#Idk how to structure a real sentence with these words gonna be real

[that-heretic]

If cotl was modern I image the Lamb would be so brain rotted and just start saying and bunch of slang Narinder can't even begin to comprehend.

[aleksatia]

When are you writing a novel?

I’m not even joking, I’m being completely deadass. I just made this tumblr to find more LaDS fan content. I never knew how tumblr worked even though I’m old enough to remember the tumblr golden age.

But I absolutely cannot rave enough about how well you write. I write as a hobby and I met both my partners through hobby writing and I have been telling both of them all about how good your fics are.

I literally wish they were canon. Your fanfics made me love the characters even more than I did.

You have a serious strength in pacing which is the hardest part of writing in my opinion. You start out with a basic premise but tailor it to each character so it’s never stale or repetitive and you seem to be able to think through the eyes of both characters to write from their point of view which is also super difficult.

Your sentences are neither excessively wordy, nor short and clipped. They’re descriptive enough to paint the picture in your head as well.

This is probably a super weird message, but again, idk how tumblr works. I just loved your writing so much and I look forward to everything you post and I would be fascinated to see if you have any homebrew content because I feel like you could competently write a complex character that feels like a real person.

I’m so sorry haha, I’m gonna stop rambling.

Please never stop writing. You’re so talented.

I honestly couldn’t believe my eyes when I read your message. Then I re-read it. Multiple times. 😭

First of all — thank you isn’t even a strong enough word. I’m deeply, incredibly grateful for every single thing you said. Shocked, floored, absolutely moved. Messages like yours? They inspire me. They fuel me. I can’t even explain how much energy and joy they bring.

Double shocked because:

English isn’t my first language! I’m fluent, but fun fact — I write it better than I speak it. (Though honestly, that applies to my native language too. I prefer to argue with my husband over text because I need time to gather my thoughts, lol.) For the longest time I was terrified to post anything in English. I kept thinking, “What if it sounds weird? What if it just… doesn’t click?” So I kept binge-reading English books, highlighting sentence structures, grammar, tone — trying to absorb it all.

I was in a creative block for eight years. Couldn’t write a single line. And yeah, I’m not a teenager anymore — which is why my stories tend to lean toward more mature themes, older characters, complicated emotional arcs. I realized my block came from the fact that I live and work between two languages now, and they kept bleeding into each other. I’d start a sentence in my native tongue and end it in English — structure and rhythm all tangled.

So for you to notice the pacing, the style, the emotional depth, the flow of it all? That means the world. I love details — I live inside the character’s head when I write. I see what they see. Feel what they feel. I don’t just write emotions — I am the emotion, in that moment. And half the time, the characters drag me places I never planned to go — and I let them. Writing like that? That’s bliss. That’s freedom.

As for the novel… yes. I’m working on it. Actually, I’ve got an entire series in the works. And right now? I’m writing for joy. For the characters. For the one person who might stumble across it and feel seen. Even if that one person is me. But when the time is right — I’ll share it. I promise.

Once again, thank you. I’m absolutely open to chatting in comments, in DMs, wherever. Finding people on the same wavelength is such a gift. And this message of yours? It lit me up like the sun. Pure solar energy. Air in my lungs.

Just — thank you. From one still-humble author with big dreams. 💛

[gh0st-patr0l]

Okay @junglemax got me thinkin a LOT abt my circa 2020-21 era in-kayfabe supernatural nonsense au Ive had in my brain forever so I'm just gonna dump a bunch of my headcanons here. Read them or dont idk Im not ur dad

So Darby is obv undead. Either fully or half dead idk but the point is he died and it didn't stick- some kinda fucked up necromancy magic brought him back just a little Wrong

For the most part, he had to figure out what he is and how he's changed on his own, through trial and error. Until he met Sting- hes like, a fuckin warlock or some shit whos been around Forever and seen Everything. He finds Darby and decides 2 teach him how to actually deal with all his undead stuff

Okay so this ones kinda crazy but I really like it. Luchasaurus was a human professor who got mutated with a dinosaur in a lab accident, fly style. He got sent out to the middle of nowhere to hide while he adjusted to his new life. That's where he met Jungle Boy

JB is literally a kid who got raised my monkeys. Maybe he got stranded in a plane crash or something idk. Hes like 12 when Lucha finds him

Luchasaurus decided to take JB in, and when he goes back to civilization he takes JB with him

JB missed the crucial stage of language development, so he struggles to form actual sentences. Despite that, which Lucha's help he actually knows a lot of words and can communicate in simplified speech, though talking is still weird for him. Hes kind of self conscious about it bc he knows he sounds strange. He prefers ASL, though again there's no real sentence structure

Kris is for real an alien. She like crashed onto earth a while ago, but was held captive in Area 51 for years. She recently broke out and ran into Orange by chance. He gave her a ride to the city and didn't say anything when she followed him to his and the Best Friends' place. Chuck and Trent had questions. None of them were answered. They just kinda shrugged and she's been with them ever since

Orange is. Probably human? People think? But nobody's Sure

Idk what the setting looks like here. I usually picture a superhero/villain comic book type context but I've only done a little worldbuilding for that. Maybe Ill get into it and flesh that oht more if anyone's interested in this lmao

[moonnue]

20 Questions ♥

Thank you @anisaanisa for tagging me! ♥ I've been meaning to do these tag games but I'm always busy-- I'm actually free at the moment! And it's cool that it's a fanfic quiz, since I've just gotten into posting my stuff hahaha

How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 6 so far! I've got lots in the works but I don't like sharing 'till I'm done :3c

What’s your total AO3 words count?

29,294

What fandoms do you write for?

I've written for InuYasha, Portal, and for the little Toothfairy fandom but as far as what I've posted I'm currently, and very obviously, into Baldur's Gate 3. Other fandoms I've written for are Toilet-Bound Hanako-Kun, Jujutsu Kaisen, and Spice and Wolf

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Hands On A C(l)ock (441) Portrait of a Vampire (366) Shower Break (337) Cheeky Little Pup (73) Erotica of a Vampire (51)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I don't orz. I first posted to Ao3 in 2020 and then walked away so when I came back to post the next part I was like !!! oh shit!!! people left comments LOL I felt embarrassed for just letting them sit there and now I'm kind of stuck. Plus, I feel weird going to everyone and just saying "thank you!" I REALLY APPRECIATE IT I'M JUST…….. AH!

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Not posted but it's going to be the KagKik fic I'm writing :3c Otherwise I don't like angst oops

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Shower Break, I guess? or Cheeky Little Pup? Idk, I'm even looking at my WIPs but I'm not sure how some of them are gonna end yet!

Do you get hate on fics?

Technically I experienced my first recently when I had a person try to accuse me of stealing their fic and then went on to try and drag my name through the mud. That was exciting! (sarcasm)

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

it's………. it's my main thing. oops. i write second person f/o x reader fic cuz i'm cringe and free <3

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

SOOO NOT WRITTEN! YET! But I do have a ton in mind. I think the craziest one I'd ever want to write if I got the balls to do it would be an RSK x Madoka Magica fic cuz I just think. It would be fucking funny. Given RSK are real people so I'm like ehhh maybe not. Otherwise I think the only other one is an InuYasha x Labyrinth crossover but that ain't too wild. It's been done before!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of! Also, I can't help but find it strange, the idea of stealing fic. Do people actually do this lol

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Technically? Friend of mine write together from time to time, but again, nothing posted.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

You x Your Favorite Character

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a story started that's about Naraku getting isekai'd into another world where he's the hero of it. I think it's pretty funny but getting myself to start it has been a little tough.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm really good at capturing character voices. I also think I'm good at describing emotions.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I think my sentences could stand for a bit more of a unique structure. I don't like writing place descriptions very much, I'm very character focused.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Sure…? Why not! Do it!

First fandom you wrote for?

InuYasha <3

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Care For A Wet Dog, oddly enough, even though it's unfinished. I don't know, there's something about it that I really like. It's older and I think I kind of miss how my writing used to be? Then again whether anyone else sees a difference, I wouldn't know.

not tagging anyone just cuz i...... i don't know who to tag! uh! i dont want to bother anyone lol! so if you see this and wanna do it please do! and tag me in it because if i inspired you to do it i would love to read it! (and maybe keep you in mind for any future tags? maybe? hm? *nudge nudge*)

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Just wanted to let you know that I noticed the devil fruit name you used "kiku kiku no mi" and Idk if you mentioned if you know about this (again, only just found your blog) so forgive me if you have, but I wanted to fangirl about it real quick (and if you know about this stuff then I guess this is for your readers)

I took Japanese as an elective this year and I developed a bit of an hyperfixation on the grammar BC it's so cool (why yes I was bullied in school, how could you tell?) how well set out everything is compared to english as the Frankenstein's monster of languages

Basically: "no" is a single character, and single characters can either be used in words (like kimono) for their phonetic sounds, or some characters are used on their own either as words or as particles. "No" as a particle, is used to specify. It can be used to indicate something belonging to someone - kind of like how you'd say "Clara's bike" in Japanese you'd say "Clara-san no jitensha(bike)" - or something belonging to a category - like saying you have a Japanese friend would be "Nihonjin no Tomodachi". (Friend, belonging to the category of 'japanese people')

So when devil fruits are called "____ ____ no mi" it's referring to a fruit (mi) belonging to a category. (E.g, Devil fruit of gum).

I'm pretty sure (but haven't checked) that devil fruit use nouns and onomatopoeia, but no verbs.

Here's the fangirling:

"Kiku" is the dictionary/plain/root form of the verb 'to hear' (which I'm sure you knew), basically it can be used on its own as a verb in casual company, but typically you'd conjugate it in polite/formal conversation (like how "write" can become "writing" (present), or "wrote" (past), etc.)

"Kiku" is ALSO the root form of the verb 'to ask', so the words for asking, asked, will ask, and the words for hearing/listening, listened/heard, etc., are exactly the same and you'd tell which is which based on context. (There's also another word for asking but they're pretty much interchangeable and we're gonna focus on the metaphor of this word)

Kiku can be conjugated into many different, more specific meanings (as it only applies to the present and future, or habitual actions such as saying you regularly listen to music, and is only for casual convo, not polite), but always has the same root.

BUT, Japanese verbs can be classified by their characters (which inform how they conjugate) OR as transitive and intransitive.

Transitive verbs can (or have to) take on an object/noun (e.g; 'eat' can be used as "I ate" or "I ate (noun)"), while intransitive verbs typically cannot (e.g; you can only say "I laughed" instead of "I laughed (noun)").

"Kiku" is a transitive verb. You can say "I hear" or "I listen to music" and you can say "I asked" or "I asked a question".

And SOMETHING ABOUT IT is driving me crazy.

The thought of karimi never getting asked if she wanted these powers and never being able to ask them to stop.

Only ever knowing her 'kiku' fruit for the meaning of 'to hear', and occasionally 'to listen' when it's intentional, but it's never not 'to hear' because she doesn't have a choice about that.

Something about never being able to ask someone if she can hear their thoughts because the fruit doesn't work like that and she despises that it robbed her agency but the agency of those around her as well. Something about how hard she worked to be able to NOT hear. Not just to give her reprieve but to give agency back to those around her.

Something about how she can't ask before she uses her powers out of respect, but she also can't really ask to hear someone's thoughts out of love, the way you might ask someone to tell you what's on their mind.

Something about how, given the structure of Japanese verb sentences, "I hear your thoughts" wouldn't be too much different from "I ask your thoughts". (If you used a very basic sentence)

How, Karimi might desparately try to ask for someone's (*cough* Mihawk *cough*) thoughts, genuinely wanting a connection, only to have it sound like she's saying she'll read them anyway, and hate that she has that taken away too.

How, if someone (*cough* MIHAWK *cough*) were to finally ask her for her thoughts, she would probably think it would be to even the playing field, think that they despise her powers as much as she does. And maybe, at first, it is.

Until they ask for her thoughts.

Ask her if she wanted this ability, ask her if she hated it, ask her if there's anything they can do, ask her about her life, ask her about her past, ask her about her grandma, ask her about her hopes and dreams, her favourite colour, how she likes her tea. Until it's undeniable that they're not just evening the playing field.

Or maybe they are, but not for them.

Maybe someone finally understands how much of a burden it is to constantly know and hear but never be known or heard in return.

Because they did hear her. Maybe not her thoughts. Maybe not like she heard them. But they heard her. Over time they grew to know her, and recognised, even without use of her devil fruit ability, that she didn't ask for this.

So they're asking for her.

(also, could be interesting for a secret power in addition to hearing thoughts. I mean even if you just stick with the current power, if she did ask someone something they'd probably think of the true answer even if they lied or didn't say anything, so it's also like she has the power of asking)

Kinda bouncing at the fact that you noticed it was a verb rather than a noun like known canonical devil fruits. I studied Japanese a little on my own (Rosetta Stone and an old app called Human Japanese that may or may not still exist) just as a hobby, and got a minute understanding of sentence structure and grammar out of it, so this is just wonderful honestly ❤️

There's actually a very stupid reason for the name of the fruit.

When her father's crew found the devil fruit, they didn't know what power it possessed. They were planning most likely on selling it off to the highest bidder, though a few of them were of course daring each other to just eat the thing and see what happened.

Karimi got a hold of it first, on a long stretch between islands on the Grand Line. She was pushing four years old, she was hungry, it was a pretty fruit. Her father's first mate, Janx, was supposed to be guarding the thing...but he fell asleep. There may have been rum involved. The chest it was in was left unlocked because the crew's cook almost talked him into eating it, and he forgot to lock it back up.

Big whoops.

Cut to three year old Karimi screaming bloody murder about "voices," and barely getting caught before she can shove a knife in her own ear, at which point Janx wakes up and realizes oh shit the devil fruit is gone he is so dead

Captain Lyon (hates his given name, personal reasons) is pretty out of his depth on the matter. He was only seventeen when Karimi was born. He's been on the Grand Line a couple years, and pirating is a lot easier than parenting, and he has no idea what's going on or how to deal with the fact that his child is hearing voices...until Janx pulls him aside and indicates the empty chest and just points at Karimi, totally speechless.

Lyon barely manages to keep his cool and not outright murder his first mate, more for Karimi's sake than anything, and he and his first mate figure out pretty quickly that the girl can now hear their thoughts. Everyone's thoughts.

Janx is the one who coins "kiku kiku no mi," sort of in passing, while they're discussing how to handle the issue.

Lyon tells him that makes no sense. "Kange" (for thought) or "Koe" (for voice) would make more sense, given the general naming procedures of devil fruits.

Janx just shrugs and points out that kiku "has a nicer ring to it, though."

And...it just sort of ended up sticking because Janx kept calling it that and Lyon got tired of arguing about it. Janx is made up of pure chaotic energy that counterbalances Lyon's relatively more laid back personality, I'm honestly itching to write Lyon's story because I love them both so much.

Where Mihawk is concerned, he's pretty put off by the idea of anyone being in his head, voluntarily or otherwise; and he doesn't like the idea of his associate wasting her energy using Haki to keep the ability "turned off," so he takes measures to prevent both pretty early on (which will be covered in either the next chapter or the one immediately thereafter). The measure in question is an important bonding point between their characters so I won't be saying anything else on the subject here.

[chateautae]

the most wonderful time of the year | kth. (m)

➵ summary :  taehyung hasn’t seen you since high school graduation, but when he finds himself in need of a date for his friend’s annual christmas party, running into you is like a godsend; especially when he once had feelings for you, and little did he know, you felt the same way all along.

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  nonidol!au, f2l, fluff, smut

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 19k

➵ warnings : mutual pining, sexual content, swearing, dom!tae, cuddling resulting in over the clothes stuff, rough fingering, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, big dick!tae cause we know he’s packing, marking, restraint (with his own hands), choking, begging, unprotected sex (wrap it up peeps), hitting it from the back 😜, mirror (?) sex (reflection of a window), rough sex but then i love you sex, praising, slight humiliation, denied orgasm, creampie, aftercare

part of ksmutclub’s winter project 2020!, using prompt #7: “did everyone else come with a date?”

➵ a/n : thank you to @getmemyfries​ for beta-reading and constantly reassuring me about this fic, idk where she’s been all my life 😭, but surprise!! would you believe me if i told you guys i grinded this in just 3 days?? because YES i did, 19k in three days as a Christmas gift pretties, happy late holidays!!, comments and feedback are always appreciated <3

“Are you serious, Jimin?” 

“Very. I don’t know how you didn’t get the memo, literally everyone was talking about it.” 

“Did everyone else come with a date? There has to be at least one person who didn’t.” 

“And that one person is you, Tae. Did you forget that I made the theme all about mistletoe? Who did you expect to kiss under it, me?” 

“Super funny, Jimin. I just got really busy and I don’t even think I was paying attention to you.” 

“Well, it’s your loss now, everyone came with a date and you’ll be third-wheeling the whole night. You can’t blame us either, it’s cuffing season and you know it.” 

“Do I really have to come? I’ll just spend Christmas with my family.” 

“And ruin their vacation with your annoying ass? What a lovely son, an even better best friend for ditching my party.” 

“Okay, Jimin, I get it. Just-fuck, alright, I’ll find someone. Please tell me you didn’t plan anything too couply in case I have to bring an absolute stranger.” 

“Hmm, I’ll think about it.” 

And Jimin cut the call without a second to spare. 

Taehyung stood there baffled, appalled by his best friend for not even having said goodbye. But then again, maybe he really deserved it. Taehyung had just become too busy with his job this year to even think about Jimin and his friends’ party, allowing it to inhabit the back of his mind and loom over him for weeks, though not giving it the time of day he should’ve. 

And now he’s stuck in a situation he doesn’t know how to get out of. The party is in just two days, how exactly was he supposed to find someone that would even agree to accompany him? 

One, they would have to be someone explicitly bored on Christmas Eve. Two, comfortable with meeting complete strangers and spending an entire night with them. Third, they would have to be willing to even fake-date him. 

Taehyung knew he could at least satisfy the third requirement with just a smidge of his charm and good looks, though the real issues were the other two requirements, especially the first one. 

Who the fuck is ever doing nothing on Christmas Eve? 

These are the exact thoughts that clouded Taehyung’s mind, sighing heavily as he dejectedly sauntered into a coffee shop after work. It wasn’t the usual place, but he decided on a new one in search of a possible partner; even if it were a stranger from a different coffee shop, he’d take what he could get. 

It’s precisely why he began scanning the room just enough to discern any potential date as he waited in line. With his hands in his pockets, lips buried into his plaid scarf that draped over his brown winter coat, and attempted to make eye contact with any female he thought eligible. 

He spotted some cute girls, though made quick judgements about them not fitting his requirements; some meeting boyfriends, family, yapping away about Christmas plans as though the whole store needed to hear about it.

Pulling out his phone, he considered he had some female friends, maybe co-workers he could convince to tag along. It sounded like a great idea in his head, though when he scrolled though his contacts carefully, he found himself coming up short once again. 

Not only had he seen his friends’ stories, all flaunting their very apparent Christmas plans, but even more so his co-workers having literally informed him about either flying back home, meeting family or easing up far, far away on a tropical beach. 

And he definitely knew there’d be no one available. 

All of it made Taehyung feel deflated once he had placed his order and waited patiently by the store’s counter. He thought he was royally fucked, needed to forego social etiquette and just ask a damn stranger at this point. 

Sighing yet again, he mindlessly looked over to the side, catching a glimpse of the person ordering after him with a voice he suddenly recognized. Taehyung’s eyebrows immediately shot to the sky once he took a double-take, a near injustice to say he was only shocked. 

He was practically floored, had to rub his eyes a few times just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Surely he’d lost it after the gruesome shift he just pulled at work, because he was pondering how in God’s name was he seeing you of all people ordering. 

How the hell did you manage to look 100x prettier than you used to, Taehyung thought. It was no doubt you; your smile still charming as ever, your hair still elegantly soft, your eyes still naturally sparkling under every Christmas light in the store just like they always did. 

It was really you. 

The same you he knew all throughout high school though moved away after graduation, the same you who was brilliant at every subject though could never understand math, the same you who waltzed into school with that plaid winter coat anyone could recognize you for, the same you who always teased him about his love for pineapple on pizza because you could never comprehend the taste. 

The same you he once liked.   

It was actually you, bundled up in a gray winter coat and white scarf as you smiled a thank you to the barista, eventually making your way over to the counter Taehyung was situated at, settling next to him without having noticed. 

Taehyung thought you were an angel sent from heaven, a Godsend, his one and only true saviour once he studied you up close, concluding that you weren’t just some mirage but in fact his real-life friend from years ago who could possibly rescue him from this Christmas party fuck up. 

And so he didn’t waste a single, valuable moment, because you know what they say, ‘carpe diem’, oh captain my captain. 

“Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

Your surprised eyes snapped towards the oddly familiar low voice, eyebrows shooting up once you resgitered just who exactly said your name. You seemed to be in the same disbelief as Taehyung, himself utterly grateful you’d actually recognized him. 

“Oh my God, Kim Taehyung?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Taehyung laughed shyly. “Damn, how long has it been? 5? 6 years?” 

“6 years, yeah.” You confirmed with a smile. “Since graduation.” 

“I can’t believe that was 6 years ago, seems just like yesterday.” Taehyung couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off his face remembering the chaotic party by the lake you all threw together, resulting in someone nearly drowning, Taehyung downing more alcohol than he ever had in his life, and you shamelessly shoving everyone into the water until you eventually capsized yourself. 

Taehyung had to collect himself to coherently speak sentences again, nearly feeling his neurons incessantly firing off in his brain. “But wow, when did you come back to town?” 

“3 months ago, I was transferred for work.” You informed casually, though your sweet smile was infectious. “Wow, I’m.. I can’t believe I ran into you here.” You were honestly still shocked, marveling at the fact you somehow bumped into Kim Taehyung, the Kim Taehyung from high school.  

The same Taehyung who teased you about being terrible at math, the same one who only ever brought strawberry jam sandwiches to school and God forbid someone ever took a bite. The same Taehyung who was the cute social butterfly everyone completely adored at school. 

The same Taehyung you once liked.   

“It doesn’t feel long indeed, but you look.. different.” You did a light scan of him, noticing just how how much taller, more handsome and manlier he appeared. It was reflected in the edge of his jawline, crisp face structure and broader upper body. 

Quite frankly, he looked incredibly striking, almost intimidatingly so, and you could only think about when Taehyung used to appear a little scrawnier, lankier though still attractive all the same with his adorable eyes and plushy lips. 

It was nearly daunting to see the gorgeous difference now. 

“You look different too.. good different.” He added with a smile as he looked you over, and it was pleasant to see he still had that same boxy smile, the same little creases at the corner of his eyes. Though instead now, his smile looked devilishly handsome, and it was hard to not trip over your own feet about it. 

“You too. You’re so much taller now.” You commented, craning your neck just to converse with him. 

“And you’re still short, huh?” 

Your mouth flew open, scandalized at the comment though laughed when he chuckled at your expression. “Oh c’mon, you’re still gonna tease me about how short I am? It’s been six years, Taehyung.” 

“Hey, don’t think it’s not payback for all those times you lectured me about how ‘inhuman’ liking pineapple on pizza was. I still have your PowerPoint presentations saved.” Taehyung retorted through a laugh, remembering the way you’d really take the time to conjure up presentations just so he could be  unconvinced of the preference. 

“Okay, okay. You got me. Is there ever a way I could make it up to you... Assistant Curator Kim?” You read the lanyard that hung around his neck, inspecting it to see his ID photo along with his job title. 

“Ah,” Taehyung exclaimed, scrambling for the lanyard. “I was in a rush to get out of work so I left it on by accident.” Taehyung explained a little embarrassed, unhooking it from around his neck. 

“Why were you in a rush?” You knitted your eyebrows together, only asking out of innocent curiosity, though Taehyung lit up like a Christmas tree, knowing this was his golden opportunity and he was definitely going to take his chance. 

“Uh.. do you still remember Park Jimin and the rest of our friends?” Taehyung started. 

“Oh my God, of course I do! You’re all still friends?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. I mean, even when we get tired of each other we know nobody else will put up with us, so we’re still close.” Taehyung snickered, remembering him and his friends were still the same 7 dorks from high school. 

“Awh, I wish I could see them, we used to have so much fun together.” You pouted, shoving your hands into your pockets as you recalled amusing memories from years ago; stupid adventures to the lake by your school, chasing the sunset, knowing you probably incessantly bothered the owner of that one gas station you always visited. 

“Actually, the reason why I was rushing was because Jimin holds an annual Christmas Eve party, and this time around he made it a ‘bring-a-date’ memo, and I kinda got too busy to remember.” Taehyung began scratching the back of his neck, a little shy considering he didn’t really listen to Jimin when he should’ve. 

“Ohh.” You nodded understandingly. “So you forgot to get a date?” 

“Yeah.” Taehyung confirmed, nodding with some disappointment in himself. “But say, you mentioned a favour, right?” Taehyung eyed you knowingly, hand never leaving his neck as he forced himself to get the question out. “Are you doing anything on Christmas Eve?” 

You were a little taken aback, thinking you knew exactly where he was going with this, and also thinking it was a damn Christmas miracle. You remembered your unfortunate situation for Christmas Eve; your parents having booked a cottage for themselves considering you’d be working that day, though gladly enough your boss decided it was the most wonderful time of the year, so why the fuck would he keep people hostage at work? 

It landed you with quite literally nothing to do on the joyous day, and excitement began to fill your chest already about your answer, though you composed yourself to appear normal. 

“No, actually. My parents are at a cottage together, so I was going to be home.” 

Taehyung could’ve been on cloud nine right about now, thanking God or whatever supreme being for answering his prayers. You’d literally checked off his every requirement perfectly, and now all that was left was...

“Would you like come to Jimin’s party as my date? I know it’s only in 2 days and it’s really sudden, but I’m kinda stuck right now and I promised Jimin I would come after finding someone, he’ll probably kick my ass if I don’t-” 

“I’d love to come.” You broke out into a grin at his adorable rambling, nearly giddy your assumption from before was exactly correct.

“Wait, seriously? You mean that?” Taehyung asked in wonderment. 

“Why would I lie to you, Taehyung?” You chuckled at the endearing way his face was lighting up, trying to ensure he couldn’t see the stars in your eyes as you looked at him.  

“Oh my God, you actually just.. saved my life.” Taehyung reveled, expression of utter gratitude. 

“Don’t mention it. It’s all I can do after making you sit through 10 minutes of me berating you for liking fruit on pizza. It’s still weird, by the way.” 

“Hey, don’t make me take your drink and ask you to jump for it.” Taehyung chastised, biting back a smile at the fact that you two still bickered like old times. 

“Fair point, so in two days, huh?” 

“Mhm. Can I get your number, actually? I’ll send you the details tonight.” Taehyung began digging for his phone in his pocket. 

“Oh, yeah of course.” You agreed as you went for yours. You both huddled a little closer to exchange the digits, trading phones and adding your names into each other’s contacts. It dawned a slight fuzzy feeling in your chest, getting a whiff of Taehyung’s masculine cologne and realizing in this proximity, just how incredibly ravishing Taehyung had in fact grown up, how much larger and broader he was in comparison to you. 

That he was a man now, not the quirky little dork you once knew, and that thought alone caused something to momentarily alight inside you. 

He was a man now. 

“Remember when we only had iPods and had to talk through our land lines?” Taehyung took a trip down memory lane and grounded you back to Earth, returning your phone to you. 

“Ah yes, when technology was just expanding and us 90′s kids were always caught in the weird middle.” You reminisced as he chuckled, recalling the older days. 

You were just finishing typing in your name for your contact, nearly clicking save until you decided to add the little bow emoji next to your name, handing Taehyung’s phone back to him. 

“A bow?” Taehyung inquired, finding it cute. 

“I deserve it, I’m your little Christmas present under your tree, aren’t I?” You flashed him a cute flower pose with a kittenish grin, the barista calling out Taehyung’s order just after. 

Taehyung could only smile widely, endeared you still had that same playful charm. “Yeah, you are.” He made for his drink and nabbed it, fixing his phone back into this pocket before addressing you. “I’ve gotta get going. I’ll see you in 2 days, okay? It was seriously great meeting you again. Y/N.” 

“You too, I’ll see you then!” You chimed with a wave as Taehyung began stepping away, almost turning from him until he suddenly called out to you one last time, just about through the door.  

“Thank you again, Y/N, I owe you, my Christmas present!” He shouted his last words through a stupid smile, you returning the same one as a welcome before Taehyung exited the shop. 

And you couldn’t stop yourself from breaking out into the goofiest grin then, cheeks hotter than you remembered. You were glad Taehyung was still the same charismatic, easily lovable person from high school, the same charm and adorable impishness about him. 

Only now, he was all grown up and matured, no longer the slightly awkward, though heartfelt kid who liked stealing your history notes. And you became a little afraid feeling the same flutter in your heart from 6 years ago, curious if it was just a momentary lapse upon seeing him again, or signaling the ignition of an old flame it took you years to forget. 

Taehyung : remember to bring your competitive side today ;)

You : omg, what did jimin plan? 

Taehyung : you’ll have to wait and see 

Taehyung : jimin’s a creative one, remember? 

You : how could i forget? i’m never forgiving him for making me spend 3 hours writing calligraphy for that anthro project 😭

Taehyung : man, the guys are gonna love seeing you again

Taehyung : be there in 5! 

You : gotchu! 

You hated that you smiled so stupidly at your screen, never having forgotten the fluttery feeling Taehyung always managed to manifest in your stomach.

You clicked your phone screen off and checked over your outfit for the umpteenth time, wanting to look good not only for Taehyung (though that was the primary reason) but also for the rest of the crew. It’d seriously been too long since you last saw each other, having always been up to dumb shenanigans in high school though sadly parting ways after graduation. 

It was only inevitable with everyone’s future plans being so dissimilar, you having gone down the road of law and miraculously scoring a scholarship to a prestigious university a few towns over, spelling your departure from your beloved childhood city and therefore, goodbye to everyone you knew. 

You were glad the boys managed to remain so closely-knitted despite their different paths; Taehyung having clearly acquired a job at a museum considering his love for art. Last time you remembered, Jimin was an aspiring dancer, Hoseok was a natural at hospitality, Seokjin always rambled on about acting, Jungkook was gifted with a camera, Namjoon adored books and Yoongi wouldn’t trade music for the world. 

It was bittersweet recalling such memories, having to leave behind everything you knew to pursue your own dream. Bitter, though sweet knowing you had larger than life opportunities awaiting you. It was precisely what landed you your current job, working comfortably at a high-status law firm albeit stealing very much of your time. 

It was perfect, nonetheless, since the main office was located back home and you had just been transferred 3 months ago, finding your way back 6 years later. You didn’t know if the boys were still in town, had no real clue where their lives went with only stray social media posts indicating they were still alive and healthy. 

So running into Taehyung all of a sudden? It made you more than glad, remembering not only your fun times together as a group, but your comfortable friendship with him, and the undeniable feelings you’d developed overtime. 

Suffice to say, you both were quirky yet cute, and you made perfect sense. Not only did it land you two a supportive relationship full of laughs and teasing, but also numerous instances where someone’s actions or behaviour became suggestive, questioned the borders of actual friendship between you though nobody willing to take the leap, and it left all your friends inquiring exactly when you two would start dating. 

Though that was the sad part, you never did. And the reason why? You have no real clue. It simply never dawned on you to express your feelings towards Taehyung in fear of him not feeling the same, thinking your crush was just a phase and you’d eventually view him as a friend again, a process of denial you repeated for the 4 grueling years of high school.

Though the second you realized you’d have to say goodbye so soon, with the possibility you’d never see him again, you realized Taehyung was the one boy you truly loved, and sometimes questioned if you still did. 

It hurt to have to hug him one last time before you disconnected, remembering the way you cried having to part from everyone, and Taehyung held you against him until your eyes dried, waving an innocent goodbye before you rounded the corner of your street and disappeared forever. 

To this day you haven’t got a clue if Taehyung ever felt the same, always chalking up his little lingering touches, hugs and double entendres to his naturally flirtatious and outgoing nature. It hindered your ability to say anything, thinking over the years maybe your non-confessional departure was an enormous mistake. 

So when you heard the doorbell of your apartment ring, in the five minutes Taehyung promised, your heart couldn't help but leap at the thought you’d see him again, meet all your old friends and spend an entire festive, fun-filled night with them. 

You made for the door without a second thought and pulled it ajar, meeting Taehyung’s somehow more stunning self all ready to go. He’d decided today to dress with a tan plaid coat, black turtle neck poking out from underneath paired with black slacks to match; and you realized Taehyung definitely invented the all-black look. 

Sources? You. 

You almost gawked, his hair set to reveal some forehead though curl just before his eyebrows, and it was evilly handsome. He was evilly handsome. 

You remembered he was standing right in front of you, thinking a good moment has passed since you uttered anything, a warm smile as you addressed him. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” He greeted back, scanning over you, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered for a second on your legs. You’d gone for your same gray coat, though surprisingly with an all black outfit underneath as well, cute wrap around dress with a v line dipping just generously enough, all paired with pantyhose. 

Who cares about a little cold when you want to look cute anyway, right? 

“We’re matching, it’s cute.” He complimented, his smile just a little impish as it met your chest momentarily though flashed back up to you. 

“I guess you’re cute too.” You shrugged, nearly hiding your face under his scrutiny. 

“We should get going, m’lady. Jimin’ll chew my head off if I’m late too.” Taehyung feigned a sophisticated tone, turning aside and holding out his arm for you to loop like a gentleman. 

You chuckled just a little and clutched your side bag, hooking onto his arm as you switched the lights of your apartment off and shut the door behind you. 

“Now would the kind sir tell me what we’re doing today?” You inquired as Taehyung began walking you down the hallway, peering at his God-like side profile. “You’ve been so mysterious about it.” 

Taehyung clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Now what’s the point of a surprise if I tell you?” 

“But why is it a surprise? Don’t tell me it’s something ridiculous like rock climbing.” You playfully scolded, trying to keep up with his long strides as he led you towards the elevator. 

“Maybe it’s just to see the way your face will light up when you find out.” Taehyung suggested with narrowed eyes as he looked down at you, you staring back at him in scrutiny until you both snickered. 

And as you entered the elevator arm in arm with him, maybe you felt that same skip of your heartbeat from years ago. 

“Holy shit, Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?” Jimin’s face was utterly surprised, his warm, puppy eyes you remember too well wide as he held the door open.

“Of course it is, Park Jimin!” You cheered as you held your arms out for a hug, his gentle arm wrapping around your torso as he beamed.

“The guys are not gonna believe this, I gotta tell em’. Come in, come in!” Jimin ushered you and Taehyung inside, redirecting his attention to the beautiful, open space condo he called his humble abode. “Guys! Come to the front, look who’s here!”

You and Taehyung were propping your boots off when people eventually came piling into the front foyer and responding to Jimin absentmindedly. All were similarly unsuspecting their eyes widened when landing on you, sounding the next slew of hilarious commentary you’d missed too damn much. 

“No way, is that Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Y/N?”

“Y/N, we thought you left town, when did you come back?”

“Taehyung, how the hell did you find her?”

“Even better, how the fuck did he get her to come as his date?” It was Jungkook who made the quip that elicited everyone’s snickering, yourself simply overwhelmed by the amount of memories that came back just by the sound of their quite manlier now, though familiar voices.

They all still had the same charming features, each of them reminiscent of their teenaged selves, but the difference? Now they were polished into captivatingly good-looking men you were baffled to even know at this point. 

“Oh my God, it’s been 6 years, just let me hug you guys!” You excitedly gestured for them to come to you, friendly smiles all around as you embraced and reunited. 

“Jungkook, why wouldn’t she agree? You trying to say something?” Taehyung didn’t let the earlier insult go, eyebrows quirked as he retorted.

“Dude, Y/N has always been out of your league.” Yoongi added.

“And honestly, now she’s even more out of your league.” Seokjin joined the teasing and it erupted another bout of cackling from the group, you only left to shyly scrunch your nose and giggle.

“Okay, okay, let’s move from standing here, yeah? There’s a party and 6 years worth of catching up to do!” Jimin chimed, chastising everyone huddled by the corridor and allowing you and Taehyung to settle into the home.

Jimin was still the meticulous perfectionist you knew back then, his home adorably charmed with Christmas decorations that made his place feel incredibly warm. His pretty Christmas tree in the corner with some gifts wrapped underneath, his fireplace adorned with pretty stockings, even the small trinkets scattered around were reminding your sadly adult-self that it was indeed Christmas, and it’s meant to be jolly. 

It automatically created an atmosphere of festivity, and catching sight of the dates each friend brought moving about, it only felt more like the holidays with 14 people occupying the home. 

You were marveling with a wide smile at the scene before you, everyone moving back into the house to resume what they were previously doing until you suddenly felt someone’s hands hook onto the neck collar of your jacket from behind. You whirled around in an instant with seeking eyes, viewing the culprit was none other than the only owner of the largest, most slender hands you still found incredibly attractive.

Goddamn you.

“Sorry, I’ll just take your jacket for you.” Taehyung realized he may have startled you. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed, hurriedly shredding off the layer not having noticed you were still wearing it. “I could put it away myself though, give me yours.”

You reached for Taehyung’s jacket in his hands, though he immediately jut the jacket further away from you in protest. “No, no. You’re my date, I’m taking it.”

“But Tae-”

“Hey, you’re my present, remember? You deserve it.” Taehyung mimicked you from your exchange at the coffee shop, you ultimately acquiescing as a result.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes playfully, though a laugh was pulling at you all the same. “What would you be, though?” You asked out of curiosity. “If I’m the present, what are you?” 

Taehyung toyed with your question in his thoughts until he chose the perfect answer, lips growing into a smirk as he drew closer to your face a little. “The one who gets to open it up.”

Something shot through you that was alarming, his cocked eyebrow indicative he was being suggestive, and you played it off with a scoff. “It’s not even Christmas morning yet, and I know you’re just the goodest little boy on Earth who’d wait until he can open his presents.” You clasped your hands together, condescendingly feigning innocence. 

“Or maybe you just never got to know, Y/N.” Taehyung then suddenly leaned down much closer to your face, inches from you as he looked into your eyes. “I haven’t always been a good boy.” 

Taehyung was boring something undistinguishable into you, though the double meaning of his words left apparent heat in the air between you. 

And here it fucking was again, those same double entendres Taehyung had always shot your way though you always took it as him simply fooling around, so you always joined in with your own jokes, assuming the same approach now.  

“Hmm, we’ll see about that, Good boy. Santa’s watching.” You countered as you patted his chest sarcastically, causing Taehyung to stand to his full height biting his lip. 

He stared at you for a moment before walking away, noticing how long his legs were and the unfair curve of his ass, and you suddenly gained a new feature of his to ogle at. He eventually disappeared and you breathed, temporarily forgetting you had a dumb habit of holding your breath whenever he was so close; his piney with a hint of ocean breeze cologne having been left behind, and hitting you like a truck just as much as his all black outfit did. 

God fucking dammit. 

You decided to ignore your intrusive thoughts and waltz into the party instead, grabbing yourself a drink and eventually making your way towards some of the boys’ pretty dates. It was refreshing to feel the presence of women, thanking the Heavens they were all relatively sweet and amicable. 

Conversation always came easy to you, what with being a lawyer who has to be a master with words anyway, so it wasn’t difficult to not only befriend some of the girls, but also reconnect with the boys merrily, Taehyung by your side. 

“Y/N, how dare you not contact any of us about coming back?” Hoseok asked, a little upset timbre in his tone. 

“Yeah, I’m actually a little hurt you ended up coming with Tae of all people. After all the books I shared with you?” Namjoon feigned disappointment, a hand to his heart in near heartbreak. 

“Dude, what’s wrong with her coming with me? Not my fault you gave her boring ass books.” Taehyung defended.

“Tae, you’d steal her history notes for fuck’s sake.” Namjoon countered with narrowed eyes. 

“Guys, it’s been years. I just thought it’d been too long, so I didn’t say anything.” You stopped them, sadly remembering the way communication dwindled out the more you all progressed in your life. 

“Look, you’re always welcomed, Y/N. You think I’d forget the girl who pulled an all-nighter just to edit my shitty final essay for English? I told you I’d write your name on my damn tombstone when I got an 80.” Seokjin laughed with a glass of eggnog, though supportive in his remark and it made you reminisce. 

“I have no clue to this day how you passed English on just Sparknotes. Jungkook hated English more than you and he still managed to actually read 1984.” You chastised him like old times, though now it was a memory that brought a smile to your face. 

“Look, I wasn’t interested in knowing the asshole motives of Big Brother and the 3-minute hate speech.” Seokjin defended himself. 

“2-minute, and it was still a good book.” 

“You’re telling me 60 pages of that dumb manifesto Winston found was good?” Taehyung perked up with crossed arms, quirking his eyebrows at you in incredulousness.  

“Oh c’mon, you learn the entire history of the Party and all their bullshit.” 

“And you’re still a nerd, I see.” Taehyung ticked his head to the side with his snarky remark. 

“Oh shut up, I got a better mark than you on the final essay anyway.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a nerd.” Taehyung countered. 

You gave a disapproving, scrutinizing look as you marched your way over to Jimin’s Christmas tree, comically gesturing to the Balsam Fir beside you. “I’m literally your Christmas present under the tree, Taehyung, you have to be nice to me.” You chastised him though it only made the boys looking on crack up. 

“Y/N, you’re still hilarious as fuck.” Hoseok was lighting up with laughter, his pretty giggles sounding in a way that honestly made you giggle in the end too, Taehyung only letting up because you were just so you, and it tugged at his heart strings.

“Speaking of Jungkook from earlier, where is he? I just remembered the math notes he owes me his life for.” You perked up, gauging his presence around in the condo. 

“He’s over there eating the chocolate chips, yah, Jungkook! Stop it!” Seokjin scolded from across the room where Jimin and Yoongi were bustling about in the kitchen, and you became confused hearing the mention of chocolate chips. 

“Chocolate chips? I mean, I’m not complaining, but that’s quite the eccentric choice for party food.” You held up your hands in mock surrender. 

“Oh, Taehyung didn’t tell you? It’s for the competition later.” Namjoon informed, though you only furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Competition?” 

“Yeah, baking competition. Jimin planned a couple’s one for his mistletoe theme. I’m beating all your asses, by the way. I’m a genius at decorating.” Hoseok folded his arms with a self-satisfied expression. 

“Please, my girlfriend and I hold weekly bake-offs, watch yourselves, losers.” Seokjin calmed everyone down with his own greatness, you simply becoming beyond excited. 

You turned to Taehyung in an instant, expression completely telling of wonder as you inquired with a high-pitched tone. “Tae, you didn’t tell me we were having a baking competition, that’s so cool!” You beamed, elatedly looking towards Jimin and Yoongi preparing ingredients.  

“Taehyung’s a cryptic one, remember?” Namjoon joked, trying to stifle a laugh with a hand over his mouth, and Taehyung immediately defended himself.

“Shut up, hyung.” He sounded offended, though the smile tugging at his lips indicated after years of friendship, he’d never actually grow vexed at his admirable friend. 

Taehyung then met your eyes, smile growing more apparent, warmer. “I told you it was to see the way your face would light up, didn’t I?” He tilted his head to the side then, eyes playfully studying you as he confirmed his observation. “Yup, your eyes totally still sparkle the same.” 

You couldn’t help but fill with another wave of fuzziness, feeling as though Taehyung always knew how to make your insides all giddy, and maybe even thinking what’s so wrong if your feelings really were coming back? 

You could only smile sheepishly at him, the rest of the boys knowingly watching the two of you like they have for years, everyone only falling out of the trance of the moment when Jimin’s voice called out from the kitchen.  

“Alright Martha Stewarts, who’s starting the ass-kicking?” 

“Hyung! That’s not fair, you can’t steal from us!” Jungkook scolded him as you watched the mania in front of you, Seokjin and his girlfriend Sa-Ha vs. Jungkook and his date Mira. It was becoming devastatingly hilarious, both teams only having 1 minute left until their cookies had to be plated in tip-top shape, all scrambling to create the best-looking ones. 

“I can and I will, you stole from us first!” Seokjin rebutted him, Jimin raising his voice to signal how much left time was. 

“30 seconds you guys, make it count!” And it was another catastrophic seconds until the timer went off, both teams exhausted and complaining all the same about their hard time fueled by Jin and Jungkook’s endless bickering. 

It was laughs for the few of you looking on, waiting your turns until Jimin’s date Song-i chose from the hat of pairings, your eyes going wide once she called out your name with Taehyung’s against Hoseok and his date. 

“Oh my God, Tae, that’s us!” You grabbed his arm alarmed, seeming nervous and it caused him to look at you. 

“Why are you so nervous? We’ll do great.” 

You scoffed at him in protest. “Taehyung, you did horrible in home ec, we’re gonna lose!” 

“Hey, I’ll make you jump for the ingredients, have some faith, will you?” Taehyung retorted, grabbing you by your hand and dragging you over to one of the two counters Jimin’s grand condo had to offer. 

“We’re taking you guys down on decorations, I’m a genius.” Hoseok gloated from his counter, tying his apron as he eyed you. 

“I have a curator on my team, Hobi, we’re beating you.” You scrutinized him with an angry pout as he stuck his tongue out, you whirling back around to adjust your apron. 

“Okay everyone, aprons on?” Jimin inquired, you having put on yours though watching Taehyung struggle with figuring out the apparently rocket-science contraption. 

You sighed with a laugh until you grabbed it from his hands, helping him out. “It’s like this, Tae.” You got on your tippy-toes to situate the apron around his neck as he bent down for you, the contrast of your heights always having made Taehyung a little weak. 

He was only left to watch you as you fixed the apron onto him, finding himself not even watching anymore, but straight up gazing, admiring. 

Admiring the way your eyes were always in a state of perpetual sparkle, your small lips he never forgot the amount of times he contemplated kissing, your dress revealing your collarbones and chest that beckoned for him to just tear it off, all weakening him even more so.

What made him even weaker, however, was noting the way you’ve matured into a woman after 6 years. 

A very beautiful, attractive woman. 

Your body had always been art to him, but now you were polished into a masterpiece he desired to adore, run his hands all over. Your face structure was more evened out, hair set to fall elegantly upon your shoulders and neck so utterly inviting it all added a sense of sexy maturity to you. 

It was distracting, Taehyung venturing off on the thought you were a woman now, not the innocent, sweet nerd he once knew, and it constantly began to rack his brain when he felt something course through his veins about it. 

Because you used to be so painfully innocent, so naturally a girl next door he couldn’t help but want to taint sometimes, to ruin and unravel for his own. He could even feel it with every time your smaller hands touched his body as you worked the apron guilelessly, wanting to snatch up your wrists instead and do unspeakable things, especially with that fucking dress on his mind. 

What made it all worse is that Taehyung could tell you only acted guileless, and never actually were. You also made your own suggestive comments, always caught his drift and he could tell you weren’t the innocent little thing you appeared to be. 

 Taehyung was so completely lost he heard you suddenly calling his name. 

“Taehyung, are you listening?” 

He blinked. “Huh?” 

“You have to listen to what I say, okay? Just follow my instructions and we’ll win against them.” You made little fists in the air to encourage him, Taehyung mimicking the action. 

“Y-yeah. I will, let’s do this.” You turned around after smiling sweetly, fixing some of the utensils on the counter and completely unsuspecting of Taehyung’s thoughts. 

That even after 6 years apart, after thinking he’d successfully forgotten about you, there was still something that pulled at his heart every time he saw you smile, every time you were ever near him. 

And he came to the conclusion maybe his feelings really haven’t changed from 6 years ago. 

“Taehyung, can you pass me the butter, please?” You asked urgently, whisking away at your bowl of almost-there cookie dough with Taehyung hovering around you as he watched. 

“Got it.” He returned with some of the butter, you struggling to scoop some of it until Taehyung reached out for the block. “Here, let me do it and you whisk.” 

“No, you’ll end up putting in too much. Let me do it.” You nudged him with your elbow, picking at the butter. 

“But you’re already whisking, just let me take it out.” Taehyung protested as he reached, though you blocked him right away.  

“No, Tae, remember we decided I’m on baking and you’re on decorating?” 

“Your job is way harder than mine and I’m useless right now, let me at least whisk.” Taehyung grabbed for the bowl until you snatched it away from him, already done with scooping the butter when the action caused some of the flour to fly up on your dress, gasping scandalously. 

“Taehyung!” You whined, Taehyung scrambling for a quick apology. 

“Oh fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Taehyung almost completed until a splash of flour went hurtling onto his shirt, causing him to look down with his mouth agape. “You did not just throw flour on my black turtleneck.” 

“You got flour on my black dress first, you tree.” Your eyebrows were set hard as you scolded him, still loosely whisking away at the cookie dough. 

“It was by accident, you half-pint.” Taehyung rebutted, trying to bat the flour off himself.

“Then mine was an accident too.” You mocked him, unsuspectingly whisking again when flour suddenly hit your chest, offended to find Taehyung snickering with it all over his hand. 

“That was an accident, too.” 

“You’re so...” You huffed out as you placed the bowl down and grabbed your own handful of flour, just about to throw it on Taehyung when is large palms came up to snatch your wrists, forcing your arms back as he snickered. 

“Taehyung, this is unfair!” You complained, struggling against his hold. 

“It’s an accident.” Taehyung mimicked with a genuine laugh watching you scramble in his hold, until the smile wiped off his face shortly after when you simply released the flour from your palm and it spilled all over his turtleneck. 

Your cheeks puffed up trying to contain your laughter, Jimin’s own giggling fit sounding and you remembered he was monitoring the competition. “Taehyung, you dumbass, you had that shit coming.” He held his stomach, entire body laughing at his best friend. 

You were giggling along with Jimin until Taehyung had had enough, licking his lips with mischief. 

“That’s it, come here.” He then spun you around and engulfed you with his arms from behind, holding you snug to his chest as you tried to escape him alarmingly, knowing what Taehyung was going to do next. 

“Taehyung please, wait, I beg of you, don’t!” And it was already too late when you felt his long fingers begin to tickle at your sides, your incessant protests melding with giggles along with his beautiful laughter filling the kitchen. 

You continued to fight against his hold, the constant feather-like touches making you reel and breath leave your lungs. “Taehyung, stop! Oh my God,” you struggled through a laugh while he nuzzled his face into your hair. “I’ll die, Taehyung, please!” 

“Nope, this is what you get.” Taehyung continued his onslaught as he held you tighter, you beginning to acquiesce in order to reason with him.  

“Okay, okay, look. We’re running out of time!” You tried controlling your laughter, tears pricking at your eyes as you tried to calm down. “We have to beat Hobi and Ah-yeong or else we’ll lose!” 

His amused voice sounded near your ear, still reprimanding you. “I’ll only stop if you say sorry.” 

“Alright, I’m sorry!” You were grabbing at his wrists for release. “I didn’t mean it, just stop tickling me!” You protested with a giggle until you felt his fingers rest, rather exchanging it for simply encasing you. 

“Good girl, you’re getting on Santa’s nice list.” Taehyung joked. 

You could only sigh as you resupplied oxygen to your lungs, moving towards the bowl. “Okay, let’s get back to work before we lose.” You puffed out air, breaths levelling as you returned to the counter and grabbed the whisk and bowl, only to find Taehyung hadn’t retracted his arms yet. 

He instead remained behind you, reaching for the utensils in your hands, his large ones grasping them along with you and the contrast of his broad body enclosing your smaller one made you feel something in your core.

Your eyes widened in surprised when his head unexpectedly found your shoulder, resting his chin there as he peered down at the bowl before you, you sputtering. “Taehyung, w-what are you doing?”

“Helping you, is there a problem?” The deep cadence of his voice was just by your ear, dangerous for your health. 

“N-no. But it’s okay, I’m fine on my own-” 

“Nope, this is the least I can do for you..” Taehyung’s tone seemed to trail off suddenly, having calmed down from his laughter and you found him speaking in earnest. “You’re my Christmas present I dragged all the way here with me, remember?” 

You could only smile sympathetically as you looked to your side, eyes welcomed by his gorgeous side profile on full display just centimeters from you. It made you realize just how close he was, his warmth engulfing you and it caused little sparks to fly inside your chest.  

“It’s not so bad, Taehyung. You’re just a good boy who needed his little Christmas present.” You teased light-heartedly, proud of your remark until Taehyung suddenly turned towards your ear, ghosting the shell of it with an unexpectedly darker tone, low and down right gruff.

“I’m not always a good boy.” He stated it simply, though the hot baritone in his words oddly left your spine cold, freezing over even more when Taehyung then wrapped his arms entirely around your torso, pulling your back to his chest. He did it so tightly you could suddenly feel your ass pressed to his covered length, oddly contradicting how couple-like you two probably appeared and it was goddamn intoxicating. 

You panicked at first but eventually basked in his hold, mustering the courage to speak with a suggestive tone. “I’m not always a good girl, either.” 

You threw it out there, cheeks slightly heating adding your own double entendre, though the way Taehyung suddenly tensed for a second had you feeling more confident, the puff of air he sucked in apparent. 

The conversation only ended with a satisfied hum from Taehyung as he watched you bake, a nice rumble that reverberated from his chest and into your back, feeling an odd arousal spike all the way down to your toes. 

It was already lethal with his pretty hands holding around your waist, the closeness an added thrill. It made your chest fill with something riveting, almost anticipatory of what all of this meant between you two, excited for wherever this night would truly go. 

It wasn’t long before it came time for Taehyung to plate and decorate the cookies, carefully placing his little embellishments he swore were the cream of the crop as you bickered with him, your incessant teasing resulting in you hugging him from behind while he worked. 

And Taehyung knew he was doomed the second he felt your very obvious chest press into his back, his nerves pumping carnally as he then felt a side of him he’s always hid from you escape its reigns. 

It was damn transparent Seokjin and his girlfriend would win, their exquisite baking and cooking skills having created masterpieces everyone dug into happily. It’d won them the choice of what movie everyone would watch tonight along with a dinner that the losers, surprisingly not you and Taehyung, but Namjoon and his date would have to pay for. 

Everyone was now seeking comfortable positions for the movie around the TV while you were last minute cleaning with Jimin in the kitchen, offering your help after the mess you and Taehyung made with your little flour mishap. 

Taehyung had properly gotten rid of the flour on his sweater, now lounging on an armchair in the living room with his phone in hand. You felt yourself glancing towards him more than you should’ve, reprimanding yourself each time though found yourself doing it nonetheless. 

It was just hard to keep your eyes off him when Taehyung was the epitome of a Greek God, questioning how such a being is allowed to walk among us commoners. His chiseled jawline was far too handsome for his own good, his neck sculpted so perfectly it left you you wondering what it would feel like to mark him up all over, and the way his long legs were manspreading before him was so inviting the sight alone made you figuratively drool. 

And fall even harder. 

You didn’t realize you were ogling until Jimin’s hushed voice pulled you out of your reverie. “You’re staring.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Jimin chuckled as he continued to wipe the counter one last time. “It’s been 6 years, why don’t you just say something?” 

“There’s nothing to say, Jimin.” You tried brushing him off, though Jimin didn’t buy it. 

“My ass, Y/N. You really think after what happened in the kitchen there’s nothing between you two?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just how Taehyung is.” You concocted an excuse, deflating as you did so.  

Jimin shook his head in disapproval. “It’s been like this since high school, Y/N, why didn’t you just tell Taehyung how you felt?” 

You looked at him in earnestly before softening into a sigh, knowing Jimin was really the only person you ever spilled your feelings for his best friend to. 

“Because I was scared, Jimin. You know how hard it was for me to even admit it to you.” You answered with a quiet voice, scrapping the flour you threw at Taehyung into the garbage. 

“But Y/N, you two... the way you are. What were you so afraid of?” Jimin’s sweet, pacifying voice asked, clearly having been rooting for you both ever since you fessed up. 

“Rejection, Mimi. Even if we’re like that...” You trailed, thinking over your relationship with Taehyung. “What if it’s all only a joke on his end? Taehyung has always been naturally flirty.. and we’re friends. I don’t think I’m any different than a conquest.” 

Jimin understood your point, though made it his own to advise you otherwise, washing out the cloth in the sink. “Y/N, that’s only what you believe.” His eyes told you of genuine support, offering like the comfort fairy he’s always been. “Just because you believe something, doesn’t make it true.” 

And that damn well hit home for you, realizing that maybe you’ve really been in your head too much about this, overthinking by creating doubts and excuses in your head to subdue your fear of confessing to Taehyung, to avoid the hurt of rejection but possibly missing an entire opportunity. 

“You should tell him, Y/N. It’s been long enough, you’ll never know how he feels if you don’t try.” 

You became apprehensive. “But how do you know if he’ll feel the same way?” Jimin could only chuckle to himself, his smile radiant as he found you the most innocent, yet funnily oblivious thing on Earth. 

“Look at the way he acts around you, Y/N.” Jimin advised. “He’s my best friend, and I’ve never seen him like that with anyone except you. Conquests are conquests, but you’re you, and that’s different to him.” 

Your mind instantly went into a frenzy, thinking well fuck, Jimin is Taehyung’s best friend, and he’s telling you that all this time Taehyung has never really enacted the same behaviour and energy with anyone expect you? This whole time? What does he mean you’re different? You’re.. different to him? Aren’t you just his female friend he’s known since ninth grade, and so surely there’s nothing but the added value of history there, right? 

Right?

You were only left to digest Jimin’s words as you placed the dustpan back to its original spot, Jimin finishing up with the sink. The conversation ended there, Jimin guiding you back to the living room and nestling himself next to his date. You were distracted with Jimin’s suggestions until you walked into the space and realized there was nowhere for you to sit, the couples perfectly paired up and occupying all the available space. 

Your entrance is what made Taehyung snap his vision to you from his phone, watching your confused face contemplating where to sit until he whispered to you, motioning towards himself on the armchair furthest from the screen and tucked behind the other couches. “Y/N, come here.” 

You studied his placement, on a singular armchair with his lap very much open. You shivered at the sight, though protested in a hushed tone realizing the chair could really only fit him. “There’s nowhere for me to sit.” 

Taehyung then spread his legs a little further apart and tapped his thigh, revealing some space for you to sit.. on him. “You can sit here.” 

You were glad the lights were turned off, just so Taehyung didn’t have to see the blush that rose to your cheeks when you answered. “Um, o-okay.” 

You then ambled over to him in front of the rather comfy looking armchair, thanking God everyone was too distracted bickering over Seokjin’s movie choice to pay attention to you both. 

“Are you.. sure about this?” You managed to get out, mind going feral over the fact that one of your previous thoughts was actually manifesting itself, nearly chickening out. 

“Mhm, just sit on me.” Taehyung offered casually, his expression unreadable and ultimately making you doubt Jimin’s advice from before, realizing that Taehyung has always been a hard person to read, which is why you could never tell how he felt about you, shutting your trap about damn love confessions. 

You didn’t respond and rather tentatively made it to the take your seat, the seat that was Taehyung’s fucking lap. You placed your ass on his thigh with your legs thrown over him, angling yourself so that the temple of your head rested against his shoulder. 

Though it proved to be lethal in seconds, his cologne now completely flooding your nostrils and the thin skirt of your dress leaving much of your clothed core feeling the muscle of his thigh. 

You felt Taehyung tense underneath for a second as you adjusted the skirt of your dress over your own thighs, smoothing it over properly as your hands then clasped in your own lap. 

Taehyung was glad you didn’t have the ability to read his mind, because the second he realized everyone was naturally pairing up to cuddle with their dates, it would only mean you two would have to do the same. So when you paddled over, standing before him in that cute dress he’s been wanting to tear off you this entire party, he was more than thrilled to offer his lap as your seat. 

But when you actually sat on him, your ass and hints of your core against his thigh with your tempting legs draped over him, he was continuously beginning to think dangerously, salaciously. 

He tried to keep his breathing leveled, though the second he felt you adjust against him and your covered center press onto him, he knew he would never survive whatever fucking movie everyone eventually settled on. 

When it finally began to play, Taehyung snaked his arms around your waist and held you to him, feeling your breath hitch for the tiniest second before you relaxed. 

And it damn well thrilled him. 

The movie was beginning to progress now, Taehyung and yourself in the same comfortable position until you yawned and snuggled more into him, a hand coming up to drape across his chest and head finding shelter closer into his neck. 

Taehyung tensed again, feeling every breath you took with the weight of your smaller body on top of him, mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t keep quiet anymore. 

And especially when you shifted your ass a little against his leg, he twitched with something so much more carnal, blood pumping somewhere it shouldn’t and this time, Taehyung didn’t really feel like holding back anymore. 

His hands suddenly faltered, his palms coming to singularly rest against one of your thighs, clasping it slightly. He knew there was nothing but your leg with only pantyhose as a barrier for your skin, sending currents through his veins thinking you could definitely feel his every touch. 

You nearly jolted when Taehyung’s hands met the meat of your thigh, the placement shooting more arousal through you than it should’ve. 

You were calm until Taehyung suddenly inched his hand towards the inner part of your thigh, making your core clench and hand clutch his sweater to contain the electricity it sent. 

You’ve always had such dirty thoughts about what Taehyung’s hands could do, the slenderness and length of his fingers always revving your imagination. So to have his fingers just on the inside of your thigh, sitting in his lap as he seemed to be teasing, was enough to send your brain spiraling. 

Your scandalous thoughts made you shift against him to experimentally feel the friction, your core grinding against his thigh for a moment and Taehyung’s breath immediately hitched. His grip on you tightened and his hold tensed, had you suppressing the feeling of making a sound. 

He slid more inward, closer to the prize he was seeking and you could only hide your face into the junction of his neck at the way your pussy felt butterflies. It made you squish your thighs together to feel something, and God fuck, was the tension between you two so searing you could feel it radiating off Taehyung’s body. 

It’s what made whispering slowly against him flow easily, quiet so as not to alarm anyone in the living room. 

“I thought you were a good boy, Tae. What are you doing?” Your voice was sultrier than you planned, and it wasn’t chastising him at all, rather teasing for something more. 

You could only feel the rise and fall of Taehyung’s chest underneath you as he contained himself, the cuddling leaving you to feel his every micro-movement when he responded. 

“I thought you were a good girl, what are you doing?” Taehyung’s voice was low and deep, the vibration coursing through your body and it only invited you to become hornier. 

“Guess I’m not a good girl after all.” 

Taehyung made a sound as though scoffing, dangerous in its tone. 

“Guess I’m not a good boy, either.” And just after, Taehyung inched his fingers even closer to your clothed core, making the slightest of contact on your slit through the material of your dress and you practically twitched in his hold, sucking in a breath as you clasped onto the fabric of his shirt. 

“You have no idea..” Taehyung suddenly spoke up, voice laden with something hungry, hot. “what I’ve always thought about doing to you.” 

You could only jolt in his lap, more of his cologne meeting your nose and it caused you to suppress a sound by stuffing your face into his neck. “What.. have you thought about?” 

Taehyung then suddenly cupped your sex over your clothes, making you grapple onto his neck and bite back a moan so hard you had to breathe through your nose. 

“How I want to ruin you.” Taehyung’s low baritone and rough palm rubbing teasingly against your now aching pussy left you gushing, arousal racking the bottom of your stomach you were almost afraid of how easy it was for him. 

Your breath was shallower now, trying to compose yourself by egging him on. “You’d want to ruin an innocent girl like me?”

“I know you’re not innocent, princess.” Taehyung asserted with the slightest growl to his tone, thankful your seat was positioned behind the rest of the others so nobody could see what was going on. 

“Only when it comes to you.” Your seductive voice beckoned lust to course through Taehyung, breathing out hot air. “What else?” You suddenly croaked out. 

Taehyung hummed lowly into your ear, his palm smoothing over your cunt in ways that had you screwing your eyes shut. “How I want to make you beg.” He purposefully pressed harder against your clit, had you scratching into the column of his throat. “Make you scream my name.”   

You gushed your arousal even more, breathless with your words. “I bet you say that to everyone.”

Taehyung chuckled dismissively, dipping his head lower to whisper darkly into your ear. 

“I only say that to pretty little things I want to ruin, and you’re the prettiest little thing I know.” 

Your breath came out in a weighty puff, sighing satisfyingly against him as you snaked your hand from his neck down to the hardening length in his pants. You grazed your palm over his clothes and he twitched almost violently, biting back his hiss with a strong grip against your thigh with his free hand. You grew proud, speaking up when it boosted your ego. 

“I’d love to see you try.” 

And that was when the pads of Taehyung’s fingers pressed into your clothed cunt so euphorically you were seconds from letting out a moan, Taehyung cupping his palm over your mouth to silence you. 

“Shh.” Taehyung sounded by your ear. “Can’t let everyone hear my girl, now can I?” He hushed you huskily, leaving you to sigh your arousal into his large palm and eternally grateful the movie’s volume was loud enough to mask your talking.

Taehyung then began the slowest circular ministrations on your clit, shooting continuous pleasure through your body as you clutched your hand onto his wrist holding your mouth, urgently trying to suppress moans he was easily milking out of you. 

It felt like sparks, continuous sparks in your covered pussy as Taehyung rubbed against your folds, gliding down to your slit and teasing your throbbing hole. 

The mere prospect of his fingers shoving inside you made you wet beyond comprehension, only digging little crescents into his forearm with muted moans. It was sickening how easily he had you turned on, how easily you were getting riled up by just his fingers, and so you mustered the strength to lightly stroke his cock over his pants as revenge.

Taehyung then put pressure against your clenching hole as punishment, shoving your face into his neck when he teased your entrance and squishing his hand between your thighs with his other urging them open. 

“Look at you,” Taehyung growled. “all fucked out just by my fingers.” He whispered darkly into your ear, the vibration of his baritone voice once again sending you into overdrive. “They’re not even inside you yet.” 

The ‘yet’ had you restless, body grinding against him and this time it was Taehyung trying suppress a satisfied groan. 

“If my fingers have you like this, imagine my-” 

“Oh c’mon! That’s not even realistic!” Seokjin suddenly shouted at the screen, startling you and Taehyung. 

“Jin, calm down. It’s just a feel-good Christmas movie.” Yoongi cautioned him. 

“How the fuck does the kid just free the burglar from the cop car? It’s damn common sense.” Seokjin complained about the scene from Christmas with the Kranks, having been unsatisfied with the movie since the beginning. 

“Baby, why’d you choose this movie?” He whined to his girlfriend Sa-Ha, her feigning innocence as she defended herself. 

“It’s almost over, Jinnie. Just sitand watch.” 

And that’s when Taehyung ripped his hands off you, leaving you to breathe out ruggedly for a few seconds before your vision looked up at Taehyung’s, mutually shocked at what the fuck just happened.

You’ve never done something like that before, and as your scared sights looked back at each other, you could only think you were both under some sort of horney trance that swept you two into uncharted waters. 

It made you divert your eyes from Taehyung immediately, your mind going blank. 

Taehyung was left hard and extremely turned on, though began dissipating once he couldn’t fathom he went that far with you so quickly, his brain having been clouded by lust he should’ve kept in check.

And with the way you looked at him, panicked and snapping your vision away in an instant, he doesn’t know if he just made a grave mistake. 

You both became shameful, swallowing dryly as your attentions fixated back onto the screen, thinking about what just transpired. 

There was this incessant feeling in both your chests contemplating there was something more, clearly more between you two. 

And it was downright fearful. 

“Yah, why are you guys leaving so early? C’mon! There’s still half the eggnog left.” Seokjin pouted from across the room, sadly chugging his drink as the others hummed in agreeance. 

“Yeah, c’mon guys. It’s the holidays, let’s all spend it together, sleep over for the fuck of it!” Hoseok chimed in what you could tell was an inebriated state, practically swaying as he talked and the lilt in his tone ever-so cheery. 

“Um, excuse me? Sleep over? Nobody’s doing that.” Jimin shoot him down from where he stood near you and Taehyung, scolding his friends with crossed arms. “If they want to leave they’re allowed, we already made Y/N abandon her Christmas for us.” 

“It’s alright, Jimin. I missed you guys too, I wanted to come.” You offered sentimentally, hand touching his elbow to let him up and he eased. 

“Since you’re officially back in town, we’re never leaving you alone again, Y/N!” Namjoon called out from the living room, engrossed in whatever was playing on the TV. 

“Yup, seriously not going to leave you alone.” Yoongi hummed with half-lidded eyes, near falling asleep on the couch. 

“I still owe you for those math notes, expect me becoming your Genie for a day!” Jungkook called out from the kitchen, most likely munching on the treats everyone crafted during the competition earlier. 

“Of course, I’ll see you guys! Merry Christmas!” 

“Merry Christmas!” Everyone cheered, their dates similarly adding on. 

You then brought your attention back to Jimin, seeing you and Taehyung out as the wonderful host of today’s party. “Thank you for the party, Jimin, it was amazing.” 

“Yeah.” Taehyung perked up next to you, apologetic he was so negligent of the party in the first place. “It was seriously fun, Jimin, I’m sorry I acted like it wasn’t a big deal before.” 

“Nah, don’t sweat it.” Jimin casually waved him off. “Dude, you could text me a Merry Christmas and I’d be alright, you know us.” Jimin smiled reassuringly, right on your toes when Taehyung and yourself stepped into his front foyer.  

You were both fixing on your shoes just before Jimin’s door when he spoke up again. “It was great having you guys, and even better having you, Y/N, come here.” Jimin held out his arms for a warm hug, you returning it merrily. “You’re always welcomed here with us, visit anytime you want.”

“Thanks, Jimin, it really means a lot.” Your grateful eyes found his once you disconnected. 

“We’ll get going now, thank you again, Jimin.” Taehyung for some odd reason placed an arm around your shoulder, pulling you two a little closer and you simply accepted the action, trying not to read into it. 

“Of course.” Jimin replied. “Though one last thing, you remember the theme of this party, right?” Jimin asked you both, you and Taehyung similarly responded with knitted eyebrows. 

“Yeah?” 

“Well look up, lovebirds.” Jimin cocked his head upwards towards the ceiling, casually leaning against the corridor of his entrance when you and Taehyung glanced up, innocently viewing the little mistletoe dangling above your heads, eyes reflecting the realization of what Jimin was conveying. 

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Jimin added with a purposefully hushed, knowing tone. He was just about turning away until he called out in caution. “Oh, careful driving, by the way. I just heard the snow got bad.” And with that, Jimin left nothing but his sweet cologne in the air when he disappeared.

You and Taehyung shuffled about a little, not exactly daring to exchange gazes when the air became all stuffy. 

You were both mutually pondering what the absolute hell to do in this moment. Do you kiss? Do you not kiss? Do you awkwardly try to address what happened earlier after silently agreeing with your dicey body language to never speak of it again? Or hell, do you damn well take Jimin’s advice and just flat out tell him you’ve always had feelings for him? 

Wait. 

Jimin’s advice. 

It came back to you, thinking Jimin was actually extremely wise in what he said. You took to his words into consideration, studying some of the little things Taehyung did around you, from the things he uttered all the way down to the simple way he even looked at you, contemplating something, just something had to be there.

But then maybe, just maybe you could also chalk it up to his naturally flirtatious behaviour you’ve always observed, always habitually affectionate with people and that’s what’s always made him so easily lovable in the first place, what made Taehyung a boy who was born to be loved. 

And he was tricky, his expressions and feelings always indistinguishable with the composed, nuanced way he carried himself especially now, convincing you reading him was a lost cause. 

Though as you glanced at Taehyung right now, visibly nervous, his usually schooled face and unreadable expression now indicating nerves, awkwardness you two have never really experienced between each other before, you decided maybe you should stop making excuses. 

Stop avoiding signs and doubting his every move and burying your feelings so deep underground, that maybe you should just fucking take your leap of faith already. 

So you stepped closer to him, your figure almost laughably smaller compared to him, and watched as his pretty eyes brightened in surprise at you. 

It only took a few seconds, for your lips to curve reassuringly, for your soft hands to cup his face delicately against the edge of his sharp jaw. To get on the tip of your toes and bring your lips to Taehyung’s, pressing a heartfelt kiss to mouth. 

A kiss so very soft and tender, it was like teenagers kissing for the very first time, and it made you giggle on the inside, thinking that’s exactly how your entire ordeal has felt like; your two teenage selves trying to navigate whatever feelings lied between you. 

Taehyung was shocked, having been silently berating himself for being too bold too quickly and thinking his abandonment of chivalry in that instance was wrong, the air between you having been tainted with a sense of unspoken, though apparent awkwardness for the rest of the party. 

But now, now you were kissing him, and for the first time, his insides leaping at just the prospect. It felt like a damn dream, though the press of your mouth against his confirmed it was in fact real, that it was gladly his sweet reality. 

That after years of imagining what it would feel like, he’s kissing the girl he’s loved since the second he saw her hair glow in the rays of the sunset, the minute he realized she wasn’t just pretty, but beautiful to him, the hour he’d witness the moonlight kiss her skin when she stayed up with him on sleepless nights, leading all the way up to the year he realized she’d leave him, so soon, so fucking soon it absolutely crushed him. 

And Taehyung wouldn’t admit it you, but your departure left his heart ravaged for quite possibly years, continuously overthinking how different things would’ve been if he just told you. Told you how he felt, told you that behind every innuendo, behind every hug, every tease, every stupid smile he flashed your way, that there was love behind it all. 

Pure, unadulterated love. 

He regretted it for months, for years thinking he’d truly lost the greatest opportunity in his life having let you go without protest, without fighting for you like he should’ve. 

It hurt, it hurt until he’d eventually grown accustomed to the ache in his heart whenever he saw that same plaid pattern on anyone else, reminded of the jacket you wore to school everyday. The way he found himself subconsciously comparing nearly every girl he dated to you, how on rainy days and quiet nights, he sometimes wondered where you were, what you were doing, if you were awake at this time of night like he usually was, remembering the way the moonlight always seemed to love you, just like he loved you. 

And he still did, Taehyung thought. He still loved you, now feeling your lips kiss him, your adorable height making you tippy-toe, the gentle way you held his face comforting. 

Your lips then disconnected, Taehyung seeing your gaze was warm, something so reminiscent of affection, adoration in your eyes, and he thought in that one, singular moment that maybe, just maybe... 

You loved him too. 

“Fuck, this snow is bad.” Taehyung swore as he gauged any clear path of the road ahead.

“I hate to admit this, but the group was right. It was probably better staying at Jimin’s.” You sighed, worried about the amount of damn white you were seeing blanket the world outside. 

“I thought if we left early we could escape it, but shit, mother nature is always so fickle.” He complained. 

“It’s her charm, unfortunately.” You shrugged, realizing there was truly no way for you to get home now. “It’s early too, the snow ploughs won’t clear the roads just yet.” There was suddenly a concerned lilt to your tone as you peered ahead, gripping Taehyung’s arm and it grabbed his attention. “It’s getting dangerous too, Tae. I don’t want you driving in this.” 

Taehyung was glad he had the gifted ability of hiding his emotions, because right now he would’ve been embarrassingly over the moon. He smiled back to you reassuringly, then contemplated an alternative.

“Would you.. rather come to my place?” Taehyung inquired, biting his lip once he realized he stupidly stuttered. 

You blinked. “What?” 

“Well, my place is much closer, and it’d be less dangerous driving there. You can just stay until they clear the roads.” Taehyung relayed casually, expectant eyes on you as his hands tapped against the steering wheel. 

Your face slowly turned into an appreciative smile, taken aback by his act of kindness, but also felt something exciting tickle the bottom of your stomach. 

“Sure, I’d love that.” 

Taehyung shut the door of his apartment as you removed your boots, shredding stray snowflakes off his jacket when he spotted similar ones on yours, his hands naturally jutting out to rid the tiny icicles off you. 

You turned around at his touch, thanking him and he smiled a welcome back. He’d taken your jacket just like before and tucked them away into his closet, gesturing towards his living room for you to get comfortable. 

“Make yourself at home, do you want water or anything?” 

“Yeah, actually. Water would be nice.” Taehyung nodded as he made for his kitchen, you tucking the skirt of your dress underneath you as you took your humble seat on his couch. 

His home was so painfully Taehyung, it had you smiling like an idiot he was still the same. The same introspective Taehyung who adored art and photography, the same Taehyung who absolutely hated shoes and you could tell just by the way he abandoned them earlier he still had the same habit. Even to the way his house reflected this artistic, calming, and nuanced feeling he similarly had.

It drew you to admire some of the pieces draping his walls, when Taehyung returned with a glass of water, handing it to you as he plopped down on the couch. “Here.” 

“Thank you.” You took the glass, gulping down some of the liquid for your parched throat. 

“Your apartment is nice.” 

“Thanks.”

You then both sat in silence for a short while, tapping the edge of the glass in your hand as you scanned the rest of his charming home. The silence wasn’t awkward considering the past events of today, just a silence in its definition. 

“I still can’t believe I ran into you at a coffee shop.” Taehyung suddenly remarked, looking off at his table in front with a smile tugging his lips. 

You chuckled. “Why? Too meet-cute for you?” 

“No.” He chuckled too. “It’s just, I really thought it was the end when you left after graduation.” Taehyung paused for a poignant moment, air heavy with something as you watched him muster the courage to say something else. 

“I thought I’d never see you again.” 

He claimed it with such a sense of sadness, sense of longing that reminded you of how upset you also were that day, the rampant emotions that came crashing down realizing you were leaving behind an entire life. 

“Me too.” You added with a similarly downcast tone. “I thought I’d never see you again, either.” 

Taehyung then looked at you, eyes meeting your gaze. “I’m glad that wasn’t true.” Something lingered behind his words, something incredibly thick and telling, though you deflected it with a joke to lighten the air. 

“I’m glad you didn’t delete my PowerPoints, either.” You snickered, hand coming up to cover your mouth, “I used to put a lot of work into them.”

Taehyung scoffed playfully, smiling through a chuckle as he responded. “I didn’t have the heart to. You were so passionate about your hatred for fruit on pizza.” 

“I still am.” You added. “Do you really have them?” 

“Yeah, I do. Let me show you.” Taehyung then pulled out his phone from his pocket, clicking away on the device as he scooted closer to you and leaned in, you similarly doing so and peering at a Google Drive folder of your wonderfully crafted presentations.

“Oh my God, I thought you were joking.” You snorted, snickering at the hilarious folder name; ‘Y/N says Fuck Hawaiian Pizza: the Saga’

“Nope, couldn’t delete them even if I was dared to.” Taehyung laughed with you, both of your eyes naturally falling as he shut off his phone, the conversation shifting. 

“You know, I never actually hated it that much.” You admitted sheepishly. “I just liked annoying you and wasting 5 minutes of your day with every presentation.” 

Taehyung looked scandalized at first, mouth falling agape until he ultimately let it go, admitting something of his own. “You know, I never actually needed your history notes. I just liked being annoying about stealing them so you always had to chase me down.” Taehyung’s smile was suddenly impish, shy as he fixated on fiddling with his slender fingers. 

“After all that running I always did after you too? Jheez, you’re the reason I have strong calves now.” 

“And you’re the reason I’m really good at presentations now.” You both chuckled together, the old days coming back in bouts until your mood changed, remembering Jimin’s advice from earlier. 

As you looked at Taehyung, while he didn’t look at you, you could only help but find every reason in the world to listen to Jimin. Because Taehyung was Taehyung, he was the Taehyung that stole your heart with his boxy grin, the Taehyung who made every other man seem like an unappealing idiot you wanted nothing to do with, the same Taehyung who’s heart was made of love, and you wanted nothing but to return to him the love he gifted the world.

Because you loved Taehyung, no matter how much you’ll try to deny it, you still love him. All his smiles and giggles and soft hair and his sometimes coltish, though endearing ways of being himself. All his hard expressions and intimidating eyes and handsome looks and the way he holds a universe of stars in his old soul.  

So your next words flowed, flowed more fluently than anything ever has in your life. 

“You know,” You paused, eyes faltering to the glass in your hand. “I think, for the majority of high school... I had a crush on you, but I never said anything because I thought you wouldn’t want me.” 

And there came the silence, the piercing, God awful silence you were so afraid of and so sure was spelling your doom. You didn’t dare look up from your glass now, downright terrified he was probably pulling the most confused face ever, and his silence was deafening. It had you contemplating the best way to jump out his window, he was only, what, 14 stories up? A human can survive a fall that high, right? 

“You wanna know something?” Taehyung suddenly broke the silence, his deep, dulcet voice sounding beautifully in his apartment, and your eyes widened the second he opened his mouth next. 

“I think I was in love with you for the majority of high school, but I didn’t say anything because I thought you never felt the same way.” And that’s when everything clicked, when your eyes widened in revelation, when it suddenly felt like the 6 years you spent battling your feelings for him was nothing but a sad joke. 

Because this moment, alone, made you realize you two had the same hearts all along. 

“You wanna know something?” You swallowed hard, eyes still on your glass as it shifted in your hand mindlessly. “I think... I’m still in love with you.” 

You couldn’t see Taehyung, because you didn’t dare look at him at a time like this. You just sat there, breathing as leveled as you could until you felt Taehyung shift on the couch. He’d moved closer, closing the small gap between you both, beckoning you to finally look at him and that’s exactly what you did. 

He spoke low, deep and low and it had your toes curling at just how proximal he was, his beautiful eyes gazing at you like you meant the universe and more to him. 

And little did you know, you really did. 

“I think..” He started, gripping the glass of water from your hands and placing it onto his coffee table. “I’m still in love with you, too.” 

And your heart was set ablaze in a matter of seconds, your tentative eyes finding Taehyung’s as he leaned in, large palms on either side of your body as he inched closer, closer, and closer, until all he could see were your lips, jutting his face forward until his lips just brushed yours. 

You chased his mouth a little, fluttering your eyes shut and Taehyung couldn’t help but smile before finally, finally pressing his lips to yours. 

His mouth kissed you slow at first, slow and steady and it was intoxicating just like this. He constantly chased your lips, mouthing at them sensually and it was driving you insane, just the taste of his lips with a hint of wine on his breath shooting electricity to your core. 

His hands moved to your sides, wrapping around your rib cage as he leaned you back onto the couch and laid on top of you. His body covered you as far as you could see, your dainty hands coming up to find his jawline and pull him against your lips fervently.

He slowly grew more passionate, smoothing over your sides as he mouthed for more of you, swallowing the little moans you made that vibrated through his body and it only revved is engine more. 

Taehyung was taken, completely taken by how much he wanted you that he could only see you, could only think about all the dirty but soft and tender and passionate things he wanted to do to you. 

One of his hands travelled underneath your thigh, pulling your leg up against him as he pressed his hips into your core, his hardening cock prodding you through his clothes once he started a gentle rocking motion. 

Your hands travelled up his beautiful neck and tangled into his hair as you reciprocated. A slight tug left him groaning into your mouth, causing you to buck up into him harshly and it sent Taehyung’s mind into a dangerous place. 

His breathing elevated against you, gripping your ribs so urgently it only made you pull him closer, arch your chest into his just so you could relish in the feeling. Your heart was thrumming in your chest, veins coursing with adrenaline so white hot it wasn’t long before you were moving desperately with Taehyung and it fueled your horny nerves.

Taehyung suddenly disconnected his mouth from you, breathing so shallow his chest was rising and falling fast. He was only centimeters above as he looked down at you, his eyes boring into yours with such a prominent sense of longing, want, pure desire, it took him no time to speak. 

“Do you know how long..” He took a breath. “I’ve wanted to do that?” 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?” You replied, hands now smoothing over his shoulders to feel him, his body raging hot as he laid on top of you, looking at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted. 

“Fuck, we’re so stupid.” Taehyung quickly said before his mouth crashed onto yours. This time there was something carnal in his kiss, something urgent and hot and it only made you pull him closer for more. 

His tongue began to lick over your lips, slithering inside your mouth and the taste of him was euphoric, making you tangle your tongue with his just to taste him over and over again, until it was safe to say your tongues were down each other’s throats. 

He kissed you sloppily, kissed until he was consuming you, his fingers digging into your thigh and side so fervently you knew there’d be marks, and it made your spine shiver, even more so when he spoke again. 

“The minute.. I saw you in that dress..” He breathed out, kissing in between the exhaustion of his lungs. “I wanted to rip it off you.” 

You groaned desperately at his confession, wanting Taehyung in ways that were so utterly carnal, almost feral, your entire being wanting to consume every inch of him, lay a million kisses across his honey-coloured skin and hear his caramel voice whisper into your ear, and so it didn’t take long for you to voice your desire. 

“Taehyung..” You sighed, a satisfied lilt to your tone and it only lit Taehyung on fire. 

“Mm?” He hummed, licking into your mouth on a quest for everything inside, his hips now grinding into your clothed cunt so harshly he was practically dry humping you, and without a second thought you were moving yourself against him too, hands exploring his broad chest. 

“Taehyung..” You were more urgent, and it made Taehyung grunt harshly. “Rip it off me, Tae, unwrap me like you said you would.” You started harshly tugging at his offensive shirt, tracing the column of his throat as you relished in his delicious kisses. 

And it all made Taehyung move so much harder, so much more roughly you were moaning into his mouth at the press of his hard, long cock against your aching core. 

“Ruin me, Taehyung.” You scratched your nails against his neck, swallowing him into your mouth as you talked. “I want you to ruin me.” 

“Fuck,” Taehyung swore, his length beginning to prod you so much more apparently as you bucked your hips up into him, it was sending Taehyung down the proverbial hole. And when you let out another gorgeous moan of his name, he knew he was a goner. 

“Fuck, I can’t do this anymore.” 

Taehyung then harshly grabbed your wrists and forced them against the couch in a single motion, eyes growing dark with heat radiating of his body in waves. He darted to the underside of your jaw and kissed hard, began mouthing at your skin until he travelled to the junction of your neck, sucking over the sensitive skin so rampantly it had you squirming underneath him, desperately trying to feel him against your core. 

His pretty purple marks began blooming onto your neck, evidence of his raw desire for you, the years he spent longing for you. His teeth were nipping your skin, tongue licking over the bites as he pressed your wrists further into the couch the more you resisted. 

You breath hitched when he moved to the slightly exposed valley of your breasts, making your nipples harden at just the prospect of his mouth travelling there. You began fighting his hold, causing you to arch into him as something dawned on you. 

“Taehyung.. your shirt.” You whined, trying to manage the pleasure of his mouth canvasing your skin. 

Taehyung left you for a mere second to shred off the annoying piece of clothing, tossing it aside as he returned to you urgently, your legs hooking around his torso as he came back to you. 

His mouth was sucking hickeys onto your chest again when his hands began to smooth down your sides, so sensually purposeful until he reached underneath the hem of your dress, hooking onto the waistline of your pantyhose and panties, tugging teasingly. 

Your core ignited at just his touch against bare skin, gushing as your hips harshly grinded against his body and your hands smoothed over the lean muscle of his body. 

He yanked the pieces of clothing down the curve of your ass, proceeding to pull them past your thighs as you unhooked your legs to help take them off you. 

The rush of the cold against your wet pussy lips made your breath hitch beautifully, one of Taehyung’s hands moving your skirt to let his large, warm palm cup your sex so pleasurably the contrast of the size of his hand and your little cunt sent you both ablaze. 

“You’re so small, think you can take me, good girl?” Taehyung breathed against your chest. “I’ll fuck up your insides.” His baritone voice was dark and low as he warned you, sent arousal spiking through your nerves as you groaned. 

“Fuck up my insides, Tae.” You desperately moaned out, hands finding Taehyung’s hair as he continued to lay searing kisses to your hot skin, his fingers rubbing your dripping folds harshly. “I just.. I need you, Taehyung, so fucking badly.” 

“Say it again.” Taehyung hissed, exposing one of your bare breasts from your dress and pressing his tongue against a perched nipple, the wet sensation so satisfying you were scratching his shoulder blades. 

“I-I need you, Taehyung.” 

“Need me where?” He growled as he pressed against your clit and circled it, collecting your slick and spreading it all over yourself. 

And it was hard, so fucking hard to think straight with your bare, soaking wet pussy was rubbing against Taehyung’s rough fingers and his lips sucking your exposed nipple for dear life, the pleasure burning inside you so hot your voice was coming out in choked moans. 

“Need you inside, Taehyung.” You gasped out. “So empty without you, so fucking empty, for so long.” 

“God, fuck.” Taehyung groaned proudly, popping off your breast to look at your half-lidded eyes, his own blown out with his hair mussed and lips swollen pink. He returned to your lips again as his hands simultaneously hooked underneath your thighs and suddenly lifted you off the couch, your legs secured around his torso as he walked you into what you assumed was his bedroom. 

Your core rubbed against the buckle of Taehyung’s belt as he walked and you gushed oceans, the cool metal providing such delicious friction you were moaning satisfyingly into Taehyung’s mouth, grinding against him for more. 

His kiss was fervent even when he splayed you onto his covers, back hitting the bed as you stroked your hands over his beautiful bare chest. 

Taehyung suddenly came off you, eyes going wild as he looked down at your panting figure underneath him, then your offensive dress. 

“Fuck this thing.” Taehyung nearly ripped it from your body, shredding the pretty fabric off and simply basked in the glory of seeing your naked body for the very first time. 

Taehyung’s eyes filled with pure wonder, the moonlight and reflection of white snow falling outside adding a glow to your skin he couldn’t help but marvel at, your curves so beautiful he wanted to run his hands all over, the purple of his marks left on you only making him blossom with more arousal, more passion. 

“Holy shit, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Taehyung’s face was so blown away, you couldn’t help but grow a little shy, bringing him close to you by his neck so you could breathe into his ear. 

“Good, I hear you ruin them.” 

Taehyung could only smirk, rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek, cock twitching at just your words. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

Taehyung trailed one hand down your body, momentarily wrapping it around your throat until it was gliding over your nipple and down to your core, lining the lips of your pussy so teasingly you were reeling. 

The pads of his fingers smoothed over your pussy lips again, applying pressure to your clit that had you lurching, until he used the opportunity to slide two fingers into your aching hole with ease. 

“You’re so fucking wet, dripping all over my fingers.” He growled into your ear as he laid himself on top of you, his free hand holding your face while the other worked your core. 

The sharpness of his long, slender fingers were euphoric, causing you to moan loudly. You could see his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his slacks almost painfully, and you jutted your hand out to begin palming him generously. 

Taehyung could finally hiss as loud as he wanted, screwing his eyes shut in sheer pleasure. 

He began pumping you faster in response, sliding in and out so deliciously you were moaning incessantly against his mouth as he began kissing you again. Your breasts were pressing into Taehyung’s bare chest the more you arched yourself, closing the offensive gap between you both and the skin to skin contact sending you both to cloud nine. 

“Taehyung..” You moaned in between kisses, so shameless about your desire for him you only wanted to know his name. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Fucking hell, that does shit to me.” Taehyung began thrusting harshly into your hole now as punishment, practically finger-fucking you against his bed till it made your walls clamp down on him, trap his slender fingers inside so you could feel every heavenly inch of them.

You became hungry for more, your hand grabbing at Taehyung’s straining cock harder and the strangled groan that left his lips was so fucking beautiful, your insides were screaming. 

“Shit, Taehyung,” You moaned out breathlessly. “You’re so hot like this, so fucking hot. Fuck me, fuck me like you said you would. ” 

Taehyung’s breaths turned heavy and hungry, his cock aching to be inside you so painfully he was going insane at your every word. 

“Fuck. I’m fucking you into next week. I’m fucking you until you only know my name. Fucking you until you know how badly I’ve wanted you, until your legs are shaking and you feel me in your throat.” 

“Then do it.” You nearly cried out, hands fumbling with the waistband of Taehyung’s pants. Your pussy was aching so excruciatingly around Taehyung’s fingers your slick was gushing from you, all over him and it only made Taehyung feral thinking about what would happen if it were his dick instead. 

“Fucking do it, Taehyung, fuck me until I’m shaking.” 

Taehyung flipped his switch and suddenly shoved his fingers so deep inside you, scissoring you completely open it made you lurch up in searing pleasure. His large palm grabbed underneath your head and positioned you upwards, able to angle his fingers so he could smash them inside you so harshly it was pathetic it wasn’t even his dick that had you high, but just his fingers. 

“Holy fuck, Taehyung!” 

“Cum all over my fingers, pretty. I wanna hear you.” Taehyung growled into your ear, couldn’t help but think about your walls convulsing around his dick and it was euphoric hearing you moan, all fucked out underneath him. 

He couldn’t stop finger-fucking you like his life depended on it, wanted to fill you up in so many ways you’d remember him for weeks. 

You were almost there, the edge so close. It was racking the bottom of your stomach, had your toes curling and walls pounding so snug around Taehyung’s fingers you could only latch onto the nape of his neck for dear life. 

You felt it, felt it so near and had his name leaving your mouth in such an intoxicating mantra you were seconds from letting go. Seconds, milliseconds, just about to release your impending orgasm until Taehyung ripped his fingers out of you. 

You gasped scandalously at the loss, body buzzing with your unachieved high it made your exclaim come out in a garbled protest.  “Taehyung, what the fuck?!” 

You tried getting an answer, but Taehyung’s hungry, half-lidded eyes shut you up immediately, watching him lick his fingers like he was starved, like this was the sweetest honey he’s ever tasted. 

“Fuck, you taste as sweet as you look.” Taehyung’s grin was evil, and it made you turned on but pissed he denied your orgasms. 

“You’re so-” You attempted to get out, but Taehyung suddenly flipped you onto all fours in a second, your hands and knees anchored onto the bed with only your shocked figure confused. 

“T-Taehyung, what are you-” You then sighed at the sudden touch of his tongue meeting your weeping hole in a devilish swipe. It was intoxicating, feeling his wet muscle begin licking into your core and tasting your soaked folds from behind. 

“I’m doing what you asked..” His voice was dark and weighty, and that’s when you suddenly felt another sensation of his two fingers returning to your throbbing entrance. Your insides buzzed when he spoke against your core, grittier than he ever has all night. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” 

And his tongue suddenly slithered into your hole when he removed his fingers, licking into your entrance in a harsh rhythm as his palms began grabbing at your ass, kneading the meaty flesh as he straight up devoured your pussy like it was the only thing he’s wanted his entire life. 

His tongue was lapping you fervently, so starved your dissipated orgasm was coming back again. You were winded, having never been eaten out like this and you were moaning his name loud enough to get noise complaints filed to the police. 

“Taehyung!” You cried out, though he didn’t let up. Instead he brought one of his hands to your pulsing clit, circling and applying so much necessary pressure you were losing your mind, insane off the fact he hadn’t even filled you up with his cock yet and you were pathetic underneath him. 

“Fucking God, Taehyung, Tae!” And when he groaned so audibly into your pussy, rutting himself against the bed for friction it sent you flying, soaring into the sky and losing all coherent thought as your orgasm bubbled in your stomach, his husky voice grounding you to Earth. 

“Cum for me, baby, now.” And that was all it took to have you lurching over the edge, releasing your pent up orgasm so violently you were nearly screaming, Taehyung’s name the only distinguishable thing rolling off your tongue. 

He licked up your juices like they were fresh water, helping you ride out your euphoric orgasm and allowing yourself a moment to rest. You breathed, falling onto the bed in exhaustion, trying to quell the blood pumping in your ears when Taehyung suddenly pulled you back onto your hands and knees, cautioning you darkly when he spoke. 

“You thought we were done?” It was evil, he was evil, the way his voice sounded like the epitome of a smirk as you tried catching your breath. Taehyung’s lips then suddenly ghosted the shell of your ear as he wrapped an arm around your torso, pressing his chest to your back as he spoke. 

“I haven’t even done anything yet.” 

And again, it was the ‘yet’ that had you groaning out in frustration but in the best possible ways. How wasn’t this already enough? How did he have you so fucked out just by the sheer power of his fingers and tongue? It was sickening, he was sickening and you found yourself throwing your ass back on him to urge his cock into you already, to just fuck you open with all he had. 

“Taehyung, just-fuck! Fuck me, please.” You were pleading, needing to feel the wreckage of what you could tell was the biggest cock you’ll ever take.  

Taehyung had removed his pants and boxers in the moment, freeing his painfully angry cock from it’s confines. You were faltering from your position again when Taehyung suddenly prodded your abused hole with his engorged tip, you shuddering to life harshly. 

“Taehyung, just-” 

“Beg me.” 

You cried out in immediate desperation, his voice so authoritative it was sending you into submission, clutching the covers under you so hard your knuckles were white as you complied. “Taehyung, please, fuck me. I need you, please.” 

Taehyung’s arm was snug around your torso, feeling your every quaking expire in his hold and it was turning him on so agonizingly this was painful even for himself, but the way your sweet voice begged him was absolutely exhilarating.

“More.” 

“Taehyung, if you don’t fucking-!” You were cut off by the sharp impalement of Taehyung’s cock in a single breath, knocking all forms of wind out of you. The head alone was so large you went hurtling into the mattress, almost losing your shaking arms’ support until Taehyung pulled you back up for him, snaking his one hand that was previously around his cock to your breast while the other gripped at your hip. 

He was slowly sinking in, feeling your walls flutter open for him and the satisfied moan that left his mouth was evidence of how much this was affecting him. 

“Fuck...” Taehyung dragged out completely content, digging into your hip to watch you arch your back for him, on his knees as he filled you up from behind. “You’re so fucking tight and wet, holy shit.” 

You were struggling for air, oxygen leaving your lungs trying to accommodate for his monstrous size. It was unfair, so unfair he was so big and it had you praising him immediately, so full and stuffed it was the most pleasurable thing you’ve experienced all your life. 

“You’re so big, oh my God, Taehyung, so big.” One of your hands shot towards his holding you by your hip, interlacing your fingers together against your skin just to ground yourself, to manage the sharp pierce of his length until it simmered into a pleasurable burn. 

He bottomed out into your cervix and you both grunted loud, Taehyung containing himself just so he could feel your velvet walls palpitate around his throbbing dick. “Do you feel how hard I am, Y/N? Do you fucking feel it?” 

“Yes, God fuck! Tae, yes..” You sighed out, eyes watering at just how much pleasure was already raking your abdomen again. 

“That’s what you do to me, you barely touched me and this is how hard I am. How fucking badly I want you, how much I’ve always wanted you, wanted you since day one.” Taehyung’s voice was sincere and desperate, seemingly trying to counter your confession of your feelings from earlier.

“Show me, Taehyung.” You moaned, hands gripping his more affectionately, more desperately as you weakly held yourself up by the other. “Fuck me and show me how much you want me.” 

Taehyung grunted out harshly, pulling his cock out of you until he thrusted back in. The first thrust had you keening, sending you into the mattress only to have Taehyung pull you back up once again. Then the second came, your walls greedily soaking him into you and it felt perfect, like two puzzle pieces meant to connect with each other. 

Then came the third, the fourth, the fifth, all the way until Taehyung was pounding into you from behind with a drag so delicious you were moaning out more than you ever have in your entire life. 

And it was sickening, utterly sickening the way his dick began fucking you into the mattress so roughly, angling your body in ways for his cock to pump into all the right places with the right amount of pressure. He watched himself disappear into your little cunt repeatedly, holding your hip up to encourage you to arch so low your ass was snug against his pelvis, and couldn’t think of anything more fucking perfect. 

“You take me so well, so fucking well.” Taehyung praised, leaning over to aimlessly lay wet kisses up your spine like the demon he was, shoving himself into you over and over and over again with your walls convulsing around him.

You were trapping him inside you so tight he could spill into you in seconds, though held back determined he was making you cum again.

“So full, Taehyung, so deep.. all I feel is you.” The statement left you with a desperate sigh, your head hanging low until Taehyung’s hand kneading your breast suddenly wrapped around your throat, causing you to gasp at the arousing feeling. He pulled your head upwards, the junction between his long index finger and thumb forcing you to look forward, and you were utterly breathless at the scene.

His lips were near your ear in seconds, speaking like the devil incarnate as he was bent over you. “Look at us, look at yourself, so fucking pretty, so perfect.” You could suddenly see the reflection of Taehyung fucking into you from behind in his window, not even knowing tears had streamed down your face as his hand beautifully encased your throat, causing every nerve in your body to alight with fire. 

“Look at the way I fuck you, how much I love you.” Taehyung’s carnal eyes looked at you through the reflection of the window, heart twinging at the sight of you crying but knowing he’s making you feel good, continuing his onslaught of drilling your battered pussy. 

You moaned at the erotic scene, using every ounce of strength to keep yourself upright, your walls pulsing around Taehyung’s length as he thrusted harder and harder.

“Tae, fuck! I’ve always loved you, I always felt the same way, and I still do-ah!” Your lungs were tapping out when he suddenly shoved himself inside you to the brim, so utterly deep before he was thrusting again harshly, strangling out moans. 

Clear sweat was slick between your bodies, his huge, delicious cock incessantly tearing up your insides and all you could do was chant his name in pleasure, in bliss, in your love for him that was burning so bright it was nearly painful. 

“Y/N.. fuck. You’re ruining me. You’re so perfect, we’re so fucking perfect.” Taehyung was rambling at this point as his speed reflected his desperation, his immeasurable feelings for you. 

He was trying his damn hardest to distract himself from the release aching his balls. He was growing weak himself, feeling you reciprocate his rough thrusts by fucking him back the same way. And the image in the window? Had him reeling, needing to hear the most beautiful sound you’d make when you finally came, and he knew you would, bordering the precipice with the way your walls pulsed around him. 

Watching Taehyung fuck you in the window was now downright sinful to you, his harsh thrusts completely blissful and his hand gently squeezing at your throat was so dominant, so hot you were at your limit and ready to come. 

But what ended up sending you over, pushing you to release the tightening knot in your stomach was the sweet, tender way Taehyung began kissing your neck. 

The contrast between his cock abusing you and his plush lips kissing you so gently, so lovingly, it wasn’t long before you realized his fucking wasn’t just hard or rough, but full of sheer want, desire, love in all the right ways your walls were clenching around him rapidly in seconds. 

And when Taehyung angled himself somehow deeper, in that one, perfect spot, you clamped down and finally came so hard you saw stars, knew you’d completely drenched his cock with the loudest release of his name you were glad it was the only word you knew in this moment. 

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Taehyung breathed out in exhaustion, began soothing your abdomen with one hand and the other letting your head finally hang, grip loosened from around your throat and you could finally allow air back into your lungs. 

You were heaving when you spoke up, realizing something. “Inside me.. Taehyung.” You were dreary, utterly gone, but it still didn’t distract you from the blissful feeling of Taehyung’s cock deliciously stuffed and throbbing inside you, trying to coax his rightful release. “Cum inside me, Tae. Please, fill me up.” 

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice when his cock worked a few more rough strokes into your tightened pussy and finally, finally came inside you. It was laced with a satisfied groan of your name, his grip on your side so intense you’d be glad if he left marks, wanting to remember every last bit of this night with Taehyung. 

He painted you completely white inside, spilling everything he could offer into you, using what little strength he had left to hold you up while he continued to empty his seed inside. Taehyung then lost all function and allowed you to fall, his broad body resting on top of yours as you both hit the mattress. 

Your chests rose and fell shallowly, completely taxed and having lost every ounce of strength. Taehyung’s hot breaths for air were fanning your neck, your arms sprawled out before you as Taehyung’s hands mindlessly interlaced with them against the tousled covers, cock still stuffing you whole. 

It was another moment of breathing and regaining oxygen when Taehyung suddenly kissed the side of your neck, giving your hands a small squeeze before you felt him lifting himself, his warmth disappearing and you panicked. 

“Where are you going?” Your throat was hoarse from screaming and moaning, a tinge of sadness to your tone as though he was leaving you, and Taehyung couldn’t help but find it endearing. 

“It’s okay, I’ll be right back.” He smiled, moving your hair from the side of your face to plant a kiss to your cheek, post-sex haze racking his brain though allowing reality to leak back into his mind. 

He then carefully, slowly pulled himself out of you, you whining at the loss of him and Taehyung smiled to himself in contentment, smoothing over your lower back with a palm in gratitude, before stepping towards his bathroom. 

He’d pulled his boxers back on and returned with a damp cloth, finding you still flipped and laying on your stomach, having dozed off in exhaustion until you felt Taehyung’s warmth and heard his dulcet voice hazing you awake. 

“Y/N, turn over for me.” His voice was hushed and tender, you complying by turning onto your back with his help. He then carefully swept the cloth against your battered core, you wincing a little with sensitivity and Taehyung made sure to clean more gently. 

The cloth was thrown back into his bathroom when he turned back to you, an arm thrown over your tear-stained face and the other clutching your body, clearly shivering in the cold now.

Taehyung easily scooped you into his arms and lifted you off the bed, carrying you over to his pillows and delicately placing you upon his duvet, pulling the covers out from underneath you and tucking you into his bed. 

You curled up into his blanket, Taehyung searching through his drawers for a stray t-shirt you could wear. He then lifted you into a sitting position, your eyes evidently sleepy and body limp as he pulled the shirt onto you, letting you fall back in place. 

Taehyung could only chuckle to himself thinking he did mean to ruin you, but not so harshly you were devoid of consciousness. He placed a little kiss to your forehead in apology, wiping some of the tears off your face before he rounded the bed, crawling in next to you.

His arms reached out to pull your back snug against his chest, feeling the sleep in the back of his eyes take him. He basked in the strawberry scent of your hair, completely gratified until you suddenly turned over towards him. 

His eyes shot open, only the top of your head coming into view as you nuzzled into his warm chest, your small self all tucked into Taehyung as he wrapped his arms around you like a safety net, holding you near.

And in that moment, all he could focus on was your light breathing, the sweet sound of your voice as you suddenly spoke in the dark of the night, moonlight glowing upon your entangled bodies. 

“I love you, Taehyung.” 

He grinned, the kind where he felt relieved, fulfilled, in a state of sheer bliss it was a moment before he replied, his own voice calm as you felt the hum through his chest, his hand tangled in your hair. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

The morning sun bled into Taehyung’s room, your eyes fluttering open at a time you had no concept of. You stirred, finding yourself still in Taehyung’s arm, in relatively the same position from last night. You didn’t even feel like moving from his hold, the feeling so utterly fuzzy and comforting. 

You basked in the sensation until he began to stir next to you, pretty eyelashes batting as his eyes fluttered open. His sights fell to you, eyes adorably taken by sleep while his soft hair was endearingly mussed by his pillow. You smiled at him warmly as he grinned back.

“Good morning.” you said shyly, nearly hiding underneath his covers. 

“Good morning.” 

You then flopped onto your back peering up at the ceiling, last night coming back to you in dream-like flashes you were surprised was somehow your reality. 

It was just miraculous, utterly unbelievable until Taehyung turning into your side and snuggling his face into your neck was evidence everything was real, that he was real. It wasn’t some remnant of a dream or hallucination, but the real Taehyung as his arm draped over your stomach. 

You had to bite your lip to contain your happiness, utter exuberance the universe had somehow finally paired you and him together, and funnily enough, on Christmas of all days. 

“What are you thinking about, princess?” Taehyung hummed into your collarbone inquisitively, half asleep as he cuddled you. 

You smiled, basking in his comfort. “Merry Christmas, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung chuckled against you, arm pulling you closer to him as he kissed your neck. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.” 

“Can you believe we met each other again during Christmas? It’s like the perfect Christmas miracle.” You marveled in wonder, tracing your finger along Taehyung’s pretty hand on your stomach. 

“I mean, you know what Andy Williams said..” He mused next to you, husky voice laden with sleep. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

[m1d-45]

Any advice for writing Genshin fanfics? Asking because I have a lil fanfic side blog and I want to start posting Genshin stuff, but nervous

imma be straight up…. i don’t know what i’m doing-

Seven Points to Success(™️) beneath the readmore

hi :) i have no idea how to tumblr :))

in all honesty, i started posting bc i wanted this as a sort of archive for all the shit i write. i have a habit of deleting docs i don’t like and eventually wishing i didn’t so i could read them, so i figured what better motivator to write and encouragement that no, this isn’t shit, then the internet?

i guess that’s my first point: don’t write for anybody but yourself. write what you want, and then post it in case somebody else likes it. otherwise, you’ll probably end up losing motivation and getting burnt out. write what you want, and don’t be embarrassed to do so.

two: as with any fanfic, get to know the characters! please! the last thing you want is for readers to be flung out of a story because somebody was out of character. the genshin wiki is a goldmine!! the voice lies can give you an idea as to how a character speaks, and their story will let you in on, well, their story.

uhhh three: grammar. this isn’t pointed at you specifically, just genuinely… please refresh yourself on grammar rules. fics could have an excellent premise, but it’s not gonna be read if everything is a run on, with multiple speakers per paragraph.

what not to do:

“isn’t the sunset pretty?” kazuha said his hand brushing yours. “it is”, you agreed leaning into his shoulder. “i knew you’d like it” he smiled.

^ don’t do that. don’t. paragraph changes every time someone new speaks, and commas go before the quote.

in addition, try reading out your dialogue (out loud or in your head doesn’t matter) to check it sounds real, and like it’s in that characters ‘voice.’ kinda goes hand in hand with point 2.

(minor point: while some grammar rules can be bent or a bit fudged—such as my entirely writing in lowercase and excessive use of commas—there are lines that cannot be crossed. that sounds serious but all it means is that some fundamentals need to be followed.)

point 3.5: use a readmore. please. do it. if you’re on mobile, click an empty line, type ‘:readmore:’, then hit enter. idk how to do it on desktop but please. do it. everybody will thank you. i will personally thank you. just type out a title, summary, maybe a paragraph of the fic to get readers hooked, then a readmore. makes everybody happy, and it’s easier to navigate your blog that way.

point four: practice! please please please practice. you will get better with time. trust me. i am sitting you down, handing you a warm drink, and asking you to promise to keep writing. just do it. it’s gonna be bad sometimes. it’s gonna make you cringe when you look back on it. whatever. keep. writing.

obviously don’t burn yourself out, but if you’ve got an idea, open up a doc and start writing. what starts as an idea put to page tends to spiral into fics for me, but even if it doesn’t for you, you have started. you have done the hardest part. you can keep going, i promise, you can always rewrite what you don’t like.

take it from me: i start every fic as a short blurb outlining the idea, and always have to redo the introduction for tumblr to neaten it into something presentable. it doesn’t matter if it isn’t perfect, it just has to work.

if you don’t like your sentence structures, vary the length of your sentences. short. long. semicolons, m dashes, paragraphs in parentheses, it doesn’t matter. if you don’t like your word choices, pop open a thesaurus and find a different word. do not do this for every single word ever, obviously, but if you’re using the same word over and over, it might be better to have some synonyms in mind. additionally, they can make the emotional points stronger—i.e. ‘cried’ vs ‘sobbed’—or emphasize the point you want to make more—like ‘hissed’ vs ‘seethed’.

the point above does not apply to ‘said’. ‘said’ is not dead. obviously use dialogue tags, but also use ‘said’. everybody who says ‘said is dead’ is a liar and a fraud. it is okay to use ‘said’. ‘said’ ‘say’ and ‘says’ are our beloveds.

(minor point: i use apostrophes as quotations as a stylistic choice, but you never use these in technical, grammatically correct writing. “he said ‘purposeful,’ so it wasn’t an accident.” <- that is not a grammatically correct line of dialogue, but it’s how i would stylize it. this is just to let you know that i am not grammatically correct—after all, i type entirely in lowercase because i think it looks better, so…)

point five: tag things! but don’t over tag them. tag whats relevant, tag whats important, and nothing else. i don’t know how to draw the line here bc it can get blurry, but try reading a fanfic and then looking to see what was tagged if this is confusing. tag whats relevant so people can find things, and leave out stuff unrelated so others can scroll through that tag in peace.

(minor point: tag warnings if your piece contains triggering topics. i’ve seen varying opinions as to how obvious these warnings should be, but at the very least some form of tag about it is courteous, in my opinion)

(minor point 2: if you write ‘x reader’s—you didn’t specify, but you asked me for advice, so—then please, please, pretty please, mark your readers gender. it’s ok if you solely write fem! reader, but please just say so. nobody wants to enter a fic only to get hit with the she/her without warning. i didn’t do this for a while because i solely write for a gn reader w/ you/yours pronouns, but i know better now. tag your readers. write what you want, just make sure others can find it too)

point 6: organize. do it. i know it can be annoying but pls. a masterlist saves lives. mine isn’t the best example but hey, it works.

in the same vein, have a navigation post pinned, with stuff like rules, whether requests are open, a link to the masterlist, and whatever else you deem important. again, mine isn’t the best example, but it works. this way, people can easily find your works, and return to where they were if you write a series/ a lot in general.

point seven: take everything i just said with a grain of salt, no matter how small. i am just one guy. i don’t know everything. i don’t even know what i do know. you think i know how i have almost a thousand followers? no. i just write about boys i find pretty and put them online for the internet to read. maybe you write best by solely writing for the community. maybe you work completely off any sort of schedule. i don’t know. i’m not you.

you are you. you know you best. take breaks, take care of yourself, and just go for it. i promise, the worst that can happen is that nothing happens. you’ll be okay. you can do it.

— midas.

(p.s.: sorry if this reads particularly incoherent i have an illness again :) sick three times within three months, call that f2p luck)

[mego42]

fav lines tag

RULES: share your favorite sentence/paragraph from each one of your fics and tag 6 other fic writers to do it too :)

tagged by the talented brilliant incredible @foxmagpie (💖)

tagging: @pynkhues @hypermania @bethsuglywigs @riosnecktattoo @missmaxime @sothischickshe @joeyjoeylee

some ground rules: I’m only doing brio fic bc at some point when I wasn’t paying attention I wrote a metric fuckton of it and we’re already gonna be here all day bc my other ground rule is I’m allowed to interpret the concept of a line however i want. i’m also gonna tell you why i picked them bc no one can stop me. cool? cool. good talk. 

your monster looks like mine

okay so my first choice for fav would be the entire ~conversation around whether or not beth had a choice when she set rio up bc oooof I just love how that came out so! much! BUT if I’m limiting myself to something closer to a line, I’m going with this one. i love what it establishes for rio’s emotional state when it comes to beth, i love how it captures their push/pull constant one upping battle, I love the rhythm of the flow of it and the grandiose verbiage (i was having a frankly unreasonable amount of fun with natural phenomena imagery throughout the whole fic and this captures a bit of it). idk I just think it’s neat.

The words rip through him, a bright, blazing comet trail whipped across his sky, illuminatin’ his landscape, impossible to ignore.

Elizabeth’s spread out on the bed below him, golden hair tumblin’ around her face, mouth red and swollen, lookin’ up at him like she’s got him. Like she’s figured some shit out. Like she fuckin’ did something by putting that together.

Like Rio doesn’t fuckin’ know. Like that doesn’t fuckin’ haunt him, torment him, mock him every time she pulls some of her bullshit and he’s left picking up the pieces, knowin’ damn well what the right answer is but also knowin’ he’s always gonna be wrong when it comes to her.

--

a song inside the halls of the dark

another one where I’d pick a whole scene if I could BUT if  the whole opening flashback isn’t on the table (idk I love it for 14,000 reasons including how it sets up the bookend structure for the chapter, how it sets up a bunch of the final payoffs, the tone of it, idk everything about it came out exactly how I wanted it to and I really love how it tees up the ending), then I’m going with this bit from the final brio scene. it ties back in a whole bunch of threads that have been woven in and out all the way back to the first chapter and closes them out in a way that also feels (to me) like a beginning which I love bc the whole theme of the chapter is it’s a beginning, not the end.

What does it mean then, that he’s slept so soundly beside her?

The playhouse glows softly. She wonders how many more times she can get away with sanding it before it weakens past the point of supporting the kids’ weight and the whole thing collapses.

Behind it, she can see the long shadow it casts reaching for the boxwoods bordering the yard. The lines of the structure frame windows of bright moonlight on the grass, eerily reminiscent of the windows that loomed large in the nightmares Beth abruptly realizes she hasn’t had in weeks. Not since that last night at Rio’s loft. And that’d been the last one since...his car. Canada. The night all of this started.

Beth blinks. What does it mean that she’s slept so soundly beside him?

A-live, alive, alive, I—

Her breath catches.

—

pills’n’potions

I don’t have any grand reasoning for why I picked this bit from the 4th (i think?) ~ch as my fav, I just really like writing annie and rio interacting and I especially love writing them with annie like, intellectually aware that she should probably be afraid of him but also spiritually incapable of not being herself and rio being wildly annoyed by it

"What?" He asks, giving the t an edge sharp enough to cut.

There's a pause. "What like you didn't hear me, or what like what do I want?"

[...]

"Hello?"

Now the sister sounds like she's getting annoyed, and Rio's really gotta do somethin' about the two of them runnin' 'round actin' like he's someone they can get away with not takin' seriously. Like he's some sort of pet. Defanged. Declawed. Fuckin' neutered.

"Get to the point."

"I mean, I kind of did in the message."

—

trade my heart for honey

the only thing sexier than rio being good at pool is beth being a fucking shark and rio being out of control turned on by it.

Dropping all pretense at being less than she is, Beth grabs the cue ball, positioning it slightly to the left of center where the felt is slightly more worn. Even without the tell, she's seen Rio put it there enough times to know it's the table's sweet spot. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rio shift his weight before she tunes him out entirely, drawing the stick back and letting it fly.

It's as close to a perfect break as she's probably ever managed. The cue ball connects dead on, scattering the rest far and wide. The one and the six drop neatly into pockets, the four and five coming to a stop right on the edge of the left side and far left corner, nearly closing off that whole side of the table.

Every stripe remains in play.

"Solids," she says, not letting herself dwell on the way Rio's mouth hangs slightly open, his eyes glazed over.

—

swaying evergreens

the whole theme of this fic is the terrifying intimacy and vulnerability of sharing your most precious moments and memories with someone you care about and I like how this touches on that along with sort of nutshelling the double edged sword of grief-tinted memory which is another major theme

There's somethin' extra about these unguarded moments. That Elizabeth trusts Rio enough to drop her guard completely and give him this completely unvarnished look at her. It's been over a year since he's been back in her bed, since the first time he'd slept here, but there's still somethin' tentative about it. Like there's a part of him that's never going to be all the way over the first time he'd been here, that can't fully believe how far they've come, that this isn't going to crumble, melt, drain away.

Truthfully, Rio doesn't mind it, that faint edge. He's well acquainted with the different flavors of loss, and the threat of it's a counterpoint that keeps him sharp. Lets him know this is real but not somethin' he'll take for granted.

—

swear on a silver knife

there were a couple of sexy tension bits that made for strong contenders but ultimately this won bc I’m obsessed with how this reference to 306 came out.

“I told you. I got my own debts to pay.” He bit off the words like it cost him something to repeat them.

Beth shivered, abruptly right back at that picnic table, cheeks wet and staring at him, searching for any hint of the man she’d—she’d—anyone besides the cold, unfeeling stranger sitting beside her, blood so fresh on his hands she could nearly smell it underneath the scent of the cold, misty night rain falling around them, blurring her eyes, beading in her hair and on his eyelashes.

—

listening through the air shaft

this was a really hard one to narrow down but I ultimately went with this but bc I love it for a culminating look at how beth and rio’s relationship has evolved throughout the fic and also bc a version of this scene was the first thing I wrote for the whole fic so it was fun to finally get there with everything in place behind it. I also just love it as a reference for the dichotomy of both beth and rio and also how complicated that is makes being around them for everyone else

They aren't even doing anything, just quietly working side by side, but there's a synchronicity to their movements, a quiet peace that makes Dean feel more like an intruder than anything else that's happened today, and he hates it.

It’s so far from the guy that’d broken into his home, beaten him up. Who’d looked at him with those terrifying, blank, shark eyes before casually shooting him in the chest like it was nothing right where they’re about to sit down and share a meal.

A guy, Dean suddenly realizes, he hasn’t seen any hint of in a long, long time. It’s not that he doesn’t think that part of him isn’t there, it’s just...it’s weird, is all, how completely he puts it away.

It reminds Dean of Beth, actually, now that he’s thinking about it.

God. They look so...so domestic. Sweet. Disarming in a way that completely undermines everything Dean thought he'd known about the guy and their whole...thing.  

He just—he doesn't get it, what Beth sees in him.

—

now use both hands

idk I just like this bit let me live

"What are you—what service?"

He makes himself take the route through the showroom that brings him right past her, leaning in and softly brushing a lock of hair out of her face for the first time in longer than he can remember.

Her eyes flutter shut, and he feels absolutely nothing.

"Helping sad, lonely housewives get off once their husbands are done with them."

Her eyes snap open, and he makes himself look at her long enough to watch the hit land and the hurt bloom.

He's empty, untouchable, she's nothing to him.

Rio doesn't look back.

—

I'd give her a HA! And a HI-YA!

you can take my made up backstory for rio and mick from me when you pry it from my cold dead hands.

Mick had been there the first time Rio'd had to get his hands all the way dirty and had kept an eye on him when he'd gotten blackout drunk after, and Rio'd done the same for him. Every bloody, grimy step Rio'd climbed, Mick had been right there with him, watching his back all the way to the top.

The point is Rio's Mick's brother in every way that counts.

Mick'd seen him twisted up over business and twisted up over personal shit, but he's never seen him let both get twisted up like he had since that fuckin' weasel Boomer'd got his ass handed to him and Rio'd gotten curious about it.

—

as the world turns, the blunt burns

I pull this every time I have to pick a fav and I can’t even really explain it aside from I think I’m really, really funny and that’s enough

Beth suddenly sobers as much as she can when she feels like she's simultaneously floating away and sinking into the Earth and wipes her eyes. "Are you gonna get in trouble?"

"You're in the house, ain't you?" He's answering Beth but looking at Rio.

"Mick," Beth frantically tugs at his pant leg because apparently, he doesn't have all of the information. "We're in the yard."

"Yeah, Mick," Rio says, glaring. "You're in the yard."

Mick shrugs, and Beth realizes he isn't scared of Rio at all. That's a neat trick. How does he do that? Maybe he can teach her.

—

smoke, fire, it’s all going up

there are realistically many other better lines in this fic but this one never fails to make me laugh so it remains my fav.

"You- you-" She sputters at him, flailing around a little. "You were the one that started mailing me pieces of a dead body."

"You blocked my number." Rio snarls, which is not what he'd meant to say, and he hates that she trips him up.

"That is not a proportionate response!"

—

got a kiss (with your name on it)

it was this or the text exchange at the beginning of the fic bc I strongly believe established relationship brio would continually roast each other for their past dumbassery but the elizabeth kink won out

"Come here," Rio's voice is thick but insistent in a way that brings every cell of Beth's body to attention. She hooks her thumb over her bottom teeth and drags her lower lip a little, a gesture full of who me mock innocence, waiting for him to say-

"Elizabeth." There it is.

There's an endless amount of things that Beth finds ferociously, irresistibly sexy about Rio, but when he says her full name in that commanding tone? Even if she's pissed the fuck off and has no intention of doing what he wants, it gives her goosebumps.

—

say it’s all in my head (i remember what you said)

I will be real with y’all, I forget I wrote this fic a lot of the time hahahaha but! that means every time I’m reminded I go back and am like oh yeah! I like this! anyway there isn’t like, one specific but I really love most as much as I really like the tentative breathless nervousness and then also overwhelming so muchness and I like how this but captures both of those

For a single, breathless moment, she stands in the middle of the room, alone and terrified.

Then Rio wets his lips and comes towards her, moving with that languid grace she's never been able to look away from even before she had any idea why that could be.

All of the fear collapses like a dying star, sending a supernova of relief and molten heat zinging through her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Her head swims, and every cell in her body feels like it's leaning towards him- like she's made of magnets on a molecular level and he's the lodestone.

He gently pushes her bangs off of her forehead, slowly running his fingertip down the side of her face, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He tilts his head towards hers and stops, going no further than halfway, leaving it up to her to close the distance.

She lets her eyes fall shut as she leans into him and tentatively touches her mouth to his for the first time.

—

the world is on fire (and no one can save me) / what a wicked game you played (to make me feel this way)

two for one!!! idk if either of these is my number one favorite line from either fic individually but I really like how they both play together. I like writing beth and rio pov and having them mirror each other’s narration both in thought and structure a lot bc I like thinking of them as two versions of the same

Beth checks her phone, nothing from Rhea, and sends a quick I'm here, text me when you're close, and I'll grab a table before wetting a paper towel and wiping away the last of her smeared mascara. With precise, brisk movements, she snaps open her bag and fishes out her compact, her lipstick, and her mascara; lining them up click, click, click on the tiny shelf below the mirror.

She can live with this; she has to live like this; she will live like this.

She flips open the compact and methodically dabs away the flush and pallor and shadows that are not grief, are not loss, are not anything other than shock and horror that she'd gone so far, that she'd lost control, that she'd killed a man (that man).

and

So what the fuck had he been doin' with Elizabeth fuckin' Boland, giving her chance after chance to cross the line? What the fuck was the point of a line if it might as well not be there at all? All because he liked her big blue eyes and the way she worked a tight sweater? Nah, that ain't him. That can't be him. That's the kind of shit that'll get you killed, and he's got three spent bullets in his pocket and a scar next to his heart if he ever needs the reminder again. 

He shifts in the driver's seat, reaching into his pocket and fishing the bullets out. Lining them up on the dashboard with a definitive click, click, click. He looks past them to the brightly lit valet station. He's been parked in the back of the lot for ten minutes now, waiting for Rhea to give him the go sign. He ain't hiding, doesn't need to, Elizabeth ain't lookin' for him, he just wants to make sure he sees her before she sees him. Get a good look first, so he can size up the situation.

[simonalkenmayeris-still-dead]

CC1 - The Myth

OR why am I subjecting myself to this nonsense?

As I have mentioned, a friend of mine began reading The Book, and sent me some choice excerpts.  I became intrigued.  Not because it’s good, it actually seems pretty creepy, but because I think Si accidentally wrote a paranormal romance.

So before we even start the book, there’s a disclaimer. IDK if it was in the original book.  It begins “Dearest Gentle Reader,” which is not a great start if I’m the one reading because I hate that sort of affectation in writing.  

Like, if someone writes “dear readers” in a fanfic, it has to be really good for me to continue reading.

This disclaimer is basically saying that although 2012 was such a long time ago, and Simon was an ignorant fool when he wrote this, he can’t be bothered actually editing it properly, so please forgive him ahead of time if he did something wrong.

If you ever find yourself writing something like this, you need an editor.

Just so you know, nothing happens in this chapter.  It’s supposed to be an introduction to Simon and how he’s a monster, but you do NOT need a whole chapter for that.

Simon also really needs an editor.  There are multiple sentences in this chapter that lack correct sentence structure.  

For example, in the first paragraph we have this “Yes, I eat people, though the correct term is anthropophage”.  For this sentence to make sense, anthropophage would need to mean “eating people”, as in the act of eating people, it would need to be a verb.  So, when I google this, which Simon tells you to do, I get this result

An anthropophage or anthropophagus was a member of a mythical race of cannibals

So anthropophage doesn’t refer to the act of eating people.  It’s a noun.  It refers to not just cannibals (which Simon maintains he isn’t) but a specific race of cannibals.  

That sentence makes no sense.  And there are plenty of similar sentence constructions throughout this chapter.  I’m not going to point out all of them, except where they affect the narrative, because we’d be here all day.

After Simon begins his “succinct” first paragraph, in which he repeats himself four times, he decides to open with how we must be feeling.

As many of you may know by now, I am not a fan of being told how I must feel, whether that is to my face, in a blog post, or in a book, so he’s losing me.

I also really hate Simon’s “voice”, because it’s really inconsistent.  He veers wildly between what I assume the author thinks is some sort of period affectation, and modern English, when he could have chosen one.  

This is partly because the person writing doesn’t have a style, and partly because they haven’t had their work edited.  And because Simon doesn’t research.  The best way to mimic a style of writing from a certain period is to read things from that period. You can’t just shove words like “one” or “quaint” into your writing and expect it to sound authentic.

Anyway, Simon’s long and belaboured point, is that everything we think we know about monsters is wrong.  He spends another 3 paragraphs reiterating this and then passes up the opportunity to use the phrase “you may not believe in us, but we believe in you.”  This is a good phrase, human minds like repetition.  Instead we got “you may not be afraid of us, but we are still here.”

Disappointing.

Then we have some maths and may I just say, if maths is not your strong suit, do not try to put it in your book.

Simon has heard that up to fifty thousand people go missing every year.  He doesn’t know that, he’s just heard it, so from the outset, he’s not even using facts.

For some reason, he thinks missing people must either be murdered or assume a new identity. Those are the only two options he has.

In reality, a huge number of missing persons are not exactly missing, they’re people escaping abuse situations, and they get reported missing by their abuser.  Those people aren’t assuming a new identity or dead.

Simon also thinks all humans dump corpses in national forests.  I don’t know why he thinks this.  I expect there’s a lot of cleanup after dumping someone in a park.  Would it really be worth your while to drive all that way when there’s probably somewhere closer in a city where you could get the job done?  This is what cement boots are for, right?  I also don’t think murderers go to all that trouble of dumping a body just to leave it out in the open like that.  They’re going to at least dig a grave.

It’s also apparently unfeasible that anyone could adopt a new identity without a single hitch.  But you don’t actually have to adopt a new identity seamlessly to “go missing”.  The going missing part is just where you drop your old identity.  Hitches in adopting a new one are a separate issue.

Or maybe I’m just sensitive to this because I’m trans.

And then, in explaining why he isn’t going to claim his species is completely responsible for all missing people… Simon cites two things that do not cause people to go missing as examples for humanity’s awesome cruelty.

Awesome?  Not awful?  Okay then.

I understand that he’s trying to make a point, the theme of the book is obviously “humans are more monstrous than a real monster”, but the point loses something if you make it with a stupid example.

Oh and then we come to my favourite part of this chapter.

It is an experiment. A point. An argument for the furthering of knowledge. Mixed with a little boredom, if I am honest. You are a test subject. By reading this, you give consent to tell me what I need to know.

An experiment isn’t supposed to be making a point, Simon.  That’s not what experiments do.  Also, what is that last sentence?  Is he a mind reader now?  

I think Simon may be a little fixated on the “by <performing act> you give consent” concept.  But if you are telling someone something, you’ve presumably given consent.  The act of communicating with someone actually implies more consent than reading a book.

Now I’m gonna skip down to the part where he decides I don’t believe him.  I hope this telling me what I think isn’t going to continue all through the book because I’m not sure I can handle it.

Also, Simon really wishes this book had ended up on CW network. I know this because he says how disappointed he would be if that happened.  I personally wouldn’t write anything about the possibility of my book being adapted for screen in the book itself.  It kind of sounds like you think it’s your due when it’s really not.  Or like the only reason you wrote the book was to get rich off it.

There is one notable part of this chapter, and it’s this

If you are hoping to hear my account of slavery, you should know that I was fixated upon the flavors of meat raised in the terroir of Virginian tobacco plantations, and didn’t even notice the skin color of any given human.

We all know how Simon would excuse this, he’d say it’s not his fault he’s a monster blah blah blah.  But honestly, this is racist.  Even setting skin colour aside, is he trying to tell us he didn’t notice some humans were being treated as chattel?  I would think that’s something he would need to keep abreast of, considering he says he targets his food according to whether they’d be missed.

He also says his purpose isn’t to rewrite our past, which gives a great indication of what he thinks the past is (all the big events you learn about in primary school, no society and culture).  But that’s exactly what he wants to do.

Skipping down some more, over the part where he says if I find him funny, to consider he may not be kidding – it’s okay Simon, I’m laughing at you, not with you – and the part about diaries being a proper pursuit.  Even past the insult about mentally ill people.

BECAUSE THEN WE GET

“harangue me about being a second-rate author; but please be polite.”

Does Simon know what harangue means?  It means a tirade.  It’s not polite.

Another paragraph about how we shouldn’t care about his feelings because he doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks.  And this next bit.

“You are encouraged to embrace this tale however you see fit, communicate with its author any way you can”

Except, apparently, from creating a tumblr blog, that is very wrong.

And that’s it!  Literally nothing happened.  Hopefully things get more exciting in Chapter 2.

[teacup-baphomet]

G/t plot bunny 1

ugh generic title is generic but whatever.

so basically there are these two people - humans - and they are like ghost/cryptid hunters. 

in my head. There is one guy and one girl. The guy is very excitable and happy-go-lucky (an optimistic ray of sunshine type with his head in the clouds). 

The girl is more down-to-earth. A tad on the pessimistic side maybe. a little more rough around the edges. will throw hands at the drop of a dime to protect the people she cares about no matter how daunting the challenge is (like she will take on an entire gang herself is she needs to orr - well, you’ll see later in this plot bunny).

They are currently somewhere - idk where- and there is like big arse castle thing. Entirely made of stone. Ornate. and mostly like “f***off” big. like the theories/lore behind it is some ancient, archaic civilization made this castle for their god(s) as some symbolic gesture.

But the duo is here because it’s supposed haunted af.

And they want to either prove that or disprove that. 

all for the sake of likes on the internet. such a noble causes lol. nah. they get paid too so mostly there’s that.

anyways. as it turns out it is NOT haunted.

but rather someone - something? - BIG is sorta imprisoned in the structure. Not visible at first. Hidden away ... somewhere, perhaps an alternate dimension or something. Until freed. 

And the duo accidentally frees him. 

Anyways, the big guy is basically the result of a king from the long dead civilization getting super greedy and basically doing some weird ritual to get limitless power. It goes terribly wrong - for the king- and he ends up getting possessed, well more like completely hijacked and the king is kinda dead now - by some sorta being. a shapeshifting something that tends to be on the lorg side. 

The being didn’t really have a gender until he took over the king’s earthly form and then he decided “huh, guess i’m a dude” so he tends to shapeshift into a male form. typically big. typically kinda monstrous. haven’t thought of how monstrous. or if the shapeshifter being is demonic or not. or what does “demonic” even mean if so. 

kinda leaning towards a monstrous in a dragon-boy kinda way. wings. horns. rows of sharp teef. claws. scaly forearms and lower legs as well as various other patches of scales. glowing eyes. firebreath. 

with some hints of elderitch monstrosity. so maybe like a third eye on their forehead and perhaps a wee eye on each of the little clawed hand things on his wings. idk. plus the ability to make prehensile shadow tendril/tentacle things shoot out from his body. or something like that.

but i dunno. if i write this or not is hecking big IF anyways. like most of my ideas -writing and especially drawing. my muse is so dang fickle. i could come up with ocs and plots and dumb banter/dialogue and i can get to vague sketch stage with drawings but after that it’s like uhhhh... i lose steam i guess..

but yeah... how monster-y big dude is, is well up for debate i guess

but yeah. so he appears. and the shapeshifter monsterboy king dude is thinking it’s gonna go like ‘k. i’m free now. gonna just get rid of the people who freed me with a condescending thanks and then take over the world mwahahaha”

but it does not go like that. at all.

because oh no. the lil guy who freed him is adorable. and he’s so..so happy? but... why? and his first words to him are “wow. you’re amazing! so friggin cool! I wish i looked as bad*ss” or something like that

and the big guy is like all flustered because he’s used to people running and screaming at him and his monsterous appearance. that is partially why he likes to be monstrous looking to be frank.

he never considered how nice it is to be genuinely complimented. or you know to have friends. or even something more~

so he’s at a lost. which is something that’s never happened to him before. making him even MORE at a loss.

and he’s rather amused, impressed with the bravery the wee gal as well. as she looks ready to fight him herself if he even thinks of hurtin’ the lil ray of sunshine guy. it’s kinda.... endearing???

so oops. no world domination. ah, well...

instead he has a best friend and maybe something more with that lovely ray of sunshine man~

and maybe... just maybe... being good and kind... isn’t all that bad?

even if he is a monstrous eldritch giant maybe demon thing.

who says he has to stick to stereotypes. he’s BIG. he can do what he wants. right?

and i dunno after that..

I’m thinking. that this is when they find out he’s sorta attached to the castle for some reason. and thus stuck in his BIG monsterboy  mode (as well as stuck to a certain area). and thus beyond being stuck to the vicinity in the castle and near the castle atm he can’t temporarily shapeshift to human in order to more easily travel with them as they do their ghost/cryptid hunting anyways.

so the next phase of the maybe story is the human duo and their monster trying to figure out how to f r e e h i m. like even more so than they already did heh.

and once they do that - uh shenanigans happen i guess. cuz you can’t have a g/t story without big(s) and small(s) engaging in shenanigans. that’s like g/t law or something.

and that’s it. that’s the maybe story i will likely never write. 

anywho. if anybody wants to use this as a plot go ahead. i don’t care/mind. it’s not all that original anyways lol. it’s just a bunch of tropes thrown together to make soup (read: a plot) basically. i think. i dunno.

i mean let’s be real. i can’t even say:

people using the same plot in a g/t story? more likely than you think.

because we all effing know the same plots are used in g/t stories over and over again. ain’t no one able to pretend that isn’t common lol.

but that’s okay. because everyone has their own style of writing. and a lot of us are desperate for more g/t content anyway so we ain’t gonna complain regardless.

not sure if these last few sentences could be considered a call out or sh**post or something but i don’t really care. it is what it is.

[liu-anhuaming]

i have an oral presentation in front of the class tomorrow morning and i’m soooo nervous T-T helpppp me please >.<

okay so i'm gonna try my best to help, but idk if i have good advice :')

idk if this is in-person or over video, so i'll try and give advice for both

no matter the format, you don't want to just be reading off of your notes/slides, so make sure you look away from whatever notes you have to "make eye contact" with the audience (more on this in second). this requires a combination of practice before your presentation as well as reading ahead in your notes while presenting. i would be saying a sentence but at the same time i would be looking ahead at the next sentence so i could say that one without looking at my notes. i think this is just considered general presentation etiquette, and i guarantee your teacher will be happy about this.

as for that making eye contact thing, here's what i would do when looking away from my notes: i would look towards the audience, but not actually *at* them. i would maybe look at someone's forehead, or the spot just above their head, but i wouldn't make actual eye contact with them. i feel like this gave the impression i was kinda interacting with the class in some when when actually my eyes were totally unfocused and i wasn't registering anything that i saw. also, if possible, don't just look at one person the whole time, that might start getting a little awkward for both of you lol

if you're doing a presentation through zoom or any other video call-type app, then one trick i've done in the past is putting my notes on small notecards and taping them to my laptop near my camera. this way i don't have to look down or to the side to see my notes, and it also kinda gives the illusion that i'm looking at the camera.

if you're like me and your hands start shaking when you present, try and have something you can hold on to so it's not so obvious. my best presentations were the ones where i could stand behind a podium or something similar, because i would put my notes on the podium, then rest my hands on the podium as well. having something like that made me feel steadier if i'm being honest.

i also think it’s important to practice your presentation at least once before the real thing happens. it’s helpful to run through your presentation on you own before class. even if this means just mumbling to yourself at your desk, then that’s fine. when you practice ahead of time, you’re going to have a better feeling for the flow and structure of your presentation. you won’t have every word memorized, but you’ll have a general idea of what you’ll be saying next, and that’s still really helpful. i’ve always felt a little less stressed about presenting when i’ve practiced beforehand. i feel like i know what i’m doing, and thus feel a little calmer. 

if this is a thing where there's multiple people presenting on the same day, try to present as early as possible. this might feel more stressful, because no one else has presented and you're kinda unsure about what to do, but i guarantee it will help you feel less stressed later. say, for example, you have a 45 minute class. if you present 10 minutes into the class, you now have 35 minutes to relax and watch other presentations. whereas if you present 40 minutes into the class, that's 40 minutes you're going to spend stressed as fuck. the quicker you get it over with the better.

most importantly, though: don’t rush. sometimes when i would present i’d start rushing through my slides because i just wanted to be done. do not do this!! when you start to rush, you’re gonna start making mistakes. instead, try to just focus on speaking at a moderate pace, and take short pauses to breathe. the last thing you want is to get out of breath and then start like choking or smth halfway through a sentence. that just throws you off in so many ways.

idk how old you are or what experience you have with presentations, but here’s just some general advice i’d give to people who haven’t done many presentations yet: just try and remember that you’re still learning how it’s all done, and mistakes are bound to happen. hell, i still would make mistakes all the time even after 8+ years of presenting in class. it happens, and you shouldn’t be too harsh on yourself if you do make mistakes. 

also, i bet a good number of your classmates are also stressed about presenting in some way. and they probably won’t care too much if you do make a mistake. in my experience, when a classmate made a mistake i would just feel sympathetic. like, been there done that. so don’t worry too much what other people think if you make a mistake or two.

hopefully this can help you in some way! and good luck on your presentation!!

[amphtaminedreams]

Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 2/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

First of all, thank you! I have never had a post do as well as the part 1 of my haute couture week review did and I am so overwhelmed with the positive feedback. This is probably funny to read for those of you getting thousands of reblogs on your posts, me acting like I won an academy award because I got a couple of hundred, but honestly I don’t expect any traction when I write on here (it’s basically just me word vomiting everything I’m thinking as if people want to hear it aka. mouthing off into what I thought was the void) so if you did read it, thank you! I do spend a long-ass time on these so it means a lot:-)

I’ll leave the self-indulgent ramble there though as it’s probably not what you came for and jump straight into part 2 of my thoughts, starting with Jacquemus. Yeah, I knew what I was doing when I tagged that in my last post. Simon Porte Jacquemus is the man of the *fashion* people right now; I’ve even found myself coming round to the Le Chiquito bag despite my original thought being “well, that’s fucking useless”. I know, I know, technically it’s not haute couture; it was part of Men’s Fashion Week, but it happened around the same time and everyone was talking about it on Twitter, so I feel like I have to include it.

In a way, it kind of reminds me of Bottega Veneta’s last RTW show, in that, especially with the women’s outfits, we seem to be sticking with simple, fitted garments and chunky, more statement jewellery. I’ve got to say I like the styling here a lot more though, and in general I’m a fan of this collection. The collared tops with cut outs underneath blazers are cool and I can’t wait until it gets warm enough for me to not feel dumb wearing my headscarfs like this; there’s a LOT of summer outfit inspiration. It’s not a mind-blowing collection or anything but it is effortlessly sexy and that’s something I wish I could say about myself. Most of us can only hope to look half as good as these models do whilst making the effort but at least Jacquemus is aspirational, lol. 

I also fucking adore this colour palette. I’m sick of neutrals literally just meaning brown and white; the navy, sand and muted khaki is a fresh edition to what is usually interpreted as the colours you’d seen worn by Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff and only Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff. And I mean, come on-what is more neutral than typical English school carpet blue.

Next for the whole reason I had to make this haute couture week review 2 separate posts: Jean Paul Gaultier’s final show.

In the best way possible, it’s a lot. I don’t even really know where to start, except to say that I guess this is a fitting last show; a celebration of everything campy, messy, weird, performative, and punk is the perfect send off for a brand whose best known perfume of the last few years is called Scandal. More than anything, the final show represented the range of characters and cultures that have influenced JPG throughout his half-a-decade-long career, the lines that supposedly separate what is “masculine” and “feminine”, “old” and “young” and ultimately art and fashion blurred in the most exaggerated way possible. Sure, there are some looks which are individually a bit messy here but the way they were grouped into almost chapter-like segments meant that when you see them all together, they work. Nods to the patterns and structures that recurred from season to season were sprinkled throughout, from sailor stripes to corsets to the expected whirlwinds of colour. I’ll even allow the wellies in that one outfit; if I can get over bucket hats in Peter fucking Pilotto’s last RTW show, I can get over some questionable shoes here. Middle aged fishermen and boys who liked to pose with monster carp in their Tinder pictures as some weird display of masculinity everywhere rejoice.

Now onto a show that I personally found slightly disappointing: Margiela.

I think this one is a bit TOO weird for me. Like if you’re gonna go avant-garde, go all out. Chiffon gimp masks (I don’t know if that’s the intention here but that’s what I’m getting, sorry Maison) are something I’m not particularly fond of and I’ve never been a fan of the Tabi boots in the first place, let alone when they’ve seemingly been blown up to Michelin man style proportions. I didn’t find the show to be a total lost cause-I enjoyed the colour palette and I’ve always liked that contrast stitching detail, plus the bowler hats are interesting-but on the whole considering how much I liked the last RTW show, this is a bit of a let down. 

The looks I included are salvageable but (I feel mean saying this) there were genuinely a lot of pieces that did just resemble bits of fabric draped over each over with no discernible rhyme or reason, so much so that they reminded me of some of the monstrosities I saw at a Drag Race pub quiz this one time where we had 5 mins to make some garms out of loo roll and then have a team member model them for points down a makeshift runway. 

Ralph and Russo was alright. There were a few pieces that I really liked but again, I can’t help but compare this collection to the last, where it felt like the fussy details of bows and sequins and feathers and the Barbie Dreamhouse palette were utilised with a direction in mind. Here, I don’t get that. As ever, the gowns are gorgeous and I’d pay good money just to try one on for five minutes but as an overall collection I’d say there was a lack of higher vision, which is probably the snobbiest sentence I’ve ever written so forgive me.

As for Ronald Van Der Kemp, I could’ve done without including it to be honest, if it weren’t for the few pieces I’m in love with: the velvet cape, fur trimmed jacket and blue satin dress are probably my favourite pieces here.

So onto a collection I liked a lot more: Schiaparelli. 

The influence of nature from flowers in bloom to insects to the organic structure of the human skeleton is as present as ever, though this collection includes a lot more delicate symbolism than usual. Honestly, the details make it for me; the brooches, earrings and facial jewellery are other-worldly touches to outfits that could otherwise be simple fashion magazine editor on-the-go. That’s not in itself a bad thing! The suits are gorgeous. I mean, I’m talking fashion editor in New York in a power suit yelling orders down the phone while she rushes along with a coffee. A Miranda Priestley in the making type woman. THAT’S a modern take on the divine feminine that Maria Grazia should’ve been going for; our goddesses aren’t women who sit around looking pretty (though that helps too) and place curses on mere mortals anymore, they’re women who get shit done. 

With regards to Valentino, which was also a delight, let me start by saying this colour palette is EVERYTHING. It’s ugly sisters in Cinderella fantastic, and we know those 2 were the real fashion icons really. Other than that, I adore the Old Hollywood silhouettes from the gloves to the Liz Taylor-in-Cleopatra-level-dramatic earrings. Everything is opulent and expensive-looking and pretty much what we’ve all come to expect from Valentino. A strong 8/10.

For me personally, Viktor and Rolf was a standout and one of my favourite collections of haute couture week. It’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea and I know it’s at the complete opposite end of the spectrum to what was probably my other favourite collection, Elie Saab, but this is just my style down to a T, the perfect balance of grungy and cutesy that I want to achieve. 

There’s probably going to be a lot of objections to the temporary face tattoos and I get that, but I think they’re fucking sick. I obviously wouldn’t get a permanent one lest my mother murder me in cold blood however if I did, you bet I would be pairing them with frilly-ass babydoll dresses that you could pick up in Camden Market like this. 

And last but not least (that would be Dior), there’s Zuhair Murad.

Sigh.

IDK, man. Seeing Zuhair Murad dresses on Tumblr and WeHeartIt (remember that site? It still exists!) as a 14 year old was one of the things that got me into fashion, so it sucks that almost every time a new collection comes around, I feel underwhelmed. Disappointingly, the brand hasn’t really progressed all that much since 2013. It goes without saying that the stoning and the embroidery and sequins are stunning and would make anyone feel like a princess but from a critical point of view, I’m just not seeing anything new here. Whereas I feel like Elie Saab, for example, reflected the growing fascination with East Asian fashion and recognition of the supremacy of the region’s street style in his haute couture last collection, Zuhair Murad seems to be stuck designing the same dresses he was 6 years ago. 

To pick one example, the rounded stoned necklines are so outdated that they’ve been making their way onto department store prom dresses for years. I get that it’s supposed to be a reference to Ancient Egyptian style and I respect that, I was one of those 8 year old that was obsessed with mummies and the “Curse of Tutankhamun”, but couldn’t it be done in a more interesting way? It’s Maria Grazia’s spin on Ancient Greece all over again. Now I get how how the I imagine very niche subsection of people who are into fashion and Julius Caesar (okay, so I don’t even know if they still believed in mythology and all that malarky at that point in history but just roll with my comparison here) might’ve felt going through Vogue Runway. Anyway, I hate to end on a critical note and so be clear, these are still absolutely magnificent dresses. If we ignore those ugly round necklines, that is.

So that’s it for this post! If you read part 1 and 2, I hope you enjoyed it! As always, let me know your opinions and feel free to disagree. I’m literally just about to start trawling through all the A/W 2020 RTW collections though I imagine that’s gonna take me way longer to do than this, so I wouldn’t expect that for a month or two. In the meantime, I’m trying to fit shooting a Euphoria-inspired lookbook into my days off work which is looking atm like it’s going to be the end of March, so look out for that, and also a review of the red carpet fashion from this season’s award shows. 

As ever, thank you so much for reading and again, thank you for the reception on part 1 if you were one of the people that read it. It makes staying up til 3am with the jitters seem worthwhile, lol! 

Lauren x

[poptod]

Brought To Your Knees (Kenny x Reader)

Description: 7-Elevens are a lot more versatile than one might originally think. AKA, sometimes you can get locked in them with your long-time crush and, following that, things can happen.

Notes: Freshman means you’re around 14-15 years old, Sophomore is 15-16 I think, Junior is 16-17, Senior is 17-18. Idk the American schooling system too well. Completely male reader.

Warning: Smut :) not sure why its there but hey everyone needs a gratuitous blow job every now and then

Word Count: 6.1k

You were expecting rain. You even brought an umbrella along, tucked away in the side pocket of your backpack, but an umbrella clearly wouldn’t work very well. Snow fell harsh upon the earth, cold and freezing near instantly, making a very thick layer of snow trap you inside the 7-Eleven, the doors frozen shut despite the fact that the heating was still on.

How exactly one gets trapped inside a 7-Eleven with the only person they’ve ever really loved probably needs some explaining, so let’s go back to the beginning; seven years ago. Seven years ago you transferred schools due to an unfortunate accident with a classmate, at least that’s what’s on your record. Half of you is grateful no one knows what really happened, but the other half wishes people knew you punched someone in the face hard enough to dislocate their nose. Though, looking at you, most people probably wouldn’t believe you, considering you haven’t got the strongest body structure. Your (at the time) new school was better than the last one in several ways, but the most important to you was the fact that it was a public school. There were horror stories about public schools, of unruly students and horrible teachers, and by god did you want to experience that - private school was far too clean, far too organized for your mind, and you were going slowly insane.

If there’s a term to describe you, it’d probably be ‘thrill seeker,’ if asshole can’t be said out loud. For the first couple of years you were a nuisance to classrooms, the well known class clown and always up for distracting the teacher (the history teachers were the easiest to distract, math teachers the hardest), and always ready to fight back for what you believed was right. Then came your first year of high school and you found the greatest thrill of all - boys.

Previously you hadn’t taken much of a romantic interest in either gender, and most people said it’d kickstart sometime in high school, which was about right - freshman year you had a crush on a boy named Everett. It wasn’t a particularly strong crush, not compared to your more recent crushes, but it was your first, and you knew exactly what you wanted to do. You wanted him to fall in love with you, hopelessly and endlessly, you wanted him to hang on your every word and dream of your affections... but you didn’t want to be in a relationship with him. No, you just wanted his adoration, and nothing more - only to lead him on and drop his heart to break it. When this didn’t happen and he didn’t fall in love with you, you realized that most boys are not attracted to other boys, and you became deathly silent when it came to crushes.

Several other boys (and maybe a girl) caught your fancy in the remainder of freshman year, but there was one boy you hadn’t yet met that would become the greatest thrill of all. Junior year you had a class with him, and on the first day of school when you walked into English class your bag fell from your hands, clattering to the floor with a loud thump.

He is perfect, in every conceivable way he’s everything you’ve ever imagined, shy and kind, sincere and genuinely interesting - just the sight of him from that day on and your heart speeds up tenfold. You’re a horror story that teachers talk about, so Mr. Davis is clearly flabbergasted at your silence, and for the most part he leaves you alone even though you’re barely paying attention to the blackboard at the front of the classroom. Instead your attention is focused on the boy sitting two seats in front of you and a row to the right. It’s almost surprising he hasn’t noticed your staring, but clearly Mr. Davis notices because about two months into the school year he pulls you aside to talk about it.

“I wanted to talk to you about your attention,” he says quietly, sitting behind his desk as you stand at the other side. You’re playing absentmindedly with your fingers, barely listening to him, only staying where you are to avoid another hour of detention today. “I know you’re usually very loud in class, word gets around easily here, but you’re staring at your classmate a lot.”

“And?” You ask, not really seeing the point. In your mind, he should be thankful you’re not a disruption.

“Is… is there anything you want to tell me? About Kenny?”

“Who’s Kenny?”

“… that’s the boy you keep staring at,” he says slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Ah, you think to yourself. That’s his name.

“Listen, (Y/N), I want you to know you’re always welcome in my classroom. This is a safe space for you, okay?” His voice goes to a whisper as he says, “I have a boyfriend, so we aren’t so different after all.”

“I’m not gay,” you spit out quickly, the venomous tone of your voice not deterring him.

“I know it can be hard to admit at first, and at your age I understand the confusion within yourself. Just know you can talk to me, okay? And try to pay more attention in class? I know you’ve got it in you.”

Without word you pick your backpack up from the floor, slinging it onto your shoulders and leaving. Just as you exit the main doors, noting the dark clouds low in the sky, you’re called back by one of the vice principals, ordering you to your detention.

“C’mon, it’s Friday,” you groan, walking backwards to stare at the teacher as you walk away.

“I’ll call your parents!” She threatens, whipping her flip phone out of her pocket.

“Oh yeah? What are they gonna do? Fuck off,” you laugh, throwing double middle-fingers at her, which lands you in three hours of detention.

At five thirty you’re released, an absolutely sour look on your face as you walk down the pavement. There’s a seedy part of the city that has a 7-Eleven you’ve been to so often you know the workers’ shifts. All of them are pretty nice, though all very tired of life and if you had to hazard a guess, mildly suicidal. At least that’s the look in their eyes, and you don’t blame them - customer service is one of the most horrid jobs in history. Friday evenings Alan has shift, and he’s rather nice, but upon opening the freezing door to the inside, you don’t see him. The door shuts behind you and you wander the aisles for a little while - you don’t have much change, you note as your fingers fiddle with the coins and bills in your coat pocket.

Several minutes later your attention is brought to the weather - it’s snowing, bad, and you groan internally at the wind force practically blowing down the stop sign out front. The few trees that survive in the city are barely hanging on now, flimsy limbs and branches ripping away from the main trunk. Again you groan, a grimace on your face when you think about having to go home in that. With a calming sigh you turn back to the hotdogs, spinning slow and peaceful in the warm light.

Heaven is one big 7-Eleven, you think to yourself. One of the very few things that calms you down is rotating hot dogs that probably aren’t real meat.

From the corner of your eye you can see someone else enter, but the wind blasting through the doors is enough for you to turn your head.

It’s Kenny.  

Of course it’s him.

Gulping you turn back to the hot dogs, hoping beyond belief that Alan will get back soon. Kenny is the only person that’s ever rendered you speechless, the only one that’s ever made your cheeks blush without a word. Even in fluorescent light he seems to glow, peaceful and careful as his fingers drag a feather touch across a row of snacks. He hasn’t noticed you, not yet, so you have time to plan out how to hide from him. Instantly you turn to the cash register, wondering if you’d get kicked out of Alan found you hiding behind the counter.

Too late - you can feel his eyes turn to you, burning into the back of your neck as you hold a viselike grip on the edge of the plastic red counter.

“Um, do you, uh, work here?” He asks, now standing directly behind you. Trying to smile, you turn to face him, feeling your heart burn with the speed it beats at.

“No, I - I just know the guys who work here, I don’t know where they are now, though,” you say, oversharing a little bit and praying he doesn’t notice. He’s right in front of you, half confused as his lips part just barely, brows furrowing above grey eyes. You can practically feel your legs giving out beneath you, but he turns to the door before you fall in front of him. Practically gasping for air as he leaves your personal space, you watch as he goes to open the door.

“Is... is this supposed to be locked?” He asks.

“No, it shouldn’t be,” you breathe out, making your way over to the door to try and open it. It’s stuck, hard - you even back up to kick it and it doesn’t budge.

“Wait, you’re… you’re (Y/N), aren’t you?”

“You know me?” You ask incredulously, even though it’s not that farfetched that he would know your name.

“Of course I do, you’re like a legend at school,” he says, getting quieter as his sentence ends. As he fiddles with his fingers, awkwardly trying to look somewhere else, you can’t help but stare as you nearly always do.

“I’m flattered,” is what you manage to say, just as choked and embarrassed as him.

“I’ll stay out of your way, just - just don’t beat me up?” He requests, holding his hands up defensively as he backs away towards the corner of the small store.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I don’t do that,” you say, taken aback by his words. You know your reputation isn’t great, but you didn’t think it was that awful - you’d never beat up an innocent person and you didn’t plan on starting. “What are you doing here anyway? I haven’t seen you here before.”

“Um, my friend… he told me to meet him at the library, but the weather got bad and I needed to get inside,” he explains, still not meeting your eye.

God you’re perfect, you think to yourself in reaction to nothing in particular - he’s just so beautiful, so supple you can’t help but wonder what he’d feel like with his bare skin against yours. More than anything you want to belong to him, which you realize is strange for you; generally you enjoy others belonging to you, but… Kenny is different for no reason, but he’s so incredibly special you can’t understand your infatuation beyond the fact that it’s insurmountable and achingly enduring.

“I might be able to make a flamethrower,” you say, trying to think of ways to not be suffocated by nearness to the object of your unending affections.

“Wait, a flamethrower? What -“ he follows you frantically as you begin to search for flammable sprays - “what for!?”

“The door is frozen shut, we might be able to get out if I melt the ice away,” you say quickly, but he’s pulling at your arms to stop you from digging through the shelves. At the force you whirl around, face to face with him as your chest practically touches his, and in an instant you can’t breathe for fear of losing the moment. You both pause, frozen into shock before he steps back like you’re poison.

“I don’t think that’s, uh, necessary,” he says slowly, and just as slow you agree, nodding as you put the lighter away.

“Sure. You have a phone?”

“No, you?”

“I keep mine at home,” you mumble, untensing as the adrenaline of the moment fades away.

“Well this sucks,” he huffs, crossing his arms and turning awkwardly to the shelves as though he didn’t want you to see his face. “At least it could be worse.”

“No, don’t say that, the power’s gonna go -“

Darkness falls over the store and the heating system goes quiet, the dull background hum going out. A loud sigh comes out of you, letting your eyes accustom to the dark before thinking of what to do next.

“I think we might be stuck here till morning,” you grumble, the dim light of streetlamps casting a gold glow over the various rows and, of course, putting Kenny in a perfectly beautiful light. You can practically feel the blood rushing into your cheeks, and you quickly look away with crossed arms.

“I’m… sorry,” he says rather suddenly, just barely making his way closer to you.

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. “A beautiful coincidence.”

“… beautiful?” He asks, confused by your wording - it can’t possibly be a good thing to him.

“Yeah, I -“ you look over at him, fiddling anxiously with his fingers as he looks up at you - “Never mind. You tired?”

“No, don’t think i will be for a while,” he says, sitting with his back against the refrigerated drinks, the back of his head clunking against the cold glass.

“I’ll get a flashlight and a boardgame,” you tell him, the only idea in your head that didn’t sound stupid; the entire time you’re looking through the back for games, you’re kicking the thought of cuddling him out of your mind. The situation is perfect, far too perfect for it to work out well. Besides, these types of things generally don’t work out for you - as previously said, you’re a bit of an asshole, and that trait has a tendency to screw you over.

He just sits and waits, and when you come back a good five or ten minutes later, he’s still sitting in the same position. It strikes you as odd how he hasn’t even fidgeted considering how much he was doing it earlier, but you just shine the light in his face and cackle when he winces away from the brightness.

“All they had is chess. I guess Marie took back her game, which is fair,” you add as you sit yourself down across from him, putting the box in the middle of you two. “She got fired a while back and didn’t get her game when she left. I helped get her a key for the backroom,” you recall, chuckling, but Kenny looks partially terrified, so you stop.

“You know how to play?” He asks, rubbing his hands together as he starts setting it up.

“A bit. My brother tried to teach me when we were little, I never caught on much though,” you say, thinking distantly of how your brother was doing in university. “He’s a big math guy, loves strategy games like this.”

“So you don’t like strategy…?” He asks slowly, as though worried he’d offend you - you just shrug.

“It’s not that. I’m… just more of a romantic guy.”

For a good three seconds he doesn’t breathe, but when you raise your eyebrows questioningly, he picks up again with an absent nod. Once the last pieces are set into place, he does a quick run-through of the rules, and by the end of it you’re fully aware you’re going to lose at least the first few rounds. Neither of you have a grasp on time as you go through the first round, then the second, and onto the third - you lose very fast, that’s all you’re aware of. He’s sweet about it, for which you’re confused if not thankful. If you were to play chess with some of the people you hang with, they’d be mean about winning and they’d cheat on you, which is fair; you’d do the same to them. Now you’re being nice, trying to actually understand the game, and he’s being a complete sweetheart about teaching you the rules.

It isn’t something you’re used to, but it’s something you could be used to, and something you want to be used to - this sort of kindness. Despite all the thoughts running rampant in your head you manage to stay concentrated on the game - well, him more so than the game - and it almost feels like he might like you. That’s an improvement, you think to yourself, recalling his initial fear of you.

“Could I ask you something? If you don’t mind,” he requests after you both come down from a laughing high, and you agree easily. It’s only far too easy to be open with him. “There’s lots of stories that go around about you - there’s this one, this one’s my favorite, mostly because I don’t think it really happened, but it is really funny.”

“Really? Well, rumors are half right sometimes. What horrid thing did I do this time?” You ask, using the bottle opener on your swiss knife to pop open a beer bottle.

“It’s mostly just… inappropriate, not that it was a particularly ‘bad’ thing. I heard you… slept with Isla and Gianna like, at the same time, like every high school boys’ dream. The guy I heard tell it said you snuck into a sleepover or something?” He says slept like it’s disgusting, so that paired with absolutely everything else about him you assume he’s very unexperienced.

“That’s an interesting story, which I - I don’t usually tell the truth about,” you confess, waiting for him to make his next move in the game, but the moment never comes. He’s far too engrossed in your conversation, and as wonderful as it feels to be having a real conversation with your crush, you can’t help but hate the subject.

“Will you tell the truth this time?” He asks, quiet and sincere in a way that you don’t fully expect. It pushes you to trust him just a little bit more, and it’s all you need for the truth to come out for the first time about that story.

“I went to sell them some weed because they called me up n’ said they’d pay the price for bothering me so late at night, so y’know, I said ‘fuck it,’ you only live once right? I climbed into Gianna’s window for this too, and then they offered for me to share it with them. To be fair to myself I wasn’t feeling… too great about myself,” you grow quiet, “so I said yes. And then they started bringing up sex, and they kept trying to get me to make a move on them, but I wasn’t really feeling it. I didn’t want to do it, but it.. sort of happened anyway?”

He’s quiet, sort of nodding his head but he’s too far in thought to commit to the motion fully.

“Why haven’t you told anyone the truth before?” Is what he asks at first, and you breathe out a sigh of relief when you realize it’s one of the easier questions.

“Didn’t want to seem like a pussy, that’s why,” you scoff, taking a smooth swig from your bottle. “It’s not a big deal anyway.”

“Kind of sounds like it,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a virgin,” you say, that asshole part of yourself that you were so worried about earlier rearing it’s ugly head. Right on time too, right when you could’ve opened your heart.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin. You know what they say,” he says defensively, leaning back against he glass.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“The safest sex is no sex at all.”

“Yeah, and abstinence won’t get you pregnant 99.99% of the time,” you laugh. When he just looks confused, you explain, “Virgin Mary, dude.”

He opens his mouth to let out a tiny ‘oh,’ and at last the game is resumed. Throughout the next several rounds he asks more questions, but those times he doesn’t ever lose track of the game turns. By the end of the night, when you’re both finally yawning with dewey eyes, you’ve only won one round, which you’re very proud of.

“At least I beat you once,” you remark as you help him look for blankets to stay warm with. “I won a round against Mr. Chess Master.”

“And I won fourteen rounds against Mr. Sex,” he says, his eyes bulging out of his head as his hand slaps over his mouth once he realizes exactly what he’s said. You turn to him, shocked yet pleasantly surprised to find him so flustered. Dreadful is how you’d describe him, dreading your full reaction.

“Those aren’t the rounds that matter if I’m Mr. Sex,” you respond, trying to remain as smooth and deep as possible when you wink to punctuate your sentence. His mouth falls open when his hand drops back to his side, and you walk out of the storage room with a small smile.

You heave a massive sigh, gathering yourself back together once the door shuts behind you. It only takes a few seconds before he’s following you, but it’s all that’s necessary for you to gain your chill again.

“It’ll probably be easier to sleep back here,” you say, gesturing vaguely to the entirety of the backroom - it’s a tad warmer and carpeted, which is a plus for comfort. The one office chair is cheap and heavily scratched by god knows what, so you roll it into the corner and lay out a blanket on the floor. It’s not an especially nice blanket, which is what you expected. The only real source of warmth you have access to is the leftover coats from employees who didn’t care to take theirs home.

As you lay down on the blanket, covering yourself in a too-large trench coat, you wonder of the different ways the evening could progress. In fact it’s all you can think about, all your brain can stress about when Kenny lies down right beside you. He has his coat as a pillow, and without word you offer your coat to help cover him - he declines, mumbling something about how he’s already warm.

I could kiss him right now, you think, the thought sending shivers of anxious excitement and fear through your veins. He’s staring at the ceiling, and though your body is facing the same direction you’re looking at him, watching the slow movement of his chest and the tired blinking of his eyes. Or we could leave and never talk again.

You don’t know what you’re doing, hardly aware of your own movements as the back of your fingers caress the side of his face, pushing unruly hair away from his eyes. His breath catches in his chest for a moment before he turns to you, eyes wide but curious despite the obvious fear.

“You’re really handsome,” he barely gets out, a whisper that he stumbles over. Judging by his uncertainty in himself you’re confident in saying he’s being sincere - that and the fact that nothing about him insinuates he’d lead you on like that. There’s so many silent words shared between you, a bond that one hold tights while the other wonders how it’s possible.

One wrong move, you think, one wrong move and I fuck this up, just like everything else. The urge to hold him close, to grab his hands and keep them intertwined in your own runs strong through your cold fingertips, but you wait. You wait for him to make the first move, but he doesn’t even blink; he’s far too enraptured in the way your lips part just slightly, the way your eyelashes flutter when you glance nervously up and down.

“I really like you,” you say, though the words don’t fully come from your conscious self. Something grabs you, ties away your thoughts and says what you mean - exactly what you mean, something you hardly ever do. He reaches up towards your hand lying dormant beside his cheek, trailing over your skin till he tangles his fingers in yours, holding your hand tight in his as he presses a kiss to your knuckles. The entire time you stare, watching his eyes flit downwards as a blush you can barely see in the dark crawls up into his face.

In a swift movement the old coat is off of you, crumpled in some corner as you rest your forearms on either side of his head, supporting your body held above him. His breathing picks up and at last he finally looks into your eyes again, careful to watch for any sign of what comes next, but even you aren’t sure as to what you’re doing. Still you move down, inching closer till your lips press against his.

He’s clearly startled, even though he immediately moves against you, kissing up into you even if his hands don’t know where to go. In your position you can do very little, but you manage to thread your hand into his hair, tugging on it lightly as you move deeper, pulling a tiny, broken hum from him. When his hands wrap around your wrists it’s painfully obvious he’s never done this before, so you break away, letting the both of you breathe and smile when it’s finally, fully, consciously realized what just happened. It’s so starkly different than any other romantic encounter you’ve had, so openly loving and yielding you wonder if you’ll ever be able to kiss anyone but him again.

“I’ve waited so long to do that,” you murmur, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck. He almost laughs, breathy and unsure as he runs his fingers down your spine.

“You could’ve done it sooner,” he tells you, whispering the words into your ear, his lips tickling the edge of it as he speaks. “I’ve had a crush on you for months.”

“Really?” You ask, pulling away to look at him fully. He stammers when you rest your weight on his hips, the heat of your thrill burning through the layers of clothes to intoxicate him. “I haven’t ever seen you look at me once in class.”

“We have class together?”

“I sit behind you, Kenny. English class,” you chuckle, watching his lips purse together in embarrassment.

“I mostly watch you during lunch. I - I never said anything because… well, you know why,” he mumbles, once more unsure of where his hands are supposed to go, so he crosses them on his chest.

“I know,” you say, quiet as you think over your words. “You still could’ve come up to me, but… this works too.”

He breaks into a grin, giggling when you join him till you’re both coming down from a high - as the wide grins dissolve into contented smiles, you kiss again, moving slow and soft, softer than the girls you’d been with, sweeter and more innocent than any love you’ve known.

“It’s strange you know,” you mumble against his lips, interrupting yourself by kissing him again. “I usually go for degenerates, you know, people like me?” You kiss him again, deep and needy - “but God, I’ve never adored someone as much as I adore you.”

“Really?” He manages to get out amidst your attack, trying to get ahold of a rhythm you could kiss him to but you’re chaotic, switching from his lips to his jawline and pressing kisses up his neck.

“Yeah,” you rasp out, the beginnings of a hickey blooming red on his neck.

“Oh, I - oh, don’t leave a mark,” he says, but by the way he tugs at your hair and pulls you closer, you’re sure he really wants you to.

“Let me guess, strict parents?” You ask, pulling away to look at your work. He nods as though it’s something to be ashamed of, but you just sigh and smile, tracing his jawline with your fingers. “This is probably the only time we’ll be able to make lots of noise, though.”

“You mean this’ll happen more times?”

“If you want it to. I want it to,” you say, watching as he nods furiously.

“Yes, please,” he practically whimpers, pulling you in for another searing kiss, his new ferocity biting at your lips and making you moan. You’re grinding on him, hardly realizing your actions before you’re both far too worked up from the friction.

“Fuck, I need you,” you say, your hands going up his shirt to scratch at the soft skin there.

“I haven’t ever done this before,” he tells you, almost glaring at you when you mumble, ‘I knew it,’ but the glare is quickly cut short when you palm at him through his jeans.

“Do you want this? We don’t have to, you deserve better,” you stop for a moment, letting your hand grip at his hip while the other strokes soothingly through his hair.

“Better than a quick fuck in the back room of a 7-Eleven? Probably,” he says, a smile breaking across your face at his humorous tone. There’s a delight that runs through you when you hear him swear, but you try not to think about it. “But I don’t think either of us are gonna be able to sleep well with… this.”

“Fair enough,” you say with a shrug, pulling him back into a kiss.

With fumbling hands he works at your pants, managing to unbutton the ragged material and push them partially down your hips. You do the same for him before pulling his shirt off, kissing down what you find to be a surprisingly toned chest. For as much as he’s bullied he’s incredibly attractive and rather fit, and for a second you wonder why he’s bullied so much, before remembering a lot of people are pretty racist, and the whole ‘being gay’ thing was pretty obvious to everyone.

A long, saccharine moan is pulled from his lips, forcing you to think only of him. At the sound you practically gape, a sudden virility going straight to your cock, which is now straining painfully against your boxers. You can’t remember what it was you did that made him moan like that, so you do everything you think could work - it proves a lot for him to handle. Tiny gasps leave him as you trace your fingernails over his chest, biting tiny love marks into his ribs as your own chest occasionally rubs against his crotch.

“(Y/N), please, just friggin’ touch me,” he whines, his head thrown back and staring blankly at the ceiling, too focused on the sensations to care. You almost laugh at his desperation, but when he grabs your hair and practically grinds his dick into your face, you don’t. As demanding as it is you can’t help but acquiesce. You mouth at him through the fabric, and by the time he’s begging you again there’s a prominent wet spot on his underwear from where you sucked. When at last you begin to pull them down he looks at you, watching intently with flushed cheeks as he’s fully exposed to you.

Standing, you undress yourself, making a little show of it when you notice him staring. The moment you finish you’re back on him, just as needy as he is when your bare cock brushes up against his; his shoulders shake at the contact, and he falls back onto the floor, his eyes shut tight. To soothe the ache you kiss him, as tender as it was when you first kissed, and he finally lets out an anxious breath when you part.

“Tell me what you want,” you murmur, running your hand slowly down his chest till you reach his waist, your fingers just barely curling around him and pumping slower than what he deems should be possible.

“I just need you, anything, please,” he replies, breathy and still as wanting as ever.

“God, you really like begging for me, don’t you?” You tease, smirking when he just whines as you speed up your pace. With a kiss to his neck you whisper in his ear, “I love hearing you moan, though.”

“Then make me moan,” he says thoughtlessly, regretting his words when you smirk and move down his body. Regret is the last thing on his mind however, once you wrap your lips around the tip of his dick, sucking and practically drooling as you pump him.

“You taste wonderful,” you hum, attempting to take him deeper.

As experienced as you are it’s chiefly with girls (even if you aren’t as attracted to them, it’s just easier to pretend like you are), and this would technically be the first time you’ve sucked dick. It’s a lot harder than girls make it seem, you note to yourself, but try to take him deeper anyway. A long whine tumbles from his lips when you both realize you don’t have a very strong gag reflex and take him to the hilt, sucking and still roaming the expanse of his thin waist with your hands. He’s close, you can feel him twitch in your mouth, paired with the precum dripping off him and into you, but he yanks you away by your hair and pulls you up for another passionate kiss.

“What about you?” He asks, panting, and you almost laugh again - it’s so odd for someone to ask about you first.

“The sight of you like this is enough for me,” you assure him, laying wet kisses that have his eyes fluttering into the back of his head down his neck and onto his shoulder.

As you continue pumping him, focusing the majority of your energy on sucking a hickey into his skin, you hardly notice yourself grinding against him. In fact you only realize you’re doing it when his legs wrap around your hips, pulling you in till your cocks are slotted next to each other, both achingly hard. The intensity of it has both of you coming soon after, the imprint of your nails a semi-permanent fixture on Kenny’s hips, paired well with the blossoming hickey on his clavicle. He’s not the only one marked up by the end, though - angry red streaks line your back from his scratching, and you only notice when you collapse on your back beside him.

“Would you happen to have a rag?” He asks, both of you breaking into giggles soon after.

“I’ll go get paper towels,” you offer, reaching for your underwear before realizing you need to clean up before putting on clothes. Instead you peck his forehead, leaving him smiling as you leave the room.

Eventually you’re both cleaned up, clothes on, and the trench coat is covering the both of you, cuddled tight in the back room of 7-Eleven. When the story gets out, as all stories do at some point, there’s a lot of varying accounts on what happened in the night. The most popular, and probably your least favorite, was that you terrorized him the entire night, and though most people don’t believe it considering how close you and Kenny act, it’s still the most popular. Another theory was that you introduced him to drinking and you stayed up with him all night, drunk out of your minds; you don’t mind that story as much, but he does, so you try to tell people that isn’t what happened.

He does ask at one point if he’s allowed to talk about your relationship, and your answer is an ardent yes, which surprises him. You adore every part of him, and you find no shame in that, even if he thinks you should. Sure, you do get bullied a lot more, but it’s nothing brass knuckles don’t sort out quickly.

It’s an odd pairing, you acknowledge that. Punk doesn’t usually go well with sweetheart nerd, but it works surprisingly well, and for that you’re endlessly grateful. In-between classes you run by his locker even though you’re on separate sides of the school, always kissing him before each class. Your little expeditions leave you late to every class but English, and by the end of the year all your teachers hate you as usual with the exception of Mr. Davis.

“You concentrate a lot better these days. Did my talk help you out any?” He asks after class one summer day. Kenny is waiting outside the class, so you try to find a quick answer.

“Well… a little. I talked to Kenny at least,” you answer with a smile, bidding him a kinder good-bye than you usually give your teachers, saluting him as you close the door.

“Everything alright?” Kenny asks, walking shoulder to shoulder with you down the empty halls of the school.

“Everything’s perfect, sugar,” you answer, your arm hanging around his shoulders.

[dallas-owns-my-ass]

Bad For My Rep.

     Paring: Dallas Winston x Singer! Reader

     Summary: Reader gets forced to sing in a choir as a form of community service.

     Warnings: idk cursing, smoking, vandalizing, prison?

     Tag List: @staygoldponebone​ @botanicaldarling​ @rosecoloureddudez​ @shepards-love​

If you wanted to be added just let me know :)

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     I shook the spray paint can again and held down the button, watching the black line grow in the direction that I moved my hand. I loved everything about spray paint. The sound it makes when you spray or shake it. The variety of colors. The whole style of street art in general.  It was something we had to ourselves, us kids in the street. I finished it off, taking a step back and just looking at it. West Side motherfuckaaa. I thought to myself as I chuckled. 

     “How you gonna like laughing about that in prison?” 

     I whipped my head around to see a cop. A very unamused cop. Fuck. I scanned my surroundings, debating running or not. His car blocked one of the exits and his partner’s in the other. My chances were slim to nonexistent, so being logical for once, I decided to hold my ground. Better to go out like a man right? 

     “You know vandalizing’s a crime? No you probably didn’t. What would some wasted thug know about anything?” he laughed, finding himself amusing. I smirked as I responded.

     “If that’s what you think”

     “C’mon we’re taking your ass right back to jail, and you can explain to a judge why you were out at 3 am spraying gang signs on a public structure.” He pushed me against the wall, handcuffing me. Damn. I really was about to go back to jail. I just got out too. Dally’s gonna kill me. 

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     I was not looking forward to that phone call. But I had to do it if I wanted a chance of getting out of here. I reluctantly picked up the phone and dialed his number. After a couple of seconds, he picked up.

     “Hello?” his voice was deep and raspy. He probably just woke up. 

     “Hey baby”

     “Y/N? What’s wrong?”     

    “Man, something doesn’t always have to be wrong for me to call my boyfriend”

    “Doll, it’s three in the morning... What happened?”

    “Y’know, it’s not really a big deal or anything but.... I may or may not have got arrested again. And I kinda need you to come down here and see if you can bail me out or something.” He let out a long sigh.

    “Babe, how many times have I told you to be more careful?” He was angry. Not that I blamed him though. I would be angry too. I did get angry when he got arrested for some stupid shit. It was my own fault for being careless. 

    “Were you drinking again? Uhh Y/N, how could you be so careless? Do you know what could’ve happened to you if you happened to stumble across the wrong kinda guy? Do you know what happens to pretty, intoxicated, young girls at night on the streets Y/N!” 

     “Yes...” I responded my voice trailing off sheepishly. I hoped it wasn’t evident in my tone that I was hurt. I hated when he yelled at me. And I hated that he was always right. He let out a long sigh.

     “Of course you do. I’m sorry for yellin’ at you doll. It’s just that I can’t help worrying for you. You’re all I got. Besides, if anyone dared to mess with you, you’d kick their ass. You’re one tough broad.” I could feel the smirk on his face as he said that. “I’ll be down at the station in a couple of minutes baby.” He said as he hung up.

     He groaned as he approached the cell where I was being held. That couldn’t be good. 

     “Babe, they said there ain’t no bail this time” Shit. I was either going to jail for a couple more months or getting a shitload of community service hours. Hopefully the latter. 

     “Eeh, don’t worry about it Dal”

     “I’ll just get a few months, that’s all.”

     “Yeah but those months gonna feel like forever without you there.”

     “I’ll be out before you know it. You should go get some sleep baby, it’s late. Or should I say early now?” I leaned in to kiss him through the cell bars. We only got a quick peck before the police officer yelled at us. 

     “Fuck him.” Dally mumbled before leaning in again. The officer basically dragged him out of there after that. I smiled. Classic Dally. 

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     There I was, sitting in my defendant chair, at my trial. Fun times. Dally, Johnny, and Sodapop came. Dally, because he had to, Johnny because he’s my best friend, and Sodapop simply because he had nothing better to do. 

     “Due to past offenses and lack of change in behavior from past prison sentences, I sentence Ms Y/L/N to 45 hours of community service, which can be completed in the span of 35 days at the local church.” 

     “With umm, all due respect your honor, can I just go to jail instead. Y’know sweeping floors and shit just ain’t really my thing.” I looked at Dally. He was smirking, trying to suppress a laugh or something. I sent a nasty glare his way.

     “That type of profanity will not be tolerated in this courtroom Ms. Y/L/N, don’t make me tell you again. And I believe there is a choir that is in need of young members.” 

     “A choir?” I questioned, unimpressed. “You want me to go sing to God for spray painting some bridge? That just messed up man” Soda started laughing, apparently finding this whole situation amusing. “I ain’t takin’ yall to my court shit no more”

     I walked out of the courtroom, Dally trailing along behind me. To say I was pissed was an understatement. How was she gonna make me go sing at some church and say that it’s community service. I mean, yeah I had a good voice, but you just don’t go walking around singing here, it was a quick way to get your ass kicked. Besides, I was supposed to be some hardened criminal or something. You ever see some hardened criminal dancing around on some stage. No. And you can bet your ass you won’t. That’s just how things work around here, and some people aren’t ever going to understand that.

     “C’mon babe, it’s not that bad” he grabbed my arm, pulling me close to him. “I mean at least you’re not locked up somewhere, ‘cause we can still do stuff you know?” he winked. Of course that’s what he thought of, but I couldn’t help but smile. Dallas just had that effect on people. He could make ‘em laugh if he knew them real well. I leaned in for a kiss.

     “Yeah I guess it ain’t so bad.”

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     “I gotta wear this?” I almost yelled, holding up the choir robe. 

     “Why yes dear, it’s mandatory for all performances. Lucky for you, this is only a practice.” the nun replied. I was going to have to change that.

     The nun lead me into the music room. The room got silent the moment I entered. They all recognized me, either from the paper, news, or they saw me in the midst of doing something illegal. This would be the last place they all expected me to show up. But here I was. They soon all resumed what they were doing, going back to their chatter and practicing riffs and other stuff among those activities. A young woman approached me. She was a little taller than me, skinny with straight red hair and thick glasses. She looked familiar somehow.

     “Bass, alto, or soprano?” she asked. “I don’t sing.” 

     “Alto.” she stated. She clapped her hands twice. All the students looked up, and got into their places without even mumbling another word. These guys must be strict. Here’s the little problem with that. I don’t follow rules very well. I never have, and I’ll never care to learn. She dragged me over and placed me in the middle section, in the front. Great, I thought. Now she’s gonna be watching every little thing I do. She sang out “la la la la la la la” and everyone else repeated it back to her. Yeah I wasn’t really feeling that so I didn’t. She repeated the exercise for the third time, and after seeing me not doing it, she pointed at me and called me to the front, right next to her. Here we go again. “la la la la la la la”. I once again ignored her attempt to make me sing. I wasn’t going to do it. Sorry man, it’s bad for my rep. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t want to sing, I loved to. It’s just that I didn’t want to sing in front of a group of people just for them to laugh at me. She closed her hand, silencing everyone else.

     “La la la la la la” I just stared at her and shook my head nonchalantly. She was persistent for she repeated it again. Realizing she wasn’t going to stop until I did, I sung it back quietly and purposely off-key. She shook her head and did it again. This time I sung it right, but still quietly. She nodded her head and smiled, as she made the rest of the choir resume. We continued this and practiced some other classic gospel songs for the rest of the time. 4:30, finally. I went to leave, following all the other students out, but her voice rang out.

     “Y/L/N, stay after.” Great. Just what I needed. 

     “Why weren’t you singing?”

     “I was” I corrected.

     “Doing the bare minimum required is not singing. I know that the only reason you are here is to fulfill your service hours and then go back to being a menace to society after but, while you are here you will not be a burden to my choir. And yes you may have been mumbling the words to the songs incorrectly, but unless you are adding something to the group, you are a burden. So you may want to consider contributing something to this group. Is that understood?”

     “Yeah I guess. I just don’t know what you think I can ‘contribute to this group’. I ain’t got no talent or nothing. All’s I got is drugs and street smarts man.”

     “As I heard before, you have a nice voice, which can be contributed by singing the lead to out next song, don’t you think?” 

     “No I don’t think so. If you think I’m gonna get up and sing by myself in front of God knows who, you’re crazy.”

     “Whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to sing while you’re here, so you might as well try.” she urged, grabbing sheet music and handing it to me. She sat down at the piano. “I’m assuming you’re familiar with ‘Oh Happy Day’?” I nodded in response. “So sing it” she said as she started playing the rhythm on the piano. 

     “Oh happy day” I almost mumbled. She stopped playing.

     “Sing out, nobody’s here to judge you” she started playing from the beginning again. 

     ‘Oh happy day.” I repeated, this time a little louder and clearer. “C’mon you aint gonna scare no one.”

     “Oh happy day” I sung out loudly, my voice vibrating off the walls of the tiny room. “Now you got it.”

----------------------------------------

     I was sitting on the couch, my head on Dally’s shoulder, watching Mickey Mouse with the bois. 

     “So, Y/N, you gonna be singin’ in the choir this Sunday huh?” Soda asked, even though he already knew the answer. “Mhmm” I responded curtly, not wanting anyone else in the gang to know about it.  

     “Blimey Y/L/N, I didn’t know you were in a choir.” Two-Bit explained. “You should’ve told us Y/N, we would’ve came if it meant so much to you.”

     “Lay off it Two-Bit, it’s for community service.” I said, rolling my eyes, lighting a cigarette. That was the last thing I wanted, for all of them to show up to see me mumbling words, wearing some cloak, looking like a complete idiot. 

     “Geez Y/N, it’s not like I asked for your first born child. What’s got you so mad anyways?” he asked as if it wasn’t obvious. What part of forced to sing in a choir wasn’t he getting. I threw the pillow next to me at him lightly. Dally chuckled. 

     “Don’t get so worked up about it doll” he provoked, smirking. “Shut up Dal... What’s everyone gonna think when they see me up there, in some crusty robe. I’m supposed to be tough or something, and singing doesn’t really help with that much”

     “Oh c’mon babe, you’re doing community service hours because you’ve been to jail too many times or something like that. Everyone in there’s already scared of you.” I had to at least let a tiny smirk on my face. He was right. He always was.  “I know” he said smugly. 

     “Huh?” I questioned. “You said all that out loud doll.” Oops. “Fuck you.” I said, sticking my tongue out. 

---------------------------------------

     It was the big day. Fun right? Yeah no. The room was almost full with people and we were about to go on. I didn’t even know people still went to church. Nope. There was no way I was doing this. There were way too many people for my liking. I would just go back to court, and take whatever excessive penalty they gave me. I may go to jail, but at least I’d have my dignity. I was just about to walk out when the teacher came up to me. 

     “You’re really about to leave right now?” she raised her eyebrow. I nodded sarcastically in response. “So all that hard work, all that time and effort, not only put in by you, but by the rest of the choir, you’re just going to throw it away? If you leave right now, not only are you screwing yourself over, but the rest of the choir, and the people who were expecting us to sing today.”

     “You can find someone better to sing my part.” I remarked.

     “Oh, so you’re scared? You’re scared they’re not going to like your voice. You’re scared you’re going to ruin your reputation. You’re scared to show them that you’re exceptionally talented. Now let me tell you something. I don’t care who’s out there today. I don’t care who’s watching or judging us. You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to sing, no matter what. Because I’m not going to let you screw over this whole choir, and more importantly, I’m not going to let you screw up your chance to have a perfectly good opportunity to do something that you may love. So today, you’re going to get up on that stage and you’re going to sing for whoever the hell may be listening. And you’re going to do it well. You owe it to us. After that I don’t give a crap what you do. You can leave and go to jail time instead. Just not today.” she demanded, leading us all out onto the stage. 

     I took my usual spot in the back, but she pulled me to the front. She gave us a 4 beat count off and the piano started. I scanned the audience. Right in the front row was the gang. Shit. I panicked. They couldn’t know about this. I was already nervous to begin with. There was no more time to worry. The teacher pointed at me, cuing me to start. I sang the lyrics quietly, and not that well. I finished the first verse.

     “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.” She said. “Come here.” she pointed next to her in the very front. Feeling quite embarrassed I took my hands and shoved them in my pockets, staring at the floor. “You take your cues from me.”

     “la la la la la la la.” We repeated it back to her. She pointed at me. “You.”

     “la la la la la la la.” I repeated the tune. “Sing it”

     “Oh happy day.” I sung, this time loud and clearly. You could feel the tone in the room shift. “Oh happy day” people looked up in shock, maybe because I was singing it, or maybe because we sounded really good. “When Jesus washed. When Jesus washed. When, my Jesus washed, he washed my sins away.” I threw a couple riffs in there to make it fancy. 

     “la la la la la la la.” we sung this warm up again a few times. “Let’s party.” the teacher said. “He taught me how” we sang in harmony, as we clapped on the second and fourth beat. “Oh he taught me how” I walked toward the front of the stage even more, the simple rhythm moving me. “To wash, to wash” I repeated from the background melody. “And live rejoicing. Yes he did. Oh yeah. Every, everyday.” I continued. The melody went down a key. “Oh, oh, happy day. Oh happy day yeah. When Jesus washed. When my Jesus washed. When Jesus washed.” I went into my falsetto. I finally gained the courage to look over at the gang. Soda’s jaw dropped, and Dally just sat there with a look in his eyes that I just couldn’t place, but they all definitely looked surprised. The crowd even started clapping, midst performance. I couldn’t help but smile. “My sins away. Oh you know I’m talkin’ bout happy days. Oh yeah. Sing it. Sing it. Sing it. Yeah. C’mon. Oh happy day.” We all finished, arms up in the shape of a v. The crowd erupted in applause, standing up too. Wow. I never expected such a positive reaction. We all took our bows and headed off back stage. 

     I changed back into my greaser attire, and headed out in search of the gang. I found them quick, easily spotting Darry. The second I reached them they all swarmed on top of me. Steve pulled me under his arm, pretending to hit me on the head with his fist. 

     “Damn, Y/N, you never told us you could sing like that” Darry marveled. “Any other things you’ve been keeping from us, like a secret son or somethin’” Two-Bit joked. They all continued like this for a while, until Dally interrupted. 

     “Alright, alright. Damn I can’t even talk to my own girl with all you bums around.” but even he couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah c’mon guys, let Y/N go talk to her boyfriendddd.” Soda started. “ooooooooh” they all joined in. “Oh shut up.” I said playfully, shooing them off with my hand. Dally walked me out to his car, his arm slung over my shoulder. He opened and closed my car door and then went around to get in. 

     “Look man, you know I’m not good at this type of shit but, Goddamn Y/N. You never told me you had a voice like that. Man I ain’t exaggerating when I say that you have the most beautiful voice I ever heard. Shit, I never knew my babygirl was so talented.” he took his eyes off the road to give me a quick kiss. I was smiling so much by then. The car swerved, almost hitting a tree. 

     “Dally!” I almost screamed while laughing. “What baby, it’s only a tree.” he was laughing too.  

     “I guess community service ain’t so bad after all.”

More Like This

[lesbeet]

Hi! Just out of curiosity, which of those writing tips did you like, and which ones did you not agree with? I've seen a lot of them before and thought they were pretty common tips

i'm sure this is more than you were asking for but i'm just gonna go through em one by one and add a bit of commentary bc i have nothing better to do

1. every character’s first line should be an introduction to who they are as a person

generally a good rule to follow - personally, i try to make every element of my writing work on more than one level. dialogue for the most part should be used to reveal character (as opposed to exposition). like, obviously sometimes characters will reveal information aloud to each other which advances the plot, but well-written dialogue for a well-rounded character should reveal some combination of information that character intends to communicate as well as some information they don't (eg someone saying one thing and their body language or expression saying something else, which not only provides the information the reader needs, but also provides information about how that character wants to appear to others vs how they actually are/how they actually appear, etc)

2. even if you only wrote one sentence on a really bad day, that’s still one sentence more than you had yesterday

yes 100000%

3. exercise restraint when using swear words and extra punctuation in order for them to pack a punch when you do use them

i'm ehh about the swear words part bc they can be used to demonstrate character info, but definitely re: exclamation points and the like. idk if by "extra punctuation" they mean like "!!" which is something i personally never do - exclamation points should be used sparingly as is, but if what you're writing requires more than one right next to each other, your dialogue isn't strong enough.

4. if your characters have to kiss to show they’re in love, then they’re not in love

absolutely

5. make every scene interesting (or make every scene your favorite scene), otherwise your readers will be just as bored as you

easier said than done, but a good goal

6. if you’re stuck on a scene, delete the last line you wrote and go in a different direction, or leave in brackets as placeholders

this one is a good piece of advice, but ive seen people say (and have found out for myself) that usually the problem is further back than the most recent line you've written. rarely do you detect the problem so soon after you write it, so it helps to go even further back in the scene to find where things got muddled

7. don’t compare your first draft to published books that could be anywhere from 3rd to 103rd drafts

this is one of the most difficult items on the list and also one of the most important lol

8. i promise you the story you want to tell can fit into 100k words or less

sure, but Can doesn't necessarily mean Should. concision is the best practice, especially for less experienced writers (and i include myself in that), but i would caution that some stories work better with a little bloat or with a tasteful amount of subplot or scene that doesn't necessarily move the plot forward; however, you still need to be able to justify a scene's inclusion in the story. if it's not advancing the primary plot, it should be advancing a subplot and/or revealing more about character or even some slight worldbuilding.

i hate to mention jk rowling here because she's not that great of a writer, but think of all the people who talk about how much they love the scenes that don't show much more than the hogwarts daily grind. studying in the common room, meals, classes, just adding to the worldbuilding of hogwarts and student life and showing us what the main characters do when they're not saving the world or trying to solve a mystery. the hp books would be significantly shorter without those scenes and maybe readers wouldn't have even noticed if they'd never been added to begin with, but so many people (again, including me) love and appreciate those scenes. they make the world and the characters feel more real, more relatable, etc.

this one got long (lol irony) but basically, shooting for an arbitrary number of words should really only be a rough estimate (also unfortunately if you're trying to get picked up by a publisher then you're probably better off sticking to the status quo of your particular genre in terms of average word count). take out what isn't necessary, but maybe open up your definition of "necessary" - just a little (seriously, just a little)

9. sometimes the book isn’t working because it’s not ready to be written or you’re not ready to write it yet; let it marinate for a bit so the idea can develop as you become a better writer

idk how i feel about this. im good with writing a draft and then taking a break for a while before going back to it, but this just seems like a really effective excuse for not writing something.

maybe it's just how this tip is phrased idk i just feel like the idea of you or the story "not being ready yet" is kinda silly. if you've been hacking away for a while and getting nothing out of it but frustration, then yeah take a week or two off. but this makes it sound like "oh you haven't matured enough to tell this story yet. try again in a few years." imo it's always better to write a steaming pile of shit and make it better through editing than to put it off until you feel "ready" - bc, at least in my own experience, it's very easy to convince yourself that you're not ready yet instead of taking the plunge and just getting started

10. a story written in chronological order takes a lot more discipline and is usually easier to understand than a story written with flashbacks

this one is confusing to me bc i'm not sure if they're referring to the writing process or the story itself. i agree that writing it in chronological order takes more discipline than writing whatever scene tickles your fancy at a given moment, but just because you WRITE it in chronological order doesn't mean the final product has to be structured that way. likewise, chronological order is usually easier for a reader to follow, but you don't necessarily need to WRITE the story in order. do what works best for you.

personally ive found over time that i prefer to go in order unless i get stuck somewhere, in which case ill move on and go back to it later. so there are a lot of holes in my drafts, but i do try to write in order so the timeline of the story stays clear in my mind, and also so i can get up close and personal with the mechanics of the story, like how different events and scenes lead to what happens next, etc. and like the tip mentions, it's a fantastic disciplinary practice - otherwise you could write all the fun/easy scenes and be left with very little motivation to write the more complex or less favored scenes (which, contrary to that tip up there, are sometimes necessary even if they're not AS exciting as others)

~~

as usual sorry my answer was so long djsksksksk

[pennyfynotes]

8.2.18 // 4:30pm // school subjects and AP exams oh my

so i recently (ok not so recently i’m sorry super busy rn) got an ask from an anon about subject specific tips and ap exams. this is the masterpost i told you to look out for ;). there are no ap exams in college, but some of the stuff is still applicable. i did my best to be as comprehensive as possible and dump everything in one place. hope this is helpful! xoxo, m ps. guess where the actual tips are?    if you said “under the cut” then you’re right bc i’m predicable af

tips by subject:

languages (i took spanish): 1. flashcards are your friend. i don’t care if they’re digital (would recommend quizlet or studyblue) or paper, but they help immensely with either vocab or things like remembering literature.

2. charts are also your friend. conjugations giving you a hard time? write out a chart of the different tenses and the conjugations for each subject. put down some of the irregulars too.

3. acronyms/pnemonics are also also your friend. a lot of these already exist, you just have to go find them. i’m pretty sure i still remember what “wedding” stands for for the spanish subjunctive.

4. it’s ok to start over. it’s easy to start a sentence based on what you’d say in english. you’re doing fine until *bam* you hit that word/phrase you really need but you have no clue how to say it. whether it’s an oral or written exam, take a few seconds to think about it and, if you can’t figure it out, just back track. restart the sentence and rework it. better to do that than to lose all your time thinking of one word you may or may not know.

5. skirt around things. if you can’t remember how to say fridge but you really need to say it for something, just say “machine that keeps food cold” or something. it might sound silly,  but it gets the point across and removes the road block.

6. make a list. no, not a to do list. if there’s phrases you find yourself reaching for all the time, but you can never remember, make a list of them and their translations. it might be because its a phrase/part of a sentence structure you use a lot in your native language or whatever. make that list and drill just those few phrases into your head. it’s helpful

english/language arts: 1. proofread. i guarantee you’ll find a mistake, a sentence that makes no sense, or one that just sounds cringy. thank me later.

2. have a damn thesis. its ok if you just need to write and spit words/ideas out for a while to figure it out. but figure it out.

3. conclusion ~= introduction. for those of you who didn’t get the tilde, it means not. yes, they both tie your points to your thesis but they are not to same. do not just reword the same information in the conclusion. push your ideas just a little further. i usually like the push them a little bit outside the realm of what i talked about in my paper. for example, if i focused on the first 5 chapters of the book in the rest of my paper, i’ll expand the ideas to the rest of the book. or if i’m talking about female characters and focus on just one or two, i’ll use the conclusion to potentially connect it to another.

4. have favorites. pick a few fav transitions, sentence structures, and fancy vocab words. basically build a toolbox. this way you won’t have to think as hard when you want to “spice up” your work.

5. summaries only go so far. once you get to higher level english classes, there will be a lot of analysis of specific imagery, or wording, or dialogue. reading cliff notes is only going to give you the plot and none of this. if you don’t have time to read and you’ve been assigned a pretty standard english novel/play/whatever, take the time to look up some famous quotes or symbols. they’ll probably come up in discussion and this will help you look less unprepared.

6. have on question/comment ready. if your teacher/prof is into discussions and grades on participation, it’s handy to write down one (or a few) things. it’s easy to forget what you were going to say while you follow the discussion and it sucks to get docked points for not saying anything. even if it’s just a thoughtful question, jot it down.

history: 1. lol prob my weakest subject, just go see the apush (ap us history) section bc i don’t have much more for you than that.

science: 1. back to basics. i say it all the time, i’ll say it again. really understand basic concepts. they will come back. i’m serious.

2. pattern recognition. science problems are often times about recognizing patterns. once you identify the type of problem it is, even if you’ve never seen the exact one/something similar before, solving it becomes way easier.

3. make a recipe book. tied to the last one, but once you recognize a type of problem, you need steps to solve it. go through any practice problems you’re given to determine all the “types” of problems. once you’ve categorized them, make yourself a step-by-step guide on how to solve.

4. flashcards. you’ll have to know polyatomic ions or random biology facts. see languages tip #1 for more.

5. note your errors in lab. if you do something wrong, don’t just try to brush it under the table and forget about it. not that it’s a big deal, because its not, so don’t freak out. they’re just great opportunities to note sources of error. i mean obviously dont write in your lab report that you weren’t paying attention and mixed the wrong chemicals, but something like “we may not have waited sufficient time for the product to dry” can explain why you got 800% yield.

6. have a toolkit. kinda like a recipe book, but just a collection of straight facts that come up often. knowing common molecular weights and chemical properties (is ammonia acidic or basic?) will make things go faster. like i said earlier, polyatomic ions are also great.

7. brush up on some simple arithmetic. similar to the tool kit, this will just make things go faster. being able to quickly add things and calculate easy percentages (ex: 30%) will make things like hw and exams go faster. i’m of the opinion it’s always good to know how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide w/o a calculator (on paper, not all in your head)

bonus: math #5 and #7

math: 1. see science #1

2. see science #2

3. see science #3

4. see science #4. see a pattern here? you might wonder why you need to flashcard math, but it’s good for learning equations or the names of certain techniques. if the prof asks you to solve something using X technique and you don’t know what that is, that’s gonna pose a problem. also good for the unit circle (don’t get me started)

5. figure out your speed. this is applicable to most everything, but i find it most relevant for math. is it better for you to speed through the whole exam and then do it all again/check it over 2x? or for you to take it slow so you know you got everything right the first time? personally i use the first approach, but i’m a fast taker and prefer to have time to process between repeating problems instead of staring at it forever once and never looking again.

6. science #7. a lot of teachers will expect you to be able to do this.

7. go over the material a couple times. also applicable to everything. i find it’s easier to remember things when i know that concepts are connected. you might have learned X 3 weeks before Y, but if you go back over, you might realize they’re closely related. this will help you if you’re not sure on a test because you can reason through things using the connections you’ve drawn

tips by ap course (obv look at the subject above bc i will be giving *really specific stuff* here that i’ve gathered from experience. they’re also ordered by when i took them, sorry it’s not super logical but i didn’t want to forget one)

general ap course/exam tips: 1. practice exams. you need to be familiar with what will/will not show up. you don’t always need to simulate and real testing situation, but i’d recommend doing at least 1-2 that way. also *know how many questions they’re are you so can pace yourself!!!!*

2. college board is pretty good about giving topic breakdowns. use those. go through and figure out what topics you’re solid on and which need more work. the above tip is to help decipher what the topics actually mean bc it can be confusing.

3. give the free response a quick flip through. do the ones you’re confident on first.

4. make sure you know the policies/what you can bring. don’t want to forget something. also once our test administrator tried to stop us 10 minutes early, but we were on top of our shit and all gave her a death glare bc we knew when we were supposed to finish.

ap chemistry: 1. polyatomic ions and molecular weights. know them

2. chapter/section reviews (in addition to class notes) and how-to guides. my teacher made us make them and let’s just say your girl did *really* well (and i’m damn proud of that one)

3. do a quick skim of the free response. applicable to most exams but, the year i took it, they’d just remade and re-curved the exam and put *way* too many free response. like no one finished them. if that’s still the case, make sure you do the one’s you’re confident on. also, i did not get to like 3 questions and still got a 5. they may have fixed this idk. (sorry this is redundant but i wanted to give this ap chem exam specific info)

ap environmental science: 1. there is a lot of damn information here. i would use chapter outlines and pick out key terms, policies, and events etc. treat this like a history class.

2. for the exam, use common sense. most of the time, the most environmentally friendly answer is the right one. if you just have a general gist of the course and its topics, but don’t know a lot of details, go with your intuition and you should be fine. i didn’t have a lot of time to study for this one and this method worked for me.

ap calc bc: 1. memorize standard derivatives. power rule, sin and cos, chain rule. that’s important.

2. similarly, memorize standard integrals.

3. don’t forget +c for indefinite integrals. just don’t.

4. similarly, if it’s definite, don’t forget to evaluate at the end! super easy thing to do, but also super easy way to lose points if you forget.

5. if the integral looks complicated, that probably means there’s a “trick” involved. u substitution, integration by parts, trig substitution. something like that.

6. memorize some standard series’, operations, and types (arithmetic, geometric etc)

7. if you’re looking at a word problem, understand what is dependent on your variable and what isn’t (in other words, what’s a constant). for example, if it says the water flows into the barrel at 50 mL/s and flows out at 1/5 times the volume, that translate to F = 50 - (1/5)V. don’t make things more complicated by trying to write everything in terms of V (in this example). also, your equation might just be a constant term or just a variable term doesn’t have to be both.

8. know what your derivative is with respect to/what it really means. aka if your problem is talking about flow and volume, how are they related to each other? flow is the change in volume *with respect to time*. so if i differentiate volume with respect to time, i get flow. if i integrate flow with respect to time, i get volume. this also helps you make sense of word problems.

*disclaimer*: it is been 5 years since i took this class and i have taken quite a few math classes after. i apologize if i introduce anything that is a little irrelevant.

ap spanish language: 1. flashcard. like seriously. there’s gonna be vocab involved.

2. understand what’s asked. for the persuasive email. *be persuasive*

3. toolkit. i mentioned this before but this was probably the most useful for this class. our teacher gave us a bunch of fancier words to use instead of causar (to cause) because that was a word we’d need a lot. the one that still sticks with me 4 years later is fomentar. have a few alternatives for these kinds of super common words, a good greeting and closing for your email, and a set of good transitions. *make sure you know how to use them properly*

4. write stuff down during listening. you can either answer questions during the first listen, then take notes the second to catch stuff you missed or vice versa.

5. it’s ok to backtrack in the speaking. don’t let yourself get stuck and just not say anything. it’ll freak you out for the rest of the exam and will rob you from showing off what you know. also take notes of things you want to mention based off cultural knowledge of the situation related to the dialogue.

6. don’t zone out. with everything going on and all the stress, it’s easy to zone out (esp during the conversation). don’t do it or you’ll have a hard time responding and freak yourself out (again)

7. don’t lose your place in the convo! they give you a sheet that shows you how many times the other “person” will talk. i lost track and said goodbye one segment early. it was bad ok. all these conversation tips are from personal experience.

ap statistics: 1. know the different kinds of tests inside and out. know the differences and the conditions. if you’ve got that, you’re like 75% the way there.

2. be familiar with sample vs population. it’s a bit confusing, but take the time to understand.

3. ok sorry i really don’t remember anything else. this exam really isn’t that difficult (in my opinion), you’ll be ok.

ap physics c: 1. free body diagrams. understand how to draw them *and draw them*. they will carry you through mechanics. draw gravitational force, normal if there’s a surface, and then any other given forces.

2. basic equations. you get an equation sheet, but knowing the equations means you know the concepts and the relations between them. big ones are f=ma and the equations relating position (x), velocity (v), and acceleration (a). also friction f=uN.

3. *normal isn’t always the opposite direction of gravity!!!!* gravity is straight down. normal is perpendicular to the surface.

4. vector components. please don’t just add vectors. break them down into components and then add or you are so fucked.

5. get familiar with triangles. this will help with the whole component thing.

6. kirchoffs rules are so helpful. know them.

7. understand the relations between voltage/potential and current in terms of the properties of circuit elements. that means the equations for resistors, capacitors, and inductors.

8. know how to add in parallel and series. it’s important. also! if the circuit is drawn “weird” a good way to know series vs parallel is that parallel elements share two nodes and that series circuits only share 1.

9. sorry i kinda blocked out E+M bc i didn’t know what i was doing (or so i thought). i still got a 4 tho so that curve is generous.

ap us history: 1. chapter outlines. pretty self explanatory.

2. make a timeline. put important events, sentiments, policies, and presidents. if you can associate these things together into time periods it will be easier. most of the time, any one question (esp long response or whatever they’re called) will only focus on 1 time period.

3. sentiments are important. if you know nothing else, know these bc they will help guide you through questions by reasoning even if you know nothing else.

4. gilder lehrman (or similar us history summaries). these are tailor specifically to apush bc they are organized by period (i think that’s what they were called?). i actually fell asleep listening to these bc i didn’t have time to study. they were mildly helpful, but every little bit helps right?

ap psychology: 1. chapter outlines/flashcards. this course is based heavily on key terms and less so on larger concepts.

2. ok sorry i took this online i remember literally nothing except how annoying my teacher was and that the exam was easy. if you know terminology i think you should do fine.

ap biology: 1. there is a lot. go through all the topics and make sure you’re solid. start with the big picture, then think about narrowing down.

2. know how charts work. things like pedigrees, punnet squares, and evolution trees (that’s def not the right term). some of the exam will just be interpretation of this.

3. i am so sorry i remember nothing else.

ap spanish literature: 1. flashcards. title, author, time period, short summary, key elements (a line, character, symbol). this is *so helpful*

2. think about the works in relation to each other. you might be asked to compare them. even if they ask you to compare something on the reading list with something new, you’ll be familiar with the points you might talk about.

3. know the lit terms. more flashcards. associate them with a particular work if you can/need to.

4. don’t freak on the listening. a lot of the recordings are old and shitty quality. take a deep breath and try your best. know that the rest of the test takers (excepting maybe natives) are experiencing the same thing.

5. use that tool box. see general spanish and ap spanish lang.

this is so freaking long and i think the moral of the story is that i blocked out my senior year ap exams. i hope this was helpful and, if you have more questions, or want more stuff like this, let me know!