and he's familiar. You know him, kind of. He's -- god, he races cars, right? Shit, what is his name? Your coworker has social connections you barely understand so it's not really a surprise to find someone who is probably famous in her flat.

"It is just you, then?" you ask. He laughs and runs a hand through his hair. Dressed in jeans and a team jumper, his casual outfit is at odds with the severe cut of his jaw, his cheekbones. He just looks expensive.

"No," he says. "No, everyone is putting plates together. I'm afraid I might be the one most interested in watching the match."

"Not going well?" you say lightly.

He rounds the sofa, hand out. "Could be better," he says. "I'm George."

You readjust the items in your hands to shake his and tell him your name. He repeats it, and you smile.

"Let me go put these down," you say, "and then, um. Do you want some company, George?"

Honestly, you're not sure where that came from. But, though you came here to escape the smothering loneliness of your own flat, something about him makes you want to stay here rather than go into the kitchen with everyone else.

"'Course I do," he says. "I promise to tighten up my language. Won't do for that to be my first impression."

You wave him away though your cheeks feel a little hot and head for the kitchen.

Your coworker brightens at seeing you and takes your hostess gifts with ease.

"The match is on in the other room," she tells you, "but most of us are drinking in here."

"I saw," you say. "I met George."

She hears something in your tone that turns her expression something between amused and calculating. "You did, did you?"

You just nod, loading up a plate with the various nibbles. "How do you know him, anyway?"

She shrugs. "Oh, you know." No, you don't, but she plows on. "What did you think?"

"Taller than he seems on TV," you mutter. "But very polite. He shook my hand."

That gets her to laugh. "Oh, of course he did. Well, don't stand around in here with us. Go chat up a Formula 1 driver!"

George is back on the couch when you return, arm stretched over the back of it, brows furrowed.

"Has anything exciting happened?" you ask him, sitting down with a perfectly responsible distance between you.

He grimaces. "Nothing good. Wolverhampton, bless 'em, are quite bad."

That might explain why no one is watching this match with him, but you keep that to yourself.

"I see," you say, solemnly. "But loyalty is loyalty, I suppose, if they're your club."

"Exactly," George says. "It's suffering but it has to be done." Someone on the screen triggers a free kick and George leans in until it's over. He starts talking about one of the players being traded, or his contract being renegotiated, or something. You nibble on your plate and just watch. He's animated, this man. Fringe falling over his forehead the more he gestures, blue eyes wide and serious. It's all very endearing.

"Sorry," he says suddenly. "I'm being so rude. You don't want to hear about all of this, do you?"

You smile at him. "I don't mind. I came over for some company more than anything else."

He sinks back into the couch a little, hand running through his hair again. "Well, lucky for me that you did," he says.

Your face feels hot and you don't want to mistake this for flirting if it's not. He is a world-famous athlete, after all, but here you are on the couch next to him. "Lucky for you, indeed."

He laughs, delighted.

OH, SHIT!

This is not how you saw your life going, but maybe that's just the nature of it. Big moments happen just the same as small ones and we have to handle them regardless. The trajectory of your life shifted just a little bit when you sat down on someone else's couch to watch a football match with a stranger.

Because that stranger -- George -- is now much more than that. He asked for your number that day before he had to leave earlier than everyone else, and has been speaking to you ever since. Texts, phone calls, FaceTimes. And, when he's not driving hundreds of miles an hour halfway across the world, he likes to spend time with you.

They're dates, you know they are. But things are still casual, immensely so. Coffee, dinner, long walks through the park. It's probably past due that you ask him what he'd like out of this, but your friends tell you to just have fun for the time being. You've learned a lot about him in the last month or so, both from him directly and by doing your research.

You'd watched a few Grand Prix before meeting him but not with any kind of rapt attention. Now, obviously, you watch with purpose. See him zip around the track, read his radio messages, hope desperately that he'll be alright. He's a big mix of things, George Russell. Witty but determined, thorough but reactionary, polite but intense. You want to keep getting to know him on a personal level and measure that up to how he appears to the world.

Today, you're on one of those long walks. George is recounting the last race at your request. It's always more interesting to hear him talk about what happened than watching it, though you're really growing to love that part, too.

It's a bit chilly and he's got a scarf on in addition to a nondescript hat pulled down low over his eyes. You're used to this by now, though you wish you could see his face more fully.

"And then -- well, I'm sure you saw this bit -- he turned right into me like I wasn't even there!"

"But you avoided it," you remind him. "I saw that, too." A cold wind blows down the path and you shiver a bit.

"You alright?" he asks. "Nippy, huh?" He stops walking and turns to you, his huge hands coming to rest on your shoulders before he rubs them up and down your arms.

"A bit," you agree, a little breathless. God, you really need to talk to him about what this is. You're thinking about him all the time, which is a bit of a nuisance, as you're not sure he's feeling the same. But, a small voice in your head tells you, you can't be too far off in thinking that it might be based on the way he's looking at you right now.

Even under the cap, you can see the soft set of his brow, the way his eyes are shining. The gentle quirk up of his mouth. What would it be like to kiss him? Would he let you?

George stops his warming efforts, catching your hands in his. "Better?"

All you can do is nod. He grins, looking a bit too pleased, and starts walking again, you in tow. This is something else you've learned about him -- he really can be a cheeky bastard. He must have more than some idea as to how he affects you and enjoys it. It's somewhere between a game and a challenge.

You're thinking about ways you can get him back, ways you can flirt mercilessly. His hand is in yours and he's half a step ahead of you when suddenly your fingers are ripped from his and you find yourself on your hands and knees with a gasp.

George is immediately there with you.

"Oh, shit," he says. "Are you alright?"

"I--" You're a bit too stunned to say anything. George rarely curses, which is funny given how you met, but it unsettles you a little bit as much as it warms you. "I think I tripped?"

"Let me see your hands," he says, gently tugging at your wrists with his long fingers. He sucks on his teeth when he sees your palms. "Not too bad, but a little scratched."

You rearrange yourself so you're flat on your bum, legs in front of you. Your hands might be alright but your knees are another story. The fabric of your jeans isn't ripped but you can see the bloodstains already.

"Oh," you say. You look up at George, feeling a bit pathetic. "This is embarrassing."

He scoffs. "No, it's not," he says. "I do think we should get you cleaned up, though."

"We can go to my place," you suggest. The sting sets in a little more, but mingles with your chagrin and you just set your jaw. "Help me up?"

"Brave girl," George says. He presses his lips to the base of your wrist and stands, tugging you up as he goes. "Have you got first aid things at your flat?"

You nod, running through the contents of your bathroom in your mind. It occurs to you that George has not been to your place before, and you did not mentally prepare yourself to bring him there today.

George gently says your name. "Let's get a cab, shall we?"

It takes no time at all to flag one down. George removes his hat in what you can clearly see as an effort to get the cabbie to hurry along a bit, but it seems to work. He takes one look at you, one more at George, and steps on it.

"Let me get your belt," George mutters, making quick work of the buckle.

"I don't think I've ever worn a seatbelt in a cab in my life, George," you reply. He just pats your thigh.

"Think we've had enough injuries for one day, don't you?"

George and the cabbie chat about the race season, about how hot it really is in Singapore, about one of George's recent podiums. He keeps you tucked into his side the whole time -- he's ignored his own seatbelt, you notice -- hand on your thigh. You keep your palms turned up on your knees and wonder how on earth you got here.

The city flies by and you lean your head on his shoulder. You can feel something shifting between you, something clicking into place that wasn't entirely settled before. It's scary, it's exciting, it's big. It's something you're going to have to talk about.

George pays the driver in some large bills and helps you out of the cab and up the steps of your building.

"Where are your keys?" he asks.

"Front right pocket of my jeans."

"Pardon my reach," he jokes, and lightly rests on palm on your hip and slides the other into your pocket to find them. He tugs the keyring out and winks at you before unlocking the door. Up the stairs, into the flat. Shoes toed off, coats on the hook after George helps you out of yours.

"I'm not an invalid, you know," you tell him. He clicks his tongue.

"We don't want blood on this nice coat of yours, do we?"

You roll your eyes. George glances around your flat and smiles. "This is very you."

Dishes on the counter, the pillows a mess on the couch, your books and trinkets on every flat surface -- you suppose he's right.

"Thank you?" you say. He taps your chin with his knuckle.

"It feels like a home, I mean." Your cheeks feel warm and your heart sighs. God, the things he says.

"Oh," you breathe. "That's kind."

"And does this home have a first aid kit?" The reminder brings the dull sting of your scraped skin back to the forefront of your mind.

"Bathroom cabinet," you tell him. George nods.

"I'll get that. Why don't you change into something loose so I can get to your knees?"

In your room, you tug carefully tug on some sweatpants, mindful of your palms, and let yourself marvel at how today has gone. You expected to have George here someday, but certainly not like this. Will he want to see your bedroom? You shove some dirty laundry into the hamper and thank past you for making the bed this morning.

"I think you should sit on the counter," George calls. "Whenever you're ready."

You pad out to meet him in socked feet. It's quite the sight, him in your kitchen. He's bent over your sink, washing his hands. His sweater has been tossed over a chair and you can see the lines of his back under his t-shirt.

"Do you need help getting up?" he asks. You nod. Together, you get yourself on the counter, making you about eye level.

"Hello," you say. His hat is gone, too, so his fringe falls across his forehead in slightly curled strands. When you've cleaned yourself up, maybe you'll work up the courage to run your hand through them.

"Hello yourself. Right hand, please." You hold out your palm and George gets to work. He cleans it, getting all the bits from your skin, and then uses an alcohol wipe.

"Do you have a special interest in first aid, or something?" you ask to distract yourself from the sting. His thumb strokes your pulse point as he works.

"I guess you get beat up a bit in karting when you're young," he says. He wraps one palm in gauze and moves onto the other. "I suppose i just like knowing how to take care of people."

"God," you groan. "Is there anything wrong with you?"

He looks at you then, hair falling into his blue, blue eyes. "Oh," he smirks. "Plenty, darling." He finishes up on your other palm and holds it in his for a moment longer than you expect. Then he slowly brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the bandage.

You might gasp, You're not entirely sure, eyes glued to his lips like nothing else exists. Then he kisses the other palm. Your gaze flicks up and George is looking right at you.

"Knees," he says, voice a little hoarse. "Alright?"

"Alright," you breathe. You stick one leg out just to see what he'll do. You're learning that he rises to the occasion, and that's exactly what happens. He cups your ankle, places your foot on his thigh, and slides your sweatpants up above your joint.

"That's gnarly," he says, breaking the tension. You laugh and tap his leg with your other foot. "You ready?"

"I'm ready."

He makes quick work on it. One hand on your calf, the other gently cleaning and bandaging. The silence is comfortable, familiar, though you've not been in this situation before. It's not until George is almost done with your other knee that he speaks.

"You know," He says, lightly. "If you wanted me to touch you, all you had to do was ask. The tripping wasn't entirely necessary."

"George!" you gasp. He squeezes your calf.

"I'm just saying, darling."

He ties off the gauze and rolls down your pant leg. You widen your knees and he steps between them immediately, hands resting gently on your thighs. It's absolutely electric -- going from shy, appropriate touches to being in your flat together, his hands all over you. How are you going to go back?

Maybe you can't.

George's eyes rake over your face. You inhale his exhales, feeling them on your lips. His pupils dilate.

"What is this, George?" you whisper. His fingers press into your thighs a little harder.

"Well," he says, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What would you like it to be?"

"I don't know," you say, honestly. He is not dissuaded, does not back away. He must know that this is hard for you -- his life is so different from yours. As it is, you avoid social media so you don't see pictures of you splashed across gossip accounts. It's impossible to totally stay away from it but you try, because you really like being with him.

"Shall I tell you what it is for me?" George says.

You nod.

He cups your face in his hands, thumbs stroking the delicate skin under your eyes.

"Every second I am not with you I am thinking about when I'll see you next," he says. "I store up things to tell you and take photos to show you and I have a bag full of things I've bought you but been too afraid to give you. Beautiful things, things that remind me of you."

"George--"

"I worry about fucking up your life," he continues, and you fall silent. "This is a lot. I am a lot. My life is not simple, and you've already seen that. But I want you in it. I want you in it however you want to be there, though I have my suggestions. I promise that if you let me, I'll treat you so well, because you deserve everything, and --"

Your heart is going to explode if he goes on any longer, so you close the gap between you and kiss him. Finally.

It's just the press of your lips against his for a few seconds, your eyes fluttering shut, before George catches up to what's happening and angles your faces a little bit to make it deeper. Your bandaged hands rest on his elbows and you swallow a sound from deep in his throat, something that lights a fire in your belly.

"Blimey," George says, leaning your foreheads together.

"What, no curse for me?"

His eyes sparkle and he wrinkles his nose at you. "Fuck," he says. "I've been thinking about that for weeks."

You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "That's more like it."

BLOODY HELL

What the fuck was that? Is he serious? Keep focused, George. This is fucking ridiculous. Head down.

It's a bad day. Not as bad as it could be -- George does not end up in the wall. But he ends up way further down the pack than he should, barely scraping together a few points. It's the car and everyone knows it. The bouncing, the drag, the understeer. A showing far too poor for this late in the season.

And George is pissed. It's not often that you see him this way -- he's fairly levelheaded, even when things get tough. Something about him causes conflict to lull, things to fall into place, but even that can't fix the silver arrow.

You slip out of the garage during the last lap to sit in his driver's room and wait.

This isn't your first race. Far from it, by now. Things got official halfway through the season after that day in your flat, and you've been coming to as many as you can. It's a rush, really, to see him work. Scarier than anything, but when it's good? It's amazing. You love the energy of the garage and everyone seems to have taken to you, too.

So much so that they know to send George right to his room before the media pen so you can calm him down.

You sit on the bench and wait.

He comes in, closing the door firmly but never slamming it, and sighs. All the tension melts from his body and he looks defeated. Sweaty, annoyed, and defeated.

"Hello," you say, lightly.

He smiles wryly. "Shit day, huh?"

You love how George looks after a race. Hair a mess from his helmet, skin beaded with sweat. He unzips his race suit and lets it hang at his hips and you can see the outline of his muscles through his fireproofs. It's genuinely swoonworthy, even with his visibly bad mood.

"Are you alright?" you ask. He shrugs, rolls his shoulders, and winces.

"Bloody hell," he curses. "My back is killing me."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing," he says automatically. "You're perfect just as you are."

It's a reflex he has -- not to ask for things. You're still working it out, poking and prodding to find the cracks. Maybe, with time, he'll loosen this grip he has on his desire to make your life as comfortable and wonderful as possible without thinking of himself. There are moments when it's best to just let him fuss, but right now you think you can push back a little.

"George," you sigh. "Come on."

He hides his face behind a sweat towel for a breath, then tosses it aside. "Alright," he says. "Just sit with me for a bit."

You scoot over on the bench and he flops next to you, head back against the wall and eyes closed. His hand fumbles around for yours, pinching your thigh when he overshoots, which makes you laugh. He cracks a smile and opens one eye just enough to see your grin before settling back into his rest.

He breathes deeply, fingers entwined with yours. The line of his jaw is pronounced in the awful lighting of the room and the shadows under his eyes look worse than usual. A few more races and then he can rest. What will you do in the off season? Maybe a vacation. Hopefully a vacation. You imagine George in swim trunks on a beach somewhere, dozing in the sand. Rubbing sun tan lotion on his back and his shoulders and his nose, reading books for hours until he convinces you to run into the water. Lazy days on a balcony or in a bed with all the windows open, never being far from each other --

Someone knocks on the door.

"Christ," George mutters. "Let's ignore it."

"You need to go to the pen, darling," you whisper back. He squeezes your hand and presses your legs together.

"Just a few more minutes," he says. "Eventually they'll just come in."

"If you say so."

You press a kiss to his tacky cheek and lean your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

George takes a deep breath. "I love you," he says.

The words stretch into the silence that comes after, the moments it takes for you to process it. They fill the small room, sneak their way into your bloodstream, your lungs, all the way to your heart.

Part of you is waiting for the follow-up. I know it's too early, I know it's a lot, You don't have you say it back. But George doesn't deal in excuses. He feels it, so he says it.

You lift your head to look at him and find him already staring at you. Not expectant, just looking to look.

"I love you, George," you say.

He grins bigger than you've ever seen, bigger than after your first kiss, than the days when he's on the podium.

Someone knocks on the door again.

"Oh, piss off," he mutters and leans in to kiss you.

[aithusarosekiller]

I saw your Jegulus post about them not being the typical teenage romance and can I just give you a double high five in agreement! I then HAD to find one of many moments I've written for them which exemplify this and share it with you. And this one is the one I settled on. Remus' POV, year five for the Marauders, year four for Regulus. Context is, this is the first time Remus has spent time with James and Regulus together after discovering their secret relationship. It's James' birthday and Lily wants James occupied all day so she can prep for his party. Lily also knows about James and Regulus BTW, makes contextual sense in the story (Sirius does not know, doesn't apply to this scene though).

Hope you enjoy. :)

>>><<<

There were people who loved each other, like Remus loved Sirius. He would have handed Sirius his body, heart, and soul. He loved him with every ounce of his being. And yet… There were people who loved each other, and then there was James and Regulus.

Remus could think of no other way to describe it. They weren’t two hearts beating for each other. They were the void between heartbeats. They occupied the infinitesimal moment as an inhale became an exhale. They were two people, who shared a single soul. And being around them was both intoxicating and strange. Remus felt like if he breathed too hard in their direction he’d mess with their air, which was exactly perfect between them as their breaths mingled. For surely two people so melded would only breathe the air of the other. And then they would poke fun at each other and their aura would brighten, literally bringing each into sharper visual focus, before it blurred again as they melted back into each other. 

They didn’t even have to be touching (though they nearly always were) for this phenomenon to take place. And for half the day Remus thought he was merely groggy from the Pamoja wielding. He thought his brain was sending him confused signals as he watched James and Regulus be James and Regulus. 

But a massive lunch, plenty of teenage goofing off, and exploring the surrounding forest left him with a very clear mind and the same mental signals. At which point Remus decided James and Regulus were an exhibition in their own category of relationship, absolutely unique to them. Love was not the word he would use to describe them. It was so much more. They filled the spaces no one else even noticed. And it merged their existence into a single organism. 

It was fucking intense. 

After they parted ways, as James and Remus continued up to the castle together, Remus said tentatively, “hey, so is it always like that?”

“What do you mean?” asked James absently. 

“Er, do you really not know.”

James glanced over at him. “It’s always like that, yeah.”

“Bloody hell.” Remus couldn’t get a good read on James’ face for they were walking side by side, but he thought James might be smiling. “I knew he had to be something special and way more substantial than he looks to withstand your affection, but Godric James. I don’t even know what to call that. I’m not sure it’s physically sustainable.”

“He’s my star.”

“Mate, he’s your fucking universe.”

James playfully threw out an elbow and definitely didn’t look at Remus. 

“What can I say, we are infinite. Don’t look so scandalized, you and Sirius aren’t so different.”

“No, we are very different. We exist in the physical world James. You two are already way out there in your own orbit.”

“See why I can’t lose him.”

They took several paces before Remus spoke.

“James, I’m scared for you. That kind of connection has to be dangerous.”

“Want to stop and have a smoke?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth mate.”

<3

JUST REMEMBERED I HAD THIS IN MY INBOX FOR AGES I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS

But honestly it's one of my favourite things about them, the poetic quality makes it feel like they're finding each other again just when they need it at the same time as we're finding them when WE need it, you know?

That's so real though, the idea of the two of them being able to almost spiritually feed off of each other's presence is so true. Like existence is centred around them for a moment. They take over everything.

And it's probably bad in the long run but it's so beautiful that the pain is okay. Because without all of the painful bits, were the good parts really all that valuable?

Also I love your style, it feels real and almost factual if that makes sense? Even when you're describing metaphysical aspects the certainty gives a strong feeling of truth and rationality. I like it.

[lailols]

I hope I'm not bothering you and you don't have to write this if it makes you feel better you can but I'm curious. All txt members are dom overstimulation orgasm denial and in addition to that, I wonder what the members who ate special chocolate would be like. I really trust you, I'm sorry, my English is not very good, I hope I can be understood.

Okay, we'll (I'll) answer this in two parts!

MDNI! Very hastily written, don’t kill me

MTL (ish) overstim v denial

Overstim

Yeonjun

Soobin

Kai

Taehyun

Beomgyu

Denial

Yeonjun does it both as a punishment and just on the daily. He’s all about making sure you’re thoroughly satisfied by the end of the night, and with his stamina, you surely will be. Whether it’s from his fingers, mouth, thigh, or cock, you’re being sent to heaven every single time. If you’re not blacking out from pleasure, he’s not doing his job right. If he’s just doing it for funsies, he’s praising you all the while telling you ‘just one more’ and ‘you’re such a good girl for taking it.’ If it’s a punishment he’s saying ‘if it hurts, why is your body still pulling me in, hm?’ and ‘if you act like a slut, you’re going to get treated like one’

Soobin truly doesn’t mean to, but he just gets so captured in how good you feel and loses himself in the moment. It’s only natural that before he even thinks about getting inside you he’s prepping you and then eating you out. Like that’s not even a question. So that’s two there. And then once he’s inside you, he’s not thinking anymore, literally you’re synonymous with a fleshlight at that point. Tears streaming down your face because he’s come twice and he’s still going. And then afterwards the little pervert is going down on you again because the sight of his come dripping out of you is too tempting.

Kai is a bit of a wild card. Heavily inspired by kpg! Kai (you should read that if you haven’t wink wink) but he just gets such a power trip from the way you completely trust him with your body. If he decides to overstim you? You’re taking it with trembling thighs and tears in your eyes. If he decides you don’t deserve to come? You’re crying and begging but taking all that he’s willing to give you while holding off your impending orgasm. He doesn’t really have tells for either mood and while he’s not above punishment, that’s not really his motivator either. It really just depends on what he’s feeling like in the moment.

Taehyun will only deny you as a punishment. He’s a simple man that thinks good girls should come and stupid sluts should not. That’s not to say that he doesn’t purposefully make rules so that you break them, but you’d think that after all this time you’d know better, right? It’s not his fault you’re breaking rules, he just has to enforce them. You know your safe word and if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t have broken the rule in the first place. Your tears will not sway him but if you cry enough he might come back later to let you come. Maybe. And while he does go a few rounds, it’s with breaks in between and not all at once so I don’t think it counts as overstim?

Beomgyu is just so mean :(. He likes keeping you wound up and frustrated. He likes having you beg and plead for him to let you come and then deciding not to anyways. It’s like a game to him. Will he? Won’t he? Hell, half the time he doesn’t know himself. It’s a bit of a power trip for him. You could be a brat or even just the perfect princes, and he still won’t let you come. But he’s not a complete monster, if you don’t deserve to come from his dick, he’ll let you get yourself off on a pillow if you’re so desperate.

[valiant-sun]

re:vale week

day 3 - royal AU (read from right to left!)

[tempestmothstorm]

Ough these are all so good may I suggest some more ideas because this post has invaded my thoughts for over a week

Act 1 is gonna be mostly normal, but there’s a few hand written pen notes in the margins making sly remarked about the cheesy writing. I think Monika’s effects can range from directly editing and redacting text to writing with pen when she wants to speak directly with you. For the experience of some rando picking up the book at a library, it might seem like the last owner just vandalized the book to write random editors notes, only for it’s comments to slowly become weirder until it’s revealed that it was write by one of the characters in an attempt to speak directly to you.

This only exists as random quips up until the final part with Sayori where it doesn’t really describe the scene but instead just had mc’s thoughts like a stream of consciousness, up until he starts repeating the word never, where it repeats into the next few pages with a single line made up with that singular word, repeating over and over until is turns into the silhouette of a hanging corpse. Only then does the reader know what happened

Never

Never

Never

Never

Never

Never

And after a few blank pages, the hand writing of the previous owner appears, almost acting as if this was a silly accident.

“Geez, this draft went pretty badly! I don’t even know is where else to take this! Maybe I should just start over?”

After skipping through a ripped page, the story seemingly starts over as if nothing ever happened

This is where act 2 starts, at page 1 again under the ruse of a different draft, making the book seem like an incomplete project you weren’t meant to see. It’s starts the same as the first page, but now it’s got all that house of leaves spooks in there. Some examples or ideas include

When introducing the club, it reads something like this. Similar to house being written slightly different in house of leaves, so will Monika every time her name shows up

And ████, Yuri, Natsuki, and Monika all seem nice enough anyways.

Altered text can be in different fonts similar to the one with Monika’s name

or it could be overlayed onto of the original text, effectively making it unreadable as if Monika tried and failed to replace it

It could also look to be manually scribbled out with pen

Or it could have a whole text box covering a paragraph halfway through it, making pretty clear that the following words aren’t supposed to be there

Also more ripped pages. I think if this existed in real life the book would instantly become way more expensive lol

Maybe some of the secret poems can be in the text boxes, randomly being inserted midway through a page and interrupting whatever else was going on

I think when Yuri starts talking about the portrait of markov it’ll show an excerpt in the first act, but by the second act it becomes the blackout ‘nothing is real’ secret poem

Actually more blackout poems in general as Monika tries to censor more words. Blackout poems are cool

In more of the moments where Monika talks directly to the player like in the big argument scene or one of Yuri’s monologues where she slowly fades in, her dialogue will be written in pen instead of any typeface

Those text files like iiiiiii.txt and stuff also show up as tiny pen notes overlapping the actual text, writing over the scene but faint enough that you could probably ignore it

Those scenes where the game forgets it ever happens (like the play with me and water fountain scene) could have a paragraph get cut off by the page limit with the next page being ripped out and the next not following where the paragraph left off at all

Yuri’s death scene plays out like a normal scene where the narrator doesn’t acknowledge how insane everything Yuri says even is, until it gets to the part where she stabs herself where the text is suddenly cut off by a garbled mess of meaningless words, messed up fonts, redacted text, and several ink splatters. This goes on for several pages until Natsuki shows up for a quick paragraph before leaving, allowing Monika to enter

Yuri pulls out a knife and sta████████

I honestly don’t know how the whole deleting thing works in a book. Logictics wise the story requires a few stretches to make a book, but it could work out. I think in the story, text is the only way the characters can interact with the real world, with Monika being able to edit it herself (this implies she can’t operate a writing program the same way she can’t code. L) I guess instead of the the command panel announcing everyone’s character files being deleted, she’ll just type out that everyone died, with her writing taking over the narrator making the edits a reality.

After a few ripped pages the next empty page has nothing but Monika’s handwritten pen, stating that she’s been the one to write all those notes and that now that she can talk to you directly she’s finally not alone. What follows is a bunch of her act 3 talks, writes mostly in pen with a few things like her poem and hidden text files write in the regular typeface when making edits to the book.

I have no idea how to end this, especially since deleting character files doesn’t translate as well into a book. But yeah act 4 plays out as it does in game before, with Sayori suddenly being able to edit the book and also write with the pen too, just with different handwriting to Monika.

Monika ends up scribbling over the rest of the pages before leaving a few ripped out. The final paragraphs are on the inside of the book cover way after the copyright page where she says her final goodbyes and writes the lyrics to your reality

Ok that’s it this idea is cool

I wonder what DDLC would be like novelised. How they would transition from the cutesty façade into the horror. I could imagine the formatting of the book glitching like the game does, maybe some pages have the wrong page number, the font, color and size of the text changing, seemingly blank pages that have very faint text on them that you can only see if you look super closely, codes hidden in paragraphs, how Monika trying to break out of the story into reality would be portrayed, etc

[magicomens]

I love how all the speech bubbles are personalised for everyone! Its a great comic, and the recent panel with the dragon Arthur and merlin all like :| was so funny

Those panels are my fav to draw apart from the big swooshy dramatic bust shots hehe

Tbh if there's one thing I'd change if I could go back it's the speech bubbles 😭 I'd find a way to have all the different styles as pre-made tools instead of drawing them by hand (excluding Merlin's) but alas it's too late for that now lol

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I wouldn't really agree that boys are just arm candy in magical girl shows and only there to look cute. Yeah, sure the girls' friendships are the focus, but the boys are usually very much involved in the plot and most shows do explore their feelings about the odd things that happen due to magical shenanigans even if they aren't in the know (It's why ML baffles me even more with how they screwed up Adren's arc when he's the deuteragonist, when all these boys are supporting cast and get well rounded arcs)

I'm not much of a winx fan, but the specialists were very much not arm candy. Did the girls talk about them being cute? Yes, it's what teenage girls do. Did the narrative suggest they were good looking? Yes, but that's standard for most love interests in any genre. But we still got scenes with them talking amongst themselves about how they themselves feel and they got a fair share of badass fight scenes even if they wield no magic. A large amount of episodes actually included the boys and girls working as a team solving a mystery or fighting a villain. The girls might deal the finishing blow but the boys were still integral to the plot.

I hope this doesn't come across as hate, it definitely wasn't my intention. I'm just a bit too passionate about the magical girl genre.

I do think you have a good point with ML having a problem choosing a genre or blending two genres successfully.

For the CCS fans, I will add though that Cardcaptor Sakura had both Tomoyo and Syaoran serve as sources of motivation for Sakura. And both Sakura and Syaoran collecting cards even if Sakura is the only one who could seal them and yet never made you question whether Syaoran was even necessary for the job the way ml does with Chat.

I wasn't trying to say that boys have no part to play in magical girl team shows or that they're always treated as having no lives beyond the girls, that's why I mentioned that the Winx Club boys - aka, the Specialists - have their own (mostly off screen) lives and occasionally show up help the girls:

the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship

Even then, this is certainly a simplification of the roles that they play in the story, but I kind of had to simplify their roles down to their base components for the original post's discussion as I was talking in broad strokes of how these stories are written.

In terms of those broad strokes, the Specialists are absolutely only there for shipping fodder. That's why each one is assigned to a girl from the start and why their main role in the narrative is supporting their assigned love interest or causing relationship-based drama for their assigned love interest. If it weren't for shipping, then the Specialists would not exist.

While the Specialists do have fleshed out characters and may even effect the plot, the execution of those elements is designed around the girls. A really obvious example of this is the character Timmy, who has character development as the boy's tech guy. Why is he into technology? Because he's the designated love interest for the fairy of Technology and we have to show why they're a good match. Along similar lines, the boys don't really get plots that are removed from the girls because this is the girl's show. Every episode features one or more of the Winx, but the boys are optional and often don't appear.

This is because, narratively speaking, the boys are just love interests and that brings us back to Miraculous' big problem. You can't have a show where Adrien is written like a Specialist while also being part of the Winx Club and where Alya is written like she's part of the Winx Club while technically being more of a Specialist in terms of power set and actual narrative role.

I'm was thinking back to my memories of various Winx Club plots to find one that really highlighted what I mean here and I remembered that one of the big dramas in season one was the reveal that Bloom's love interest - Sky - was in an arranged marriage and had just never told her. As it turns out, that's a great example of what I'm talking about re Adrien!

Is that plot line technically based around Sky and letting his life effect the plot? Sure, but the fallout of that reveal revolves around Bloom, not Sky. The story doesn't really care how Sky's feeling as the conflict progresses. Instead, it focuses on how it affects Bloom and her friends because of course it does! She's the main character. It would be really weird if that plot suddenly focused on her side character love interest and his friends during one of her darkest hours/biggest moments.

Think of that and then consider how the ending of season five is written. Notice any similarities? Sure, this is Adrien's family drama, but because he's just a Specialist, the focus isn't on him. It's on Winx Club member Marinette and Adrien only shows up at the end for a kiss. That is the problem. That is what I'm talking about when I say that Miraculous will randomly write him as if we're watching a magical girl team show where Adrien is just the love interest.

In fact, let's really dig into this example because it's a good one.

You can have a look at the transcript for the finale episode of Miraculous season five here and see for yourself that Adrien doesn't even show up on screen until the final scenes when the big drama is over. The Winx Club wiki also has episode transcripts, so I took a look to see what happened in Winx land during the arranged marriage reveal plot (I love that this is a thing. It's so useful for fact checking myself!) This is the script for the episode after Bloom learns the truth. Sky does not appear even though his lies and family drama are the fuel for this episode's events, which are a major part of the season's arc. Note how perfectly that matches Adrien's writing?

Similarly, Sky's dialogue in the reveal episode is all about Bloom. He's worried about her learning the truth and thinking less of him. To match that, here's Adrien's only real dialogue in the penultimate episode of season five (full transcript):

Adrien:(Covers his ears.) I cannot transform... (Looks at his ring and tries taking it off.) Plagg: What are you doing?! Adrien: I'm not in my right mind. I'm too angry — at myself for falling short of Marinette's love, at my father for sending me here in London, at this stupid app and these rings that use my image... it makes me sick! This nightmare is giving me the horrible feeling that, if I transform, I'll get akumatized and destroy everything with my Cataclysm — Marinette, Ladybug... (Takes off the ring and hands it to Plagg.)

Switching back to Winx. After Bloom learns the truth about Sky, bad things happen because she's depressed. This results in her and the Winx going off on a journey to learn the truth of who Bloom is. After the girls share this big plot moment and Bloom gets her mojo back, the boys show up to be their ride home and to give Bloom her romance moment where Sky wins her back by declaring that he broke off the arranged married because he loves her.

Sky notably doesn't get an arc about choosing between his arranged marriage and his true love. We don't even know that the marriage is broken off until he tells Bloom because that was never really a conflict as far as the narrative was concerned. Of course he's going to pick Bloom! He's her designated side character love interest! He only exists to be with her. We don't need to treat this as a serious thing for him. The arranged marriage plot was never about him anyway. It was about giving Bloom a reason to have a darkest hour moment that moves the plot forward. Similarly, Sky calling off the marriage is nowhere near as important as him telling Bloom that he's called off the marriage to be with her in a grand romantic gesture.

This perfectly mirrors Miraculous' season five ending where Adrien doesn't appear until after Marinette is done fighting her big girl power fight against his father. As far as the writing is concerned, that fight isn't about him. His connection to the villain only really matters in terms of how it affects Marinette's actions during the final battle. Then, when the battle is over, Adrien shows up to give Marinette her big romance moment because, while the plot may be driven by Adrien's family, he is not a Winx club member. He's just a Specialist. Or, in the words of the head writer:

[image text: She's Barbie, he's Ken. You don't like it. I get it. It won't change. Anything else?] (The full, even more damning context of this tweet can be found here.)

What else can I say other than, "I rest my case."

Oh, and also that I didn't take this as an attack. I just thought it was a good opportunity to really dig into the nuances of this and what I was talking about in that original post as I never know how obvious this stuff is if you don't closely study story telling. As this case study hopefully shows, if a show is about a group of girl friends using the power of friendship, then their love interests may have important roles, but the boys are never going to be more important than the girls and most of the boy's screen time will be focused on romance and how their existence effects the girls because it's ultimately the girls' world. Without them, the show wouldn't exist. Without the boys? Well, then we just wouldn't have a romance plot.

[quillkiller]

humbly asking for yalls favorite lesbian/wlw fanfics… <3

[eclairfair98]

“Oh, but you see, Kazansky,” the boy looks down at him and smiles. Engulfed by the honey-gold haze of a sharp summer sun, the sweetest, most reckless thing he’s ever seen. “I am dangerous!”

And there’s something about that smile, guilelessly fluttering across his flushed face like a hummingbird taking flight, that digs into Tom’s chest like the gentlest of knives. Cleaves its way between his ribs.

Fills his heart with light.

It’s strange, how quickly it all happens. How startlingly unremarkable it really is. How Tom takes a deep breath, lets the faint wisps of warm vanilla sugar trickle down his too-dry throat, closes his eyes, and just knows: he might’ve entered this quaint house in the middle of nowhere with a firm plan in mind to destroy any chances his father had of securing a betrothal (even if that meant stooping low-enough to make a thirteen-year-old cry) but hurting Pete Mitchell in any shape or form, wouldn’t sit right with his conscience.

Knows that there’s no reason why Mrs Mitchell should be so intent on finding her son a match at such short notice, especially when he’s so young. (Especially when she doesn’t seem like one of those parents that unfortunately, aren’t all that uncommon in the Navy: who think their omega children have little value beyond the connections they can help forge via bonding and marriage.)

Recognizes dire straits when they’re staring him in the face: the thinly-veiled distress in Mrs Mitchell’s dull green eyes; the worn dress shirt that’s almost two sizes too big for Pete — that he was probably supposed to grow into several months ago, but never did; the stale scent of grief and pain that clings to even the most carefully-polished surface of their home.

Finds himself thinking that maybe, it isn’t all that strange. Maybe, he could spend the rest of his life with this boy. Finding out what makes him smile. What makes him laugh. What is his favorite dream to dream.

In the end, it all comes down to this: Sometimes, you meet a person and it feels like you’ve known them your entire life. A quiet sense of belonging settles in your bones, and you realize you’d do anything to keep them happy and secure.

[shhroomer]

Dude! Please I gotta hear more about your little lady 🤲

☆ Is there someone your OC didn’t like at first, but then got along with later?

☆ Who would your OC say is their best friend?

Dude !!! Always happy to see you in my inbox 🫶 ahh thank you sm for the enthusiasm!!

oh man these are some hard questions!! im still trying to figure out the characterization for some of them, so the dynamics might be subject to change. Regardless, oh boy you might have to brace yourself for this one, I fear it's going to be long......... (i havent written it yet but im going to preemptively cut just in case)

☆ Is there someone your OC didn’t like at first, but then got along with later?

that someone is Craig!! He wouldn't like Hanh at first because she's often involved with the M4's shenanigans, and assumed she was either a. a wimpy pushover because of her shy nature or b. just as bad as them lmao. On the other end, Hanh thought that Craig was nothing but a troublemaker with how often he got sent to the Principal's office and assumed he was a meanie with how often he'd clash with her friends. She'd misinterpret his direct and pragmatic comments as being malicious, and while she does agree with a lot of his points, she thinks that his words could use more tact.

However, over time they'd both realize that they had misconceptions about each other: Hanh would come to realize that Craig's reasons for being sent to the principal's office is usually never on purpose or for malicious reasons, and that he never actively looked for trouble. That, and that most of the time, his criticisms towards her friends were completely justified LMAOO. Meanwhile, Craig would find out that Hanh's not as much of a pushover as he thought she was, and that she reprimands the M4 just as much as he does.

which, segues nicely into:

☆ Who would your OC say is their best friend?

also Craig!!!

After they get over that little hurdle, they come to learn a lot from each other! I imagine that Hanh would often give Craig advice on how to talk to Tweek, esp when it comes to the more emotional situations where Craig's more prone to problem solve, and over time he'd learn how to be gentler and kinder in general! On the flipside, Craig would teach Hanh how to be more confident in herself by getting her to be more direct. Craig's honesty is also something Hanh will always appreciate, because it's something she can always rely on without second guessing herself or look for any double meanings. She can always reliably trust that his monotone and deadpan ass will always tell her the truth.

I imagine Craig would ask Hanh what she sees in Stan's gang, only for her to reply with "they make me laugh."

I kind of headcanon that Craig to be this super tall, stoic, kind of intimidating (mostly thanks to his height) kinda guy that people are kinda scared of and avoid. In reality, he's just as much of a loser as any other guy. And with Hanh being short af (standing at a whopping 153cm/5 foot), I think it's a pretty funny visual contrast lol, especially with their very differing personalities (imagine that one picture of the guy going "someone will die" and the other person going "of fun!" thats them)

I also love the headcanon of Craig having braces, so I wanted both of them to share the pain of wearing braces together!! I imagine Hanh being self conscious of having to come to school with braces. She'd probably get a bit of teasing, but then lo and behold: Craig Tucker with braces, to which no one has the balls to say anything about it because he can and would fuck you up (i mean he boxed tweek after all!!). So, by proxy, no one made fun of Hanh for her braces either! Anyways they bond over shared pain and the wires tightening their teeth <3

oh and he also taught her how to flip people off and swear at people lol. the guys made a bet to see who could get Hanh to swear (bonus points if she flipped someone off) and he was the one who ended up winning 30$ that day.

Now, this is where I predict it's going to be long because Craig's not her only best friend: there's also Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Wendy!!

For Kyle,

They both respect each other a lot! Him and Hanh both have very strong moral compasses, and often times they'll find themselves on the same side and agreeing with each other on a lot of things, seeing as they're both very compassionate and caring people.

Although she's usually non-confrontational, whenever it involves Hanh's friends getting hurt unjustifiably, it's like there's a switch that gets flipped. She'll turn a complete 180 and make sure whatever needs to be done gets done (even if it means getting into a fight), which is something Kyle really appreciates about her. Especially if it's moments where she'll defend Kyle from Cartman's comments that go too far. If there was to be anyone he'd have a lot of respect for and find to be on equal footing with (other than maybe Stan and Wendy), it would be Hanh.

Similarly to Craig, I imagine that Kyle would try his best to help build Hanh's assertiveness and support her in her studies, and Hanh would in turn help keep Kyle's cool and give him advice on how to manage his emotions. They've both got each others' backs, essentially.

Whenever Hanh falls asleep in class due to staying up late, Kyle will often take notes for her

I think she'd also help Kyle be a little less uptight at times. Granted, she's guilty of this too and is often very prone to overthinking/freaking out, where just one thing going wrong in her schedule could derail her whole day. Despite this, she also has a very silly, goofy and happy-go-lucky side to her, so whenever that comes out it helps him loosen up a bit haha

They're also both the most studious out of Stan's gang, so they often do study sessions together. There's definitely a very small rivalry between them (which is completely one-sided on Kyle's side, btw. I imagine that he's at least the littlest bit competitive over grades, but Hanh does not give a fuck lmao). Sheila loves it when she comes over. Most of the moms, actually. They think Hanh's the right influence the boys need to balance out their stupidity lol

Speaking of stupidity, they're the most likely to take the responsibility of making sure their group doesn't get hurt/into trouble. Sometimes, it's just Kyle (though those moments are rare). And smetimes, it's just Hanh who takes on the role of the girl who's surrounded by a bunch of idiotic, immature guys, lol. Even Kyle can sometimes be susceptible to "boys will be boys," guys.

She also adores Ike! Hanh loves reading bedtime stories to him and playing Minecraft with both brothers! So that's bonus points in Kyle's book. Hilariously, I think it would be the funniest thing if Kyle was just terrible at Minecraft, so both Hanh and Ike would just dunk on him for being bad at the game HAHAHA

theyre both level 106 in hay day

I think Hanh would also really trust Kyle's judgement. He's not the smartest kid in class for nothing, after all. I'm imagining moments where if she's ever skeptical on joining on one of the M4's escapades, usually all she needs is Kyle's approval before begrudgingly sighing and tagging along HAHA

He's also much bossier than she is, so she's ok with just passively and silently following orders from him (from the others too, but Kyle's especially because of what I said above). Though, the same goes for Kyle as well: He trusts Hanh just as much as she trusts him, even if he doesn't actively show it.

They're both incredible yappers, Kyle moreso than her. Though, she doesn't mind taking on the listener role that much.

Both of them would also relate to kind of being the "outcasts" in the sense that they're always missing out on the thing that's mainstream (see: Kyle always being late to the Chinpokomon trend and him going against the metrosexual trend, etc.). I think it'd be the funniest thing too if both of them didn't know how to dap people LMAOOOO so they just spend a whole evening practicing how to dap each other up, only to realize that they can't even get a good dap up because both of their hands have hand sizes that are too different from one another.

I also think it would be super cute if they bonded over their "weird" lunchbox foods (on days where they don't buy from the cafeteria). Totally not me projecting my second generation immigrant experiences.

oh and he's the type to hug her right after a basketball practice: sweat and all. very gross, as intended.

As for Stan,

they'd bond over hating their dads, lol

Because both Stan and Hanh are very emotional people, they have a very close bond, often feeling like they're the only ones who can understand each other. They'd both be able to vent to each other about school, their issues, their depression, etc.

They also both get to see each other in their cringiest phases: for Stan, it was his goth phase, and for Hanh it was her weeb phase LMAOOO (they both tease each other about it constantly since they've both seen each other at their lowests and they know they're both losers anyway)

Speaking of goth phase, Hanh helps him paint his nails black!! he reluctantly asked for her advice because she has a lot of experience painting nails (thanks to her mom working at a nail salon), and she decided she needed to take it upon herself to teach him how to apply it the nail polish cleanly LMAO

They're both also very creative!! Hanh will often go over to Stan's house where they just hang out in each other's presence, where Stan's working on a new song and Hanh's just doodling something. Sometimes she'll use Stan as pose reference.

Stan would teach Hanh how to play some of his favorite board games (albeit with a lot of struggle), and she'd give him tips on how to better paint his Warhammer figurines.

both of them are also hoarders, lol

I also headcanon Stan as being pretty chronically online, so doomscrolling, on discord, the whole package. On late nights when Hanh's writing an essay that's due the next day, she'll often text/call him on discord because she knows he'd be awake super late.

THE BIGGEST CRIMSON DAWN FAN!!! absolutely gives her 100% when it comes to supporting his artistic endeavours, and also thinks his music and the concept of being in a band is just the coolest thing in the world.

Always sending each other new songs that they like, even if they both have vastly different tastes haha

Her and Kyle often have studying sessions along with Stan (and sometimes Kenny if he decides to tag along) where they both struggle to teach these two lol

Stan's more of a listener than a yapper, but they both have long back and forths. He prefers to be the listener more often though.

And then Kenny, oh sweet Kenny.

Hanh always tries to include Kenny in the conversation, because she notices how often he gets left out and she knows what it's like to feel left out!! it sucks!! It's something he always appreciates a lot about her

And despite being a huge yapper, Hanh always makes sure to get Kenny's input and encourages him to talk more! Especially when it comes to his own issues, because she notices that he often keeps his problems to himself and internalizes all of it, and she wants him to know that she can someone he can lean on.

He also makes her laugh the hardest. And she hates that she laughs at everything he says because sometimes it's the stupidest shit ever LOLL especially if it's stupid perverted jokes

Loves loves loves Karen. Absolutely adores her presence and often encourages Kenny to let her tag along so they can hang out!

Hanh's also a huge gift-giver, and she'll often bake stuff for her friends, but she always gives Kenny more to take home!

Always her treat when they go out to eat! Especially when it's Kenny, it's not something she wants to make a big deal out of. It's never out of pity, and it's always just because she loves sharing food with her friends! Sometimes she'll even pack extra in her lunch to share with him.

Calls Kenny "Princess" even outside of the Stick Of Truth larping game they play, because it's cute!!

Both Kenny and Hanh are very selfless and kind people, and it's something they appreciate about the other.

And then finally there's my girl, Wendy!!

Something something, girls with black hair who can fuck up cartman gotta stick together.

I don't think Wendy and Hanh would be as close as the other boys, but there's definitely a strong bond between the two, for a lot of the same reasons as Kyle.

Wendy's a girls' girl!! So of course it's only natural. Lots of bonding over feminism and the likes. Y'know, just girl things <3

Wendy would be the one to teach Hanh how to do stuff like makeup along with Bebe.

Ahhh I need to think more about their dynamic, especially she's my favorite girl in the show!! Even if they don't always have the same interests, one thing's for sure: they've always got each others' backs!!

This is also just a general thing that Hanh does, but she loves being physically affectionate with her friends!! So expect a lot of handholding and hugs for everyone! (which ends up leading to a lot of funny mutual pining shenanigans lmao)

[ao3screenshotss]

One of the longest fanfics on AO3 is an F1 fanfic! It's got more words than the Bible and it's still going. I read and write F1 fic and a lot of the characterisation is based on interviews, but there are also press conferences, team videos, the drivers own social media, podium celebrations, and of course whatever happens during a race. There's also loads of twinks on the grid, which goes a long way too

i saw the word twinks and suddenly it all made sense