#and ever since I first read about Wildings I been OBSESSED

[pinkyjulien]

▶ Wilding

One of the most common "rituals" in the nomad community is called (by the anti-nomad media) "wilding". Wilding is when a group of nomads, usually all youths, venture into static society to "see what it's all about." It is a fairly new occurence in the nomad community, but has gained an increasing interest among the youth. Despite the name and media portrayal, most wildings are peaceful and boring. ━ NeoTribes, page 21

Valentin & Mitch | 670/??

[mosaickiwi]

Home Away From

I love hopeless agony almost as much as tooth rotting fluff??

Post-kidnapping Angel adjusting (badly) to the new normal.

might do a part 2 where it gets even worse idk ← my last words before i get thrown out of the plane

Kidnapping, imprisonment, codependency, etc.

proceed with caution

Eyes straight forward, you had to keep yourself occupied fiddling with the edge of a couch cushion. Every single one had a few loose threads from how often you worried away at them. 

Twelve… thirteen… fourteen neatly aligned book spines on the lowest shelf behind the dark haired man kneeling in front of you. A full, hardcover collection of your favorite webcomic, each book signed and dedicated to you. Maybe you'd force yourself to read them all again. For the third time since your arrival.

"Angel."

It was hard to keep track of how long you'd been here—in this house far removed from Corland Bay, with everything you ever wanted in a forever home. All those wild, fantasy-ridden dreams you joked about with Ren, and then [REDACTED], were true now.

And yet your supposed fiancé carried you over the threshold of that forever home kicking and screaming. 

"Still not talking?"

His hand reached for yours, fingers gently lacing between your own before you eventually pulled away. You saw their real reaction in the corner of your vision. By now, you knew him as obsessively as he knew you—there wasn't much he could hide anymore. The pain in his blue eyes lingered for too long this time.

It hurt. You hated to see that look on his face. But you hated being trapped here so much more than that. Why couldn't he understand?

Realistically, a silent treatment would get you nowhere. A few hours had turned to days, then weeks, and he was still soft-spoken and doting towards you. There was hardly a difference in the man you proposed to, and the one that bolted the front door shut from the outside on the few occasions they left for supplies.

You were too used to domestic life, too docile compared to that first day—sometimes you'd lose yourself and forget you were a prisoner. All your old hobbies still occupied your days while he sat nearby, and it just felt natural to include the only person you ever saw. To call his name and read a passage from a book aloud for him to laugh, or casually scoot closer to him for warmth during a movie.

Those moments when you forgot felt like they could slot in between all your old memories with ease.

"I'm sorry, love. I only wanted t'keep you safe," he whispered.

His breath almost tickled your legs, followed by the feel of his forehead resting against them. The urge to brush a hand through their hair—an innocent gesture you did at least daily back home—hurt just as much to ignore.

Were it not for their words of apology, even now could've been another memory. Who could fault you for falling into habits of comfort with the one who lived for you, and you alone?

The silent treatment was the best you could do.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Tired and disoriented, you woke up alone in your bedroom. The pink haired plushie you normally cuddled had disappeared somewhere, probably tossed to a corner of the room in your fitful sleep. Your usual replacement for a space heater was nowhere to be found, either.

Had he stayed up late? You called their name. "Ren?"

A muted commotion in the hallway outside, then the door creaked open. "Angel?" your beloved hacker answered back cautiously.

"Are you coming to bed?"

There was no response for a long moment. But soon enough, his familiar footsteps sounded against the floor.

You sat up and pulled the blanket to the side for them. As he settled in, you cuddled close, resting one arm over their chest while your head laid in its rightful place atop his shoulder. You managed to lean up and find their lips for a quick kiss before closing your eyes.

Though you couldn't see his face, you imagined the blush that painted his cheeks at every piece of affection you gave. With the thought fresh in your mind, you drifted off.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Hours later you woke again, your rest this time far more peaceful in their embrace. A pitiful, lazy groan left you as you stretched, then opened your eyes to greet your partner.

[REDACTED] was silently looking down at you, propped up on one arm. 

You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled at him. He leaned into your touch like always, but their usual loving gaze was laced with hesitation. As if waiting for something. Anxious of what could bother him, your hand followed the line of his jaw down to their neck, past the tattooed heart of your name, and settled on a piece of jewelry. 

Was that correct? It felt off. A long moment passed as you fiddled with it, trying to figure out what was so out of place about that silver chain, until it hit you.

The golden ring was back on his necklace, instead of on your finger where it belonged. Where it used to belong.

Weeks, or maybe even months ago, when they kept you in a careful hold while locking the bedroom door behind them—you'd thrown that ring in his face the second he let you go. 

For all the scratches and bite marks you'd put on his arm, tearing at skin that was already long scarred, he hadn't shown a hint of worry. Not until they bent down to get the ring that hit their chest and clattered to the floor.

It was the same worried face you saw now.

Your hand stilled, and before you could even whisper the words you wanted to yell, he slipped from the bed to give you space. The door clicked shut behind them to trap you in with your thoughts.

How could you be so stupid? Weak? They didn't have to try at all to wear you down; you did it all on your own. He tore you away from friends and family, yet here you were, forgetting yourself to play house with him. Then you took it a step further and let him sleep in your bed.

Nails dug into the pillow under your head, but instead of throwing it you squeezed it tight to your chest. You bit your lip to hold back the tears, glaring down at the empty spot on your ring finger that had only now begun to match the skin around it.

Another foolish dream to pile with all the others.

As much as you wanted to hope they would see reason one day and bring you back home to make things right—a thought far past irrational by now—you had to mourn the life taken from you.

You knew them, you knew them. Always seeking your favor so quickly that any argument quelled before it had a chance to begin, but stubborn when he felt it necessary.

If the first answer was a no… the next one and the next one wouldn't change. You should've accepted it the second he locked the door.

Ren was the only person you'd ever see again.

[mortalityplays]

Run Ragged - a short, wolfish comic

Back the comic on Kickstarter until October 11th!

A gothic 24-page comic with four bonus pages of diary comics on COVID and cartooning. Have you ever tried to balance your tough day-to-day life training as a ballet dancer with your secret night life, tearing through the ragged woods as a werewolf? No?  This short fantasy comic, obsessively illustrated, is the perfect preparation for that eventuality. 

“Marnie tells a story of the lacerations left by the choke chain of an ableist society, a story they carve from sinew and suspend in negative space. A urgent, vital and brilliant work by an urgent, vital and brilliant artist.” - Erika Price

Run Ragged is the best comic my younger sibling has ever made. And they've made a lot of comics, they've won prizes. They've been making comics since we were teenagers drawing together at the kitchen table in the stolen small hours of the morning while everyone else in the house was asleep.

Run Ragged made me cry when I read it, on my sibling's ipad, at a café table, with them sitting right opposite me. Embarrassing! But it's beautiful, in word and in thought, and in image.

Run Ragged is about dance, and about changing relationships with the only body you have when that body gets sick. When that body no longer wants to obey. It's about disability, about frustration and beauty, and about tearing off into the woods.

This comic really was a labour of love. I watched Axe develop it and agonise over it for more than a year, picking it up and putting it down and ripping it apart and sewing it back together. They drew most of it in bed, physically unable to get up. Every stitch in its hide is meticulous and I want you to read it, so much.

But let's look at some pages:

I told you, it's beautiful! Axe has a knack for poetics that I've never grasped. The comic comes with additional diary comics, too - the personal behind what is already a deeply personal work.

Like me, Axe is a full-time artist. Like me, that means they are terrible with money. Their goals for this kickstarter are so low - their first stretch goal is only £600, and I had to argue them into it. They have all kinds of little additional bonuses planned for future goals, and I desperately want to see them come to fruition. But more than that, I really, really, really want people to read this comic.

You can back Run Ragged on Kickstarter until October 11th, and snag yourself everything from an original sticker or linoprint to a full archive of Axe's digital comics or a personal portrait of your pet escaped into the wild woods.

>>> Please don't miss it! <<<

[constantcrying]

Ersatz, baby

m!shape-shifter!yandere x gn!reader. 4k words. yes. I'm so sorry.

TW: Obsession, possessive thoughts and behaviors, mentions of violence, gore, consumption of humans, idk how to tag it but the shape-shifter eats humans and has considered eating the reader so like heads up about that

Heeeeey

Somebody PLEASE tell me if the length of this piece is detrimental to the experience of reading it it’s like 4k words. Here’s something I’ve been kicking around for ages. Frankly I am shocked I have something at all after a year

“Odd couple” is the best way to describe the friendship between you and Sasha. You’re awkward and responsible and outwardly boring. He’s highly social, wild, and intriguing. You’re genuine to a fault. He’s an expert in facades; he is a facade. You’re human and he’s something utterly not.

The freak accident of affection between you two is...still hard for him to wrap his head around. It seems to be your fault. If you weren’t so pitifully earnest toward him he would have just gotten rid of you. You were aware of his true nature, and definitely scared of it, but you kept going out of your way to be the Good Roommate™, to play friends. He had to let you live, just to see what the fuck your deal is. Now it’s too late. Now he wants you around.

You are the only person in the world that he has shown his real body to.

Some of his victims have seen it, but you’re the first person he intended to see it. The decision was quiet, perhaps a little impulsive. A simple exchange of “What are you, Sasha?” and “I don’t know. Wanna see?” had you both going to your bedroom and locking the door.

For the first time in his life, his heart pounded as he shed his clothes. He almost didn’t want you to turn around and look. It might be better if you only knew the carefully curated version of him, the handsome appearance he painstakingly crafted for the easiest social life. Even though you already knew he wasn’t human and pretended it didn’t matter, what if you saw him now and knew with absolute certainty that you didn’t want to look at him ever again? He would have to swallow you whole. He wasn’t sure if he could do it.

Regardless he said, “turn around.”

He showed you the unvarnished form that he had inherited from his mother. To be frank: It’s a predator’s body. Worse that that, it’s a monster’s. There are features and junctures of him so uncanny it must hurt the logical mind to observe them. If you were ever looking for the perfect rebuttal to the existence of a loving God, look no further than his cruel mouth.

He crept onto you bed looking like this, towering over you, your bed-frame screaming to protest the weight. He’d have to cut you off at the source, if you were to scream. And though he could smell the fear wafting from your skin, could practically feel the constricting blood vessels and tightening muscles in you, you still asked him, “Hey, is it more comfortable? Do you prefer being like this?”

Honestly? He isn’t sure there’s a body that’s comfortable and natural to him anymore. He’s so used to a human state that anything else feels awkward, even when it’s easier to shift to. As you took his massive claws into your hands and examined them with gentle curiosity, though, he was struck by the warmth of you. It was a long time since anyone had really touched him. It might’ve been even longer for you, loner that you are. Which meant you were the only person who could understand the way he felt in that moment.

He flopped over next to you, letting out an embarrassing dog-like whine, but you just laughed sweetly, and shifted pillows around to accommodate his bigger size. His feet and tail still dangled awkwardly off the bed. “You can relax in here,” you said. “You’re always welcome, since you’re my friend.”

You rambled about your classes and professors until all the adrenaline had left your system. He didn’t say much in response, but you didn’t mind. After a while, you could almost meet his preternatural gaze. You even dozed off like this, with a monster beside you, you utter weirdo. He put his head closer to your chest and felt your sleeping breaths for hours, thinking that your throat would be butter-soft under his teeth.

Sasha knows very little about what he really wants. He’s not sure if he’ll stay in his major, or in school, or even in human society. He knows for certain, though, that he wants more time to study you. He wants just your quiet voice and humble body heat and the understanding that, whatever he is, it isn’t going to chase you away.

So you two keep doing this. Every few days he’ll skulk over to where you are and make room for himself, and the two of you will talk for hours. Sometimes he shifts. He doesn’t always want to, but you get more comfortable with him that way. You...seem more keen to pet him when he looks and acts like an animal, and he wants you to touch him so bad he’s worried he’ll start asking for it. Could he ever live it down, if he started asking to be coddled? No. So he wags his tail and butts his head against you like that isn’t it’s own special brand of pathetic.

It’s not like you’re one to judge, though. You’re just so happy to have a friend that comes to hang out with you. You’ve never had very many of those, but of course Sasha knows he’s extra special. There’s much he’s learned about the world from his strange perspective, and you’re always excited to listen to his stories.

You do understand that he needs to eat a lot. You see him clear out four bacon cheeseburgers as a snack once, and he cracks jokes about how breakfast was red bull and adderall, but you know that it’s just a part of his biology that works against him. So you go out of your way to cook more meat, and give him bigger portions than anyone else, ignoring the way your blatant favoritism must look to the other roommates and occasional visitors. He doesn’t bother explaining that your idea of a big meal is like his idea of an appetizer, and he never will.

He doesn’t talk about the people he eats, either. He’s starting to think you don’t realize he does that.

(If you really don’t know, if this is the way you treat him when you don’t know, there’s no fucking way he can tell you.)

As for you, you talk about your courses and your classmates. From the way you talk around it, he’s mostly figured out the sad shape of your childhood and he decides that’s why you’re so weird and naive.

Mostly, you tell him about your hobbies, and your taste in TV shows. That’s when something in you is unlocked, revealing you to be more witty and giggly than your initial impression. It’s gratifying to know most other people don’t discover that side of you, like being the only prospector who knows where gold is. You tell him about everything you used to watch and play with your best friend, back when she had time for you. He’s a little confused by just how fervently you love things, how you start to care one day and then never, ever stop.

He never did it before, but now the two of you watch garbage TV together. (You tried to invite your best friend to join you, but to Sasha’s satisfaction, she gave you that cringing sort of smile and told you she didn’t have time.) Every Friday comes a new episode of Crater County, this schlocky supernatural police procedural, so every Thursday night you ask him to watch it with you. He’s a busy man, of course, but he’ll fit it into his schedule since he knows you so look forward to it.

This Thursday you must have forgot.

Somehow, in the early morning on Friday, you slip away without Sasha noticing. He wakes up to the honks of geese and distant cars, and the ever-present hum of electricity. As he thinks of pestering you to make ham and eggs, just to watch you get annoyed, he notices the conspicuous lack of your heartbeat.

He knows better than to doubt his hearing. But he still goes into your room across the hall to find the bed unmade and unoccupied. He almost goes to check your pillow for warmth, only stopping when he realizes it’s...stupid, to do that. He stays in the doorway for a long moment, overly-conscious of your scent. Then he goes to pace in the empty kitchen.

It hadn’t occurred to you to say goodbye to him, or leave him a portion of breakfast as you usually do, so you must have been in a hurry. Distantly, he remembers your fast food job. You probably got called to cover for someone at the last minute. Even so, shouldn’t you have said something to him? So that he wouldn’t wonder? Because he’s—

—well, you called him your friend.

It bothers him the more he thinks about it, while he showers and gets coffee and goes to class. The two of you haven’t talked since Monday and it feels weird. You always tell him when you’re going out, so what happened? Where can he even find you?

Not that he would need to find you. Sasha isn’t clingy. Clingy is his ex making alt account after alt account to pester him on instagram with stupid questions like, “are you seriously trying to ghost me you asshole?” And Sasha isn’t doing that. He hasn’t even texted you yet, because you haven’t texted him, and you always text first. If you don’t go through with the trouble of asking for him, he absolutely will not bother coming.

You haven’t sent so much as a “hey!” in the last seventeen times that he’s checked, so. Guess you guys aren’t hanging out. Whatever. It’s not like he doesn’t have stuff to do. He’s behind on several classes, a habitual skipper, and there are four other people begging him to come out tonight. He hasn’t hunted in a while so he should probably do that too.

He should go and talk to other humans, re-acquire their speech patterns and body language. He should catch himself when he makes gestures you would make, stop himself from making them. That’s why he goes to lunch with a friend group he met last month, and fits in with them seamlessly—or, almost seamlessly. No one can say he isn’t a good talker, slick as oil and quick with comebacks, but he’s a little more sensitive than usual today. While he’s in the middle of charming them he slips up and says something you would say.

“Isn’t that a Crater County reference you just made?” One girl says to him, stopping the conversation cold. “I thought you hated nerdy stuff like that.”

Sasha laughs shortly. “What? Says who?”

“Says you. You laughed at someone’s Supernatural tattoo at the party, remember?”

“It was a fucking horrendous tattoo. And I don’t like Crater Country or whatever, either, I just know some lines because my,” his throat feels like a desert, but he continues, “my roommate is obsessed with that shit.”

They brush over that thought soon enough, shifting focus to upcoming concerts, but Sasha can’t get comfortable again. He feels like he forgot how eyes work, and his are going to slip and turn reptilian in the middle of this well-populated restaurant. He’s scared his hands are going to morph into paws. In the end, he excuses himself before he can finish his meal.

Since he’s still quite hungry, Sasha decides he’ll drop by the butcher and get a few pounds of beef chuck to tide him over until dark. He’ll go to that fancy shop with all the grass-fed cruelty-free organic stuff, because he’s passionate about the well-fare of livestock, and definitely not because it’s just down the street from your job.

But since he’s there, anyway, he’ll pass by and peek through the windows to see what’s happening there.

Your restaurant is packed. A sports team, or special event or something, has filled every table in sight, and more people queue up at the register. You’re boxing fries and passing them over to waiting customers’ trays. Even though you’ve got mountains of food to work through, you’re smiling. It takes only a few seconds to find out why, following the arc of your eye up to a man in the same uniform as you.

The guy is tall and average-looking, and he keeps leaning toward you to talk like he doesn’t know how to speak loudly even though he works in a goddamn kitchen. Sasha doesn’t know him by face, or by word of mouth, since you’ve never told him about a co-worker that can make you giggle so much.

Why hadn’t you told Sasha about the funniest man of the century, huh?

More importantly, why hadn’t you noticed the way this asshole was looking at you? Staring so intently, exaggerating his expressions, mirroring you. All the same tricks Sasha has used before but with none of the grace, and yet somehow you liked it from this guy when Sasha had seemed scary to you.

He just can’t understand. That wouldn’t be such a problem if he hadn’t believed that he did understand you, and the way your mind worked. You had said Sasha was your friend and you had sat in the truth with him, relieved to see him for what he truly was, and you had been asking after his health and his happiness, wasting nights with him, cooking for him, cuddling up with him, and now here you were forgetting about his existence with another friend that he didn’t know about.

Sasha has been cheated on by a partner in the past. They left him one night and came back in the wee hours smelling like a fresh shower, with traces of someone else’s odor still clinging to them. It hadn’t felt like anything, to know that they were sneaking behind his back. Not a betrayal, no sting or ache in the heart he supposedly had. He broke up with them a week after, and that, like all his other breakups, was simply annoying. Sasha had always felt like he wasn’t with any of the people he was with. He was watching them, and touching them, and living among them, but there was some kind of invisible barrier between him and all the world. So when they broke a connection, well, what was there to even break? How could he care?

And why did being cheated on come to mind when he saw you happy with some other guy?

Sasha would later find out that you pulled a twelve hour shift that day, and, pushover that you were, you didn’t take a break long enough to check your phone. But he doesn’t stay to watch you, he really couldn’t. A pit had formed in his stomach, some void, some black hole that he had to attend to.

He leaves you there in your job and your apparent fun, none the wiser, and goes to the butcher. He gets himself a rack of ribs, and a few pounds of steak, and a heart just because the shop had one on hand and they were happy to serve a customer with such deep pockets as him. He gets a couple of cheeseburgers for the ride home and finishes them in a few bites.

As soon as he knows your other roommates aren’t home, he tears into the paper packaging of the prepared meats and gorges himself over the kitchen sink, soiling his shirt with myoglobin. It all tastes like ash, disappearing into him the way so many things do. When he’s done, when every last shred of flesh and sliver of bone has been swallowed, his stomach growls.

He’s always been this empty. Maybe that was the thing you saw that made you so afraid upon first meeting him—the bottomless trench that he actually was.

You said he was your friend. You knew what he was and didn’t back away. But you have so little else in your life. If you gained anything more, real friends, real family, a lover, wouldn’t someone as hollow and alien as Sasha be easily discarded?

There’s nothing for it. He has to go and hunt now.

Your co-worker is pitifully easy to discover. By checking the likes on your posts, he finds the creep has been hounding you for three weeks now. His unmitigated social media addiction leaves the entirety of his existence splatter across the internet. Sasha learns and forgets his name. He knows exactly what place he’ll be at tonight, with whom, for how long. He shifts to look exactly like you, heads out and stops at the right street corner with a bulky gym bag, waiting.

It’s so easy. Sasha can play You, but this guy hardly deserves all that effort. It’s enough to show up magically with your face, even if your clothes and piercings seem out of place. All Sasha has to do is bat lashes and flash a smile that he has already memorized—your stupid sincere grin that had made you, like the sun, difficult to look at directly—and this idiot thinks the person in front of him is really you, out on the same night by coincidence. He’s happy to see you, and happier still that you want to go somewhere together. He lets Sasha take him by the hand, convinced that the two of you are going out for drinks through innocuously empty backstreets. It doesn’t strike him as weird that you’re so energetic and flirty all of a sudden. Asshole.

He at least has the decency to carry the bag, no doubt hoping to come off as a gentleman.

“Why a duffel bag, anyway?” He marvels.

“To change clothes before I go home, silly,” Sasha tells him, leading him further into the night.

It turns out the co-worker is deeply uncomfortable with silence. He cracks jokes that aren’t funny, to which Sasha politely chuckles for what is only ten minutes but feels like an hour.

“When you kept turning me down,” he says, predictably, “I was worried you had a boyfriend or something.”

“Why would I not tell you if I had a boyfriend?” Sasha croons in your voice, fighting with all his will-power to not crush your co-worker’s hand. They’re finally on a quiet street, between two condemned houses, where there are no cameras and no pedestrians.

“Haha, I don’t know. You’re like, really private. That roommate you talk about all the time? The one going to the same school? I honestly feel like I know more about her than I know about you.”

“You mean, ‘him’? Sasha?” Sasha blinks owlishly with your eyes, his heart melting a little when he imagines you gushing about him to other people.

The guy laughs nervously. “No, I mean Maya. Is Sasha another roommate? Have you mentioned her before?”

Really. Maya. That “best friend” who basically pretends you don’t exist, who takes up valuable real estate in your mind when some people who have spent months getting to know you don’t even get a text.

Sasha gives up on looking friendly.

Your co-worker has finally sensed something is off, wincing as he tugs his hand out of Sasha’s vice-grip. Stretching out his fingers, he asks, “Hey, how much farther ‘til we get there? I swear we’ve passed like, three bars already...”

He doesn’t get to say more because Sasha lets out his teeth and goes for the throat.

It must be said that a warm meal always beats a cold one, but other that that it’s a shitty fare, gristly and lacking in flavor. This guy’s blood, fresh from the veins, is flat and forgettable. Even the marrow of his bones disappoints. At least he didn’t put up a fight...though maybe some enrichment could have saved this boring dinner.

Sasha feels more bloated than full when it’s all over. He wipes down and changes into fresh clothes, stuffing all the bloody garments into the duffel bag. He still feels kinda gross, and considers a long, hot shower while picking muscle fibers from between his teeth.

Are you going to worry about your co-worker? Are you going to miss him? Will you cry if they identify his blood on clothes found in the dump? Will you even tell Sasha why you’re crying?

Sasha snaps out of his deep thoughts when his phone buzzes. The text from you reads:

hey! i forgot to ask, are you on for crater county tonight?

What the fuck. Renewed frustration flushes through his system. What is he, your backup plan? He has a life—actually, many more lives than you! You should know better than to screw around with his time. He shouldn’t even dignify your bullshit with a response, but he does anyway—

At a party

And your answer is,

oh ok

we’ll watch it some other time

have fun!

…

Stay safe ok! Call me if you need something

It’s such a low blow he has to wonder if you’re doing it on purpose: you’re telling him all the same things he’s heard you tell Maya when she blows you off. He can hear the disappointment and embarrassment in your voice, the way you assure her of your eternal affection and concern while she practically dismisses you. Once he’s imagining your face, then, all he wants in the world is to look at it.

He’s a good runner. He’s barely out of breath when he arrives home, tossing aside his sweaty hoodie and kicking off his shoes while he quietly closes the door behind him. The dishwasher is running. He can just make out the low moan of the central air system, and one lazy heart thumping in the living room.

For a moment you don’t notice that Sasha is there. He gets to watch you quietly. You’re languishing on the couch in your bedclothes, staring blankly at the No Signal screen on the TV with a bowl of popcorn untouched on the coffee table. It surprises him. He hasn’t seen you with an expression this dull in a while.

But it disappears in an instant.

“Sasha!” You bolt upright, your face brightening like the sky at dawn when you find him standing in the doorway. “Did the party end already?”

He doesn’t know what to say.

You glance back at the TV. “Um, I swear I wasn’t going to watch without you! I was just…”

“Were you waiting for me?” He asks.

Your expression flickers, betraying the anxiety in your eyes before you have the chance to look away. Why did he even bother to ask? You’re here for him, like a puppy waiting for their owner, and suddenly he’s flushed and queasy—no, it’s not sickness that he feels, it’s butterflies. He’s so delighted he feels dumb, all of his frustration and embarrassing angst vanishing in an instant because all he can think of is how sweet you are.

“Ah,” he laughs dryly. “I’m screwed.”

Before you even know to cry out, he’s thrown himself at you, arms coiling around your waist. The two of you fall back on the couch.

When you get your bearings, you scold him. “Sasha, don’t just do that! You scared me!”

He mumbles, “I had a bad day.”

“...you did?” Your left hand cups his head, almost protectively, and your right strokes his back. “What happened? You’re not hurt, right? Are you hungry? I have some stuff in the fridge—”

“Can we just stay like this?” He asks.

“U-um. Well...” You must be thinking of your other roommates, who could walk in on this scene and “misunderstand” the relationship you have with him. You don’t want to cause weird rumors or tension. But he wants you so much he can’t pretend to be above it anymore. He squeezes you just a little bit, betraying his own desperation, so you say tenderly, “Of course we can.”

It’s scary to be honest. Sasha considers it contrary to his nature. However, he has never in his life avoided adapting or transforming to get what he wants. If he has to bare himself again to endear himself to you, he’ll do it.

“You’re the best friend I have,” he admits, “and I didn’t see you all day, and I missed you.”

Your heart quickens. “Sasha…”

“I know I’m being clingy. I just can’t help it. Say you missed me too. Say I matter to you.”

“I did miss you,” you murmur, your smile bleeding into your voice. You pull him closer. “It feels wrong when we don’t talk all day. And I worry about you, you know. I never see you make a proper meal.”

“I like it better when you make it. So keep cooking for me. Please.”

“I was going to do that anyway,” you say.

His whole body thrums with satisfaction. You care about him so much he can feel it all the way through. He’s soaking up your warmth and savoring your smell, face pressed into your neck. Twisting his hands into your shirt, he finds that he resents your clothes. He even resents your flesh and bones for barring direct access to your heart. Right now, though, he’s almost content with a body in his grasp, a pulse fluttering under his lips.

God help him, he’s been starving for this.

[taesansbeloved]

Whispers Among the Trees.

| Han Taesan X Reader

| Genre: high school, field trip au, introverted x extroverted

| warnings: I don't think there are any except for a cheesy confession. The use of 'my girl'.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Han Taesan and Lee Y/n. Best friends ever since they were 10. Taesan being the shy introverted kid, and you being the sunshine, happy pill child. You both met on a school field trip. Even though you both were in the same grade, you never noticed each other. To put it better, you never noticed Taesan as he was always quiet, and you can barely ever feel his presence. Taesan though have always been watching from afar. Watching how easygoing you were and how people were always attracted to you. How could you make friends in a span of 5 minutes after meeting them. He was mesmerized but never had the courage to speak to you.

When on that field trip, you noticed a quiet kid sitting under a tree, away from all the chaos and shielded from the blazing hot sun. Being the extroverted 10 year old you are, skipped your way to him and plopped yourself down next to him. Startled and shocked, Taesan looked at you with wide eyes and a confused frown. Ever since then, you have been Taesan's only friend who made him feel content and at peace.

"Boo!" You exclaimed, sneaking your way behind Taesan, who was putting away his things in his plain, non decorated locker. Now, you both were seniors in high school and still as closer as ever.

"Ah." Taesan said sarcastically, acting as if he's scared. After putting away the last thing, he turned to you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk that made your stomach twist. "You don't scare me, Y/n." He said, still having that annoying, stomach twisting smirk.

"Eh, worth a try." You said, adjusting your bag. "Why are you putting your things away? We haven't even started first period." You asked as it just clicked in your mind that you literally just arrived to school, and he's already putting his things away.

"I have biology for first period, and you know how heavy the biology books are." He answered simply as he showed you the inside of his bag that contains one thick biology textbook and a 500-page practice book.

"Biology? I thought you always had history for the first periods on Wednesdays." You said with a frown as you both started doing your daily ritual of Taesan walking you to your first period, which for today is english.

"I got it changed. I now have history as the period after lunch." He answered nonchalantly.

"Really?! We finally have a class together!" You exclaimed excitedly as Taesan watched with a small smile.

"For real? Never knew." He said, unconvince-ly. Taesan did infact know that you had history after lunch. That's the only reason why he changed it. Now look, he's not obsessed... he just simply wants to spend more time with his best friend. Also, it's all worth it for that contagious smile of yours.

"Oh, did you hear about that senior trip the school is doing?" You asked as you eyed Taesan's perfect side profile.

"Senior trip already?" He said with a groan. Taesan isn't the type for field trips or trips in general. He would rather stay home reading a book or listening to music preferably with you. Just the thought of having to see people other than you makes him grimace.

"Mhm. They're saying it's in the forest, which is not ideal as it's November. You know, wild animals and stuff. But, I bet it's gonna be so much fun. We can share a tent, roast marshmallows, and stay up till sunrise as you play that calming playlist of yours. Omg! It's gonna be so much fun! You have to go, I already planned our activities together. Pleasee." You ramble, already having the entire trip planned out.

Taesan turned his head away from you as a wide smile started making its way on his face. He loved hearing you talk, even if it's nonsense. Your voice is like music to him he could listen to it without ever getting bored. You rambling about the trip and all the plans you've already decided are gonna come true with him makes his heart flutter.

"I'll think about it." He said, the sound of him smiling still clear in his voice.

"Nuh-uh! You're not 'thinking about it'. You're GONNA come with me, alright? I don't take no as an answer. I'll see you at lunch! Bye, Sannie. Good luck!" You said, escaping quickly to the door of your english class that you two have reached.

Taesan let's out a quiet chuckle as he turned away and left for his biology class with you on his mind.

__

A few weeks have passed, and you and Taesan are on the bus to go to the woods.

"Bug spray?" You asked with raised eyebrows as you were rummaging through Taesan's bag. "Taesan, it's winter." You said, looking at the boy who sacrificed the window seat for you.

"You never know. Bugs are everywhere in the forest. You should thank me." He said, taking the bug spray out of your hands and hugs it close to him.

You shake your head as you continue looking through his bag. You pulled out a CD player that was lying at the bottom of his bag with bubble wrap around it.

"You said you wanted to listen to 'that calming playlist of mine' a few weeks ago, so I turned into a CD so we can listen to it together." He said, noticing your confused frown.

"Really? Omg, it better have that one Nirvana song!" You exclaimed.

"Yes, Y/n. It has 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' by Nirvana." He said with a soft smile. Taesan introduced you to that song during your sophomore year. It was the first time Taesan had opened up about his love for music, and eversince it has been your guys' song.

You nodded in content as you continued your rummaging.

After a few minutes on the road, you noticed Taesan's eyes kept getting heavier by the second. Without muttering a word, you guide his head to your shoulder as his body stiffens. "Sleep. We still have a long way to go." You said as you fixed his hair softly, moving it away from his face. Taesan grins as he snuggles deeper to your side, falling asleep with butterflies swarming his stomach.

__

"Hey, emo kid. We're here. Wake up! Hurry. I wanna get out." You said impatiently as you poked the crown of his head. He groaned as he removed his head from your shoulder and rubbed his eyes sleepily. You jump in your seat as the forest comes in sight.

"You can't be that excited. It's literally the forest. We can die here." Taesan said, sleep still clear in his tone.

"Stop being a buzz kill. This is gonna be fun, just like the old days." You said, a wide smile etched on your face.

Taesan tries to stop his smile from stretching more as he sees that beautiful, beautiful smile of yours.

"Come on." You said as you see people filing out of the bus. You squeezed your way through Taesan's legs as you were too excited to wait.

Taesan sighs with a smile as he picks up your and his bag that you left behind. 'Gosh. Lee Y/n, what are you doing to me?' He sighs deeply as he follows your steps out of the bus.

"Taesan! Do you want the yellow tent or the red tent?" You asked as soon as you saw the figure of Taesan in sight.

"Wait, we're building them our selves?" He asked, finally reaching you as he put both your bags down. He sees two tents with the colors you mentioned lying on the ground, waiting for somebody to assemble them.

"Yes, you diva. Of course, we're assembling them. That's the whole point of camping. So, which one?" You asked again, that gorgeous smile that makes his stomach do flips, still plastered on your face.

"I guess we can do red." He says as you both get to work.

"That doesn't make any sense!" You say, frustrated at the paper of instructions in your hands. You were now assembling the tent together, and while Taesan is doing a great job doing his part, you're stuck on the third step.

"Okay, there. What's going on?" Taesan asked, circling the tent to the side you were working on seeing it half not done.

"The stupid instructions say that I have to tie that part to that part, but if i tie that part to that part, then this part is just gonna collapse!" You say with pure frustration.

"Oh, sweetie. You did it wrong." You didn't like what that word did to you.

Taesan began fixing the parts you did wrong and explaining while doing so. You couldn't hear a word he's saying as you were just admiring him the entire time. You don't know when you started feeling like that, but the more time you spent with Taesan, the more you felt something deeper about him. You started getting nervous every time you were near him. You began studying his features more than your physics book. You.. like... Taesan.

"Hey, shorty. Are you there?" His sweet honey voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You look at him only to see him standing up straight, already finished with your side.

"Why did you do my side?" You asked, voice quiet as thoughts about him kept roaming through your head.

"Y/n, you messed up on the third step, and I'm tired. It's a win-win." He said as both of you looked around to see that it's dark and everybody has assembled their tents.

"Okay, everyone. In their tents! Take a rest cause we've got a long day tomorrow." Your home room teacher yelled as everyone got inside their tents.

"Come on." Taesan said, ushering you inside.

"Are you really gonna sleep?" You ask with a smirk, knowing Taesan's sleeping time is 4 in the morning.

"Absolutely not. You're also staying up. I need some company." He said with a fake scowl.

You chuckle as you both sit on top of your sleeping bags. Quietness taking over. Unlike most nights where the silence was comfortable and serene. This one carries tension, something unsaid looming in the air.

You glance at Taesan seeing him fiddling with his fingers, a habit he has whenever he's nervous. You both can tell how different the other has been. How rather than comfortably lying in each other's bed, it's been tense.

The atmosphere surrounding the tent was uncomfortable, which is uncommon for both of you. You decide that you've had enough. You're gonna say everything.

"Hey, Taesan," you began, already regretting speaking, "Can I speak to you about something?" You said, whispering unconsciously because of the quietness surrounding you.

Taesan's head shot up at the sound of your voice, shifting his attention away from his fingers. He nodded, telling you to go on, afraid to speak and reveal his feelings on accident.

"Okay, umm. You see. So.. I wanted to say that.. How do I put this into words?" You mutter, nervousness taking over completely.

Taesan's eyes softened as he watched your nervous figure try to come up with words. He shifts closer to you and gently puts his hand over yours. "Tell me." He whispered as the sound of trees and bushes being pushed by the wind surrounding you two.

"Okay, um. You see, I've been feeling weird lately. Not weird, like, um, confused. It's.." You sigh im defeat as you look down at Taesan's hand on top of yours. "You know what? I like you, Taesan, okay? And, I don't know when it started and how and why, even. But, I like it, and you've been on my mind every single second of the day. I go to sleep thinking about you. I wake up thinking about you. You're all I think about lately. And, look, if you don't like me back, that's completely fine. Oh god, you probably think I'm weird now. Oh no, I've ruined our friendship, haven't I?" You pull your hands away from Taesan's and cover your face, embarrassed.

Taesan was shocked, to say the least. His crush, best friend.. liked him back? He stayed silent, taking in all your words, which really didn't help your situation. His posture still, trying to come up with words that will describe the immense feeling of love he has for you.

"Can you say something?" You say, desperately, voice muffled against your palms.

Pulling Taesan out of his head, he looks at you again. Your tiny figure curled up with your face hidden in your hands. He slowly and gently pulls your hands away from your face to see that gorgeous face of yours. The frown on your face as clear as ever, showing your distraught state. "I.. don't know what to say... I don't think words will ever describe how much I love you, Y/n." He whispered as the confession hung itself in the air.

Your head shot up in his direction, searching his eyes for the word 'sike!" But, no. All you can see is genuine emotion. His eyes bore into yours with an intense and loveable gaze.

"Say sike right now." You whisper back, not believing.

Taesan lets out a chuckle as he shakes his head and scoots closer to you. "How can I when all I'm saying is true?" He whispered as the sound of the whooshing trees hung around you.

"For real?" You ask with wide, hopeful eyes.

Taesan nods, not able to bring words out of his mouth from the feeling of relief and euphoria.

"So..like.. are we a thing now?" You whispered, your normal self coming back but even happier.

"If you want to." He says, taking hold of your hand again, interlocking it with his.

"Well, of course I want to." You say, tightening your hold on Taesan's hand.

"My pretty girl." Taesan whispers, mostly to himself as he can't believe he's finally yours, and you're finally his.

"Omg, stopp" You say as you jokingly push his shoulder.

Taesan chuckles as he looks at you with heart eyes. Finally, after 8 years of admiring you from afar, you're finally his girl, his pretty girl.

___________________________________________________________________

AHHHHHHHH! First post! Hope you guys like it :>

[allbluemin]

Sorry if something doesn't make sense, english is not my first language.

Ever since I watched the new movie in the Planet of the Apes franchise two weeks ago, it has been living in my thoughts rent-free and completely dominating my cell phone history. I've read so many reviews, theories, watched behind-the-scenes videos and interviews (I'm the obsessive type who can't JUST like something and has to make it an addiction, a necessity in my daily life) and of course I haven't stopped researching here on tumblr either. And it was researching here that I discovered:

The ship noa x mae.... tan tan tan!!!🥁 (I couldn't resist, sorry)

Anyway, that's not specifically what I want to talk about. But I've also discovered the discussions you're having about the ship, and I come here to humbly ask you: please don't stop, it's been my greatest entertainment over the last few days😅😂😂

Joking aside, it's been very interesting for me to follow this, because I've been using tumblr for 2 years and it's the first time I've seen a debate about it, and let's face it, in 2 years you discover A LOT here, especially if you consume diverse subjects, like me. You always end up stumbling and falling into a hole... maybe a dark one... maybe a strange one... and maybe you'll never get out of it 💀💀

The point is, my curiosity has led me to start a survey focused mainly on exposing opinions about this ship, focusing on people who consume monster/human-related content and people who don't.

I have no intention of starting wild fights with insults and all, I'm just looking for numbers and statistics. I'll be posting a poll with these same tags so that you can vote and talk civilly, and attached to the post there will be a Google form with some more information to fill in and make it easier to analyze the data (all done anonymously of course).

If you can help me it would be super interesting, thank you in advance!!! <3

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

every breath you take

Paring: fem!reader × stalker!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, DUB-CON, stalking, drugging, dom!Nat, sub!reader, somnophilia, oral, fingering, pervy Nat, dark Nat, implied age gap (it’s me what did you expect)

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

Masterlist- kinktober

ꕀꕀ ─── ⋆⋅ ✨🌞✨ ⋅⋆─── ꕀꕀ

Natasha considered herself a great people watcher. Working in her own bookshop she never failed to give the best recommendations that somehow were always right. But her life was empty. Having had a rough childhood having healthy relationships was impossible for her. What even is a healthy relationship? The redhead thought to herself. Maria had called her obsessive and possessive and Wanda called her a creep when she found out about her photographing hobby. It was just her love language. Natasha loved her partners to death. If she could have them no one should.

The bell of the door rang announcing another customer and pulling Natasha out of her thoughts as she glanced around the bookshelf looking at the customer who had just found their way in her shop.

You were looking for something new to read and had found the old bookshop as a insider tip on instagram. You made your way through the halls between the bookshelves paying attention to the books instead of your way until you ran into another woman. “Oh lord I’m so sorry” You immediately excused as you looked at the redhead in front of you. The moment you crashed into Natasha you knew you were meant to be. “No problem” she smiled at you “You’re first time here. I’d remember a face like yours” her voice was husky, attractive in your ears. Natashas thoughts were running wild. Was this meant to be? A young drop dead gorgeous girl randomly running into her arm in her bookstore; this was fate she decided. “Correct, I’ve heard so much ever since I moved here I just got to check it out” you smiled back at her not knowing how dangerous the red head in front of you really had been.

How could you had been so careless, Natasha thought to herself as she let herself in through your widely opened window. Someone with bad intentions could’ve broken in not her of course she was only here to give you the protection you needed. She creeped through the shadows her steps barely audible. The door of your bedroom making a quiet creak as she slipped through the opening she had created. Her breath hitched as soon as your sleeping form was falling into her gaze. She could barely contain herself as she reached for her camera.

The shutter made awfully loud sounds but luckily Natasha prepared for that a few sleeping pills in your favorite wine and you were sleeping like a baby. She moved around your body taking more and more pictures. You always wore your panties and some oversized T-shirt to sleep making it an easy game for Natasha. Her hands found their way to the hem of your slowly pushing it over your chest. The older woman couldn’t help but groan as she took a look at your perky nipples slowly getting hard as the cold air caressed over it. She took another picture before setting the camera aside. Her thumbs rolling over the soft skin making you stir in your sleep. She smirked gently kissing your neck. Her touch seemed to have a big affect on you as you started to release small whimpers in your sleep.

Your hips seemed to a mind on its own as they buckled up in search of a form of release. Natashas eyes widen as she heard a moan of her name coming from your sweet lips. Had she gone completely mad? But her ears didn’t play a trick on her you moaned her name out yet again. You wanted his too, you needed this too she concluded. In a swift motion your panties were on the ground with Natasha making a mental note to put them again later. Your creamy thighs were over the read heads shoulders as she licked over your wet pussy. She hummed at the delicious taste of your juices on her pinkish tongue. She licked between your folds leaving nothing untouched as she speared her stick saliva over your core.

Her long fingers found your entrance as she slowly inserted a finger. You were tight maybe even too tight for a second finger and definitely too tight for her cock but that didn’t stop her in anyway. You just had to be stretched out properly and in Natashas mind she was just Her curvy nose nudged under the hood of your clit giving just the right stimulation.

Your hips buckled against her face as you slowly awoke from your slumber. Natasha was fast to respond leaving the spot between your thighs to press her cheek against yours comforting you to not wake further. Natasha wasn’t planning on going to jail anytime soon so she had to play this right. Her finger still curling inside of you. “W-what” you mumbled still in a sleepy state. “It’s just a dream bunny… just a dream” she shushed you in a soft voice “Natasha?” You whisper her face hovering over yours “just go back to sleep” you nodded closing your eyes again before falling back into your slumber. Natasha kissed her way back down her as she pushed a second finger in making you moan. It didn’t take her long until you were on the clenching around her delicate fingers. A few more strokes against your G- Spot until you released.

She took her time licking your sweet release from your thighs and cunt. She placed your discarded panties on your body again before tugging you in again kissing your forehead. “Until next time bunny” she whisper before disappearing into the shadows again.

The next morning you woke up to a strange dream. Natasha your bookstore crush how you referred to her to your friends screwing you into the mattress. You almost felt dirty for having such a detailed wet dream about a random bookstore owner who probably wasn’t even interested in you. But you’re body craved it. So you made your way towards her store a bit nervous but with a goal in mind.

“How can I help you Y/N” the red head said smirking like always. ”Well” you started stepping to the counter “It’s not about a book it’s a little more personal” you see Natashas eyes widen. Did you remember anything? She asked herself. “Go ahead” You took a deep breath preparing yourself for a rejection “Do you want to go on a date with me”

“Of course”

If you had only known.

:)

I do not own these characters all rights go to Marvel

[witch-and-her-witcher]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going! Thank you to everyone who tagged me and have had me in their inspo sections, I adore each and every one of you!

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

518,691 (hoping to add another 3-4k to this before midnight hehe)

I CANNOT drop that number without thanking the fucking dream team who has read EVERY SINGLE PUBLISHED WORD of mine: @popjunkie42 and @climbthemountain2020. From cheerleading, to pumping the breaks when my run ons be running, I appreciate the ever-loving hell out of both of you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Honorable mention betas who hold up that number: @cauldronblssd, @wilde-knight, @thesistersarcheron, and @rosanna-writer. I truly appreciate every one of you babes and your critical, brilliant eyes on my self indulgent streams of thought.

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

21! 13 of those were one shots.

If I can be real, I have two multi-chapter WIPs sitting in my docs, but it felt too irresponsible to post those once I started getting buried in grad school.

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Heading into the new year, I have 2 in progress fics: Ruin Me for the Fourth Wing fandom and Who's Gonna Know You Like Me? for ACOTAR.

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

Any of my poly fics! I really have to thank @acourtofladydeath for her beautiful brain child @polyacotarweek for getting me into the poly mind set. Although I only wrote throuples for that week (and since aside from the background Nesta/Eris/Azriel/Cassian in Who's Gonna Know You Like Me?), I am interested in writing more complex poly pairings in 2025.

I also can't leave out @yanny-77, @copperfirebird and @hockeyspiral23 for supporting the violaiden obsession! I adore writing the three of them together so so much and it's so fun to have others to share the brain rot with!

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I had never done a true canon rewrite before dripping in gold! It was so so fun taking an in text scene and making it queer as hell.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

It's undeniable that A Court of Chaos and Darkness's reception took me by surprise. From the moment I couldn't shake the concept of the fic to the over one hundred kudos it received before I took it off of anon. But even more so, the absolute comfort blanket this fic was as I wrote it was shocking. Something in the healing occurring, in the recognition of the complexity of parenting and the messiness of the parent/child relationship really struck me.

The fic @revenge??? I love you filthy azris lovers. This was an outlet for some of my dating app blunders and shenanigans and you all really said "serve."

And then there's my first omegaverse fic and the first of it's kind in the Fourth Wing ao3 tag (when it was posted, I believe there's several more now!): so what now? The Fourth Wing fandom has been warm as hell and so inviting to me, but you have all really embraced me bringing weird into the tags and I just can't thank you enough as I gape at the stats.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

Either of my sapphic fics: dripping in gold (genderbent feysand) and lunch. (morlain ft the mommy kink tag!)

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

There are so, so many talented artists that inspire me! @thrumugnyr, @copypastus , @queercontrarian and @lucychanart have been my muses for all things Tamlin. @climbthemountain2020 and @wilde-knight are triple threats and their art brings me such joy! There's also @dustjacketdraws that always has primo Cassian and Nesta vibes!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

There are SO many. First and foremost, my babe @popjunkie42. I love you, my muse. Something about reading your writing and just chatting with you inspires all of my ideas to flow. @asnowfern is another muse and writer I can always turn to for inspiration, we were just recalling her Turning Darkness Into Light elucien spooktober fic that tickles my imagination so much among her other works!

I'm inspired and impressed endlessly by @climbthemountain2020 ability to flawlessly produce well developed, gorgeously vivid stories.

@highlordofkrypton, @missfckingfortune and @beesays inspire me constantly with their raw talent and skill and for the first two, the hot and steamy smut they can turn out. @jules-writes-stories inspires me with her OC work and beautifully layered plots (Mithras, my toxic love.) @c-e-d-dreamer inspires me with her fun AU worlds, but also with her fearlessness to tackle toxic relationships - @secret-third-thing is in this same boat as well as @iftheshoef1tz, @foundress0fnothing, and of course the OGs @thesistersarcheron, @whisperingmidnights, @separatist-apologist and @the-lonelybarricade.

There are so many more of you. I love this community and the inspiration that flows all around your creative, galaxy brained minds.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

SO many, but those I haven't mentioned yet who are so so talented (but not limited to this list): @dusk-muse, @chairofchaos, @shadowsandlint, @xxvalkyriesxx, @fourteentrout, and @littedidyouknow.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

None this year, but the idea is fun!

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Could You Love Me While I Hate Myself is my proudest accomplishment this year by far. I always told myself I couldn't: write OCs, write a longfic, or write a fic that would ever break the UNBELIEVABLE stats this fic has done. I proved myself wrong on every front.

Thank you so much to @asnowfern, @popjunkie42 and @wilde-knight for seeing me through this capstone fic and for believing in me and helping me see myself in a totally different light.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

Be as silly and self-indulgent as possible.

If you have a killer idea/dialogue line/etc - WRITE IT DOWN. YOU WILL NOT REMEMBER IT LATER.

14. What is your advice?

Surround yourself with people who make you feel like you can accomplish anything and you will never fail because there they will be, gassing you up flop or not.

I love you, harem. Writing is so fun BECAUSE of you. <3

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Continuing to eat, serve and let the haters drown in it.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

i have been obsessing over this extremely short moment post-sunshot campaign for weeks now trying to put together a lengthier post about it, but i think the screenshots themselves arranged chronologically speak for themselves. so i will just post them and then talk about the framing, because i’m insane about it.

just about everyone else on this side of the banquet hall within the scorching sun palace is looking towards jin guangshan as he speaks—everyone except for:

1) jin guangyao, who is staring straight ahead with a startlingly flat and resigned expression on his face, despite being seated in a position of honour beside his brother, and

2) nie huaisang, who is obviously TRYING to pay attention, but his attention keeps wandering between looking at nie mingjue, and looking at jin guangyao

(also he gets no further commentary/acknowledgement from me but look at jin zixun back there just lounging in his seat like a smug spoiled brat. ugh. step on legos forever jin zixun.)

the camera shifts its focus while jgs keeps talking to zero in on jgy’s expression. this deliberately highlights and provides us the chance to see his expression in more detail. and it is so hard to discern what he is feeling specifically beyond “not great,” but what stands out for me is: he isn’t wearing his usual polite, customer service mask, the one he managed to keep in place both during the introductory sequence at the cloud recesses in the face of so much mockery from the jiang sect disciples.

so what is that expression? what is going on in his head that he can’t play the part that he’s perfect for years now, when he has supposedly almost achieved everything he ever dreamed of accomplishing for himself and his mother? i mean, i have my suspicions of course, because we know what is going to happen very soon.

and then—

—the focus of this scene changes, drawing our attention away from jin guangyao towards nie huaisang where he’s seated just behind nie mingjue. because nie huaisang is not paying attention to jgs’s speech or watching his da-ge. unlike everyone else in this banquet hall in this moment, nie huaisang is looking at jin guangyao, observing him in this moment where his polite mien has failed him, and god what i wouldn’t give to know what is going through his head!! because:

1) i don’t for a moment believe nmj told nhs the details of what transpired between him and jgy during their confrontation in the scorching sun palace. i don’t think he did this as a favour to jgy or to lxc, either. imo this decision would be consistent with nmj shutting down any discussion of what caused him to exile meng yao from the unclean realm back in… uhhh, episode 10?? when nhs, wwx and jc all converge in the unclean realm throne room to ask about meng yao’s fate. (yeah it was episode 10.) anyway for all we know this is the first time nhs has seen his old body guard/babysitter since he watched meng yao totter feebly into the wild blue yonder all those months ago, and now here he is seated in a place of honour between jin zixuan and his da-ge, looking perhaps even more miserable than he did while bleeding from a giant sword wound in his chest. it is entirely consistent with nhs’s character to be like ‘???? what is up with this??’ but not even he is bold enough to ask jgy what is up in the middle of this banquet, not with da-ge right there.

2) his expression is ALSO harder to read than it would have been when they were last together!! but there are clearly gears and cogs shifting and ticking and whirring behind his eyes, and the fact that the framing calls attention to nhs noticing jgy in this moment when it’s quite clear no one else does is one of many hints the show is dropping for us that nhs is more than just a lackadaisical and absent-minded second son. he notices things that no one else does—but, as with jgy, we are left to guessing as to what he is thinking, and what conclusions he is drawing.

well okay it looks like i managed to write a lot of words down about this after all!! go me.

[featherandferns]

fascinating new thing : where are they now?

jj maybank x shy!kook!reader | see these inbox messages for points of inspiration: 1 2 3

word count: 2k.

read fascinating new thing | Thank you so so much for 1000 followers!!! Since starting this blog in May of 2023, I have written so many characters and storylines. I get so many lovely anon messages telling me about their favourite universes and wondering what happens next after my fics have ended. So, I thought to celebrate 1000 followers, I’d indulge. Here’s the (current) where are they now for all of my fics so far…

It’s times like these - standing on an obnoxiously over-sized stage, staring out at more people than you can count who have been screaming your name and your lyrics for the past two hours - when your life feels particularly surreal. You wonder if you’ll ever get used to the feeling of hearing your songs on the radio, or seeing someone break down in tears in the front row of your gig, or scrolling through Twitter and Instagram to find fan-edits galore. Maybe it would be the same as the anxiety, which shrunk just the smallest amount with every show.

Despite your crippling social skills, you never feared the stage. It was the only place where you felt truly comfortable in yourself. You were sure that it helped having Pansy by your side, even now. Whenever you feel yourself slipping away, you’d grapple at the microphone with one hand as if it were a buoy and you were floating helplessly in the middle of the sea, and then you’d look to Pansy. Her wildness from youth hasn't disappeared despite the years and fame. She grins at you just the same as always. Celebrates every concert and every milestone with the same fever that she did when you first played at the Wreck. 

As you neared your twenty-second birthday, you had three official albums released into the world. The latest had made the Billboard charts. Whilst the lyrics flourished, and the production improved, and the vocality developed, one thing stayed the same: JJ was almost always at the forefront of your mind. 

The fans were almost as obsessed with JJ as you. You were gobsmacked the first time you saw some ‘stalker pics’ of the two of you on a date. Whenever he’d make it to one of your shows (which he always tried to do), the fans would have eagle vision and try to spot him. Gauge his reactions and document his pride. And, boy, was he proud. He showed you off like a diamond ring; boasted about you at work and at the surf break. Brought you up in any and all conversations (at least according to the Pogues). One video in particular went viral. Some paparazzi guy had caught him in the street when he was running errands in Kildare. It still felt bizarre to have paparazzi chasing you and your loved ones down. They asked him what he thought of the songs on your latest album. In the video, JJ pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, smirking. They’re all about me, man: what’s not to like about it.  

After seeing the overwhelming positive reaction to you and your boyfriend, you’d started to acknowledge him openly at shows. It wasn’t that you hadn’t taken notice of him before. He was always there - calming you down before and grounding you after - and you always sought him out. Couldn’t settle until you knew where he was. But now, instead of a fleeting glance and a shy smile, you would point him out. Slyly giving a nod to him when announcing the next song: this one’s about a certain someone - you know who you are. The fans ate it up but more importantly, JJ loved it. 

And whilst having thousands of random strangers screaming your songs at you was an insurmountable feeling that you couldn’t ever place into words, it would never top the experience of singing your songs to JJ. He heard them first. Every single one. 

“Come on then,” JJ says, flopping beside you on the sofa. Despite all the money you’d garnered, the two of you stayed in the Cut on Kildare. You always preferred it over Figure Eight. “Let’s hear it.”

“It’s not done yet,” you tell him as you tune your acoustic guitar. 

JJ stuffs another one of your home baked cookies into his mouth with a roll of his eyes. “Like I’d care.”

You smile bashfully at that. You sometimes wondered if JJ was as happy for you as he seemed to be. The fame and money and attention on you hadn’t changed you - at least you didn’t think it had - but it had changed the world around you. That was out of your control. What people said about you, about him, about your relationship and your life together - you didn’t have any control over that. Your schedule became busy with studio sessions and meetings and practice and touring. Hell, there were already musings of doing a tour in Europe next year. You imagined it to be a lot for JJ; would be enough to build resentment in Mother Teresa. But he begged to hear your songs. Tagged along to rehearsals and snuck into the studio. Made it to as many concerts as his job allowed. 

Besides, it wasn’t like JJ was without fame. Himself and the Pogues had found El Do-freaking-rado whilst you and The Wallflowers had been gaining traction. Now he had his dream surf shop which kept him occupied. The financial stability that your combined enterprises allowed meant life was easy to enjoy. And enjoy it, you did. 

You take a tentative strum of the guitar strings, clearing your throat and mind. Glancing down to watch your fingers take placement for the first chord, you begin to play the melody. You could feel JJ’s gaze on you, steady and unwavering, and despite your long-standing relationship, it still made you feel as giddy as the first night at The Wreck. 

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January…”

You begin to sing. Hesitant at first (as if you’d never played for him before), then confident as the song went on. The lyrics which were still in the scaffolding stages were replaced with half-formed words in melodic hums. You could see JJ’s foot tapping along to the beat in your peripheral vision and it made you smile, serene and sweet, safe in the bubble the two of you had created in the two bedroomed house by the marsh. 

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever. Take me out and take me home.”

Looking up at him, you find his smile mirrors yours. The emotion in his eyes is saved only for you. You get his wildness, his mood swings, his recklessness, his devotion and his love. You get all of him. 

“You’re my, my, my, my…Lover.”

JJ chuckles at that, clearly flustered. Again, after all these years, you can’t believe you of all people have that effect on him. You continue the song, giggling as you trip over a chord, lost in his gaze, heart thrumming happily. He plays into some lyrics, twisting the amorous moment into the most magical of lights. 

“You’ll save all your dirtiest jokes me for me.” 

JJ smiles proudly, crossing his heart as if making a promise. You manage the next line out through your laughter. 

“And at every table, I’ll save you a seat. Lover…”

You conclude the song with a final, definitive strum. JJ erupts into applause, whooping and hollering like he was at a Red Sox game or something. You laugh, bashful, and unhook your guitar from around you. 

“Best damn song you’ve ever written!”

“You say that about all the songs,” you reply, brushing off his compliment. Yes, it seems JJ’s so-called lifelong venture of getting you to accept a compliment was still underway. 

“That going on the new album?” JJ asks. He leans forward to the coffee table, passing your half-full glass of wine to you. 

You nod. “We’re working on the track-list now, actually.”

“You gonna sneak that song in there about Kiara and Pansy?”

“I think Pansy would kill me if I didn’t,” you reply back, making JJ laugh. He nods, making a face of ‘yeah, you’re probably right there’ and sips his beer.

Pansy and Kie hooking up didn’t catch anyone by surprise. It was sweet seeing them so loved up. So, you broke your tradition of writing songs purely about JJ for her. In fact, you’d been branching out more and more, writing about other people and other things. Mike and his now ex-girlfriend, and the world’s messiest break-up, were the basis to one of your best selling tracks: We Are Never Getting Back Together. The sudden rise to fame and all the prying eyes and ears that came with it was inspiration to another from the same album: Nothing New. And now Kie and Pansy, with It’s Nice to Have a Friend.  

Carefully leaning your guitar against the sofa, you place your wine down and shuffle to cuddle into JJ’s hold. His fingers leisurely stroke your hairline, teasing at your hair. No matter the money, he wore the same cologne. He’d tried fancier but after you admitted that it didn’t smell like him somehow, he went back to the old, cheap stuff. 

“I’m real proud of you, y’know?” 

“I know,” you mumble, smiling into his t-shirt. 

“And I’m always gonna be here for you, right? Through the good and the bad?”

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, a little worried as to where this was coming from. 

JJ takes in a breath. It sounds almost anxious and tense. Then, he’s shuffling around, digging for something in his back pocket, and you’re left with no choice but to move off him. Sitting back on your haunches, you watch him with furrowed brows. They knit tighter when he lowers himself onto the wooden floorboards. And then all of a sudden, in the cosy, lamp-lit living room of your shared home, you watch the literal man of your childhood dreams reveal a black velvet box. 

He swallows thickly. His fingers shake as he struggles to open the box. Looking up at you, anxiety swimming in his eyes (which were the inspiration to countless songs), JJ gives a mousy smile. He breathes out your name like reading an ancient, honourable scripture. Tears brim your eyes. A hand lifts to your gaping mouth. 

“I have been in love with you from the minute I saw you singing at The Wreck, back when we were sixteen. For whatever God damn reason, you gave me - a broke-ass idiot from the Cut with about two-dollars to my name and a pretty bad reputation - a chance. And you changed my life forever. Honestly, I don’t know what my life would feel like without you. I hope I never do, really, cause you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.  I mean, when you find a girl who writes songs about you, you kinda have to stick around, right?” 

You give a soggy laugh, sniffling and barely nodding. 

JJ grins, chuckling through his nerves. 

“So, I guess…Will you marry me?”

Tongue-tied like always, you struggle to find the words. No, not words. One word. One very important word. So, you nod frantically. And finally, it comes. 

“Yes,” you choke. “Yes! Yes!”

You’re worried you sound a little pushy, tentatively tagging on, “please.”

JJ barks out a laugh. He wipes at his eyes, mumbling about how he wasn’t going to be a sap, and takes the ring from its cushion. You hold out a quivering hand and let him slot it on. 

“Sorry. ‘M kinda clammy,” you mumble. 

JJ sniffs and laughs and nods. “S’fine, baby.”

You admire the ring in all its glory. Despite his El-Dorado success, the ring isn’t over the top. It’s exactly what you dreamed it to be. Beautiful in its simplicity. Understated and classy. You launch yourself at JJ. He catches you with a laugh, somehow keeping his balance, and embraces you like you might float away. God, you feel like you could. Everything in life is so perfect. Your band, your fame, your talent and your partner: it’s just perfect. 

Pressing your lips to his, you can't keep the joyful tears from falling. JJ cradles your face when you break apart, staring deeply into your eyes in a way that would have fifteen-year-old you crippled and crying on the floor. 

“I’ll marry you, JJ Maybank.”

[a-certain-romance]

Don’t be surprised when you get bent over

Characters/Ships: Ei, Miko, & Jean x fem!reader

Synopsis: You can’t avoid them forever <3

Warnings: Smut written by a minor, fingering (Miko), some somno (Ei), oral R receiving (Ei), overstimulation (Ei), teasing (Jean), face-sitting (Jean)

Ei wouldn’t call it an obsession. You’ve been slowly introducing her to Kamera mechanisms and she’s been hooked ever since. Her curiosity since her time spent with the traveler has been eye-opening, and as a surprise gift to Ei you went out and bought her one. She never really had much free time as it is, and now her hobby draws her to every small crevice of Inazuma. She finds herself accompanying her soldiers to various military camps or meetings with small villages, and not only do the experiences enhance her skills but it also becomes a way for Ei to re-familiarizes herself with Inazuma’s culture and landscape.

You support her, obviously, until it starts to keep her out of the bed. Despite her day time exploration the one thing you can always count on (unless she was on a long trip) was that she would meet you in bed and hold you until the both of you fell asleep. But now Ei is out in the middle of the night focusing on the stars, while you shiver in a bed that lacks Ei’s warmth.

Hatching a plan to get her attention was fairly simple; all it took was a lewd promise for her to come running. You spent the entire day out, not on the streets in the city but wandering around in the plains and cozying up to the wild foxes. You debated whether to not Ei would be home once the sun set, but then you remembered that tonight was supposed to be a full moon, and figured Ei would want to photograph that as well. You went to sleep early after finishing a meal prepped by the cooks and didn’t think of much else.

As you slept, you had the best dream about Ei. She tied you up to the bed posts and was eating you out as if she were starving for you. Her tongue felt so soft yet firm on your clit as she licked away at your cunt. And the best part was that it felt so real. Every swipe of her tongue left you feeling in so much bliss. But the sounds were getting echoey, and the spike of pleasure felt too good to be just a dream.

You opened your eyes to find that your arms were in fact restrained: wrists tied around in intricate little bows, just how long were you asleep? Your lower half remained free, but was extremely sore and sensitive. Ei’s arms hooked possessively around your legs, her head buried between them as the rest lay limp over her shoulders.

Your movement brings her back from her haze. Her lustful eyes, her cocky grin; fuck you can feel yourself dripping at just the sight of her.

“At last, you’re awake. You make the cutest expressions when you asleep, did you know that?” Those last few words were mumbled in your pussy, sending shockwaves of pleasure. Ei chuckles against you, “Though I suppose that is from my doing”

Her tongue moved around you, paying extra special attention to your sensitive clit. You whine and dig your heels into her back as you start to grind against her face. Your thrusts, almost automatically, start to speed up and soon Ei is licking up your mess.

Just as you’re catching your breath, Ei replaces her tongue with her fingers against your pussy lips. “I intend to keep you up til dawn,” Ei eyes bore into your own as she looks up at you from above your navel,

“A shogun doesn’t back down on her word”

Like Ei, Jean’s ignorance comes from a new hobby as well. You’ve noticed that Jean’s mental fatigue has been increasing for a while now. She’s been dealing with the stress in more physical ways: meditation, training, massages from you that sometimes lead to more. Yet she can’t shake off the feeling that wears her down at the days end.

You’re a library aide, training to become a librarian alongside Lisa. During one of your afternoon tea breaks she brings up the idea of reading. You dismiss it at first, Jean has always sighed that there was just not enough hours in the day for something like that, but after some consideration you took Lisa’s advice to heart. During one of her (forced) breaks you gifted Jean one of your favorites.

Suffice to say she was in and out of the Library nearly every other day. Jean feverishly flies through books every time she finishes another draining report. And every time she reaches the back cover you are always there to greet her when she comes in for a new one.

She’s been extremely invested in all these little worlds, but has slowly been less and less invested in your relationship. You’re extremely happy that Jean’s taking the time to nourish this new side of her, but sometimes she forgets to make the time for you too.

Jean can be rather clueless sometimes. It’s not as if you’ve tried to stop her, but she’s oblivious to the hints you drop. It’s been weeks since you’ve last been on a date, and the most interaction you get from her is when you see her at the library. Even when you’re back home, it’s like she’s a ghost, only ever feeling her presence when she’s nearby. And that’s if she has the energy to not collapse immediately she she hits the sheets.

The next time Jean comes in through those library doors you make sure to slip a note in the next book you give her.

Now you’re the one who’s occupied throughout the day. Even Lisa starts to question your spark of work ethic and Jean’s prolonged visits, but it’s the only time she can hope to catch you off guard since she’s so tired after a long days work. And there’s so many close calls, you would’ve let Jean take you against the tables had it not been for Lisa’s watchful eye.

Jean can’t take it anymore. She nearly lost it during this trip. Jean forced herself to sneak in before closing because one of her many library books, one that she nearly forgot about, was about to be due the next day, and she didn’t want to suffer Lisa’s wrath. But there was no Lisa in sight, just the two of you alone in the big, empty library.

Apologies spilled out of her mouth filled with promises to manage her time and attention better and begged, begged, for your forgiveness. You accept and become trapped as she bend you against one of the library tables.

Even though you were aching for her touch this was still your workplace, and the shame of cleaning up cum from the tables would embarrass you to no end, especially if Lisa happened to see. You walk home together and she spends that time teasing and discreetly touching you.

When you get home she pulls you flush against her chest and kisses your cheek sensually. Her hand hold the back of your neck gently as she twirls around a few baby hairs. Her mouth goes to your lips and you feel her tongue run along the bottom of your lip. The second you allow entrance she picks you up and carries you bridal style to set you down on the bed.

As she lays her weigh on top of you her knee presses right up against your heat. She pulls back to take a breath, and goes back in right after. It’s a slow make-out session, one that you weren’t expecting after how Jean’s been acting’s. You guide her hand to your panties but she stops short.

“In a rush, are we? Aren’t you forgetting we have all night?”

“We nearly did it at the library, I’m sure you’re as pent up as I am”

“Maybe so,” she says as she un-do’s the buttons of your shirt, “but it’s only fair after that stunt you pulled. I finally have you alone now, I want to make the most of it.”

She leans in to whisper in your ear, “If you cum before I say you can, there’ll be serious repercussions .”

She maneuvers you both so that you rest your pussy on her face. She lets you control the pace, control the rhythm and control how deep you want to go. But that statement was her only warning. And when your mind gets fuzzy from all the stimulation you forget about the rule, that one rule.

When you get back down to the mattress Jean is tsking.

“Looks like we really do have a long night ahead of us”

Yae Miko is such a tease

One second her hands are all over you as she whispers dirty things into your ear and the next, she’s laughing at your expression and walking away. She loves how you give into her so quickly. It made her wonder how you would fair if she were to cut off her affections all at once.

She’d cling to your arm in public and and act as if you were a stranger behind closed doors. Why? Her own curiosity of course. The psychology of humans will never not be of great entertainment for her. And, it’s been so long since she’s seen you so desperate.

You’ve had enough of her testing your resolve, so you decided to do the same. As Miko slept, you wrote a neat little message in an envelope and, in the morning, instructed a shrine maiden to deliver it to Miko. And once the plan was set in stone, you remain sure that bringing out Miko’s competitive side will make her end this whole…experiment.

You avoided that room like the plague. Despite her attempts to catch you off guard you know her well enough to predict her next move. Indoors it was like a game of chess, and outside a game of cat and mouse. This competition lasted for days. Both too stubborn to give in and both too filled with more tension than they can handle.

You came back home during the evening when you knew Miko was busy with shrine duties. You heard from an acquaintance that Miko was held up in her office with paperwork and would probably not finish until later.

Deciding to relax, you recline onto the bed for a break. You breathe in the sweet scent of Sakura blossoms from Miko’s pillow and realize how lonely the past few days have been. Sure, the competition and the tricks were sometimes fun but what you really missed was seeing the want in her eyes.

You pull off your shirt and unhook your bra, gasping at how the cool air brushes your nipples. You grope your breasts while thinking of the perfect, pink-haired Yokai who’s captured your heart. You imagine what it would feel like if she were here right now. Her touch is magnetic, you dream of it as you circle your finger around your nipple. The image of what Miko would do to you fills your mind and sends heat straight to your core. The hand that isn’t occupied with your boob grazes between your legs and you whine out “Miko”.

The door bursts open. “And so the mouse has been caught. You’ve surprised me, I did not think you would last for this long.“ She removes your hand and replaces it with you fingers.

“But I knew you had to come home eventually, and it seems the story I planted worked”. Her fingers begin to pump into you at a steady rhythm. “Turn around for me”

When you flip onto your stomach she slightly hovers over you, running her hands along your backside, admiring your beauty. “It’s been so long hasn’t it? Truth be told, I believe the wait makes it worth the while”. Her fingers return to your cunt and resume their thrusts, only much faster this time.

He fingers hit harder and deeper into you, sliding across all the right places. But before letting you finish she slows down her movements to an almost lazy pace. She simply laughs at your confusion, “You have all night to cum, why rush it?”

[yuri-wan-shi-tong]

Let's talk about S2 Arcane Jayce and Viktor.

SEASON SPOILERS FOR S2 OF ARCANE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. (stop reading this Rain <3) I fucking love these two in this season, I loved them in the last season, but it feels like the story is wrapping itself around them and their hextech dilemma. The themes of love and acceptance from the first season that wrapped itself around the main sisters is now given to us in a new context. Same problem, different people. (the sisters still have it happening to them in this season, but I feel like Jayce and Viktor represent the Piltover/Zaun rift better than the other characters in this season.) Viktor represents Zaun's desire to change, to grow. Jayce represents Piltover's refusal to change, a love for the status quo. In the first season they were partners, pushing for the same goal of progressing Hextech, but that changed after the bridge scene.

I love this scene. Whereas Vander or now Jinx might be Zaun's idea of the perfect Zaunite, Viktor is what Piltover believes to be the perfect Zaunite. Viktor is literally the model minority. Kept his head down, worked hard, became a success story that Piltover can use to further oppress other Zaunites who did not achieve his level of brilliance. Viktor however, never realized this. Until the bridge. He thought Jayce loved him and respected him for being who he was. His identity as a kid from Zaun is completely tied to who he is now, and his life's work is to literally rid himself of a condition he got in the streets of Zaun. He thought Jayce took that into account and was supporting him. Then on the bridge he heard Jayce call his people dangerous, he saw that Jayce ordered the blockades. Jayce himself hesitated and recoiled when Viktor said "I'm from Zaun." Jayce LITERALLY FORGOT one of Viktor's key aspects of his identity. He either forgot or is going to say the phrase, "you're not like them." Which is a goddamn slap in the face either way.

At this moment, Viktor has been betrayed by his body, by the people around him, by the institution he's helping. No one respects or supports the human individual he is, only his title. The only one who cared for his individuality was Skye, and he fucking killed her because he was so obsessed with his work. He has wanted his entire life to change, to become different, to grow. In his own words, "To evolve."

Jayce on the other hand has only found success. He's the Protector of Tomorrow, the Golden Boy, the academy's best, a seat on the council, he has speeches and rallies, the entirety of Piltover loves him. He literally cannot see passed his adoration to notice what's actually wrong. He doesn't want himself to change, he wants to stay the same, he wants Piltover to stay the same. There's a whole disturbance in Zaun, but overcoming that problem to him means that Piltover will stay the same. Enter the Hexcore and the Wild Rune.

The Arcane literally gives the two men what they were searching for. Magic. You wanted to find this? To harness it for yourself using technology? Sure bud, here ya go. Just so you know everything after this moment changes. You will no longer be you, you'll be someone else after this. The power is yours, take it. Your concerns right now will be in the past, they won't be important to you anymore. Viktor, dead from Jinx's rocket at the end of S1, lying in a tub of eldritch bathwater, is shown this. He's shown the Arcane, the secrets that they've been chasing, and he accepts. He takes the power, he embraces change. After all, it's what he's been trying to do to his body ever since he was a kid. He has no love in Piltover anymore, nothing holding him back from walking a different road. He arises like fucking Jesus from his tomb into the hottest goddamn character design I've seen so far. I love me a sickly looking twink.

He leaves Piltover. There's nothing for him there. He wanders Zaun, trailing after the remnants of Skye still in his mind and heart and Hexcore. He finds those in Zaun just like him, suffering afflictions and disease, and he realizes he's past that. He's no longer that man. There's so much more to the world and life and experience than that. "So much needless suffering." He says. He takes those shimmer afflicted and "cures" them. Bringing them out of their humanity and into something new. He, and his followers, don't need their humanity anymore, it wasn't doing anything for them. They progress and continue down this "glorious final evolution." Jayce on the other hand rejects this.

He's shown the Arcane. He's given the same option to change or keep things the same, and unlike Viktor, he quite likes how things are. They worked out for him. He doesn't want to change, he doesn't want Piltover to change, and this new power threatens it. He turns against it, smashing Salo/Viktor when he wakes up, because he can see the evolved humans behind their shining eyes, the husks of creatures beyond humanity. He's scared of it.

These two men started this Hextech project with different goals and perspectives, and they managed to not get in the way of the other until now, and what a way to highlight again in a different lens the oppression of Piltover and the desire for freedom of Zaun. Arcane has always been about love and acceptance, and the lengths those without it will go for it, and the lengths those with it will go to protect it. There was always going to be a dividing rift between the man who has it all and the man who has nothing, and so far it's ending in the exact way it only can, with a hole in someone's chest. I cannot wait for Act 3.

[desertfangs]

Is it possible you never knew? [AO3]

Armand/Daniel (with Marius/Daniel and some minor Armand/Marius) - Mature - 5,181 words

As Daniel starts to recover from his madness, Armand pays a visit to the little house in Norway where Marius and Daniel are living, and Daniel worries about what his maker will make of him now.

This is a fic I've been writing on and off in my head since I wrote Into the Midst of Madness but I was never sure if I thought Armand had actually seen him at all during this time. Of course, a lot has changed in my opinion since I wrote that fic and I would probably change a lot of things about it now. After rereading Blood and Gold, TVA, and some of Anne's notes, I decided that yeah, I actually do think they had some contact before PL. Still undecided on how much or how frequent, but it now feels more likely to me that visits such as these occurred.

Anyhow, I digress. I could talk about this stuff and the wonky timeline of it all for hours. (Please hit me up if you ever want to discuss this stuff, it's wild.)

The title comes from a line in the Devil's Minion chapter that felt exceptionally relevant here.

Short Excerpt:

Daniel’s mind is clear. He’s not entirely used to the feeling, but he likes not being mired in a mental fog all the time or singularly obsessive over one thing.

He’s been feeling better for weeks. He’s still building his models most nights, but he’s paying more attention to the radio Marius that left in his work room, actually listening to some of the programs. Occasionally he comes out and sits on the sofa with Marius and they watch an episode of some old sitcom. 

And now, finally, after over a month of Daniel feeling more present and comfortable in his own mind, where he can focus on things besides the models in front of him and the need for blood, he dares to hope he might be improving. 

Marius says as much, speaking the thought into existence as he ruffles Daniel’s short blond hair one night. Neither of them will say that he’s recovered, but they can both agree he’s further along in the process. 

Armand takes the news by deciding to visit. 

Daniel isn’t sure how he feels about it at first. He longs to see him, of course, but he’s anxious about being seen. The Mad Fledgling, the one who giggled his way through his immortal rebirth and lost his goddamn mind. The only one Armand ever turned and Daniel can’t help but wonder if he regrets it. 

He fears he regrets it. 

He fears it every time they have a stilted phone conversation, every time Armand hurries off the line, every time he thinks of their last fight, or how Armand tried to end it all. 

He tries hard not to think of these things, but sometimes the thoughts are inescapable and all-consuming. 

And now with him coming here, there’s nowhere to hide. Daniel is what he is. Almost two decades in the blood and already a mess.

“Not a mess,” Marius assures him, a gentle kiss to his temple as he dresses Daniel in his finest pair of jeans and a brand new polo shirt. He stands behind Daniel in the mirror. Daniel stares at his reflection: a pale young man in his early thirties whose violet eyes shine with preternatural light, whose long fingers tap nervously against the dark denim on his thigh. His short hair falls neatly into place. 

Immortal, forever.

Or as long as he can stand it, anyhow.

“Don’t be morose,” Marius chastises, answering his thoughts out loud. Getting Daniel to speak out loud, to vocalize his thoughts, is part of his recovery. 

“I’m not,” Daniel mutters.

He has no desire to end things. He’s finally coming out of a very long, dark tunnel and seeing the light again. It’s a new lease on forever. 

But there’s that nagging fear that he won’t measure up in Armand’s estimation. That his heart will be weighed and found lacking.

“You’re perfect.” Marius claps him on the shoulders. 

Daniel snorts, laughing slightly as he pulls away.

The doorbell rings. 

He’s early. 

Read the Rest on AO3

[letteredlettered]

Hi Im sure you answered this already but i sadly cant find it: how did end up shipping or rather writing drarry fics?

I've actually been asked quite a few times why I ship H/D. I never answer, because it's complicated and long and I have an essay on the subject, so I'll answer the 'how' question without addressing the 'why'.

Once upon a time, the internet was becoming a thing that people used regularly. The news kept talking about how the youths of the day were "surfing the 'net" and this was going to be the new normal. As usual, I could not identify with the 'youths of the day,' even though I was one. What could possibly be of interest to me on the internet? Reading books was far better than talking to other people. Then one day in my senior year of high school it dawned on me that you could possibly talk to other people about books, something I had never done before, as I didn't know anyone but my parents and brothers who ever read for fun, and my parents and brothers did not like to read things like Jane Austen. What if there were people on the 'net who liked Jane Austen??? Seemed fake, but I gave it a try.

The first Jane Austen website I found was Republic of Pemberley, which hosted something they called "Bits of Ivory." Through the "Ramble" board on Republic of Pemberley, I found out that there were "Bits of Ivory" elsewhere. It was called fanfic and hosted on fanfic.net.

Almost all of it that I was introduced to was Harry Potter fic, as HP was the megafandom of the time, and my Sense and Sensibility friend was obsessed with Snape, mainly because of Alan Rickman. I was also obsessed with Snape, though I must say that even though I had been obsessed with Alan Rickman since 1995, I never did like his casting as Snape and still don't. Anyway, I ended up getting interested in Snape/Hermione fic, and continued to be interested on and off for over the next five years.

I should pause at this moment to say that I had been writing fanfic since the fourth grade. I didn't know it was called fic. I didn't know other people did it. It never occurred to me to share it. When I found "Bits of Ivory" it actually took me a while to process that the stories there were in a similar vein to the stories I had been writing all my life, stories based on fiction by other people. It was just so wild to me that anyone would share that stuff, as though other people would want to read the different endings that they came up with, the self-inserts and the cross-overs they came up with.

I should also take this moment to say that I didn't really have slash ships. I was aware that slash existed, and I thought it was great. Sirius/Remus was a background ship everywhere at the time, and even though I didn't really see it in canon and wasn't terribly interested in it, I thought it was a nice thing. And when I started getting into X-Men through Wolverine/Rogue, it seemed obvious to me that Professor X and Magneto had a past sexual relationship. I, in fact, had an original story that I'd started writing in eleventh grade that had similar tension between two male characters, and the idea that they were in love and unable to have sex about it explained so much. And I wrote more original stories in college that were gay.

I think my problem was that the canons I was consuming were quite straight, and while I wasn't obsessed with writing canon-compliant fics, I was (and still am, to some extent) obsessed with writing characters who were true to canon. At the time sexuality seemed some kind of immutable thing to me that was deeply a part of who a character was. Also, sex to me was very Other; it meant something really deep and serious about you that obliterated other things you were. For instance, I was frustrated with all the Frodo/Sam porn, because I felt it obliterated their beautiful friendship and made their relationship about sex and being gay rather than the deep pure bond of friendship. So I was maybe kind of homophobic and confused.

Then I fell in love with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and while that canon has a lot of heteronormativity, it not only has a character who thought she was straight who realizes she's gay, it also has vampires who have lived for centuries and who have broken every kind of social norm that exists. It seemed silly to me to assume that Spike or Angel were straight, which is how I began shipping Spike/Angel, which is how I got absolutely obsessed with slash. It was so liberating to write porn where the power dynamic wasn't influenced by centuries of patriarchy! It was so liberating to write porn where I didn't have to think about my own anatomy or gender or position in a sexual dynamic! It was so liberating to write porn with a bunch of dicks!

Having discovered slash, I turned back to ye olde faithful fandom, which had ten billion fics about everything. I'm not sure I even tried Sirius/Remus, because I was still so uninterested in it, but now I read all the Snape slash, the majority of which seemed to be Harry/Snape. The thing is, I don't ship Harry/Snape. It can be very hot! But while the porn is fine and some of the stories are fun, these are not two people that I want to live happily ever after. I just think that the power dynamic between them, the history they have, and the personalities they are do not make me want to imagine them as a couple with a happy marriage who occasionally have the friends over for games of Quidditch and Exploding Snap. And while I like queer complicated, angsty stories, I also like a happy ending in a semi-heteronormative sense, especially for Harry Potter, who really seems to want one. So, I started looking for other Harry Potter slash.

I knew that Harry/Draco was a juggernaut pairing, but I just hated Draco Malfoy so much. I honestly could not stand him. I used to go about saying that I hated him not only as a person (like, I also hated Snape as a person; he's a dick, and he's cruel to children! But he's a great character) but as a character. I just didn't like the function he played in the narrative. I like big, dramatic rivalries and evil vs good; meanwhile, Draco Malfoy is a little worm. So I kept thinking about reading HP slash, but resisting.

Then, one day, I was sleeping on the couch, and woke up suddenly with the idea that Draco Malfoy could be reformed. He could be sorry for all the shitty things he's done! He could be really apologetic! He could be really trying to make up for his past, and Harry could find this truly beautiful, and they could have sex about it!

Surprisingly, it was hard to find fic about this. For some reason, in most of the fic, it was Harry having to earn Malfoy's approval, instead of the other way around, which I found absolutely bonkers. But I eventually found Eclipse, by Mijan, which was just what I wanted. Then I was obsessed and was reading every Harry/Draco fic I could find.

Eventually, I even read the ones in which Harry was a cad and Draco Malfoy was a perfect snowflake who never did anything wrong. And then I started finding fics that really emphasized that Draco had a very different point of view of what happened, which showed that he really had no way to understand who Harry was, or what Harry had been through. In these fics, Harry had to do some work to understand Draco, which is what really sold me on the pairing. I still want fics in which Draco has to do a lot of heavy lifting to address his past and deal with the hurt he has caused and the violence of his previously genocidal outlook, but I love it when Harry, too, has to adjust. After saving the world and losing most people he loves and protecting the innocent and doing his exhausted little best to be honest and righteous and true, Harry Potter still has to do work, again, to overcome his past and find a peaceful life. And that's what made me start writing Harry/Draco, the end.

[themourningfox]

A New Life

Iiiii have been obsessed with watching @grind-pantera and @reddesires write about Planet of the Apes. Like, heavily inspired and biting at the bars of my enclosure to read or write or both. Apologies for the tags, I wanted to give proper credit for my rediscovered obsession. Thank you both! *runs off like a feral gremlin*

Anywho, I had this in my head and wanted to get it out. Don't know if I'll continue it, let me know if y'all want me to expand on this or...well. Maybe I will regardless. WE'LL SEE. *dives*

Rating: E (for Everyone!!)

Plot: You're newly taken in to the colony, a human with no idea how it works. Because of this, you're trying to navigate your new life.

A/N: Could evolve into (Character) x Reader, but...well. That depends on if I continue. Have this!

You weren’t used to this.

This referring to living among the apes of the woods. The ones who could talk—well, talk in rough, choppy sentences or sign language passed down by the older orangutan Maurice. It hadn’t been long since you had been brought there among the whooping hollering of one of their patrols, shepherding you to their leader…king? You weren’t entirely sure what they referred to him as, but you know they respected him greatly and looked to him to decide all things regarding their colony.

Him, of course, being Caesar. The first ape to speak.

You had heard the rumor, now passed around human campfires like folklore, of Caesar’s first utterances from years ago. It hadn’t been a big deal then, but when you had first heard him speak in that low, rumbling voice like he still wasn’t sure where exactly the sound sat in his throat, it had rocked you to your very core.

Scared you, even.

During the first week in the colony, you treated them like wild animals. Of course, you had known about the intelligent apes living in the forest, but you had never thought you’d be living among them. Now, so far away from home, not even knowing how to return, you wished you had learned more. A checklist formed in your mind. A sort of “How To” in order for your own survival.

One: Don’t look them in the eyes.

That was something you had learned as a child when your father was teaching you how to interact with strange dogs. Animals often took eye contact to mean a threat, that you were challenging them. Well, shit. You didn’t want any of these apes to consider you a threat. God, the gorillas were huge. They could rip you apart limb from limb. How many news stories had there been in your lifetime about pet chimps eating their owner’s faces off? So you didn’t look anyone in the eye.

By careful observance, you had learned how to properly greet those around you. Body low to the ground, head down, fleeting eye contact, hand above your head. If you were lucky, you’d get a simple touch to let you know it was okay.

Two: Avoid Koba by any means necessary.

The scarred ape, a Bonobo you believed, scared you more than anyone else in the camp. His glazed-over, milky white eye seemed to follow you everywhere you went. He didn’t you, and you didn’t trust him. How could you when he only ever glared at you and sometimes even growled? There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that he’d be the one to kill you if he was ever given the chance to.

Three: Stay as close to Caesar and his closest companions as was allowed and considered acceptable.

Caesar had a fondness for your kind, you learned. His closest companions and family, though you got the feeling didn’t share his sentiment, at least showed you kindness in their own way. Rocket, Luka, Blue Eyes, and especially Maurice. They were your key to survival.

There was one thing you were completely certain of: They were never going to let you leave.

You had seen too much. You knew too much.

Your knowledge was valuable to any humans seeking to destroy them.

The longer you stayed in the camp, the more you came to recognize your new reality. At times, late at night, when the camp was quiet, you would sit out underneath the canopy and stare at the stars peeking through. There were certain things you missed about other humans. The laughter. Full conversations. The community.

Here among the colony, the impending end of the human reign pressed and tickled along the back of your mind like an ever-present itch.

Your eyes slid up and up, following the path that led to Caesar’s abode in the cave.

Shadows danced from the large fire above, and a silhouette stood on the edge.

He was watching.

And you knew, deep down, he always would be.

[georgie-weasley]

Grinch Young R.L. x GN!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of depression, mentions of poverty, and just disliking Christmas

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x Gender Neutral Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: Christmas was quickly approaching and everyone was excited but you. As the residential Grinch you were not looking forward to the holiday but turns out Remus Lupin is a Grinch as well.

A/N: Hello all! This is my first fic back after a break and I'm really glad to be back. Thank you to everyone who is still reading my stories and I love you all. Also this was inspired by my disliking of Christmas so I projected on the reader and Remus a smidge.

Masterlist Taglist

Christmas had exploded around Hogwarts. Pine trees were set up in just about every corner in every single room in the castle. Trees were taller than most of the students and covered in brightly colored baubles and tinsel and magic balls of light that changed color every minute. Garlands and wreaths covered the stone walls and the smell of gingerbread followed the students everywhere they went. The suits of armor broke out into Christmas songs and danced anytime someone passed by. The Great Hall was by far the most decorated part of Hogwarts with festive table runners, stockings hung on the fireplace, large real snowflakes on every surface enchanted to never melt, and the magical ceiling was snowing. It was horrible.

You had never been one to get into the Christmas spirit. The songs were annoying and wormed their way into your brain and never left. The decorations were everywhere and followed you around, literally while at Hogwarts. People were just insanely obsessed with Christmas and overly happy. They were happy to the point of it being creepy and fake and weird.

Possibly the worst was just how excited all of your friends seemed to be. James Potter, sunshine incarnate and your best friend, loved Christmas. He loved everything you hated about it. In fact, James had been talking about Christmas since the beginning of November and he never let you escape it.

“Happy 10th day of Christmas Y/N!” James’s bright and cheerful smile popped up between you and your book. The sudden appearance of his face made you jump, smacking him a little with your book.

“James! You absolute asshole! I’m trying to read.” You huffed and shoved him away as you tried to turn back to your book. The common room was quiet and the perfect place to read until now.

James only rolled his eyes and wedged himself into the miniscule space between you and the arm of the couch. “You know there is an entire couch open? Actually the whole common room is open but you had to sit practically on my lap?”

“Well yeah,” James chuckled as he tore the book out of your grasp and fully moved himself onto your lap. “I have to tell you what I want for Christmas! This year I want Lily Evans to date me.”

“Fat chance buddy. You’ve been wishing for that since you were 13. Give it a rest.” With one hard push, James fell off of your lap and onto the rug with a loud thud. “Besides, don’t you know you don’t get your Christmas wish if you tell it to the Grinch.”

James just looked at you with a wild smirk. “Then I suppose I’ll have to sing a song to reverse the curse!” He then burst into song, singing the Twelve Days of Christmas at the top of his lungs. You clamped your hands over your ears but nothing managed to block out the horrible sounds coming from James until the portrait opened and a figure sped by and body slammed James.

Sirius pulled James into a headlock while Peter quickly sprinted over and sat on James’s chest. “Please Prongs, we’ve talked about this. You can’t sing. Don’t ever try to do it again.” While James struggled to break free from Sirius and Peter, the fourth marauder sat in the open space next to you, his eyes already on his book.

You knew Sirius, Peter, and Remus but not like you knew James. Yes they were friends with your best friend but you never spoke to them unless it was for class or James made you. There was nothing wrong with the three of them. Actually, quite the opposite. You loved them and loved hearing stories about them but you never ran in the same circles. In fact, you didn’t see James as much as you used to either. You had grown up next door to him and as kids you two were always together. It’s not that you two aren’t friends anymore because clearly you are, you just don’t see him around as much.

James found Sirius, Remus, and Peter and never left them. You found your own friends and spent more time on your studies than James ever could. Sirius was fine and you waved to him in the halls. Peter would wave if he was with James or Sirius but not on his own. Remus never really acknowledged you. However, that never stopped you from looking at him. Since James had become friends with Remus Lupin, you were drawn to him. He was quiet just about all of the time but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sassy. You heard the way he would call out James and it was cutthroat. He was tall and handsome and rather mysterious in a way. Not to mention he was smart and was always seen with a book.

“Hey Grinch!” James's voice came from somewhere on the floor.

“What?” You and Remus both said. At the same time, you looked away from Remus as he looked away from his book to find James. Hearing Remus, you then looked at him while he looked at you.

For only a second, no one moved or spoke until James broke the silence. “Right, sorry. Forgot there’s two of ya. Moony?” Remus slowly tore his gaze away from yours to look at his friend who had continued speaking but you could hear none of it.

That was an interesting development. You had assumed James was talking to you since not only does he know about your distaste for Christmas but you called yourself Grinch not very long ago. But Remus also responded so Remus must also not be the biggest fan of Christmas. Otherwise, there would have been no reason for James to call him that or for him to respond.

The night slowly grew darker and while more and more students arrived in the common room, Remus never left the spot next to you. James, Sirius, and Peter eventually left to find some poor soul to bother but Remus remained, his nose still in his book. Honestly, it was making you a little nervous at this point. The man has hardly ever spoken to you since you were introduced back in third year. It's been three years since then and it wasn’t like you were much closer than before.

“You don’t like Christmas?” Remus mumbled, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He sounded almost disinterested.

“Yeah, I think it’s quite dumb to be honest.” You expected him to respond, like people usually do when having a conversation but he didn’t. He just hummed a little and went back to his book. “You don’t like it either?” If he wasn’t going to continue then maybe you would just have to make him. It brought almost a sense of hope thinking about the fact that maybe someone else wasn’t enjoying the season. You didn’t want someone to wallow around with but to have someone that wasn’t going to complain about your less than thrilled outlook would be really nice.

“I don’t. Never have.” Remus didn’t even bother taking his eyes off of his book as he answered. It could have been just your imagination but you thought you could just hardly see him smile. He suddenly closed his book and stood, his arm brushing yours in the process. Remus made it to the base of the stairs before he turned back around to look at you. “Hey Grinch.” As soon as you turned and he could see your face, he smiled. “See you later.”

---

At the Gryffindor table later that week, you had once again been minding your own business when James interrupted you. He sat across from you and smirked, reaching over to poke your arm. “Happy 14th day of Christmas, Grinch Number Two.”

“How come I’m the second?” You said with a roll of your eyes before you continued eating your breakfast.

“Because Remus is number one.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, I disagree. I knew you first.”

James hummed and shrugged. “I’ll take that into consideration. Did you talk to him after we all left?”

“Did you set that up James?” You asked with narrow eyes.

“No, I just simply called him the nickname I always give him this time of year which just so happens to be the same as yours and I assumed he would mention something about it to you after. Did he?” He leaned forward, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“Yes.” James let out a cheer at your answer, getting him some weird looks from the whole room since he was so loud. Before you could chastise him for being so loud and obnoxious, Remus sat next to you. Which was very odd since before last night, he’s never sat next to you.

Immediately, James got up and moved further down the table to bother Lily. “Are you going home for Christmas?” Remus asked as soon as James was out of earshot. “The final day to sign up to stay here is Saturday.”

“Will you be staying?” You asked.

Remus nodded. “I stay every year.” He opened his mouth and closed it a few times before he evidently decided he didn’t want to say anything and kept it shut.

You could have gone home and while it would have been nice to be with family, you never actually stayed at the castle for Christmas. Now might be a good chance to do it. “I think I’ll stay. I go home every year; my family can survive without me for one year.”

He smiled and started adding food to his plate. “I’m glad you’ll be staying.” You were too busy trying to hide the blush on your cheeks to notice the blush on his.

---

As the holiday neared closer and closer, everyone got happier and happier. Well, everyone but you and Remus. While James and Sirius, who were also staying at Hogwarts, were planning a Christmas party and singing songs, you and Remus bonded over the opposite.

His least favorite song was We Wish You a Merry Christmas, he thought Santa was beyond creepy, and he found the smell of pine to be overpowering. You sat together at meals and laughed at people who were wearing festive outfits. He made you smile as he made faces behind peoples’ backs as they gushed over holiday traditions. On more than one occasion, he shoved James into a pile of snow when he was being too cheery. Remus Lupin was bringing you a lot of joy this season and you were not the only one to notice it.

James made it a point to tell you that this was the happiest he had ever seen both of you around this time of year. In fact, it almost looked like you were enjoying Christmas. You had scoffed at that and then proceeded to shove him into some snow but he did have a point. Remus was making you really happy and it's hard to be a grinch when you’re happy.

But it was nice being happy around the holiday and it was even nicer that Remus was the one making you so happy. You always found him attractive and you knew he was smart and funny but now you got to know just how sweet he was. Yes, he was poking fun at other people but he was doing it purely for your entertainment. He admitted one night after you two had made fun of a particularly ugly Christmas sweater that he never does this; he just liked hearing you laugh. Which made your insides turn into jelly and you couldn’t stop smiling. You also learned that he liked the same books as you and he was so passionate about reading.

He was extremely loyal to his friends and would do anything for them. He wasn’t great at expressing his feelings but he tried his best to let the people close to him know they were loved. He was brutally honest especially when it came to James and Sirius; he was always telling them how stupid they looked or when they were acting like idiots. You felt like a cliche Christmas romance movie but you were falling in love.

---

It was Christmas Eve and James had insisted all seven of the Gryffindors who had stayed needed to sleep in the common room. It was a tradition you two used to have as kids. The night before Christmas you two would sleep on the floor in the living room in front of the tree; you kept up with that tradition until you went to Hogwarts.

Of course before that, there was a party. It was nothing insane like the parties Sirius and James threw after winning a Quidditch game but it was still a party. There were snacks, drinks, games, and Christmas music, much to yours and Remus’s disappointment. You mingled for a while, which is more than Remus could say. He sat on one of the loveseats and only moved to grab more snacks. James tried to get him to play pin the nose on Rudolph but it was easy to guess how that went. While you also didn’t join in on the festive games, you stayed to watch. Sirius managed to get the nose perfectly on Rudolph which made James accuse him of cheating to which Sirius tackled him for ‘insulting his honor’. He confessed to cheating ten minutes later.

Many more games went on like that and after the fifth one, you found Remus still on the loveseat. As you approached, he moved so there would be more space for you. You sat in silence for a while before he spoke up. “Why do you hate Christmas, really?”

You had told him once you didn’t like the music and yes that’s true but it's not the only reason. “I guess I just don’t like how happy people pretend to be. There’s real genuine happiness like James but so many people aren’t happy. Life is horrible and nothing is going right but as soon as it's December, they pretend. It's ok to be unhappy during the holidays; you don’t have to pretend life is perfect just because it's Christmas.” You looked at Remus only to find him watching you. “Can I ask why you don’t like Christmas?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I never really had a good Christmas. My mom really struggled to be happy around this time of year, especially after…”

“After you became a werewolf?” His eyes grew wide and he started to shake. “No one told me,” you whispered and put a hand on his arm to calm him. “You just were always missing on the full moon and sometimes the day after. I figured it out. I don’t think of you differently.”

Remus took a minute to process the fact that you knew his deepest secret before he continued his story. “Yes, after I was bitten my mother was horribly depressed around Christmas. I think it made her remember everything and she couldn’t be happy. It also was harder for my parents to get money after since no one really wanted to be around us. I saw my parents struggle all month to save money to get me a gift. My mother especially would go without dinner just to waste money on some stupid toy. After seeing that, well it makes it hard to like Christmas.”

Your hand found his and you intertwined your fingers with his. “I’m sorry Remus.”

He shrugged a little and watched your hand as his thumb stroked yours. “It isn’t your fault. Actually, you’ve made this the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” He smiled and looked up at you, his cheeks a dusty rose.

“You’ve made this my best Christmas as well.” It was then something bumped your head, causing you to look up. Behind the loveseat was James who had tied some mistletoe to a stick and was holding it over your head. Remus followed your gaze and sighed, rolling his eyes. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Do you want to?” Remus whispered. You knew James could hear every word you were saying despite him pretending not to listen but you didn’t really care.

“Yes.” You hardly finished the word before Remus leaned down and brought his lips to yours. Immediately your arms wrapped around his neck and brought him closer if it was even possible. His hands found your waist, lips moving against yours in perfect sync. Unfortunately, the kiss had to end so you could breathe.

Remus nudged your nose with his. “Now it’s the best Christmas ever.”

Taglist

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