#I have these ideas that never follow through and these very frustrating as a writer

[dulcewrites]

Hellooo

One question, you had written a cannibalism fanfic right? I just can't find it anymore. If you did write it, will you do a second part?

I loved the fic, and I have not found another like it <3

(Sorry if it's written in a bad way, I'm using a translator)

Hi, your English is fine. I did delete it off ao3. I also deleted my other Aegon fic off there months ago too. Something about seeing them on there made me sad about how bad I am at keeping up with my Aegon centric stuff ☹️. I was tempted to delete them off every platform. I planned on doing a part two of acquired taste, but I put a lot of my focus on fcc, as well as another fic I started. As previous stated, idk why it is so hard for me to continue by Aegon stuff.

I still hope to pick up acquired taste and osftsb again one day

But both are still here on tumblr. Acquired taste is right here and one step foward, two steps back can be found on here too.

[mortallydeepestobservation]

Perfect plan -1-

Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits? (But the benefit is a baby); crack, a smidge of angst, smut, fluff, happy ending. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings:  mentions of cheating and ‘being the other woman’ (past relationship), reader works at a hospital, Namjoon is just an absolute sweetheart in this, cursing, multiple sex scenes, dirty talking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, just a smidge of size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, intensive orgasms, Namjoon tells you to “Relax, woman” before eating you out, lovemaking, and a quick scene of pregananat sex. Word count: somewhere around 15k. Author's note: You know there is this idea travelling around that writers write what they need to hear? Apparently, I need Namjoon to tell me it’s okay if I don’t have it all figured out. Thank you @callmenoona25 for all your help once again. You’re the sweetest! ✨ ps. English not first language. Brain dumb sometimes. If you’re still reading this, leave a comment, drop a like, they’re literally the joy of my existence. part 2: here

Confetti was not just decoration; it was a phenomenon. It had a very special way of never truly being vacuumed up. No matter how many times you tried, the colorful bits- pink, blue and gold- always seem to wiggle away and hide comfortably into the far corners of the room as if they had a mind of their own. They would stay there, nestled in the shadows, only to flutter up again whenever you tried to sweep them away.

After the third failed attempt, you let out a frustrated sigh and abandoned the vacuum cleaner. You’d leave that task for the sober version of you tomorrow.

Instead, you started gathering the scattered napkins from the dining table, folding them mindlessly. Your gaze wandered to the half-burned candles that still sat on the table, the melted wax serving as a quiet witness to your little gathering.

29.

“Happy Birthday!” – those words never felt heavier, laden with unfulfilled dreams and the weight of another year gone by without much to show for it. Even the celebration, once full of light and laugher, had left behind just another mess to clean up. The year was over and you were left with the quiet aftermath.

You had always imagined this age differently, or at least, that’s what you told yourself every year. By now, you thought you’d have things figured out. You thought there’d be someone by your side, someone to share the joy of the life you had built.

Little baby prints all over the house. Raising a child, teaching them how to blow out birthday candles and clean up the mess afterwards.

You had always imagined being a mother by now. Maybe that’s what hurt the most- how the years seemed to slip by without any sign of the family you’ve dreamed of. The house full of laughter, a partner to help you navigate the messes and milestones.

But instead, you found yourself alone. Alone in a big beautiful house, holding a top position as an administrator at a private hospital. But alone.

You threw away the last of the napkins and pushed your way through the clutter on the dining table, your mind still heavy with the weight of the thought that had followed your around since the last of the guests had left. The candles sat atop the garbage pile when you walked towards the kitchen.

The house felt quieter now, almost too quiet, as if it was holding its breath since the celebration had ended.

When you entered the kitchen, the hum of the dishwasher broke the silence. You hadn’t expected to find anyone still here, but here he was- Namjoon, your friend, still loading dishes with the same quiet focus he’d had all evening.

You two met back in your last year at college, when you were both striving to become more than just another student. You butted heads a few times, competing for the opening position of Teacher Assistant, only for the teacher to completely compromise the project by offering the job to his very own son.

Either way, you walked away with a new friend. (The enemy of my enemy?)  You were drawn to his passion, his drive, and his unwavering belief in himself. Turned out the two of you also made a hell of a team when it came to it, because you managed to get the job done, despite the professor’s questionable decisions. You’d stayed late countless nights in the library, hashing out ideas, studying together, even venting your frustration in between textbooks. Namjoon had the uncanny ability to make even the most tedious projects feel worthwhile, and you couldn’t help but admire the way he could turn anything into an opportunity for growth. It was contagious, his unwavering belief that everything- every setback, every challenge, was just another chance to prove yourself.

You’d both laughed about it afterwards, the way the professor’s son had been handed the job without so much as a second though, while you and Namjoon had essentially worked the entire course in the shadows. But it didn’t matter in the end. What you had created, together, was far more valuable than the title ever could’ve given you.

The sound of glassware clinking together was oddly soothing, and for a moment you just watched him.

He was dressed in a casual cream turtleneck that beautifully highlighted his broad chest, paired with olive-green slacks. The golden framed glasses perched on his nose adding a little touch of elegance, perfectly tying the outfit together. He seemed relaxed, at large within the confines of your apartment.

“Still here?”

Namjoon glanced over his shoulder, flashing you a tired but warm smile, “You thought I’d leave you to clean all this on your own?”

You lean slightly against the counter, suddenly feeling restricted by the tight dress you wore, watching him work. It was such a kind gesture, but something about it made you feel even more isolated.

“I could’ve handled it,”

“I know you could,” he said, turning back to the sink, “But I wanted to help.”

There was something about him that made you feel seen, even in moments like these, when you didn’t want to be. Almost like he wasn’t just cleaning up your party mess; he was cleaning your life in some way too. The laughter had faded hours ago, and now it was just the two of you- no more distractions, no more Taehyung and Jungkook cracking jokes, no more celebrating. Just the quiet hum of the dishwasher and the soft clink of plates.  Just still life.

You sigh and pull out a chair to sit down at the small breakfast nook “I just feel like… I’m stuck, you know?”

The sparkling champagne made you tongue loose. Feeling vulnerable and raw, you quietly searched his eyes. “Like, I thought by now I’d have it all figured out- where I’m supposed to be, what I’m supposed to be doing. I just thought I’d have more… more something.”

Namjoon set the plate down with a soft clink and turned towards you, his gaze steady but gentle. He wiped his hands on a dish towel, and for the first time that evening, he let the silence hang between you, as if giving you space to let the words settle before responding.

“You know,” he began, his voice low, “I think everyone feels that way sometimes. That sense of… not being where you thought you’d be. But I also think you’re more than what you’re giving yourself credit for.” He paused, then leaned against the counter, meeting your eyes in that way he always did- like he was truly seeing you, not just the person in front of him, but the one beneath the surface.

You shrugged, a half-smile pulling at the corners of your lips, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “I just-” You sighed. “I need to stop drinking.”

Namjoon studied you for a moment, his eyes softening as if weighing your words. He didn’t rush to fill the silence with advice or reassurances. Instead, he simply watched, letting the moment hang in the air, even as it thickened with unspoken words.

Finally, after a small eternity, he spoke.

“It’s okay not to have it all figured out.” He paused for a moment “Life isn’t a straight line. I know you like to plan every little detail of it, but sometimes, it’s just not how it works out. You can’t just arrive somewhere and expect it to be perfect.”

You wanted to laugh, to dismiss his words as is you didn’t know already. But something in the way he said it made it feel real. Like he wasn’t just offering empty comfort, but speaking form a place of understanding.

“And maybe you’re not where you thought you’d be. But that doesn’t mean you’re lost.” Namjoon set the tea towel down with quiet precision, then met your gaze once more, his smile faint but steady. “I think... maybe we’re all just figuring it out as we go. Some of us more than others.”

 You wanted to say something, wanted to argue, but the weight of his words settled over you, a gentle blanket you didn’t know you needed.

“C’mon, you’re tired. Let’s get you to bed.” The softness of his tone caught you off guard, tugging at something inside of you. His words didn’t come with expectations, didn’t demand anything from you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, you simply nodded, feeling a heaviness settle over you that was both familiar and strange. You stood up slowly, legs still a little unsteady from the alcohol, and made your way to the bedroom, Namjoon following quietly behind you.

You didn’t speak as you reached the doorway. There was nothing to say, not really. So instead, you turned around and wrapped yourself around his body, pulling him in a tight hug.

“Thank you Joonie.”

Namjoon chuckled, squeezing you tightly before whispering “Anytime love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fluorescent lights of the 7/11 hummed overhead, as you stood in the middle of an aisle, heart melting into a puddle as you cooed over a chubby-cheeked baby sprawled across a shopping card. All bundled up in a puppy themed onesie, the little one giggled as he reached for a colorful toy, and you couldn’t help but mimic his joyous sounds.

You watched with admiration as the mother, a confident woman in yoga pants (and a vomit-stained shirt), gently tickled the baby’s round face, eliciting a fit of giggles.

Namjoon, as usual, was talking as he dropped something into your shopping cart, not that you were paying him any attention. Not when the baby’s eyes caught your gaze, his smile widening as he cooed at you.

“God Joon, I want one too.”

Namjoon, ever the pragmatist, didn’t miss a beat. “Well, I can get you one, they’re on sale.”

His voice was light, casual, the way he spoke when he didn’t take your thoughts too seriously. You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation.

“What are you talking about?”

“The crackers?” he said, glancing at you, his brow furrowed in confusion as he held a box of crackers in his hand, examining the label as though the fine print held some secret to the universe. “What are you talking about?”

You stared at him for a second, still caught up in the midst of your daydream, before laughing softly.

“The baby, Namjoon.”

“Ah-” he paused, looking back at the baby boy. “I don’t think they sell those here,” he chuckled, throwing a sly glance your way. “But if you want, I can distract the mother, and you make a run for the exit with the baby.”

You laughed at the absurdity of it, shooting him a playful glare, knowing where his teasing would lead.

“Don’t say that! You’ll get us kicked out." You scold with a playful grin.

Namjoon just shrugged, as if the thought didn’t bother him, the teasing glint in his eyes only making you smile wider. You pushed your cart towards the checkout line, the weight of it heavier now.

It’s been a few weeks since you had that moment of weakness, but the ache still lingered, quietly tucked away in the mundane day-to-day distractions. You’d buried the feelings under careful planning, an extra dose of work, and fleeting nights out with friends. But the longing never quite went away.

Instead, it had grown far beyond a mere ‘baby fever’. It was a full-blown malady by now.

Namjoon, however, was a constant, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of your thoughts. And tonight, it was no different, even in the middle of a basic errand run to 7/11. He was there, filling the space with his usual teasing and lighthearted energy, offering a sense of normalcy you didn’t even realize you missed.

“But seriously, I think you’d make a wonderful mother.” Behind you, Namjoon continued to toss items into the cart- bags of chips, cans of soda, candy bars- anything within his reach as he dropped one of the biggest compliments you’ve gotten in the past few years.

It hit you like a soft wave, unexpected, yet somehow exactly what you needed to hear. You paused, a bag of cereal halfway to your cart, processing his words. The motions of the store continued around you- people chatting, the hum of a checkout line in the distance, the baby’s giggles- but for a minute, they all slowed, and it was just the two of you in that fluorescent-lit aisle.

You turn slightly, trying to keep the heat from rising to your cheeks “You think so?”

Namjoon, oblivious to the shift in your mood, continued picking through the shelves, tossing things in your cart with an almost absentminded rhythm “I do.” He said, his voice easy and sincere as it always was with you

“You’re nurturing, you know? And patient. You make people feel safe, like they can just… be themselves around you.” He smiled “And you’re the mother of the friend group.”

He was focused on a big bottle of orange juice when he tacked on “You’d be amazing at it.”

The way he spoke made it sound so simple. But to you, it felt anything but simple. A rush of conflict swirled in your mind.

“Too bad my dating life is so stale,” you grumble, snapping him out of his obsession.

Your past experiences hadn’t been exactly pleasant. From really weird alpha-sigma-dudes trying to convince you that your worth as a woman has declined since you passed the age of 25, to insecure men that felt intimidated by your position in the working field, to just bad timing in general- it was all just… complicated.

The cherry on top was your last relationship. You felt the bitterness creep back into your chest as you thought about him- the doctor. The one who had lied to you for over two years. Even now, the memories felt like a stab straight to your ribs. Like a snake squeezing your heart into nothingness. You gave him everything, trusted him with your heart, only to have it shattered in the cruelest way. You could still remember the disbelief in your voice when you had to confront him.

“God, how did I miss that?” You murmured underneath your breath, your grip tightening around the cart handle.

Namjoon, who had been rifling through the cart, didn’t seem to notice the dark cloud that settled over you.

“Stale? Nah, you’re daring life’s just on pause.” He said, completely unaware of how much his words stung.

“The only man I wanted to start a family with turned out to be married!” You snap. The words slipped out before you could stop them, sharp and bitter. You could feel the heat rise to your chest as the frustration spilled over, the old wound reopening with an ache. Namjoon froze mid-motion, his hand still hovering over a bag of something. The silence that followed was heavy, and you immediately regretted it.

But Namjoon, ever the perceptive one, quickly managed to draw you back in.

“That dick?” he huffed “Its better you found out early on. I can’t bear the idea of you having asshole-babies.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Namjoon’s lighthearted response, despite the lasting burn. The absurdity of ‘asshole-babies’, paired with the sincerity of his tone, almost made the bitterness dissolve. The tension in your chest shifting slightly.

He dropped the bag back into your cart and met your eyes. “You deserve someone who treats you right, who sees all the amazing things you are. You don’t need to settle for anything less.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. It was comforting to hear him speak like that, as if he believed in you more than you sometimes believed in yourself.

“Thank you love,” you said softly, your smile genuine but still fragile.

He flashed a grin, nudging you with his elbow as he walked along you towards the checkout.

“Now, what the fuck did you buy? Why are there three bottles of ketchup here?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay! I have decided.” You announce suddenly, drawing the attention of everyone at the small table to you. The murmur of laughter and clicking of glasses fades into the background, and a bubble of anticipation surrounds your little booth.

The bar is buzzing with life; particularly crowded for a Thursday evening, yet, even among the crowded mess, Jungkook still somehow managed to secure a secluded little nook for your rag-tag group of four.

You glanced around the dimly lit room, where the flickering neon lights casted playful shadows along the walls- a slight twinge of courage envelops you as the warmth of the alcohol teases your senses, coloring your cheeks bright red.

Namjoon’s brow rises, and he takes a contemplative sip from his tall glass of beer, a thoughtful expression dancing across his face. In front of you, Jungkook and Aera are deep into their third glass, laughing at some inside joke only cringey couples would make, oblivious to the rising tension radiating from your suddenly bold proclamation.

“Decided?” Namjoon echoed, setting his glass down, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips as he watches you.

Aera and Jungkook both turn their attention to you as well. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, a mischievous glint in his eyes, while Aera wiped her lips with the back of her hand, ready for whatever random revelation you were about to drop.

“I’m going to have a baby by myself!”       

The words hung in the air for a long moment, as though the entire bar had suddenly gone still. Your proclamation floating quietly through the air before crashing and tumbling on the small table between you.

Namjoon blinked, his beer halfway to his mouth, while Aera and Jungkook both froze mid-laugh, their faces a reflection of disbelief and curiosity.

“What?” Jungkook was the first to speak, his voice completely drowning in confusion.

“I already set up a college saving’s account, and I got a head start on the nursery.” You reached for a napkin, just so your fingers have something to do. “The contractor is coming over this weekend to look at the room.” You looked up to gauge their reaction, but when no one spoke, you continued “I mean, I don’t even use the at-home office. It’s perfect.”

Leaning back into the seat, you plant your elbows on the table, the rough surface grounding you as the weight of your declaration settles heavy in the air.

“Wait, wait,” Aera says after regaining her composure, her eyes slightly narrowing with skepticism. “You’re seriously saying you want to become a single parent? Just like that?”

“She’s serious.” Namjoon cuts in, setting his now-empty beer glass down on the table.

He nursed that drink for the past hours only to finish it with one long sip?

 “Trust me, this isn’t a rushed decision. She’s been toying with the idea for months.” He mumbled, leaning back into the booth.

“Yeah,” you nod confidently “The kindergarten right down the block from me has an afternoon group. So, after the baby turns three, I can start working again. And until then I should live comfortably with my savings.”

“Noona you can’t!” Jungkook looks terrorized by the thought, the alcohol just as evident on his face as it was on yours. “So what? You’ll just start fucking every Dick, Harry and Joe in town until you get knocked up?”

Under normal circumstances, the youngling would be much more careful with his words around you, but now, with the buzz going on in his head, his desperation seemed to have taken over. His eyes quickly shifting from you to his Hyung, as if pleading Namjoon to back him up.

 The atmosphere shifts as Jungkook's words slice through your carefully crafted confidence. Laughter begins to bubble back to life around you, but your own heart has started to race, confusion and boldness swirling together like a cocktail in your stomach. You stare at Jungkook.

“You know that’s not how it works.” You reply, your tone steadier than you feel. An involuntary smile creeps back onto your lips. “It’s not that simple, and I’m not looking for casual hookups. God only knows what messed up genetics those dudes have. And I run a risk of an STD.” You shake your head. “No Kookie, I have a plan.”

You take a deep breath, allowing the faint buzz of the bar to seep into your consciousness again, grounding you while your amusement at Jungkook’s pure shock begins to surface again.

“Besides, the plan isn’t just a plan; it’s a well-thought-out strategy.” You try to encourage him, but he just blinks up at you like a hurt little puppy. “I scheduled an appointment at a fertility clinic.”

“And if the plan fails? What if you’re not ready for the challenges of parenting? It’s not just about the nursery or the savings. Have you thought about the reality of it?”

Deep down, you know that Aera just wants to help, however, her questions rub you slightly the wrong way.

“Of course I have!” You assert, a tad defensively but with sincerity woven into your voice. “I’ve done my research, Aera. What it takes. What I need. There are all sorts of resources out there for single parents. It’s not like I’ll be doing this entirely alone. I have you guys, and I know I can reach out to others too if it gets too tough.”

Jungkook ran an exasperated hand down his face, grasping at straws as he mumbled, “What about your love life? This is such a huge commitment, and you’re just going to push that aside for... A child?”

You appreciate the concern, but something in you quakes at the thought of your future being dictated solely by the prospect of a romantic relationship.

“My love life is already complicated. I don’t want to put my dreams on hold for a partner that might not even come.”

“Namjoon! Say something!” Jungkook pleaded, but the gentle giant just kept on silently studying you.

“Congratulations.” Was the only thing that left his lips after a long moment, making you beam up at him as if you’d just received a gold start on a test.

“See?” you said, your smile widening as you glanced back and forth between them. “Namjoon gets it! Life’s too short to wait around for the perfect moment!”

Aera finally shook her head, a soft smile gracing her lips despite the concern in her eyes. “It’s just, we can’t help but worry for you. What if it’s harder than you think? What if you regret this choice down the line?”

You reach for her hand, squeezing it gently. “That’s the thing Aera. I’m not doing this on a whim. I’ve mapped it out. I’m prepared. I believe I can give my child the love and support they need.” You smile, glancing between Jungkook and Namjoon.

“Fine.” Jungkook relented, leaning back in his seat with a resigned sigh, his hands raised in mock surrender. “I guess if you’re really set on this… just promise you won’t forget about me when you become Super Mom or something.”

Aera rolled her eyes playfully, yet her smile remained as she leaned against his chest “As if you’d let her forget. You’d probably be the most dramatic babysitter ever.”

A ripple of laughter echoed among the three of you, the tension momentarily lifting, only Namjoon just kept on staring at the bottom of his empty beer glass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook took no mercy on Namjoon as they walked down the street. After making sure you and Aera safely got an uber home, the little drunken monster unleashed.

“Hyung! You can’t let her do this!”

Namjoon gave a soft chuckle, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He was still processing everything himself; the weight of the conversation hanging heavily on him. Jungkook, who was practically bouncing on his feet with a mix of frustration and concern, shot him an incredulous look.

“You can’t just sit back and let her make such a huge decision by herself!” Jungkook insisted, his voice rising “She’s literally planning to have a baby alone, Hyung!”

“Kookie, she’s a full-grown woman.” Namjoon began slowly, rubbing a hand over his face “And she’s not doing this impulsively. She’s been thinking about it for months.” He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully “She’s not the kind of person to just… act on a whim. She has a plan. And I think, maybe, that’s what she needs right now.” He exhaled a deep breath, looking up at the street lights overhead, his mind running through the conversations he’d had with you.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, a look of disbelief plastered on his face.

“And what about you?”

Namjoon stopped walking, his steps halting mid-stride as the question hit him like a stone wall. For a brief moment, there was nothing but the distant hum of a passing car and the quiet rustling of leaved in the evening air. He turned towards Jungkook; his eyes wide with uncertainty.

“What about me?” Namjoon asked, his voice low, the question more to himself that to Jungkook at first.

“Are we really doing this now?” Jungkook groaned “You love her. C’mon, catch up.”

Namjoon stood still, eyebrows meeting his hairline. He had always kept his feelings hidden, buried under layers of friendship and mutual understanding, the steady belief that he was just someone who needed to be there for you- no strings attached.

But now? Jungkook’s question churned him harder than he expected.

Namjoon blinked, unsure whether to laugh it off or tell him off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kookie.”

Jungkook didn’t let up. “Hyung, I’m serious. I see the way you look at her! The way you act around her! You’re not fooling anyone!”

“Yes, because she’s my friend!” Namjoon tried to protest, but Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“You don’t look at me like that!”

Namjoon’s chest tightened, his throat a little dry as he tried to force some clarity into his emotions.

“Kookie. You’re drunk, you need to sleep it off.”

Jungkook shook his head, as if he were trying to clear out the haze of alcohol clouding his mind. But the intensity of his words didn’t waver. “I’m not drunk enough to miss what’s right in front of me.” His voice softened a little “I’m just saying… maybe it’s time to stop pretending?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Namjoon repeated, but his voice wavered slightly, betraying him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday movie nights have been a staple in your relationship. Something you both held sacred since the beginning. Only under the most extreme circumstances had either of you ever canceled.  

Lately, though, you seemed to call it off more often than not. Ever since you started your weekly appointments at the clinic, Namjoon noticed he was seeing less and less of you.

But tonight, you were adamant to keep the tradition alive. The opening credits of Deadpool 3 were already up on the screen, waiting for someone to press play, while Namjoon busied himself hauling all the blankets to the couch. A spread of your favorite snacks sat neatly on the coffee table. The only thing missing was... you.

In your bedroom, you sat at in the middle of your bed, the laptop balanced on your lap as you repeatedly refreshed your email inbox.

“You ready?” Namjoon called out from the living room.

“Yeah, just a sec!” You refresh again, your face lighting up when the awaited email appeared.

Namjoon watches your reaction and laughs, “Let me guess. It’s going to be more than a second now?”

“I just got the donor list. Want to help me choose?”

Namjoon’s laughter fades, replaced by a look of concern that make your heart race. He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to gauge your enthusiasm.

“Choose?” he repeats hesitantly, “Like, pick a donor?”

“Yeah,” you respond, excitement bubbling over as you quickly type away on the computer. “You’re my friend. I want your input. It feels right.”

He bites his lip, unsure of how to process this new layer to your already documented decision. “You really want me involved in this?”

“Of course! I trust you. Plus, it’s a big step. I could use a little support.” You give him a little sheepish smile, almost hiding your face behind the screen.

Namjoon nods slowly, the weight of your request settling in. “Okay… I’m here for you.” You beam up at him, quickly patting the space next to you “Just-how do we do this?” Namjoon settled down, his eyes quickly scanning the screen.

“There’s a list of profiles with backgrounds, interests and even photos. We can look through it together.” You pause, letting him read over the page.

“This guy seems interesting.” you say pointing to a profile that catches your eye “He’s into poetry, works as a dentist and seems really kind…” but your voice dies down “Ah, but his hair line is receding.”

Namjoon leans closer. “What about this smiley one?” he asks, highlighting a profile with a striking smile.

“Nah, he has a bit of an overbite.” You move the mouse away, “I want to minimize the chances of the kid needing braces.”

Namjoon chuckles, watching you scroll through the list “Oh look! A Redhead!”

“Can I be honest?” you glance up at him, smiling once you caught his gaze “I’m not really into gingers.” You whisper, earning yourself a lighthearted laugh from him. His dimples deepen, and his eyes nearly disappear with mirth.

“You’re such a stereotype.” He teases.

You finish scrolling through the profiles. Each one eliciting more critiques than compliments.

“Too many tattoos.”

“Too much facial hair.”

A crooked nose, a weird eye color, a weird mole. Too short; too tall. That one yodels for fun. You could go on~

After a few more profiles you reached the end. “Ugh, none of these guys are right. It’s like a never-ending list of disappointments.” You groan, closing the laptop and falling back on the mattress.

Namjoon sighs dramatically, taking the laptop from your grasp and setting it on the bedside table, leaning back on the bed. “Maybe you should add a ‘no weirdo’s filter’.”

“Seriously! What’s wrong with some of these guys?” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

This was already the third trial, and you still hadn’t chosen a single profile. Deep down, you knew the things you got so fixated on were merely superficial flaws, but they felt monumental when it came to deciding your future. Even with your careful planning, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were running an undeniable risk.

That is not even considering the fact that the insemination might not even work in the first place. But that only added more chances and statistics to your plan, making your head spin. So, you consciously avoided that rabbit hole.

Namjoon chuckles softly, rolling on his side to face you. For a moment he said nothing, quietly studying your frustration.

“Listen,” he finally broke the silence, his eyes reflecting a gentle resignation “I know you don’t need it; but you have my full support. Whatever- or whoever- you pick.” His smile was so sincere that it made your heart skip over a beat, and in that moment, a new, bold idea took root in your mind.

You allowed yourself a moment to admire your friend- his perfectly symmetric face, kind eyes and adorable dimples. Your gaze drifted lower, taking in his chiseled jawline, elegant neck and the contours of his collarbones, all perfectly complementing his broad shoulders and newly toned muscles.

Suddenly, that unconventional idea that popped in your mind began to feel more enticing. After all, you knew him- the little quirks, the strengths, the pet peeves. You’d met his parents’ countless times. It could actually work out. And you were confident enough in your relationship to give it a shot.

You let out a soft sigh, your heart racing as you considered the next step in your journey. Turning to face him, you bit your lip as you hesitate before speaking.

“Namjoon… can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He propped himself up on one elbow, concern flickering across his face.

You took a deep breath, gathering your ideas. “I’ve been thinking about this process, and-” You swallowed hard “It’s a big commitment. I want to make sure everything it perfect, you know?”

 He is so understanding, watching you quietly and nodding along to your ramblings.

“So, I was wondering if you’d be willing to get tested.” You rushed the words out, your gaze darting to the ceiling, avoiding his eyes.

Namjoon’s brows furrowed in confusion “Get tested? Like... for what?”

You swallowed again, trying to keep your voice steady. “For compatibility. I’d like to know the donor’s genetics, and it would really help to have your input on it. It you’re comfortable, of course.”

A heavy silence filled the room. You could feel the tension in the air as Namjoon processed your request, your heart racing louder with each passing second of his contemplative silence.

“Wait.” He finally snapped, his voice low and measured “You want me to get tested as a potential donor?”

Your palms felt clammy as you looked back at him, offering him a shy nod “Yes?”

“That’s not what I meant-” He stopped his own idea in its tracks “Won’t it make things weird between us?”

“No! Just think about it! I know you; I know your family history. I like your face. And we don’t have to tell anyone. And you can choose how much you want to be involved in the baby’s life. Like I said, I want to be a single parent.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he listened to you ramble on and on about your idea. His brows furrowed deeper, knitting together as he tried to process your words. After a few long moments of constant talking, he held up a hand, stopping your frantic speech.

“Slow down,” he instructed, his voice low and measured, “Let me get this straight- you want me to consider being a sperm donor for your child?”

You nodded eagerly, stomach twisting with emotion and heart picking up in double time. “Yes! I know it’s a lot to ask, but I trust you. We’re best friends, and it would be nice to have a personal connection to the kid’s other parent.”

He turned away from you, deep in thought running a hand through his hair in agitation. “I-I don’t know.” His throat made a weird noise “This is a lot to process.”

Suddenly feeling uncertain, you bit your lip hard. “I know, I know. And it’s totally fine if you say no. We never have to speak of this again.” You shift slightly, feeling heat rise to your neck. “I just though since we’re so close…” You mumble, losing your idea for a moment, before quickly picking it up again "It's not like we'd be raising the kid together! Just, you know...biologically related. As friends."

Namjoon sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Look, I need some time to think about this, okay? It's not a decision I can make lightly."

"Of course," you replied quickly, not wanting to pressure him. "Take all the time you need. I'm sorry for springing this on you out of nowhere."

He offered a small, reassuring smile. “It’s all right. I’m just surprised. That’s all. I’ll let you know once I’ve had a chance to really consider it.’

You nodded, feeling a mix of hope and anxiety swirling in your gut. “Thank you, Joonie. Just for thinking about it.”

He reached out, giving your hand a comforting squeeze “I’ll always be here for you.”

You returned the gesture, heart full of affection for your best friend. “I know, thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joon 🎍: Just got the tests back. Damn. Don’t even know what half these things are. Busy-bee🐝: If you bring them over, I’ll translate. 😊 Joon 🎍: Yeah. Omw rn. Did you have dinner yet? Busy-bee🐝: Nooo, can we please have Bibimbap? Joon 🎍: Anything you want, love.

Namjoon arrived a short while later, carrying a takeout bag that wafted delicious aromas through the kitchen. He set it down on the table with familiarity, fetching plates and utensils as you carefully looked over the medical results.

“Bibimbap, just as you ordered.” He said, grinning. He looked at you, his expression shifting to one of concern as he noticed the serious look on your face “Is everything okay?”

You glanced up from the papers, forcing a smile “Just trying to wrap my head around all of this.”

He slid into the chair across from you, pulling the take-out container and placing it in front of you. “Take a break from the serious stuff for a moment. Food first. Medicine later.”

You chuckle softly and opened the container, the colorful array of veggies and rice making your stomach growl. “You’re right. Can’t think on an empty stomach.”

As you began to eat, Namjoon began to rifle through the papers. “So, what’s this one?” He picked up a paper, squinting at the dense text. “I swear, some of these graphs look like they belong in a science-fiction novel.”

You giggled, nodding along “I know, right? Let me see… This one is about genetic markers for health risks, and this one,” you pointed to the colorful one “It’s about traits related to personality and intelligence.”

Namjoon let out a long-intrigued sound, “What does it say about me?”

You chuckle, trying to suppress a smile “Well, it’s not like one of those personality tests you find in a girly magazine. But it says our baby might have higher chances of being a visual learner, with higher openness to experiences.” You take a big bite, quietly chewing over the fact that you just called it ‘our baby’ – as in, you and Namjoon. Mashed together.

“Openness to experience? That’s code for ‘adventurous’ right? I think I prefer the term ‘spontaneous’.” Namjoon feigned offence, looking over the papers as if trying to confirm your diagnosis.

 “It’s another way to say you’ll jump at any wild idea.” You tease him, mouth half-full. “But it’s a good quality! You’re creative, fun and adaptable.”

He leaned in closer, curiosity piqued “And what about intelligence? Am I a genius?”

You flipped the paper around, scanning for the relevant section. “Looks like you score high on analytical thinking and problem-solving. So, I guess, in the right context, you could definitely call yourself a genius,”

“Can I add that to my cv?” he joked, before turning serious again “But does any of this affect your choice? Does it change anything for you?”

You took a moment, pondering his question as you quietly chewed your food. “I guess it just adds another layer to think about. I want the baby to have a good mix of traits, you know? If I choose a donor who has strengths like yours, it could make an indent in my favor.”

Namjoon’s expression softened, silently watching you scan the results, before a small smile tugged at his lips. “Whatever you decide, love.”

You smiled, feeling reassured as you grabbed the next paper “Thanks, love. Now, let’s see how your swimmers are doing!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a thin line between being a genius and an idiot. Namjoon liked using that line as a jumping rope. He had been called both names, sometimes within the same day. One minute he’d be diving deep into philosophical discussions, and the next he was deemed a mumbling fool simply because you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

He knows he is brilliant. His academic achievements and professional life were testament to that. A whole company depending on his decision. Yet here he was, getting grilled for the past hour by Seokjin and Taehyung for being the biggest dumbass that walked this dying earth.

“What do you mean you just agreed to be her sperm donor?” Seokjin blurted; his disbelief palpable as he leaned against Namjoon’s desk.

Namjoon just shrugged, trying to keep his cool. “It’s not as simple as that. We’ve talked about it, and I think it could work out.”

Taehyung leaned in; eyes wide with mock horror “You really jumped into this without thinking it through? Are you insane?”

“I thought about it plenty!” Namjoon retorted, frustration creeping in. “I trust her! We’re best friends. This isn’t some random decision.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk “Best friend or not, you’ll be tied to her and that kid for life!  You’d practically be family!”

"Guys, I get it," he said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. "I've thought about this a lot, and I really believe this is the right thing to do."

Taehyung shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. "You're not thinking straight, Namjoon. This is a huge decision, and you're not even considering the long-term implications."

"I am considering them!" Namjoon insisted. "I know that by agreeing to be her donor, I'm getting myself involved with her and the kid for life. But that's exactly what I want. I want to be there for them and support them in any way I can."

Seokjin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Namjoon, you're a brilliant guy. You've always been one of the smartest people I know. But sometimes, I worry that you're so focused on doing the right thing that you don't stop to consider whether it's the smart thing."

Namjoon opened his mouth to protest, but Taehyung cut him off. "He's right, Namjoon! This isn't just a textbook case. This is real life, and there are real emotions involved. You can't just apply your weird logic to everything and expect it to work out."

Namjoon sighed, feeling a pang of frustration. He knew his friends were just trying to protect him, but he couldn’t help but feel like they were overcomplicating things.

"Maybe you're right," he said after a moment. "Maybe I am an idiot for doing this. But it's a risk I'm willing to take. I trust her, and I want to be there for her. That's all that matters to me."

Seokjin and Taehyung exchanged a look, but eventually, they both nodded.

"Alright," Seokjin said. "We'll support you, no matter what. But you’re still an idiot.”

Namjoon sighed; resignation evident on his features at he turned his attention back to his computer.

“You could’ve asked her on a date and get to the baby making naturally.” Seokjin added.

“She doesn’t want a relationship.”

“Well, you can skip straight to the baby making!” Taehyung exclaimed, but Namjoon just rolled his eyes.

 “It’s not that simple, Tae...”

 Unbeknownst to Namjoon, on the other side of town, you and Sumi, your good friend and co-worker, were engaged in a strikingly similar conversation.

“So, I asked him to donate a sample.” You fidgeted with your fingers under the table, unable to meet her eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you voiced your actions. “Any thoughts?”

Sumi studies you for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. You felt the intensity of her gaze as she tries to gauge your sincerity. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Yes, and prayers,” she said softly “You need them.” She gives you that incredulous look that only the head nurses seem to master.

You blink, stunned by her response. You expected something different, something along the lines of excitement or curiosity, instead, her reaction was surprisingly tame.

“Why didn’t you just bang him?” She asks, her tone casual, no hint of professionalism in her demeanor.

Your eyes widen in shock “Ayy! Don’t say that!”

“I mean, you can cut out the clinical middle man this way,” she continued “And god knows you need to get laid.”

Your face grew hot. “That’s not the point...” you mumble.

Sumi raised an eyebrow. “Then what is the point, exactly?” She leaned back in her chair, bubble tea clasped in her hands and a smirk playing on her lips. “The baby gets made either way. This is just more fun.” She giggled “You know, Jimin told me that Namjoon used to have quite a reputation with women back in his day.”

You shift in your seat, avoiding Sumi’s probing gaze as you gathered your thoughts. The conversation has taken a turn you hadn’t anticipated, and you were struggling to find the right words.

“The point is, I want to do this the right way.” you say, aimlessly spinning the straw in your drink. “I want to give this child the best possible start in life, and that means doing things properly.”

Sumi considers your words for a moment, before nodding in understanding “I get that,” she says. “But you don’t have to be so serious all the time. You can still have fun and enjoy the process.”

You can’t help but snicker as she emphasizes the words “You sound just like Jimin,” you say, referencing her boyfriend. “He’s always telling me to lighten up and enjoy myself.”

“Well, he’s not wrong.” Sumi says with a grin. “And just so we’re clear, sex is the ‘proper way’ that normal humans use to make babies.”

You roll your eyes, “I know that.”

“Good. At least I don’t need to explain how that works.” She smirks “And I’m sure Namjoon would be more than happy to oblige.”

Suddenly, a very vivid image appears in your mind. Namjoon, hovering over you, his breath washing over your face as your hips collide together. You feel a shiver run down your spine, butterflies emerging in your stomach and quickly push the thought away.

“Make the poor guy feel more involved in the process. You’re treating him like milking cow right now.”

“God, don’t say that!” You cry out, shaking your head to clear the image from your mind. Namjoon was a gentleman, and you were grateful for his help. But the thought of asking him to sleep with you too made you uncomfortable. How would that conversation go?

Hey Joonie, since you’re already getting me pregnant, why not just fuck me?

Sumi laughed, "Well, it's an option. And sometimes, the most unconventional methods can lead to the most beautiful outcomes."

You couldn't argue with that. After all, you were about to become a single mother, and that was certainly not the conventional route.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you look across the table at her. She was watching you with a knowing smile, one that suggested she could see right through your nervous façade.

“And just think of it this way, all that money you save from all the clinic appointments can go towards buying cute baby clothes.”

That was the weakest argument yet, but still, you found yourself actually entertaining that idea.

“Do you really think he’ll agree?” as the words leave your mouth a pang of guilt strikes you. Namjoon has been nothing but kind and generous so far, and here you were, letting your horny thoughts take over. You respect and value your friendship more than the need to ‘make things fun’. You can’t do anything to jeopardize that.

“Trust me babe,” Sumi sounds so casual in her conviction. She’s right thought- sometimes, the unconventional ways do lead to the most favorable outcomes. And you can’t deny the spark that ignites in your chest whenever you think about Namjoon.

And this way, you can have more control over the situation. The amount, the frequency. The position….

After all, all the pregnancy and fertility books you’d read recommended that a deep connection is important when it comes to getting pregnant.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers again. “I mean, it’s not like I can just ask him to sleep with me.”

Sumi chuckles and takes a sip of her bubble tea. "Why not? You're two consenting adults, and you both want the same thing. It's not like you're asking him to marry you or anything."

You can't help but roll your eyes at her flippant attitude. "Yeah, I know, but it's not that simple. Namjoon is a good friend, and I don't want to ruin that. Plus, I don't know if I'm ready for something so...intimate with him."

Sumi raises an eyebrow. "Intimate? Girl, you're already asking him to donate his sperm. How much more intimate can you get?"

You take a deep shaky breath, trying to lower your blood pressure as you absorbed her words. She has a point- you hate it, but she has a point.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” you finally say, meeting her gaze. Sumi just smirks at you, clearly pleased with that response.

“That’s all I can ask for.” She says, taking another sip from her bubble tea. “And remember, there’s no rush. Take your time and do whatever feels right.”

You nodded, feeling the heaviness in your chest swirl. You knew this was a big decision, and you don’t want to take any part of it lightly. But you also can’t ignore the possibilities that lay ahead.

As the conversation turns to other topics, your thoughts wandered back to Namjoon. You imagined his kind smile, his gentle nature, and his unwavering support. And you can help but let your mind fantasize.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Busy-bee🐝: Need to ask you smth. Joon 🎍: If it’s about the sample, I’m omw to drop it off at the clinic now. Busy-bee🐝: NoooOooOoo Busy-bee🐝: Stop! Busy-bee🐝: Pls don’t. Joon 🎍: Did you change your mind? Busy-bee🐝: No. Not quite. Joon 🎍: Quite? What happened? What do I do now? Busy-bee🐝: Can you just come over? Joon 🎍: Sure? But just so you know. I have a jar of sperm with me. Busy-bee🐝: Yyuckkk Joon 🎍: Don’t worry. It’s sealed. Busy-bee🐝: Still gross, lol. Just hurry. Need to talk.

While you waited for him to arrive, your heart pounded in your chest. You paced around your apartment in your pajamas, desperately searching for something- anything to clean or organize. The conversation with Sumi replayed in your mind, her words echoing as you contemplated your options thoroughly.  

You couldn’t possibly complicate things with Namjoon, could you?

A soft knock on the door breaks you out of your reverie. And with a deep breath, you open it to find Namjoon standing there, casual and charming, in a green hoodie and ripped jeans, the familiar warm smile lighting up his face.

“Hey,” he says, stepping inside “What’s up? You sounded urgent.”

“Um, yeah…” you close the door behind him and gestured for him to sit on the couch. “I wanted to talk about the… um, sample?”

He raises an eyebrow “Didn’t you just say not to take it to the clinic?”

You wince sightly, still grappling with how to express what you really wanted to say. “Well, I was thinking…maybe we can talk about the process?”

Namjoon settles down, giving you his full attention, confusion clearly evident on his face “What’s on your mind?”

“Sumi mentioned that-” You stop, allowing yourself a second to gather your fraying thoughts, “Well, since we’re both consenting adults…I thought it would be more medically apt to try this with a more ‘hand-on’ approach.”

He nodded, listening closely as he rubbed his chin. A cliché lightbulb suddenly going off in his mind and Namjoon’s eyes widened as he took you in.

“Are you suggesting you what I think you’re suggesting? Because if you’re not my mind went to a very inappropriate place.” He asks, his tone light but serious.

You stammer, nodding slowly as heat flooded your face and neck. “I mean, it’s just an idea. We’re both single…” you trail off, staring at a painting on the wall, “I know it’s unconventional, but I just want to make sure everything’s… right.”

He leans back, quietly considering your words, “It’s definitely a bigger step. Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”

As he leaned back on the couch, he spread his legs wider, getting comfortable and invertedly drawing your attention to his well-toned thighs, making your mouth go dry.

“Honestly,” you force yourself to look him in the eye. “I don’t know. But I like the idea of us being more connected during the- that. It feels… outlined better?” you sighed exasperated with your own brain for not cooperating.  “But I don’t want it to ruin our friendship. You mean a lot more to me.”

“You mean a lot to me too, and don’t worry,” he says, “I promise the friendship will remain intact.” He paused for a moment, “And I also agreed once, so yeah, I’m here for you whatever you decide.”

A quiet moment passes as you let his words sink in. His expression was earnest, and the sincerity in his voice offered a reassuring warmth. It was comforting to know that, no matter what weird direction you decide to go in, Namjoon would still treat you like a priority. You let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Really? You’d be okay with that?”

“Of course,” Namjoon replied, “If your plan needs me here five times a week, then I’ll be here.”

A deep red blush creeps up your neck to settle on your cheeks, as your mind quietly conjures up the scenario where five nights in a row, Namjoon comes over and bends you over every surface in your apartment.

You smiled, a wave of excitement washing over you, but beneath that smile, your mind raced and your heart fluttered. This was a significant decision, and you needed to approach it strategically!

“The plan requires we lay down some ground rules first,” you say, shifting your tone to a more analytical one, “We need to define what this would look like for both of us. Like boundaries, approach and what we’re comfortable with.”

As you sit down next to him, your heart still pounds in your chest. “Okay, so, here’s what I was thinking,” you begin after a drawn-out breath, “We should approach this like a partnership, with communication and mutual respect. We’ll need to set some rules and make sure we’re both comfortable.”

“That makes sense. I want you to feel safe throughout this process. What kind of boundaries did you have in mind?”

 “Well, for starters, we should only do this when we’re sober and well-rested. And we should check in with each other beforehand to make sure we’re on the same page.” You scratch at the back of your neck, looking away for a second.

“That’s a good start.”

“And it’s about the baby making.” You add.

“We already established that.” Namjoon nods, a serious look on his face.

“Are you comfortable with a more casual approach or do you think we should be more clinical about it?”

“Casual. Definitely.” Namjoon shakes his head at the idea of doing it in a sterile white room, a shiver running down his spine. But he quickly composes himself and in turn asks you, “What about after? Do we tell people about this, or keep it to ourselves?”

You took a moment to chew on your bottom lip, considering the implications, even though you’ve thought about this before.

“We should keep it to ourselves for the moment being. Even if almost everyone knows you donated, they don’t need to know…” you trail off again, the blush deepening “How.”

Namjoon nods in understanding, “I can respect that. I don’t want any unnecessary drama.” He gave you a reassuring smile.

You take another deep breath, and allow the sense of relief that comes with his smile wash away any lingering discomfort.

“Thank you. I really appreciate everything you’re doing.

Namjoon reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm here for you, no matter what. And I want you to know that I'm not doing this out of a sense of obligation. I genuinely care about you and want to help you achieve your dream of becoming a mother."

Your heart swells with emotion at his words. "Thank you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That means more to me than you could ever know."

You sit there for a moment, hands intertwined in silence. The weight of your decision quietly sinking in around you.

“I think the next thing we need to set is a schedule,” you say, ruining the moment. “It’s important we’re consistent about this, for the best possible outcome.”

“How often do you think we should try?”

“The research suggests that every other day is a good-enough frequency. But we can see how it works out and adjust afterwards.”

“Every other day. Got it.” He confirms, then asks the only important question of the night:

“When do we start?”

Your heart stops right in its tracks, even as you distract yourself by suddenly reaching to grab your phone, “Let me look at my cycle.” You mumble, opening the fertility tracking app you’d been using.

As you scroll through the app, you felt Namjoon’s presence loom closer, curiosity evident of his face. “How does that work exactly?”

“Do you need me to explain a period to you?” You tease, small smile breaking you from your serious poise.

“No. I just-” Namjoon took a deep breath, nervousness lingering on the edge of his voice as he ran a hand through his hair, “I’m just thinking out loud here, but why wait?”

An audible gasp leaves you lips when you look up at him.

The air between you crackles with electricity, and you suddenly realize just how close you were. In that moment you could almost feel the weight of your actions begin to unravel.

You lock eyes, the tension thickening as you ponder his suggestion. Taking a shaky breath, your heart thunders, and you struggle to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

"Are you sure?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "I mean-"

Namjoon nods, leaning closer to you, his voice steady "I'm sure."

You bite your bottom lip, your mind racing as you try to decide whether or not to take the leap. You've always been a planner, someone who likes to have everything mapped out in advance, but for once in your life, you find yourself wanting to throw caution out the window.

It couldn’t possibly hurt; in fact, it might prove to be beneficial. You’d get the awkward stage over with quickly, instead of letting it simmer while waiting for your fertile window.

Why let nervousness and anticipation settle in when he’s right here, sitting on your couch looking absolutely delectable?

You quickly go over your mental check-list, feeling grateful that you showered and shaved just before he arrived. Your Pj’s are cute, and while your underwear isn’t the sexiest, it’s decent- either way, this isn’t about passion; it’s practical.

You were almost done chewing your lip off when you feel his thumb gently touch your chin, stopping you.

“Only if you want.”

“I can’t remember if I made my bed this morning.” You whisper sheepishly, pulling him out of his serious demeanor. His heartfelt laughter weaving through the tension that hung between you.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m here,” You giggle, shaking your head and throwing your phone somewhere on the couch. “Let’s do this.”

Namjoon’s smile broadens as he stands up, extending his hand to you. You almost hesitate for just a moment before placing your hand in his, letting him  pull you up from the couch and in his arms. Heat radiates off his body as he leans in, his hand gently brushing your hair away from your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, closing your eyes as his breath lingers just above your lips.

Then, he kisses you.

At first, it’s gentle, his lips barely brushing over yours, a subtle invitation for you to take the lead. His lips taste faintly like mint from Chapstick, soft and warm, and soon the kiss deepens with a surge of passion. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, feeling the heat between you build. Namjoon’s hands glide to your back, exploring you with a leisurely touch that sends waves of excitement through you.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck, and you tilt your head back, moaning softly when he gently nibbles on your ear.

“You’re adorable.” He whispers, his hands moving to the front of your shirt to cup your breasts. You gasp as he teases your nipples through your shirt, and with a flicker of courage, your hands slip under his hoodie, feeling the hard lines of his abs under your fingertips.

Namjoon smirks at you as you tug his hoodie upward, but he helps you pull it off, revealing his bare chest and you run your fingers over his toned muscles, feeling his heartbeat beneath your touch.

“Joonie, you’re so jacked.” You say with an airy laugh, feeling a surge of confidence pulse through you. “God, I need you.” Taking his hands in yours, you guide him towards the bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

Walking ahead, you can feel a wave of self-consciousness wash over you, even as you remind yourself that this is just Namjoon—the man who always chooses his words carefully and who’s always there for you. But any hesitation melts away when you reach the bedroom. You push the door open, and with renewed vigor, you quickly shed your shirt and bra, moving on to your pants.

Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of you standing there in just your underwear. Though he fights to remain respectful, the hunger in his gaze is unmistakable when you bend down to throw your clothes in the corner of the room.

When you face him again, his lips capture yours, silencing whatever you were about to say. His tongue delves into your mouth, teasing and exploring, and you respond eagerly, his touch sending a thrill of excitement through you.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He murmurs, his mouth leaving a trail of fire down your neck and shoulders. You arch into his touch, your eagerness growing with every lingering touch.

When his mouth finally finds your breasts, he captures one in his mouth and starts teasing it with the lightest graze of his teeth. A sharp gasp escapes you, a rush of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

Your hands fumble with the button of his jeans, desperate to feel him against you. But struggling to push his jeans down, Namjoon steps back just enough to help you, letting you slide them off with ease.

Taking a moment, you stop to gawk at his arousal straining against his boxers. Damn, you had a feeling he was equipped. He just carried that air about him.   But nothing could have prepared you for how massive he actually was. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, sends a new wave of heat through your body, and you find yourself biting your lip in eager anticipation.

You can’t help but stare, taking in his impressive size. He truly is a giant, with broad shoulders, a muscular chest, and an impressive cock. You can’t wait to feel him against you, inside of you, filling you up all the way.

But Namjoon has other ideas. He kneels in front of you, his hands moving to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before pulling you closer. He plants a series of soft kisses along your stomach and thighs, each one sending waves of electricity coursing through you.

“Can I take these off?” he asks against your thigh, playfully snapping the elastic of your panties. And unable to speak, you nod.

With a quick tug, Namjoon hooks his fingers around the elastic and pulls, leaving you completely bare before him. You gasp as the cold air brushes against your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he looks up at you, his gaze intense and full of determination.

You take a moment to savor the image before you: Namjoon kneeling, his eyes dark with desire, radiating an intensity that makes it seem like he could devour you whole. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and without hesitation, he places one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing your inner thigh while his fingers move to your folds. A jolt of pleasure shoots down your spine as he finds your clit, rubbing tight, deliberate circles against it.

“So wet.” He breaths against you, sending shivers through your body. He glances up at you one last time, seeking your permission with his gaze.

“Namjoon, wait,” you say, gently pushing him away. “This isn’t how we make a baby.”

God, the hold he had over you was intoxicating, making it nearly impossible to refocus and regain your composure.

He chuckles, the hunger in his eyes still smoldering. “No, but this is going to make you feel really, really good.” He replied, his voice a low rumble, hands still holding you steady by the hips.

“I know. But this isn’t about feeling good.” You insist, your hand dropping from his hair and your leg from his shoulder.

Namjoon almost looks disappointed as you step away from him, but then he nods, understanding the importance of your goal.

“Right, I got carried away.”

“Here, just sit on the bed,” you instruct, offering a hand to help him up. Namjoon obeys, perching himself on the edge of the bed, his gaze locked onto you, tracking your every step as you approach. 

Removing his boxers, you’re awestruck once again by the sight of his pretty cock—big, veiny and heavy with a flushed pink tip, leaking precum. Namjoon reclines slightly, his hands resting behind his head, watching you straddle him. You spit into your hand, wrapping it around his hardness to pump him a few times before positioning him at your entrance, slowly sinking down on him.

You both let out a sigh of pleasure as he fills you completely. A soft whimper escapes you as you bottom out, and you bury your face in his shoulder as his hands move to your hips, his thumbs tracing gentle circles in a soothing rhythm.

“Are you okay?” he whispers in your hair.

“Yeah, give me a second,” you reply, taking a deep breath as you adjust to the stretch, his warmth filling you completely. After a moment, you straighten up, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. “It’s been a while.”

Namjoon nods, his gaze soft as he steadies you, guiding you into a rhythm. Rising and sinking back down, you gasp at the sensation of being this stuffed, bracing your hands on his chest for balance as you start to rock your hips, grinding against him.

At first, you move slowly, savoring the feeling, but soon your pace quickens, spurred by the intensity building in your lower stomach.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Namjoon encourages, squeezing your hips to help you maintain your rhythm. Your quiet moans blending beautifully with the sound of skin meeting skin, filling the room with your shared pleasure.

Before long, your thighs start to burn, but the growing tension inside you keeps you bouncing on his cock. You were almost there; Namjoon could sense it too in the way your walls flutter around him. One of his hands slips between your bodies, fingers deftly finding your clit and stroking it with perfect precision.

And once he feels you getting too tired to continue, Namjoon takes over, trusting up into you with powerful, steady strokes that meet your faltering movements. The intensity of his pace, mixed with his fingers that never slowed, push you right over the edge, sending you spiraling into bliss.

You cry out as waves of pleasure ripple through you, your orgasm shaking you to your core. Namjoon groans, feeling you clench around him as your body crashes against his chest. His hands grip your ass tightly, and his thrusts grow erratic as he chases his own release, his breathing ragged and soft whimpers escaping his lips. Each sound spurs another clench from you, drawing him even closer to the edge.

“Come on, baby,” you whisper in his ear, fingers gently massaging his scalp as you let him use your spent body however he pleases. “Just let go.”

With a loud, drawn-out moan, Namjoon buries himself deep inside you, and you feel his hot, sticky cum filling you completely. A cry escaped you, muffled against his shoulder as you sink your teeth into his soft skin, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

Your body slowly relaxes, breaths still coming out in quick, shallow gasps.

Namjoon looks over at you, a satisfied smile softening his expression, and a deep, unexpected sense of connection settles over you, an intimacy unlike anything you’ve felt before. Leaning in, you kiss him slowly, silently thanking him for the experience

As you pull away, you roll to lie beside to him, your legs still intertwined. Staring up at the ceiling, a warm contentment fills you, grounding you in the quiet rhythm of his steady breathing.

“Thank you,”

 “Anything for you, love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6:30 AM- Your alarm rings.

You bolt upright, momentarily forgetting you were meant to wake up, letting out a little groan as you flop back onto the pillow.

“Why do you wake up so fucking early?”

The voice behind you startles you, and you remember with a rush that Namjoon ended up spending the night. His deep, early morning voice sends a flutter of butterflies through your stomach, memories of last night’s activities rushing back to you.

“Usually I do my yoga,” you mumble back, “and after that I shower and get ready for work.” You yawn, stretching all your limbs, before settling right back in his arms, snuggling closer.

“Why?”

“Because we can’t all afford to sleep till noon.” You tease.

Namjoon chuckles softly, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Fair point. But I could get used to sleeping in with you.”

You smile, your heart picking up at the thought. “Maybe I’ll let you join my morning routine someday.” You stay nestled in his arms for a few more moments, enjoying the comfort of his warmth. But soon, the call of nature interrupts your peaceful morning.

With a reluctant sigh, you wiggle out of his embrace. “I’ll be right back.” You say, glancing over your shoulder at him.

Namjoon nods, sleepy smile on his face as he watches your naked body, before he snaps himself out of it.

“Are you going to take a pregnancy test?”

You chuckle as you swing your legs off the bed and pad softly towards the bathroom. “It’s too early. That would be a waste of a test.”

The cold floor contrasts with the warmth you just left behind, and as you close the door, you can’t help but grin, thinking about how nice it is to have him there with you. 

You quickly go about your business, splashing some water on your face to wake yourself up. After a moment you finish up and head back to the bedroom. Namjoon is still lounging against the pillows, his eyes slightly glazed but filled with warmth.

“Back already?” he asks, sleepy smile spreading across his face.

“Yeah,” you walk over to your closet, rifling through your clothes as you decide what to wear. The soft morning light filtering through the windows, casing a warm glow over the room. Once you’re all done you walk over to him, leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“I’m heading out. I’ll leave the spare key in the kitchen for you.” You say, feeling a mix of excitement and reluctance to leave.

He smiles, his dimples showing up on his cheeks, “Thanks, I’ll take good care of it…”

You laugh lightly, leaning in again, this time kissing him.

“God, if anything, I hope out baby gets your dimples.” You confess, your heart swelling at the thought.

His expression softens, a hint of surprise lighting up his eyes. “That would be adorable.” He says, a smile spreading across his face, and this time he leans in to kiss you. So soft and sweet, almost convincing you to join him back in bed. You need to place a hand on his chest to pull away, a deep red blush spreading across your face.

“I’ll text you later.”

“It’s a plan.” He smiles, watching you walk away, taking the warmth in the room with you. When the bedroom clicks shut, he finally feels like he can breathe again.

He was a walking disaster. Books will be written about his sheer foolishness, how he willingly tosses aside logic and reason in your presence.

Yet, deep down, he recognized that beneath his eager exterior lay a selfish yearning- a desire for you, wholly and completely, all to himself.

But for as long as you would have him, even like this, with weirdly restricted intimacy, he would give you everything you ask for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the following months, you two manage to establish a working system. The spare key was Namjoon’s now, and he had a dedicated drawer in your closet for his things.

His toothbrush quietly chilling next to yours in the master bathroom.

Along the way, you uncovered a surprising list of things you never imagined you’d learn about your best friend;

Like the fact that he is a talker, loving the way you’d clench around him when he spills pure filth in your ear. He talks you through your climaxes, encouraging you to lose yourself, and cheering you on as if you were competing in a marathon each time.

He also had a habit of giving you all kinds of pet-names, sweet endearments that easily fell from his lips. “Sweetheart”, “Baby”, “Honey”, “Lovely”. However, your favorite was probably the time he accidentally called you a ‘busy bee’ in the middle of one of his ecstatic hazes. The unexpected nickname bringing a smile to your face, even as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure he unleashed within you.

He also had a thing for hickeys. Your breasts now fully decorated with blooming red love-marks, after you scolded him for leaving one right under your collar bone for the whole world to see.

For two weeks, you only wore turtlenecks because of him.

But what stood out the most was his seemingly endless stamina. If it wasn’t for your insistence to take it easy, he would very willingly fuck you until the early morning light.

Much like he was doing right now…

But it was Saturday. You decide you could afford to sleep in.

You could feel him right in your stomach, a ring of cum forming at the base of his cock as he kept on pounding into your abused pussy.

One of your legs over his shoulder, and the other one around his hip, pulling him closer as he kept on trusting into you. You tried your best to move with him, meeting his rapid movements, but you got lost in the pleasure when his finger flicked your clit. You almost scream reaching your climax for the nth time, your body shaking with the force of the release. Namjoon didn’t slow down though, instead picking up the pace as he chased his own orgasm.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he growled “Not gonna stop til’ I fill you up with my cum. That’s what you want, right angel? Want to be stuffed full? Have it dripping out of you when I’m done?” he rendered you a completely useless, weakly moaning back at his filth.

“God, if you’re not pregnant after this.” He groans in your neck, making you shiver again.

The moon was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the room. Engulfing him completely in a silvery haze, and you couldn’t help but admire the beautiful man on top on you. His closed eyes, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, his lips parted in pure ecstasy. You almost couldn’t believe this was your best friend, the person who knew you better than anyone else in the world.

Namjoon reaches his own climax, and you clenched around him, milking every last drop eagerly.

 He collapses on top of you, your bodies slick with sweat, yet you just lay there, wrapped in his arms as the night quietly carried on.

This was the new normal, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

After a little while, Namjoon pulls out, quickly grabbing a napkin from the nightstand to wipe away any excess cum before it stains your sheets. You winced at the touch, feeling sore in the best of ways.

“I’m sorry baby. I went a little hard.” He says after discarding the napkin, pulling you closer to him.

You lay there, spent and satisfied in his arms, a little chuckle escaping you at the absurdity of ‘little’ being the past four hours. “Rough day at work?” you ask, looking up, your fingers gently pushing the hair away from his forehead.

“You have no idea,” he huffs, glancing away “With the business trip coming up I can’t seem to catch a break.”

“You’re leaving on a trip?” you stand up straight, looking down at him, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

“Yeah baby, I told you I’m leaving on the 5th.” He replies, his voice twinged with exhaustion.

“That is this month?” You fumble out of the bed to grab your calendar from the desk, turning all the lights on and flipping through it.

Has it been two months already? How come you’re not pregnant already?

You quietly look over the pages, calculating exactly what day you should be getting your period on. And your heart raced when you realized;

Last week. This might be it. You might be pregnant already.

“Oh my god, Namjoon!” you giggle like a little girl, jumping and spinning around the room. “This might be it! I’m one week late!”

Namjoon’s eyes widened in surprise, and he grabs your arm, pulling you back on the bed. The calendar flying away somewhere as he places his hand on your still-flat belly.

“Really?”

You nodded, a big smile completely taking over your face

“Yeah really.” You giggle “I mean, can’t know for sure, but I’m one week late.” You insist, almost kicking your legs with excitement.

No way you were going back to sleep after this. Instead, you jump back up, running around the room like a little tornado, gabbing your clothes and rushing to the bathroom to shower.

You needed to schedule a doctor’s appointment, go buy the last of the supplies, pick a color for the nursery and look up all the forms needed for maternity leave.

Namjoon sat in the silence of your bedroom, listening to the water from the shower run as you chaotically prepare and plan your future. The thought leaves him feeling a little empty, knowing he is not a part of that plan.

He wanted to invite you to join him for the business trip in Singapore, the plane tickets bookmarked and ready to be purchased. Even if he’d be busy working, the thought of having you nearby calmed his nerves about the whole ordeal. But now he hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea. With everything getting more complicated- especially the possible pregnancy- his feelings were tangled between simply wanting to support you and grappling with the deeper emotions he couldn’t ignore.

“Do you think you can handle building a crib?” you ask when you return form the bathroom.

 But only silence greeted you, with no sign of Namjoon left behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life had this way about it. One moment you’re riding high, and the next one you’re struggling to comprehend the fragility of human nature.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, yet it still stings when your plan doesn’t perfectly match reality.

You plan a future with a man, only to be confronted with the painful truth that you’ve been the second woman all along. Shaking you to your core and ruining any future relationships for you along the way.

You take the leap, decide to get pregnant, and for a moment, it feels like everything is finally falling into place. But then that red dark spot appears, shattering all your dreams and hard work.

You didn’t need the pregnancy test anymore- not when your period arrives unexpectedly at the hospital office. Yet, you still find yourself staring at the little stick resting on your desk while Sumi draws a blood sample.

“Are you going to be okay?” She asks, pressing a sterile swab to your arm before continuing. Her voice is gentle, but you can only hear the concern beneath it. You nod, though uncertainty lingers in your mind, and the weight of your reality feels heavier than ever.

You spend the rest of the day meticulously reviewing the hospital’s schedules, throwing yourself in the comforting security that the numbers and graphs provide. You check supplies, organize the timetables, and ensure that no section of the hospital is backed up. Each task grounds you, allowing you to focus on something tangible amid the chaos swirling in your mind. 

At around noon you get the message from the testing facility. Deep down, you already knew the blood work would come back negative, just like the test stick, but it still shattered the last glimmer of hope you had left.

You read the message again, trying to process the words, but they blur together as a wave of disappointment washed over you. The sterile walls of the hospital suddenly feel suffocating, and the rhythm of the bustling environment seems to fade into the background.

You take a deep breath, fighting back tears. Great. Now you were hormonal too.

You force yourself to push through the day, focusing on tasks, but the ache in your chest still lingers.

Joon 🎍: Are we still on for tonight? Baby-momma 🐝: Nah. Got my period. Joon 🎍: Shit. Are you okay? Baby-momma 🐝: Shit pretty much sums it up. Baby-momma 🐝: But I’ll be fine. Joon 🎍: Well, it’s Sunday. We could just watch a movie…. Haven’t done that in a while. Joon 🎍: I’ll even pick up your favorite greasy foods if you agree.

You smile at your phone, feeling the warmth spread through you despite the heaviness of the day. The idea of sharing a cozy movie night with him feels like a welcomed escape. You type back quickly, your heart lifting just a bit.

Baby-momma 🐝: That sounds nice. I could use a distraction✨ Joon 🎍: Great. I’ll be over after work.

 When the working day is finally over, you make your way home, quickly going through the motions. You shower, tidy up a bit, and set up the living room for the movie night, arranging blankets and laying out an array of snacks across the coffee table.

Namjoon said he’s be there by 7, but as the clock ticks closer to 9, you find yourself bored out of your mind. You glance at your phone for any updates, but there’s nothing. You try to distract yourself with a show, but your mind keeps wandering to what could delay him.

Just as you consider sending a text, you hear the key turning in the lock. The door swings open, and Namjoon steps inside, a smile breaking across his face.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Got caught up in a meeting.” He says, holding the bag of junk food.

You feel a rush of relief as he walks in the familiar warmth of his presence instantly lifting your spirits. “You made it just in time.” You say, gesturing to the setup.

He chuckles, placing the bag on the coffee table.  “I got you one of those abominable triple chocolate cakes you like.” He settles in besides you, unpacking the bag and you can’t help but smile up at him.

“God, I love you.” You grin digging in, completely unaware to what effect your words have on him. He pauses for a moment, a hint of surprise flickering across his face, before returning your smile with a warmth that sends your heart racing.

As you both dig into the food, Namjoon seems a bit more pensive than usual, his smile lingering as he watches you blissfully enjoy the cake. You almost moan out loud after the first bite, your face surprisingly similar to the one you have when you reach your climax.

After a moment he clears his throat, looking away as a deep shade of red takes over his ears.

“Hey, I was thinking,” he begins, glancing at you with a hint of hesitation. “You know that I have that business trip coming up.”

“Yeah,” you’re barely paying him any attention.

“I’d really love for you to join me.”

Your head snaps up, surprise lighting up your features. “Wait, really? You want me to come?”

He meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Yeah, I think it would be great. I’ll be busy with meetings, but we can explore together in the evenings. It’ll be fun.”

You can’t help but smile, feeling a rush of excitement. “If I can get off work, sure. Just tell me when to book my tickets.”

Namjoon’s face lights up with relief and happiness. “Yeah, I’ll send you the details as soon as I can.”

You giggle, already daydreaming about the adventure ahead.

“Next week, no?”

“Yeah.” he replies, taking a big mouthful of his burger. You grin, excited at the thought that by that time you would also be done with your period.

“Ah! There’s a medical conference happening around that time too. It would be so cool if they aligned,” you say your excitement bubbling over.

Namjoon nods, his eyes lighting up. “That would be perfect! You could network while I’m in meetings.”

“Exactly! I’ll look into it!” you say, feeling the anticipation grow. The idea of a trip filled with both work and exploration feels like just the right remedy for your disappointment, reigniting a spark of hope.

The duality of man.

[brain-amoeba]

Test: The Mortician's Flame (Gregory House x F!Reader)

Hi friends :) I have been very busy this summer between a 6-wk course session, an internship, and banging out a couple sentences a week on my wips because of writers block. BUT, I (obviously) have gotten into House MD and let me just say I am definitely very normal about it and can be trusted with it. Anyway, I was listening to Acid Bath and the song title 'The Mortician's Flame' gave me an idea for a fic in which the reader is a mortician. Below is a little excerpt, partly because I want to see how you guys like it and because I am hitting a block and need some feedback for the direction I want it to take...so without further ado, enjoy:

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. It was a name you were quite familiar with, and found yourself frequenting. Considering your occupation, it did not exactly spell good news for the hospital, though…you were a mortician. If death did not follow you everywhere, then it was you who chased it. You tried medical school, tried working as an aid at various clinics of all kinds throughout your schooling. Despite your aptitude, you never quite clicked with the living patients. After years of frustration, imposter syndrome, and the death of a loved one, you were beckoned to your current profession. All of these thoughts left your brain swimming as you made your way through the lobby and towards the elevator. The sharp clacking of a certain cane snapped you out of your brooding.

"Oh, Dr. House…" You trailed off. An unusual clamminess came over you, and you found yourself wiping humid palms on your slacks. "I was just coming up to see you. I-" The ding of the elevator interrupted you, and he ushered you inside. " Y/N. I wasn't expecting a trip from the Grim Reaper so soon. Is it my time yet?" He asked, almost sardonically. Though you were used to his abrasive personality, his remarks still caught you off guard. "W-well, I don't live too far from here, and I got a phone call from my…boss…" You were dumbfounded completely--what the hell has gotten into you?! Normally, House's cold gaze did little to penetrate your psyche, but this time, that icicle was wedged completely between your eyes. "And? If you take any longer someone might actually die, and then you would have a legitimate reason to be here. But you don't, do you?" And there it was. Were you really surprised, though? If he could deduce a one in a million diagnosis and be correct on the regular, then him seeing right through your flimsy excuse was guaranteed. "I-!" There were millions of things you could say, but not even a single word could make it past your trembling lips. Saved by the bell again, the elevator opened with a ding and House led you out, towards his office.

[carefulignorantghost]

Masterlist

Smut - 🔥

Slight smut - 💋

Fluff - 🥰

Angst - 😣

Sad - 😭

- I Love You’s 🔥🥰

Your first boyfriend, Alex, spends the night while your parents are on holiday. You have a sex dream and wake up to find you were actually grinding against your boyfriend’s leg. You talk about your wet dreams of each other, and your fantasies. Both of you lose your virginity to each other. Quite sappy, a lot of consent questions, reassurance

- One Last Time 💋😣😭

You come home from work just to hear suspicious noises. Your fiancé, Alex, was cheating on you. You spent one more night together, knowing it would never be the same.

- His Inspiration 🔥

Alex comes home frustrated from his writer’s block. You have the idea to give him inspiration through sex.

- Sleepover (Prequel to “I Love You’s”) 🥰💋

Alex comes to your house to spend the night. You watch Twilight together and see each other naked for the first time. You shower together.

- I Hope You’re Happier Now (Sequel to “One Last Time”)😣😭

A series of conversations with Alex following the breakup.

- It’s the First Kiss, It’s Flawless, Really Something; It’s Fearless 🥰

Your best friend, and crush, Alex, invites you for dinner with his parents. Up in his bedroom, he tells you he likes you and you have your first kiss together.

- His Slut🔥

Dominant alex turner. Fetus era, 2005-2006. Pure smut.

-Breaking Dishes When You’re Disappointed😣😭

You come home late and (eycte era) Alex is drunk. He gets very angry and you are scared.

-We Meet Again😣😭

You realize you’re pregnant, but only after you and Alex have broken up. 6 years pass and you’re looking for a house cleaning job and Alex becomes your boss unknowingly.

-I’m a Puppet on a String🔥🥰

Alex confesses that he wants you to dominate him, so you do. Submissive humbug Al!!

-You’re a Vampire💋🥰

A mysterious man visits you at night, waking you up with his thoughts. You figure out you can read each other’s minds. You quickly find out the hard way that he’s a vampire. He visits you again and you get to know each other better.

[earthtooz]

WELL, SINCE YOU DONT MIND~

a scenario in which reader gets writers block and xiao appears and xiao professes his undying love for us and we kiss him and hold hands and share almond tofu under the stars and we get married is a very cute idea and 10/10 plot. definitely the best idea to ever be thought of

FLUFF, xiao being xiao, reader is poet, i've never played genshin ever, i got spammed with this so much that i decided to give up and give in. @sixosix, for you, my little sibling xx

"what are you doing here? it's late." 

the sudden voice shocks you from the leather-bound notebook that you were previously writing in, so caught off guard by the intrusion that your pencil slips from your grasp, falling through the cracks of wangshu inn’s balcony. you’re about to curse out your own inability when a sudden gust of wind swirls around you, followed by a flash of blue. 

then, a pencil is outstretched towards you- your pencil, in xiao’s hand. 

“thank you,” you murmur, stunned. 

“like i said, what are you doing here?” the adeptus repeats, demanding for an answer.

retracting your legs that were previously dangling over the edge and closing your notebook with a defeated slam, he notices the look of defeat that graces your expression as you look out at the horizon.

“i’m trying to find inspiration for a new poem,” you murmur. “although i wasn’t very successful, i thought coming up the wangshu inn might have inspired me. sorry for overstepping on your turf.”

glancing up and meeting his golden eyes, you ignore the heavy pounding of your heart and pressurising of your blood rate; two feats that only xiao was able to accomplish. 

unlike your internal meltdown, his hardened expression doesn’t change with your complaints, in fact, xiao doesn’t even acknowledge them, heartlessly brushing over your predicament. “you shouldn’t be out here for much longer though, once it’s night the plagues will be out, and it’ll be dangerous.”

“i know, i know. no need to remind me.”

a beat of silence passes. you don’t make a move to get up. xiao doesn’t make a move to kick you out. instead, he takes a seat beside you, keeping his distance. “i didn’t know you write,” he mutters, the slight tilt in his voice betraying the disinterest he previously showed towards your predicament.

momentarily surprised by his curiosity, you nervously fiddle with the binder of your book. “oh, it’s just for fun,” you murmur, glancing away. “something i do to take my mind off of things.” 

he doesn’t say anything in response, the flicking of delicate paper pages fill the atmosphere instead. you wish you could peer into his mind to see what he is thinking so that you could have the easy conversations that you share with other people. however, for xiao, the only thing to discuss is nothing.

glancing aside, the unfinished almond tofu that you bought from the merchants sit beside you. as much as you’d like to finish the delicacy, your constant frustration with your inability to conjure up words diminished your appetite. there is one solution, but you feel a little foolish asking, “would you like some almond tofu?” to the blue-haired beside you sits up a little.

“i shouldn’t,” he mutters dejectedly when looking at the platter you pass to him. “you have it.”

“i can’t finish it, that’s why i offered. why don’t you help me out by finishing it for me?” you slide it across to him. 

with obvious hesitance, he complies. you look away when he takes a bite, the sight too oddly intimate and rare for some poet like you. how rewarding it is to do something for someone like xiao.

it’s silent once again as you both watch the setting sun, the colours melting into one another whilst dusk’s purple dominates and claims its turn in the sky. it takes the first star to appear before you mention leaving, especially now that the cicin’s are beginning to emerge, but more importantly, you’re surprised that xiao hasn’t told you off.

declaring your departure, xiao mimics you and stands up, tightly holding onto his spear.

“i’ll walk you home.”

“no- it’s okay!” you squeak, surprised by his decision. his golden eyes flicker to you, almost in warning that you shouldn’t argue back because he’s already made up his mind. “i shouldn’t bother you from your duties. thank you though-”

“-you don’t live far. it won’t be too inconvenient. besides, walking you home and fighting off potential demons is still doing my job.” he walks away, but not before turning over his shoulder to reassure that “i’ll protect you.”

he leads you down the inn and walks in front of you whilst leading you home, outstretching a hand in front of you whenever he thinks you might need his assistance down particular staircases or hills. you know you shouldn’t touch him, but the urge is there, and incredibly overwhelming, especially with each subtle flex of his muscles that are illuminated by the moonlight.

(you wonder if he does this with anyone else. judging by the rumours and talk that surround him, his apathy, and uptight front, you wouldn’t think so, yet here you are, being protecting by the legendary and fleeting xiao.)

the night is disturbingly silent, as if the archons had decreed that no inconvenience shall bother the two of you in this moment, but the peace is far from unwelcomed.

when your home appears in your view, you turn to face him with a reluctant smile, a little sad to leave, but very grateful for his time nonetheless.

“thank you for walking me home, xiao. i really appreciate it,” you mutter into the quiet night. 

“don’t thank me. if you ever need me, just call my name and i’ll be there,” he promises. you don’t even get to say anything in response before he puts on his mask and teleports away, all done in the blink of an eye and leaving your mind in a hurricane of questions you want answered.

for a second, you wonder if he was ever there, but the fading blue particles tell you that he indeed was.

shutting your door with a quiet click, you sigh out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding before scrambling to your kitchen table, frantically opening your book to whatever blank page you could find. 

‘i’ll protect you’. 

you definitely need to take your mind off this evening. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[olderthannetfic]

Hi hi! I have a question and I apologise if it's impertinent but I really didn't have anyone else to ask. I'm new to ao3 and I'm still figuring out how it works. The problem is this- when I look up a character x reader, I'll see the tag included in many works that have oneshots but since it's a side character, more often than not the oneshot for the character hasn't been written and the tag has been there for months. Is it okay to do that or is it tagging something incorrectly? They say they'll write one eventually but they never do, y'know? To me it kind of feels like they're just trying to reach a wider audience but because of this I can't even filter tags and I have to manually search through the book to check if the character is included, especially when the chapters are titled only by numbers :')

Is it okay to tag things in advance like that?

--

Oh boy...

Wattpad refugees do tend to use AO3 "wrong", sometimes in ways that break the rules and sometimes just in ways I find annoying and against typical AO3 culture.

I'm assuming you are coming from Wattpad based on you calling a work or a fic a "book", which is a very, very Wattpad thing to do.

I'm assuming they are coming from Wattpad given the bad behavior you're describing and the fact that they're a x reader writer.

--

So, here's the thing, if you start writing a fic and there's any amount of the actual fic, even if it's pretty short and bad or in a weird format or whatever, it's still a valid fanwork. Most of the time, AO3 leaves it to the author to decide how to tag (aside from a very few things like death threats in the tags or failing to use the required archive warnings).

AO3 won't stop someone from tagging a future pairing that hasn't appeared yet.

--

But "books" of "oneshots" are such an obnoxious Wattpad thing. This is a completely stupid use of AO3 from the "Please send me prompts" part that is usually in there to the way that unrelated fics are smashed together.

It's not against the rules, but it's a crappy use of AO3 befitting of n00bs.

Sadly, old hands at AO3 also make shitty works that are unrelated stories mashed together. They're often a whole set of kinktober fics or something where the trope tags and the ship tags are accurate, but you can't tell which ones go with which ones without searching the whole fic.

We regularly complain about that on here.

--

A much better way to use AO3 is to make a series titled "My x Reader Oneshots" or "All of my kinktober fics" where each separate story is its own work with its own tags.

My assumption is that this person is using the inaccurate tag both to get more eyeballs on their existing work and because they probably take prompts for that ship or something. (I'm basing this on the kinds of things people say on their oneshot books on Wattpad. Maybe they don't actually take prompts since you haven't mentioned it.)

Some people just don't care that they're annoying others and messing up the tags, but I think some actually don't realize how AO3 filtering works and have no idea this behavior is a nuisance.

On a lot of sites, both Wattpad and algorithm-driven social media, unless a post/work is very popular, it disappears out of sight. Even an inaccurate tag doesn't do that much.

On AO3, one is getting a full list of everything with the tag, going back however far. It's a library catalogue for which you should use accurate data. But this writer is probably thinking of tags more as advertising and a way to get their name out there so readers can follow them pre-emptively. They mean to write the ship in the future, so it's not really inaccurate... (And, tbh, if it were a single work and the ship just hadn't appeared yet, I would agree with them even though those are frustrating too.)

--

So no, they should not do this.

But it's not actually against the rules.

I would mute the annoying people who do this.

[velvetvexations]

This is an edited version of something I posted to r/DaystromInstitute, a Star Trek sub. I'm proud of it and, having deleted my account, want to preserve it here.

Dukat is a fantastic example of Narcissitic Personality Disorder

I'm an individual with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. It's very, extremely frustrating to see people claim everyone from Dolores Umbridge to Donald Trump also have NPD because they're like, just the worst. NPD doesn't mean "selfish", or "controlling", or even "self-absorbed", and certainly is not a synonym for abusive, despite all the self-help books that say sniping a narcissist who came within eight hundred yards of you is legally permissible under Stand Your Ground laws.

You might expect me to not be so appreciative of Dukat, who is, after all, a pretty horrible person. I actually have a worse opinion of Dukat's supposed nobility than many, as fairly often the fandom prefers to back the idea that he really was a misguided anti-villain who only succumbed to devil-worshipping when the writers assassinated his character.

Well, unfortunately, it's harder to recognize authentic NPD traits in heroes, and "recognize" is a term I use loosely, since most writers certainly didn't have NPD in mind at all. Nonetheless, I love Dukat because he exemplifies a nuanced, if not overly flattering, portrayal of a personality disorder that actual human beings deal with, and 99% of the time is just flattened into a thing you call people you don't like.

As a child, one thing that did a lot to mitigate the more negative social aspects of NPD was having it imprinted on my brain by anime and video games that being a Hero and as good as possible was the best thing to be. While praise and attention in general does scratch a powerful itch too, once my child-self internalized the values of the media I consumed - helped along by also being autistic - the standard for which I judged myself was set. I would literally cry if I accidentally picked up dark side points in a Star Wars game.

I think Dukat went through a similar process. Not all narcissists cling to a model centering morality, but Dukat, for one reason or another, did. He sincerely believes everything he does is altruistic and fair, and more than that, he wants to be altruistic and fair, having misidentified the origin of his cravings.

Another thing that helped me a lot growing up was a book called The Screwtape Letters. If you're unfamiliar, it's by CS Lewis and is presented as a series of letters from a high-ranked demon to his nephew, who works as essentially a shoulder devil attempting to guide his patient into sin and disconnection from God. I feel like Lewis would probably be annoyed with me not getting anything properly Christian out of it, but it is an amazing manual for teaching you how to examine your own thinking and subconscious impulses. It started me down a path of being very self-aware, which made it easier to navigate NPD, because I'm incapable of tolerating the flaws in my internal logic that I'm able to catch. If I may be excused for saying so, I think I do a decent job on that count, with the downside that I'm often far too hyper-critical and it results in regular anxiety.

But Dukat never learned that skill. As a result, his attempted nobility clashes with his other competing impulses, and all his actions are reinforced, rather than rejected, by his conscious, which his NPD assures him is being followed to the letter. As Lewis said:

The baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity at some point may be sated; and since he dimly knows he is doing wrong he may possibly repent. But the Inquisitor who mistakes his own cruelty and lust of power and fear for the voice of Heaven will torment us infinitely more because he torments us with the approval of his own conscience and his better impulses appear to him as temptations.

Dukat's inner struggle is fueled by the need to be a revered benefactor while also having served at the head of the bastard offspring of the Iraq War and Holocaust. His solution at the time was to make it more like the Second Boer War, the conflict that originally popularized the term "concentration camp" despite the fact that those concentration camps weren't even meant to eliminate the thousands that were killed in them.

DUKAT: So in my first official act as Prefect, I ordered all labour camp commanders to reduce their output quotas by fifty percent. Then I reorganized the camps themselves. Child labour was abolished. Medical care was improved. Food rations were increased. At the end of one month of my administration, the death rate had dropped by twenty percent. Now how did the Bajorans react to all this? On my one month anniversary they blew up an orbital dry-dock, killing over two hundred Cardassian soldiers and workers. "KIRA": We didn't want a reconciliation. We wanted to destroy you. DUKAT: So I had to order a response. But even then it was a carefully tempered one. I ordered two hundred suspected members of the Resistance rounded up and executed. Two hundred lives for two hundred lives. That's justice, not malevolence. Justice.

Throughout the episode the Kira hallucination embodies the disrespected and ingratitude he feels he gets for being "nice". Cardassian values, attitudes, and objectives came first. Dukat, however, was smart enough to understand some of what was being done to Bajor was wrong, but not quite able to tear himself away from his own identity as a Cardassian and the protagonist of the universe. That was just too much to totally upend, as would be required to fully comprehend the reality of the situation.

So he tries, in his own way. Because he wants to be a good guy, the hero, the main character, and he truly believes that he is. Unfortunately, it remains pointed solidly in the direction of his own ego. He's unable to recognize that to err is Cardassian, but repentance divine, because he's already invested in so much. His identity as a Cardassian, his own past actions, his impulsive grabs for power, and being convinced he's such a good man shields him from thinking critically because it would necessarily mean criticizing himself. Dukat can only truly appreciate that he's made mistakes when it makes him feel like he's being the bigger man willing to compromise and graciously admit fault, but he was in charge of the Occupation for twenty years. It's hard to walk back from that.

And I should know, because even understanding I'm the one at fault, it's pulling teeth to force myself through accepting I did wrong, much less admitting it to someone else. I don't want to be someone who fucked up, no matter how minor. Pulling teeth. Quite a lot of NPD can be described that way, in fact. While half-brained wannabee psychologists present narcissists as being sociopathic manipulators who skillfully terrorize those around them, most of NPD is horrible, chest-thumping anxiety. It's not fun at all to want to break my controller in half every single time I get got in a game of Splatoon, even when the round is far from over.

Most Cardassians involved with the Occupation seemed to be either outright monsters or falling under the "banality of evil", like Damar. They considered the Bajorans as, at best, a bunch of backwards hicks who needed to shut up and listen to their betters. Dukat, though, fetishized Bajor and the Bajorans themselves, as quite creepily seen in his string of Bajoran lovers and his dogged pursuit of Kira throughout the show (which horrifically took Nana Visitor putting her foot down to keep from being canon!). He pursed his tenure as head of the Occupation with the zeal of someone who truly wanted his subjects to see he was doing all this for their own good.

The Dominion and most other Cardassians don't give a fuck if your subjects like you except insofar as it's convenient and makes them less likely to rebel. That's the Dominion's whole thing, they just want control, and if the carrot doesn't work they'll shrug and without a hint of emotion give you the stick. It doesn't matter to them how they're in charge as long as they are. When Dukat makes his point about having only executed two-hundred (suspected!) members of the Resistance, the Weyoun hallucination comments:

"WEYOUN": The Dominion would never have been so generous.

It's telling that Dukat is fixated on the contrast between him and the people he allied with enough for it to show up in his breakdown. Just a little before that, Dukat says:

DUKAT: Major Kira knows full well I made every effort to heal the wounds between Cardassia and Bajor. Since the very beginning it was my intention to rectify the mistakes of the past and begin a new chapter in our relations.

Dukat is capable of saying, vaguely, abstractly, "mistakes were made", but it infuriates and honestly baffles him that it's not enough for him to be recognized as the most brilliant and loving extraterrestrial patriarch the Bajorans could ever wish for. In an earlier episode, he has this conversation with (the real) Weyoun:

WEYOUN: If you ask me, the key to holding the Federation is Earth. If there's going to be an organized resistance against us, its birthplace will be there. DUKAT: You could be right. WEYOUN: Then our first step is be to eradicate its population. It's the only way. DUKAT: You can't do that. WEYOUN: Why not? DUKAT: Because! A true victory is to make your enemy see they were wrong to oppose you in the first place. To force them to acknowledge your greatness. WEYOUN: Then you kill them? DUKAT: Only if it's necessary. WEYOUN: I had no idea. DUKAT: Perhaps the biggest disappointment in my life is that the Bajoran people still refuse to appreciate how lucky they were to have me as their liberator. I protected them in so many ways, cared for them as if they were my own children. But to this day, is there a single statue of me on Bajor? WEYOUN: I would guess not. DUKAT: And you'd be right. Take Captain Sisko, an otherwise intelligent, perceptive man. Even he refuses to grant me the respect I deserve.

Weyoun ends the scene laughing at Dukat. Because he was just advocating they exterminate all life on Earth, and yet he's amazed, truly stunned by how crackers Dukat is. The sheer depths of Dukat's psychological need for validation is as clinically fascinating to Weyoun as it is to the audience.

As it is to me, anyway. Like Narcissus and his pool, I peer into Dukat and see myself. Unsurprisingly, he's one of my favorite characters.

[bonefall]

I’m not sure if you talked about it, but what do you think about A Thief in Thunderclan? I actually liked it, though it definitely had a few ehhh moments

Eh, honestly? Im kinda disappointed that James Barry had to go out on such a low note. I did not like it, it felt like a waste of time.

It wasn't like... offensively bad but I have very little good to say about it. It was fine. If you want to see more ThunderClan you can check it out?

(A lot of Thief in ThunderClan critique below the cut, I didn't like it much)

First of all, the mystery was just bad. I'm sorry. An owl? Swooping in at night for dead animals and leaving perfect scores in the dirt? It felt like a real "running out of ideas" type plot.

Brightheart was NOT fun to follow. She was uncomfortable for most of the story and secondhand embarassment is an emotion I really don't enjoy. Even moments that were supposed to be thought-provoking (like the Brambleclaw name confrontation) just felt like cringe because they were written so poorly.

Like, seriously? "Firestar why did you name Bramble after his father who disfigured me?" "Oh its because i uhhhh wanted to remind ppl of it so they would stop being reminded of it eventually" WHAT? That was a brainless enough choice when it was FIRST made, you can't fucking tell me any cat with a brain cell would go "wao... really makes you think... hngsociety"

I disliked the fact they decided to give Brightheart serious suspicion towards people like Longtail and Brambleclaw, I strongly disagree she would be like that. She feels so much to me like someone who would feel awful for doubting people she logically knows are innocent, and express to Cloudtail that it makes her feel like a bad person, but she CANT help it. She is such a kind, loving, and self doubting sort of cat... or, was, I guess? Or maybe it was never there at all and I'm the fool.

On that note? Her character arc was a mess. As much as I hate Shadow in RiverClan, I can say that Feathertail's arc was a competent *story*. Brightheart is having nightmares, suspects Bramble and Long of treason, is trying to figure out this mystery, trying to help train Rainpaw, the fact she resents not being his mentor is mentioned and dropped, she is pregnant... so much shit is going on and it feels absolutely unfocused.

And even worse, because it's overlapping with the beginning of Firestar's Quest, we end up having to Show Off The Continuity instead of telling a cohesive story. Oop Willowpelt died and Rainpaw is kind of sad about it! But wait we have to say bye to Firestar, make sure to squeeze in the Brambleclaw name confrontation before he goes! GO BACK Longtail has been blinded!! ALSO THE OWL! HERES WHY THE OWL WASNT MENTIONED IN FQ!!

And DUDE if there's anything that's a SERIOUS problem, it's Brightheart's stupid ass cutesy "look who's being USEFUL in here!" When blinded Longtail is helping out in the medcat den

First of all fuck you for the wording of that line! Second of all, GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD that disabled people shouldn't have to find a way to be "useful" to belong to their society.

The fact we're getting a book from Bright's perspective as a disabled person and the whole thing is chock full of "useful" language as she struggles with PTSD makes the fact this is COMMON in WC sting so much more.

Anyway back to just, normal critique and not frustration with ableism in wc.

I feel like they really wasted Brightheart's family. I enjoyed finally getting Cinder and Bright hanging out as sisters, but we got a MENTION of Frostfur, and barely anything with her brothers. It's already a mess so why not go the whole way?

Ashfur also has his post-TBC personality retcon which absolutely kills me. Why do we need this shitty "foreshadowing"? Why do we need him to have been so obviously controlling and argumentative? Why are these writers fucking allergic to having a villain that people thought was nice and normal once?

NITPICK: if i have to see another cat gently picked up by a large bird of prey without at LEAST getting a cracked rib I will shapeshift into 10,000 crows and fly away forever

I have some good feelings towards it though, and I have to be clear, this is actually Ambivalent Bones. I'm only mad at the "Usefulness" rhetoric, the rest is just my normal amount of whinging lmao.

I do really like Cinderpelt and Brightheart finally getting some interactions. It's long overdo lmao

I like Cloudtail and Brightheart as a ship so it's nice to see them hang out.

Uhhh this is a bit of a backhanded compliment but I liked how she was upset at not getting one of Whitestorm's children to mentor? I don't like how it bodes for the wider narrative though, because we know this ends in her getting shafted FOR YEARS and unable to get an apprentice. But I liked the plot setup of her having resentment for Cloudtail because of this. I thought that would make a really good plot point for putting a wedge between them to work through. Like, stop being cowards, LEAN INTO Firestar making some very serious, insulting, short-sighted mistakes, and it interfering with Brightheart's ability to heal. Kill your darling.

There were some nice lines. I do remember Ashfur's lame "greedyclaw" insult, which was funny.

I enjoyed the cute moments between the cats in ThunderClan. Ferncloud chasing after her kids, Brightheart convincing people to help her investigate, the Willowkin being upset about their mom. It's a mess but there's some nice stuff in that mess, y'know?

Overall, my memory hasn't been kind to it. I think I was giving it a 6/10 when I first saw it, but it's dropped down to a low 5/10. Not (very) offensive but too messy and pointless to revisit.

[olis-inkwell-symposium]

Unapologetically Messy: The Process Behind a Creative Mind

Some words of encourage I had to write out during my lunch break at work today; for my fellow writers 🫶🏾

Let’s not pretend that writing is some serene, candle-lit experience where the words just flow effortlessly. It’s not. Writing is messy.

Frustrating at the very best times. To continue with more: chaotic, it’s unpredictable, and if we’re being honest, mine is mostly fueled by insomnia and last-minute panic.

Forget the cheesy Instagram-worthy images of perfect notebooks and tranquil mornings with a laptop by the window—that’s the fantasy.

The reality is far more complex and unapologetically messy.

Creativity Doesn’t Follow Rules

We like to think there’s a formula for creativity. Sit down at a certain time, write for a certain number of hours, and voilà, you’ve got yourself a novel. But creativity doesn’t follow rules, and it definitely doesn’t give a damn about your carefully planned schedule.

One of the most freeing realizations for any creative is understanding that the process isn’t supposed to be linear. It’s not a straight path from point A to point B. It’s more like a series of tangled threads, with detours, dead ends, and plenty of wrong turns. And that’s okay. In fact, that’s where the real magic happens.

The best ideas often come when you least expect them—during a 3 a.m. insomnia-fueled brainstorming session, or while you’re out doing something completely unrelated to writing.

You can’t force creativity into a neat little box. It’s messy by nature, and the more you lean into that, the more you’ll realize that the chaos is part of what makes it all work.

The Ugly Side of Writing

Let’s talk about the ugly parts of writing that no one likes to admit. The moments when you reread your draft and wonder who the hell wrote it because it sure doesn’t sound like the brilliant idea you had in your head.

Or the days when you spend hours editing a single paragraph, only to decide it’s still not good enough. Writing is hard—and sometimes it feels downright impossible…

But those ugly moments? They’re part of the process. No writer escapes them.

We all have drafts that make us cringe, scenes that feel flat, or characters who refuse to behave the way we envisioned them. The key is to keep going, even when it feels like everything is falling apart.

You don’t get to the good stuff without wading through the muck first. The messy, imperfect draft is the foundation on which you’ll build something better.

So, embrace it. Embrace the chaos, the frustration, and the uncertainty, because that’s what writing is really about—working through the mess to find the magic on the other side.

The Pressure of Perfectionism

Perfectionism is my unique creativity killer. It’s that voice in your head that says, “This isn’t good enough,” or “You’ll never get this right.” My personal favorite that I repeat to myself all the time, “Who’s gonna even care enough to read all of this?”

It’s the reason so many writers stare at the blank page for hours, paralyzed by the fear of writing something that isn’t perfect. One of the things that sabotages me to this day, I’d rather write these words of encouragement vs. tackling my wips… But here’s the truth: your first draft doesn’t have to be perfect. It will never be perfect! I had to learn to just let my ideas pour out of me in whatever fashion necessary.

Taking a break and coming back to read it over again it’s easier for me to refine and organize my ideas into one cohesive plot.

The whole point of a first draft is to get the ideas down, to lay the groundwork. It’s going to be messy. It’s going to have plot holes, awkward sentences, and scenes that don’t quite work. That’s normal. That’s what a first draft is supposed to be.

The real work happens in the revision process, when you can take that messy draft and start shaping it into something better. But you can’t revise a blank page. You have to be willing to let yourself write badly, to make mistakes, and to trust that the process will lead you to where you need to go.

Finding Your Flow in the Chaos

For a lot of writers, for me personally anyway, there’s this constant push and pull between wanting structure and needing freedom.

We want the discipline to sit down and write every day, but we also crave the space to let our ideas flow naturally. Finding a balance between the two is tricky, and honestly, it’s different for everyone.

Some days, structure is what saves you. You sit down at the same time, with the same routine, and it works.

Other days, you need to follow the chaos, write when the mood strikes, and let the process be as unpredictable as it wants to be. Neither way is wrong—it’s about finding what works for you in the moment.

The key is to let go of the pressure to have it all figured out. Your process doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. It doesn’t even have to look the same every day. What matters is that you keep showing up, keep writing, and keep trusting that the mess is part of the journey.

Embrace the Mess

So, here’s the takeaway: the creative process is messy. It’s full of ups and downs, false starts, and moments of self-doubt. But it’s also full of discovery, unexpected breakthroughs, and moments of pure magic.

The mess isn’t something to be ashamed of—it’s something to embrace.

You don’t have to have it all figured out. You don’t have to follow a strict routine, or write neatly within the lines.

Let the process be what it is—unpredictable, chaotic, and unapologetically messy. Because that’s where the real creativity lives.

oli’s symposium taglist 🫵🏾 you know you wanna join. let me know!

@slenders1ckn3ss @lucistarsfire @mai2themai @fond-illusion @p00lverinecentral

[stomach-bugg09]

hiii,i saw that requests ante open and was wondering if we can get a fali fic? 🫢 I don’t really mind/have a preference for what it’s about but maybe angst with some fluff at the end??? idek you’re the writer so you can choose, that’s basically it, and btw your fics are lush!! i love themm

thankyouuu <3

a/n: okay, hey !! took me a lil bit to ponder this idea and what would be the best approach , but i think this suits it with a lil bit of angst and then some comforting fluff. thanks so much for the kind words !! please, please, please comment feedback + reblog ( everything's easier when you have the motivation of your readers )

summary: fali is recovering from the bullet he took to save neteyam, but he's never been very patient.

tags: @rafeslovergirl @wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @theycallmesia @grierpilots @23victoria @nyotamalfoy @gcldtom

healing is hard

after eighteen years of existing, fali was never once considered patient. even when young, his mother could recall the numerous times where she scolded the poor na’vi for not waiting for her or his father before he dove right into the reef. she could also recall the way her heartbeat would flare when he let out a mischievous feat of laughter followed by a loud splash.

she had to say, though, that she would much prefer those small spikes of fear over the moment in which she witnessed tsireya speeding back atop her ilu, a limp body draped in front of her. 

vi’ieo and fpai had just been discussing the whereabouts of their son in concerned, hushed tones when they heard the olo’eyktan’s daughter yell, “help! it is fali!”

nothing could prepare either parent for the rush of nausea and dread that flooded their bodies at those four words; if they weren’t thankful for ronal beforehand, they owed their lives to her. no mother wants to experience the unforgiving event that it the loss of a child.

not again, at least. not after they lost what was supposed to be their first baby girl just before she was born. 

but now… now fali was okay. or, getting to it, at least. he was alive, and he was healed, but he still hurt. every movement he made, everytime he attempted to go through with tasks that he used to consider as easy if not daily.

he couldn’t even walk to the edge of the shore and back without help from someone else.

after being raised the only child of his parents and the supposed older brother to tsireya and ao’nung ( and then eventually rotxo ), fali picked up so many subconscious habits. he was reliable, he was independent, he was strong. now he was reliant, dependent, weak. he didn’t feel like fali te auahi fpai’itan.

everybody around the healing na’vi felt his frustration. they felt this sadness, his mourning of who he used to be. they felt the anger that surged through his body at the limited movement his left arm and leg now possessed after the bullet just barely impacted his spine enough to cause mobility issues.

it hurt. it hurt him, it hurt them, it hurt everyone.

and fpai and vi’ieo also missed the child he used to be. the child he was before he grew up, the child he was before he became the warrior, the child he was before they let war touch him. before they let war hurt him. but, they would forever be grateful for his mere survival above all else.

while fali saw their perspective, while he recognized the blessing that was his life, he was so sick of it. he was so sick of being thankful, of being gracious for eywa. he wanted his life back! he wanted his arm and leg back! for all he knew, fali would never even see battle again — he would never see the thing that he spent his entire childhood training for.

an impressive warrior whose skills were wasted on an avatar’s stupid bullet.

while everyone else tried to push a positive perspective onto the angry and healing na’vi, [y/n] knew better. she knew that wasn’t an option — not based on his personality, at least.

was she happy he was still alive? well, of course! in fact, she often jumped awake in the middle of the night and pressed a hand to his chest from where she slept right next to him, checking that he was still breathing. checking that he was still there.

but, [y/n] could never expect him to share the same exact outlook that she did, and she could never pretend to understand what he was struggling with. that would just be a lie, and she could never lie to him. not to her love.

so, instead of trying to get him to rest every time he stood up, instead of stopping him before he limped out of the marui, she gave him a soft smile and a nod. and then, of course, a wink followed by words meant only to push buttons ( which would hopefully only motivate him to success ), “scream if you need anything.”

he would roll his eyes, waddle out, and after about five minutes, [y/n] would be outside the marui. her eyes would be caught on his figure in the distance, oftentimes leaned up against a tree or paused while trying to catch his breath.

sometimes, although her heart shattered the most during these moments, he would be paused with his makeshift cane in hand, back hunched as sobs echoed through the breeze.

but [y/n] knew better than to barge in. she knew that, as much as every part of her body and soul itched to go and help him — to insist that it would be okay — it was only up to fali to decide whether or not that would be true.

it was only once, though, that [y/n] came running to him.

he’d been walking, small grunts of frustration heard all the way from where [y/n] stood. her gaze was soft against his back full of tattoos, scars, and muscles that she knew all too well.

and then, in a split second, everything broke.

the na’vi before her let out a yell of fury before throwing his cane into the sand, knees shaking as he fell onto them. the soft, wet sand was imprinted with his weight, allowing him to dip an inch shorter. 

[y/n] feet started moving before her mind did, practically running down the wooden docks and through the sand. the squishy substance tickled between her toes at each new step, until eventually she strut right past the tearful na’vi and grabbed his cane.

she spun around on her heel, looking him right in the eye, and she extended her arm towards him. the long piece of drift wood he’d adapted to be his mobile assistant faced him in an offering.

but, just as fali reached up and attempted to take it from [y/n]’s hand, she pulled it away and threw it about ten feet to her right.

stunned, fali blinked at her. “[y/n],” he gasped, shocked. “what are you —”

“get up.”

[y/n] voice was solid, firm. authoritative. all of sudden, fali couldn’t take his glassy eyes away from her, jaw dropped in complete shock due to her attitude. what was she up to? “[y/n],” he tried again, voice soft and shallow due to the sobs that sat at the base of his throat.

she merely shook her head at her healing lover. “no,” she refused. “no, you’re going to get up.”

“i —” he paused, checking his words carefully. “[y/n], what are you doing?”

[y/n] locked his eyes, not once making an effort to assist him in any form. “i’m telling you to get up. get on your feet and walk.”

once more, fali opened his mouth, but this time… this time it shut in a pregnant bubble of silence. instead of arguing any more than he already had, he placed two hands on the ground and attempted to push upwards.

and then, just like that, fali was back in his own head. not once did he realize, as he pushed himself over the edge, that he wasn’t alone, and yet… for the first time ever since he started leaving every afternoon to try and make progress… he was finally able to do it.

by himself.

but he wasn’t by himself. [y/n] was there right next to him, words of encouragement flooding from her lips with every noise of desperation or anguish. everytime he even made a signal of falling back down, more words spilling right into his ears.

and soon, before he even knew it, he was standing. by himself.

and his arms were wrapped around the familiar body of [y/n]. the same warmth he adored every night. the same build that made him feel safe. the same na’vi that made him rethink every part of his life.

he could have never made it without her. anywhere. not just to a new point in his recovery, but he couldn’t have made it to the person he considered himself to be then.

fali without [y/n] would be the same arrogant na’vi that pushed ao’nung’s buttons. the same na’vi that made dumb decisions. the same na’vi who prided himself only on his abilities on the battlefield.

with [y/n], he finally realized there was so much more to himself than he ever knew or knew to recognize.

he pressed his face into [y/n]’s hair, the soft strands soaking up his salty tears of joy. his shoulder shook every so slightly, and fali could feel [y/n]’s own trembling body.

it’d been so difficult.

“i’ve been wanting to help, you know,” [y/n] sniffed into his chest. “i just knew it wouldn’t have helped. the last thing i wanted to do was make things more difficult.”

fali swallowed. “i know, yawne, i know.” his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. he couldn’t manage to summon anything louder, for he was world this beauty of a reality would disintegrate into a dream.

“but,” she continued softly. “i also knew you needed to be open to help. help from me, help from your parents, help from everyone. you can’t do everything alone.”

fali paused, silence overcoming them as he thought. she was right, of course, but he hated that idea. he was already vulnerable with his injuries. the last thing he wanted was pity from anyone else.

“i just…” he trailed. “i’m scared.”

[y/n]’s heart broke, her breath hitching in her throat at the big confession. “that’s okay.” she looked upwards, eyes locking between the two. “it’s okay to be scared.”

“what if i don’t get better?” he admitted, tears creating shiny streaks against his blue cheeks. “what if this is it? what if i can’t fight anymore?”

and then, as shocking as  it was to fali, a laugh bubbled from [y/n]’s throat. he gave her a quizzical look and asked, “what’s funny?”

“well, it’d be fine by me, is all,” she admitted, a smile resting on her lips. “i like it better when i know you're safe and not at war.”

he couldn’t help but feel a smile rise to his own mouth as well. “well, you’d still be fighting.”

she gave him a look that read duh before continuing. “plus, if you do learn to lead the village from the interior… you could be at home.” she paused, shrugging. “if we ever wanted a family and all.”

fali paused, looking into her eyes deeply. suddenly, all he could feel was his stupid grin. “and you couldn’t stay home and care for the kids?” “we’d get a babysitter.”

fali let out a loud laugh, leaning his head down and kissing her square on the lips. “maybe eywa made a good decision.”

[tippenfunkaport]

Bow's Character Arc

There was a discussion on Twitter from people who were confused about Bow’s character arc and whether he had one (he very much does, and it’s actually one of the clearest / most spelled out in the entire show!). To help anyone experiencing that confusion and because it’s never a bad idea to understand how character arcs work if you want to be a writer/storyteller, I might as well break Bow’s character arc down for anyone who might find it helpful.

Buckle in, it's nerd time!

At the most basic, a character arc is a change (usually growth) a character goes through over the course of a story. Usually good (positive change arc) but sometimes bad (negative change arc). It’s very often a reversal aka the character is often in the exact opposite state by the end of the story than how they start it out. It can be trickier to follow in an ensemble story like SPOP because there are a lot of characters with parallel story lines going on and multiple arcs colliding in different ways, but She-Ra does a really good job of giving each of the four leads arcs (with Catradora as the main leads, Glimbow as the secondary) near equal time.

Yes, including Bow.

What I think throws people about Bow’s arc is it’s based on hypocrisy.

Meaning…

He encourages his friends to talk it out and share their feelings… while hiding his own feelings from his dads and repressing his frustrations with having to be the middle man between Adora and Glimmer (Season 4)

He declares that average people (such as the kitchen staff at Dryl) don’t need the princesses and are just as capable of fighting the Horde themselves… while he believes himself and his abilities inferior to Princess Entrapta’s

He reminds the others (esp Adora) about the need to accept help… while refusing any help for himself (think about “Don't worry about me. I'm the one who worries about you. Can we go back to that? Please?” in Pulse through to that moment when he agrees to let Glimmer take him to check on his dads in Return to the Fright Zone and literally leans on her)

I think a funny way to sum up his character issue is: Not me, though.

This arc progresses across all five season as he gradually changes. He starts the series out repressing his feelings from both his family and friends while doubting his abilities and refusing to ask for help (he IS Adora’s mirror, after all!). Over the course of the series he learns to express his feelings instead of bottling them up (The Beacon > Reunion > really all of Season 4 but it comes to head starting with Boys Night Out through Beast Island > Stranded), gains more confidence in his tech skills (The Frozen Forest > Signals > Flutterina > Mer-Mysteries > Corridors), and starts to learn to ask for help (The Beacon > Pulse > Return to the Fright Zone).

Which of course all culminates in The Heart Parts 1 and 2 where he finally wraps up all threads at once by

a) asking Scorpia to trust him (putting faith in someone else to help)

b) completing Entrapta’s program to unchip everyone (proving he IS as good a scientist as she is)

c) giving the speech to everyone on Etheria rousing the common people to fight Prime (average people can make a difference… which he now fully believes that includes him).

And while you can make the argument that confessing to Glimmer is part of his arc to share his feelings, the fact is that he completes a full character arc without ever behind reduced to just someone’s love interest because none of his character growth is tied to his romantic relationship at all (which was what the original tweet claimed). It's all his inner journey to have faith in himself and his abilities and how they relate to his friends and loved ones.

And thus the guy who starts the series as “only one around here who’s not a princess” with doubt in his tech abilities ends the series as confident Tech Master and future King of the regular people he sought to inspire, which is about as textbook a reversal as you can get.

Does it come out of nowhere?

His character arc progresses and takes significant focus in the following episodes….

S1:E6 System Failure

S1:E10 The Beacon

S2:E1 The Frozen Forest

S2:E3 Signals

S2:E7 Reunion

S4:E3 Flutterina

S4:E4 Pulse

S4:E7 Mer-Mysteries

S4:E8 Boys Night Out

S4:E10 Fractures

S4:E11 Beast Island

S5:E3 Corridors

S5:E4 Stranded

S5:E9 An Ill Wind

S5:E10 Return to the Fright Zone

S5:E12 Heart Part 1

S5:E13 Heart Part 2

That’s 17 episodes out of 52 which means his character development gets approximately 32% of the focus of the entire show… which for an ensemble cast like this where he’s one of four leads is just about dead on as it's over a quarter of the episodes.

That's a significant chunk of screentime with multiple episodes devoted specifically to his character journey.

Is his journey as flashy and action sequence-y as what Adora, Catra and Glimmer get? No, but it's a) a show marketed to girls so it makes sense they get the more cinematic scenes and b) his arc is more emotional and thus didn't need to hinge on big action like theirs did. Though considering the culmination of his arc is him as a 100 foot tall hologram speaking to the entire planet, I personally feel like that was pretty hard to miss.

If you look at all of this and still want to say that Bow did nothing or had no character arc, I think the thing to ask yourself is: why is it so important to you to discount the accomplishments and character growth of this character specifically?

In conclusion, this is the face Bow makes when he spent five season growing, changing and kicking butt as Tech Master and Voice of Reason and you say he did "literally nothing"...

[pippin-katz]

FirstPrince Author AU

I mulled it over and decided that I could post at least a little bit of what I have from the first draft I did last semester. Let me know what your thoughts are, and if you're interested in reading more!

Untitled WIP

Alex lets out another frustrated sigh as he reads through yet another fan analysis that completely missed the point. With an eyeroll, he stretches his hands and starts typing rapidly. It's moments like these that he despises his favorite author.

H. Fox is the author of several successful fiction novels, and most recently, a fantasy series, the third installment of which was just released earlier that week. Alex is a picky reader, but there's something about Fox's work that draws him in like a moth to a flame. The passages are skillfully and elegantly strung together to create stories that make it nearly impossible for him to put the book down once he starts reading. He has multiple copies of each book, one that he keeps in pristine condition, and the other that he's filled with scribbles, highlights, post-it notes, and other markings denoting moments that stand out to him, sentences that spark a strong feeling in his chest, and subtext of underlying themes and analogies Fox carefully crafts in. Alex would be thrilled to meet the author, for the chance to ask them questions about parallels he's found, and what their inspiration was for their stories and characters.

The problem is that no one knows who they are.

H. Fox is an anonymous writer. They are faceless, an unseen genius that provides nothing but a few facts about themselves in their bio at the end of each book. All Alex and the rest of their readers know is that they love dogs and have a passion for the poetry of Lord Byron. Fox never does press. They never offer pictures or even descriptions of what they look like. It's a point of constant debate and speculation within the community of readers.

What gender do they identify as? Where are they from? How old are they?

All very simple questions with no answers. Some are positive Fox is a man, while most others are adamantly opposed to the idea. The majority of the readers who had been following the author are almost positive they are from a country where English is the primary spoken language, but certain word choices and phrases generate doubt around which. The age range they are believed to fall into is twenties to thirties, but there is no way to know any of these things for certain, since they are essentially a phantom.

And that is part of Alex's problem at the moment.

[mrslittletall]

fic writer self-recs

tagged by: @misskriemhilds (thank you and sorry for taking forever to do this)

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Alright, without further ado, let's begin:

A Storm is coming (Dark Souls) This fic came to be because I was stuck with another fic of mine and frustrated and was like "Okay, but what would happen if Ornstein followed around the Chosen Undead during the second half of the game?!" I wrote the first chapter and added chapters whenever I felt like it and then this thing had over 40 kudos despite them not having gone on the adventure yet and I was like "??? Where did'ya all come from???" And then I started to put effort into this fic. My Chosen Undead, Tempest, grew into a proper OC. The story became a clear structure and outline. And the relationship between the two grew into a slowburn mutual pining romance. That is my most popular Dark Souls fic and I consider it my Magnum Opus as a writer. I sometimes write these two still for one-shots and they always always are so easy to write. They feel like a part of me now. Thanks so much to everyone who gave this fic a chance and stayed with it. Thank you so much.

Keeping it together (Dark Souls)

This is the fic I was stuck on and why I started to write Storm. It is basically about Ornstein dealing with Artorias' death. Horribly. I had a hard time myself during writing this, living through burnout. The year 2019 was my year to heal from everything and I made good effort but then... well, you know what happened in 2020... Anyway, I struggled a lot with this fic, but I think the last chapter of this is the best chapter I have written in my whole writing career. And it only happened because I took a deep breath and then suddenly everything was clear and I knew what I had to do. Off Balance (Hollow Knight)

Ah, another case of "I am writing this on a whim." This fic came to be because of some art of teenage Hollow and I was like "Oh, I want to make fic to this art". I first thought it might be a one-shot but I got ideas and continued and then it turned into a full fix-it and PK redemption arc. You can see in this fic how it grows and the characters with it. You can see how I make WL from sad mother to the queen she is, how PK grows into the role as a father but never stops struggling and how Hollow turns from the Pure Vessel into a child that enjoys life. This fic was extremely well received and I regurlarly receive kudos on it. I am coming back to this universe, I promise. It was just... after 2022, my life turned into hell. Hollow, Pendry, Rydellia, you are waiting for me, right?

Frenzy (Bloodborne)

Is that one of my best works? Honestly, it isn't, I really need to rewrite parts of it. But it is very dear to me. The idea was "What if Laurence got too close the Amydgala and turned into a catatonic state as result?" It was an exploration of the Frenzy status. Mostly from the caretaker POV of Ludwig and a little bit of Laurence (because he is not really there most of the time in the fic). I did quite some research on the topic but I vomited out this fic in a week (YES, REALLY), so it is pretty rough around the edges. Ranni and the horrible, annoying, obnoxious Tarnished (Elden Ring) I got this idea after the Mini Ranni quest in Elden Ring. I was like "Wow, she needs someone that shuts her up." And then I though "Hm, I need a Tarnished who can annoy her to no end." And who was grinning at me?! My version of Laurence (Bloodborne), who can be a horrible annoying obnoxious asshole! So I made an Elden Ring version of him and wrote him into this story. And it WORKED! This fic actually got quite some numbers. I guess I am not the only one who wanted to annoy Ranni xD Alright, let's see how many fic writers I can think of tagging... @within-its-cave @ruthlesslistener @deluxinn @redsixwing Go on, give your fics some love!

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

re the “can’t wait to see what you write next” comments, i commented that on a fic bc i also follow you here and you’ve talked about the halloween fics you’re working on, i meant to express excitement about those as well as what you’ve already written. sorry if it’s annoying!

Hello dear, your excitement isn't annoying! I love that people are excited, and that they express it.

My frustration was directed at people who were commenting on one of my very recent fics, who made it clear they were new to my writing and the fic they were commenting on is the first they've read, and they want to see what I put out next.

I'll get a little more specific than I did in my post:

I've had a flood of new readers in the last few months who have come to one fic or another from a recommendation on TikTok or Twitter. They read that one fic, and no other fic. They then say they want to see something new from me. I know all this because they tell me so (where they come from/how they found the fic, that this is the first/only fic of mine, etc).

I try to be kind and patient because I appreciate people reading any of my works, and I don't want to police readers and make them feel they owe me or tell anyone how to comment or set rules or something. But it does get frustrating that these people waited for the algorithm on their other app to present my fic to them, and then don't make any effort to check out any of my other work before making requests or asking for more. Ao3 is an archive, it won't feed you anything, and it honestly makes me scared for people and the future that these readers seem incapable of just clicking my name to look through my fic.

I will say that this is also why commenting on an author's fics are important - I've found out people are recommending my fics all over the place and not a single one of them has told me they liked it to my face. Someone could be a long time reader and I'd have no idea.

(I understand leaving comments can be nervewracking! It's just frustrating to me that people will find the words to talk so kindly about my fic but only where I can't see it.)

I'd also like to say I've seen an uptick in people apologizing for reading older fics of mine? Do you guys also apologize for reading Lord of the Rings (published in the 1950s) or Dracula (published 1897) or The Hunger Games (published 2008)? Fics are like books in that they are meant to be read and enjoyed at any time. You are never "late" to a fic and it's not weird, cringe, or upsetting to read older fics, and if that's the reason you're not reading my older work, get over yourself and go forth, read whatever you damn well please! I read some great smut from 2007 the other day. Had a fun time.

Anyway, that's what I'm talking about in this post. It's a very specific, "a meme is dead in a week," art-is-"content," algorithm-driven mindset and it's deeply concerning to me. Not for myself as a writer, although the experience is frustrating and disheartening, but for the minds of humanity.

I'm very glad you're excited for my Halloween fics and that you enjoy my work dear, thank you. I hope when I post them that they live up to expectations. ❤️

[rise-my-angel]

Please don’t write less smut if you don’t to! You know, these people who say that your series is just Jon porn are wrong. I think you write Jon as a character very good! And they just can go off your page if they believe that. It’s not your problem! Many of your followers (including me) are loving the way you write. Don’t let that bring you down!

And please don’t say you are not a good writer, you are! If you weren’t we wouldn’t have followed you. Don’t be so negative when someone tells you, that you’re good at writing. I hope things will get normal again on this blog soon. But it’s not your fault that is that way right now..

Much love <3

I'm sorry my blog is so frustrating right now, I really wish I had it together to make it more pleasent for all of you and I feel bad putting everyone through my problems like this. I have some smut coming up that I'm now not sure if I should keep in, or maybe delete or save as unpublished scenes, because I tried exploring new ideas coming up and now I'm worried it just is going to come off as bad porn.

It was never my intention, I use smut to portray emotional character development between two not talkative characters, but if it doesn't make up for the porn like aspect of it, it might not be worth it.

I don't know. My writing as a whole seems to be an issue, but it feels like my readers are very divided on if they like the smut as I've been doing it, or if I should tone it down or stop including it entierly and I don't know what the middle between them is or if that would even solve the problem.

[denimbex1986]

'While filming All of Us Strangers in his childhood home outside of London, Andrew Haigh began to see ghosts. “I hadn’t been in that house since I was seven or eight, so it was like going into a haunted house,” he recalled. “It was really, really unusual.”

The writer-director, who sat down with Geek Vibes Nation following the film’s New York premiere, had adapted a 1987 Japanese horror novel into a loosely autobiographical story about a shut-in screenwriter (a devastating, recently Golden Globe-nominated Andrew Scott) who, upon revisiting the home in which he grew up, reencounters the spirits of his long-dead parents (Claire Foy and Jamie Bell). It only made sense, then, for Haigh to have the film reflect his own coming-of-age.

“It felt like the ghosts of my life were in the house telling the story of the film.”

Despite the film being drastically different than its source material, “Strangers” by Taichi Yamada, they’re both effectively ghost stories. However, Haigh’s choice to never apply external logic allows for his ghosts to better serve the lead character.

“There are lots of holes in any ghost story,” he says, chuckling. “‘Are they actually living in the house? Is someone else living in the house? Is he going into the house? Is he not going into the house? Is it all in his mind?’ I think you have to abandon logic to some extent…we are going into [the main character’s] mind, his subconscious. I decided to look at the whole film, really, as a manifestation of his emotional state.”

Through multiple beautifully-penned conversations, Scott’s character comes to terms with his parents’ untimely death as one of the year’s best films unravels its yearning yarn. Read more about Haigh’s process in our full conversation with him below, edited for length and clarity.

This film is based on a Japanese novel, specifically a ghost story. You approached it from a more humanistic place and adapted it very autobiographically and yet, in a strange way, it still feels like a ghost story in the same way as the original novel. What piqued your interest about taking this very surreal novel and placing your own experiences into it?

It’s really interesting when you start thinking about doing a ghost story. The novel is a very traditional ghost story and I liked it for that, but when I was trying to work out how to put myself into the story, I had to ask, “What do ghosts mean to me and what do they mean in British culture?” Because they mean something very different in Japanese culture than they do necessarily in British culture. To me, ghosts felt like what haunts us as adults, what we drag around with us. They’re always there, lurking under the surface, standing behind you in the shadows. I decided that I was going to ground [the movie] much more in a metaphysical space, rather than do it as a more naturalistic story that then ended up having ghosts in it. So much of the adaptation became about trying to navigate that tone and working out if people were going to be frustrated because there’s definitely different rules that you have with ghost stories as a logic, but I ignore that logic at times and then look into it at other times. In the end, I was like, “F**k it. I’m just going to play around with what I think is emotionally interesting and hope that the audience comes along for the ride.”

That makes me think of a very interesting choice that you make in this film. When the main character, played by Andrew Scott, encounters his parents initially, it feels like maybe a time travel thing. In reality, they’re just specters in this home. I was wondering if you could break down that logical paradox you’re talking about, this idea of wanting to have them as ghosts but having them still be very human in the eyes of the main character.

Yeah, that’s the thing. The emotions that we carry around when we lose someone – it doesn’t even have to be through death, it can be for whatever reason, you’re just not with them anymore – all the pain that we carry feels so real. I wanted that to feel as real as possible. I mean, look, logically, there are lots of holes in any ghost story. “Are they actually living in the house? Is someone else living in the house? Is he going into the house? Is he not going into the house? Is it all in his mind?” I think you have to abandon logic to some extent because, of course, it’s not logical. Really, we are going into [the main character’s] mind, his subconscious. I decided to look at the whole film, really, as a manifestation of his emotional state but grounded in a way that makes it seem like his parents are in this house when he opens the door. There they are and, suddenly, he’s going back into the past but it’s not the past. They’re not real but they take on their own lives. It’s not all in his imagination either, because they’re also having conversations without him there, we gather. It excited me that I could go down all these avenues.

I love that this film really breathes. Many of the shots are long and the performances live within silences. Were there any specific touchstones in the visual style of this film that you were specifically thinking about in terms of this tone?

It was a tricky one to get right. I always have a little list of films that are interesting to me at the time, but there was such a mixture of things. I looked at Jacob’s Ladder and Rosemary’s Baby and more traditional genre pieces, and then I had Quiets and Whispers, [Ingmar] Bergman’s film, Black Narcissus, [directed by] Powell and Pressburger, and Leviathan, the Russian film [directed by Andrey Zvyagintsev], all of these other films. Rather than saying, “I want the film to be like these,” it was like, “I want to combine a realism and a naturalism with an otherworldly genre-esque element, what decisions can we make going forward so that it feels real but also not real?” It was hard to find anything that felt exactly like a good reference because we were trying to exist within the gaps of things. In the end, I think the whole team really loved that because we were like “Let’s just treat it as a drama,” essentially, because that’s really what it is.

Yeah, I don’t think anybody watching this film could imagine that it was based on this horror story because you ground it in very personal terms. I heard that you shot parts of this film in your actual childhood home, so I’m sure there was an almost spectral feeling when harnessing your memories there.

Definitely. I hadn’t been in that house since I was seven or eight, so it was like going into a haunted house. It’s weird. You’re going back and you are feeling how you used to feel in an environment that you used to live in. You’re recognizing things that you haven’t thought about in 40 years. I’m even recognizing the feel of things. I would put my hand on the banister and I was like, “Something in me is remembering this banister.” It was really, really unusual. It created this really interesting tone for everybody, for all of the crew. Even the actors were like, “Wait, so this used to be your mum and dad’s bed?” This was my bedroom, this was my wallpaper – we recreated the wallpaper – that was the color of my walls. It felt like the ghosts of my life were in the house telling the story of the film.

We have to talk a little bit about Andrew Scott. Fans of him already know that he’s a marvel of an actor, but I think that this film is introducing the film community to him in a very, very big way. It’s a very difficult character to play because, not to say any spoilers, but he is very much a singular entity in the film. How did you and Andrew hone in on him as this grounded piece of a very ethereal story?

Basically, a lot of conversations. He was the only person we went to for the lead. I had liked him for a long time and was always amazed he hadn’t been a lead in a film.

You and us all!

You know, he’s 46 now! He’s a brilliant actor, so subtle and careful and precise, but then really natural at the same time. It’s a real skill. When I sat down with him, we went through the script and we talked about what the film means to me, but so much of it felt like it was his life too. It was so joyous because he was like, “You’ve written a script about me.” That’s what I want from a script, because it’s not just about me. I want it to be about lots of people, regardless of their actual experience. He really responded to it and then we talked a lot about navigating between being an adult and being a child, which I think is the hardest thing that he does [in this film] and he does it beautifully. When he comes back to see his parents again, physically he looks the same but somehow he feels younger. He even looks younger. He feels more innocent and he’s desperate for them to love him and there’s all of these things going on. Then, it changes again when he goes back into the present tense, let’s call it, of the story. I think he does such a good job allowing his vulnerability to come out. It’s a very vulnerable performance, it’s exposing. It’s all of the things that are not easy for an actor to get to, but he just threw himself in.

I have to ask you about “The Power of Love,” which is a beautiful song featured significantly in the film. I’m sure it has a significance to you based on your history, but I’m wondering if there’s a significance to it that goes beyond merely being a period touchstone.

It had an emotional resonance because when I was a kid – this is the middle of the 80s – I used to love that song. I was 10 years old and I couldn’t quite work out why I loved it. When I look back at it grown up, I now understand why I loved it. It’s a big, orchestral, powerful pop song and I feel like, for young people, pop songs become a way to express their inner selves. They themselves can’t express their longing or what they want from the world at that age. In the end, this is a film about love. It is a film about the complications of love, both parental and romantic, how they are linked together, how you can find love, lose love, find it again, and lose it again. We’re all going to end up having lost love in our lives. We’re all going to lose our parents. Lots of us might lose our partners. That’s what happens in life, but the importance of love is the key. When I got to the end of the film, I was like, “You know what? Let’s make it go crazy. Let’s just go wild with it and be big and operatic.” I think it’s almost speaking to my old childhood sense saying. “Do you know what? It is possible. When you grow up, you are actually going to find love.” For me, it was about that.

What’s next for you? Are you looking to find another horror film to personalize, or are we going in another direction?

[both laugh] I’ve got a couple of projects all at a similar level that could happen next year. There’s always so many reasons why you do or do not do something – availability, money, all of those things. I’m hoping something will fall into place. But also, now that this film is being embraced, the next film will be in conversation with this one. So, I have to be sure that what’s next makes sense. That doesn’t mean going bigger or smaller or anything. It just means that it will have a relationship with what’s come before. I’m just trying to work out what the right decision is.'