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slixqrta · 1 day ago

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yandere! childhood friend x reader

synopsis: going back to your hometown was something you’ve been planning for a while, to visit a friend for a few days. however, with a snowstorm coming, you learned a new side of an old friend.

TW: 18+ writing, noncon, gn! reader, amab! yandere, forced cheating bc of yandere, self victim blaming, reader is no having a good time.

a/n: sooo this was meant to be released in christmas…however there were some complications at home such as going to the beach with family and a bunch of my father’s friends inside an old house and getting some skin allergies due to the beach. but no worries, because i am back and ready to write more for everyone! enjoy this one my dear readers!

yandere! childhood friend who you almost fail to recognize when visiting your hometown. he is now taller, stronger and definitely more mature compared to the last time you saw him.

long gone was the short boy that often hidden behind your back when bullied. and instead of that voice that always failed when talking to anyone, there is a husky voice that makes you wonder if he forcing it or not.

unlike the old times of using a stool and the ladder to reach for the cookie jar at the highest shelve, pierre just extend his arm to grab it for you. he doesn’t even put try to keep the jar way from your reach, already taking pleasure in seeing how you lack height in comparison to his.

yandere! childhood friend who takes advantage that you are going to stay at the town for a few hours to see his extended family at the house he grew up in.

his parents’ house couldn’t be more full during holidays season. his uncle and aunt are there with their children, a bunch of little rascals that don’t waste time in climbing pierre at first opportunity.

the kids begging their dear old cousin to play a snowball game with them at the backyard and of course, he dragged you in.

you couldn’t believe your eyes in seeing a grown up man actually playing seriously against a bunch of little kids. it’s almost comical seeing scott trying so hard, yet losing the instant when the kids overthrow him with your help.

by a slight moment, he looked defeated. giving a performance worthy of an award as gets up from the snow, seeing how the children continue to play with you.

scott struggles to not imagine a future when seeing you like this, acting so docile and gentle with the hypothetical children you two might have in a future. it’s a cliche, he knows, but he can’t help to imagine it.

yandere! childhood friend who accidentally forget to tell you about the incoming blizzard that is going to hit the town. now, you struck with him inside this whole big house without any contact with the outside world due the electricity being out.

call it bad, but scott is grateful that his extended family are struck in the town’s mall. they will be there for hours and hours until the snow storm ends. which means he will be trapped with you inside home for a long time, just the two of you.

yandere! childhood friend who light up his mother’s aromatic candles to set up a mood. scott’s childhood bedroom—now turned into a guess room has become the perfect place for both of you to spend during the snowstorm.

the little chitchat between you two is something that he missed so much. things could be like this forever, a cozy place to call home as scott becomes the breadwinner of the family and you turns into a stay at house partner with small versions of you running all over the house.

it would be a dream of his to this to happen. but you had to spoil everything with those little words coming from your lips:

��my partner is probably wondering why am i not back home…”

yandere! childhood friend who can’t let you ruin the future he imagined. scott shaped his life around you, to make things easier and better just for you! and you dare to throw everything away for another person? he can’t let you do that.

scott’s room, a place full of memories and sweet dreams that made your childhood a memorable experience. the shelves still carry some of his favorite toys with pictures of the two of you.

a place full of dreams turned into a cage thanks to him, the boy who you believed to be the most precious and trusted person to ever exist.

the boy who made you smile when younger is the same one who is making your body so painful.

“don’t cry, [name], it’s okay…” he whispers, his blue eyes filled with softness. his words were meant to soothe you, to make you feel less scared of him during an act like this. but this isn’t working. “i’m sorry, but there is no other way to make you stay with me.”

you know he isn’t being sincere with you, not when his cock has already made his way inside your entrance.

it’s already so deep. even with the stretch is bearable as he moves inside you, you continue to cry against an old shirt of his that scott forced inside your mouth.

he leans over you, kissing your tears away and then your neck—gently, which only makes you cry harder. his cock hits you again, making you wonder how much energy this man has.

his hips slowly crash into yours as he fucks you slowly and steadily. there are the sounds of a sweet love making, a contrasted to the snowstorm outside.

it’s obvious that scott won’t last long, too entrenched with the moment and too focused on his pleasure alone as he holds your hips closer to his.

“oh-fuck,” he yelled out as his hips buried themselves into you, fully, sketching you once again before spilling himself into you.

his cum deep within your insides. it ruins the remains of the remains of your underwear when some of the fluids escape from the entrance, even though scott hasn’t remove himself from you.

it’s warm and humid—you don’t really know how to explain, but it’s gross and you want it out of you.

you don’t have any strength to fight your way out, not when you are exhausted after fighting him earlier and as result, leaving the room messy as it is now. so, the only option is to plead.

“scott—“

the front door from downstairs opens.

you hear the voices of scott’s younger cousin and his parents coming from downstairs. they are celebrating the fact they arrive just in time to surprise their beloved old son with a gift and they also brought one just for you too.

it’s only then that scott removes himself from you. he stands up, zipping up his pants before spraying one of the colognes from the dresser. there is a big smile on his face, one that you used to love so much before.

you stay on the ground. pondering what will your life be like after this.

there is the relief of him being away from you, to not to feel his intrusion at your entrance that slowly repels the fluids from your insides. however, there is the fear of him.

would your parents believe on you? they often praise the golden boy as if he was their own child, always hoping and trying to hint at the idea of you marrying him when older. you still remind how disappointed they were when seeing you dating another man that wasn’t scott.

would his parents believe on you? there is a problem when hearing their oldest child—the perfection in person has done something unspeakable to another human being. you can already imagine how disgusted and horrified they would look at you, calling you a liar for telling the true.

you know deep down they won’t believe you.

everyone always prefer to stand next to a man who has the perfect smile, a prosperous future with an incoming promotion at his job than a struggling college student who has problems with alcohol and an argument with your boyfriend before returning home for the holidays.

and so, you cry.

the dried tears getting replaced by new ones as you feel scott cleaning the fluids from your thighs with wet handkerchiefs. it’s a humiliating experience having a man violated your trust, but having him clean with a delicate touch you is even worse.

“it’s okay,” his lips turning into a smile as scott forces you to wear his clothes. your ruined underwear and outfit are replaced by an old pair of his pajamas shorts and a big shirt that makes you feel too small for your own good. “everything will be alright, sweetie. for now on, it will be the two of us, okay? and i almost forget, call that stupid man and end that relationship. i don’t want to hear any references about him.”

you can’t say anything.

not when scott drags you downstairs to meet with his family. his little siblings and cousins are happy in seeing you, showing off their newest toys as your mind is too far gone. none of them notice it, they are too innocent to realize that something is wrong with you.

but the adults does. scott’s parents question him about the lack of enthusiasm from your part—they are worried if you are already too tired, yet their worries disappear when their son replies with the magic words.

“they are just too anxious in making our relationship public. nothing to be ashamed, [name] is just thinking too much for their own good.”

his parents' face light up with visible joy. after years of whising to see you and scott as a couple, their long-held wish has finally come reality—or so they think. both of them eagerly spread the news to the others guests, their joy so overwhelming that they don't even notice the silence hanging over you.

you are no longer playing with the childre. instead, you stand near the huge window of the living room, gazing on the snowflakes dfiting softly to the ground outside.

the world feel quieter for a moment, enough to pretend that nothing from before happened, but he arrives. scott steps closer and wraps his arms around you, his touch gentle and steady unlike before.his presences makes you tense, it makes you want to scream for the others about he did to you and yet, you remain in silence.

"i promise, [name]." he leaves a kiss at the back of your neck, making your skin freeze under his touch as he whispers. "i will make you the happiest person in earth as long you listen to me, okay?"

taglist!

-> @kiiyoooo

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spanktony · 2 days ago

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prologue. | WHERE DO YOU SLEEP? — YU JIMIN.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — y/n, a rising music producer, has built her dream career while keeping her personal life under wraps. karina, aespa’s leader, is preparing for a huge comeback with a mini album produced and written by the one and only y/n.

karina knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and she has to nail it. the only problem is, she may be a bit distracted by her producer.

something about their connection feels different—like maybe it's worth the risk of prying eyes. but how much will they give up to chase after what they want?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — none.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲— dude, i've been writing this series like crazy to the point im almost finished. and i HATE the first 3-4 chapters because they're kinda boring bruh. but happy new years guys! enjoy!

taglist — open!

series masterlist. main masterlist. next.

the first few months back in seoul were nice.

actually, more than nice, it was everything you hoped for after being on the road bouncing from city to city.

you had just gotten off a mini u.s. tour, with a big emphasis on mini because it was only around seven cities in total. but even that small stretch was a whirlwind of airport terminals, crowded venues, and late nights in hotel rooms that all started to blend together.

you had missed seoul, specifically your grandmother's house, because that is where most of your childhood memories took place.

born in new york, you were adopted by two of the kindest people you'd ever known. your parents met in the city, fell in love, and decided to start a family through adoption. your mom, who was korean, made sure you spent every summer in seoul with your grandma so you could stay connected to your roots—learning the language and culture firsthand.

it was her way of preserving what mattered, and you were grateful for it. those summers with your grandma was something you'd cling onto till eternity.

your parents did an amazing job of raising you—big props to them.

now, at 22, you were five years into your career in music. producer, singer-songwriter, performer—if it involved music, you were all in.

things had moved fast: two grammys out of the four nominations, three spotify 1 billion streams plaques that all hung proudly in your studio, and countless music festivals under your belt. you had done everything, from coachella to lollapalooza to bonnaroo and a slew of others.

though you were proud of all you'd achieved, the constant performing was beginning to take its toll. you needed a break from the spotlight, from the endless cycle of promotions and tours. you loved the hell out of your fans, but man you were tired.

so, when you told your management you wanted to step back from performing and focus on writing and producing, they were hesitant. they had their plans for you, but they knew better than to argue when you were so adamant. they respected your decision, and now here you were, doing exactly what you wanted. helping others create music, being behind the scenes rather than on stage, where you could breathe easier.

after months of your team sending your demos out to various artists, you finally got a callback from smtown. saying you were nervous was an understatement. the nerves had settled in your chest and stayed there, a heavy weight that didn't want to go away.

you had written this demo with a friend a few months ago, and it was one of your favorites. it was a little different from the usual songs you produced, and it was a risk. but when the call came, your team couldn't have been more supportive. you were excited but terrified at the same time.

that brings you to today, a month later, sitting in the lobby of the smtown building.

your legs bounced uncontrollably as you stared at the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes until the meeting started. you were early—not too early—but the wait was killing you. the lobby was quiet, which was unusual since the building was constantly buzzing with artists coming and going. the company was big on privacy, though. they always tried to make sure no one was photographed, and you respected them for it.

your manager sat beside you, cool as always, one hand scrolling through his phone while the other rested casually on his knee. you had known him since you were 19, fresh to the music scene and pretty much a mess. he was assigned to keep your career on track, and while he took his job seriously, he didn’t have the whole uptight vibe that most other people in the industry did. he was cool, collected, and a little sassy, which you appreciated more than you'd like to admit.

"seriously, can you stop moving so much?" he said, not even looking up from his phone. "you're making me dizzy just watching you."

"i'm just... excited," you mumbled, forcing yourself to sit still. "i can't help it."

he rolled his eyes dramatically and shook his head. "excited? you look like you're about to pass out. you do know that they already liked your song, right? they called us in."

"yeah, i know," you replied, trying to shake the jitters. "but, you know... they could change their minds. or something."

"or something," he mimicked. a glare shot his way, one that he didn't seem to mind at all. he was used to your glares. he had dealt with them for the last three years, after all. "please. just relax, okay? i'm sure it'll go well."

you nodded, taking a deep breath.

glancing down at your phone to see your mom's text, smiling to yourself. she always knows how to make you feel at home, even from halfway across the world.

mom ❤️: tell your dad that he's too old for tiktok. he keeps trying to dance.

you snicker. a response from your father quickly comes, adding another grey bubble to your screen from your family's group chat.

dad 💙: tell your mom to mind her own business and to get off my phone!

you slip your phone back into your pocket as your manager taps your shoulder, his hand lingering on your shoulder before he gestures for you to follow him.

you rise from the seat, following behind him as another figure begins leading him. lots of leading. so many twists and turns. and then an elevator, which the three of you step into, where you immediately blow a quick raspberry, the sound loud and a little childish. the corners of your mouth twitch as you try to stifle a laugh.

you glance up at your manager, who doesn't seem to mind the odd noise at all—he's used to you and your little ways. when you look at the other man, he looks surprised but intrigued. you think he's trying not to laugh as well.

stepping off the elevator and rounding a corner of the building, you pull the brim of your hat down a bit more with your right hand, hoping to cover a little more of your face. it's a nervous habit that's stuck with you since the beginning of your career.

your manager, walking just ahead, casts a quick glance back at you. his expression is neutral, but there's a certain glint in his eyes that tells you he's as excited as you are, if not more. the other man—a member of the smtown staff, you assume—keeps pace, a very fast pace, as he's much taller than either of you.

curse tall people and their long legs.

the three of you finally stop outside a room marked 115.

your manager turns to look at you, a smile on his face.

"this is it," he says. "are you ready?"

silence.

karina's eyes are unfocused, staring after your footsteps that are moving further and further away. it's an early morning, and the group has been called into the company's building for an important meeting revolving around their upcoming comeback. it had been a long couple of months since their last project, and everyone was eager to dive into new material.

the sound of her manager's voice, calling her name, pulls her out of her reverie.

"karina?"

she blinks, her gaze snapping back toward the voice that is holding the boardrooms' main door open, awaiting her entrance. karina blinks a few more times, her eyes refocusing as she shakes off the lingering thoughts of the stranger she had just seen.

she's usually good at recognizing people in this building, but she doesn't know who the person is. the black new york yankees hat was pulled so low over their face that she couldn't make out any features.

"karina," her manager calls again, a little louder.

"yes, sorry, i'm coming."

she steps into the boardroom, a small room with a long, sleek table and a whiteboard at the front of the room. several of her fellow members are already seated at the table, along with their managers and a couple of other staff members.

series masterlist. main masterlist. next.

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zorosangell · 3 days ago

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I’ll request for Cora then! I don’t really know what to request tho 🤔 but I love all your writing so I’m sure I’ll love whatever you write. how about just general headcanons? thank you! ❤️

⛥ﾟ・。corazon general and specific headcanons

synopsis: just some headcanons for the nine-foot tall blonde of my dreams

cw: none

a/n: this was so fun to write! thanks anon for the ask. i think i'm gonna open up my inbox for headcanons on other characters like kid or law or whatever

a/n 2: stay safe and rive carefully y'all. happy new year <3

general headcanons (you both are in a relationship)

— while i've seen others view cora as an overall shy, introverted person, i actually think the opposite, at least in some cases

— granted, he's not shouting from the mountain tops or actively going out of his way to talk to others, he is very extroverted with the people he knows and trusts

— like you, queen <3

— he likes to tell jokes and use his clumsiness to make you laugh, even if it isn't on purpose most of the time

— and when you do, he feels like he's on top of the world

— he's also very protective of you

— certain things in your relationship he likes to take a back seat on, but your safety is not one of them

— he's seen some things, and he'll be damned if something happens to you because of his negligence

— in a crowded room, he'll position himself behind you, acting as a guard dog as he keeps tabs on all possible threats

— in a bar, he'll keep a watchful eye on your drink and make sure an arm is around your waist at all times

— on the sidewalk, he will always, always make sure he's on the street side

— but that ties in with him being a perfect gentleman

— that being said... YOU NEVER HAVE TO PAY FOR ANYTHING

— actually gets offended if you try

— you're his lady; when you're with him, you don't lift a finger

— he may be on a marine's salary but when it comes to you he acts as if he has all the money in the world

— loves to splurge on you

"aw, baby, look! that necklace would look great on you, wouldn't it!"

"cora, honey, it's 90,000 berries... and you just got me a 70,000 berry bracelet last week"

"and?"

— honestly not very opinionated, doesn't really have many preferences when it comes to material things

— often has you order for him at restaurants, or pick out his clothes for the day

— hates arguing and fighting in general (though arguments are few and far between for you both anyway)

— if you don't like kids, that might be a bit of a deal breaker, seeing as law is a large part of his life

— not only that, but if you just are not a kind or decent person, this is not the man for you

— but trust, if you hit it off with law, you will have this man's heart forever (easier said than done tho)

specific headcanon (story-ish i guess)

— for the sake of whatever, let's say you're the nurse of doflamingo's crew (by circumstance, you're still a good person)

— when you first joined, cora was floored by your beauty; like actually, he fell flat on his face when doflamingo introduced you to the crew

— he was baffled that someone like you was a pirate, and even more so when you opened your mouth to reveal that you were incredibly kind and warm hearted

— (he would later learn that you had been blackmailed by his brother into joining the crew—the warlord promised no harm would come to your family if you joined him)

— initially, he was both enamored and suspicious, seeing as only those with cruel intentions joined his brother's crew

— but as time went by, he was quick to learn that it was quite the opposite, and quick to grow a certain fondness for you

— i imagine cora as a slow burner, so of course all of this happens over a decent amount of time

— but within that time you manage to weasel your way into his heart

— being the ship's nurse, you are always tasked with patching him up after his mishaps

— even though you do slip up and let out a chuckle or two, it never comes from a place of malice, unlike the others

— and even still, you scold and warn him about being careful around fires and hot liquids

— though, most of the time, it goes in one ear and out the other

— sometimes he's too preoccupied with your soft hands on him, or your pretty eyes locked with his

— sidebar: he blushes like a school girl because of his fair skin, i'm talking full on tomato

— anyway, it isn't long before you two become incredibly close

— communicating is a bit of a hassle given his silence, but he appreciates your constant effort

— he makes a point to keep you as far away from doflamingo as possible, often sending you on "errands" to avoid the two of you from interacting

— and when he can't do that, he floats around, not straying too far away as his brother pulls you aside for a chat or asks you to check a pain on his abdomen (barf)

— that doesn't just apply for his brother, btw

— he does that for everyone on the crew, executive or not

— no one gets you on your own without him knowing about it

— on the outside looking in it might sound stalker-ish, but in his mind he justified it as performing his duty as a marine

— all he was doing was protecting a helpless... sweet-smelling... adorably-laughing... angel-looking... young woman

— but in actuality, he was protecting his dream girl

— his dream girl who absolutely loves kids! (if you don't, then, once again, cora might not be the one for you)

— you always treat baby 5 and buffalo with such kindness, even when they act like little monsters; making sure they take their baths, making sure they eat, giving them their monthly check-ups

— it's one of the many things cora loves about your personality

— as well as nurse, you play the role of nanny to the kids onboard

— and your mothering only expands when law and dellinger join the crew

— fast forward to when cora is about to take law away, he comes to you first, severely surprising you by reciting a passionate dissertation as to why you should join him

— he couldn't imagine leaving you behind in the clutches of his brother; no protection, no one to shield you from the horrors of the family

— so it was only natural that his heart fell to his ass when you declined, but your reasoning was that doflamingo still had your family hostage

— though, on one particular night, when you had happened to walk past the door to his study, you overheard him talking to the other executives about how gullible you were, as he had killed your family years ago

— distraught, you ran away with cora and law that night

— and it was bbq chicken from there...

#zorosangell #one piece #one piece x reader #corazon #rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante #rosinante corazon #corazon x reader

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captain-huggy-bear · 3 hours ago

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In Your Element

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Quinn finally gets an opportunity to each lunch with you at your school, but he arrives a little early and sees a different side to you, when you're absolutely in your element.

Notes: This was a request which I very much enjoyed writing, so thank you:

'For Quinn x teacher reader you could do Quinn going to eat lunch with her at school and getting there early on accident and just admiring her teaching and her getting along with her students and then getting home and just telling her how much he admires her and loves her and wants to marry her'

Not me researching Canadian school grades and ages because it is not the same in the UK (Grade 11 is age 16-17, where as year 11 in the UK is age 15-16 and also the final year of secondary for us)

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

Most days Quinn doesn't get a chance to go and visit you at work and he'd never had the opportunity to sit and eat lunch with you during the school day. After all, you were busy and so was he. You had maybe 40 minutes in a day to sit down and eat, then if he subtracted the time in that 40 minutes you needed to tidy your room, put books out for your next class, write the title on the board, sort your powerpoint out and then pee, plus dealing with any dramas your students brought to your door? Well, you probably had 10 minutes to eat...and he, well, how often was he actually available at that specific time of day? It was like ships in the night sometimes, both having highly busy careers in different ways, but you made it work. Partly by taking any moments that you could find and utilising them, both of you had to learn to be a bit more spontaneous and flexible.

Something that was easier said sometimes than done, but your desire to see each other had a way of making bending easier than breaking. It helped that you'd moved in with him before the season started, so at least he saw you at night and in the early hours of the morning.

Today was different, an odd day where the stars had seemingly aligned. Quinn had a free 2 hours in his day just at the right time for lunch with you and you had a free period after lunch which meant you didn't have to spend all your lunch break sorting stuff out for your next lesson. So, you'd agreed to tell the office he'd be visiting and he agreed to bring your favourite sandwich from your favourite deli along with other goodies for you to snack on.

The problem was Quinn hadn't expected to be 20 minutes early, Vancouver traffic being almost non-existent (which was a rarity) and the deli having absolutely no one inside despite it being lunch time (he briefly considered that the zombie apocalypse might have happened at that point). Being 20 minutes early meant he didn't really have anything to do. At first he assumed he'd have to simply wait in the office, but Maria on reception just gave him his visitors badge and walked him to your classroom, ushering him away from the uncomfortable visitors seats.

Your door is shut to keep the noise of the corridor out of your classroom. From the small window in the door Quinn can see the way your 11th graders sit in various states of focus, you're leant against your desk at the front, hands moving as you talk to them. There's something about how relaxed you are at the front of the classroom, the way you seem to be in your element that hits him. He's never seen you teach a lesson before and it strikes him that it seems right, like it's where you're supposed to be.

Maria knocks on the door and he watches as you pause, telling your students something before setting a timer on the board. Watching for a second to make sure they were all on task before walking to the door and reaching for the handle, your face a picture of surprise at seeing him here early.

"Mr Hughes is here to see you, I thought he could sit in the back or help you with the last little bit of lesson."

"Thank you, Maria I'm sure we'll figure it out." You smile warmly at Maria and it strikes him that you probably know all about her, that you've probably spent time with her at the staff Christmas party and eaten lunch together. It hits him that there are people you see every day that he has no idea about because your worlds simply don't cross that often. You know his team mates but does he really know your colleagues? He suddenly feels very out of place.

"You are early." You give him a look that makes him smile sheepishly at you, raising the bag of sandwiches as if that would solve the problem. Still you let him into your classroom, your students narrowing their eyes at the new face before promptly widening at who just walked into their classroom. Still they don't say anything, like you've taught them better, heads down as they continue writing an answer to the question on the board. A timer ticking down the remaining couple of minutes left.

He drops the bag onto your desk before you point to a spare seat at the back, "You can watch if you want...sorry, it might be boring."

"I don't think anything you could do would be boring." He knows the way he's looking at you is probably a little much for a classroom, he can't help it though. You're so pretty in your teacher clothes, there's a different sort of confidence rolling off you, you own the room and it's attractive, the way you command the room even when you're not overtly doing anything.

A quiet little murmur runs through the class at his statement, a few raised eyebrows and David lets out a little 'ohhhh' that you hush with a sharp look. Even that is hot, the fact a single look from you has a teenage boy shutting up, Quinn's rarely seen you like this, in complete and total control, effortlessly. In your pairing you're usually the one who follows while he leads. He orders your drink at a coffee shop or initiates a kiss, this is a different you.

"Go to your seat, Mr Hughes." The raised eyebrow does it for him as well and he thinks if he had to actually respond he'd have stuttered, instead he choses to follow your directions, trying desperately not to look utterly devoted to you in front of a bunch of teenagers.

He forgot how uncomfortable classroom chairs were, still he uses it as a chance to watch from the back corner. You wander the room, green pen in hand for the remaining time on the timer, writing notes on students' work and giving direction here and there. A few times you give warnings to students who haven't worked hard enough, but there's a general sense that this group of students work for you because they respect you. Even the kids who clearly aren't the most academic seem to try for you.

The timer is blaring when it goes off, some sort of lute sound that you clearly picked because it was mildly medieval and fit the vibe of your history classroom. It's ridiculous but it also describes you perfectly, those elements of quirkiness and fun that fit in even into a classroom where students write paragraphs and complete work. Like you have a balance perfectly set.

"Right, times up, so put your pens down..." You march to the front in quick time, nabbing a flashlight that one of your students was playing with at the front before they could even protest, slipping it into your pocket. It's impressive, the way you seem to have eyes on every corner of the classroom, the way you notice things that Quinn definitely would not have.

The student in question puts his hand up in the air and you call on him as if it was expected, "Yes, Rory?"

"Can I have it back at the end?"

"Yes, Rory, you can have it back at the end." It's interesting, the way that that is enough. That Rory seems to respect that it shouldn't have been out, doesn't try to argue that you shouldn't have taken it, but trusts that he'll get it back enough not to press they issue. Quinn's pretty sure Miller has argued with him more over lesser things before.

"Who can explain to me then how war has had an impact on medical development? Bonus points, potentially getting the bonus point duck for the rest of lesson, if you can give me concrete examples from our unit." He's close to putting his hand up to ask about the bonus point duck when you reach into your desk drawer and pull out a rubber duck dressed as Henry VIII.

It's in that moment that Quinn realises he does not know as much about you as he thought. He knew you. He knew the woman he called his girlfriend who couldn't sleep with her feet outside of the bed covers and absolutely had to have the shower on the highest heat setting, but he didn't know teacher you. Never in his life had you mentioned a bonus point duck, never would he have predicted that that was something you even had in your classroom and it's utterly ridiculous and shouldn't motivate a bunch of teenagers at all and yet, suddenly there were 20 hands in the air, a few calling out as if that would make you pick them quicker.

He watches the way you smile, the scan of your eyes over each, the way you bypass those not meeting your expectations until they correct themselves and then you pick a student that Quinn would likely not have picked, a student he knows his history teacher in school would have avoided.

When he thinks of picking a student to answer there are two modes he thinks of from his own high school career:

The one without their hand up, who doesn't look like their listening, the one a teacher wants to catch out

The student who is clearly a nerd, clearly good at the subject and will clearly given an impressive answer, the easy kid to pick

You pick neither. Instead, you go straight to a girl with her hand up but with thick blonde hair extensions in and enough gum in her mouth that Quinn can hear it smack from here. The stereotypical popular girl who probably doesn't care much about school and would rather be at the mall.

"Angel?"

"Well, it's like when there's a war on like World War One then all the government care about is winning the war, right?"

You nod in encouragement and it hits him that you picked Angel for a reason. That you picked a student who likely doesn't like school, likely gets discouraged but who you know can answer and get a confidence boost. It's smart, he does something similar with rookies, where he gives them a chance to do something so he can boost their confidence, can build a relationship with them. Suddenly captaincy and teaching seem awfully similar, minus the gum and the smell of Lynx Africa.

"So like if they don't improve medicine then all their soldiers just die, right? Either outright or later because of like infection like why they funded Florey and Chain to mass produce penicillin in World War Two or like why people were so into the leg splint thing in 1916. So, the governments put more money into medicine because that means soldiers live longer and can get sent back to war and then they can win the war because they still have men alive, but like if they all die you're going to lose the war, duh."

"Beautiful answer and a few specific examples in there, you have earned the duck," You smile widely at her as you walk to plop the rubber duck on her desk and he can see it, the way she seems to puff up in pride, the way a student who maybe would have hated History is engaged because of you.

He's pretty sure he just fell a little bit more in love with you.

"Yo, Miss?"

You sigh a deep sigh as if this interruption is expected, stopping mid walk back to the front of your classroom and turning on your heel, "Yes, David?" Your voice is mildly amused, not impatient or frustrated like Quinn would expect.

"Why ducks?" There's a beat of silence and Quinn watches the way you just stare at David, eyebrows high on your forehead like your considering whether you'll actually treat the question seriously or not.

Then a big smile crosses your lips like you're laughing at yourself before you even say the punch line to a joke. A silly little smile that is so his girlfriend that suddenly both versions of yourself seem to merge together.

"Because ducks fly together."

"C'mon, Miss! Really? Did you seriously just quote the Mighty Ducks when a hockey legend is in the room?" It's your patience with David that smacks Quinn in the face. You could have given him a detention by now or told him off for disrupting your lesson, but you're not. Like you're confident you can bring it back to the lesson soon enough. It makes him wonder if you'd be that patient with your kids, if he's seeing a little glimpse into a possible future where you're this patient with the kids you have with him.

"Well, maybe we should ask the 'hockey legend' what he thinks of my jokes? Mr Hughes?" You ask him because you know he'll back you up, and it's that sense of being needed that makes him sit up a little straighter in the chair he's in and smile widely like he's scored a goal.

"Hilarious as always, although maybe you need a bonus point orca?"

"Oh, do I? The duck not good enough?" There's a little glint in your eye, the one you always get when you're teasing him, playful. It feels like the rest of the world disappears, falls away, like you're the only two people in the room.

"Seems a little too Anaheim like for my taste,"

"You would say that, no taste." As if you're a Anaheim fan when you are in fact a Canucks fan through and through, but you know the statement will get a little rise out of Quinn. You can see the way his brow twitches at the suggestion that you'd pick the Ducks over the Canucks, the sense of male pride being slighted.

"Miss, stop flirting with Quinn Hughes!" It's David, it's always David. David with a wide grin that shows off his braces, David who's waggling his eyebrows at you, typical teenage boy behaviour really but it stumps you. Quinn can see that it stumps you.

There's a beat of silence, like your brain is trying to process what's just happened, and for the first time you're off your game, flustered, a little taken aback like you didn't expect it to go this far. But, then, Quinn was never in your classroom while you taught, never there for you to banter with in front of students. Quinn had proven to be a distraction, a disruptive presence if you will.

Your choice of tactic is perhaps not the best nor the most smooth, but simply to turn back to your powerpoint plastered on the board and pretend that it simply hadn't happened. To move on.

"Anyway, back to medicine," Your voice is a little unsteady, a little less controlled and Quinn feels slightly bad that he put you off your game, but admires the way you push forward.

You turn the slide on your powerpoint, an old cartoon springing up on the board, "I'm going to give you a copy of this source from 1847 about anaesthetic and I want you to analyse it like we've been practicing. If you can do this properly in 8 minutes then I will let you ask Mr Hughes some questions..." You pause briefly, looking directly at David, "Appropriate questions."

There's a bubble of excitement that sees students volunteering to help you hand out glues and copies of the source before all heads hit the desks, hands moving ferociously across the paper while 8 minutes ticks down on the clock. Just like that you've got them back on track and it is utterly impressive, how you managed to completely save a lesson that he'd accidently ruined for you.

You both survive the few minutes of questions at the end, David only asking a few minorly inappropriate ones which Quinn fields with his usual tactic of say nothing and refuse to answer. By the end he's not entirely sure how you handle being questioned all day by hundreds of teenagers and Quinn's a lot more sympathetic to your reluctance to make decisions when you get home after a long day of teaching. He gets it now.

"Have a good lunch, everybody!" You wave the last of your students off at the door, shutting it the moment they're all out and letting out a massive sigh of relief, shoulders slumping.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired." The unspoken is there. That your job is hardwork, that getting kids in the modern age to focus on anything for more than 60 seconds might look easier to the outsider but takes more brainpower and more routines and techniques than you can shake a stick at.

Quinn decides to leave it for the moment, you probably don't want to spend your entire lunch break talking about teaching and he's ultimately here to see his baby, not talk about education.

"Sit, I got your favourite," He's guiding you gently, hands on your shoulders to your comfy desk chair, the one he hasn't seen you sit down in at all. You let him force you to sit down, let him sort out your sandwich placing it in front of you with a napkin and your favourite packet of crisps with your favourite drink to boot. It's a little thing but the way he sets it out in front of you, the way he takes care of you helps ease a little bit of the strain of the day.

"Thank you for coming and having lunch with me," You reach for half of your sandwich, exactly as you like it down to the type of bread used, watching as Quinn pulls one of the desks closer to you so he's not so far away. His own sandwich being pulled from the brown paper bag.

"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to see my girl, who's looking extra pretty today by the way." You almost choke on the first bite of your sandwich, cheeks warming even as you cough and roll your eyes at him. Feeling decidedly unattractive after nearly choking on bread.

"You are such a suck up!"

"Oh, so I can't compliment my girlfriend now? That's sucking up? I'm just stating facts. The sky is blue, water is clear and my girlfriend is gorgeous."

"Quinn!" You laugh at him and it's the most beautiful thing he's seen all day. The way your face lights up, eyes crinkling as you twist your head away from him because of how ridiculous you think he's being. When you laugh he can't help it, it makes him grin, teeth on show, sandwich half forgotten in front of him.

"And she can't take a compliment to save her life."

The two of you fall into a comfortable sort of routine, taking bites of your lunches while interspersing eating with conversation about his upcoming roadie and what you're going to send to your mum for her birthday.

He doesn't say anything about your teaching, doesn't even bring up the bonus point duck because he doesn't want to take up your few precious non-teacher minutes with it...and also because he's pretty certain 40 minutes is not enough time for all the things he's thinking.

How does one condense down how much they admire their partner? How does he talk briefly about how utterly amazing you are at your job and how he can't wait to marry you, to have kids with you, to see you be just as patient, just as amazing with them? He can't, so he decides to leave it til later.

He doesn't just eat lunch with you before he leaves the school though, Quinn, ever determined to make your life easier helps you tidy up your classroom and fix a display board that you couldn't reach the top corner of. You can't help but admire him as he stretches up up to staple a bit of border roll back in place, the muscles of his back flexing underneath his t-shirt, the way his hair falls effortlessly across his forehead. It's weird seeing him in this environment, your environment but you can't help but think that he fits in it, like it suits him to be helping in a classroom. Maybe in a different life he'd have been a teacher or maybe you were just waxing poetic in your head.

You walk him out to his car once your done, even though you should be using this time to plan, you can't help but try to get as many moments with him as possible, any little bit of time precious.

"I'll see you at home later?" You ask just in case he'd planned something with the team, fingers twined with Quinn's as you stand by his car.

"Yeah, I should be home already when you get in, figured i'd cook dinner tonight." He wants to make it nice for you, special, because he knows you're going to shy away from his compliments, his admiration...but he feels like he has a lot to say. Good stuff, but a lot and he wants you in a good mood, more receptive.

"Mmm, anything good?"

"Your favourite." You think about the spicy noodle dish he's perfected cooking, the little spring onions on top, the warming broth and it makes you feel almost hungry despite having just eaten lunch.

"And what did I do to deserve this treatment?" You tug him closer by the hands, tilting your head back to look up at him with a sweet smile that makes his heart race just a little bit faster. You're so pretty without even trying.

"Just being yourself, baby." Quinn breaches the distance between the two of you, leaning down to close the remaining space, lips pressing to yours gently, once, twice, a third time because he can't help himself, "Have a good rest of your day and I'll see you later, sweetheart"

Quinn presses one more kiss to your lips, a longer one that lingers, a force behind it that almost takes you off guard, your hands reaching up to grip at the edges of his jacket.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath, just long enough for Quinn to notice and smirk about it, to find it cute that he can still make you react like that.

"Bye, I love you." You force yourself to pull away, watching as he steps into the car.

"I love you too." You watch Quinn's car roll out of the school car park, wave back at him when he turns to look at you from the driver's seat before he's completely gone, before heading back instead to finish off your day.

The rest of your day goes relatively smoothly bar the incident in which a student decided to swallow a battery he had in his backpack to see what would happen, resulting in him being taken to hospital and your last class of the day being unable to focus on anything but that. Still as days go it was relatively stress free and made ten times better when you walked into the apartment to the smell of Quinn's world famous spicy noodles and the way he'd set up the dining table with some candles just to make things sweeter. The lights in the apartment dim and romantic feeling.

He's stirring the dish when you get to the kitchen area, back to you, but head turned at the sound of your feet padding towards him. You don't hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek into the centre of his back. Quinn leans back into you with a hum.

"You've really gone all out, huh?" You mumble it into his shirt, moving with him as he takes the pan off the heat and carries it towards the two bowls already laid out on the side. Shuffling alongside him determined to stay close to his warmth despite how inconvenient it was.

"Wanted to surprise you, now get off me and sit your cute ass down." You do as your told, jumping a little at the light swat Quinn gives to your arse as you move away from him. You turn to glare at him as if you're offended even though you both know you'd let him slap your arse whenever he wanted if he just asked.

Quinn serves you first, placing your bowl in front of you with a glass of your favourite thing to drink at dinner before grabbing his own noodles and sitting across from you.

At first it's quiet, the two of you more focused on eating than talking, but every now and then you look up to see Quinn staring at you as if he has something he wants to say. You choose not to rush him, both of you finishing your dinner before you insist that you put the dishes in the dishwasher since he cooked. Still he doesn't say anything and you don't push him.

It's not until he drags you to the couch, pulling you to curl up next to him while some movie plays in the background that he finally speaks his mind.

"You were amazing today..." You're tucked under Quinn's arm, his hand resting on your arm as you press your cheek into his shoulder, soft eyes looking up at him from under your lashes.

"Mm? What at work?"

"Yeah." You let him think for a minute, knowing he has more to say but clearly trying to figure out how he goes about saying it, his fingers tracing light circles on your arm. "I've never seen you like that...so in your element..."

There's a pause in which he shifts, pulling your legs over his lap, other hand gripping your calf. It's the most natural movement in the world, a touch neither of you even think twice about. "The kids love you. You got kids who probably hate school to willing write paragraphs for you and...you're so, so confident in that room, baby..."

"I'm just doing my job..." You hide your face in his shirt for moment, feeling that familiar bashfulness come to the surface. You've never been good at accepting compliments, even from Quinn, and now is no exception even as his words fill you with a giddy kind of happiness.

"I know but...the way you just knew you had it, even when someone was off topic, you knew you could get it back on track, that was so fucking attractive and even the silly things, like the duck!" Your head shoots up so fast at the mention of the duck that you almost knock his chin with the top of your head, the look you give him is nothing short of confused.

"The duck is attractive?"

"Not the duck exactly, but the fact that you wanted to make History fun but also still make sure they're actually learning...and, and it was so you, y'now? So silly but endearing and...I don't know..." Quinn looks away from you, red flush high on his cheeks as he starts to regret ever saying anything, feeling mildly embarrassed about how into you he is. Which he knows is ridiculous because he should be into his girlfriend.

"You don't know? Sounds like you do, you're just embarrassed about how much you love me." You tease him, hand cupping his cheek to get him to face you again, even when he's embarrassed he can't help but lean into your touch a little more, cheek pressed fully into your palm.

"I do love you...watching you teach was like seeing our future."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I thought..." There's that hesitancy again, flush bright on his skin, lip being bitten between his teeth. It's like he's worried he'll mess up if he speaks his mind, which is ridiculous because you love him so much you're not sure anything he could say would change that.

"You can't put me off, Quinn, if you're worried about saying the wrong thing...i'm too in deep to be put off, so, you thought?"

You wait, oh so patient, while he assesses you, judges whether you're telling the truth. Like he needs to double check that you're correct when you say you're in too deep.

"I was just thinking about how you're so patient with your students and how patient you'll be with our kids, y'know?"

"Our kids?" There's a giddy little sensation of butterflies flipping in your stomach, eyes widening in delight at the mention because how many relationships have you had where your exes refused to even consider children, where they didn't want that with you?

"Well, yeah, I'm going to marry you one day." It's so matter of fact as if he'd just said he was going shopping tomorrow or had a game on Saturday. A statement of objective truth as if there was no other option, no other outcome.

"Oh, you are?"

"If you let me. If you don't? I'm never going to marry anyone." You pull back from him, just enough to look at him, mouth slightly dropped open. He's dead serious, lips pursed, brows furrowed.

"Quinn."

"I mean it. I love you, you're so fucking amazing and I...seeing you in your element today made me realise how impossible it would be for me to fall in love with anyone else, to marry anyone else, to have a family with anyone else. I don't want anyone but you."

You let out a shaky breath, smile watery but pleased, full of love and affection.

"I...I guess it's a good thing then that I want to marry you one day. Can't have you dying alone, that would be sad." You're trying to lighten the mood, but the truth is you're so deeply touched, so in love with him that you hope he means it. If he breaks up with you, you're certain it'll break you for good because you were certain he was it for you too.

"Just to be clear this isn't a proposal, you're getting a proper proposal and it will be a surprise."

"You think you're sneaky enough to keep it secret?" Your arms wrap around his neck as the two of you shift, fingers playing with the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

"I think if I want something enough, i'll get it." Quinn's voice lowers in that way that has you raising your brows, cheeks warming as smirks down at you, green eyes peering at you from underneath unfairly long lashes.

"Oh?"

"Oh." You lean back against the couch, lowering yourself flat as Quinn crawls his way over you, arms bracketing your head on the couch beneath you. You reach a hand up to cup his jaw, scruff rough against your palm, the air around you feels charged.

He's the first to move, wasting little time before lowering his lips to yours. A soft press that deepens as your arms drag him closer, fingers curling in his hair tight. You're working on instinct when Quinn's tongue swipes across your bottom lip begging for entry, opening up for him as your legs wrap around his hips.

In that moment you are so very glad that you're never going to have to know what life is like without Quinn Hughes. That you'll always get to revel in the way he presses his whole weight onto you, the way his breath wavers when he pulls back just to catch his breath before diving back into you.

Maybe you're just lucky or maybe fate intervened, but you are so fucking glad you met Quinn Hughes and so fucking glad that he decided a random History teacher was more than enough for him for the rest of his life.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes/reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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maikelfist · 1 day ago

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I had hoped I could avoid getting involved in the discourse that this show seems to attract, but since it came to me I might as well explain myself.

I'm not American. This show isn't a big thing where I'm from and I didn't even know it existed before I learned through tumblr osmosis that a fan-favorite character was made bisexual. At first, I was like, hey nice, but didn't really get involved since I'm not a fan of these types of Grey's Anatomy-esque shows that are endless and written by a revolving door of writers. They're just too all over the place for my taste. But more stuff with Buck and Tommy ended up on my dash which raised my interest a bit.

After decades of experiencing queerbaiting in other shows, Buck's bisexuality feels like a balm on the soul. I'm gonna be very frank here, the resolved queerbaiting is the only reason I'm currently participating in this fandom. It's the first time I've witnessed something like that and I feel like I'm allowed to indulge a little bit. I'm focusing on Tommy because he's the character that made it happen. I woul equally focus on Tommy if he was a man of color. Hell, I'd be even happier about it. I'm using these two to heal my bi little heart. It's pretty unfortunate that a moment that should be joyful and gratifying comes with so much baggage, but that's fandom I guess.

I'm not interested in the rest of this show, not because the other characters are female or POC. The rest of the show just isn't my cup of tea and the fandom as a whole doesn't seem particularly inviting. (When I learned about the whole Tevan vs Buddie war bullshit my first instinct was to read threesome fics with them. Again, I'm here because I'm bi and horny, not because I have deep feelings for this show)

That being said, I very deliberately used the word heartbreaking for Chimney in particular because I know the focus here is on him. Like, I actively made sure to mention him and the mistreatment he faces because I know that outside of fandom and shipping wars, his story is more important. Believe it or not, when it comes to personal experiences I have a lot more similarities with Chimney and Hen than with Tommy. But I have other characters that help me with my wounds regarding sexism and xenophobia. In this fandom, I'm just a temporary visitor leaning my head through the door and saying hi while current events are still fresh.

I couldn't give less of a shit about 9-1-1 discourse. I'm just here to have a good time, not to hurt anyone. But I do find it quite hurtful that sharing a little video about a side character makes a stranger on the internet insinuate that everyone who enjoys said character is racist, sexist and ignorant. I don't have the time to write an essay on major social issues every time I make a silly little tumblr post. Life would be a lot easier for everyone if people would get over the impulse to read everything in bad faith.

PS: From the stuff I watched outside of Buck and Tommy I did come to the conclusion that Athena is bae. Hope that helps.

This scene stood out to me when watching the Tommy episodes. The way Tommy stutters his reply, how intimidated he is by Gerrard (Chimney being mistreated is obviously also heartbreaking). Even before Tommy had a change of heart regarding his behavior, it's clear how uncomfortable he is around Gerrard while still seeking his approval, how he doesn't like being in the boys' club despite trying his best to be a part of it. Tommy wasn't brave enough to stand up to Gerrard for himself, but doing it for Hen likely made up for years of abuse he had to endure

#I assume your problem is with me calling them Tommy episodes?#that's just my ass being literal #as in “the handful of episodes where Tommy is in”#didn't mean to overlook anyone

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wetcatspellcaster · 1 day ago

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2024 fic wrapped

I was tagged by @cursedhaglette to do this tag-game, but I found the focus on stats made me a little uncomfortable! (also, no one needs to know how many words I wrote while having multiple breakdowns last year, truly).

But, I didn't want to ignore Mia's tag! so instead, I'm going to take @cinnamontails-ff wrapped tag-game, just bc I sympathise with the logic and I like this set of questions a lot more!

Thank you Cin for coming up with questions that don't focus so much on productivity. And thank you again, Mia, for including me in the original game :) hopefully this is an acceptable substitute!

What's been your biggest learning point this past year?

I guess, what it feels like to be a 'popular' author - and the answer is, 'both good and bad, in fact, extremely mixed'. Obviously, many parts of it are wonderful: more people interacted with my work in the height of the BG3 fandom than I've ever had before, I felt like my writing mattered and I enjoyed every conversation I had about it. I also felt under a lot more scrutiny, very hyperaware of how I acted in 'public' (ie. on this blog), and aware of the people I'd disappoint with the directions I took my stories and what I chose to include. I also had to watch the baffling half-life of modern fandom! BG3's 6 month peak and 1yr trough was wild to me, as someone who joined dragon age 8yrs after the game was released. But I've decided I actually really like the middle-road of interaction, with much less noise and dedicated, recurring readers who I recognise and who make me smile and laugh every single time they comment or tag my work. I'll probably never experience whatever the fuck Pieces was ever again, and I'm honestly... ok with that, currently? Not to sound awful, but I'm not sure I liked it lmao.

In terms of my writing, my biggest learning point was "you're good at this, actually". Chanting this to myself in the mirror while I white-knuckle the sink.

How has your writing developed this past year?

I'm genuinely not certain. Pieces was certainly my most ambitious story yet, but a lot of the outlining of that took place in 2023 so it feels like the development happened then... though I suppose landing the dismount was something I worked very hard to do. I guess the main development this year was that a lot of what I wrote was extremely, extremely angsty. I wrote Pieces, I wrote This Is Not A Love Story. and I gave Rosalie to Orin :))))) this doesn't necessarily surprise me, given the way my writing often reflects things I'm dealing with in my life, and I've been trying to both recover from - and desparately stave off a relapse into - depression. I think that I can see why I keep making characters into the worst versions of themselves (this goes for Astarion, Rosalie - bc Pieces Rosalie is NOT in a good place, Gale and my Durge) and then watching them claw their way back to happiness in the hope of proving to myself that that's possible.

But jfc, it all got a little heavy. I've decided that 2025 is the Year of the Rom Com™.

Good writing habits?

Committing myself exclusively to what I want to read and sticking to my guns - which means I actually finish the thing, rather than getting into my own head about it.

Stretching my comfort zone a little (writing something vaguely smutty, writing something very different in style, switching genres for a bit) without losing my own voice.

Not falling into any jealousy/existential crises about my own writing, which I guess is much easier when you're experiencing a bout of 'success', but I've managed to keep it up even after the success began tailing off :)

I wrote a lot of words last year. I'm not putting the stat down but god. It was a lot.

Bad writing habits?

Overwriting everything. Everything. All the time. Party Favours was so short!!! I used to write novellas!!! Why are my chapters so fucking long now?????

Having multiple fic wips when I promised myself I'd wind down fanfic and start writing original work again :')

I wrote a lot of words last year. I think I did this bc I was extremely unhappy, and productivity is how I define myself. when I feel bad, I write and post bc it makes me feel good. And I felt very bad this year. So anyway, I think my wordcount is both a good thing and also a wee cry for help :'))))

Favorite thing you wrote?

Chapter Twenty-Three of Pieces (Mephistopheles consultation and my Ascended!Astarion meta-reveal)

Chapter Four of Cooler Than Me (putting the blorbos in a formal-wear situation)

I also liked my sex scene in Pieces :') it was tame but it was written for me specifically x

Favorite reads?

for fic!

long summer days can lead to lazy vices by @pouroverpaloma

eyes like fire by demonsbanebard

only once by @bearhugsandshrugs

and of course stitched into your sleeve by the bestie (@violacae)!!! my first ever gift fic!!!

for literature!

The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door by HG Parry

Long Live Evil by Sarah Rees Brennan

Deeplight by Frances Hardinge

Biggest win?

god. I'm endlessly grateful for my gift fic and for my fanart, but... it's got to be bookbindings. I used to daydream, about somebody ever wanting to have my fic bound, but I thought it was impossible and would never happen! I now know of 3 copies of my work that exist in the world :D and the ones I've seen were fucking gorgeous, like oh my fucking god.

I am also very proud I finished Pieces! It was my most ambitious project, and writing the ending presented even more challenges than I expected - as I discovered how much you write yourself into a corner when you resoul Astarion. I still haven't managed to read the completed work in full yet, but I'm proud it exists :)

Goals for the new year?

finish outstanding wips, and then see where my writing takes me next. I want to write original work, but I also don't want to make it a resolution. As long as I continue to enjoy writing, that's what matters most to me!

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn't repeat them 788 times?

I think I use '[x character] froze' a lot, but rather than focusing on my repetitions I want to focus on some of my favourite turns of phrase that I managed to pull from the ether! :)

'before her brief courtship with death threatened to become a commitment' - from the risk and the reward

'We can all still be butchered. We cut away the parts of ourselves to make us fit' - from this is a love story.

"He played an androgynous, morally-grey vampire, of indeterminate gender! In a nice coat! Anyone who had two working eyes and a relevant Kinsey Score read the porn, back in the day!” - from cooler than me

What are you excited for in the new year?

act 3 astarion characterisation for honest lie! the first big romance moment in cooler than me! and then just romcoms! 2025 is the year of the romcom! I want to write exclusively happy things!!!!

tagging: @cursedhaglette (as it's a different set of questions lmao), @imscissorbladez, @violacae, @eraserspiral, @scaryanneee, @sitting-in-the-sink, @pricemarshfield, @pouroverpaloma and anyone else who wants to give this a whirl. anyone is welcome, and if you tag me in it I'll share x

#tags #tag games #fic wrapped 2024 #my writing

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oh-nostalgiaa · 2 days ago

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thank you to @therebelcaptainnetwork for hosting secret santa again, which is the most wonderful time of the year (and the only time i muster enough energy to write, wah)!

my gift is for the lovely @toooldforthisbutstill, who asked for fluff, snow day/rest day, green/earth tones, or hope. i'm sorry i couldn't manage historical or fantasy, but i hope this small slice of life pleases nonetheless.

you can also find this fic at ao3! without further ado, here is:

you're gonna lead me home

The thing about peacetime is this:

There is no manual. There isn’t a set of instructions to follow in order to live in it to the best of one’s ability - especially if one (or two, in this case) are far more used to (and suited for, all things considered) doing whatever it takes to survive wartime.

You are simply taken from everything you’ve ever known and thrust into an entirely new situation with no guidelines and you are told ‘hey, good luck’.

While Cassian concedes that it’s not entirely true that he and Jyn had been airdropped into the unknown since they had been offered an apartment in glittering Coruscant and declined, but it still feels overwhelming at the best of times. This small, nondescript home on a small, temperate, mid-rim world is theirs to do with as they please.

At first, what they do is take stock of their new surroundings, taking careful note of what needs repairs or upgrades, what they can realistically immediately renovate and what may need to wait. More importantly, they examine every inch of their home and the land that surrounds it and they make intricate plans for how to keep themselves and this place safe.

You can take the soldiers out of the war, after all, but the war never really seems to end.

Cassian used to like to pride himself on how quickly he’s been able to adapt to any number of situations during his years as a spymaster, but another thing he’s learning is that the skills he’s gained from years of doing the hardest work imaginable don’t always translate to his new life.

And learning on the fly isn’t always quite so easy when there’s not the threat of death hanging over his head if he fails. Still, sometimes he thinks that death might be slightly easier to bear than disappointing Jyn.

Okay, so that’s a little dramatic, but not entirely inaccurate.

They have both spent most of their lives never staying anywhere long enough to put down roots. The relationships they have built have been superficial at best, because no matter how much it’s hurt to do it, they knew that disappearing was always what they were best at and what was necessary in order to survive another day. They have kept to the shadows and engaged in distasteful things they’d rather forget because there simply wasn’t any other option at the time. They looked over their shoulders constantly, because they never knew when a blade might be plunged into their back, metaphorically and literally speaking.

And that mindset is perhaps the hardest thing to rid themselves of.

Some days are easier than others. With no strict timetable to follow, new routines must be created, otherwise they both bristle at having so much free time and nothing to fill it.

Cassian finds that he’s rather adept at some of the repairs that need doing - the leak in the water filtration system comes to mind - and what he can’t figure out on his own, the holonet helps him learn. The same with cooking, actually. As it’s turned out, for as capable and dangerous as she can be in other areas, Jyn Erso is a complete disaster behind the stove and doesn’t quite possess the patience to want to learn to be otherwise. So Cassian has shooed her out of the cramped kitchen and taken over the cooking duties. He’s surprised by the natural affinity he seems to have for it and sometimes (when he’s feeling maudlin) wonders if in another life, that’s a path he would have gone down.

Some days, life doesn’t feel quite so difficult to navigate. Some days, he’s almost convinced that they’ll manage just fine.

And then there are the bad days.

There are days when one or the other or both of them revert to a state of readiness (and paranoia) that something’s going to happen if they are not hyperaware of every single thing in their immediate vicinity, every tiny noise more than enough to ramp emotions to the point of no return. And stars help them when they cross that point, because the blowup is not pretty. Neither is the aftermath.

If they’re lucky, the result is simply snapping at each other and then pointedly avoiding the other until their tempers settle. They would never put hands on each other, but when snapping turns to worse - well, they can wound each other terribly using just their words.

Icy little shards of insults that hit their target with startling accuracy every single time.

What’s worse is that neither are accustomed to apologizing, despite knowing when they’re in the wrong or when they’ve taken one step too far.

Sometimes, Cassian chooses to focus on repairs to keep himself busy, and if he feels like a particular argument requires more of a distance between he and Jyn, leaves a message letting her know he’s heading into town for supplies. Despite any simmering bad blood between them, he’s perceptive enough to know that not leaving that note would only just make everything all the worse. The sense of abandonment still runs deep in her veins, even though he has promised over and over again that he is with her come what may.

He leaves her to get her aggression out in her garden, or chopping wood, the type of hard physical labor that results in a good, deep sleep once the day is over with.

Repairs get done quicker than anticipated when there are a spate of bad days in a row, and soon, the barebones skeleton of their new home starts to come together in earnest. He only hopes that in time, they’ll both learn how to enjoy it without the fear of everything falling apart hanging over their heads, and that they’ll be able to build the life together that neither believes they truly deserve, deep down.

Sometimes, when the blood runs hot, not bad, they find themselves taking their frustrations out on each other physically - not sparring, although that is an option, but in a much more intimate and pleasurable way. All they need is the closest room or free surface and eventually, verbal jabs turn into gasps and moans, and when all is said and done, they may be disheveled and sweaty and breathless, but any annoyance felt toward each other has disappeared, replaced by satisfaction.

Things are still awkward afterward, as they are wont to be when a real apology hasn’t come, but Cassian’s learned that he and Jyn still find ways to offer one without words.

He’s learned to read her body language like a book and knows when she’s got a headache. He doesn’t say anything, but gently sets a steaming cup of tea down in front of her that he’s sure will alleviate her symptoms enough to allow her to participate in her usual activities. Thanks, holonet.

And Jyn's observation skills are unmatched. Even if Cassian never complains out loud, he will sometimes find exactly what he needs waiting for him, and he knows there’s only one person that could have done it. He tears his favorite pair of gloves, and later finds them stuffed in the pocket of a jacket, carefully darned back together and stronger than ever.

A tool needs replacing or a knife needs sharpening? He’ll find them exactly where he’s left them last, brand new and glittering or looking sharp enough as though it’s never been used countless times before.

I’m sorry may not come very naturally to them, but by stars, they are doing their best. As far as he’s concerned, that’s got to count for something.

Sometimes, on particularly clear nights, an apology can look like curling up together on the soft grassy hillside to silently stare up at the sky together, letting the peace and stillness wash over them as they watch shooting stars overhead. Those times, nothing needs to be said. It’s enough that Jyn’s resting her head over Cassian’s heart, letting the steady beating of his heart lull her into relaxation. It’s enough to be able to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head and be assured that even if he can’t see it, she’s smiling.

Sometimes, it’s enough to know that through it all, the good days and bad days, the lessons they’re still learning about how to live, the love always remains.

The rest will come in time.

#rebelcaptain secret santa 2024 #rcss 2024 #stuff which lauren writes #stuff which lauren watches #rogue one: a star wars story #jyn erso #cassian andor #jyn x cassian

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homestuckreplay · 2 days ago

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New Year, New Trolls

(page 1089-1099)

So far, every scene of Homestuck has taken place on John, Rose, Dave or Jade’s birthday. I’m also really excited that the Dave flashback we got a glimpse of on page 1073 is real and here, even if his city looks miserable in December. And page 1089 includes an absolute top tier line: ‘When [John] sees your staggering gesture of sentimentality he will finally understand. He will understand that in the game of facetious sentimental gestures, no one gets the best of Rose Lalonde.’

It’s also fun learning that both Rose and Dave have changed their desktop wallpapers recently! I’m delighted to know that Rose Lalonde’s previous wallpaper was the official art for the Call of Cthulhu card game – sorry, the Foretelling of Fluthlu card game – with a heavy purple filter applied. I believe this edition is from 2008 and Rose is definitely playing it. Meanwhile, Dave has chosen an officially licensed Starsky & Hutch wallpaper, released by Warner Bros. as promotional material before the movie’s 2004 release. Dave has removed the ‘In Theaters March 5’ but kept everything else identical. Ironically, I’m sure.

John’s Letters

John is the sweetest, and I wish he could see more of his own strengths and wasn’t dunking on his own drawings here. His letters are very different to how he communicates via Pesterchum – he’s expressing feelings towards his friends far more strongly here, and he’s also showing a deeper understanding of them than usual. It must be easier for him to express himself with that extra layer of distance, having time to think about his words and knowing that he won’t get a direct response.

John casually drops that Rose has been his friend ‘all these years’, so they’ve known each other since they were… 8 or 9, maybe? That’s a reasonable age to be on the internet and proficient with typing, and see each other as old friends by 12 or 13. I mean, they’ve probably been friends for 4 years and 13 days at the start of the story, so that fits.

John knowing what a wet T-shirt contest is feels pretty jarring, and totally came from whatever movie he watched the night before writing this. More obviously in character is John saying ‘they're totally authentic! they actually touched ben stiller's weird, sort of gaunt face at some point’ in his December letter to Dave, and then using the exact same phrasing via Pesterchum the following April - ‘you do realize they touched stiller's weird, sort of gaunt face at some point’ (p.110). It’s also extremely heartwarming that Dave immediately takes off the shades that match his brother’s and puts on the new ones he got from his best friend, and then never switches back. John says ‘i think you just gotta get out of your bro's shadow and spread your wings dude!!!’ and Dave actually listens. That’s a hard thing to do all at once, but a big first step, and it only happened because Dave had support from an actual cool person in his life.

Here’s the thing: John loves his friends. Jade’s visions and their importance suggest that a lot of Homestuck is about predestination, and that it’s possible that at least John and Jade’s meeting was fated or engineered. But even if all four kids only met because of something Jade saw in dreams, that doesn’t create love! They’re still the kids who put in the effort to connect despite all their differences and who go above and beyond to care for each other and show love on each other’s birthdays! At this point John knows nothing about any predestination, he just knows that these people mean a lot to him and he wants them to know that.

Act 3 began with a page titled ‘Dear John,’ (p.759), showing us Nanna’s message inside Colonel Sassacre’s tome, and now we’ve got ‘dear rose,’ (p.1091) and ‘dear dave,’ (p.1097), so I am calling it now that the final page of the act will be a Dear Jade.

grimAuxiliatrix

carcinoGeneticist was a very disappointing and uncreative troll when we met on page 859, but grimAuxiliatrix is a master at work, and their pesterlog with Rose is a joy to read. GA’s gambit of claiming to be an alien out of sync with Earth’s time and used to dealing with species of far superior intellect is hilarious, I would actively enjoy getting trolled by them, and of course Rose would be compelled enough by the game to accidentally in some way fall for it. The ‘beginning every word with a capital letter’ is a nice touch that does make them sound more alien. Rose and Dave’s banter is great but I feel like GA challenges Rose more than Dave does, and definitely has a more similar vocabulary. Describing time as ‘A Utility That A Universe May Resort To In Order To Advance A Desired Degree Of Complexity’ is interesting, and suggests the possibility of a universe that does not utilize time – the Incipisphere, perhaps?

It seems like Rose isn’t fully buying GA’s claim to have spoken to future Rose, but we know from her relationship with Jade that she’s not fully closed off to the supernatural, so I’m hoping this previous/next conversation comes around soon.

adiosToreador

While John and Jade’s instincts are to avoid messages from the trolls, Rose and Dave’s are to play the trolls at their own game. Dave and AT’s conversation is equal parts disgusting and disturbing and contains several phrases I wish I’d never read, and hope to never read again. But essentially they’re playing online gay chicken, and Dave is willing to take it much further. GA referred to a group that is ‘All Already In Agreement’, but they could be a leader of the group, and AT a more unwilling follower who doesn’t take to trolling so well. It seems like they’re going for a mix of CG’s aggression and GA’s wordiness and not really succeeding with either, and having this easy target for bullying brings out the worst in Dave, so I’m not on anyone’s side here. They’re both knowingly trying to upset each other, and I think it is believable that they would talk like this, but I don't want any part of it.

This is also, technically, the act’s title page – Dave drops the phrase ‘insane corkscrew haymakers’ towards the end of the page, in a context I don’t especially want to explore in depth. It’s a fun phrase out of context but I too would block Dave for some of the other stuff he says.

Troll Theories

It would be way too much of a coincidence if, in a story where some locations exist ‘untouched by the flow of time’ of others, these trolls were just regular people on Earth making this all up. I personally think the trolls are currently on the ominous planet, and are specifically trying to cause problems for these Sburb players. I’m not sure if they are part of the game – either a random rival group of players admitted to the same session, or a group of NPCs – or if they’re hackers who have infiltrated this session against the game’s wishes. If they are hackers, they could end up being technically ‘good’ if they’re working against Sburb itself, but will probably still have different goals to the kids.

If they’re planted by Sburb and there are twelve of them aligned with the ominous planet, and only four fighting on behalf of Prospit, this could explain why the forces of light are destined to lose. If that’s the case, the game has a social angle – if Rose can convince GA that it’s smarter to fight for the light, and if Dave can bully AT into doing the same, then John and Jade only need to sway one person each for an evenly matched, fair fight. I also think it’s possible that the Midnight Crew is four of these guys, although I don’t have any thoughts as to which, or to who the other eight would be.

> Dave: Break old sunglasses in annoyance.

#homestuck #reaction #the pace of this story is insane! its hard to keep up just as a reader!#chrono

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citrusandrottefruit · 1 day ago

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My thoughts on the Hanahaki fic:

I think the whole idea of Hanahaki is really interesting and can be quite romantic in a tragic way, but I also think a lot about how horrible it is and the potential for it to end badly even when it's about reciprocated love. I think Hanahaki itself could be explored so much more in so many ways, but it often becomes so secondary, even though it's the theme of the fic.

How could anyone focus more on the fact that they're in love than on what that love has caused? Why don't these people try to confess early on, when they're still relatively okay? Some characters are so quick to choose to die without knowing for sure.

Hanahaki is horrible, but it’s usually portrayed as being horrible for the cause, not for itself. The suffering of dying, of feeling the slow decline of one’s own body, is understated, I think.

Another thing I was also thinking about is how stories about sick people end in miracle or tragedy. I don’t like that. Why can’t a sick person have something good that will last? Why can’t they be happy? Why does happiness have to be fleeting and end in death? Or a miracle? Why is it always about transforming other people’s lives?

People don’t have to be healthy to be happy. Health can be an important part of that, but it’s not an option for many people. Finding moments of happiness, joy, satisfaction, and pride should still be possible. And that’s not about making a bucket list and skydiving.

With that in mind, I wanted to write about a moment in the life of someone with Hanahaki, like a chronic illness. Just a moment. It’s not when Steve was diagnosed and had to learn to accept the fact that he wasn’t healthy, it’s not that moment in illness when the decline is so rapid that you run out of options. It’s just a moment in his life, where everything is influenced by the illness, but the big thing isn’t the illness itself. It’s him falling in love and deciding to open up to the family he found.

Also, since most Hanahaki fics have as their main themes poor communication and romantic love triggering the disease, I wanted to do something different.

Hanahaki is not something magical here that can happen to anyone (if it could, it would be much more common), it is simply a genetic disease that is triggered by emotional distress and starts to fill the person's lungs with something that looks like roots (what is that? I don't know. Some kind of cartilage hyperplasia that doesn't directly affect the joints, but causes a lot of cartilage to spontaneously grow around the lungs, maybe).

So, I decided that here Steve recognizes the importance of communication and does something about it, telling everyone who matters about what Hanahaki is really like. And Eddie, who would normally be the cause of Hanahaki, is not. He is simply someone Steve has started to love, who will not be the main cause of his suffering.

In this case, it's also easier for him to confess, because he doesn't have to say, "Hey, Eddie, if you don't like me, I'm going to die, because you made me sick." Technically, he would just have to say, "Hey, Eddie, I'm sick, love me, because loving and taking care of me will help me survive longer." But he didn't say any of that. He talked about himself, about his parents, and about his illness.

Because he wants to be loved, he wants to have a family, but he could never live in peace with himself if he didn't make it very clear what his life is going to be like. Right now, he's stable and relatively well, but things are still going to get worse and he needs to be sure, for himself and for the people he loves, that he won't be abandoned.

I could have done a lot worse. I considered it. Putting Steve through a lot more hospitalizations, having a lot more invasive procedures, spending a lot more time in the hospital, but I think that would have been inconsistent with everything he's done in canon. And I didn't want to take away all of his heroic deeds because his disease was so advanced, so I decided to give him 10 years of stability, with the disease progressing at a manageable pace.

Unfortunately, that also involved a lot of neglect of treatment, so his health started to decline further, but it's far from terminal.

Being sick is a very lonely experience, especially with rare diseases, because it feels like no one understands. Even the people closest to you, friends and family, are often unwilling to even try to understand. So I wanted to write an Eddie who searches for everything he can on his own, and who listens silently when Steve has the courage to talk about Hanahaki and his parents. He will never fully understand Steve, but he is trying, and that is very important.

Since Mrs. Harrington also has Hanahaki, it was possible to bring two different perspectives, and get this! Neither of them died, neither of them is a “one-sided love,” they just deal with the disease in very different ways.

I thought a lot about how to write Steve’s parents’ relationship, because it’s so complex, but I decided not to try to understand the nuances, because it’s being presented from their son’s point of view anyway, so it’s not like he knows everything. The fact is, they balance between decline and survival.

Mrs. Harrington is doing well because her husband still makes a point of spoiling her and giving her attention, and that’s enough to make her feel loved. He may like how loved he is, how much she adores him, and I can’t say he doesn’t want her to be well. He does. He cares for her, deeply. He wouldn’t spend 15 years (counting from the diagnosis) with a sick woman if he didn’t want to keep her alive.

But he doesn't understand Hahanaki, he doesn't even expect her to live for another 50 years. He doesn't think of her death as something that will shake the universe, it's just a certainty. He loves her, in a distant and impersonal way, and he loves that she loves him so much. They don't communicate well. They don't face Hanahaki together, they just go around it as if it were a huge ghost between them.

Mrs. Harrington medicates herself, of course, and gets the best treatments that money can buy, but that's very secondary in her life. Being reciprocated, believing in it and being with the ones she loves helps control the disease, but they don't do it in a healthy way.

To make matters worse, she isolated herself from many people and focused on who caused the circumstances that triggered Hanahaki.

Steve does the opposite. He talks about Hanahaki, he wants to make sure everyone knows how unavoidable Hanahaki has become, though he does his best to ignore it until 1985, when he has to tell Robin. Even then, he tries to downplay the fact that he is sick, because he doesn't want to worry her.

He changes his outlook because shortly after Vecna, he can feel how much weaker his body seems to be, and when he doesn't get better, he realizes that he can't be well enough to hide it anymore. Then the tests, the realization that he has actually gotten worse, and with that comes a new understanding of how uncertain his future is.

Steve could be like his mother. They share the same blood, the same disease, they spent years having similar ideas about keeping things a secret, they both watched Mr. Harrington go away while they stayed behind.

Then he watched his mother go away too.

Steve had a relationship that didn’t end well, and he was able to forgive, and he might have been able to get back together with Nancy and ignore everything that went wrong between them during spring break. But he didn’t do any of those things. Maybe that’s the choice he would have made, if Robin hadn’t been there for him, and if he hadn’t fallen in love with Eddie, if he didn’t care about the kids. If there wasn’t so much else in his life.

He made very different choices than his mother.

Anyway, that's it. Chronic Hanahaki, having a support network that goes far beyond a boyfriend, complications caused by the disease and the agony of living knowing that any day could be THE day you'll go into the hospital and won't get out so easily.

@eyehartart

#that is it #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hanahaki disease #stranger things #hanahaki au

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bokutosbabe · 2 days ago

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Hiii hope you’re having a lovely week <3 and Merry early Christmas!! I hope you get everything you’ve been wanting!! I think the marriage event is so so so cute omg, and I was wondering if I could get yoichi isagi with tropes 🍓 and 🍫? Mostly bc my dumbass thinks strawberries and chocolate go well together lol. Your works are amazing btw!! And honestly I don’t know how you find the motivation or time to write so much, it’s so inspiring 🫶 keep up the good work and have a lovely Christmas (or something else you celebrate!)

Hiii! i love making ( and eating ) chocolate covered strawberries, so i totally get it :) and tysm! I usually brain dump every few days then struggle to get into it again, but alas i prevail! i had a lovely christmas, i hope you did too!

now for

an isagi yoichi chocolate covered strawberry :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° like a dog with a bird at your door

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event!

♡ content — isagi yoichi x gn! reader, gn! reader, unrequited love, isagi and reader are childhood friends, isagi mentions liking another girl (no name mentioned), KUNIGAMI MENTIONED!!! (once but i love him), reader has feelings for isagi, set in high school :)

♡ synopsis — you'd wait for a million chances with isagi yoichi, but he wouldn't even give you one.

You knew doing this marriage simulation with Isagi Yoichi was a mistake the moment you saw his name on the pairing list.

Your heart clenched, the familiar ache settling in your chest. Isagi had always been your closest friend—someone who could make you laugh on your worst days and whose determination inspired you to push forward. But that closeness came with a cost: the quiet, unreciprocated feelings you’d carried for years.

It was fine, though. You’d learned how to manage them. Or so you thought.

“Hey!” Isagi greeted you that first day in the shared apartment, his signature smile lighting up the room. “Looks like we’re stuck with each other, huh?”

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a grin. “Lucky me.”

If he noticed the strain in your voice, he didn’t say anything.

The first few weeks of the program were easy enough. Isagi’s natural charm made it impossible not to enjoy his company, and his unrelenting optimism balanced out your more cautious approach.

He was attentive, thoughtful, and surprisingly good at playing the role of a devoted partner. It felt so real sometimes that you had to remind yourself it wasn’t.

The way he’d casually sling an arm around your shoulders when the instructors were watching, the way he’d call you by a pet name that made your stomach flip—it was all for show. And when the simulation ended, it would all go away.

You reminded yourself of that every night as you lay awake in your separate rooms, staring at the ceiling and wishing things could be different.

One evening, after a particularly intense day of tasks, you both collapsed on the couch, a shared bowl of popcorn between you.

“Man, I don’t know how people do this for real,” Isagi said with a laugh, throwing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “It’s exhausting.”

You smiled faintly, keeping your eyes on the TV. “Guess it’s easier when you’re with someone you actually love.”

Isagi hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I bet it is.”

The silence stretched, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket. You didn’t dare look at him, afraid of what you’d see.

Instead, you changed the subject, masking your hurt with a joke that made him laugh. But his words stayed with you, carving deeper into the parts of you that already felt raw.

It wasn’t until halfway through the program that you found out why Isagi had signed up for it.

You were cleaning up after dinner when he blurted it out, his voice casual but laced with excitement.

“Did I tell you? She joined the program, too. She’s paired with Kunigami.”

Your hand froze mid-wash, the plate slipping slightly under your grip. “Who?” Isagi had been your friend, yes, but he'd never told you about another girl before.

"She's in our class," He nodded, his eyes lighting up at the mention of her. “I’ve been meaning to tell her how I feel, but I guess I haven’t found the right moment yet. This program’s the perfect chance, though, right?”

Your stomach dropped, the air around you suddenly too heavy.

“Right,” you said, forcing a smile. “Perfect chance.”

He didn’t notice the tremor in your voice or the way you quickly turned back to the sink, blinking back tears.

From that point on, everything hurt a little more.

The way he’d absentmindedly lean into you during group exercises, the way he’d talk about his plans for the future, the way he’d practice his “husband” role so earnestly—it all felt like salt in a wound you couldn’t close.

You wanted to hate him for how blind he was to your feelings, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t his fault. And you couldn’t fault him for wanting someone like Tsubaki, someone who was bright and kind and seemingly perfect in every way.

You could only stand by and watch, your heart breaking a little more with each passing day.

The final night of the program came faster than you’d expected.

You sat together on the couch, the apartment eerily quiet now that all the tasks were done.

“Hard to believe it’s over, huh?” Isagi said, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” you replied, staring at your hands. “Hard to believe.”

He leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. “You know… I think this program taught me a lot. About relationships, about myself. And about you.”

Your heart skipped, hope flickering despite yourself. “Yeah? What about me?”

He smiled, that familiar, radiant smile that had always made you feel like the world was brighter. “You’re an amazing friend. I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.”

Friend.

The word echoed in your mind, snuffing out the tiny ember of hope that had been burning inside you.

“Thanks, Yoichi,” you said, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. “I’m glad I could help.”

The next morning, you packed your things in silence, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the air.

When it was time to leave, Isagi pulled you into a tight hug, his warmth making it even harder to let go.

“Thanks for everything,” he said, his voice sincere. “I’ll never forget this.”

“Me neither,” you murmured, your words barely audible.

As you walked away, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over.

You’d known from the start that this was how it would end—with Isagi chasing after someone else, and you left behind, holding onto feelings that would never be returned.

But even so, you didn’t regret it. Because for a little while, you’d gotten to be close to him. And that, you told yourself, was enough.

it was so awful making this not have a happy ending :,)

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #bllk #blue lock #airy answers asks :)#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi #bllk isagi #yoichi isagi #blue lock isagi

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nihilnovisubsole · 3 days ago

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hey, gang! miss me? no? too bad, because i miss you. i think about you all the time. i hope the year has treated you well. this is, what, the third, fourth year i've done a year-in-review post? have i done more than that? it's after midnight. i can't be bothered to check. i fear a lot of the mysteries of getting older, but i will say, i don't mind that it's easier to shrug certain things off. i look back on all the times i hid from some scary fandom discourse and go, "god, why did i care?" it helps to have other things going on.

on the other hand, i guess 2024 was the year of finding out what happens when you put everything into your day job and leave nothing for the weekend. it was a wild year at work, which i assume is normal as a game ramps up to ship. i gave a lot, which was good! i'd be lying if i said it didn't take a lot out of me. important people at trade shows have now seen things i wrote! i got to work with voice actors! good news: a lot of your faves are great people! i also made, like, no progress on any of my own projects except the picrew, which i still chip away at. yes, i still draw. more on that later.

one or two people in my coworkers-turned-friends circle have broached the subject of occupational burnout and whether i've reached it yet. as i said last year, i remember what voltage burnout felt like, and it took a much weirder, angrier journey to get me there. it's kind that they're looking out for me, though. i think it's something all creative people could stand to keep an eye on. a buddy of mine even gave a GDC talk about it. it's a shame GDC is so stingy with access to its talks. at least this article has a great summary if you're interested in learning more.

there were other things, though. my mother broke her hip in june, which forced me into a caregiver role that i'm not suited to. don't worry, she's fine now. i love her, so it was important to me, but it didn't leave a lot of time to sit and write for fun. i started what i thought would be a casual fanfic project, wildly over-scoped it, and made a ton of work for myself. i outlined an original story about a difficult, personal subject and a culture i'm descended from, but not really familiar with. there's a lot of pressure to do it right, is what i'm saying. i'm taking the only path i can think of, which is to bury myself in research. the trouble is, a lot of the literature about this time and place is also very challenging, so it burns a lot of brain calories. it's a far cry from what usually gets me to start a story, which is "i want these characters to sleep together. let's see where it goes."

in a different time, i would've taken this struggle as an omen that i wasn't the right person to write this story and abandoned it. it's critical that i don't take the coward's way out this time if i'm going to honor the question i asked at the end of last year. "what is my work saying?" my mother told me the same thing a few months ago: "i think you're a good writer, you just need to find good things to say." i take that to mean i have to write closer to real experiences, which means including the parts i don't like: disappointment, loss, mistakes, uncertainty. i had all of this year to figure out how, and the evidence shows i didn't. i don't know what to say. "oh well?" maybe you can't put a deadline on these things. in the meantime, hercule and aida deserve more stories (it's an hercule and aida story), and i want more people to know about them, and maybe i can say something real through them.

this was also the year that i reckoned with the other side of "all it takes is money to make problems go away." i was able to travel, i mean really travel, for the first time. all it took was being able to throw a chunk of my salary at it. i had some shipping drama [sorry, not the romantic kind] where i had no choice but to pony up a ton of customs fees. my arm PT didn't work, so i'll have to try a specialist who's out of my insurance network and pay full price to see them. this must be what they call "being a successful adult." i thought it'd look different. i wanted to live in the city and have a hot, mysterious boyfriend. well, i can still live closer to the city if i keep saving up for that house, and maybe some hot, mysterious guy will take pity on me someday. do you think they like 32-year-olds who play video games and have flat chests? i went all the way to paris and still didn't find out. damn! 🤌

nah, i'm kidding. i mean, i'm not, but i have other things to worry about. as i mentioned above, things with my arm have taken a curious turn. after six and a half years of assuming i had tendinitis, i found out, not only is it likely not that, i may not be injured at all. the particulars of this theory get out into the weeds of neuromuscular science, so i'll only bore you with them if you want me to. the point is, if any of it holds water, it would go a long way toward explaining why none of the typical rest/heat/stretching/strengthening protocols have worked. it's actually unfathomable how much effort i've put into solving this mystery just so i can get back to drawing fictional people kissing. you can call my creative work boring or predictable or whatever you want, but never say i haven't committed to the bit.

i don't tend to read my previous years-in-review. this year, i did, because i sensed i was grappling with a lot of the same things as last year. there's nothing i hate like being repetitive. not that you would know from the way i keep writing the same three character archetypes. humor me here. i was all set to keep whining until i reminded myself how 2023 had gone, and i thought, "geez. it wasn't that bad." nobody i love died, for a start. my health is better. i have some unread books sitting around. as terrible as 2023 was, i survived it. if you're reading this, you did too.

so here's what i'm going to do. i think you should do it with me, though whether i'm in any position to give advice is up to you. i'm not going to make any predictions about whether 2025 will be bad or good. i'm just going to see what happens. deal? all right. we'll check in next year. you'd better be there!

#long post

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thebestpartofwakingup · 2 years ago

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Coloring instructions are for teaching/training fine motor skills in little kids before they’re old enough to begin writing. The easier it is for a kid to hold a crayon or marker (thicker than a pencil and easier to hold) a certain way and control their strokes the easier it is for kids to hold a pencil and write both without wrist/grip strain and with enough precision for the writing to be clearly read later

You want to build up that strength as much as you can before the child is writing in class because the easier it is for the child to physically write the more inclined they will be to take notes, which makes them more inclined to pay attention.

When kids are given instructions to color a certain way it gives teachers an easier time in watching how that process is developing among the students. Such as which children are learning or developing the strength to hold a crayon like a pencil and which aren’t. If they aren’t encouraged to do so they probably won’t if it’s not the easiest or most comfortable method, but that’s how it goes for building any strength. Telling the kids that their coloring will “look better” is just incentive to follow those instructions, maybe it’s less comfortable to hold the crayon like they will eventually hold a pen or pencil BUT the teacher said it’ll look better if they do and they want to have their teacher’s and peer’s approval.

Let the kids color however they want and some kids might naturally build the strength for holding a pencil and writing and some might not, meaning once they’re being taught how to write their individual strengths and inclinations are going to vary greatly, so either the class takes greater time to get the lower performing kids caught up, and risk losing the attention and boring the higher performing kids (who may also learn to resent the teacher or class or other students for ‘holding them back’) OR the class tries to incentivize the lower performing kids to get better on their own by keeping pace with the higher performing kids — risking frustration and resentment for the class among the lower performing kids who can’t catch up without additional aid. You can also provide additional aid through the school directly to those kids, and many do, but an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of treatment. Not to mention additional class room time for individual students at such a young age would mean having to cut into their time for other classes, which itself can be detrimental, or make them feel ostracized for their ‘special treatment’

In other news it’s not gaslighting your pets to mix their medication in with their treats

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

#it’s not that deep #kids are encouraged to do this so that teachers can better pick up on how they are developing their fine motor skills and sight #because it’s way harder to notice that little Jimmy doesn’t have the strength or coordination to hold his crayon correctly #when his classmates that CAN just DON’T because it’s more fun not to #also? most coloring books and pages are given to kids young enough to not be writing yet #and crayons and markers are thicker and easier to hold than pens and pencils #so teaching kids how to be precise and careful with crayons and markers is to subtly reach and train their fine motor skills and strength #SO THEY HAVE AN EASIER TIME LEARNING TO WRITE #and the easier a kid finds physically writing the easier the kid finds taking notes #which encourages good study behavior

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