#Ok this has been in my drafts for an embarrassing amount of time

[banana-split-bitch-club]

*Throws up hairball* yeah I furrified your emo murderer. What are YOU gonna do about it buddy

[marnerparty]

young stud

Connor Bedard x reader

_connorbedard

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_connorbedard📍Nashville

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adamfantilli my dude!

yourusername no it’s ok… I wasn’t there either… I don’t wanna be featured…

_connorbedard being around me 24/7 wasn’t enough? 😐

yourusername no.

_masonmctavish23 Jesus just tell him you love him yn

yourusername we are JUST best friends

trevorzegras yeah, and i’m cleaner than jamie

_masonmctavish23 where tf did you come from!?

jamie.drysdale don’t bring me into this

yourusername hey all you ducks get outta here. tilli is comin to Anaheim not C-Dog

adamfantilli we have no idea where either of us are going to end up yn

_connorbedard SEE

user1 sorry the Blackhawks are gonna draft you

colton.dach 👀

yourusername even he knows you’re going #1

_connorbedard yn we still just don’t know

espn congrats on the success & good luck tomorrow finding out who your next team will be!

madi_bedard 🤘🏻

user2 boutta be the biggest bust the NHL has ever seen

yourusername and you’ve done what in your life exactly?

trevorzegras yn responding to haters >>>>>

_connorbedard please do not encourage this

yourusername hi, I’m yn. I think we’ll be great friends

trevorzegras nice to meet you, I’m trevor & likewise. let’s hang out sometime

biznasty 🤠🤠🤠

barzal97 kiddd

yourusername 😍😍😍

_connorbedard don’t say what you want to rn.

_connorbedard please.

_connorbedard I beg you.

trevorzegras yn, you are your own person. if you want to embarrass yourself and tell mat you think he’s hot do it.

barzal97 now I feel like I shouldn’t be here

user3 connor sucks

_masonmctavish23 🦅🦅🦅

_connorbedard those are Eagles

_masonmctavish23 connor wtf. that’s a smart-ass comment that should come from yn not you

_connorbedard he limited the amount of times i can comment on his Instagram posts. this is actually yn. I took connor’s phone

trevorzegras oh my god we will be amazing friends

yourusername

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yourusername I couldn’t be more proud 🫶🏻

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_connorbedard thank you for your never ending support yn ❤️

nhlblackhawks who’s the new guy?

yourusername some bum. probably shouldn’t make the team tbh

_connorbedard what happened to “couldn’t be more proud”

yourusername 🤫

adamfantilli it’s been a ride 🤘🏻

_connorbedard love you long time brother 🫡

cubs welcome to the Windy City Connor!

kentjohnson.13 YOU DID IT C!

_connorbedard miss you 🫶🏻

trevorzegras yn panicking rn trying to make this comment section abt her

yourusername fuck you trevor

barzal97 she’s aggressive isn’t she?

yourusername 🫢😮

trevorzegras look what you did Mat 🙄

barzal97 ??????

yourusername he’s referring to the fact you put the attention on me

barzal97 didn’t he start it by pointing it out in the first place?

trevorzegras watch it.

yourusername besties, please. this is no place to fight

user1 yn 🤝🏻 hockey boys

Liked by yourusername

lululemon #1 brand —> #1 pick! congrats Connor!

yourusername @lululemon free clothes?👀

_connorbedard wtf?? it’s MY brand deal bud

lhughes_06 your relationship is confusing

user2 honestly fuck connor bedard

yourusername Connor has asked me very nicely to not respond to haters & be rude so I cannot say anything to you that I want to, but just know, I really want to.

trevorzegras I am so proud of your growth

yourusername i love Connor, what can I say

yourusername

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yourusername bestie is the big 1️⃣8️⃣ 🫶🏻

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user1 about goddamn time

jackhughes wtf how is this kid just now an adult

trevorzegras now you guys can do it !

yourusername TREVOR

yourusername NOT FUNNY

adamfantilli I still can’t believe Yn’s a cougar

yourusername I’m a year older 😪 chill.

_masonmctavish23 SO YOU ADMIT YOU’RE A COUGAR

trevorzegras WE GOT HER

colton.dach YN LIKES CONNOR

user2 AHHHHH

lululemon Happy Birthday Connor! 🎉

user3 I love you plz marry me

quentinmusty happy birthday CB !!

_connorbedard 😚😚😚 miss u

trevorzegras super sus 👀

adamfantilli someone check on yn

_connorbedard thank you ynn <3

Liked by yourusername

lhughes_06 love birds

yourusername I’ll kill you Lucas

lhughes_06 come at me yn

trevorzegras Luke what have you done

trevorzegras yn will protect connie wonnie boo-boo bear at all costs

yourusername you’re dead too Zegras

user3 all these adults obsessing over some teens

_masonmctavish we are NOT obsessed

user3 def are

_masonmctavish NO

user3 yes.

jamie.drysdale mason wtf are you doing

barzal97 happy birthday kid!

_connorbedard thank you 🙌🏻

yourusername added to their story!

yourusername

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yourusername besties trip!!

tagged trevorzegras

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trevorzegras 😚😚😚

jamie.drysdale IS THIS A THING

trevorzegras ????

yourusername 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

user1 Matching tattoos & a trip? Too sus

colton.dach I THOUGHT YOU LIKED CONNOR

adamfantilli WHAT HAPPENED

user2 whore

trevorzegras watch your mouth

barzal97 I’m officially out 😔

yourusername NO

yourusername COME BACK

yourusername You’re always #1 😘😘😘

_connorbedard No invite is crazy

yourusername make up for it when I get back?

_connorbedard I guess 🙄

user3 tension?!!!

user4 this girl sucks

_connorbedard Get outta here

madi_bedard GORGE

yourusername ughhh I’m in love with you

user5 *with your brother

_masonmctavish ^^^^

_connorbedard

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_connorbedard can’t take her anywhere

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yourusername

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yourusername go Blackhawks!

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jackhughes WHAT

trevorzegras why are we acting surprised

luke_hughes06 HE’S A CHILD

yourusername you’re a child

ryanwhitney6 MY EYES

colton.dach you dirty liar

adamfantilli “there’s nothing between us”

nhlblackhawks “we’re just best friends”

trevorzegras Even the team is invested in this 😐

biznasty Connor you dirty dog

yourusername 40 yr old in the comment section 🥱

biznasty Connor she’s mean

yourusername who knew biz was whiny

barzal97 what about us 😔

yourusername Mat he can be gone in 5 seconds

trevorzegras Connor wonnor has a girllll friendddd

_connorbedard Yeah that’s one more than you 🤠

yourusername 🫣

jamie.drysdale Yikes getting roasted by a 12 yr old

trevorzegras JAMIE!? BE ON MY SIDE

jamie.drysdale that was kinda a dig at both of you

trevorzegras I don’t care care it should only be a dig at HIM

yourusername trouble in paradise 😬

_connorbedard

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_connorbedard a full trip around the ☀️

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biznasty Are you 30 yet?

_connorbedard just turned 19 bud

yourusername lover 😚

_connorbedard ❤️❤️

user1 🤮

user2 mans pulled a baddie like yn … let me know your ways

madi_bedard sista sista

madi_bedard I’m stealing her

yourusername im yours <3

trevorzegras and Connor’s and Mat’s ?

yourusername yes.

colton.dach yn > Connor 🤷🏼‍♀️

olivermoore11 agreed.

titobeauvi91 she has a more pleasant presence

_connorbedard wow TEAMMATES thank you!

jamie.drysdale YOU’VE BEEN DATING A YEAR!?

luca.fantilli That’s gotta be illegal

trevorzegras Not so team Connor and yn now huh Jimmy

yourusername oh please you wouldn’t have known we were dating if I didn’t tell you

barzal97 🤘🏻

user3 you need someone better than yn

trevorzegras lol good luck finding anyone better

barzal97 she’s a national treasure

jamie.drysdale haters will be haters

_connorbedard too bad I love her 🤷🏼‍♀️

yourusername boys stop it I’m blushing ☺️

adamfantilli he said the L word 🤢

A/N I’m … back ??

[hallasimss]

🚲💋 and 🧸 for your most fav OC!

fav OC currently is split between Ha-sang and Abhi (my beloveds!!!) so i'll answer the first and last ones for Ha-sang (slightly rearranged bc uh. depending on how hot it gets in here the kiss one might need to go under the cut sksksksk) and leave the one in the middle for Abhilash—this might get long <333

🚲 : Does your OC enjoy playing the field? Or are they more monogamy-minded?

i feel like he leans slightly more towards one-to-one relationships more than anything else, although depending on the person he can be open to trying something new—monoflexible, is it? i'd say it might be the partial fear of abandonment, but this is some of the reason it usually takes him forever to get over break-ups (despite the fact that most of them have ended well) and is also why he's mainly been on and off with his uh, how should i put it, current situation. (not 'situation' as in derogatory, just 'situation' as it's way more complicated than the FWB that they started out with in the first place and we haven't figured out what we're going to do with that yet)

there's also a situation going on with his ex-boyfriend (*cough* Sun-wook *cough*) but those two have had that going on for at least five or six years by now, it's once a year, mutual and they know what they're doing—if the two of them could tell me what that is, of course, rather than filling my brain with plot rot about the much more unstable pairing on Ha-sang's end (which might be revealed. if i haven't given it away in the tags of some of my inspo reblogs yet rip), it would be much appreciated

🧸 : Into public displays of affection or are they more reserved?

Abhi is going to hold your hand. he is going to hold your f*cking hand and probably be the clingiest partner you've ever had but it's fine!!! they're holding your hand bc they need to make sure it's big enough for theirs and also the 56 different shopping bags/luggage/various containers they're going to make you carry after that mall date. you have two hands tho don't worry you should be able to handle it

he's not much of a public kisser, tho at least if he is he hasn't told me sksksksk, but he'll go for a peck on the cheek when others are around. he also bites? behind closed doors like an extremely autistic and tender cat—you'll be reading a book and they'll be lying on your lap and if your arm is anywhere near them prepare for the gnawing. chomp chomp chomp we are biting you biting you biting you @rainymoodlet i hope it's ok to tag since this is Abhi meta but Dan i hope you're taking notes

💋 : Is your OC a good kisser? How do they do it?

the amount of gifsets i have in the drafts of this man's FC just going at it istg—it's embarrassing. completely embarrassing i am being outed as simping over my own sim. (they will post. eventually, but not yet since i do not want to scandalize the viewers) the common thread in all of them is that he usually goes in first, and then pulls back to look at the other person and then it's right back in again. just. that is hot to me

and tongue!!! Ha-sang will usually ask first before he goes ahead with it since he's very gentle and reserved most of the time (and bc consent is sexy kids!) but when things get heated out comes the tongue. it's a war scene you're going to lose at least one piece of clothing that you will never get back bc it ended up under the sofa or some sh*t like that—if he kisses a line all the way up your jawline you are done for. finished. the end of Solomon Grundy as we like to say in the Caribbean. tell your driver you're not going home tonight if it's right from your collarbone up the curve of your neck i doubt you're making it to the bedroom. God forbid we get any of this started in the car tho it is highly unlikely

send me piping hot oc asks!

[ayato-comehomepls]

Flirting With Genshin Men🌱

Genre- fluff

Warnings- cussing

Characters- Venti, Zhongli, Xiao, Kazuha, Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Albedo, Scaramouche

Summary- genshin mens reactions to you flirting with them bcs who wouldn't love to see them flustered mwaha

A/N- this has been sitting in my drafts for like a month so el oh el

Venti-

Has the most unexpected flirtatious comments up his sleeve for this exact moment

You flirt with him, thinking you really got him when he blushed and giggled, avoiding eye contact

But no,,, nope he's not letting you win so easily!!

Uno reversed that shit and now you're the one turning as red as sunsettias

He's had his fair share of flirty moments, what made you think he'd have nothing to say in response to your words??!?

Honestly ridiculous how easily venti managed to compose himself and turn it around on you

But you can still see part of him flustered and the tips of his ears red,,,

So you count it as a partial victory

Zhongli-

Makes a contract so you'll stop embarassing him💔💔💔

No but seriously it catches him a little off guard

Because like hello? Did those words just come out of your mouth? And so confidently??? What happened to his dear nervous y/n??!?

Will laugh a little and then once it really settles in what you had said a smug smile will be permanently stuck on his face

Thinks it's adorable how you believe you finally made him flustered,

Or maybe he's just trying to cover up the fact that you actually did

Who knows,,, he's hard to read

Xiao-

LITERAL TEARS FALLING CAUSE HES SO DEPRIVED OF AFFECTION

Has no idea how to handle your remarks

Or the way they make his heart race like never before

He's a quiet guy and prefers to keep his feelings to himself,,, so it's not often you'll hear him say romantic things

On the contrary you are much more open than him!!!

But it never gets easier for him in regards to trying to handle it without blushing too much or seeming too nervous

Xiao is very bad at both of those--

Its one of the main reasons you flirt with him- to see his reactions never change,, regardless of how often you do it

Kazuha-

Gets all giggly ofc,,, and also tries to turn it around on you

Unlike venti though it's less in a teasing manner

Yk when couples are like "nOo yOu hAnG uP firSt~~😊🤗," it b like that

Kazuha is naturally a hopeless romantic and finds your flirting beyond adorable,,, it's truly the highlight of his day

He manages to get more used to it as time passes, but it still has the same affect on his heart each time

And his face-- he will be red all over and smiling so wide for the next few minutes,

Almost makes you think you broke him like,, hello? Earth to kazuha?

Kaeya-

Kaeya shows no amount of embarrassment to anybody-

If you wanna make him flustered you better be hella good at it

Or else you won't be getting any reaction beyond "Oh? Well aren't you so bold,"

He just prefers seeing you a mumbling red mess,,, not so much the other way around

He'd still love to see you try though

Because the knowledge that you would crumble so easily if he said flirty things back was what made him smile

Who knows,, maybe one day he'll decide to finally use that to his advantage when you feel like being flirtatious again :o

Diluc-

This poor poor man

At least save him some dignity and pride ok😭

Reminds me of Xiao in the sense that he'll get very very nervous,,, but he's much better at hiding it

You'd have to look closely to see the pink tint on his face that he tries to hide by looking the opposite direction or focusing on something else

And it tends to work well for him- but don't be discouraged !

Some things will make him a lot more flustered than others

Just stay within that frame and he'll blush like no ones business oml

Wont be able to focus when you do

Childe-

Another flirty mf himself

But he puts no effort in trying to hide the blush on his face or his wide smile

Because he cant stop it from happening so why even try hhh

He really likes the comments you make and lowkey thinks it's cute when you tease him

He'll have his equal share of fun tho

And flirt with you until you turn redder than him,,, it's almost like a contest in his eyes

But he makes sure to never lose!

Except for when he does

Albedo-

Albedo gets so caught up in his lab working long hours that sometimes you just need to get his attention,, however possible

He'll find himself smiling so wide when you start flirting next to his work desk,

And seeing you try your absolute best to get his attention, at least one glance

He might even avoid you on purpose to hear you keep talking

Which (annoys the hell out of you) just makes you try harder

Eventually at some point he has to give in and quit working nonstop

If you're willing to give him so much attention who is he to deny you??!?😯

Even if you become mad at him for it,, one hug and suddenly you forget why you're so upset

Scaramouche-

Immediately sends death glares

Every flirt earns one glare and maybe even a little nudge with his elbow

But don't stop flirting with him,,, then he'll be even more upset because you stopped!

If you're in private feel free to make as many comments and jokes and pick up lines as your heart desires

He definitely won't show it or admit it, but it makes him feel all giddy

Because it's a cute little way of reminding him that you love him

He can't pass an opportunity like that up- but he also cant show his emotions duh

[keijiism]

i’m not the same anon but rime with a rut.... rime. with. a. rut. RIME WITH A RUT XJSCEJEXEHCEJEXEJEXE I’M DYING OKAY!!! now i need the aftermath because i know that as soon as rime comes to his senses he will behave like a tsundere but by now mc knows how much he desires them and therefore rime can no longer hide his feelings👀 i need more okay? xjscsjcsjs (i want to thank you and the first anon, what a bless xjscsj) note from nia: this has been in my drafts for so long i'm so sorry i restarted the entire thing bc i didn't want it to be as angsty as the first draft was heading :'/

giggles and laughs. he's so silly if he thinks he can try to pretend that he wasn't down horrendous when mc can just pull their shirt collar down so he has to look at all the hickies he left

rime isn't an asshole. ok he definitely can be but

i stand by the fact that if not anything else,, he'd wake up before them, process what happened, and leave water and a change of clothes by the bed before getting breakfast. yeah he might be embarrassed and scared but he isn't just going to pretend that was just some extreme one night stand—it meant both of them being trusting and vulnerable and he just. [ orz ]

he knows they have to talk about it eventually, but if he has to wait it isn't going to be in bed while Staring At Them (though usually he wouldn't complain having that opportunity). he needs a breather. needs to do Something

when mc manages to get up and find him in the kitchen he tenses up hearing their footsteps. he turns to look at them and they just stare at each other

" 🧍 🧍"

rime has the decency to ask if they're sore. mc snorts because they definitely didn't waddle their way down the stairs to find him /sarc

"do you...want to talk about what happened?" "the fact that you caught me in the middle of my rut or that we fucked for an insane amount of time" "...yes. i think those are connected"

there's a lot of awkward pauses because they aren't sure where to start or what to say and for Once,, rime is in the worse position. mc tries their best but it comes out as shit like

"so you Did have a crush on me" "what's wrong with you" "well,"

rime lets out this huge sigh and mc can hear him mutter something about "it not supposed to go this way"

he's frustrated with himself . he may have wanted mc's 'help' in the first place but the fact that they found him the way they did instead of him being able to Ask. did they regret it?

mc knows rime well enough to know that his mind is wandering and frowns at him, "stop that. i offered to help." "because i looked so pitifully needy?" "okay. i wanted to help because i care about you, rime. i wouldn't have done anything if i didn't want to—if i didn't trust you."

trust is a Big Word for Rime (said like the elmo audio) especially after everything they had gone through up to that point. and sure he could have figured that out himself but hearing mc say it is a totally different thing

"look, if you wanna just...move on, i understand. we don't have to talk about it or do anything if you don't want to." "i never said i didn't want to." "what"

of course this was a possibility that mc considered but still,, it wasn't exactly how they imagined a confession would go. "you..?" "do you need me to spell it out for you? want me to kiss you again?"

mc seeing how far they can take it and saying "yeah sure." rime, an asshole, taking the challenge and walking right in front of them. rime, an asshole x2, going "you sure, sweetheart?" mc, shaken but not defeated, only leaning closer. rime and mc, both idiots, finally kissing (real).

rime and mc, now ???, pulling away after god knows how long and staring at each other. "so are we like, a thing now then?" "i'd be a little concerned if we weren't."

achievement unlocked: being asked on a date after already fucking

no but like.

"how uh, how regular are your ruts, exactly?" "why? you want me that bad?" "for fuck's sake, rime" "yeah, for f—" "Rime"

mc has unlocked the ability to legitimately say "you wanna fuck me so bad it's embarrassing" and rime just gets flashbacks

it's a double-edged sword because he can just throw back the fact that mc also wants to fuck Him. "you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

[autumnsart22]

Flat Tire: Suna x fem reader

SMUT 🔥🔥

This is technically a part 3 of First time in College: Suna x reader, but I decided to make it a stand alone. You can read the other parts if you’re interested. Also, I left the ending kind of open, so I would be super happy to continue it if anyone wants me to...

P.S. I feel like it’s rare to have someone look this fine when it’s NOT EVEN FANART BRUHHHH

Suna was late to pick you up for your “date” (was it a date? He hadn’t made it particularly clear), which wasn’t a good sign. You had spent the hours after your class at 3 pacing around, trying to figure out what outfit to wear, and questioning your whole existence. Your roommate, Kiyoko, didn’t make things any better. When you had explained how you had met Suna at the frat party, how sweet he had seemed, her mouth had dropped and her eye practically popped out of her head. 

“Out of every guy you could have picked, you chose Suna Rintarou?” She sighed, burying her face in her hands. 

“What? Is he...bad?” You asked, suddenly nervous. You liked Suna, from the amount you knew about him. He seemed like he was pretty arrogant, and also kind of lazy, but he was nice to talk to. You knew you’d be disappointed if he ended up being a piece of shit. 

“He’s just...you know…” Kiyoko was clearly trying to find a way to phrase it. “He’s ditched a lot of different girls, sleeping around and then never speaking to them again, that sort of thing. Typical frat boy behavior.” 

You sighed, since it was exactly what you expected. “Well, it’s fine. We’re just going to eat, so I’ll just get it over with and then be out of his life.” 

“Ok. I just don’t want you getting hurt.” 

You waved her off. “I know, I know. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, six o’clock came and went, and no sign of Suna; suddenly, despite my dismissal, “getting hurt” seemed like a distinct possibility. By 6:30, you ditched your shoes and coat, crashing on your bed and starting the newest episode of Attack on Titan. Fuck Suna and his dumb pretty face. You were good with Levi. 

Halfway through the episode, there was a knock at your door, and your muscles tensed so suddenly that your neck twinged. 

“Uh, who is it?” You yelled as you rolled out of bed, stumbling to the door. 

“Su--” You opened it and blinked up at the guy outside in shock. “--na.” 

“Oh.” You raised your eyebrows. He was wearing black pants and a black crewneck, a white collared shirt underneath. 

“Hi,” he panted, completely out of breath. “Sorry.” 

You snorted. “Um. It’s late.” 

“I got lost.” 

“Did you now?” 

“And I had to go back home to change.” 

“You could have texted me!”

“...I don’t have your number.” 

You opened your mouth, but you had nothing to say to that. “Well, fuck,” you muttered, turning away. 

“Sorry. You’ll still come to eat though, right?” 

You wanted to curse him out for making you wait so long, for making you think he ditched you for the night and forgot. 

“Fine. But you’re a dick.” 

He grinned lazily, leaning in the door frame as you grabbed your shoes and jacket again, scooping up your purse as you exited your dorm. 

“What?” You said as you finally approached him, blushing as you met his eyes despite how hard you tried not to. 

“Nothing.” 

He led the way to his car in silence, and it was a strange mix of awkward and comfortable. Suna didn’t seem like the type to be super talkative, but at the same time you felt like you should be making conversation. 

When you got to his car, you took a deep breath to calm yourself down before sliding into the passenger seat. Of course, the whole car smelled like weed, but it wasn’t overwhelming and honestly kind of nice.

“So, you’re a freshman?” He asked, pulling out of the lot, and you nodded. 

“Are you?” 

“Sophomore.” 

“What’s your major?” 

“Undecided, but I enjoy photography. Not the best career path though…” 

“Wait, that's really cool.” You glanced at him, impressed. “What do you take pictures of?” 

“Anything, but people mostly.” 

“You’ll have to show me some time.” 

“Only if you forgive me for being late.” 

You crossed your arms, snorting. “Fine.” 

The car suddenly jerked, and you gasped as you heard a rush of air coming from the rear. 

“Oh...fuck,” Suna muttered, pulling off to the side of the road. “I think we just got a flat tire.” 

“How????” 

“How am I supposed to know?” 

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Do you want me to call someone?” 

“Hang on, I might be able to…” He hopped out of the car before finishing, and you sat in silence as you heard him walking around to examine the damage. A moment later, he re-entered the driver's side with an annoyed expression on his face. “Yeah, it’s flat. Shit.” 

“What are we going to do?”

“My friend has a spare tire, but it might take him a bit to get here. Are you ok with waiting?”

You shrugged. “Sure.” 

“Sorry, this is the worst night ever.” 

“It’s not your fault. We can just hang out until your friend gets here.”

Suna’s expression didn’t change, but you thought you saw his shoulders relax a little. In the darkness of the car, you couldn’t help but admire his profile as he turned off the car and shoved his hair back from his face. 

“What?” He said, turning to look at you, and you went beat red. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re looking at me.” 

“N-no.” 

“Really?” He smirked, leaning towards you slightly. 

Your heart stuttered, practically stopping at you stared into his pretty yellow eyes. Oh my god...

“I--” 

Before you could answer, Suna sat back, still smirking. A car drove past you on the dark street and you used the momentary distraction to try and get ahold of yourself. 

“So, what do you want to do?” Suna asked, and you looked over at him again. 

“You say that like we have another option besides just sitting here.” 

He shrugged, pulling a THC pen from his pocket and holding it out to you. You took it from him, hitting it twice before handing it back. 

“What’s your major?” He asked, holding the pen to his lips. 

“Political economics right now, but I’m considering switching to english since I like writing.” 

“What do you write?” 

“All kinds of things, although mostly short stories. I’ve been working on my second novel too, and the first draft is almost done. It’s really shitty right now, but hopefully once I go back and edit it…” 

You paused, suddenly embarrassed. Were you rambling? You could talk about writing all day, but most people didn’t care enough to keep listening beyond the first sentence. 

“Yeah?” Suna said, waiting for you to finish.

“Oh. That was it.” You glanced away, waiting for a subject change. 

“What’s your novel about?” He paused, laughing under his breath. “I can’t believe you wrote a fucking book. That’s so sick.”

You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your face, and you covered your mouth with your hand. “Ok, short version--” 

“Short version? Why? We’ve got plenty of time.” 

You opened your mouth, and then paused. No one actually ever asked to hear about your writing beyond just the basic formalities, and you couldn’t believe how happy it made you feel that someone seemed genuinely interested. 

Deciding to abandon all pretenses, you jumped into a long scale explanation of the plot you were writing, all while Suna watched your face intently. 

“...And yeah! That’s basically it,” you finished finally, smiling brightly at him. “Sorry if that was super boring, I didn’t mean to…” 

“Can I read it when you finish? I’m invested.” He took another hit off the pen while watching you, and you smiled to yourself. How was this boy saying all the right things? Fuck. 

“I suppose.” 

“You suppose?”

“Depends on my mood.” 

“What can I do to guarantee you’ll let me read?” He reached over to grab your chin, stroking your cheeks gently with his thumb, and your breathing hitched. “Ha, you’re cute when you’re all red like this.” 

You snorted, but didn’t pull away. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.” 

“Really?” He leaned closer to you, until your faces were only inches apart in the darkness.

“N-no.” Your heart thundered. 

“Hm,” He murmured. “I’ll have to try to change that.” 

And then he was pressing your body back into the seat and kissing you hard on the mouth. 

 Oh my god, it was heaven. He tasted like minty chapstick and weed, and you sighed, your mind going blank. 

His long fingers tangled in your hair, dragging you closer, and a low noise came from his chest as you opened your mouth. You pulled away after a long minute, gasping, which only prompted Suna to trail open mouthed kisses down your neck. 

You leaned your head back to give him easier access, letting out an embarrassing noise as his hand slid under your shirt to trace the skin of your stomach. 

You weren’t a virgin, but you had only had sex with one person--your previous boyfriend--and it had been less than satisfactory the few times you had done it. Apparently you had missed the physical contact more than you thought. 

You sat up, and Suna pulled away, his eyes a little glazed over and his hair messed up. God damn, he was fine. 

He smiled slowly as your eyes trailed down his chest to his crotch, and he slid his seat all the way back so there was enough room for you to crawl into his lap. 

It was awkward, and you slammed your head on the roof of the car hard enough to make you yelp in pain as you tried to maneuver over to him. But any embarrassment you might have felt washed away as he burst out laughing and kissed you gently on the mouth. 

You tugged at his shirt in annoyance, suddenly pissed that it was still in place, and he awkwardly pulled over his head. 

“Pushy,” he muttered, and you flicked him hard on the forehead. 

“Dick.” 

“No need to beg, sweetheart. You’ll get it soon.” 

You swallowed hard and your thighs clenched in anticipation, even as you rolled your eyes. 

Any annoyance you had flew from your head as he slipped a hand down your pants, the other coming up to tangle in your hair. Instead of touching you where you needed him to, he traced along your inner thighs, kissing your collarbone. 

“Suna,” you mumbled, suddenly impatient as you shifted your hips, and he grinned into your skin before you felt his fingers shove the thin fabric of your underwear aside. 

“Oh go--”  Your eyes rolled back as he slowly eased a digit into you, wiggling it as he slowly widened you up. 

“S-Shit,” you gasped, your hands grasping at his shirt as he added another finger, circling his thumb at the same time on your clit. 

“You’re already so fucking wet,” Suna grunted, kissing up your neck as you began to roll your hips, riding his hand. 

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, but he grinned wickedly and immediately pulled his hand from your pants. Your eyes widened in outrage, but you stopped when he held up his fingers, covered in your juices, and shoved them in his mouth. You almost came from the sight, clenching around nothing as your heart stuttered. 

“Fuck, you taste good,” he mumbled, and you felt his dick twitch beneath you. It was hard as a rock in his pants, and you could feel it straining against the fabric. It was pretty big, if the bulge was evidence enough. 

You quickly fumbled to get his zipper open, needing to have him inside you right now. His fingers were good, but you needed... 

Suna smacked your hands away. “Take off your pants,” he ordered, and you obliged, choosing to ignore how hot you got at his commanding tone. You could unpack that later. 

It was a struggle to get the fabric off in the small space, but finally you were back in his lap, and he was holding your hips, and his (long) cock was free of his pants. You reached down, stroking it slowly and rubbing your thumb gently across the tip, spreading the precum that had gathered already. 

“Jesus christ,” Suna said, his voice strained, and he twitched in your hand. 

“Jesus wouldn’t appreciate his name being used in this context.” 

“He’d be jealous of me right now.” 

“You’re definitely going to hell for that.” 

“And you’re not? You little slut.” Suna shoved his fingers in your mouth while his other hand fumbled with a condom which he tugged from his pocket. He slid it down over his length with expert speed, clearly having done this many times before, but you shoved the thought from your mind.

Suna held your hips tightly as you positioned yourself over him, helping you as you eased yourself down onto his dick. He was larger than your last boyfriend, and it burned for a moment as you adjusted to his size, but Suna held your face and stroked your hair as you breathed through it. “You’re such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” he groaned in your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight.” 

His praise made you clench around him, the pain easing away, and you rolled your hips experimentally. The friction on your clit and almost made you cum right away, and you let out a moan into his neck as your head dropped onto his shoulder. Holy motherfucking shit how did it feel so good...

Suna buried his face in your chest as you began to ride him, shifting your hips slowly as you felt his full length hitting points you didn’t even know existed. When he ran his tongue along your nipple, you let out an embarrassing noise and fucked him faster. 

Your legs began to burn, but Suna took over easily, thrusting up into you while you held onto his shoulders. Your moans and the sound of sex filled the car, and your hand slid across the fogged glass of the window as you grasped for anything to hold onto. You were so close to coming, you could feel it all the way down to your toes. 

“You’re doing so good, baby, you feel so good,” Suna groaned, reaching down to rub your clit, his tongue circling your nipple at the same time, and with his voice in your ear, it was enough to finally send you over the edge. You clenched around him, your mouth opening in a silent scream as you came hard all over his cock.  It was easily the best orgasm you’d had during sex, possibly the best ever. Suna didn’t take his eyes off you as you came apart, relishing in how it was him who put that expression on your face, and how only he was seeing you like this right now. 

“And you said flattery doesn’t work on you,” Suna laughed, but you couldn’t even make yourself glare at him. 

“Idiot.” 

You panted as you came down from your high, but Suna still wasn’t finished. You could tell he was getting close by the way his pace picked up and how he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust up into you. His groans were deep and sexy in your ear, making your overstimulated clit throb as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders. 

“F-fuckkkk…” He panted, kissing you again and shoving his tongue in your mouth. He held onto your hair, tangled around his fist, forcing you to lean your head back as he created hickies all along your throat.

He finally came with a groan, his cock twitching as he held onto you tightly, head falling on your shoulder. You both stilled, panting, and you couldn’t help the slow smile that tugged at your lips. For a moment you were too tired to move as you felt his dick soften inside you, so you gently stroked his hair instead. 

“Are you ok?” He murmured, finally lifting his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks were flushed, his hair a wreck, but you were sure you didn’t look much better. 

“I’m great,” you said, smiling. “Are you?”

 Suna blinked, looking dazed for a moment, but he nodded. 

You shifted, trying to get off his lap in the most graceful way possible, but your back slammed against the wheel and the car honked loudly. 

“Jesus!” You cursed, flinching, and Suna rolled his eyes. 

“You just woke the whole neighborhood.” 

“Ugh,” you glared at him as you pulled on your pants, readjusting your shirt to cover your chest once again. 

The car suddenly lit up as headlights pulled up behind you, and you whirled to face Suna. 

“Is that your friend? Wait, where’s your shirt?!” 

He wasn’t listening, casually tugging it over his head as he opened the driver’s side door. You heard a door slam from behind you, and then a guy with grey hair and dark tips leaned down to wave at you from Suna’s side. 

“Hi. Sorry it took so long, but I have the tire.” 

“Thanks,” Suna nodded, and then gestured to you. “Kita, this is Y/n L/n. Y/n, this is my friend Kita Shinsuke.” 

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you said, but you felt your stomach drop as Kita’s eyes went to the fogged windows, where your hand print was still visible. 

“Yeah…” He raised his eyebrows. “Nice to meet you too.” 

Suna crossed his arms, looking bored. “Wanna help me change the tire?” 

The two boys left you alone as they went to swap out the flat, and you worked on trying to get your face to stop burning. By the time Suna finally got back, you felt decently less embarrassed; he probably did this all the time, so for Kita, it was definitely nothing new. He probably wouldn’t even remember your name. 

“Hey,” you looked over at Suna in surprise as he slid back into the driver’s seat and gently grabbed your face, kissing you slowly. 

“What was that for?” You sighed when he pulled away. 

He shrugged, smirking. “Are you still hungry?” 

Part 1 

Part 2

[randomblog178]

Jiminies Sick Day

Jimin fell sick & Hoseok feeds him some soup, but Jimin is too sneezy to eat it

warnings: snz, fever

———————————————————————

“HfPtCH!!” Jimin let out another sneeze into his now very wet crumpled up tissue. Hoseok interrupted “That was 6!” Him and Taehyung were counting the amount of times Jimin sneezed, not that they had anything better to do. “I got 8 though!” Taehyung shouted from across the room

That’s enough you guys!” Namjoon started scolding them for teasing Jimin, as their leader went on about how they shouldn’t be so “insensitive” to Jimin, the sick member was busy with his own problem—his shitty sinuses—and sneezed a rapid quadruple into his hands. “HelTChew HeTCHee, HaPcHgnx ETCHEWW...ugh” Yoongi looked up at Jimin as he’s never seen him sneeze more than twice. “and I thought Kook was the sneezy one...those didn’t sound very good Jimin” Yoongi spoke, who was now very worried for the younger. “Ib fide hyung—“ he said before blowing his nose, then scrubbing it to relive the itch that’s been bothering him all day. “Just a little sn..s-HEpCHEEW—sneezy today...I don’t know why” He put his tissue down and nuzzled his pinkish nose into Hoseoks shoulder. “Oh Jiminie...are you feeling sick? your temperature feels warmer than usual” Hobi said with his hand placed on Jimins forehead. “Sorta..I don’t know what’s gotten into me today...It wasn’t that bad in the morning but now my nose wont stop itchin..neh..eh—HNGXTT—Sorry..”

Jimin held the tissue up to his twitching nose once again and rubbed aggressively. “Don’t do that hyung” Taehyung held Jimin back from scrubbing his nose with the tissue “you’ll make it worse”. Jimin could kind of understand how he had made himself sick. Practicing a choreo for hours, almost every day of the week can really take a toll on someone. Plus, he’s been stressing out lately over some lyric he’s been working on. In fact Jimin was surprised that he didn’t have it worse. But Jimin had always been a pretty sneezy person, he grew up with an easily disturbed nose and crappy sinuses. He even checked the pollen count several times just in case, it wasn’t that high to the point where his allergies should be acting up. He checked again one more time, and to no surprise it was the same result. “We don’t have anything planned for today! so we can stay here and take care of Jimin!” Hoseok enthusiastically announced. When members got sick, Hobi was usually the one who would care for them the most. Not that the other members didn’t care for them, but Hobi was a bit more expressive about it. Nevertheless they were all glad that they could stay in the house and take care of their Jimin

Now, Jin decided it was a good time to make something hot for Jimin to eat; “I’ll make you some soup, would you like that Jiminie?” Jimin nodded his head as Jin headed straight into the kitchen and starting heating up a can of chicken noodle soup. It was convenient to have a lot of soup in the house in case one of the members got sick, after all it was pretty common when 7 people were living in one place. Jin was finished prepping his younger member food and brought it straight to the table Jimin was sitting at

“It’s still really hot so let it cool off first!”

Then, the familiar sounds of Jimin having another sneezing fit; “ok tha..thanks—HEpTCHEW, HATCHEW, ETCHH, ETCHEW—thanks” followed by a short sniff.

All of the members watched Jimin struggle to lift the spoon with his weakened arm; And Hoseok wasn’t going to let Jimin feed himself in these conditions. “I can feed you!” Holding the bowl in his lap, Hobi carefully scooped up some of the soup and brought it up to Jimins mouth

“here comes the airplane! open wide”

Jimin mumbled under his breath

“i’m not a kid hyungieee”

Hoseok just chuckled a bit and once again lifted the spoon to his hyungs mouth. This time before he got to feed him, Jimins nose twitched. He pinched his nose closed and braced himself for another sneeze—or a couple of them. “heh...eh..HNGHNXT HEYTCHOO HNXGT” Jimin looked back up, clearly embarrassed as his face was glowing red. “don’t be embarrassed Chim!” Hobi ripped a sheet of tissue paper out of its box and held it up to Jimins nose. “Blow”. Jimin obeyed, however the tissue paper resulted in making his already sensitive nose even more irritated than it was. Jungkook saw that Jimin struggling and helped him out a bit

“Heh...ha...h-...ugh”

“aww lemme help you out, boop” As soon as he booped Jimins nose, he immediately saw results. Jimin tried to stiffle his sneezes, but they were too powerful to control

“h...ha..HePTcHEW, HNGXT, HEPTCHH, GNXTT ACHTCHEW, H..heh—HETCHEE HACHTCHW...’scuse me” Jimin looked back up, his face even redder than before

“That was intense, you okay?”

“Yes ib fide”. Hoseok quickly finished feeding Jimin his soup, with a couple sneezes here & there but thankfully none of them were full blown fits

“Thanks hyung”

“No problem Chim!” Hoseok said and ruffled the youngers messy hair. Taking care of a sick Jiminie was stressful, but his face is so cute that you could never be mad!

———————————————————————

This was a bit of a random idea but i thought it was cute so why not, and sorry this took forever...tumblr hates me and didn’t save this draft so I had to re-write it all + school is a bitch :( but hopefully i can write more often!!

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Under My Skin: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Words = 4.3k

Chapter warnings = swearing, bad words, let me know if I missed anything!

Summary = Despite the explosive argument that resulted on your last mission with Poe, Leia decides another is in order

A/N = I made up the planet that they go to, as far as I’m aware it doesn’t exist in the Star Wars canon, but when I wrote the first draft I had no wifi to research a planet and then I couldn’t be bothered to change it. Also I know nothing about flying, nor about physics, I have based this on my (limited) experience of driving and therefore taken a lot of artistic license - I am sure what I have made these characters do is not actually possible. 

Edit = Cross posted to AO3

Chapter 1

***

Poe Dameron was irritating on a normal day. A grounded Poe Dameron was worse. Like a caged fathier with no outlet for his excessive levels of energy it felt like he was pacing the length of the base multiple times a day, making it almost impossible to avoid him.

Not that that stopped you from trying. To complicate matters, you were doing your best to not think about him at all. So far, it was going well. You hadn’t even talked to him since the debrief, making a special effort to not even look at him when he was in the same room as you.

The debrief had taken place a couple of days after you’d shouted at Dameron, and had been unbelievably awkward. Leia and General Holden had been polite, running through any spare details of information gathered in the compound, what type of books there were, what they were about, what languages they’d been in.

After you’d talked, it was Dameron’s turn, answering questions about the objects in their cases, what planets they were from, how old they were, if they formed a collection. It felt like it went on forever, finally making it onto questions about your shooter, was it the suspected owner, how many droids appeared, was the security system as expected?

You were sure Dameron would be sneering at you, so you avoided looking at him, and didn’t dare directly address him. Keeping your hands clasped in your lap had helped prevent visible shaking.

Saying as little as possible, you’d escaped at the first opportunity, ignoring how Poe stood up, and desperately pretending that you couldn’t hear how he immediately started to talk, more animated than he’d been the entire time you’d been there.  

Both of you had been in trouble; Dameron for hiding his injuries, and you for shouting at him. And while he’d been the one officially grounded, it was of little comfort, knowing that it was no doubt due to him failing his physical. And now Dameron had been able to defend himself and probably slag you off in the same sentence while you had left, feeling like a child sent to their room.  

But unable to fly it felt like he was all over base, just where and when you didn’t want him to be.

Like now. You were working on a mission report with a bar of chocolate to keep you going, lying nearly horizontal on a couch. Background music was playing in your headphones and your datapad was open with a number of tabs and the mission report was there, right in front of you, half written - and yet your eyes kept flicking over to Dameron sat by the center table.

You weren’t sure he’d seen you when he walked in, hidden as you were behind the shelves in the corner. You liked this nook, it always made you feel protected and the idea of Dameron finding this corner and no doubt ruining your sense of security vaguely irritated you. Looking through the gaps you could see his legs resting on the chair opposite him, and if you sat up a bit, you saw that his back was to you, facing the door, his shoulders tight.

Ignoring him, you tried to get back to work, and you would never have admitted it, but the noises as he worked was...nice enough, in it’s own way. Little growls of frustration that you could barely hear over your music, the occasional sentence read aloud, BB-8’s reassuring little beeps. They made you feel less alone.

Finally, finally, you finished. Dameron didn’t look like he was any closer to getting up and leaving, and you took your time shutting down your pad. You’d have to pass him. It had to be done, you wanted to have a shower and go to bed, but...still.

You intended on ignoring him, but it felt excessive to leave without even a - “Goodnight, Dameron.” It was short as you passed and you resisted the weird urges inside of you that wanted to insult him and make sure he was ok at the same time.

He didn’t say anything at first, and you exhaled heavily in relief, and...something else which you didn’t want to unpack.

Until he said your name. Your first name.

You stopped walking, jaw clicking in annoyance as your back tensed. “I’m sorry.” His voice floated from out behind you, strong but quiet. You looked at the door in front of you. It was probably about 4 steps away - you couldn’t have walked a little faster?

“In the medbay, what I said… it was out of order. It was too harsh and I’m sorry.” He paused and you still didn’t move, frozen to the spot. “I didn’t mean it. Any of it, sweetheart. I-” he paused again and changed his mind. “I’m sorry.”

Finally you turned around, a strange trembling rising from your stomach to your chest. Your eyes narrowed, mouth turning up in distaste.

“You’re sorry?” you spat, taking care not to look at his face. “You were only too happy to badmouth me to Leia and General Holden afterwards though!” You took a step backwards, conscious of how far the door was. Your eyes rose from the floor to his face, ignoring the slight signs of tiredness around his eyes, the first time you’d looked directly at him since the medbay.

Shaking your head, you glanced away, the reminder sending hot embarrassment through you, still.

Dameron’s head has dropped into his hands and he’s pulling slightly at his curls. Your breath quickens in annoyance as you start talking again. “Whatever, I-” The slamming of his hands on the table interrupts what you’d been about to say. His hands are clenched into fists, knuckles white, and the look on his face scares you.

“You don’t have a clue! You’re determined to think badly of me aren’t you?”

For the first time, words escape you. Dameron walks towards you, quick paced and you back away until you reach the wall. There’s something poking into the small of your back, but the physical discomfort is less than the discomfort you feel radiating off Dameron.

He’s close to you now, close enough that you can smell him, a deep rich smell, one that smells like a man, and why do you like it? His hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides, like he wants to reach forwards and shake you.

You match his glare, finally finding your words, “I’m determined to think of you based on your actions, Commander.” He stiffens at the use of his title, but you continue. “I know you’re a better pilot than I am, but you need to learn not to look down on people who are a lower rank than you!”

Dameron’s mouth opens...and then shuts without comment. As you continue glaring at him, you realise this is the first time he’s been speechless around you. And it’s now, his body so close he’s nearly pressing you into the wall and what the hell is poking you? You can feel your heart beating quickly and you hope he doesn’t notice it in your neck.

“Well, maybe I do, but you need to learn not to judge others. Not everything’s as simple as it seems!” He’s not shouting anymore, but his voice still feels dangerous.

Whatever. You don’t want to be a part of this anymore. You push roughly past him, hitting his shoulder as you do and mumbling a “Fuck off” under your breath as you finally make your escape.

***

No sooner had you rejected Poe’s apology than you wished you had accepted. It had been an automatic reaction, snapping back at him in your hurt. You’d never been close to Poe, the snub he’d given you when you met preventing you from ever seeing him in a favourable light.

And Poe’s apology was causing an annoying thought to run through your mind. One you had absolutely no business thinking about, and you didn’t know what had brought it about.

But still. What had you missed out on by not being Poe’s friend?

The answer was, of course, absolutely nothing.

Especially now.

It would no longer be enough to bicker like siblings with a rivalry. Regret made you clench your jaw and your heart around Poe Dameron, a physical remainder of the damage you’d done.

This was a new feeling. This was proper anger, real hurt. It was unfamiliar and you weren’t quite sure what to do with it.

You didn’t walk around the base unless you had too now, preferring the isolation of your room to the fear that would shoot through you every time you saw someone with curly hair.

Instead, you found people came to you. Rose was a frequent visitor and you were always happy to see her, even if she didn’t quite understand your reluctance to leave. Members of your squadron came to catch you up on what you missed and after a couple of days you began to think maybe you were being ridiculous. Would it really be so bad if you saw him again?

The decision was taken out of your hands when Kare knocked on your door. She was holding her helmet, with her orange flight suit zipped up. She had a pretty bad case of helmet hair, blonde strands flopping into her face contrasting brilliantly with her brown skin. Dameron stood behind her, determinedly not looking into your room, looking slightly at odds in a normal shirt.  

Great. You couldn’t even avoid him by not going anywhere.

“Hi!” she started, pausing, “Are you alright?”

You hum gently at her, tiredness scratching at your eyes, despite the amount of sleeping you’ve been doing. “What’s going on? Where are you off to?”

“I just got back from a recon mission,” she tells you, and sleep is still pulling at you. “General Organa asked me to tell both of you that she wants to see you for a briefing tomorrow.”

You look again at Poe, as he nods stiffly.

“Is that everything?” He’s not even looking at Kare, and you shoot her a questioning glance.

“It’s at 8 in her office,” Kare says, shaking her head, silently telling you not now. You bit back an irrational laugh as Dameron nods again, leaving as fast as he can. “You’ve pissed him off!”

You’ve not managed to shut the door as she says this, and you shush her desperately as the two of you dissolve into giggles. “So it’s true?” Kare’s taken Rose’s usual seat at your desk, spinning round with the soles of her feet scraping on the floor. “You shouted at him?”

You sigh. That.

“I - yes. He did something stupid,” you tell her and she lets out a chuckle.

“When doesn’t he?” And maybe it’s something about her expression, and the contrast with her dry tone, but it makes you laugh again as she continues, “Don’t worry, everyone thinks he deserved it.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised. “They do?”

She nods, “Yeah. You’ll have to work with him on this mission though.” She’s picking up objects on your desk, and haphazardly returning them to the wrong place. You huff a little at the idea but change the topic.

***

Walking into Leia’s office the next day, you immediately rolled your eyes when you saw Dameron pulling a face as he made eye contact with you.

“Ok this stops right now.” Leia’s voice is sharp and to the point as she glares at the two of you. “This is ridiculous. The two of you are on the same side, fighting the same fight and you can’t even be in the same room?”

“With all due respect General, the enemy of my enemy is not my friend,” you say, not looking away from Dameron. He looks better than usual, wearing a black t-shirt that somehow makes his hair look darker, his arms stronger, his face fresher.

Leia huffs, and gestures to the seat next to Dameron which you take ungraciously, as she continues. “Perhaps not, but you are on the same side. I would like to ask for at least civility towards each other.” Dameron’s wearing tac gear, you realise, scanning up and down his body. Knee pads blend into the black of his trousers, which are tucked into a hefty pair of boots. Your eyes keep catching on the smoothness of his jaw and throat, he must have just had a shave. “Shake hands.”

Your mouth drops open, finally looking away. “What?!” Both of you speak at the same time. You look back at him to see him smiling gently at you. You frown, but stick your hand out, breaching the gap.

“Truce?”

You’re acting annoyed, but there’s a thrumming excitement rising again in you. A mission is a mission, even if it means working with someone you don’t really want to.

You ignore the very small part of you that does want to be friends with him.

Dameron’s hand is warm when it grasps yours, strong in his conviction, and there’s something unreadable in face as he replies. “Truce.”

Leia smiles at you when you turn back to face her, and you have to squash down your own, wanting to remain annoyed at Dameron. Clicking a button on her desk, she starts playing a hologram. It’s a video replay of a number of ships - 2 distinctly First Order TIE fighters, and 3 Resistance X-wings. The TIE fighters are moving in a way you’ve never seen before, unprecedented skill allowing them to miss Resistance shots that should have been hits.

Leia allows the video to play a number of times before waving her hand to freeze the image. You can only gape at her, not quite sure what she wants you and Poe to do about it. Dameron’s hands are already twitching in your peripheral vision, like he’s imagining how he would manipulate the controls to achieve the same effect.

“This was supposed to be a simple recon mission, which was not supposed to have any engagement,” Leia starts, “but the First Order showed up, and our pilots decided to shoot first, but couldn’t make a hit. I want the two of you to work out how they managed to do this. And I’ve arranged for the two of you to practice on Greplimin, which is a largely empty planet two parsecs from here.” Sighing, she leaned on the desk, giving Dameron the holo stick. “Can I trust you not to kill each other?”

Dameron leaves as fast as he can, muttering something about finding BB-8, but you hang back, waiting by the door to ask Leia something.

“Why have you asked me?” You still feel too vulnerable when you look at her, and in the back of your mind you wonder if you’ll ever get over this.

Leia only raises an eyebrow, asking you to elaborate.

“I’m not the best pilot.” You start desperately. “I know I’m not. I would never tell him-,” you throw your arm at the door, “-that, but it’s true. I’m not the best person to ask and if you want someone who gets on with Dameron, I don’t - why, why did you choose me?”

Leia sits down and you stand there, feeling weirdly lanky.

“You’re right.” How is she so confident? “You’re not the best pilot. But you have an unconventional way of flying and the First Order didn’t manage to pull that stunt by being conventional.”

“Figure it out, Lieutenant,” she dismisses you, attention already on some papers on her desk.

***

Dameron had begun to make dinner by the time you’d finished setting up the tent. You’d grumbled under your breath as you worked to construct the two camp beds, sure that the Resistance could afford two tents. Outside, Dameron’s quiet conversation with BB-8 was muffled, indistinct words floating to you under the chirping sounds of the birds and insects.

Even in your grumpy mood as you’d flown out, you could appreciate the beauty of Greplimin. Green had stretched out as far as you could see, circling until you’d found a good place to make camp. A large clearing surrounded by trees, a lake not too far of a walk for water, which was now set alight with the glow of the three suns as they began to set.

The food, cooked by Dameron over an open fire, was nice enough, but something had risen to the back of your throat, making it hard to swallow. You don’t talk much, saying the bare minimum in order to resist snapping at Dameron unnecessarily. As much as you don’t want to admit it, Leia is right - you are on the same side of the war. Conversation is stilted and unnatural, so you take the cowards way out, feigning tiredness to escape.

But that doesn’t mean Dameron has any business being as attractive as he is on this mission. It’s as though ever since your argument in the common room, his attractiveness has increased dramatically and you hate it.  

By the next morning, a slight stubble had started to grow, darkening his jaw and making your heart beat a little faster as the two of you eat in silence, lit by the glow of the sun rise. Out of annoyance, you told yourself, after all, it’s unprofessional to have stubble. And anyway, who can grow facial hair that fast? From the look of him yesterday, he’d freshly shaved.

And he’d started to look at you differently too. You’re just not sure what the difference is.

The next day is spent flying. Both you and Dameron are a little rusty, having both been grounded for a month now. You have to focus on breathing calmly when you first sit back in the cockpit, the image of Poe near to collapse in the seat behind you sending you back to your last mission. You have to turn around to convince yourself that he’s sat in the other X-wing.

Turning on your comm link, the two of you run through pre-flight checks together, methodical and reassuring, before running through the normal exercises, switching between who is acting as First Order and who is Resistance.

It’s nice. Comforting, even, the familiar routines you could do in your sleep, muscle memory taking over when your brain stumbles.

And even though neither you or Poe say a whole lot, it’s a nice safety net, knowing that there’s someone on the other end of the line. It’s the odd little phrases that he uses, praising you or himself, with the occasional swear word or whoop of delight thrown in. He’s playing music, because of course he is, but you can only catch the odd bar, not enough to recognise any songs.  

Not for the first time, you recognise the intimacy of comm’s, how talking directly to the other’s ears feels...more personal, somehow. So you bite back any quick replies you think of, pushing down any breathless laughter at his comments.

You love flying too. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of floating in the sky, taking turns at a ridiculous pace, and feeling adrenaline burn you up on the inside.

The usual exercises end up taking over the whole day, you and Dameron blasting them until they’re perfect. Briefly you wonder if this is what it would be like to be in Black Squadron, perfection expected rather than a nice added bonus. He doesn’t seem surprised though, when you manage them. You frown, you’d expected some kind of taunt about how you’d done better than he’d thought...but the comms were silent to your expectations, just the odd, respectful, “Well done.”

On the third day, you give the First Order’s new moves a go. Neither you nor Dameron are quite brave enough to fully twist the way they did, and you’re not sure what his worry is, but the idea of overheating your engine mid-flight is enough to stop you.

Lunch is spent with the two of you eating together and poring over the video, stopping and starting it at different moments to talk over the best ways to fall out of the spin. Having a goal, a problem to solve makes conversation flow much easier and you’re grateful for it. It’s something else to concentrate on and you can ignore sparks of irritation as he scratches his stubble, the noise swooping low in your chest.

After lunch, Dameron acts as First Order, and it’s a surprise when his voice crackles through the comm links.

“I’m going for it.”

He’s determined, and you know there’s not much you can say to stop him, especially because you’re out here to solve this, but you still yelp out a “What!”

“If I can get enough height I reckon I could do it.” Comes the reply and you can only sigh and watch as Dameron’s ship starts to climb. Switching gears, you start to follow, circling round to imitate how the Resistance would catch up.

Poe starts to twirl as he descends, copying the way the First Order pilots had gained speed and unpredictability, and you struggle to hold your ship steady in his airstream.

He starts to spin faster and faster, cutting his engine and throwing the X-wing to the left. You’re miles behind now, having been unable to reach the same speed and you can only listen to his steady swearing as he struggles to start the engines back up again.

As he reaches closer to the tree line you start shouting. “Deploy! Deploy now!” Desperation laces your voice, “Poe deploy your parachute NOW!”

And he does.

A plume of fabric billows out from the back of his X-wing, slowing him down enough that you can see the exact moment when Poe restarts the engines. It doesn’t last for long though, and all Poe can do is control his landing, skidding through the trees.

You careen after him, bruising your landing and scrambling to get out of the cockpit to go and help clear the door to get Poe out. “Are you alright?” You ask, looking into his eyes to check for signs of a concussion. He was wearing his helmet, but that was a rough landing.

And his eyes are a really pretty shade of brown, swoons a voice inside of you, which you try and squash with a few choice swear words. Now is definitely not the time. There is never a good time for noticing Dameron’s eyes.

Poe seems alright though, accepting your hand of help to jump out. “I never knew you cared, sweetheart” he grins, and then groans. “Could do with some water though.”

So you help him back to your campsite, giving him a glass and sitting next to him in silence. Except, for the second time that day, it’s comfortable.

“The spinning was good,” you offer after a moment.

You’re not looking at him, the water glimmering as a distraction. He only hmphs in return.

“It was!” And are you trying to convince Poe Dameron of all people that he did a good job? You take a quick glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

He’s looking in the same direction as you and you note that the colour has returned to his cheeks again.

“You got good speed up,” you continue, “faster than I could and we just need to figure out how to cool our engines down - especially when we’re in hyperspace.”

“I want to know how they didn’t crash into each other.” You look at him again, his voice thoughtful. “There’s just so little control, once you cut the engine after spinning like that, you’re subject to airflow but they knew where the other would be.”

“Do you think it’s possible they’re better than us?” If you hadn’t watched Poe talk, you’d have thought you hallucinated.

Grinning, you shove your shoulder against his. “Better than you and me? You’re having a laugh.”

“Yeah that’s not it.”

There’s not much to say after that, the occasional huff of laughter bubbling out.

***

You do eventually have to go back to the X-wings, both of which need patching up. The hull of yours is damaged where you hit some trees when landing, while Poe has to start with packing up his chute before even thinking about the wiring and his engines.

Once you’ve done all you can for yours, you clamber into Poe’s cockpit. Thankfully he doesn't notice at first, allowing you a moment to compose yourself. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms as he grips together some wiring. BB-8 is sat in the pilot's chair, beeping some instructions at him.

Meanwhile there’s a tool sticking out of his mouth, and something about that is insanely sexy, but you clear your throat before your mind can go anywhere. Poe looks up and oh maker this man is going to destroy me.

You scowl at him as you speak, as though scowling can undo your traitorous thoughts. “Do you need a hand?” Poe looks like he’s going to say no, but then something sparks out, hitting his hand, and he drops the wires, mouthing a swear in pain, although he keeps his teeth clenched around the screwdriver.

Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, shitshitshitshit.

You can’t look away from his mouth and you need to reset, to go back to square one, base level, because your heart has stopped in your chest and you know what this means. Instead you whack Poe over the head as you push your way into his space, stepping over the wires on the floor.

“Do you want my help or not?” you ask again, and maker you’re rude. Your parents would be disappointed. But Poe looks surprised that you’re offering again.

His eyes meet yours when he replies, steady and unwavering. “Yeah that would be nice.” The tension gradually dissipates as the two of you work together, rewiring and melding your way through the underneath of the control panel.

You do your best to ignore the touches, telling yourself that it’s inevitable in such a small space as your hands brush together as you lean over him, or how close he is when he peers over your shoulder to instruct you which piece to hold while he adjusts them back to their proper place.

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Chapter 1<----->Chapter 3

Tag list:

@lady-sigyn​ @foxilayde​ Want to be added? Shoot me an ask!

[grapefruitsketches]

Night Has Fallen, And So Should We

For fytheuntamed’s Untamed Fall Fest Day 17: Falling

Rated T, 1,383 Words. Pre-Nielan, Post-Sunshot, Fluff, NMJ is very pro Letting LXC Rest

Also available on AO3

It started with a just a simple slip. Lan Xichen was sure that he had placed the teacup on the table, but the clattering sound, the trickle of tea creeping slowly towards where he knelt, said otherwise.

“Xichen?” Nie Mingjue raised an eyebrow his way.

Xichen let a smile flicker across his face, though his jaw was still clenched in confusion, “I’m sorry da-ge, must have let myself get too distracted.”

“Mm,” Nie Mingjue nodded, turning back towards the various correspondence he was meant to be answering.

Xichen stood, brow furrowed slightly as he looked down at the cup, rolling gently side to side. Playful, almost, despite its recent betrayal.

He sighed, “I’m going to go get something to clean this up. I’ll be right back.”

“Mnm,” was again Mingjue’s only answer.

And Xichen could only hope that the other man was focused enough on his work that he hadn’t noticed the slight stumble to Xichen’s step as he walked to the vanity, finding the soft cloths he looked for.

--

Night had long fallen when the quiet sounds of brushes sweeping against paper was next interrupted. This time, by a long, unselfconscious yawn.

“I think I’m about ready to turn in for the night, Xichen,” Mingjue said, standing up from the desk and stretching out his arms, shaking out his cramping hands, “What about you?”

Xichen stared at the lines of writing in front of him a few moments longer, trying to make sense of it. He had wanted to finish at least the inventory reports. And if not that, then at least enough of them to last the month. Failing that, he had expected to at least be done this one page.

But the words were blurring at the edges, and he squinted close. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out if the kitchens were complaining that they were low on wood or low on rice. Maybe both? He couldn’t tell.

He bit his lip, “I… I need just a bit more time. Maybe I’ll meet you for tea later?”

Mingjue laughed, “I can wait. I know how you are – if I leave you here now, I might not see you until morning!”

Xichen let the corners of his mouth tick up just a bit, but didn’t take his eyes off the page. Just this one report. He could finish this one report.

He could hear Mingjue moving about the room, each step reverberating in his head. He pulled the page up close to his face with one hand, and the other moved up to his temple, massaging it lightly.

It was wood. It was definitely wood they were asking for. Ok. All he would have to do is write a quick note, sign it, and then one of the kitchen staff could go and place the order on the sect’s behalf. He pulled a blank sheet of paper over, blinking tiredly. All he had to do was write the order. Copy the requested amount of wood. Sign his name. Then he could go.

He swallowed and cleared his throat lightly before beginning.

Moments later, he was staring at the most childishly scrawled out characters he had seen since grading one of the disciples’ history essays. He set the brush down and set the paper aside. Once it had dried, he would use the back as scrap paper in something else.

He started again, biting on his tongue, trying to keep himself awake as he moved the brush painstakingly over the page, lingering just a bit too long here and there, leaving lines a hair too thick, the odd stroke just a little wobbly.

He compared the two drafts, sighed, and chose the second as the marginally better option. He just didn’t have it in him to try a third time. He set the chosen note aside, and promised himself he would notify the kitchen staff to pick it up from him first thing the next morning.

Shoulders slumped, he sighed in relief at being done this simple, but for some reason exceedingly tiresome task. He looked up.

And met Nie Mingjue’s eyes, which were watching him carefully.

“What is it, da-ge?” Xichen asked politely, rearranging the brushes, the ink, the papers on his desk, trying to get them back to the way he liked them.

“What’s wrong?” Mingjue asked, crossing his arms.

Xichen frowned, “Nothing’s wrong, that just… took longer than usual,” he pulled his lips back into a smile, “I’m sorry, you must be hungry. We can go now?”

Mingjue let out a grunt of frustration and shook his head, kneeling so that he was now eye-to-eye with his sworn brother, “You’re not going to get off that easy,” he pointed to a spot on the bridge of his nose, “Look at me. Right here. Now, follow my finger.”

“Da-ge, I don’t know why…” But Xichen tracked the finger anyway, moving his head side to side, up and down, blinking to keep it in focus, “I’m fine.”

Mingjue looked at him skeptically, “Xichen, in case you’ve forgotten, I have a stubborn younger brother too. I’m years past ‘I’m fine’ working on me,” he lowered his hand, “You’re delayed. You’ve been working yourself too hard.”

Xichen sighed, still smiling gently, “I’ve had just a bit of a headache, maybe, and I’m a little tired. That’s all. But really, da-ge. It’s nothing to worry about. I just need a good night’s rest.”

“Alright,” Mingjue slapped his hands decisively on his thighs as he stood, reaching a hand out to Xichen, “Then go get a good night’s rest. Then I won’t worry.”

Xichen chuckled, still tidying up the piles of paper, “Fine. I will, just let me…”

“No,” Mingjue insisted, “No ‘just.’ Now.”

Xichen raised an eyebrow in Mingjue’s direction.

“I’m serious,” Mingjue said, “Come on, Xichen, I know you know I know you well enough to know that if I leave you alone now, you’ll just go right back to work.”

Xichen smiled, teasing note to his voice, “Maybe you’re right, but certainly I’m allowed, as sect leader, to decide when I stop working for the night?” But despite the apparent protests, he placed his hand in Mingjue’s offered one, letting himself be pulled up. He stumbled, and was glad, even if slightly embarrassed, to have Mingjue’s chest there to catch him.

“Sure,” Mingjue shrugged, but spoke quietly, almost tenderly as he led Xichen over to his bed, “You may be allowed, but I seem to remember you saying at one point that Cloud Recesses prides itself on its hospitality? Well, I’m a guest, and I would like my host to go to bed.”

Xichen chuckled even as his eyelids fluttered, suddenly very heavy. He yawned, “And I’m nothing if not a good host, I suppose, but…” he forced his eyes to stay open, catching Nie Mingjue’s gaze, eyes twinkling even through their tired haze, “But I hope you don’t still only see yourself as a guest here, da-ge?”

Nie Mingjue let out a breath of laughter, “You Lans. Always so vague,” he helped Xichen pull off his heavy outer robes and pulled back the blankets on the bed, letting Xichen slip underneath the covers. He smoothed Xichen’s hair back, pulling the pin out of his hairpiece and setting the ornament aside, “Sleep now. You can explain how I should think of myself in the morning, alright?”

“Mmhm,” Xichen hummed, eyes closed, already seeming half asleep.

But as Mingjue began to withdraw, Xichen’s hand caught his again, “Thank you,” the dozing man whispered, clenching the Mingjue’s hand tightly.

At the words, at the peaceful smile on Xichen’s face, Mingjue had the sudden urge to lean down, to kiss the sleeping man’s forehead. But the Lan ribbon stood in his way. And despite any knowing glances from Huaisang, despite the reddened cheeks Mingjue sometimes thought he noticed on his friend when they happened to catch each other’s eyes at sect leader meetings, and even despite the fact that Mingjue, and seemingly Mingjue alone, was invited to work late into the night in the Hanshi, Mingjue couldn’t know for sure yet whether “not being just a guest” meant enough that he could touch it.

So instead, he simply squeezed his friend’s hand back.

“Anytime, Xichen,” he said, “Sleep well.”

And Xichen did.

[c-c-cherry]

Mista Whump headcanons? I loved his chapter in the dadbacchio fic!

Hi! I’m glad you’re liking Communication Breakdown so far, the new chapter should be out once I’m done with my Halloween stuff! <3

//content warning for whump-related shit (sickness, major injury, etc..)

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I feel like I should just shove in my pre-established headcanons that I always have for Mista before I start like what I did for my man Jonathan:

-Oldest in the family and (ironically) has four younger sisters! 

-His parents worked a LOT growing up so he was often treated as the third parent growing up, doing almost everything for them in search of their approval

-It made him very responsible, but it also made him feel like he had to be responsible for everything and everyone

-That mindset followed him to where he is now; no matter how relaxed he seems to be, there’s always a feeling in the back of his head that he has to manage everything and be responsible for everyone’s safety and health

-Loves physical affection but would rather die than be an “active burden” on anyone

-Not in any form of contact with his family since he went to prison (and misses them a lot) ;(

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Pain Tolerance

-Getting shot? Been there, done that. Kidnapped and interrogated? He can hold off for a surprisingly long amount of time. Drugged? Barely even phases him.

-We all know he probably has the highest pain tolerance in the entire team

-Partially because it seems like he always gets hurt no matter what he’s doing

-I headcanon him as the oldest in his family so he was always brought up to have really thick skin and was always thought to be the most responsible growing up

-His parents were working all the time, so that meant he had to take care of his siblings whenever they were hurt

-But meant when he was injured as a kid, he had to deal with it himself :/

-When he first joined the gang, it was:

1) weird not being the oldest, and

2) really weird having people actually worried about you when you got hurt

-Even with Giorno having Gold to help them out all the time and Giorno insisting that its literally his stand’s purpose, he still feels this weighted guilt every time he needs someone else’s help

-Our man acts all whiny about it but truthfully, if he was given the option, he would much rather ride it out on his own or deal with things himself :(

Injury

-In all honesty, he’s probably one of the only members of the team that wouldn’t be opposed to going to a hospital

-Whereas Bruno or Narancia would be fucking terrified of stepping foot in one again for obvious reasons, the rest of the gang are just pretty stubborn about it

...

-He tends to be overdramatic most of the time when he gets hurt, but you can tell when something is really hurting him when he’s absolutely silent

-It’s almost the opposite of his other team members; most of them get uncharacteristically loud and panicky when they’re in serious serious pain but it's almost like his brain just completely shuts down

-He gets so quiet that he’s basically unresponsive and his body keeps trying to numb itself as the pain gets worse and worse

-It always bites him in the ass later when his state starts wearing off and all the pain his body was blocking out comes back tenfold and it's just OUCH

...

-Mista’s a pretty touchy guy. He practically lives off human contact

-Except when he’s hurt.

-His body kicks into this weird overdrive where he wants no one to touch him and he’s just supposed to deal with it himself

-Idk how accurate this actually is in canon but I headcanon that Gold Experience’s healing methods don’t actually hurt that much, it's actually pretty soothing for most people

-The reason Mista always freaks out whenever Gold is healing him is because of his weird defense mechanism that kicks in when he’s hurt

Sickness

-His chapter in Comm Break was pretty much just a sickfic because I decided to give him appendicitis, but I have other headcanons hehehe…

-I was actually going to make him lactose intolerant in the first draft and the chapter being about him having no fucking idea why he was sick and Abbacchio just being like “...dude...”

-I eventually dropped it for something with similar elements but more of a dramatic plot, but I still like the headcanon that he’s too dumb to know that getting sick all the time after eating dairy just isn’t normal

...

-He loves taking care of other people because it reminds him of taking care of his sisters; like he’ll be willing to do anything and he’s a master at making people feel better :)

-But him?

-Oho,,,he fuckin hates being sick >:)

-Maybe not Giorno in The Unknown levels of hatred, but the fact that everyone does nothing but makes sure he’s okay the entire day gives him this warm, fluffy feeling in his chest that MAKES HIM EMOTIONALLY CONFUSED because no one ever gave a shit about him pre-passione

-Is he the type of person to completely deny any feeling of ailment until it’s definitely too late? YES. DEFINITELY.

-Usually it's one of the bucci gang who will figure out he’s under the weather before he does.

“You’re looking a bit pale...”

“Nope.”

“Are you feeling alright? You don’t look so good.”

“Totally fine!”

-He’ll refuse to rest until he passes out, is pressed up against the tiles on the bathroom floor, or someone (usually Bruno) shoves a thermometer in his mouth and proves that he absolutely HAS to

-Give him some medicine and he’ll pass out for HOURS. All he’ll do is sleep because he wants to get over it as soon as possible

Emotional Stress

-Mista’s like an open book when it comes to most emotions

-You might not know when he’s hurt, but you’ll sure as well know when he’s sad or stressed

-He’s not afraid to cry, and even though he probably won’t tell anyone why he’s sad, bottling up his emotions was just something that he was never prone to doing

-Bruno’s gotten used to finding him in the kitchen at 3am waiting for his bread to toast and there’s just tears and Bruno’s like “...Meesta ;-;”

-but then there’s hugs so it's ok :,)

-Also Mista is definitely the type of person to just kind of slink into a room and have someone be like “what’s up?” and he’s like “I’m feeling fucking terrible!! :))))” and before they can even reply BOOM WATERWORKS-

-He’s ultimately not ashamed of it because it helps keep him regulated in the long run (and the homies are always willing to provide him with that good comfort) :)

This sad shit is the exception though…

-When he’s with the bucci gang, he’s not afraid to let his emotions run wild sometimes because he knows it’s always little things to keep him chill

-Not about this, though. Because he actually considers this big

...

-Mista has eternal homesickness for his family.

-His parents, his sisters, his uncles and aunts and cousins.. they all cut contact when he went to prison

-It wasn’t a huge fight, but a slow burn of distancing from each other.

-He misses them so damn much. He misses his childhood home, and the way his Madre would cook, and the stupid shit his sisters used to do...

-It comes and goes in waves; most days the feelings don’t hit him but sometimes, especially on holidays, birthdays of his family members, and even his own birthday, it hits hard.

-Normally when something’s bothering him he doesn’t see a problem in just talking or venting to someone

-But with this it's different because he knows if he starts talking about it, it’ll just be uncontrollable and he’ll be a fucking mess if he even tries

-Mista, despite his demeanour, is extremely good at hiding his feelings when he has to ;-;

-He’s too embarrassed to tell anyone, so he spends a lot of those days curled up in his room, sobbing into his pillow

-Even on holidays, when it’s hard to celebrate at all, he manages to hold it in until celebrating is over

-He knows they all suspect something is up, but he also knows that they won’t push him to say anything

-They can all tell he gets fragile certain times of the year, so they try their best to be extra soft with him when he does decide to come out and spend time with them <3

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I really do love writing for Mista. I should do it more sometimes!!

Got a headcanon you want fulfilled? Askbox is open!! <3

[sunshinetoshi]

1K 😳😳😳 omg is this my bug sis' world domination agenda bcz yes i support 👍 ahem i got a bit sappy here so :")

*inserts read more*

lol ok where should i even start from hmmm anyway cONGRATS ??? 1 THOUSAND OMG DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I ANTICIPATED THIS MOMENT BECAUSE YOU DEFINITELY DESERVE THEM, AND EVEN MORE 🥺 everything about you and your blog is fascinating like, every time i read one of your works, the first reaction is 'wow'. they're all so 😌👍 amazing, omg how am i even mutuals with such a talented human </3

oH AND i'm going to steal this opportunity to talk a lot more bcz i won't be online for rest of september because exams :(( starting with your outfit that you posted aND OMG YES YOU LOOKED SO PRETTY !!! also ik you love ushi but that outfit really gave me kuroo vibes yk like, ice cream date with kuroo ?? or just a beach day with him ?? it could be either one of the boys tbh <3

and i saw ur reblog about why did you follow me ask game or smn but uhh lmao idk, not like i remember since i don't have a good memory but i'm pretty sure it's your wonderful works ( also you because yes i wanted to be friends with you ) aND I DO NOT REGRET IT AT ALL YES <33

and i was playing furries my beef oven yesterday evening, what a glorious song, tchaikowhiskey could never <3333

ALSO I PROMISE THIS IS THE LAST PARAGRAPH SKDJFDSF your soulmate drabbles from your 900 event skjhdf they're so cutee aaaaaa ik i haven't been interacting but they're all in my drafts. ( i mean, i learnt it all for you ) exams better end asap because i want to read them all over again and scream in the tags 😩

aNYWAY CONGRATS AGAIN !! I'M SO PROUD OF U BUG SIS TARA, YOU DROPPED THIS 👑

stop my lul sis literally wrote me this love letter my heart is full akjdjdjd you're the best inez 🥺🥺💖💖 thank you so much im sobbing in the best way wow <33

ice cream date w kuroo you know i'm down yESS!! this thought will now carry my whole day and i love it HAHA

:(( you're the sweetest ahh!!! pls you're one of my longest and beloved moots you know that <33 im so so happy we're friends (I THINK YOU STARTED FOLLOWING AROUND MY EMBARRASSING MOMENTS W STRANGERS FIC LMAOO BC I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR CONTRIBUTION AJDHHD POOR FROG GUY)

bestie he may not be beef oven but at least tchaikowhiskey has walnuts of hours !!

YOU ARE ONE OF MY BEST SUPPORTERS PLS YOUR TAGS ON MY FICS ASCEND ME but plsss if there's anything to learn from me it cant be the drafts amount nooo BAHAHA

thank you again bb you dont understand how soft this made me. and i'll wear it if you wear yours 👑

[prompt-master]

It's Snooping Time

Makoto had the nosiest little sister. He had to shoo her out of his room all the time to keep her from getting her grubby little hands all over his things. He couldn't even begin to count the amount of manga Komaru just straight up stole from him. Not to mention that she even went so far as to snoop through his mail and open his Hope's Peak Acceptance letter while he was out.

He'd made sure to rid his room of anything he didn't want her taking before he left for Hope's Peak. It was the only precaution he could make with even a chance of working. It was such a strange feeling moving into his dorm and not having to worry about Komaru checking every nook and cranny when he turned his back. It was relaxing, honestly. He did miss his sister, and he loved her dearly! But he didn't love some of the crap she pulled.

But that's alright, because now Makoto had a chance to catch up and remind himself of all the things he loved and hated about Komaru. After the Ultimate Pharmacist accidentally caused a risky chemical spill that managed to leak to the dorms through the vents, everyone had been given a week off campus!

He'd been having the time of his life attending as an Ultimate. All his new friends were so lively and made him excited to face each day. He treasured every bond he'd made over the course of the year. It was a bit overwhelming at times being surrounded by the most talented eccentric individuals Hope's Peak's scouters could find, and walking into his quaint little home only reminded him of how average he really was compared to everyone else in the school. He somehow managed to be more average than other raffle winners.

"I'm home-"

"Makoto!"

His mother pulled him into a quick unexpected hug.

"Ack- mom-!"

"Aw, Makoto we missed you! I've never been away from you from so long, you're growing up!" Her arms curled around his back, pulling him in tighter and tighter. One hand ruffled his hair from the back, the other lay on his shoulder.

"I missed you too mom" Makoto laughed, embarrassed as his mom planted a kiss on his head, "but can you please let go? You're crushing me."

"Makoto!" Another voice cried out and Makoto held his chest, recovering from the previous hug.

"Hi Komar- oof!"

She gave him a heavy slap on the back before another hearty hug, giving him a mouthful of hair. He could feel her usual energetic excitement, she pulled off of him quickly, hands on his shoulders and starry eyes wide, "How was it?! Are the students as weird as the internet says?! Do you have any hot upperclassmen?! You go to school with your stupid idol crush now don't you?!"

Just about a year ago all this energy would have left Makoto dizzy and tired, now he considered it low energy compared to the intensity of everyday life around the Ultimates.

Makoto laughed, a soft sweet sound. Home sweet home, after all. He did have much he wanted to tell his sister. She was going to freak out when she found out Yamada Hifumi, the author of her favorite doujin, was in his class. "Calm down Komaru, I just got home."

"Geez," she said, tone light and teasing, "you go to an elite school and come back like you went on a life changing journey! Where's my brother who gets annoyed at all my questions, huh?"

"Give your brother a break, Komaru." Their dad joined the scene, clapping a hand onto Makoto's shoulder. "You'll have plenty of time over the week to hear about all his adventures."

"You just want to hear about it too, dad."

"Guilty as charged." their dad put up his hands in admission, chuckling softly.

"You should get settled in," when his mother smiled, she had little crinkles around her eyes. It was such a small detail but he missed seeing such a genuine joy on someone's face, "we won't have as much to tell you as you will us though."

"That's ok mom!"

Makoto found himself relaxing. Even though he'd been away from home for so long he fit right back in like he always belonged here. After an awkward wave he left down the hall to get into his room. On his way there, an unfamiliar glint of light from the living room wall caught his eye, causing him to look up. There was a new frame up on the wall. More of Komaru's art, maybe? 

He came closer to the simple black frame, seated in a spot that was rather obvious. Like his parents wanted all visitors to see this particular frame. From a distance it looked mostly white and blank. He got close enough to make out the little black text that simply and quickly announced Makoto's acceptance into the school of a lifetime. 

Makoto smiled. They framed his acceptance letter. He was really happy to be home. He felt loved before he left, but now he felt adored. 

As he pushed open the door to his room and dropped his bags to the floor he briefly wondered how different things would be after starting out a new path in his life. But once he sat down on his bed he felt like he'd never really left. He was excited to have dinner with his family again, but he also has text messages from his new friends to look forward to! 

The problem was Makoto got too relaxed. He was used to sleeping in a cozy locked dorm where everyone only bothered to knock in order to ask him to hang out elsewhere. So when Makoto went to dinner he left his backpack free for the picking on the floor of his bedroom. 

And of course, Komaru wasted no time poking her head into said room. How could she not?! Her brother is getting a once in a lifetime opportunity! No, not even that, most lives don't get to experience even a taste of what Makoto gets to indulge in. How could she not want to know more?! A quick inspection of the bags he brought over showed pretty much only clothes and a teddy bear wearing the Hope's Peak emblem on its shirt. 

And then she turned her attention towards his backpack. Maybe she'd find some embarrassing doodles in his notebooks, Makoto did have a tendency to scribble when lectures bored him. She zipped open the bag, bouncing up and down in anticipation as to what she might discover. 

Ugh, boring. Why did Makoto only have a bunch of school supplies in his backp- oh. Well actually, that did make sense. Even though Makoto was accepted into the school unconditionally it seemed he still wanted to prove himself. 

Well, average grades. It's certainly not exceptional but...he is trying. 

Feeling a bit dejected at the lack of juicy information, she opened the front pocket of his backpack with much less vigor than prior. Then she paused.

Oh my, oh my, oh my. What do we have here? 

Within the pocket were several small envelopes each sealed with a well placed red heart sticker.

Confession Letters. 

Naegi Makoto had confession letters. 

There was NO WAY anything in this world could keep Komaru from digging further. She quickly took one of the letters into her hand and inspected it. 

"Maizono Sayaka" 

She gasped, it was the idol crush! That was definitely Makoto's handwriting, it was always a bit distinctly messy. No doubt in her mind that her brother wrote these. 

She looked back into the bag, where so many envelopes lay in waiting for the day someone would open them. She felt herself building up an uncontained excitement. Was Makoto so enamored with Miss Maizono Sayaka that he had to write several drafts of his confession? She could totally imagine Makoto about to hand over his letter before going red in the face and sprinting away in panic. 

She wondered if she could open up some of these without getting caught, she desperately wanted to read the embarrassing contents. She picked another letter from the back of the pouch and turned it over. 

"Kirigiri Kyoko" 

Her amusement grew three sizes. She was trying hard not to laugh, her brother was crushing on two girls who were most certainly out of his league? What did he think he was, an anime protagonist? 

She picked up another, buzzing with excitement. 

"Togami Byakuya"

Her eyes almost popped out of her head at that one. Togami Byakuya? Wait… Togami? Like THAT Togami? Togami Corporation? Wait- a BOY? 

No way. No fucking way. She totally called it. But to think that Makoto wasn't just crushing on a TOGAMI but was writing letters hoping to confess. The image of her average joe brother handing, not just a random someone but a TOGAMI, a handwritten letter made her giggle.

She continued to pick through the letters. He certainly had a thing for Kyoko and Byakuya as there were SEVERAL versions of those letters. There were a few more for Sayaka, and a few singles for others such as someone named Asahina Aoi, and someone named Ikusaba Mukuro.

Was Makoto just falling in love with anyone who so much as looked at him? 

She needed so desperately to know more. She was trying hard not to sputter with laughter at the assortment of letters now in her lap. Makoto didn't just think he was an anime protagonist he seemed like he thought he was a harem protagonist. 

The door opened up, leaving Komaru without even a single moment to put everything back. 

"Komaru, you know I don't like you in my-..." Makoto's slightly annoyed tone cut off as he processed the sight in front of him. 

Komaru. His sister. With all his very personal letters in her grasp. 

Makoto quickly sprung into action. "Ack! No! No stop that! Why are you going through my bag!?" He dropped to his knees, sliding on the wooden floor and scrambling to rip all the letters away from her. 

She held on tight to one of them, it was one of Byakuya's letters. Her face was smug, knowing all too well she was about to bring the motherfucking gavel down on him. 

"Komaru let go!" Makoto whined trying to snag Komaru’s prize for snooping.

"I- ppftt - I can't believe you wanted to date like half your class!" Komaru disregarded her brother's pitiful plee and kept the letter just out of his reach. Her brother's face was beet red as he glared at her.

"H-hey it's not HALF!" Komaru continued to laugh at him, unable to even get a sentence out between her wheezes. Makoto picked up a pillow from his bed and threw it at her face. 

She rolled back with the impact, hopping up onto her feet and balancing on her heels. She held the letter high above her head. 

"I never thought you'd be the type to write CONFESSION LETTERS!" 

Makoto felt panic rushing through his very veins, "its not…!" He couldn't even do much but stay on the ground desperately trying to think of a way out of this situation "They aren't confession letters!! I dont have crushes on all of them now give it back!" 

His face, all the way to his ears, had gone so bright red you could make a paint swatch out of it.  

Komaru's amusement somehow grew worse at his words. She stood tall over him, her smile reminiscent of a cruel villain from an shounen anime. "All of them?" She said. 

Her face hurt from being unable to stop smiling, "All of them?! You have crushes on all of them at the same time?!" 

"No…!" 

"Oh my GOD I thought you just kept switching crushes because you're sensitive! Not piled them up!" 

"I didn’t-!" 

"What was the plan here Makoto?!" 

"I don't know! There is none!" 

"Oh my God I have to read one." 

"No!" 

That got Makoto back into action, jumping up to once again try to tear the letter by force out of his sister's hands. She retaliated by licking his hand when it came near her face. 

"Gross! Komaru!" 

"Makoto please you need to tell me. You're seriously going after a TOGAMI?" 

She was pretty sure if Makoto blushed anymore he'd pass out from a head rush. 

"Tell me what you like about him" she said "or I'll tear this bad boy open!" 

"Honestly, I'm not too sure either…" Makoto had far more memories of Byakuya insulting him for being an 'optimistic commoner idiot' than he did memories of him being nice. 

Komaru flopped back, throwing herself down onto Makoto's bed hard enough that she got a bit of airtime. "You go to an elite school and now you think all these Ultimates are in your league!" She propped herself up on one arm "I mean, I expected this for Maizono, but I always thought you were more modest than this Makoto. You should know the harem comes to YOU, not the other way around!" 

Makoto's voice reached a pitch that she thought should be impossible, "I don't want a harem!" 

Completely sitting up on his bed now, waving the letter in her hand mockingly, she said "No? Trying to pick one lucky fella then?" 

"How am I supposed to choose?!" 

"No way you actually are. Pffftt…! You're in some deep shit Makoto!"

"It's not my fault..! I mean...they're all so amazing! Maizono-san and I became good friends right away...and when she told me she remembered me from middle school I was a goner…! 

And then Kirigiri-san trusts me - ME Komaru! - to help her on investigations. And- and sometimes she gets this adorable pout when I spend time with other friends for too long. And when she smiles at me...it's so rare but she has the prettiest smile...anyone would be lucky to have her! 

And oh no, Togami-kun. He seems almost like he hates hanging out with me, but then he gets upset when I seem disinterested. He tells me all these personal details about his life as if he wants me to be closer to him. How can I not look into that! 

All these people are messing with my head!" 

"Woah woah lover boy calm down!" 

Makoto panted, having to catch his breath after blurting out such a very personal speech about his feelings. Realizing just how embarrassing that entire thing was, he zippered his hood up all the way so that Komaru had no chance of seeing his embarrassment. He dropped himself back down so that he was sitting on the floor, reflecting on all the actions and words he picked to get him in this situation. Maybe if he just sat quietly he would actually disappear.

"Aren't you the older one here?" 

"Shut up…" 

"You always did have a soft heart, you fell for Maizono-san just from talking to her once! And now you've got all these guys to worry about" 

"I don't know what to do…" Makoto mumbled, "I'm lucky enough to be friends with them." 

"You really like all of them, huh?"

Makoto nodded, unzipping his hoodie just a smidge, enough so that his eye peeked out, "every chance I get to spend time with them feels really special"

Komaru, still sitting down on Makoto's bed, leaned her head back against the back wall. A much softer smile graced her face, it was a small little thing but Makoto understood the meaning. Komaru thumbled the envelope in her hands, then placed it by her side. 

"You're just...you're kinda amazing, Makoto." 

"Huh?" Makoto didn't understand that at all, he wasn't anything special at all! He only got lucky, otherwise he was the most average guy in Japan. He unzipped his hoodie all the way, embarrassment forgotten in his confusion.

"I mean look at you!" She lifted her head back up, gesturing wildly to all of Makoto, "you're out there, making friends with the most amazing people in the world just by being yourself! I mean...what is up with that?!"

Makoto smiled, "They are the most amazing people, huh?" 

"You've always been pretty good at making friends-" 

"So are you though!" 

"-but I never thought you'd be this good! You're going places! You're making connections!" Her excitement and gestures began to slowly lose steam as she spoke. Her movements more sluggish and heavy, her smile going away. 

"And I'm still gonna be here. Just a normal girl." 

Well...that made sense. Makoto felt exactly the same. He and his sister may be rather different, but they were also incredibly similar. They were both optimistic, friendly, they both saw the good in a lot of people, but they also both felt like they were painfully average. Makoto lifted himself off the ground and joined Komaru on the bed, sitting next to her. He knew that just telling her she was special wouldn't help much, he'd experienced people telling him that over and over and he still felt like he cheated his way into being "special".  

After a pause, Makoto said, "you know...I know a few Ultimates I think you'd make good friends with…" 

Komaru looked up at that, "Wait, really?" 

"Yeah! You'd get along great with Maizono-san, Enoshima-san-" 

Komaru gasped, "Enoshima? Like Enoshima Junko?" 

"Uh, yeah!" 

"She's a total BABE Makoto where's her letter!" 

Makoto laughed, she sure cheered up fast, "Maybe you can write it after you talk to her for a bit." 

"You really think she'd talk to me? I'm not an Ultimate." 

"Sure! If she can talk to me, she'll get along just fine with you! Ah but...careful...she can be kind of intense on pranks…"

"She sounds great!"

"And that's not all! There's also people you already know! You've read Yamada-san's fan books and one of Fukawa-san's novels!" 

"You know them?!" 

"You don't need to be in Hope's Peak and you don't need to be special to go places, I think you're fine as you are!"

Komaru's shoulders lifted and she curled in on herself, a genuine grateful look on her face, "thanks Makoto...you're a good brother" 

"Any time, Komaru." He smiled sweetly, "now give me my letter back." 

[shijas]

hi chel! i hope this is ok to ask but if it isnt, you dont have to answer. lately, ive been struggling with my writing. i do still enjoy writing, but i find myself doubting myself more often. i sometimes wonder if what im writing is realistic to how the characters would act, or if my writing is embarrassing. i started posting my works on ao 3 more recently and... while my writing gets a somewhat decent? amount of attention, ill see other works with a lot of engagement and wonder if im doing

heyy nonny! ofc this was okay to ask!! firstly, i totally feel you. it’s completely natural to have moments when you’re unsure and dissatisfied with your writing. if you still enjoy the process of writing, then that’s great! i want to make it clear that your feelings may linger but they will pass!!

i talked about this in an ask on my writing blog once but my three biggest writing tips are: “a first draft is a first draft”, “if you’re writing is indulging you then it’s met your target audience” and “as long as your characterisation is consistent to how you feel about the character everything is fine”.

i think, especially, when you’re writing fanfiction that these are things that you keep in mind! when characterising characters, i can’t personally tell you whether how you feel and thus write about them is ‘correct’ or not! no one can, because the lens of which you read and write them is dependent on your whole life worth of experiences!! and this is fine!! you don’t have to write characters exactly as they are in canon, and in all honestly no one truly expects you too. people read fanfiction because they want other interpretations of a story/characters that they love!! as long your characterisation is consistent to you, rather than realistic to someone else’s standards i think you’ll be okay!

now, posting on ao3 is always a double edged sword, and once again, i totally get where you’re coming from. i think everyone who posts semi frequently has a work that they love, which gets barely any attention, and other works that maybe are more of a joke or a quick thing that do surprisingly well. sadly, you can’t force readers or engagement, you can only put your stuff out and hope. if your numbers seem small and the engagement does seem low in comparison to other people, this doesn’t necessarily mean you’re doing something wrong and as hard as that is to internalise or believe, please trust me on this!! i’ve read many a fic with barely any interaction and they’ve been brilliant, likewise i’ve read a lot of fic with a whole bunch of engagement that i personally didn’t enjoy.

a quick initial solution that helped me when seeing numbers really started to bog me down was using the site skin that removed all statistics from every work, my own included. this meant that i could still read fics, but i wouldn’t see anyones numbers, and it also meant when i went on my own page i was forced to look at my works for what they’re about rather than how “well or not” they did by numbers.

another thing that really helped me was advice from a tiktok i can’t currently find which basically said: “30, 60, 100 views might not seem like a lot on the internet, but imagine if that many people walked into your room and saw what you’ve created. they chose to come and see what you’ve created. 15, 40, 60 likes may not feel like a lot but imagine if that many people who had walked into your room to see what you’ve created and told you they liked your work. it would be pretty overwhelming.” i think there’s a really important message in that tiktok. every view, every kudo, comment and bookmark — even if it’s few — is an individual who chose to take a look at your work! they wanted to read it! some of them felt brave enough to kudo and tell you they enjoyed it! some of them were even braver and left a comment saying what they enjoyed! sure, it can feel underwhelming in comparison, but people are engaging, people do care and like your work!

the only person your writing has to be ‘good enough’ for is yourself! and if you enjoyed writing it then external numbers are just a bonus, no matter how big or small!! dissatisfaction is natural and expected from time to time, like i said earlier it will pass. sometimes it’s even a good thing, because if you finish something but feel dissatisfied, that might motivate you to write another draft, or redo a section or take a section out or add a section in! as long as this process is because you want to and it’ll make you happier with your work that’s good. if it’s draining it might be a hint that you should take a break from that project and try something else that you enjoy. you can always comeback. and on that note your ao3 and the fics you post there are not set in stone. if one day you decide you want to revamp a fic, do it! that’s allowed! it’s not a printed published fic! just hit that edit button and change at your hearts content. no one will mind! if anything those few people who might love you fic may be super happy that when they reread it, there’s something new or things have changed a bit!!

i’m really lucky that i have a friend that is not only is doing an english degree but writes fanfic herself, and other friends who frequently read fics and hc stuff over shared fandoms, so there’s always someone there to read my stuff — if you’ve got irl friends that are in your fandom spaces that you trust, i say subject yourself to the mortifying ordeal of being known and talk to them about it!! writing fics in isolation can be pretty hard!! online, i think if you’ve got the nerves to handle it (i do not OTL), twitter is a great place to interact with other writers!! my tips are maybe follow some of your fave writers and try and strike up a conversation?? be wary of the numbers again on twitter!!! similarly, if you do have a tumblr, talk to some of your favourite writers on here, and follow some writing/ao3 based blogs to see whose in the community! apparently there’s even discords for writers these days, so if you’re up to it that’s a great shout. if we’re in overlapping fandoms i love hearing people’s hcs so you can always throw them at me here or on my writing blog!!

i’m sorry that my reply got so long!! i hope that in some way it helps you even a little!! i’m sure you’re writing is pretty amazing and that it’s only going to get better the more you read and write!! have a great day nonny, and good luck, you can push through this!! 💗

[snowmanmelting]

Stylish

Sophisticated and alluring.

Those were the first two words that immediately came to Anna’s head when she had to describe the blonde.

Tall, sophisticated, and so very alluring. It was magnetic, in a sense. Anna could be in a place full of people, doing a hundred different things and her eyes would still wander in Elsa’s direction from time to time, fully aware of her presence.

“Ok, but what is the real point of this jacket?” Elsa looked at her reflection on the mirror, strategically set of one of the store columns, her monochromatic blazer set aside for the moment. “The raincoat feature gets completely lost when this only reaches the waist.”

Anna, who just noticed she’d been staring for maybe more than necessary, only shrugged in response. She got behind Elsa, standing on her tiptoes to look like she was the taller one for once. Truth to be told, Anna was only half a head shorter than Elsa, but Elsa was the type of person that looked taller, somehow.

“It’s a matter of posture”, she’d say, but sometimes Anna just liked to tease with heights.

“Wait, lemme just--” Both of them watched her reflection gently tugging at the jacket from the shoulders, revealing Elsa’s spaghetti straps from her sky-blue tank top, and her collarbone that Anna swore sometimes looked like marble. Off shoulder, that was how the model in the promo pictures wore it. “There, that fits you better.”

Elsa’s reflection raised a very skeptical eyebrow. 

Anna rolled her eyes.

“It’s silly fashion! It doesn’t have to be practical. And, you know, it’s good to get out of the comfort zone every now and then!” 

“Is that why you’re wearing that ridiculous coat?”

“Exactly! Now I’m a pretentious old lady.” She stood to the side and struck a pose, raising her shoulders halfway up to her neck, between long faux fur and red and black stripes. “Now get me your strongest perfume at the cheapest price while I complain about the lazy youth,” she said in an exaggerated accent, pursing her lips.

Elsa held a hand to her mouth to her hide her laugh. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”  

“Not when she comes so often to the store, nu-uh.” Anna crossed her arms and closed her eyes with a childish pout. “Last time I ended up pretending I was busy not to assist that woman. I swear she enjoys pushing my buttons.”

"You're incorrigible sometimes." 

"You love me anyway," said Anna, with a shrug of her shoulders that seemed bigger than it was because of the oversized coat she was wearing. But it drove the point home, and they were just playing around. Elsa had always lent an ear and a sympathetic smile every time Anna complained about rude customers. And a sandwich. Those were important, too.

Playing or not, Elsa's eyes lingered on her for more than usual conversational timing, as if her barely concealed smile could also hide that little spark on icy blue eyes tracing all over her with unspoken affection. It made Anna's stomach flip on itself and burst into butterflies as if she was a teenager all over again. 

Elsa's smile turned into a full one, and she looked sideways with a little bit of embarrassment when she realized what she was doing.

"Touché."

+++++

This lil ficlet has been sitting halfway done in my drafts since march, after spending five consecutive days obsessively reading (unrelated) Elsanna fanfics and, shit-- I don't even ship them ship them, but they make a great duo and it never crossed my mind to think that there was gonna be such huge amount of fanfics lmao. So, I just had to write these two gays trying on jackets at Falabella with Loona playing in the background lol.

I wanted to make it at least 1k, but I’m outta ideas (I accept suggestions if you happen to have any!), and since my usual deal is Hurt/comfort, I just wanted to prove myself that I could write normal-ish fluffy-ish stuff.To me this is a nice change of peace! So woo /0/!

[moxfirefly]

The spank bank

—————————————–————

“This report isn’t going to write itself” You were on your fourth cup of coffee by now. “And this is very important for today’s mission” You twisted your neck the infernal pops making a chorus. Hellboy walked closer to the bed that you’d turn into your mini office.

The hotel room felt more like a cheap hostel but at least it had running water and a heater. “I get it but you need to rest too” He’d gently pried the thermos of coffee and set it on the floor. “You’re a great agent, you’re smart babe and these reports will write themselves tomorrow when you’ve gotten a proper amount of rest” He gently set the laptop on the duvet and pulled you up by the hand.

Your work could be high key stressful at times. You’d catalogue information about monsters and magic. At this rate you could write a How To Kill manual for future new angsts at the B.P.R.D with the information you’d detailed from Hellboy’s mission.

But this wasn’t investigator, kickass and take names HB. This was big, soft and worried boyfriend HB. Getting through him was worse.

“I do suppose I could shower, maybe sneak out and get us some grub” You stressed features soften when he smiled. “Atta girl, sounds good” He gave you a soft kiss before handing you a clean towel.

Yes, a nice steamy shower was starting to sound so appealing.

HB kicked off his boots, stripped out of most his garments only remaining in his black pants. He’d gently tested the bed and happily laid down when it managed to support his big frame. He peeped a look at the report. Y/n had a way of detailing every monster or metaphysical being he’d encountered. Strengths, weaknesses, optimal methods to fight against it, regions to find it, you name it she had it there. Having such a nerdy girlfriend excited him, she was truly something.

His eyes drifted to the many tabs she had opened. Websites on local myths and legends. The regions folklore. A local forum that discussed sightings. YouTube with footage of the beast they’d been chasing. One tab caught his eye though.

HB looked to the bathroom door, water running. He carefully clicked on the tab and his eyes went wide. It was a site for erotic literature and not just whichever but one he’d visited on quite the ocasiones when videos weren’t doing it for him. He grinned reading a very obscene scene. Y/n had an excellent taste, Hell she was a fan of the author he enjoyed quite a lot on the site.

He kept reading, whistling when things took an even sexier turn but frowned when the text was cut off mid moment. Why would this author post an unfinished piece? They very diligent in their uploads.

Then he put it together.

Then he proceeded to have a moment.

His eyes scanned the login box and it was filled with the username of his fave author. This wasn’t a posted piece, this was being written currently since he noticed it was on the drafts section.

“No. Fucking. Way.” He mouthed looking from the laptop to the bathroom. Y/n was his favorite smut writer?! His own girlfriend was the supplier of some of the best smut he’d ever read? How many times had he rubbed one out to her stories?

He was caught between wanting to fanboy but feeling that he’d snooped too much. This story was turning out so good though, Hellboy re-read the small portion again and bit his lip. This could be her best work yet. Caught up in this discovery he’d neglected to hear the water shut down and the door open.

“What are you doing?” Came your voice as you looked from him to the laptop.

You’d forgotten to close a particular tab and he was on that very tab.

If Hellboy could blush he was right now.

“Uhh...ok it’s not what it looks like” he moved away from the laptop as you got closer. “Oh my god! Were you snooping?!” You shut the laptop and gave him a serious look. “I was reading the report and well...I saw that you were on the site I visit and..” He made a vague motion with his left hand. “Wait...you’re on Literotica?” This already has you a red faced mess. “Yeah, I like reading porn like any other person” He shrugged matter of fact. “I’m not judging you for that but you shouldn’t have done that. This is my private little thing, a hobby” You ran a hand through your still damp hair. “Y/n Im sorry for real but...when were you going to tell me you were my favorite author on there?”

Caught up in the embarrassment, upon hearing his words you almost gave yourself whiplash when you looked at him. “I’m your what?” You asked and Hellboy nodded. “My favorite writer babe, like I’ve read all of them. You provided quite the company on a lonely night” He smirked and laughed when you covered your face. “You have to be kidding me” You felt him gently pry your hands away and he had the biggest goofiest smile.

“Number 1 fan here, can I get an autograph?” You smacked him playfully laughing about this whole ordeal. “I can’t believe you’ve spanked it to my stuff, I’m very weirdly proud” You shook your head, cheeks still hot. “They were you describe some stuff, damn woman it could get a nun hot and bothered” You both shared a big laugh.

“So...” Hellboy began.

“So what?” You asked.

“Are they fucking on the balcony? Cause that new piece sounds really hot” He scooted closer to you, tail wagging a little too excitedly.

“Well...um” You grabbed the laptop and opened it up slowly. “I’ve got some ideas...maybe I can bounce them off of you?” You spoke softly, clicking on the keyboard. “I’m gonna fanboy hard just fair warning” He gave your shoulder a kiss as he looked towards your story notes. “I’m liking the praise not gonna lie” This was going to be a long night.

The reports though, could wait.

[tacitwhisky]

Sansa Stone: Story Autopsy

Photo Credit: Sophie Starke

Sansa Stone is a little unusual as a story as I had the whole thing outlined, and even released the outline, before I started writing it. As such I thought it would be fun to go through the original outline and look out how and why it changed in the actual writing. I love reading this kind of thing when other writers do it, and there’s nothing writers like more than talking about themselves. It also just helps me think through my decisions and hopefully become a better writer.

Note that this will only really make sense if you've already read the story. Which you really should, I'm quite good at writing. You can also find the original outline I released and will be quoting here. The original prompt was:

Sansa really is born as petyr baelish’s bastard, who he persuades Robert to legitimize and raises from a toddler as his heir. Sansa somehow meets Jon and falls like an avalanche. bonus points if she gets daddy to help her marry jon.

The idea of Sansa as Petyr’s true bastard immediately clicked with me and got me thinking how it would’ve shaped Sansa: in canon she’s at the top of the social ladder and by the time she becomes Alayne her personality is already set. How does it change if she’s been shaped since she was a child with the stigma attached to bastards in westeros? That ended up being such an interesting idea to me that I kind of forgot the part about Robert legitimizing her. That’s kind of how prompts and ideas work sometimes; you pursue the parts that speak to you and discard the parts that don’t.

In canon Petyr actually did have a bastard with Lysa Tully, but it was aborted by her father. For this AU let’s assume that child wasn’t aborted and Petyr took her after she was born, though no one but him and Lysa know her true parentage. It explains why this Sansa has red hair and the Tully look. He names her Sansa after one of Catelyn’s favorite songs because he is a massive creep, and also Stone because he says she was born in the Vale (but mostly because to me Sansa Stone sounds a lot better than Sansa Rivers).

This seemed like a really tidy and neat way of making the premise work, and also opens up all kinds of interesting plot opportunities. Now, in an outline its relatively fine to frontload all this exposition, but in the actual story itself, putting it at the beginning obviously doesn’t work. At first I tried to move the reveal to the middle of the feast (the section where Sansa kind of zones out before she starts drinking), but it didn’t really work there, and eventually got moved to the end of the chapter.

Partly this is because reveals like that add narrative momentum and escalation, but mainly the move was just logistical: Sansa’s true birth is too much information to unload on the reader all at once. Because I decided to start the story when Sansa first meets Jon (I’ll go into that in a moment), there’s already a huge amount of world building and exposition that has to fit cleanly and organically into a very small space: who Jon is, what Sansa thinks of him, the physical setting, the rest of Sansa’s backstory.

To slap on top of that all of the backstory of her being a secret cousin to the Starks is a lot, and it just hurt the flow of the chapter, and story, as a whole. Putting that material at the end of the first chapter also just gives it a lot more space to breath and be explored.

(I actually considered just cutting that entire part of Sansa’s backstory because it would slim down the story and doesn’t really add anything on a plot level, but ultimately it felt too important to her character’s interiority to cut)

Sansa Stone spends the first five or so years of her life being raised in Petyr’s old home, with him visiting her sporadically. When she’s six he takes her back to Kingslanding with him and quickly begins teaching her how to navigate court life. Dearly she’s always loved songs and ladies and kings and queens, but now that she’s at court Sansa finds the reality different to what she thought. As a bastard she can only ever be on the fringes of all she’s ever wanted.

She clings to her courtesies and ladylike behavior (sewing, singing, etc) because on some level she believes that if she can excel at those maybe, just maybe, they can make up for her bastard birth. Her sexuality is also something she’s much more aware of then in canon; as a girl thought to be base by nature men feel comfortable leering at, even knights and lords she thought noble. It disillusions her and makes her think of herself as dirty or tainted somehow. Not that she shows it beneath her smiles and courtesies.

Keeping all of the core Sansa things (ladylike aspirations, love of songs, idealism) but changing the context fundamentally changes in a lot of ways her reasons for doing them, and that’s such a fascinating idea and character to explore to me.

There’s a world where I write Sansa’s childhood and upbringing in Kingslanding in a kind of lyrical, lilting passage of time chapter before the rest of the story. And while I love writing that kind of thing, for this story it felt like an unnecessary approach. I’m a big proponent of starting stories as close to the middle as possible, and the ‘scenes’ of this story really start at the next part when Sansa actually arrives at Winterfell, so it made the most sense to start there. Considering most of the above material got folded into the first chapter pretty easily and cleanly, I think it was the right decision.

Sansa meets Jon when she journeys north with the king’s procession when Robert goes to ask Ned to be Hand. There in Winterfell she meets Jon sitting exiled at the low table during the feast. She approaches Ghost, and Ghost lets her scratch him behind the ears, which surprises Jon. She asks about Ghost and they talk, bastard to bastard, connecting despite their differences in temperament. He tells her his plan to go to the Wall. The black knights of the Wall, she tells him she remembers them called. A noble cause. 

I did a thing here that’s fine when first writing an outline (when all that’s important is getting the idea no matter how rough on the page), but is a bad habit of mine and is a pain if I don’t fix it in a second draft. And that thing is that I tend to skip over specifics in outlines.

I want to stress that this is fine to do in a first outline. Really. But when you go to expand it in prose it causes problems. ‘They connect despite their differences in temperament’ seems fine, but what are the actual words involved in illustrating it? In turning it into actual dialogue? Being vague and skipping over that stuff has become the bane of my existence with outlines. To combat it I often go through an outline and highlight the points where I skipped over details to force myself to try and fill them out before starting on the actual prose.

So, for example, in my first outline I wrote after the above:

Sansa witnesses Jon’s conversation with Benjen and him storming out of the hall.

And in my second draft of the outline I expanded it to:

Benjen straddles the bench on the other side of Jon. My lady, Benjen greets her with a tilt of his head. He grins at Jon. I’d know idea you kept such beautiful company. Jon flushes and mumbles something. Sansa understands. She’s well used to being a bastard, to be considered base, to be flirting with a man simply by sitting next to him. She answers Benjen’s compliment with a smile though, tells him that Jon has been most kind to let her sit next to him. She’s only a simple southern girl, after all, and unused to the north.

This is more fleshed out, and gives me more hooks to lay the prose and dialogue on when it comes to write the scene. One thing I wanted to emphasize is just how constantly aware of her social position and image Sansa is, that she knows she’s a sexualized object.

This is also a good example of how something can say ok in an outline, and then not work when you go to write it. Having Jon be embarrassed by Sansa seemed ok when I was outlining it: he’s drunk and easily embarrassed to begin with, and it’s a very human reaction. When I actually wrote it out though, it mostly just came off like Jon being a dick. And it also just didn’t feel like it fit his character. Right from the first chapter of A Game of Thrones he appears in he’s someone who’s willing to sacrifice having a direwolf of his own so that his brothers and sisters can have theirs.

Once I changed it I realized (though I really should’ve before) how important it is to the entire chapter and story that Jon stand up for Sansa here, how it’s part of his strength of character that Sansa is attracted to, the boy who really tries to live up to the songs.

She witnesses his conversation with Benjen and him storming out of the hall. Maybe she follows him and comforts him after, or maybe just watches from the benches. Either way, in the dark scheming Petyr part of herself she doesn’t like to acknowledge, a plan starts to form in Sansa’s mind. For years Petyr has petitioned Robert to legitimize her, but always been rebuffed. But Jon’s father will be Hand soon, and he could legitimize her. She could charm Jon, Petyr has taught her how to use her sweet smile that way, and have him lobby his father to legitimize her.

One of my all time favorite conflicts for a character to have is between doing what they know is right on the one hand, and what their desperate and selfish want on the other. It’s such a lovely source of angst and also a really legitimate conflict we all go through in life. Hopefully if I’ve done my job right as a writer, the audience feels just how desperately Sansa no longer wants to be a bastard.

Through Jon she could finally be a bastard no longer, but that would require manipulating him not to go to the Wall, and the only way to do it would be to seduce him, bed him; he would marry her for honor after that, she knows, a son of Lord Stark could do no less and Jon has vowed to father no bastards. But too, it wouldn’t be right.

I ended up deciding to move this specific thing, baby trapping Jon, to later in the story for escalation and because it just felt sort of abrupt and out of left field this early on. It’s another example of how tone and pacing in an outline can get kind of wonky and not work when it’s dramatized in prose.

Separately, I’m not entirely happy with how the last third of this chapter turned out after Benjen leaves. Generally it’s bad writing to have a character simply sit around and think about things; which is what Sansa does here for nearly a thousand words. In the case of this story I think it works because of how well the scene otherwise plays out and where the reader’s interest lies, but I’m not sure I could get away with it in an original story where the reader wasn’t already so invested in Sansa. It’s an example of how writing original fiction and fanfiction can be very different.

In the following days Sansa meets with Jon and spends time with him, tries to shove down and not listen to the whispers of Petyr’s voice that tell her she could entrance him easily, so easily. She finds herself drawn to Jon in a way none of the squires at court have ever interested her, something intriguing in his dark eyes and long face. It’s strange, makes her feel naked to be the one that wants instead of being wanted.

This is the part of the story that got expanded the most. What’s a paragraph here ends up being a full chapter. I originally wanted to keep it just in lyrical montage, but that’s always my instinct and not always what’s best for the story. There’s still a little of that summarizing in the middle of the released chapter, but it’s bookended by two solid scenes.

I’m going to quote from the completed version of the fic for a bit because otherwise this turns into just a wall of text. I’ll let you know when we get back to the original outline.

“I’m not a lady. Not yet.” Arya scrunches her nose, but seems to suddenly remember her own courtesies, and gives a grudging curtesy back. She eyes Sansa curiously. “Why don’t you have to do needlework?”

I originally wasn’t going to have Arya show up in the scene where Sansa and Jon watch the boys sparring in the yard, but the Stark girls are simply too great a dynamic not to explore at least a little, especially with how it would change with Sansa as a bastard.

Now, I did want to avoid the trope fic writers tend to fall into when they write divergent fic like this where the characters are all chummy and the conflicts in canon are ironed out just because one character was raised different. It always feels like wish fulfillment to me and like the character conflicts in canon are some puzzlebox to be fixed.

And ultimately it felt right to me that Sansa and Arya even in this universe wouldn’t get along that well. In all likelihood they would probably actually get along worse since they don’t have that sister bond under their disagreements: though their relationship might be interesting to explore how it grows once they’re both in the Red Keep.

(I also just find it endlessly hilarious that Sansa thinks that she and Arya would closer if they were raised together. You sweet summer child, you.)

Another route I thought about going down is having Sansa be resentful of Arya: after all Arya has everything she’s ever wanted and more or less just spits on it. I read an excellent meta once talking about how in canon that’s why Jeyne is so mean to Arya. Despite being better at feminine pursuits and closer with Sansa, because of her birth she’ll never be as good as Arya.

I ultimately didn’t go down this route just because it didn’t feel right: it makes Sansa a less likable character, and this Sansa is still a very kind character who doesn’t even know Arya well enough to warrant that kind of bitterness. It also undercuts the longing Sansa has in this world for siblings or family of some kind beside Petyr who is a creep.

Sansa grins back and combs back her hair from a gust of wind, looks out at the rolling and empty hills around them. There is a bleak beauty to them and the blue-grey sky and chill wind, and despite how different it is from Kingslanding Sansa feels a desperate yearning inside her to never leave, feels as though she could spend all her life here and be happy.

I liked the concept of Sansa in this world feeling out of place, there being some kind of echo of canon in her situation, an itch she can’t quite scratch. It’s also an interesting contrast to canon where Sansa is perfectly happy to go south and is coded more with southern courtly culture than the north initially. In this verse she’s already been disabused of her view of songs and chivalry and just like Jon has a deep yearning for belonging. Home for a bastard is a fickle thing, and really a metaphor for the way they’re inherently destabilizing to the westerosi social hierarchy and can thus never fit into it. It’s something I explore a lot in my Jon of the Kingsguard fic too.

Jon bursts into laughter, easy and warm, and Sansa has the sudden and reckless urge to lean across the gap between their horses and taste it, press her lips to his and find out if it’s as warm and free as it sounds. Squire after squire, knight after knight, lord after lord of the Red Keep has flirted and courted and wanted her. Comely and ugly, fair and dark, bold and shy, laughing and serious: all had wanted her and none had ever made her feel like this, flushed and breathless and skin tingling with each brush of the wind. The feeling is strange, uncomfortable, and Sansa looks out to the hills around them, longing for something she doesn’t understand blooming painfully beneath her breastbone.

I played around a lot in this scene with how much Sansa should realize her attraction to Jon. It’s such an interesting idea to me that Sansa is perfectly fluent in one half of attraction but not the other: she knows with exhausting detail what it’s like to have men be attracted to her, but has never really felt much of an attraction to anyone to the point where she probably doesn’t even realize that’s supposed to be a part of love.

After all, in a lot of those chivalric songs they talk a lot about the knights love for the maiden, but kind of skip over her interest in him (this attitude is still really, really common in our media nowadays). It’s part of the way chivalry in westeros makes women into objects. Wanting and hunger on the part of the woman is destabilizing because it isn’t under male control, and thus is gross and wanton and penalized.

“Winterfell.” The word is sad and hopeful and longing all in one, and something in it clouds Jon’s eyes. He looks down at the reins in his hand. “I dreamed of my father naming me his heir and giving me Winterfell, of becoming it’s lord.” He shakes his head, voice touched with an old and bitter shame. “I would never betray Robb like that. Never. But still I couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like if it was mine. If only we’d born opposite. I know I shouldn’t, that it’s a bastard’s curse to be envious and faithless-”

“It isn’t.” Sansa reaches over and touches Jon’s arm, voice hot. “It isn’t, Jon. We- there’s nothing wrong with wanting. Not for us. We cannot help what we want.”

If there’s a central theme to this story, it’s wanting, and whether it’s right or wrong to want. For both women and bastards it’s wrong to want because it destabilizes the westorosi social contract, and so both Jon and Sansa have internalized a certain amount of self hate for wanting the things they want. And they’re not dumb: they both know that taking the things they want will hurt others, Robb and Jon respectively. And that’s kind of the resolution of the theme by the end of the story: it’s ok to want, but you shouldn’t hurt others to get what you want.

Getting back to the original outline:

After Bran falls Sansa comforts Jon in his grief. I can’t stay at Winterfell, he tells her quietly. She bites her lip, because in that moment she knows he’s teetering, that she has him, that in this moment of weakness she could kiss him and comfort him and let him have her body. She cradles his head and they kiss, and it unlocks something in Sansa, a desperate yearning, an ache to have him inside her. It would be so easy. So easy to tangle her fingers in his shirt and draw him down to his bed.

This mostly stayed the same, just expanded and dramatized. I also punched up why Sansa’s attracted to Jon, not just that he tries to stay true to idealism and songs, but that he doesn’t have the objectified and hyper-sexualized view of her that others do. And as I mentioned above, Sansa doesn’t really understand wanting someone for herself, and thus it’s so much harder for her to control herself.

I should mention that in the abstract this whole element of Sansa’s sexual desire being tied up with moral wrongdoing is kind of super problematic considering how much female sexuality tends to get penalized, but for some reason I feel like in the actual implementation it isn’t too bad? I tried to make it clear here and later that her sexuality and wanting isn’t wrong, just the consequences of it in this specific situation.

But Sansa forces herself to break their kiss, rests her forehead against his and takes a deep breathe. Jon pulls back, an apology already on his tongue, but she shakes her head firmly and smiles at him even as she can feel a hole yawning open in the pit of her gut at the thought of never seeing him again.

One of the hardest things for me to write is a character drawing back from the brink of temptation. They can’t almost do something, and have every reason to do something, and then just not do it. As a writer you have to find some element that sparks them to make the right decision. Here it’s Littlefinger’s creepy inner voice that makes Sansa realize what she’s doing isn’t right and is something she’ll be ashamed of later.

Littlefinger in this story as a whole was a little tricky to write. I wanted it to be clear that there wasn’t any actual sexual abuse between him and Sansa, but I still wanted a certain amount of his creepiness and possessiveness to come through: for example, when I describe in the first chapter his breath rasping her ear or him stroking her cheek.

Even in the completed chapter the, ‘Let him do as he likes with you, take comfort in you, spill his seed in you’ / ‘Let it happen, sweetling. It will be over soon’ she mentally hears him say is pretty rapey language. It’s there to emphasize the control he has over how Sansa views herself, and the ways she’s been shaped to be passive in her sexuality.

The next day the king’s procession makes ready to go south and Sansa slides up on to her horse. Jon rides up to her and despite the sadness in her Sansa offers him good luck on his journey north, tells him he will make a fine knight of the black. Jon looks at her a moment before answering, gaze intent. I’m not going north, he tells her softly, I’m going south to Kingslanding with my father. Sansa’s heart leaps into her throat, and she smiles, not the carefully manicured expression Petyr taught her, but a blinding and uninhibited thing. And together, the two turn their horses south.

This is an example of something that makes sense when you write in an outline, and then you write the thing and it doesn’t quite make sense any more. Once I’d made it such a point that Jon didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to Bran, I couldn’t just have him up and leave at the end of the chapter. Having Jon promise to follow Sansa also leaves the ending a little more bittersweet, which fits the tone better (it also opens up all kinds of sequel plottage if I ever decided to go there).

It’s a bit of a thematic cop-out to have Jon just decide to not go to the Wall: Sansa’s challenge in this fic is to do the right thing despite how she has to sacrifice her happiness for it. For her then to get what she wanted anyway kind of betrays and undermines that theme. But, you know, I’m not Hemingway and I’m not trying to write the next great American novel. I mostly just want my favorite characters to smush faces.

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In all, while I love all my stories, this is one of my favorites so far. There’s so much thematic and character richness to this version of Sansa, and the way she relates to Jon. I have an idea of where it would go if I ever decide to continue and have a few chapters outlined, but there’s a few factors in why I probably won’t write it.

First, I have too many WIPs right now. Second, while I know where this story would go for a few chapters, continuing it past that turns it into a full on series AU and that sounds exhausting. I kind of did that with Jon of the Kingsguard, and even cutting out a bunch of canon elements that turned into fourteen chapters and 50k words. And third, I kind of want to file off the serial numbers and turn this fic into an original story, especially if I’m going to write a novel sized continuation of it anyway.

Basically, the future is a little unclear for this fic, but I do genuinely love it and this version of Jon and Sansa. Hopefully you did to.

(If there’s any specific part of this fic that I didn’t talk about here that you want me to go more in depth with, just hit me with an ask or quote it in the ask box and I’ll expound on it.)