#and it almost feels like an apology from the writers for how they did early season thomas

[greenerteacups]

You like downtown abbey! I almost did not watch this show because frankly a bunch of rich people from early 1900s England did not interest much but the writing is so good and the characters so intereting that I was rooting for them by episode 2. Anyway. What prompted me to write this ask is: do you have any recs for shows/movie/book with great characters? The specifc genre doesn't matter much. I'm curious to know what media have your favorite characters (besides HP of course)

I do like the Edwardian rich people show! The bastards got me again. It's such an interesting period — I think that the early seasons are the best because you can see the writers are still trying to *say something* about Edwardian Britain, especially the decline of the class system in England during and after World War I. The whole war plotline is really great, some of the show's best writing, and it hits series heights when it's doing the initial aftermath stuff (also not coincidentally the season where they develop Thomas's character beyond 'evil gay footman.')

My favorite characters are scattered all over the place — off the top of my head, Wuthering Heights, Sense & Sensibility, Jane Eyre, Middlemarch, Brideshead Revisited, anything by P.G. Wodehouse; more recently, White Teeth, The Goldfinch, Atonement (book and movie), My Brilliant Friend, and Wolf Hall (books first, but also the TV show). In terms of straight movies, Chimaera was the most recent one that moved me deeply; also When Harry Met Sally, the Before trilogy, The Social Network, Inception, the Daniel Craig bond saga but ONLY Casino Royale and Skyfall and the 35 minutes of Quantum of Solace I actually like; The Royal Tenenbaums and The Fantastic Mr. Fox and The Grand Budapest Hotel, and basically anything Wes Anderson before he got too in his own head about shit; Downton Abbey for fun, The Sopranos for different fun, Mad Men for the most fun of all, and Better Call Saul but only in small doses, because otherwise I'll get brain worms and start crawling on the ceiling about stuff. So, uh. That's a start.

[lionheartedmusings]

hi everyone! i talked about my new "dream job" very briefly a few times, but turns out you really shouldn't count your chickens before they hatch. i debated not saying anything multiple times, and frankly perhaps i should've kept quiet, but i refuse to let this situation eat me up and i feel like the community also deserves some transparency on some things that realistically, you'll never get unless people speak up. i want to preface this by stating very, very clearly that everyone that i met in the studio on a personal level is incredibly talented, passionate, and kind. all of them deserve much, much better than the way they get treated. i applied to be a writer for quackity studios / qsmp and got an email back on the 18th of january. i interviewed for the position on the 23rd of january, and entered trial period on the 28th after signing an "nda".

early during trial period, i asked one of my supervisors about payment and was told they weren't responsible for that and didn't know, but would get back to me as soon as they knew which never ended up happening (i do not blame them at all, they’re incredibly busy people). i should've pressed further, but as someone in a very, very sensitive financial situation and someone who loves the qsmp and admires the talent of everyone who poured their heart and soul into the project, i chose to wait and expect the best. i was officially welcomed into the studio on the 10th of february, and while i waited to be contacted regarding a contract or payment, i had to once again ask (even after i was already working) about payment. i was redirected to "the" head admin as it was him who handled payment, and had to wait days for him to log on so i could add him as a discord friend and ask about my salary. during that conversation, which took almost a week from start to finish, i was asked multiple times if i'd worked professionally as a writer or freelancer (to which the answer was no) before finally being offered between 200-250 dollars (which i later found out shakes out to 170€) per month. i had to ask how i was being paid, and of my own accord provide him with my paypal email in hopes of a response as he never made it clear to whom i should send it. i was incredibly lucky compared to so many members of that team, because i did get paid for my work over that month, even if it felt like i had to beg for compensation that had been promised to me before. it was an awful salary, but i was desperate and so excited to be a part of the team that i accepted the conditions. after léa's tweets, the response "jay" posted, and quackity's emergency stream, i heard once from a supervisor that things were on hold but we'd be informed of any changes. to this day, there has not been any communication either publicly on the discord server or privately, even though i asked a supervisor privately for any possible updates on anything. there's been absolute radio silence. i want to add that i do not in any way blame my supervisors for any of their lack of communication, as they've been nothing but kind and caring towards me and i imagine they'd say something if they could. i have nothing but the utmost respect for them. a few days ago (and i apologize for not being precise with the date but i wasn't checking these things closely as i had no reason to) i noticed that my access to just about everything on the server apart from the announcement channel had been removed, and the only role i retained was the main "writer" one. upon checking, the other writers on the team still retain all of their previous roles. for some reason i do not know nor understand, my access got removed without any sort of word, communication, dm, anything. anything i've ever learnt about this situation, i learnt in the middle of the night live on twitch.tv while i waited to see if i still had a job or not. the only reason i can find for my access being removed and not the other writers is the fact that i'm friends with pomme's admin. i do not know if that is why, it's merely my own speculation, but it's the only link i can see that would lead to that decision. i hope i'm wrong, but hope hasn't gotten me very far in this yet. yesterday, i quit.

i only applied in the first place because i love the qsmp. i love this community, i love this project, and i genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted to help build it as well as be able to in some way support myself while being creative. i'm not making this post because i hate quackity and want to see anything burn — i'm just exhausted, and stressed, and losing sleep over a business that ultimately does not care for the people that made it a reality. i could not in good conscience not say something, because while i was very lucky that my time there was short and while i made friends there that i believe i will take with me for the rest of my life, i've never been someone who can sit and watch others be mistreated so blatantly and just ignore it. i honestly and sincerely hope that moving forward, things change, but after what i've seen i have very little hope left in me. this isn't just about the exploitation of people, or just about not providing people with payment for their work — it's about treating other human beings who are killing themselves and working themselves to the bone with the very minimum of care and respect. it's about people who made the qsmp what it is being discarded and disrespected constantly, and who live in fear and anxiety. these people deserve to be treated well, and that lack of respect hasn't changed regardless of any "announcements" made. my heart and full and complete support goes out to everyone who is dealing with these very unfortunate circumstances and treatment (my dms are always open if you ever want to reach out), to léa for being so incredibly brave and putting herself in the line of fire for the tens of people still in the studio, to all the actors and the twitter teams for the absolute silence they've received as payment for their hard work over almost a year, and to pomme's admin who despite what's going around on twitter has not received any contact from anyone in the studio yet, and deserves so so much better.

it’s my most sincere hope that qsmp thrives and conditions change, because everyone there deserves that. everyone there deserves to be treated like gold because they’re some of the best people i’ve ever met. i wish it didn’t feel like we have to put ourselves in the line of fire publicly for any sort of response because clearly staying silent hasn’t helped anything.

please, support the people who spoke out and support the people still in the project. they're the ones who made the qsmp the qsmp. they're the ones you should be standing with first and foremost.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I feel like I owe Kim Possible a minor apology. In a recent post, I used Kim and Ron's romance as an example of how the love square should have been written. I've also talked about how Ron's the perfect example of a male comedy sidekick who is more than just a comedy sidekick because he's treated as Kim's perfect partner. I've probably mentioned Kim Possible other times, too, because it's such a good match for what Miraculous is trying to do.

Because I keep singing Kim Possible's praises I decided that I should rewatch the show to make sure that my nostalgia goggles weren't blinding me to some major flaw. So far, they weren't. If anything, I've been underselling the show. This is where we get to that apology I mentioned at the start.

Prior to this rewatch, I would have told you that Ron's importance wasn't really discussed until the later seasons because the first season of a formulaic kids show is almost always a testing grounds to see what works, so things can be a little rough. Plus Ron's importance isn't exactly something that you need to dive into early on when you've got a two person team. No one is questioning Ron's importance right out of the gate. He's there to be the comedy sidekick. No explanation needed.

Imagine my surprise when the plot of episode six is all about Kim and Ron getting into a fight about Ron excelling at their part time job while Kim kinda sucks, leading to Kim going to fight alone while Ron keeps working. Kim fails, Ron gets a call that she's in trouble, and:

Wade: Not important. Kim's in trouble. She found Drakken at inside giant Cheese Wheel but I lost contact. She needs help. Your help. Ned: Well, well, well. Looks like you've got a choice to make, Stoppable! What's more important? Your sacred duty as assistant manager or your role as goofy sidekick? Ron: Well, that's no choice at all. I guess it's time to say buenos noches, Bueno Nacho.

Dude doesn't even hesitate. Doesn't matter if they're fighting or if he's feeling underappreciated, Kim needs his help? He's there. Their fight can wait until after Kim is safe. This is why I love Ron. Total dork, but you can't ask for a better partner.

Ron's rescue attempt initially goes south, but instead of getting mad, we get this genuinely sweet moment:

Ron: Guess that wasn't much of a plan. Kim: Not as great as your Bueno Nacho bathroom-break chart. Ron: I gooned on assistant-manager power. You were right. Kim: I did resent your superior burrito technique. You're entitled to excel. Forgive me? Ron: Duh! Forgive me? Kim: Totally.

Boy do I love these two! Their friendship was so genuine right from the start. This whole episode is just oozing how much they care for each other, it's great!

After this moment, they save the day with Ron playing a big part in Kim's plan because right from season one, season one, the writers understood that Kim could never be shown to win when Ron wasn't around.

As you may have guessed from the cheese wheel line, the plot of this episode is pretty absurd even for Kim Possible. That's been the case for all of the early episodes, but I think that the plots are going to improve as the seasons go on because I remember the later seasons having much stronger plots. We'll see if that proves true. Even if the plots stay kinda weak, I've still gotta give full credit to the writers for their early character work. They really understood Kim and Ron's relationship right from the start, didn't they? And in a show like this, that's the most important element to get right.

Don't worry, I'm not going to flood your dash with Kim Possible love, I just had to take a moment to appreciate how good the character work was here. They really did want Ron to feel like more than Kim's goofy sidekick and they pulled it off while sticking to the show's absurd writing and formulaic structure. As Miraculous has shown, that isn't something that just naturally happens. It takes effort, so I had to take a moment to gush because I don't get to gush about good character work often while running this blog. I hope this also makes it clear that, when it comes to writing, I'm not looking for perfection. I'm just looking for a good time. So far, that's what this rewatch is giving me.

[neesieiumz]

𓆩☆𓆪 | 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵 ⸺ ⚞𝙴𝚁𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝚃𝙷 ⚟

⸻ synopsis ⫸〖 when your home gets flooded out by a bad storm, it's only right for sheriff erwin smith to help you out, right love?〗

⸻ warnings ⫸ sm*t. fluff. minors do not interact. part ii of the gold rush anthology. sheriff!erwin. bar-owner!reader. canon-age Erwin. reader is in her late twenties, or early thirties, however, you wanna see it. afab reader. female reader. black-coded reader. soft-dom!erwin. fingering. squirting. titty-sucking. full-nelson position (yes, can you tell I have a fantasy that I really wanna do?) soft-dom!erwin. he's also really stressed out in this. he also calls you "love" all the time. he also calls you a good girl during this as well. friends-to-lovers. p*rn with plot.

⸻ writers note ⫸ lol much like reiner's this took me like two months to write. y'all better pray it don't take me that long to do eren's or we're gonna have a problem!! I just hope you all enjoy this.

⸻ word count ⫸ 7.0k.

masterlist. | previous part in the anthology | next part in the anthology |

The bar was empty, the kitchen cleaned up, and all quiet as well. The air that once smelled of cheap beer and grease now began to fade into the smell of night dew and wet sand. You stood behind the bar, wiping down the few wet glasses to put away. Glancing out the door, seeing the moon and stars glowing against the midnight sky, sighing as your mind faded back to the events before. Back to the way Erwin and his men had rushed out of here. It has been chaotic for the people within this town. For the past two weeks, those bandits had been ravaging the town, escaping with no trace within the wind. You had overheard their frustrations from both the police force and Garrison boys and how they evaded their every movement. Wiping your wet hands against your dress, turning around to do a final count of the beer stocked behind you. It was a hassle, always being the last one, but you knew no one else could leave your bar the way you do. As you did so, you suddenly heard the door creak and swing open. Gasping, jumping in slight shock, grabbing the closest thing to you before a familiar voice hissed through the air. 

The very same man you were thinking about stomped right through the bar, face red, grumbling in anger. He wasn’t wearing his hat, probably left it at the office as he trampled on through. His bronze-brown vest was unbuttoned, showing off his buttoned-down shirt stained with sand and dirt stains. The smell of wet mud, rain, and sweat hit your nose but you said nothing as he made his way towards you, sitting right down at one of the bar stools. He let out a loud groan, reaching up, losing the scarf he tied around his neck. You let out a breath, not saying a word as you turned right back around, going to one of the beer barrels. Filling it with the one he drinks the most, before sliding it to him. Not missing a beat, he took the tall glass, downing most of it in one go.

“Thank ya kindly, love,” he said, slamming the glass down on the table. 

“Don’t go and break my glass, Erwin,” you joked, taking the glass and going to fill it. 

“My apologies, and no need for more, I’ll be too dizzy to head back home.”

You hummed, before lifting the glass up, sipping down the little you had already poured back into the cup. Erwin said nothing, watching as you licked your lips, shuddering slightly at the taste of the bitter wheat alcohol. 

“I don’t know how you boys can be drinking that shit all day,” a grimace took over your face. 

Erwin smirked, “it’s an acquired taste, could say the same thing about the fancy lil wine you’re always drinking.”

You rolled your eyes at that, smirking, “alright now Erwin..”

Rinsing and washing the glass, before taking the damp rag and wiping it down. Back facing towards him, you spoke once more. 

“Assuming from your attitude, you don’t have any good news about them bandits?”

Almost immediately, you could feel his mood dampen. He groaned, hearing sink further into the table. You glanced back at him, finding both of his large hands covering his face in further frustration. 

“I’m assuming that’s a no,” you said. 

He let out a softer sigh, before pushing himself up once more, looking at you as you shuffled around, still facing the back of the bar. 

“They’re tricky lil things, constantly evading my men,” he sighed, groaning as well as he sat up fully. 

“We chased 'em down to the big forest all the way out there, but we lost' em. Still don’t know how, not like there’s many places to hide up there. We even checked the big cave over there as well and all the possible trees they could hide in.”

Sighing, you placed the glass down with the rest of them before turning around and facing him fully. You leaned over the table, pressing your abdomen against the shiny wood. Using your free hand, you placed your pad on his cheeks, your longer fingers reaching his blond hair, while your thumb stroked his cheek. You could feel his smile form against your hand, smiling soon after that. 

“Kirstein’s been on my ass about finding them, they took a lot of his equipment and it was real expensive for him to buy new ones in the city. Told him to sell his wife’s jewelry and he looked at me like I got two cow heads.”

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped your lips, thinking about Jean waving his fist over at Erwin, before speaking, “You can’t catch em all Erwin in one night, plus them robbers real sneaky too. First we’ve ever seen someone like this. It’ll be alright, m’kay?”

He nodded his head, and you soon moved your hand, lifting your body upright once again. He glanced around the bar, seemingly noticing that there was no one else there but him. He glanced over at you as you placed the wet rag on the rack hanging from the counter, before stepping out from behind it. Erwin watched you begin slowly turning off the lights hanging around the bar, dimming down all the lanterns. 

“Lemme walk you home, love. Can’t have you out here at night like this.”

You couldn't suppress your smile as you dimmed the last lantern, nothing but the low light of the moon peeking through the door surrounding, darkness swallowing you two whole. 

You sighed, walking back to the bar to grab your bag, “if by home, you mean the motel across town then yeah.”

Turning around, jumping at the sudden tall figure right in front of you. He peered down at you, eyes slightly wide. 

“What you mean by that, love? Why you staying in a place like that?” He asked you.

Letting out a shaky breath, and taking a step back. Erwin was close, so close that it had your heart suddenly palpated a bit, heat suddenly flashing through your body. 

“Um..” your mind went blank for a bit, before resetting, “that storm a few nights ago put me out, my roof and walls leaking so I grabbed what I could and ran down to the motel. Was soaking wet when I got there too.” You slightly snorted at that last part but Erwin’s face didn’t change at all.

“Now why didn’t you tell me about this? I could have helped you?”

You crossed your arms, taking a deep breath to help calm yourself just a bit, “and do what? You and the entire damn force were worried about those bandits. You know I don’t wanna be a bother, Erwin.”

His large, coarse came up to your face, pressing it against your cheek. Your heart kicked back up as he took a step closer to you, stomping over the distance you had put between the two of you. 

“Now you know you could never be a bother to me, love.”

You couldn’t help the smile, looking up into his usually icy blue eyes, hardened from years on the job, that now had a softened look to them. You couldn't help but use your free hand, reaching up and placing it on top of his own. The two of you smiled at each other, before dropping your hands at the same time. Erwin turned around, heading towards the opened door together. 

“I don’t feel comfortable with you staying in the motel, especially with these bandits running around,” he mentioned as he opened the door, holding it open for you. 

Sighing, turning around to lock up the bar, “well, what would you have me do Erwin? Everyone else I know is packed full, and I’m not going into the forest late at night. The carpenter’s are stretched thin with everyone else and won’t finish with my place until next week.”

You put your keys back in your bag, turning around to look at him. His face was lowered, eyebrows furrowed in a look of pondering as the two of you walked through the almost silent town. You could hear a commotion in the background, most likely people having their own get-togethers as well.  

“You could come stay with me. Until they repair your house of course.”

Your eyes widened, head swinging to look at him. The two of you locked eyes as your heart dropped for a quick moment. Stay… at Erwin’s place…? You shuffled a bit as you thought upon the idea, the idea of you two sharing a space for at least a week. Just for a quick moment, a flash of a much more, racy sight of him had your heart pounding a mile a minute. 

“I really don’t wanna put you out like that Erwin,” you spoke up, shuffling and looking away from him, trying your best to be still with your beating heart

Cool hands reached out to your chin, pulling your head up to look at the 6’2 man. 

“Now what did I just say, love? You could never be a burden to me, and you could never put me out.”

With no other words, his other hand reached out, sliding your bag out of his hands before swinging it over his shoulders. He began walking ahead of you, taking a few steps before looking back at you. He jerked his head, motioning for you to follow him. With no other words, softly smiling as you turned and walked towards him, the two of you walking in step as you walked through the town. Despite the sheriff's office being in the center of town, Erwin preferred to live a bit of the way in the opposite direction away from the forest. He likes being near the main entrance of the town, just in case something happens. As you were halfway there, a large gust of sudden cold wind blew past the two of you, causing you to shiver a bit. Your arms crossed each other, your hands stroking them to create some kind of heat. Erwin must have noticed your actions as all of a sudden, you heard a ‘plop’ before a weight fell upon your shoulders. Looking around, you saw the jacket Erwin was wearing draped across your shoulders. You looked up at him, noting him pointedly not looking back down at you as he continued walking. You let off a small smile, snuggling into the warm jacket, sounding off a soft “thank you” before continuing to walk behind him. 

The two of you soon got to his home, a simple two-story house given to him by the townspeople, a thank you for all that he does. You followed behind him as he fished for his keys out of his pockets, unlocking the door and pushing it open as he did so. He gestured for you to enter his home first, stepping out of the way for you. Soon after, he walked in behind you, closing the door behind you as you stood in his dark living room. He carefully slid past you, his hands reaching out to your waist to stabilize you easily as he walked over to a corner. Soon the room began to illuminate, allowing you to look at the quaint and simplistic living room. There was barely anything in the living room, a simple couch, a table along with a record sitting in the corner. Erwin straightened himself before turning around and walking abc towards you. 

“Let me take you to where you’ll be resting your head, love.”

He took you by the hand, causing you to gasp as he took you towards the stairs, which you hadn't noticed right near the front door. He guided you up the stairs, your bag still sitting and swinging on his shoulders. Coming up to the second floor, he took you down a hall before pushing a door open. You tilted your body behind him, peeking into the place where he led you. It was a bedroom, presumably the place where you would be resting your head for the next week or so. It was simple, a bed on a wooden stand with a night drawer right beside it. You followed behind him as he placed the bag right onto the bed before turning around. 

“This is one of the guest bedrooms, mainly for Levi whenever he comes into town, but he’s busy working on another case.” 

You blinked, nodding along as he explained where some of the things are. 

“The bathroom is the door right here,” he said, gesturing to the only other door in the room. 

There was also a huge dresser, instead of a closet which was fine as well, better for you since you wouldn't be staying for long anyways

“There’s one more guest bedroom down the hall, but it’s unfurnished so it's just full of boxes. So the only other room you’ll see up here is my own room.”

You turned towards him smiling, eyes welling up with tears of appreciation, “thank you again for this Erwin, you really didn't have to.”

He approached you, his long arms reaching out holding you on the shoulders, “how many times do I have to tell you, it's not a problem, love. Now, make yourself at home.” He said, before letting your shoulders go. 

He gave one last smile, before walking towards the door, opening it, and walking it out. The moment he left, you let out a sigh of relief, fanning off the sudden heat of nervousness from your face. You crossed the room, sitting on top of the bed before reaching for your bag. This was all you had brought with you when you left your home, most of your things water-damaged from the storm. You unzipped it, before sifting through all your clothes and things before pulling out a few night dresses that weren’t damaged. 

The rest of the night was uneventful, taking a shower to wash off the smell of alcohol and food on my body before slipping under the cool sheets. Despite the obvious unused in the room, the sheets still smelled fresh, like they were recently cleaned. You smiled, relishing in the soft feeling, unlike the itchy blankets over at the motel. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

It had been three days since you had taken solace in Erwin’s home, and the two of you found yourself in comfortable waters so easily. At first, it was nerve-wracking being in such close proximity to him, but you soon found it easier the more he reassured you. He had shown you around in the morning after you had arrived, before personally walking you back to the bar to open up for the day. He would meet you at the end of the day, even if he had night duty, to walk you back to the house as well. His pure actions and gestures only made you yearn and pine for him more. 

As you stood in his kitchen, the bar closed up early to account for the sudden curfew the mayor had just put out. You knew Erwin was working hard and late nights, you would hear him come in late at night sometimes, your mind only tuning into his heavy footsteps creaking against the wood floors before falling back into your heavy sleep. And like clockwork, he would get up at the same time as you, to walk you to the bar. He would come in when it closed to walk you home before heading back to his office as well. You knew it was weighing over him, all this responsibility to bring peace back to your town, where more and more people were coming in from the city to experience the rush happening all over. 

You glanced over to your left, out the window, where you could see Erwin’s form hunched over, barely illuminated by the light inside the home. Sighing, you closed the pot of stew you were brewing, wiping your hands cleaning with a wet rag before walking out, towards the door. The breeze was blowing slightly, sand sifting out in the distance. The scenery in front of you was enjoyable, much more than what your own home would have to offer. The slight rancid smell of smoke pulled you out of your thoughts. Turning towards your right, seeing the blonde man hunched over the railing, a cigar in one hand, a glass of brown liquor in the other. 

“Those things’ll kill you, Erwin.” you spoke out, cutting through the slice of the night. 

His head turned slightly towards you, eyes staring right back at you. He smirked, lifting up his cigar before taking another hit. 

“This stress’ll kill me before these things do.”

You rolled your eyes, walking towards him, taking the space right beside him. The cigar smoke only smells stronger, so you knew this wasn't his first one of the night. He leaned back suddenly, throwing back the rest of his bourbon, pressing his half-burnt cigar into the railing, making another of what seemed to be numerous burn marks. Glancing behind you, at the small little area Erwin had set up on his porch, you found the bottle of bourbon along with a pack of cigars and another empty glass. You took a step back, grabbing the bottle and the glass before standing right beside him again. You poured yourself one before pointing the bottle towards Erwin, who looked down at the bottle, before holding his own glass out. You poured halfway to his cup, before placing the bottle on the railing beside you. 

You turned back towards him, tipping your glass towards him, and Erwin immediately clinked it with yours. You took a sip while Erwin basically downed the whole thing once more. Pulling the glass away, a scowl appeared on your face as you looked at the drink. 

“I still don’t know how you people drink this type of shit,” You spoke, reminiscent of when you took a sip of beer a few days ago, leaning down again the railing, holding the glass with two hands. 

He chuckled, shuffling closer to you, leaning over the railing as well. 

It was silent between the two of you, just taking in the scenery at the moment. The wind was blowing just a little harder than before, the air smelling just a bit humid from the past storms tormenting the town. You could see the Kierstein ranches in the distance, along with the forest where your friend and coworker lived as well. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind Erwin, you know I’m worried.”

His chuckle lightly echoed through the almost empty home, facing straight as he pushed himself up, “Hange’s been on me about getting these bandits. Luckily it seems they’ve stopped for now, but we still can't find whatever they’ve stolen. Towns ‘n a riot.”

You knew about the last part, as many angry men walked into your bar, cursing out both the thieves and Erwin for not finding their missing things. You were only lucky that your bar still hadn't been hit yet, but you couldn’t say the same thing for the other bars and pubs around town. You’d honestly never have seen anything like this, the way people have only confirmed three people yet they were able to flip a huge town like this on its head. You move your hand on his face towards his back, rubbing and caressing him trying your best to provide some solace. 

“Cut yourself some slack Erwin, there’s only so much you can do in this. I’m sure you are doing all you can.”

He only sighed, leaning back fully, looking up towards his ceiling, “but am I doing enough? There’s something I’m missing in this.” He shook his head, hand reaching up and basically slapping his forehead. 

“Fuck, I got a nasty headache,” he mumbled, before suddenly sniffing. 

He blinked, eyes furrowed in confusion, before turning back towards you, “you cooking something?”

You blinked, before the smell of char hit your nose, causing you to jump straight up. Squeaking as you raced inside, throwing the door open before running back to the kitchen. You reached the stove, grabbing the pot before moving it to an unused burner kneeling down, disconnecting the gas. You could feel Erwin’s eyes on you as you lifted the pot, sighing in relief as the smell of strong spices and herbs fully filled the air instead of a charcoal-burnt smell. Slowly you turned towards Erwin, locking eyes with his slightly concerned ones. 

“Want some soup?”

He smiled before standing up, you tried to tell him to sit down, as you didn't want him to do any to aggregate his said headache even further but he didn’t listen to you. He crossed the kitchen before standing right behind you, placing his hand on your waist as he reached up to the cupboards.

“‘Scuse me, love,” he said, opening the cupboards to bring out two bowls. 

His large hand rested right on your waist, letting an almost silent shaky breath as he squeezed it, bringing down the bowls to your level. Your hyperawareness only caused you to ache down there, your thighs squeezing together as he placed the bowls down on the counter. He helped you prepare the dishes, washing his hands before he did so. He grabbed the silverware along with two glasses of water as you ladled the food into the bowls. The two of you carried the food into the living room, rather than the fancy little dining room Erwin barely used. The two of you sat right next to each other, eating away at the late-night dinner you made. 

You did your best to keep Erwin’s mind off of work, and it seemed to have worked, the tense furrow on his brow reposting as you spoke of the latest gossip between the townsfolk, what you would hear day by day. How one of your long-time patrons’ had suspicions of his husband cheating, only for his husband and best friend to roll in two hours after he left. People have a lot of audaciousness is what he said after you told him about that. 

The soup you cooked soon disappeared between the two of you, along with the glasses of water as you spoke way into the night. Erwin had brought in the bourbon he was drinking, and the two of you shared the bottle, diluting it with water of course. You don’t know how it happened but the space you had put between you and the tall man had slowly decreased. Your thighs touching, shoulders grazing each other, the two of you unconsciously getting closer. 

“Oh, you got a little something here, love,” Erwin suddenly said, cutting into your giggles. 

Before you could say anything, his hand suddenly reached out to your face, his large hand cupping your face. 

With a slight sharp inhale, you could only look over at the side, seeing his thumb rub away at stains you had not seen from the corner of your eye. Erwin rubbed at it a little harder, but it seemed the smudge wouldn’t go away. He moved closer to you, leveling eye contact with you as his rough hands finally cleaned off the stain. By then, his face and you were so close together, your noses were barely touching. You let off a smile, thanking him for the help. He only smiled at your face, but his hand still rested on your face. Breathing deeply, as you closed your eyes, the scent of his sweat mixed in with his cologne, the smell of smoky vanilla bourbon, and cedar wood, along with the smell of blackened cigar smoke. It didn't deter you though. You could feel his presence get closer to you, the heat of his face radiating into your own. 

You opened your eyes just in time as Erwin closed the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips harshly against your own. You gasped, the sudden intensity catching you off guard, the sudden pressure causing you to stumble back a bit. Reaching up to him, one hand reaching up to his shoulder and the other resting right underneath his jawline. He tasted savory, the lingering taste of your late-night dinner still on his tongue. It didn’t deter you, in fact, you only pushed against him, your panties beginning to soak as his arms reached around you, wrapping and picking you up with ease. He placed you right on his lap, his other hand leaving your face, sliding down your hips to underneath your bottom, cupping it before squeezing gently. 

You suddenly let go of the kiss, lips wet as looked down into his blue eyes, which seemed deeper in color than usual. His usual cerulean blues now looked more like royal blue as you pressed your hips against him. You could feel his hard-on pressing up against your panties underneath your thin dress. Your hands reached, running them through his blonde hair. He smirked, lifting his head to look up at you.

“Erwin,” was all you said before he kissed you again.

You were much more ready for his kiss, accepting it with equal pressure. Unconsciously, your hips began to move above him. His gentle squeeze turned brutal as you rutted into him more, your juices beginning to seep into his rough jeans. Your hands soon left his hair, sliding down his neck, your delicate touches only causing him to shiver against you. Your manicured nails soon reached down to his shirt, the first few buttons unfastened already. Unbuttoning the rest, your hands grazed over his muscles, over every ridge and every scar from years on the job. He shivered under you, letting go of the kiss for a quick moment. 

“So fucking long,” he groaned, moving up against your ear, “I’ve waited for this.”

Before you could say anything, Erwin cut you off, pressing his wet lips behind your ear, trailing down to your neck. Steadying yourself, digging your nails into his side as he reached your collarbone, nibbling away at it. The aching within you only growing, and sweat beginning to drop down your back, seeping through your thin dress. His head soon dipped to the valley between your breasts as your own hands slid down to his jeans, fiddling with the belt that held them up. Erwin’s large hands left your bottom, reaching under before grabbing at the fabric. 

You could hear a stretch, the sound echoing through the room as you gasped, lifting your head to glare at the sudden cool air breeze against your back. 

“Erwin! I really liked that dress!” 

He only chuckled, seeing the rest of the scraps falling off your body, leaving you and nothing but your drenched panties. He only groaned at the sight, his hands leaving you as they shrugged off his vest, unwrapping his scarf. You assisted him, gliding your hands underneath the sleeves of his shirt, before sliding the shirt off his body. Once off his body. You threw the shirt into an obscure corner, before facing him again. Erwin thumbed at your panties, hooking underneath the waist and thigh band before slowly pulling it down. Your arousal dripped as you clenched around nothing, resting your naked body against Erwin’s half-naked own. Gasping as cool air hit your clit as he pulled your panties down fully, your nails digging into his biceps. The around you was hot as you lifted your legs up as best as you could, helping him slide the clothing off fully of your body. 

Seeing as you were fully naked while Erwin was still in his jeans, your hands gently brushed down his arms, reaching to his belt before slowly beginning to unbuckle it. At the same time, Erwin leaned down towards you, lips pressed against your neck. Hands fumbling as you shivered, the feeling of his trailing down your neck, towards your chest. His own hands slide up and around your waist, sliding up your abdomen before reaching your breasts. His large hands reached your breasts, pushing and massaging them. His lips soon wrapped around your hardened nipple, before sucking away at it. 

“Fuck,” cursing and gasping as a rush of euphoria shot through you. 

The fingers on his other hand squeezed your other nipple slightly, just enough to increase the inciting feeling rushing through you. Your hands slide up, grazing against his slightly scarred back, reaching into his soft, blonde hair before gripping harshly. The sensitivity in your nipples only amplified as he sucked at it. You let out long breathy moans as he teased you, letting out a particularly high-pitched moan as he suddenly pinched and moaned at your free nipple. Soon after he let up, the cool air hit your wet nipple before moving his attention to your other one. His hand slid back down your body, sliding in between your legs, before slowly parting your thighs, revealing your drenched cunt. His long fingers slipped in between your folds, swiping up and down in between them before slowly pressing his finger against your clit.

“Erwin,” you gasped, pulling on his hair, causing him to groan, lips still wrapped around your nipple. 

His finger continued to press and slowly rub circles into your clit, collecting the juices that continued to seep out of you. Your hips ground against him, your body aching for more, something else to fill the need trying to build within you. Erwin’s actions taunted you, his finger slipping in between your folds, the tip of his finger teasing the entrance to your hole. Your back curled as he slowly, ever so slowly, pressed his fingers inside of your, your arousal making it easier for him to slip inside of you. Your hips jerked and buckled, craving more and more stimulation. As he moved his finger, his mouth let go of your nipple, before resting his head right on our shoulder, lips lined up with your ear. 

“More,” you cried, burrowing your face into his shoulder. 

He only chuckled, his raspy chuckle only rousing you further, “you know you have to relax for me,” he mumbled. 

Taking a breath, you tried your best to, release the hold you have in his hair, sliding them and crossing them behind his neck, holding him close. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, before pressing another finger inside of you, “open up just for me.”

The stretch was slightly painful, but as quickly as the pain came, it went. You cried out even louder against his ear as his thumb pressed against your clit. Erwin’s fingers moved up and down inside of you, just as he began to nibble and kiss along the outer part of your ear, his heated breath only causing you to shiver and shudder against him. You tried to move your hips along the movement of his digits before a loud smack rippled against your skin, the pain heated so gratifyingly against you. 

“Stop moving,” his voice was harsh, it caused your heart to skip a beat. 

You trembled in his hold, but his voice commanded you, taking charge as your movements suddenly slowed down to a complete stop. 

“Good girl,” he groaned before continuing his actions. 

You could only whimper as his words, combined with the increasing pace of his fingering only caused the aching feeling building within you to surge and skyrocket. You basically drenched his fingers as he made his way with you, fucking you with his fingers while playing with your clit. Letting a high-pitched moan, you curled over, forehead resting right against Erwin as heat surged up and built within you. Your already quivering body trembles further. 

Suddenly, before you could reach that high peak, Erwin suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you shivering, cold and empty. You couldn't help but whine in his arms as he lifted his hands up, his two fingers and his top knuckles covered in your arousal. He soon pressed his hand against his lips, tasting your juices before licking his fingers clean. Once finished, his now-free hand joined his other, gripping your ass. Without warning, he suddenly stood up, his grip around you only tightening to keep you up in the air as you shriek, your arms tightening around his neck and shoulders. 

“Erwin—” you shrieked as you were lifted up into the air. 

Below you, you could see his pants and boxers pooled around his ankles before looking up to look at him. With no warning, you leaned towards him, capturing him into another kiss as you could feel him lifting the lower part of your body up, readjusting him and yourself. You melted into the kiss, your arms sliding back to allow you to hold his head between your heads. His usual cleaned-up hair was messed up, slightly drenched with sweat. Saliva was exchanged between the two of you, tongues swirling within each other's mouths. 

For a moment, you let go of his kiss, lips still pressed against him as you whispered, “I need you inside me, please, please, please, I can’t wait anymore…”

Erwin didn’t say a word, only enrapturing you into another kiss. Eventually, you could feel the tip of his hard-on pressing up against you, parting your inner labia. You let out a restrained moan into his mouth. With no other warning, he pressed on, overwhelming you even further. You abruptly let go of the kiss as you let out an impassioned cry, tongue falling out of your mouth as you brace yourself. The intensity had you convulsing within Erwin’s arms, your shaking legs easily held together by his strong arms. You could hear Erwin grunting and letting off heavy groans as he began to bottom out into you. His motions started off slow, just like his fingering actions before, allowing you to get used to his large size. The heated pressure around adding on to the sweat dripping down your body as Erwin began to move. 

“Fuck,” he cursed in your ear.

“Erwin,” you called out his name, laying your head on his shoulder as your face twisted in intensity. 

He grunted against you before speaking lowly into it, “Move your head, wanna— fuck— wanna see your pretty face.”

His voice was thick and sweet, like the most delicious chocolate cake, it coaxed you, as you moved your head, your locs brushing to the side as you gazed into his blue eyes. His pace quickened, the wet smacks echoing through the room, adding volume to your already thunderous moans. It was overwhelming, Erwin was overwhelming, a man who commanded the space around him, you couldn't help but succumb deeper and deeper to his glamor. He ravished you, his restraint breaking more and more as he savored your expressions, your sounds, and even the way you smelled. Your juices leaked all over the both of you, his hips plunged into you, the tip of his cock hitting your very core. The two of you bring out the best and worst in each other. 

You cried out his name once more, your body lurching against him, “Erwin, ahh—” You were suddenly cut off by your own lewd moan, dripping in lust. 

Erwin let off a deep groan disguised as a chuckle as he felt you involuntary clenching around him, the sudden tightening pushing him to a whole new level. His once strong-rhythmic thrust became erratic in nature. 

“You gonna come for me, love?” He groaned in your ear, the grip he had on your ass bruise-worthy. 

Nodding your head erratically, you only had a moment’s reprieve before your climax came rushing at you at full speed.

“Aaaahhh,” you threw your head back in ecstasy as you went still for a moment, everything tensing over as your orgasm washed over you. 

Erwin wasn’t letting up, as overstimulation began to set within you, your recently mind-numbing orgasm not helping you. You could do nothing but hang off for Erwin as he basically used you like a fuck-toy until he had reached his own peak. With a few final grunts, you could feel him spilling inside of you. The room now only echoed with your heavy breaths. Slowly, you opened your eyes, looking at his drenched blonde hair before using what little strength you had to pick up your head. The two of you locked eyes before breaking out into soft smiles. The two of you placed soft kisses on each other, as he turned around before slowly lowering your connected bodies on the couch. He slowly lowered you there before easing himself out of you, a slight hiss leaving your mouth as he did so. You grimaced as you felt your mixed fluids beginning to ooze out of you. You bent down, picking up your panties before sighing at the scraps of your dress on the floor. 

The two of you cleaned up, with you walking around in Erwin’s shirt while he stood in nothing but his boxers. He helped you put away the soup, and clean up the bowls you used. Once everything was clean, he dimmed out the latent, swallowing you all in darkness as you waited for him by the stairs. You could see his presence right in front of you, before squealing as he suddenly picked you up, bridal style. 

You wrapped your arms around him, before speaking, “you always gonna pick me up like this?”

He hummed, as he made it to the top of the stairs, shifting his body towards his bedroom door. He easily opened it with one hand whilst still holding you up. His room was quaint, with not many decorations, the few you could see were mainly photo frames of him and his team of police officers. Erwin laid you comfortably on the bed, however before he could walk to the other side and join you. A loud knock echoed through the house, jolting the both of you. You looked over at Erwin whose relaxed expression now took on a more hardened one. He walked over to his dresser, grabbing a pair of sweatpants before slipping them on. 

“Stay here,” he told you, seeing as you were beginning to push yourself off the bed. 

His words were stern and clear, so you sat back against the bed, watching him exit the room. Outside, Erwin walked down the stairs before eyeing his front door. Besides him, he reached into a drawer to pull out his gun. He slowly walked towards the door, slowly placing his hand on the knob before looking through the peephole. Erwin saw the familiar figure, relaxing as he opened the door fully. 

Standing on his porch was his secretary, a person he was not planning on seeing until he went in for work the next day. 

Erwin placed the gun on the table near him,, “almost thought you were someone else, what are you doing here?”

She let off a little awkward smile before handing him a file, “for you, sir.”

Erwin blinked, before taking the file and flipping through it. The familiar notes and words had Erwin furrowing his brow.

“This is the Kierstein report… Jaeger was supposed to get this for me, yesterday.”

The secretary shrugged her shoulders, “you know Eren was never going to get it done, especially when it comes to Jean. So it was either get it done or get Jean on our ass again.”

Erwin sighed, smacking the file against his head slightly, the migraine that had gone away slowly returning as he thought about his most ambitious officer. 

“I’ll have a few words with him tomorrow, get home, go get some sleep.” He called out to her, beginning to close the door not before hearing a noise, resembling a giggle coming from her. 

“Oh I’ll definitely get some sleep tonight, I wonder if you will as well.”

Erwin stopped in his tracks, turning back towards his secretary before seeing her point toward his chest. Erwin glanced down only seeing small red and purple bruises littered all over his neck and upper chest. His secretary could no longer hold back their giggles, muffling them with her hand as Erwin felt a flush of heat run through him. 

“Just, just get home.” He said sternly, before slamming the door shut. 

He waited until he heard steps leading away from his porch before letting out a breath, leaning against his door for a moment.

“Erwin,” your sweet voice called out.

He looked up, seeing you standing at the top of the stairs. He could see the light from the hallway illuminating, allowing him to see you standing there, still in his shirt. 

“Everything okay?” you asked, beginning to take a step down. 

He nodded his head, before placing the file on his living room table and heading towards the stairs, “Yeah, just someone dropping off a report, I’ll be up soon.”

You nodded your head, fiddling with the buttons before slowly turning your body. He could only stare as you slowly unbuttoned each and every button, before slowly lowering the shirt, revealing the top half of your naked body. You said nothing, only giving him a knowing smirk before walking to the right back to his own bedroom. 

Erwin glanced over at the report, before looking back up the stairs where you had just stood before him, enticing him. With no other thought, he left the report on the table before scaling up the stairs, making it to his bedroom, and shutting the door behind him. 

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[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

Hi! congrats on the anniversary 🫶

For the fanfic request: Ichihime + second date ( first kiss ) 🍓🍞

As the Rain Falls

Rating: K/General with mild themes

Setting: little over a month after We do Knot Always Love You

Synopsis: Ichigo and Orihime go on their second date, both anxious and excited about their new relationship, but Ichigo has things on his mind he can’t shake off.

AN: First up, a sincere apology for how late this is!!! >_< I must admit, I kept getting writer’s block with this one, but I still wanted to persevere with it and try to write for different characters and a different ship.

At the same time however, I'll admit I’m nervous about this. I've never written a fic where Ichigo and Orihime are the main characters, and I know that they'll be written out of character as a result. And it's me, so this is probably more angsty than you wanted ^^;

I tried, and hopefully it makes for an entertaining read.

Hope you enjoy this one!

_______________________________

Ichigo tucks his hands into his jacket pockets and bounces his knee as he looks around AB Cookies.

Arisa, who is currently at the counter, told him Orihime was getting changed and should be out soon. It had been only two minutes since then, but why did it feel like longer?

He sits in the corner at one of the few indoor tables, mostly ignored by the customers coming and going from the store. All around him, the room is brightly coloured in pastel hues and styled in a way that makes it appear homely and cute. If not for Orihime, he wouldn’t normally come to a place like this.

When another minute passes, he thinks to pull out one of his textbooks and study while he waits. He only gets as far as frowning at his backpack. Why is he so nervous? It’s not like this was their first date – that’d happened just over four weeks ago – so where is this anxious, fluttery energy coming from?

He blinks at hearing Orihime’s voice drift from the back. He straightens when she emerges from the doorway behind the rows of breads. She’s dressed in a bright sweater and skirt, and her boots clack on tiles then the wooden floors when she lifts the counter top and steps out to his side. She smiles widely when she glances at him, and he can’t help but smile back in return – she’s one of the few people who has that affect on him. 

She only gives him her full attention after she says goodbye to Arisa, who in turn thanks her for her work. He stands up, shouldering his backpack as she approaches.

“Kurosaki-kun,” she greets. “Sorry for you keeping you waiting.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t take that long,” he says. He tips his head towards the exit. “You wanna get going?”

They end up in the main street of Karakura Town, walking towards the shopping district. Cars rush by and people crowd the streets. Above them is a mostly blue sky, but clouds linger.

“How was your day?” Orihime asks.

Ichigo shrugs one shoulder. “Nothing much. Just went to lectures mostly.”

“Which ones were they for?”

“English studies. What about you? Anything happen today?”

“A lot, actually. I told Ari -- Oh, wait!” She comes to a stop and reaches into her bag. “Are you hungry?”

Before he can even respond, she pulls out a bread bun and breaks it into halves. “It’s got red bean paste and strawberry in it,” she says as she offers one half to him. “It’s spares from the batches I made this morning, and I thought, since you were up early…”

He smirks fondly as he takes it from her. It’s so typical of her to think of something like this. “Thanks, I think I need this.”

She practically glows, and he has to bite into the bun to not embarrass himself with a stupid grin and chuckle. He hates how this reminds him of the way his father acted around his mother. He hopes to never be like that with Orihime, but even so, there are those moments where she gets to him, where her happiness and excitement become almost infectious.

“Is it good?” she asks.

He nods, mouth full, and it only makes her beam wider. He bites harder into the bun the next time as heat rises up his neck.

“So, I made that new donut for Arisa-san and Ichinose-kun,” she says.

“Oh, the one with seaweed, strawberry, and cashews?” he asks, trying to keep the wariness out of his voice; these new recipes she comes up with always mean a lot to her, even if he can’t comprehend them.

“Yes! Although I had to change it. I think I brought them around to it after create one without the cashews, but I'm starting to wonder if maybe peanuts might work better.

"I-Is that so?"

"I just think it needs a salty or nutty element! It still tastes good with jut the seaweed and strawberry though. They’re thinking about putting it in the front.”

Despite his reservations, he can’t help but he proud of her and his smile returns. “That’s great, Inoue.”

Something must show in his expression, because a faint blush colours her cheeks. “A-Anyway, after that I was speaking with Arisa-san…”

They keep walking down the street as Orihime talks and occasionally nibbles on her half of the bun. He listens to her, and as she carries on about her work – about the small things like finding a gacha trinket on the ground on her way to work, and bigger things like a corporate event who requested catering from the bakery – they wonder from the streets to a nearby park.

For not the first time, he thinks about how peaceful its' become. He still fights Hollows, but isn't as often as it used to be. There’s no looming threat over them, nothing to stop them from being by each others’ side. It’s why, along with seeing how happy Renji and Rukia were, and the former’s encouragement, he finally decided to ask Orihime out.

Their first date had been clumsy in the first hour. He’d planned dinner and a movie, a typical date night according to Keigo and Tatsuki. After Ichigo arrived late and Orihime got flustered trying to reassure him it was fine, the air had been awkward around them. Just the week before he’d confessed to her, and she did the same, and now it’s apparent their feelings for each other were more than either of them thought. Gradually, after they'd finished their dinner and they left to go see the movie, things eased.

Perhaps that where these fluttery nerves came from, left over from their last date. He'd thought he'd be more relaxed consider today’s date was even simpler: a walk in the park, then find a restaurant for a late lunch. It’d been Orihime’s idea, claiming she didn’t need to do anything fancy or complicated with him. He can’t help but suspect she had him in mind though, knowing he’d be tired from his studies and late nights of fighting Hollows and performing konsos on a wondering Souls.

Yes, he thinks as he finishes off his half of the bun, he’s grateful for this peace.

However, like how Zangetsu’s voice had haunted him in the months after the Arrancar’s invaded Karakura Town, there’s a part of him that lingers in the back of his mind, skeptical. It makes him notice the crowds all around them. Parents watching their children run and play around the park. Couples occupying benches or walking past them in their own worlds. A group of teens in school uniforms hunched over a manga magazine, laughing at something they’ve read. Everyone here had been under threat just over three years ago, and they hadn’t even known it. He’d defeated Yhwach, and yet he’s still haunted by ‘what-ifs’. What if he hadn’t defeated him? What if another threat lurks right beneath them, one that hasn’t been seen yet?

“Kurosaki-kun?”

Ichigo blinks out of his reverie. “Ah, sorry.”

Orihime blinks up him in concern, and had brought them to a stop at the park’s fountain. “Is something wrong?”

He thinks to hold it back in, to do what he always did and bottle it up. He’d stew on it, but it would pass or continue to linger somewhere within him, as everything else had. But what had helped him get over it? Rukia had, and Chad, and Uryu, and Renji, and Orihime. He should be able to tell her anything, especially now that they’re going out.

He doesn’t want his mood to bring the date down, and he knows if he says it’s nothing, she’ll drop it, not wanting to pry further. Even so, he knows she’ll worry about whatever is bothering him. He can’t do that to her.

He’s not sure where to start, but he opens to his mouth to say something.

And then there’s a plop on his head.

____________________________________________

Orihime had imagined scenarios like this many times. Ichigo would grab her hand and they’d rush down the street, the rain falling over them as their feet splashed through puddles. Somehow, the clouds would be thin enough that the sun would peak through, making colours more vibrant beneath the glittering rain. At some point, in slow motion, Ichigo would look over his shoulder at her, hair somehow unaffected by the rain and haloed in a lighter shade of orange. smiling confidently, and saying something heroic or sweet.

And right now, Ichigo turns his head over his shoulder, cringing with his bangs plastered to his forehead, panting for air, and trying to blink the rain from his eyes. “You okay?”

She too has to get rid of the drop falling around her eyes to see him, wiping them and a strand hair stuck to the side of her face away with the heel of her palm. “Y-Yes! But where are we going?”

The rain comes down in torrents, drenching them in less than a minute. Around them, everyone is rushing out of the park and back to the shops that line the streets. She considers asking if they can head back to AB Cookie, but considering how soaked they are, she doesn’t want to cause any trouble for the staff in cleaning up after them; they’d probably make puddles in the middle of the store.

They run across a zebra crossing, and then next thing she knows, Ichigo brings her under the awning of a closed up shop. They almost hit the shutter door, stumbling under the shelter.

They take a moment to catch their breaths, with Ichigo hunched over and Orihime leaning against the shop’s garage door.

“This rain came out of nowhere!” she says. “The forecast was sunny. Guess I should’ve known better when I saw the clouds.”

Ichigo rises from his hunch. “You can’t predict the weather, Inoue.” He half teases and half reassures her, and she’s grateful for it.

“It’s still a shame we can’t go to the park now,” she says.

“We'll go another time. There's other stuff we can do. Unless you'd rather head home."

"Maybe we should wait until the rain stops...or there's less of it."

He only hums in acknowledgement.

It’s only then she realizes he still hasn’t let go of her hand, and she fears looking down at their joined hands and drawing attention to it will make him want to pull away. She discovered very quickly he got embarrassed by PDA – whether it was between them or with other couples. It’s oddly cute to her, and she herself still wasn’t sure if she likes it either. Holding hands like this, though, is something she’s always wanted.

The skin of his palm and fingers is rough from callouses, but the back side is softer than she expected. And it’s warm despite the rain.

Without meaning to, she squeezes his hand, and he looks down. Instead of pulling away, he tilts his head to the sky, almost shyly. She withholds a bewildered giggle. He can still surprise her, it seems.

It’s a minute later when the rain lessens.

“It’s not as bad now,” she says.

“Yeah…” He’s not fully there, his gaze turned up at the clouds. The rain affects him in a way she doesn’t fully understand yet. In the years since she first met him, whatever grips has gradually faded from what it used to be.

“We can probably head…” she starts, but trails off.

Now what? They can’t go to the park, and they can’t go out to lunch with their clothes so drenched. Maybe they should call it a day, and try again for next week sometime. But as Orihime eyes Ichigo, seeing the slight clench in his jaw and the way his eyes narrow at the sky, she knows she can’t leave him alone.

“Um…”

At her nervous fidgeting, he blinks, coming out of his daze, and looks to her. “What is it?”

“We can, um…w-we can head back to my place. It’s close by, so…”

Orihime tries and fails to push the heat rising to her face. Yes, Ichigo has been to her place many times before, but not since they started dating. Who knows what could happen? She tries to dismiss the sparkling fantasies that threaten to take over her mind.

“If you’re okay with that," he says, "just until the rain stops.”

“Of course!”

“Well, then, thanks.” He gentle pulls on her hand. “We should get going.”

He begins to lead her back out into the rain again.

“Actually…”

“Hm?”

At his raised brows, Orihime quickly bows her head. “Ah, yes, sorry! I uh, just…actually, nevermind!”

“Hey, come on. What is it?”

Orihime drops her rueful smile with a defeated chuckle. “It’s just that, after our date, I planned to go to the convenience store to pick up a few things. With this rain though, it’s probably better that we just head back.”

“We can still stop along the way. You’ll need help carrying things, right?”

She’d never point it out, but there were times she senses an eagerness from him, one he’d keep reserved under many layers. It’s another endearing quality she secretly loved about him. With a nod, she says, “Then, if it’s not too much trouble….”

He gives her a small smile. “It isn't, Inoue.”

She has to turn away as her heart skips a beat.

They make a quick dash to the convenience store that’s a few minutes from her home. She stops under the entrance’s awning and grabs the end of her skirt to wring some of the rain water out. She barely hears Ichigo’s quiet chuckle over the rain. “Don’t think it’ll make much of a difference.”

“Well, we might end up making puddles in there,” she reasons.

“It’ll be fine, we’re not staying long, right?”

As soon as they enter the convince store, Orihime bows apologetically to the cashier. Ichigo just sniffs, trying to cover up another chuckle. She’s quick to go the aisles for milk and despite the slight indignation rising in her, Orihime is glad to see faint amusement in Ichigo's expression.

She’d also imagined a scenario like this, albeit without them being wet and cold. Somehow, though, she liked how this was turning out instead. Maybe it’s knowing Ichigo is following her as she went down the aisles, his footsteps always behind her or at her side. Maybe it’s the fact that when she picks up a cup of noodles, he asks what she’ll make with it, and even as she lists off all the ingredients that sound odd to put with it, he offers weary encouragement. Maybe it’s discovering he likes a particular brand of rice crackers when she goes to pick up her usual one, and explaining to him why she prefers this one over the others. They’re small, mundane things, but every little part of it is something she can say she’s experienced with him now.

Everything comes to a halt when they get to the freezers. Orihime almost frowns when she has to crane her neck to see the milk she normally buys. “They must have moved everything  around, these never used to be so high up.”

She opens the fridge door and stands on her tippy toes.

She stops when Ichigo steps up behind her and reaches his hand into the freezer. “I’ll get it.”

Her back is almost pressed against his chest, and as she turns to look at him, she’s struck once again by how tall he is. From this angle she can admire the strong line of his jaw, and watches a raindrop roll off it and hit the collar of the shirt beneath his jacket. Once he hands her the milk, she snaps out of it. “Ah, thank you!”

However, neither of them moves. Orihime stares up at him, and he stares back. Her heart flutters at the hint of softness in his gaze. It’s nothing like her fantasies, where there’s sparkles and flowers magically appearing around them. She swallows, unsure if she’s bold enough to do what she’d always wanted to ever since he confessed to her.

Before she can think any further, Ichigo clears his throat and abruptly turns away. “Sorry, I, uh…”

Orihime shakes her head and takes the bottle of milk from him. “Ah, i-it’s fine! I, um…hey, look, there’s my favourite icecream! I should grab a tub while I’m here!”

She quick to move away, and she’s certain the heat colouring her face will dry her scalp in no time.

Several minutes later, she pays for the milk, a tub of biscuit and tea flavored ice-cream, three cups of noodles, two ramen kits, and a packet of rice crackers.

When they step back out, he holds out his hand. “I can carry it.”

“There’s no need.” When his hand doesn’t drop, she takes out the milk. “If you’re sure.”

__________________________

Whenever Ichigo enters Orihime’s house, he’d find his gaze wondering over to Sora’s photo. It happens not long after he takes his shoes off and he steps into the main room, and today is no exception as he removed his jacket and hangs it on a free hook; it drips over his shoes. He only looks away when Orihime puts the shopping bag on the kitchen counter.

She puts away the ice-cream, and it prompts him to hand her the milk again. “This too.”

She comes over to him, takes the bottle, and as he makes to step into the main area, she holds up her hand.

“Hold on a second,” she says before turning and putting the milk in fridge.

He doesn’t move beyond the tiny foyer, waiting for her after she dashes off to the bathroom. She comes out with two towels and holds one out to him. “It’s not much, but maybe for your hair?”

“You didn’t have to,” he says. But the it occurs to him he’d probably drip all over her floorboards. “You sure you’re okay with me coming in?”

There’s a pause, and a faint blush rushes up in her face. “O-Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Think I’m going to make everything damp,” he says while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’ll dry eventually.” She lifts the other towel. “If you’re worried, you can always put this over the cushion at the kotatsu.”

He normally wouldn’t care, but he takes both towels from her. “Yeah, sure.”

“Make yourself comfortable,” she offers. “I’ll just go get changed and then make some tea. Or would you like hot cocoa? I got some a few days ago, I haven’t tried it yet.”

 “Tea is fine.”

She smiles with a nod before going to her bedroom.

He remains near his shoes, drying off his arms, face, and hair before going to kotatsu. After laying the second towel down over the cushion he sits. He continues patting down and drying his hair as he waits. He ignores the rain thrumming gently against the windows, and once again, his gaze wonders to Sora’s picture. A bowl of nashi pears lies on one side of the photo, and a recently lit incense stick on the other.

A part of him wishes he’d properly met her brother while he was still alive, so that Acidwire and the night he was brought to the Kurosaki Clinic weren’t the only memories he had of him. Compared to everything else, however, it feels like a distant memory, and it thankfully ended in a better outcome than others.

Orihime emerges from her room, now dressed in a new sweater and jeans, and a headband pushes her damp hair behind her shoulders. She hums while boiling the water and taking out the teapot. Watching her brings a sense of calm to him, and a relief that doesn’t surprise him as much as he thought.

It’s not the first time Ichigo wonders if everything they’ve been through has affected her. Does she still have bad dreams? How much had she told Tatsuki? Were there things she hadn’t told him yet? Would she ever tell him?

And perhaps that is what bothered him most. He, Orihime, and their friends had to live with those memories, and all of consequences that came with them as the world went on ignorant to what had almost happened.

He’d been almost ordinary once, going to school and getting into trouble with humans. At the time seeing the Souls always reminded him he was anything but normal, and since becoming a Shinigami, any chance of him being fully human had been dashed.

It had been his choice, one he didn’t truly regret despite everything that came after. He had been powerless to help others in need, to protect those he cared about, and Rukia had given him that chance on that fateful night.

But Orihime had been ordinary – or at least, more ordinary than him.

He didn’t know much about her parents, but of what little he did know, he knew they were the kind of people he would’ve kicked to the curb. And yet she had gone through that and was still able to smile, just as she had with everything that happened in Los Noches.

So caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice her approach until she sets a mug down in front of him.

“Here,” she says. “It’s just black tea, I ran out of green. Didn’t think to get it while I was at the convenience store, silly me.”

He manages a faint smile. “It’s fine, thanks.”

She settles down to right, wrapping her hands around her own mug. After a moment, she says, “Before…there was something you were going to say. Do you still want to say it?”

He stares down at his dark reflection in the tea, considering. “It’s nothing major, and it’ll pass.”

She shuffles, and then her hand slides along the table and into his view, stopping centimeters from his. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she reassures. “I don’t want to upset you.”

“You don’t,” he says, raising his gaze to her. “You never have.”

It’s a bold confession from him, and he’s saddened to see her withhold a wince. Perhaps there are still some things she holds from the past, misplaced guilt in her role of situations beyond her control.

“Inoue.” He gingerly takes hold of her fingers, and struggles to find the right words. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Maybe it is.” She brings her hand around his, her grip warm and firm. “Whatever we face, it’s together, right?”

For a second he’s brought back to facing Yhwach. He’d asked Orihime to be his shield, to fight at his side against a foe of unknowable strength, for a future that wasn’t guaranteed.

How could he have been so foolish right now?

He can’t help but smile ruefully to himself. “Yeah, of course.” Then, after swallowing thickly. “Are you happy?”

It’s a sudden question, one he hadn’t thought to ask but had come forth anyway. Sensing how loaded it is, Orihime looks out the window in thought for several heartbeats. Her lips form a slow, sweet grin. "I am."

He tries to ignore the skip of his heartbeat, and the uncomfortable way his throat constricts. Before he can say anything, she continues, and her smile wavers slightly. "What about you, Kurosaki-kun? Are you happy?"

He thought it would take him longer to answer, but it comes to him with a few memories. The first is returning to everyone after Yhwach’s defeat. Despite the mix of emotions -- the melancholoy of Yhwach’s final words and the pinch of fear for the unknown ahead of them --  it all dulled away to an intense relief at seeing his friends. Uryu stood far away, watching as everyone rejoiced at seeing one another. Ichigo knew a conversation would be had some point, but the fact he was there was enough hope for him for now.

The second was his high school graduation. He grumbled on the day it on the day, and despite how mundane it would seem to many compared to what he’d achieved in other worlds, he felt a small sense of pride at having finished it. Isshin of course was an embarrassment on the day, one minutes shouting his praises about Ichigo and the next weeping about how he's grown so much. He'd taken a picture of him and his friends together, one that Orihime had a copy of on the wall near her bedroom door.

The last was watching Renji and Rukia get married, seeing their friends and the Shinigami happy for them. It was only then the peace truly hit him, that maybe he can gather the courage to tell Orihime how he truly felt. And the excitement and anxiety that came when she said she was free three days from then.

The nerves from before hadn't just come from a change in their relationship, from friendship to something more, but from the thought it could be disrupted by a new threat. But he had chosen this dangerous life, and she had joined him and others in it. They all know the risks, but they didn't have to always be hyper-vigilant. They had to live.

“Yeah, I am.”

At her widened grin, he remembers for a short period of time after Yhwach’s defeat when Orihime had put on smiles, attempting to mask the sadness and pain she truly felt. According to Tatsuki, it had been while he was in his comatose state after Aizen’s defeat. In both cases, that gradually changed.

In the face of everything that had come before and because she had the courage to in the face over everything that tried to take it from her, she still smiles and laughs. She helps others and protects Karakura Town. He can see why otherwise would under-estimate her – he may have once himself – but in truth, she’s probably one of the strongest people he knows. He’d grown to love her for those reasons and more.

And he loves her for it. He gets strength from her because of it. He can go into this peace with her because of it.

It’s only then he realizes he’s gotten closer to her, so much so her face takes up most of his view. She stares at him wide eyed, her lips parted and her cheeks flushed as she tries to stammer out his name. It's just like before in the convenience store; she'd captivated him with just a look.

“Ah, sorry,” he chokes out, but he barely leans back. It’s as if he’s frozen in place, and the only way to come unstuck is to lean forward.

With one last gaze flickering to her lips, he leans in. She does the same before he closes his eyes. He’s be ashamed to admit he’d imagined this at more than once, but it’s not how he expected it to be. It’s soft and awkward, both of them frozen in place, afraid to move despite how misplaced their lips had locked. He pulls back a little and tries again. If Orihime’s quiet, pleased sigh and the way his heart beats faster is any indication, it’s better.

A warmth spreads through him, radiating from his chest and thrumming through his fingers. He’s light-headed as they pull apart, and when their eyes flutter open, his heart skips a beat at seeing the softness in her expression. He’s with her, holding her hand,

When the haze of whatever this is has worn off, he’ll elaborate further on what bothers him. And when he does, she’ll listen intently, holding his hand, and smile when he he’s done, and be glad he told her. More than that, however, she’ll be glad they can go together into this newfound peace.

Dealing with the memories of the darker and weaker moments had become easier him and the others as time went on. He, Orihime, and their friends kept walking forward in the face of it, and eventually alongside it, and one day, past it as they forge their futures.

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

A sign of affection from me is when I inevitably use too much lotion (happens much more often than it should) I will grab a friend or family members hand (they're always okay with this don't worry) and rub the excess lotion on their hands, think we can get rogue's (writers choice) reaction to something like this? idk i just find it a subtle but nice little way to show you care about somebody without using words.

"Lotion sharing" Rogues Party

This is very cute. You know, it's been a minute since I've done a rogues party. Lucky thirteen, woof! This is a good ask for it, too. All versions are general interpretations!

TW: None

Riddler

Sucker. Sucker, sucker, sucker- no, not you. Not this time, actually, this is all him. His very human need for affection (particularly physical in his case) often gets pushed down so far it's almost euphoric when he gets it again. It's very addicting and he doesn't want to let your hand go as it presses softly into his skin.

Instead he just gives you this goofy attempt at a smooth look, and discusses the positive brain chemicals attached to physical. Runs his fingers over the back of your hand with a toothy smile. You must have missing him while he was working, hm?

He forgot to rub the lotion in and he remembers after glancing down. A nervous laugh and he's rubbing it in.

Penguin

His hands sometimes resemble talons with the way he keeps them. So you might want to give him a little heads up or he'll accidentally scratch you. It's not intentional and he'll apologize if it happens. And don't suggest a manicure, he hates that garbage. Unless you want to wait on his hands in a skimpy outfit and- You cough, "Off-topic."

This will absolutely turn into flirting oftentimes. He asks specifically you never do this except when the two of you are alone for image-purposes. He'll gladly take some off your hands when he can make goo-goo eyes at you with no one else around, though. oh, he might need more. And yes, you should definitely help him with that-

Mad Hatter

He already has the softest hands. It's because despite all the work he does with clothing, drugs or machinery, he's always wearing some kind gloves. Protection of hands is key, after all. He can be messy or chaotic in every other sense, but he takes this seriously.

He'll give you a silly lopsided smile and say, "Dearest, this will never soak in!" He'll be rubbing it in all over his arm and down his elbows if he has that much exposed. He won't waste a fine gesture as this!

Scarecrow

If you catch him when he's really working, he might not even notice at first when you take one of his hands to rub the excess lotion on him. A lot of "hm? Yes, mm-hm-" Then his brows furrowing as he processes the tactile signals in his brain. He looks over and scrunches his nose when he realizes before rubbing it in. Then he's asking if you think you're quite cute.

Otherwise you don't get much of a reaction. He just takes the lotion, rubs it in and has this tiny amused sort of smile on his face.

Victor Zsasz

Oh that's nice. How did you know he wanted lotion? Your skin is so smooth and soft... He clicks his tongue, your wrist now in his hand. rolling it over and around gently. He likes seeing it against the many marks over his skin. A blank canvas- The things he'd do if you let him.

If he's feeling a particular way he'll press his thumbs into your palms, working the muscle. Feeling it move under his finger while working in the lotion. The way those dark eyes bore into yours, its like he's trying to be under your skin.

Killer Croc

He always needs lotion, so this is perfect. If his skin gets too dry, the "scales" get pronounced and even itchy. Plus growing up in a black community it was ingrained in him early on to use lotion to avoid looking ashen.

His skin sucks it up like water to a sponge sometimes. This is not a man who practices self-care. Yeah, he's not outright reckless and he at least tries now but stuff like that tends to fall to the wayside. Lotion him up, baby!

Harley Quinn

She SEES you put too much on and she's already got her gloves off making grabby hands. Come here sugarpop and lay it on her!

The reason she's so willing is she ALSO will do this. When she was in a more "proper" state she'd simply rub it in over her neck or her elbows. Can't seem too clingy or touchy, right? No one likes that. Now it's just another way for her to to show her love! So... both of you will definitely have moisturized hands.

Poison Ivy

What is this? What are you- oh. It's a sweet gesture but... darling, what lotion is this? You bought it? Ivy sticks up her nose. With her sometimes odd anatomy she's very careful with what she slathers on her skin.

However, you just gave her the perfect excuse to give you homemade lotions. Being a former scientist, she knows her way around an emulsifier. Plus her knowledge in all natural ingredients...

It smells amazing and has zero grease. Also she says it doubles for wound care? The only thing is sometimes bees want to get a little too close. Now you two can share lotion, though.

Two-face

Harv likely makes some small quip about you thinking his hands are dry. What, his dry calluses scratching you up, doll? Harvey simply tsks as he rubs it in and thanks you. He does tend to forget to use anything when in the throes of plotting.

Yet it's Harv that seeks you out when he sees you using lotion. Are you going to use too much? There's almost an anticipatory anxiety to it. He caught on early that it was affectionate, so he wants to nurture that. Even if it's just in his small way of saying he loves you.

Still probably gives you shit about it, though.

Black Mask

No, what is that- Let him see the bottle. He's very paranoid about things put on his skin because of his backstory. Granted, the disfigurement of hundreds of women due to faulty product put out by Janus Cosmetics was his fault, it did make him wary of the horrific things a cream can do to you.

Now that he knows this wasn't an attempt on his life (trust issues, much?), he's more accepting of the gesture. He doesn't "get" it but he'll allow it. Sure, sure, he's on a call. You can rub it in on his hand for him, sweetheart.

Mr. Freeze

....This will not work. Most of the time he's wearing gloves so he can't really just take lotion from you. Here, let his mask fall and you can rub in some excess on his face.

If you do this, your fingers are going to stick for a moment on his icy skin. He feels the burn but... it's alright if it's you. He'll take the sting for a taste of your affections.

The rare moments he's out of his suit, though, he'll gladly take some off of your warm hands. Feel you massage it in over his bony ones. It's so intimate. Because of his... condition... he can't allow himself to crave touch the way a "normal" person would. But he can allow these small indulgences.

Ra's al-Ghul

Oh. What a polite gesture. He was rather confused by it at first, unused to this particular love-language. It's not exactly something most people would feel comfortable doing to him. Or something he'd even allow.

What kind of lotions, do you like, love? He could get you the richest concoctions on Earth, if you wished. He is already getting used to the two of you sharing moments like these...

Bane

What are you doing? He kind of just stands there holding his hands out while you give him the excess. No one has ever done this to him before so the gesture is rather lost on him. For all his intellect and knowledge, he knows not the softness of sharing lotion with a loved one.

When you try to explain it, he breaks into a gentle smile. He sees now. Thank you for giving him this. He still has a lot to learn of a world and people who love him. Such an innocent, small thing that means so much.

[mollysunder]

I think the writers of Arcane have a chance to really solidify an interesting dynamic between Caitlyn, Vi, and their greater relationship with Zaun. I'm specifically thinking about what happens when Caitlyn finds out that it was Vi and her gang that robbed Jayce's apartment and caused the explosion. While Vi learns that her and the gang were actually fleecing a Kiramman property.

Caitlyn spent so much of the first season pulling back from lethal shots even with Jinx. All for her efforts to lead to the death of her mother by Jinx's hand. Then Cait learns that Jinx has been responsible for so much destruction for so long that has specifically affected her family, might completely send her off the edge. Cait would view her inaction, not firing at Jinx, as a her greatest mistake and she can never let anyone or Vi convince her to back away from a threat. . I can already see her become more intolerant to any threat or possible deviance, and let's face it, Zaunite culture is inherently deviant to Piltovans.

The revelation would also implicate Ekko in the heist because he was the one that stalked Jayce all the way to his apartment to case the joint. I can only see Caitlyn and Ekko's relationship further souring, for Ekko it would be because her plan put him in the line of fire against enforcers he stated kill his friends. But Cait might actually see how messily connected the Undercity's criminalty is connected to its citizens and how early it starts, in her perspective.

For Vi, the writers would finally have more time for her to respond about her feelings of herself before and after her imprisonment. It would be one thing for Vi to say she regrets that she did it, the revealing question is really why would she regret it. Because she almost hurt Cait and Jayce, her new allies? That it brought enforcers to the Lanes? That it's the reason her life was completely destroyed beyond repair? And would she apologize for almost hurting Cait without her knowledge? Or is she only apologizing because, with Powder gone and Zaun unrecognizable, she's one left and needs to hold on to anything that might still matter?

I'd imagine in the midst of conflict Caitlyn and the Medarda team might try to spin this as propaganda against Jinx as the one true source of the war. Jinx, an 11 to 12-year old professional criminal and master of destruction. It might work on Piltover, but it'd be a misstep in PR to get cooperatives Zaunites because everyone remembers the aftermath of the heist. Everyone in the Lanes would remember enforcers flooding the place, casually brutalizing their friends and families. How Sheriff Grayson's men would smash windows and shoot at children, and for what? Some stolen trinkets? For an accident where nobody died in Piltover, but everybody in Zaun had to be terrorized for it.

And after all that, it's not like the Kiramann's suffered any losses from the accident, in fact, they came out of better than ever in the timeskip. And now they're hearing from the daughter of the very Councilman who made a fuss and pushed with the rest of the council to have Zaun flipped upside down for 4 kids. One of whom is standing next to Cait. All in all, the whole revelation will serve to further alienate Cait and Vi from Zaun. the other Vi because And maybe Vi could learn more details about the aftermath of the heist, like

[fayes-fics]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

I was tagged by @suspendingtime. Thanks my dear. 🫶🫶 Apologies I'm a little tipsy right now haha. 🤪

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

155. Ahem, hush you. I started writing 18 months ago. When I get a new hobby, I REALLY lean into it.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

481,485. Yup, almost half a million. Again, shhhh.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only Bridgerton. Look, I have my hyperfixations, ok?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

On AO3:

In His Lap (Short Fic) 181 

Temptation 177 

The Lesson 155 

Insatiable 149 

Are We Friends? 148

Tumblr notes:

Second Son 3,436

Sonnet #29 2,199

Rescue & Ruin 1,841

Awakening 1,827

Temptation 1,788

Wattpad readers:

Innocence, 30,600

Benedict Bridgerton Regency One Shots 23,000

Kinktober 2022 collection 16,300

Anthony Bridgerton Regency One Shots 10,400

Moments 5,800

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. Always. It's just wonderful to get feedback. I read and respond to every single comment. They mean the world to me, truly.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably No Good Advice. I ended up writing Moments multi-chapter as I (and a friend) couldn't bear the idea they didn't end up together lolol.

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

All of them, tbh. I can't write an unhappy ending. Maybe the mushiest is Second Son, Moments, or It Had To Be You.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Luckily not much yet. I did get one hate anon early on. It wasn't about a specific fic, though. It said they didn't know why I had a 'please don't steal my work' disclaimer (the standard one that most writers here use) cos I was delusional that my work was worth stealing. 🤷‍♀️

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, it's my trademark. It's rare when I don't write smut. 😬 I'm not sure what is meant by kind of smut. I've written it all, from vanilla romantic sex to kink threesomes with harnesses and double penetration lol. I haven't had a request yet that I've turned down due to sexual content.

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

Not yet. The closest I've gotten is It Had To Be You, which is based on When Harry Met Sally.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, sadly, it has happened quite a few times now. I was so fed up with filing copyright takedown notices that I set up a Wattpad account to try to counter it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I've been offered but have turned it down. I have no way to check that any translation would get across the nuance I aim for. So I know that may be anglo-centric, but its how I feel for now.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet, but I am always threatening to lolol.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Hmm, tough one. I do love Kanthony tbh.

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

Benedict as a virgin. I just urghhh.... it's been a WIP for 17 months now. I just dunno why I won't finish it; I just get the feeling I won't.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have no bloody idea. I'd prefer readers answer that tbh lol. My inclination is to say I don't have one, except perhaps a willingness to describe sex in ridiculous levels of detail? Is that a strength?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

World building. I will do anything to shortcut it. I'll find an economical way to describe a situation e.g. she's a widow; they're old friends. Got it? Good! Let's get down to business.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done a smidgeon of French as I studied it for ten years. But I doubt I'd do another language tbh.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Only Bridgerton so far.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Bloody hell, I have no fucking idea. It literally changes depending on my mood. But I don't really care for my own writing that much, all I see is flaws lol. I guess the universe I would most like to write more for one day is Mrs Bridgerton and its sequel. Does that count?

No Pressure Tagging: A couple of my talented writing moots were tagged along with me on this (the lovelies @colettebronte and @eleanor-bradstreet). So lets go: @thebabblingbrookenook @fiction-is-life @ferns-fics @silverhallow @mothdruid @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @urchintoast 😁🧡🧡

[kitkatopinions]

When Blake had Sun by her side she was strong willed, capable, and motivated while fighting for what she believes in. Now that she's with Yang? She's like a totally different character and not in a good way.

I think there were a couple of contributing factors in the big Blake change.

One of them was definitely the relationship with Yang. People have pointed out that Yang underwent some changes too, they leaned into her more aggressive hotheaded tendencies and made her more 'butch' than she was before, and made her concern for her family secondary at best and near non-existent at worst, and meanwhile Blake got meek and cutesy and shorter than she had been and in need of saving more often than not. I'm not trying to say that they shouldn't have gone with the bees as a ship, but the way they did it, it almost feels like they felt like they had to change them to conform to some standard queer girl couple stereotype, and Blake suffered the most from the change.

But on top of that, I think that a lot of the change came about from how wildly they mishandled the Faunus-racism arc and their desire to get distance from it. They always did use Blake as a mouthpiece, whether it was in the early seasons when she was calling out Weiss but letting her get away with never apologizing or when it was season five and they used her to say their 'faunus on faunus crime' bit where she told the Faunus that they should be helping their oppressors fight off the bad civil rights group. So it really isn't surprising that when they were trying to make everyone forget about their mess ups and move on and see Adam as nothing but an abuser, they made Blake suddenly not care about or bring up Faunus rights at all, never mention her parents, Ilia, or Sun ever again, and made her suddenly 'the perfect palatable abuse victim.'

Even in V5 when Blake was wrong (because the writers were being awful, I have a hard time blaming the character for how the writers misused her,) she still cared and she was still passionate and would talk about the injustice of how the Faunus had gotten shuffled off to Menagerie. But they couldn't have Blake still care about the issues and be willing to fight the powers that be in V6 onwards, because that would remind everyone of how the writers screwed up the Faunus-racism thing. And meanwhile, she has to be 'the perfect palatable abuse victim' to make Adam look as bad as possible so that everyone will unquestioningly hate Adam and forget about how misused the Faunus and the White Fang and he were. So if Blake is a sad, flinching, wide-eyed, meek person who can't stand up for herself, fans will say "see what Adam did to her!" And not "Why did the writers make the only pro-Faunus rights group featured in the story a group of evil terrorists that our heroes must fight." Fans will say "Poor Blake went through so much at Adam's hands, how can anyone say such a vile abusive monster ought to have been portrayed differently?" And they won't say "Why did Blake's abuser have to be a leader in a pro-Faunus rights activist group and why did he have to have a cattle brand on his face indicating the hate crime he suffered?"

Blake stopped showing the 'less palatable' side affects that could be traced to her abuse, like a hot temper and her obsessive tendencies and her difficulties getting close to people and her more cynical side, and it's just a little hard to not think that it was purposefully taken from her to make her more palatable and pitiable so that more people forget about the injustices Blake and her people have suffered, and instead more people would think her only problem only ever was Adam, and focus more on how he hurt her than how the society they weren't interested in dissecting and putting effort into had hurt her and they'd focus more on Blake personally getting better and not in the society itself getting better. Whether or not this was done intentionally, this is how Blake's transformation feels. And just to clarify, I'm not saying that Blake's journey as an abuse victim and her path to getting better wasn't important. I think it was very important, but the writers actually haven't done a real 'Blake heals' story first off and as I've pointed out she actively feels less healthy now than she did in the first five seasons, and second off, it clearly wasn't the only important part of Blake's story and the rest mattered too. But they wrote out Blake's care for the Faunus and her activism, and heavily emphasized her role as an abuse victim while changing everything about her character to make her closer to Snow White from the 1937 Disney movie than she was to her V1-5 self.

So yeah, I think the relationship with Yang was definitely a contributing factor, but I think their attempts to move on from and deflect from their mishandling of the Faunus-racism allegory was also a really big contribution to Blake's character change.

[klutzyroses]

Hi! This is my first time requesting so I'm a bit nervous, I wanted to as of you could do mc who has mommy issues, like her mom mentally abused her, I'm sorry if this is too much too ask you can ignore it if you want(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

P. S I have been a fan of your work lately and have been stalking your account for any new updates lol but keep up the good work your an amazing writer (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Ah, it's people like you who keep me writing, anon! Thank you!💖💖❤❤

IkeVamp HCs: Abused S/O

How do they handle an s/o who has been abused by her mother?

Suitors: Napoleon, Vincent, Isaac, Dazai

Warnings: Mentions of emotional and mental abuse, parental neglect

Napoleon

The former emperor was never one to pry directly into people's affairs unless they were willing to tell him and that went for his nunuche as well.

However he couldn't help but notice a sudden shift in her behavior one day when she started acting a little different.

Any criticism, teasing or any scolding she received, she took especially hard. Harder than she normally would actually.

When Sebastian had lightly scolded her over a mistake she made while Napoleon was present, one would think he had driven a knife in her heart. He hadn't said anything out of the ordinary or anything particularly cruel, but the darling looked so crushed that both men were taken aback, especially when she hurriedly excused herself and ran out the room, near tears.

Was it even a question that Napoleon went after her almost immediately?

He really didn't take long to find his belle at the gazebo on the bench, her trembling form obvious from miles away. He wasted no time going up to her and pulling her into a warm embrace.

He will wait until she is calm enough to open up.

His grip tightens around her just a little, to keep himself from shaking with anger when he hears all about her cold and abusive mother, how she berated her daughter for every mistake she did and made her feel like nothing she did was good enough.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he let's her cry on his shoulder, running his hand up and down her back.

"It's okay, don't cry, mon ange, I'll protect you, and your heart from now on. So don't cry, okay...?"

He is a man of his word and he had yet to break any of the promises he made to the woman he loves.

Vincent

He had been awoken by whimpering next to him to see his sunflower crying in her sleep. Her beautiful face was wet with droplets of sorrow and distress as her soft lips mumbled apologies to someone, and promises to do better.

Worried, he gently woke her from her nightmare, unable to stand her tears for long.

If there is anyone who can understand the pain of being unloved by a parent, it's Vincent. So when she opens up that her nightmare was about her mother, her very vulgar and ill-tempered matriarch who made her life nothing short of a misery.

Vincent tenses as he listens to his beloved weep her sorrows onto his chest, his heart tightening.

With anger? Sadness? Sympathy? All three?

He couldn't be sure, but it was not a pleasant feeling. He could definitely relate to what she was feeling and it was only because of the sunflower in his arms that he could ever rise above it. And he would do the same for her.

He raises her face, holding the pretty visage in his hands as he kisses each tear away with such heart-rending tenderness, that the woman's sobs died down to quiet whimpers which are briefly cut off by a peck to the lips.

"Shh, it's going to be okay, scatje. I'm right here. I'll always be right here."

He would spend as long as he needs to shower her with the adoration she deserves. Until those woeful tears turn to the brightest of smiles.

Isaac

The physicist can very vaguely relate to having an emotionally distant mother, but to be treated in such a way? That was cruel.

He can't help but feel terrible for his darling when she opens up about how unkind her own mother had been to her and how it impacted her from early childhood.

He suddenly wishes he hadn't asked about her family. It had only been a casual question, that led to the poor dear to tear up.

He couldn't understand how anyone could hurt such a sweetheart?

If her mother was so cruel, how did she bring such an angel into the world?

Questions he could debate later but right now, his love needed to be comforted.

He tenderly takes the tearful maiden in his arms, tentatively as to not alarm or frighten her, tucking her close to his heart that aches at the sight of her tears.

The awkward physicist may not be as silver-tongued as the blasted authors that tease him on a daily basis, but he would be damned of he couldn't pour every ounce of love inside his heart into the fragile beauty in his arms.

"Please don't be upset...I can't stand to see you cry. I...love you too much."

He tries, he really does. He just wants to see that beautiful smile and nothing else.

Dazai

His heart aches, more so than usual when he finds his beloved Y/N in tears one evening. She was cooped up in the library, all by herself in just her nightgown, staring far off into nothingness with just a handkerchief to wipe her never ending tears and the many books to keep her company.

He found himself moving towards her before he could stop himself and seating himself beside her before taking her in his arms, earning a startled gasp from the distraught maiden.

He doesn't push her to tell him what's wrong but he doesn't plan on letting her go until she is better. It's then that he finds out about her experience dealing with her cruel and negligent mother.

How she called her names, how she blamed Y/N for everything wrong in her life, how she always insulted her in every possible way...

As she weeps through her tale, she is pressed to her lover's chest, so she couldn't possibly see the tension in his expression. But if she looked up, she'd see his lips pressed into a flat line and his golden eyes narrowed ever so slightly as they gleamed with the almost imperceptible flicker of anger.

He doesn't speak until she is finished and he only holds her tighter, cradling her as her body wracks with sobs as he whispers sweet words of comfort into her ear. He wants to let her know that none of those cruel insults were true. That she was a wonderful person and she meant the sun and moon to him.

"You're adorable, even when you cry but please, dry your tears my love, I'd much rather see you smile. If you don't smile, I'll just have to make you, won't I?"

He may not be able to make her happy, but her smile is his peace and she is his joy. He'd tell her he loves her as many times as she needs to hear it. The man is good with words.

🌸

[inkybloom-luv]

Words Unsaid 3, the crumpled page

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Ahsbjsbsjs putting this A/n here today?? Ausbshshs I hope y'all eat this one up too ngl cause the feedback has been,, immaculate sjsbsjsbshshshshdh not over it at all y'all make me giggle and kick my feet <33333

Can be read as x reader since I don't usually put the name down

635 words

Part 1 Part 5

Part 2 Part 6

Part 4 Part 7

tw: mention of near death (drowning)

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

It's been a while since I wrote a letter, I misplaced the last paper and cannot find it, so I'm starting a new one. I wish I had very much more to say but I haven't been seeing you and I've been so exhausted I've reached my breaking point. Heck. I almost drowned, simply because the water breathing potion wore off early. I guess being out of this world does that. But it hasn't stopped me from panicking. I'm recovering fine but it's very lonely in ramshackle. I already mentioned I have barely any friends and the ones I do have are very busy. Jack comes from time to time and Leona sends Ruggie to check on me. Winter holidays are starting soon. Will you be leaving? I hope I'll see you before you do. I want to look at you again, see those pretty eyes one more time before you're gone for a while.

I'm not sure it's a crush that I feel for you. I'm not saying I would see you as a friend or anything, I definitely feel romantic feelings for you, but my concern is they feel.. stronger than a simple crush should. I long to kiss you, hold you. I want you to love me as I do you. Jamil Viper, you have my heart.

I've made up my mind to visit Scarabia today. I heard the dorm is staying here. I want to see you. I need to see you. I'm so happy to see you.

The housewarden Kalim had something floating around his eyes when he was acting up. A spell. But I haven't seen it before. It was odd, pretty even. It reminded me of you but I've hardly a clue what spell it is, when I get back to ramshackle, I'll be researching, surely that spell is the cause of your woes. And I will find out what it is, if only to slightly lighten the burden placed on you. You who is like a walking dream, the most wonderful of desert mirages. I wish I could tell you to your face.

The paper was crumpled and slightly ripped at the edges. Ink had somewhat covered a large portion of the paper that held scribbles about theories of what was going on, and further ramblings about just how beautiful the writer thought he was, how they longed for him, loved him even. And it was not Inky that held it. Dark eyes skimmed the text that grew more and more unreadable. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Blast it all. Hissing filled his ears. Hissing that was not there. His mind played tricks, not yet recovered from the heavy strain his body had been under. He hated it all, hated how he had accidentally blinded himself. How he'd overlooked something so obvious, she did always wear her heart on her sleeve.

He wished he could read more, but he'd dripped it full of ink. He'd crumpled it. He'd thrown it aside. By coincidence it wound up in his grasp again when he had returned to Scarabia, sitting down to rest his aching and unrecovered legs.

Jamil messed up. He really did. He felt blind and stupid and most of all he felt crushed, he was sure that the prefect no longer felt that way about him. He was sure she hated him now. How else would anyone feel if they'd have done to them what he'd done to her? For the first time he deeply regretted lashing out at someone. His anger wasn't even directed at her. He felt his eyes glaze over, blinking away his tears. It was his fault. But maybe. Maybe he could express himself, his sorrow and his apologies. He would have to. If only to selfishly soothe the painful feeling in his chest.

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

@leonistic

@azulashengrottospiano

@dove-da-birb

@krenenbaker

[submalevolentgrace]

hi hello, sorry it's another amputee question, idk if you get tired of these. i found your blog and i like how you share your experiences, thank you for this. im abled myself but im writing a story, and i want my main girlie protag to have a prosthetic leg and here's the thing, i dont really have a reason for it. i guess it says something about me, don't know what, but i just don't know if that's considered, well, offensive, or rude, or something. i don't plan to have any focus on it in the story. the medium is a comic so it's going to be always visible as a prosthetic, but i don't want to explain it in-story either, no backstory, she would probably just have it since early childhood. it won't affect the plot. and that's where i don't know if that's even okay. it feels weird to want that, to include that, almost as if i need to somehow turn the story about it, to have some kind of statement. which i don't actually want to make or even feel able to make as never experiencing it. i want for her to have a prosthetic leg just because. and i don't have anyone to ask this, and i don't mean to offend you by this, and i apologize if i somehow did. but if it's okay with you to answer, i'd appreciate reading. if it's gonna be an angry rant i'd like to read it too. i know you're an upper body amp, but idk, i feel like this question isn't much about the use of prosthetics and more of the general amputee characters, and im scared to ask reddit, i don't even know if that ask made sense. thank you if you read that all, please don't feel pressured to answer. hopefully you'll have something good that brightens your day a little!

thank you, i actually really appreciate this ask! sorry that the response is long and wordy, i got a bit carried away…

so, i've gotten a lot of asks/dms/notes from writers asking about how to write their amputee characters/ocs after my big "writing advice" post, and i think i've ended up ignoring every single one of them, because… well, not to be rude to all those people, but they seem to have completely bounced off the whole 'know why you are writing this' thesis, too caught up in the excitement of their own fantasy to even notice the bit about understanding your own intent as an author and why that matters, let alone really engaging with it. and at that point, i don't think there's any advice or feedback i can give that would break through, especially when it seems what most people are seeking is little details and nuances to add authenticity to their token representation characters or unintentional stereotypes.

but, without any other details or nuances that shape a character's portrayal, based solely on what you've said in this ask, i feel like you're on the right track and probably gonna do fine. the thing that sticks out most clearly to me is how you phrase it, "i WANT to write a protagonist to have a prosthetic leg", you are acknowleding your role as omnipotent author, and i honestly think that's worth a lot more than many people realise when it comes to crafting fiction. you've acknowledged your desire for this character to be a certain way, and you're being introspective about the source of those desires and how it will come across - and that means you're almost certainly also thinking about how it interacts with the rest of the story, how it serves your themes, and how it will be interpreted and understood by the audience.

a lot of responses or people asking me for advice say things like "i am writing a character who HAS an amputation", implying it's an observable fact, pre-concluded before their authoring of them, and therefore something they're much less likely to examine critically. maybe it's unfair of me to draw such deep conclusions from shallow choice of language, but firstly, so many people have been far more obvious about it, saying a character "revealed" or "told" them about the amputation, or just straight up talking abot them as independent entities with their own agency, as if it's a biography and not fiction. and secondly, what are we even doing talking about improving the craft of our writing and how it will be recieved by the audience if we're not going to think about how framing affects interpretation? if someone is reaching out to me asking for writing advice, you bet i am going to assume this is a person who wants to improve the details of their own writing craft, and i'm going to critically engage with the tiny snippet of writing they've given me and analyse how it reflects on them, even if it is "just" a tumblr interaction. i don't even consider myself a writer really, the art i mainly dedicate myself to is music, but i still put careful thought into anything i write that's more than a few sentences, and think about the audience it will be seen by.

sorry, that's a whole other tangent… not at all about what you asked. but by way of example and segue back; what i see you reveal in the writing of your ask is a nervousness and anxiety to 'do well' in your writing, to create a character with an amputation in a way that holds up to scrutiny and criticism, and also a fear of what unfortunate things you might be saying and the responses it would provoke if you misstep. i can totally understand that, not just because you messaged me and i personally have a track record of going off on people lol, but also… yeah, people are very eager to judge and attack art based on a hidden metric of how 'well' it does 'representation' or handles things, and be vocal about the failings of things that make an earnest attempt. and i can see that it's very appealing to want to pull back and hide from that; a character who has a prosthetic leg opens you up to your audience critiquing how well you've handled it, most of them not amputees, many of them with the subtlety and media analysis skills of a sledgehammer… while if you write a story with no amputees in it, nobody has anything to critique.

unfortunately, no matter how well or carefully or authentically you write, there will always be someone engaging with it in bad faith yelling loudly about how awful you are; i recently made a short sharp post giving a trigger warning for medical abuse and body horror in the new zelda game that painfully evoked some of my own experiences, i still got people reblogging it telling me i'm ableist for saying disability is body horror (piss on the poor reading comprehension) and should apologise to all amputees (waves my one hand and nub around in a comical hello gesture). maybe that is on me for writing it quickly in an upset huff instead of making at least two proofreading and editing passes and oh geez, this is getting waaay too long and off topic. okay, to the point.

honestly, from what little you've told me, to be overly reductive, i'd give it a stamp of approval. sometimes people just only have one leg and that's fine, people are born like that, it's a thing that happens - and it doesn't need to shape the entirety of their lives, and reflecting that in fiction is more than just fine, i think it's what we need. sure any amputee character i write is going to be an overt commentary on ableism and medical abuse, because that's what i live, that's what affects me. but i know because i've watched their stuff on youtube, that there are so many people out there that were born limb different that just, don't care about it, and it doesn't really affect their life at all. if your protag has a prosthesis, sure she's had to get fitted for it and train for it, and it might benefit you to do an afternoon of research into that if you want to see how it might holistically flesh out her worldview (look up osseointegration vs external sockets, if you want keywords to help, look for patient experiences instead of doctors).

but also, if her other leg has finished growing and she's got a prosthesis that works, she may not have thought about it literally for years, maybe decades depending on her age. i had braces as a teen and it has zero impact on my life, i've had foot and back problems in the past, and it's irrelevant to me now other than getting new off the shelf shoe inserts every few years. i can think of at least one (australian) celebrity with a pretty long and successful comedy career who most people don't even know was born without one foot, it's just not relevant.

sometimes people just have things going on in the background that don't matter, and sometimes characters should have something just going on in the background too, no matter what "save the cat" sort of writing advice tells you. sometimes cutting literally everything out of a story unless it serves the plot or themes is bad actually, and i guarantee you, even as a hand amputee, i would absolutely LOVE to see a leg amp character who is just having a life, doing other plot relevant things. especially much more than i want to see all the characters of people leaving tags saying some version of "thanks OP, now i can write the suffering and torment of my oc much more authentically". think of the hypothetical little girl born without a leg that just wants to see someone like her.

and finally. what i think is maybe at the core of your anxiousness, at least to my read of your ask. you've thought about your role as author and self reflected about why you want to write a character with a prosthetic leg, and you can't find an answer in you, and you're not sure if that means it's something bad. well, assuming good faith from you, i think that's fine too. people who fetishise prostheses or amputations, people obsessed with the suffering or (percieved) depenedncy, or whatever else it is that makes them yearn to write their hacky awful robot arm characters; they probably don't do the introspection, and if they did, they'd find their answer right away (horniness or power fantasy usually), although i doubt they'd be honest with themselves about it, let alone others. assuming good faith and honesty, if you can't find in yourself WHY you want to write this character with a prosthetic leg….. it's probably just a harmless aesthetic preference.

if you wanted it to do cool things or make her more powerful or more special than others or be endless inconvenience and suffering or make her the chosen one because of it or something, that'd set off alarm bells for me yeah, and i'd be reading into it as a much more harmful aesthetic choice, and responding much more aggressively. but if you want to write a story about other things that features a protagonist who just so happens to have a plausibly normal boring prosthetic leg…. that seems fine to me, honestly. i tend towards having characters with certain hair and eye colour combinations that i find aesthetically pleasing, and as long as i'm thinking about how that could come across and trying to avoid any pitfalls around fetishisation and nastier implications, i think it's probably fine.

there are really only three concrete pieces of advice i would give you:

one, when you've got a cohesive first/beta draft, try to find at least one sensitivity reader who's got as similar disability experience as possible to your character (lower limb, same kinda circumstances, same general use of prosthesis), and listen to their feedback.

two, while i totally acknowledge that leg protheses can be super useful everyday kit for many people, i still have a general aversion to "this character NEEDS a prosthesis or they're helpless" readings, and many people don't want to or can't use leg prostheses… if it were me doing it, i'd make acknowledgement of that, and in a visual medium like a comic, i think that's as simple as having a single panel showing your character waking up in bed without the prosthesis, and maybe at her home there are forearm crutches leaning against the wall as background decoration. maybe if you have any scenes where she's woken up in the middle of the night, or interrupted before being fully dressed for the day, you could show them in use. but that's a personal value suggestion from me, your judgement or sensitivity readers might disagree on the importance of that.

three, you will absolutely need to establish as early and overtly as possible that the prosthesis and amputation DOES NOT MATTER to the story or her character arc. people still very much have a default normative body in mind when engaging with fiction, and anything that deviates from that will 100% be interpreted as a checkov's gun that they will be anticipating and theorising about going off, unless you squash that down. if you want to make a statement about it not mattering, unfortunately i think you're going to have to spell that out as obviously as possible without breaking the fourth wall, or else the audience trained on existing robot limb tropes will be waiting for the traumatic tragic backstory or secret rocket booster to become relevant.

but also…. i'm just some bitch on the internet, talking like i'm more important than i am, getting loudly angry about limb difference when i'm a pretty recent and unusual addition to the group myself. so like, don't take anything i say as absolute, and while it's always good to listen to others, at the end of the day you still gotta synthesise all their thoughts into your own.

i don't really have a nice concluding statement other than to say, thankyou for appreciating my post, and most importantly, thankyou for caring about the craft of writing enough to critically analyse your own authorship, and being curious about how to improve on a sensitive topic.

[sinelanguage]

20 questions for fic writers

taking from @fivedayslater who tagged anyone for this, i'll also pass around to 'anyone who wants to answer these questions is effectively tagged' but also @lostlegendaerie, @sharpenote specifically.....

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

36! not too shabby considering i'm not super consistent about writing.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

257,465! wow. jeez.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently One Piece, historically Voltron. 

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

predictably: this is almost entirely Keith/Lance.

Stormchasing: Keith/Lance handcuffed together fic i tried to pace like an actual episode! posting early in the fandom’s lifecycle gave it staying power, lol.

The Hustle: Keith/Lance espionage/heist-ish fic i cowrote with a friend. Really fun premise, and it was fun to co-write something!

Good Grief: Keith/Lance 5+1. i don’t remember anything about this.

Tallies: Keith/Lance 5+1. look… i wrote a lot of these.

Interstate 80: It’s not Klance! Jean/Marco, roadtrip modern day AU. i wrote this as a teenager, and i do not think this holds up whatsoever, but i made a lot of close friends through this fic and i'm fond of it solely due to that, haha.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i try! i have like, a half-life where if a fic is more than a year old i probably won’t respond because i’ve probably forgotten anything interesting to say. 

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Haha i wrote a hunger games AU for Attack on Titan? i don’t know what possessed me to take Jean Kirstein out of one horribly depressing canon and into another horribly depressing canon. 

Outside of that, i tend to stick to relatively happy or neutral endings. Most recently, Time Turned Fragile probably has the angstiest ending but i’d classify it as bittersweet really, even though Sanji like. dies? look. don’t worry about it

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uhhh??? this is harder to answer … Inaba’s Self-Appointed Cat Adoption Agency is a fic that is probably the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and as such has the most feel-good fluffy ending as a result.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not really! i’ve gotten a-bit-too-bold concrit in bookmark notes, but i wouldn’t really consider that hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nah lol. (gestures to weaknesses answer) it is not my forte, and i’m not super interested. 

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

not typically! I did write Turnabout Heart, which is a brief Persona 5 / Ace Attorney crossover, because I thought Sae being friends with Mia would be neat.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

ah, i found someone reposting my fic to wattpad once (username still attached). i just gently told them it was in bad form lol, it was wattpad in 2017 or so so I’m sure it was just some kid haha. they apologized and deleted it and their other stolen stuff so it’s all good.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! Someone offered once, but never got back around to me. 

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! The Hustle from above, and for better or for worst which was a fun last hurrah for Keith/Lance.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

It’s really funny because i’ve never written for any of my all time ships lol. Ike/Soren is maybe my ship of all time. Keith/Lance i’m still stupidly fond of despite myself. i never even finished Voltron.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

this has historically been time loop fics, but I wrote two this year!!!!! Congrats to me!!

Currently i’ve been working on a Robin-centric Robin and Sanji roleswap fic, and while i have a good grasp on the emotional/plot arcs involved it is not easy to write Robin POV lol. i can only write characters who are more emotionally stupid than me. i keep chugging away at it though.

for one I know I'll never finish: I have a brief outline/scenes written for a Professor Sada/Robot Professor Sada (haha. lol. sorry.) fic that would be titled Stochastic Parent as a play on the machine learning term 'stochastic parrot', i.e. the principle that AI does not truly understand language, merely parrots it back to the user. i could not figure out how to write this without being on the nose.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Bizarrely i really like writing action scenes hahahaahaha. It’s one of the few scenes in fic i really fully visualize, so translating that is fun. emotions in a fight are fun too, i like writing fear. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

The main one: romance! More specifically though, physical intimacy. hilarious to write mostly romance fic and be bad at it. i’ve been actively avoiding writing kissing scenes for the last 10 fic or so. at this point i’m trying to see how long i can go without one.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Think it’s incredibly neat to see but i don't think i'll ever do it. i feel like i need to return my linguist card for this answer....

19. First fandom you wrote for?

some different answers here: Fire Emblem (never finished or posted online), Harvest Moon (posted on deviantArt and deleted when i scorched my warrior cats username from the face of the earth), and Attack on Titan (first fic on ao3)

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

All time it’s Dead Horizon. i got to write a lot of fun environmental storytelling and horror in that one, and I liked the emotional arc overall. i really like environments/settings in terms of storytelling, and i don’t get the chance to write much of that since i stick with shorter one shots typically. Still very, very fond of it. 

Recent stuff it’s Same As It Ever Was. i’ve wanted to do a Once in a Lifetime themed timeloop for ages but I kept dropping the concept, until now! Finally I wrote a scene based off the ‘not my beautiful house, not my beautiful wife’ lyric! dream come true.

[the-carlos-cow-eyes]

continuing here bc tumblr won't let me keep replying to your post//

(...) bother trying to get to the bottom of it, instead they just avoided him and looked at him as if he was a monster. then madison tried comforting him just for chris to learn a few hours later that she doesn't trust him one bit and that she complained to travis about him. so while it wasn't right of him to just watch on as madison got tackled by a walker, I'm also genuinely not surprised that he didn't jump to protect her. then the knife scene in the mansion, what the fuck was up with that? I didn't understand why he wanted to wake alicia in the middle of the night, why madison had a knife on the nightstand of the bed when the staff took all their weapons, why no one tried to confirm that no, chris did in fact NOT hover over alicia with a knife like she claimed he did and how he did not have any intention of hurting madison or alicia. just straight up an unnecessary scene to vilify him and then outcast him. and don't get me started on how much of a failure as a father travis was. from the start, he never listened to chris, never took his concerns seriously, never knew how to deal with his son's rage. all he ever did was try to suppress or silence anything chris wanted from him. chris TRIED communicating with his dad on multiple occassions despite his resentment towards him. travis had no fucking right to give up on chris, and that his son ended up trusting two manipulative strangers more than his own dad is all his own doing. fuck ftwd and travis. chris didn't deserve to get executed in an almost off-screen death scene. the fucking disrespect

it just frustrates me so much because he clearly had so much untapped potential. I wanted to see a redemption and growth from him. but what do I expect from the same writers that took carl from me 😩😩

NO, BECAUSE YOU'RE SO RIGHT!! Madison literally gaslit him after he killed Reed and It seemed like Alicia tried to befriend him In Season 1, but then she just does a full 180 and starts treating him like shit. Oh, and don't even get me started on how he tried to save her from that walker when she was cilmbing the fence In Season 1 and then she completely elbows him In the nose and doesn't even apologize after? And then Travis tells him to calm down, like?? What?? If I had just damn near almost gotten my nose broken just for trying to help, I would have been absolutely livid! And It would have pissed me off even more If someone else told me to just chill out right after

But Madison and Alicia really did the absolute most to make Chris out to be an asshole and a monster. Travis was highkey a shitty father too like you and I both stated. Literally the only person (In my opinion) that truly gave a shit about Chris other than his mother was Nick. Nick was the only one who jumped In after Chris after he jumped off of the boat (which no one questioned either?). He was the only one who checked up on him after the boat was raided and he was standing watch on Reed. He tried to make Chris feel better about not killing Reed's whole group when they first came onto the boat. He talked Chris out of killing Reed too early. The first thing he does when he sees Travis again In Season 3 Is ask about Chris. And, quite frankly, he was the ONLY one who showed genuine emotion when Travis told him that Chris was dead. Like, the look on his face Is just pure heartbreak. And then no one even utters Chris’ name again after he's killed off and after Travis follows almost Immediately after. But It truly pisses me off that there wasn't more done with those two In particular. Both Nick & Chris were the outcasts In their respective families. Nick was able to talk to Chris more because he knew how It felt to be the odd one out. To be the one that everyone thought was gonna snap and break at some point. Nick could relate to him because of those specific aspects. Had they had more scenes together, I really think that they could have been friends. It would have been so Interesting to see their dynamic In Seasons 3 & 4 before Nick Is killed off as well, which also makes me Incredibly angry as well.

Oh, and I still stand by the fact that Travis didn't deserve to get that closure by killing Brandon and Derek. Like, he literally let Chris leave to begin with when he KNEW that those two grown ass men were being sketchy as fuck around his sixteen year old son and, once again, didn't even try to follow them after they left so he could get Chris back. I could literally go on and on about how much the characters around Chris (besides Nick) just piss me tf off

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

There's something about the Unburied spin off bringing in Jean Paul/Azrael right when you're reading through his comic appearances. Is there something you like about his characterisation in it or is it all bad?

the timing is BANANAS I cannot escape from this man!

but to answer your question like genuinely NO and it's because Jean-Paul doesn't really like... HAVE a characterization in Secrets in the Dark? or rather, he does, but that's not. that's not Jean-Paul.

like JP having no prior personal connection to Batman before he starts vigilante-ing is weird, and so is him apparently just deciding to go rogue as Azrael rather than being conditioned into it from childhood by his dad and the order, but the way he's set up as having been an uptight religious extremist from an early age is really where I draw my line on this one. hello hi, he MAIMED is roommate?? pre-Azrael Jean-Paul was Literally Just Some Guy! he was studying computer science, man! he was not a violent dude, all of that comes from the system and the hell training he got after his dad was murdered! idk, it really seems like the writers got the cliffsnotes on Azrael and just ran with "religious Batman who kills people" without wanting to look any deeper into what actually drives the character.

JP is filling kind of a similar role as Cornelius Stirk did in Unburied; they're both filling the role of being the most initially visible antagonist who presents an initial problem to solve but is actually being controlled by something way more convoluted than simple homicide. but even though Stirk is ultimately just a tool for Ivy, he gets a relatively large amount of development as a person! especially through listening to his sessions with Strange, you really get to see how he was pushed further and further into embracing his worst delusions and homicidal cannibal tendencies and how he got warped into being a tool for Strange and Ivy to use; it makes him a lot more sympathetic and shows how his vulnerabilities were exploited by the corruption within Arkham. it fits very well in a series that's surprisingly sympathetic to its rogues - Eddie being an unambiguously sympathetic victim of police framing and brutality, Batman apologizing to Tut for the medical abuse he experienced, Ivy herself starting out as a victim of abuse and sexual harrassment and ultimately abandoning her plan when she's won over with the power of gay love. the only villain in Unburied who DOESN'T get any humanizing moments at all, in my opinion, is Strange, and that's because he was a man who was 100% in a position of power over the people he was hurting and get that narrative sympathy.

Secrets in the Dark has kind of a weird moment of trying to have its cake and eat it too. it wants to make textual a lot of those more subtly presented ideas about criminals as people that started in Unburied, with Eddie repeatedly emphasizing the injustice of society looking away from convicted felons and treating their lives as expendable, while also like. presenting Azrael as a one-dimensional religious zealot who gets almost no interiority and is easily manipulated by other characters at pretty much every turn. (which is extra wild because like??? HELLO. if we wanted to continue that theme of exploring wrong committed by people in power, the Catholic church was a GREAT place to do that!) and there just doesn't really seem to be a satisfying stance on that other than, I guess, the Riddler is the POV character, so the murderers that he likes are fine but the one he doesn't like is fair game.

I uuuuuuuh had more feelings about this than I thought I was going to when I sat down to type this actually. justice for my boy Jean-Paul, that wasn't him.

[kpopimagi]

A Flower Under The Rain [Part 8-1]

Characters: Baekhyun, Kyungsoo and Kang Gyuri (OC) Genre: Angst, Romance Au: Hanahaki!Au  Type: Series  Word count: 6,865

It all began with a cough and then, a subtle sting in her chest. Kang Gyuri cried, knowing that in a matter of months, she would be another figure in the death toll of the most dangerous and cruelest outbreak in human history.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

It had been years since Gyuri felt so agitated that she went to bed early due to the excitement and was even more relieved that it was a nightmare-free sleep. She even let out a tiny squeal at how energized and rested she felt as she got ready, and she was more than ready to go half an hour before the settled time. Gyuri was all geared up, almost giving tiny jumps of impatience around her house as she waited for Kyungsoo to arrive. She was too hopeful and thrilled for her parents to refuse the invitation. If she wasn't mistaken, they seemed quite relieved, even if that meant having her out of their sight for the entire weekend.

“Aren't you forgetting anything?” Her mother asked for the tenth time as she inspected her suitcase again.

"Nope, so if Baekhyun calls…?” Gyuri asked in return, and the question made her mother stop her inspection with a grimace.

“You’re out on a camping trip from work.” her mother replied.

“He won’t buy it,” her father added from the couch, “You have never gone to one, and he knows that.”

“I know,” Gyuri grumbled, knowing perfectly well that her father was right. 

Baekhyun knew her too well, or at least she wanted to believe he did. And it didn't matter how much she wanted to keep him away and oblivious to her situation. A tiny and hidden part of her wanted him to try harder, to be his usual stubborn self and bring the truth out of her. Even if she didn't like the sensation in her chest and it was a constant nuisance, she wanted Baekhyun next to her, aware of her pain and willing to comfort her. Gyuri figured the curse wouldn't hurt as much if she had his arms around her and his gentle words constantly reminding her that she was much stronger than she thought. Suddenly upset, Gyuri had to fight back the urge to grab her phone, call him and apologize for being such a crappy friend. However, her internal rambling stopped when she heard a car pulling over by her house right on time.

"He's here." She mumbled to herself, almost tripping over her suitcase as she ran to open the front door.

Gyuri was ready to greet the writer when her smile fell for a second. While packing the night before, she wondered if Kyungsoo would wear his thick-framed glasses or would wear the ugly khaki pants and more silly stuff like that. However, when she opened the door, Gyuri never imagined a luxury car parked outside her house, without any signs of him but an unknown woman in the passenger seat.

"Hello," the woman smiled as she jumped out of the car, "My name is Anna."

Gyuri recognized the name right away. Kyungsoo mentioned his closest hyung, Minseok hyung, the famous editor, would tag along with his fiance. She would have struggled not to make any sound if the notion of meeting the girlfriend of the most famous bachelor in the country did not feel like a wrench in the cogs of her brain. No one in the entire world knew about her existence, except maybe for their families, Kyungso, and now her. Gyuri just found herself so starstruck by the gorgeous couple that she only stared at them as they introduced themselves. She was not ready to have someone as famous as the notorious editor greeting her politely and reaching out to help her with her backpack. If she wasn't startled enough by the situation as it was, her parents' reaction added to her anxiousness. Her mother gasped the moment she saw the editor, probably recognizing him. Her father immediately took over putting her luggage in the car, much to Kyungsoo and Minseok's bafflement and making the atmosphere a thousand times more awkward and tense. Thankfully, her mother dragged her father back into the house, and in a matter of minutes, they were on their way to the weekend trip to the mountains.

Still too surprised by the new experience, Gyuri limited herself to sitting still in the back seat. She took in the atmosphere of a close circle of friends she wasn't part of in complete silence and wondered if she was ready to socialize like a normal and functional human being. She tried to be smooth about it, but her attention kept dragging to Kyungsoo sitting beside her. He looked as relaxed as she had ever seen him, and she couldn't help but stare at him as he chatted with the others. Gyuri thought he talked to her a lot but soon realized she was mistaken. Right next to her was a talkative Kyungsoo, recalling past road trips with a pleased smile as he looked outside the window. Minseok and his girlfriend added to the stories, making the writer laugh in amusement. When Gyuri wasn't puzzled by the writer, Anna was a complete mystery herself. She was talkative and had a strong character which made it easy for her to take charge of the conversation. Without realizing it, they were all chatting and singing along as Kim Minseok drove them out of the city.

They arrived at a small country town at the bottom of a mountain a few hours later. The editor drove through the narrow roads to reach the cabin in a small plane at the top of a hill. By the time he stopped the car, Gyuri wasn't sure if she was more mesmerized by the beautiful sight of nature or utterly drawn by Anna's charismatic personality. Gyuri liked her sense of humor and was low-key envious of how articulate and easy-going she could be. It only made sense that a Korean woman raised abroad could be so exceptional and confident that even the intimidating editor seemed softer and more agreeable next to her. As if pulled by a string of her brightness, Gyuri jumped out of the car, followed the woman to the cliff edge, and stood by her side as they admired the small town below them. 

"I like this place so much." She mumbled to herself after taking a deep breath and then turned to Gyuri, taking her by surprise. "But I love that you're here."

"What?" Gyuri asked out of pure confusion that someone could find her discreet presence that enjoyable so fast.

"Kyungsoo bought this place long ago but doesn't bring anyone." She explained, "I'm glad he decided to bring you so I won't be the only woman again."

Gyuri couldn't add anything to that observation because Anna draped an arm around her shoulders to steer her away and into the cabin as the guys sorted themselves with their belongings in the trunk. Not wanting to be a nuisance as the youngest of the group, Gyuri focused on staying out of anyone's way and following every instruction thrown around. She helped Kyungsoo carry the suitcases through the narrow hallway that took them to the back of the cabin and froze when they arrived at the small resting area that connected the three big rooms and the bathroom. When he asked her to pick a room it was the moment Gyuri realized just how big the place was and wondered if it could even be considered a cabin.

"Minseok hyung and Anna usually stay here," Kyungsoo explained when they came to the main room that almost consisted of all the back of the cabin.

Gyuri panicked for a second when she observed the king-sized bed in the middle of the room and wanted to facepalm herself because of her naivety. For some dumb reason, and due to her lack of social experience, she thought she would be sleeping with Anna but was suddenly brought back to the reality that they were all grown adults spending the weekend together.

"I usually take the room with the balcony," Kyungsoo said as he left to show it to her across the resting area, "so I don't have to listen to them at night."

Quite baffled by that information, Gyuri walked in, looked around the room, and enjoyed the sunlight shining through the sliding doors that led to a small balcony facing the green hills. The view was beyond beautiful, and as if he could read her mind, Kyungsoo opened the balcony doors and let her out. The sound of nature surrounded her instantly, welcoming her to its arms. She felt the morning breeze on her skin, and her ears caught on the soft and lively chirping of birds. Everything was accompanied by a weird and peaceful silence she had never experienced before.

"You can take this room," Kyungsoo said after a while, startling her off her absorption.

Gyuri refused and apologized, ready to leave in the search for the remaining room no one wanted but Kyungsoo stopped her by grabbing her suitcase and placing it on the bed. He opened the closet and showed her a set of clean towels, sleepers, and various toiletries, as he explained that she was free to use anything she found there.

"You really don't want to hear them at night." He said with a small smile, and she noticed no hints of shyness on his face as if whatever they did at night was a common occurrence, "I'll take the one right across."

"You don't have to."

"You're my guest now," Kyungsoo said, finally setting everything down on the bed to look at her, "of course I do."

Feeling her cheeks blushing, Gyuri blurted something out and bolted out of the room to bring the rest of the suitcases and place them in their respective rooms. Not knowing what could make her feel so flustered around the writer, Gyuri pretended to be solely focused on the task and prayed that Kyungsoo wouldn't look at her like that again. Unfortunately, she was done too soon and hesitated to join the others as they chatted in the kitchen. She heard the editor laugh, and it reminded her that this was a completely new setting for her. That instantly made her feel her energy plunge and her anxiety skyrocket. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to walk to the kitchen, and once there, almost made her body feel like she had walked for hours.

“This is exhausting,” Gyuri said under her breath as she sat on the couch.

“Why don’t you take a nap?” Anna suggested, snapping Gyuri out of her reverie, “It will be a while until we all freshen up and prepare lunch.”

"I'm fine," Gyuri said, standing up, ashamed of herself for saying that out loud and letting an unnie manage everything alone.

"Lies," Anna said with a snort as she pulled some veggies out of their bags.

"Don't try to argue," Minseok added with a defeated pout, and his girlfriend handed him the veggies, "you won't win, Gyuri."

Gyuri did not know what to do. She looked at Kyungsoo seated in the living room, but he wasn't even paying attention to what was happening as he scrolled through his phone. Fighting the anxiousness crawling up her throat, Gyuri just stood there, paralyzed.

"Don't sweat about it," Anna said, and Gyuri found the woman looking at her with a kind smile, "You look tired. Go ahead and rest a little."

Unable to refuse, Gyuri excused herself and left the kitchen. She was walking through the hallway when she noticed just how exhausted she was. Her back started hurting again, and her eyelids felt heavier with every step. Fighting the sudden wave of sleepiness, she came into the room and observed the bed for a second, but too tired to do anything else, she crawled up to it and pretty much passed out.

The absolute silence woke her up. There were no laughing or animated voices chatting, not even music playing. Suddenly scared, Gyuri sat up, feeling groggy and out of place. She looked around the room, observed the green scenery out of the balcony doors, and gathered her bearings. However, confused by the lack of voices, she checked her phone, and a sense of embarrassment made her jump out the bed. It had been a few hours since they arrived, and she slept it through without a care. Still rubbing the tiredness of her eyes, she wobbled through the hallway as she thought of an explanation for her rudeness and a way to make up for it.

She walked into the living room to find Kyungsoo in there. She greeted him, partly embarrassed that she slept through the day but noticed him calling a hyung over the phone that he had pressed over his ear. Kyungsoo flinched in surprise at her sudden appearance, and mirroring the surprise in his expression, Gyuri apologized as she made signs for him to continue with his call. However, he put the phone down and hung up, although the person on the other side of the line was already speaking.

"Did you rest well?" He asked, and the phone in his hand started buzzing.

"I'm sorry," Gyuri said, embarrassment taking over, "I should've set an alarm clock or something."

"It's better that way," Kyungsoo added, fumbling with his phone to reject the call, "Minseok hyung would have dragged you out for a hike otherwise."

Gyuri made a face. Just imagining herself walking up the mountain trail made her skin crawl and her knees protest. Said reaction didn't get missed by the writer. Kyungsoo chuckled, finally leaving his phone on the coffee table and making a sign for her to follow as the device started buzzing again.

"Wanna see the garden?" He asked.

"Your phone…" She said, pointing at the vibrating cell phone, but Kyungsoo was already nudging her out of the cabin.

Giving up, Gyuri followed him to the front yard. She noticed dozens of clay jars on the floor. Kyungsoo explained the agreement with the closest neighbor to keep an eye on his property in exchange for lending some unused space in his yard to store the jars of fermenting kimchi and other pastes. Gyuri found the story interesting. She hadn't thought about Kyungsoo as a particularly social person and found it hard to picture him interacting with the neighbors, but at the same time, it made an awful lot of sense as they walked through the jars until they reached a wooden fence. 

Kyungsoo sled the weathered latch to a side and pushed the gate open to let her in. Gyuri gasped, surprised at the small yet well-designed garden beside the cabin, and wandered in, delighted to find herself surrounded by so much green. She couldn't tell just how many different types of shrubs, bushes, and herbs the writer was growing in such a place. Gyuri even let out a sound of absolute wonder when she found a small tomato plant in a corner. She also noticed the lack of flowers, but Kyungsoo didn't say a word about it, and she wouldn't ask either. She understood the reason better than anyone. 

Suddenly, everything was perfect. Gyuri couldn’t ask for better weather conditions to be out in nature to stretch her legs and fill her lungs with fresh air. At least that was what she hoped for, but she was just too tired to do anything else, and thankfully, Kyungsoo didn’t seem to mind. He even looked thrilled to stay behind with her and keep each other company as they walked around the garden.

"There's more?" Gyuri gasped again, "Just how big is this place?"

She stood there stunned when she reached what looked like the end of the garden, only to discover a small passageway hidden by unruly crawling plants that led to what she guessed was another garden. Looking over her shoulder to get an explanation from the owner, Kyungsoo simply shrugged and resumed whatever he was doing to one of the plants. Chuckling to herself, Gyuri followed the winding path made of flat stones and entered what felt like a secret garden with a small pond by the corner on her left, a wooden deck at the other side, and a couple of rocking chairs placed exactly under the shade of a tree that still had many years to see the best of it.

“What are you going to do?” She asked when Kyungsoo joined her, pulling a pair of gardening gloves on, “I’ve never seen you as an outdoorsy kind of guy.”

Gyuri couldn’t get an answer when a gust of wind swept around the enclosed garden, and the unmistakable scent made her stop and almost recoil. Kyungsoo seemed to pause for a moment as well. With his eyes closed, he took in the fragrance around them, and she saw the change in his features.

“I guess you can smell it too.” Kyungsoo pointed out.

"What is that smell?" She asked as chills ran down her spine. 

However, as afraid as Gyuri suddenly was, something compelled her to move and follow the writer. He walked around the wooden deck to the far back of the garden, and then she froze in absolute terror. Almost hidden and squeezed between the fence and a wooden post, a rose plant rose lush and healthy and almost as tall as she was. 

“Minseok and Anna don’t seem to mind,” he started, grabbing the gardening scissors, “so I guess it’s something only you and I can smell.”

Gyuri processed the information with renewed interest as they stared hopelessly at the plant, and it suddenly clicked in her mind. She observed the plant, the fresh green, the new twigs covered with sharp thorns, and the three lone bright pink roses fully bloomed and proud of their beauty. 

"This was her favorite flower." Gyuri meant to ask, but she was sure of her assumption.

She wasn't expecting any particular reaction out of the writer, much less an actual answer but it was clear she guessed right by the way he clenched his jaw and his brows furrowed.

“Are you going to cut it off?”

“I try,” He added, disheartened, “every time.”

Gyuri wanted to say something else, something to comfort him in a way, but Kyungsoo was already on the move, and what happened next made her stagger back in surprise. When Kyungsoo snapped the first twig with the scissors, she thought she felt it on her skin. The sensation was weird and painless, but when he cut off a second one, her skin was instantly covered with goosebumps. Gyuri felt the sharp edge of the scissors right on her flesh and almost tracked the trajectory along her arm when he snapped another twig. It didn't hurt, and she saw the hairs at the back of his neck standing up with every cut. Kyungsoo must have felt the same but was too preoccupied with getting rid of the plant once and for all that she left him there and sat down in one of the chairs.

The smell started to fade with every one of the scissors snaps, and Gyuri closed her eyes, taking in the relief slowly washing over her body. She raised her head to the sky, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight spreading across her skin and the fresh air moving her hair around. She rocked the chair back and forth, along with the sounds of rustling leaves and Kyungsoo cutting and shoveling the soil of his garden. She found the sound of him working extremely comforting, and when she dared herself to look at him, even if he was wearing his ugly khakis, she couldn’t deny the manliness oozing from him as he pulled a handful of weeds all the way out from the roots. Smiling to herself and feeling lighter than the wind, Gyuri slowly drifted into a slumber soon after and didn’t dream of anything else but green, sunlight, and working hands.

A small thud snapped her awake, and she sat up, unfamiliar with her surroundings but a pair of big eyes looking at her just as startled. Kyungsoo had dropped a spoon, and Gyuri noticed the whole cooking set-up on the wooden deck. Realizing that she had fallen asleep again, and for several hours it seemed by the clean and rose-less look around the garden, Gyuri covered her face in mortification.

"You hadn't had a proper meal since we arrived," Kyungsoo explained with an apologetic shrug. "I thought you might be hungry."

Gyuri nodded, too embarrassed to speak, and tried with all her might to convey her apology with her expression but it seemed like Kyungsoo didn't care that much. He chuckled, waving the spoon at her, signaling her to get on the deck with him. She practically jumped from the chair and joined the writer, suddenly aware of her growling stomach. Kyungsoo was right, she was starving, and her mouth watered when she sat down, and the smell of kimchi noodles reached her nose.

Gyuri pulled her phone out to check the time, and not only the shock of just how many hours she'd spent sleeping made her wince in mortification, but the lack of text messages uncomfortably twisted her heart. Suddenly, everything else got forgotten, knowing that Baekhyun hadn't even tried to reach her. She opened her messaging app and refreshed it a couple of times just to be sure any messages were still floating through cyberspace. When nothing came through, she then checked the wifi signal. Everything was working just fine. Baekhyun simply did not try and feeling frustrated, Gyuri locked the phone and dropped it under the table, far away from her sight.

The silence caught her attention. Gyuri raised her head to find Kyungsoo observing her small fit, but other than blinking a couple of times, he remained silent and prepared a bowl of noodles for her.

“Where’s Minseok and Anna?” She asked after a while.

“There’s a small waterfall not that far,” Kyungsoo explained without taking his eyes off the stove, “they like to hike.”

It was so annoying. Baekhyun didn't like to hike, but he was fond of long walks, and it bothered her that that was all she could think about. If Baekhyun were there with them, he would have insisted on walking down to the village to get snacks and drinks. They would've stopped midway to take pictures and sit down for a while to talk and rest, even if the walk wasn't that demanding. 

"Here." His deep voice brought her back to the present.

Kyungsoo was handing her a bowl of steaming noodles and apologizing under her breath Gyuri grabbed it. She placed the bowl in front of her and stared at it for a while, knowing for sure that Baekhyun wouldn't like to eat something of that sort. He didn't like spicy food, and in her mind, she could listen to his complaints as if he was squirming next to her, as noisy as he ever was at the table. Frustrated, Gyuri grabbed her phone again, not believing that he wouldn't have tried to reach her by now. It hurt her that she didn't mean that much to him, and she would end up apologizing first.

“You should tell him,” Kyungsoo said once again, bringing her back to reality only to discover that she was on the verge of tears.

Trying to compose herself, Gyuri dropped the phone again, but it was in vain. She was upset already and having the writer observing her made it worse. She was like an open book to him,  and Gyuri couldn't bear it. It was humiliating, to say the least, and pretending that she didn't care, Gyuri dug into the noodles, burning her tongue in the process.

“You’ve been checking your phone every two minutes.” Kyungsoo added, grabbing her hand to stop getting more burning noodles, “If he knew, he would be sitting here with you.”

The writer might have, as well, poured the entire bowl of hot noodles to her face and it wouldn't hurt her as much as his words did, but the sudden anger running through her veins wouldn't let her be the victim of this conversation. With her pride wounded, Gyuri squirmed her hand out of his hold and dropped the chopsticks on the table.

"And what makes you say that?" She asked with a harsh tone, foreign even to her. "How bold of you to assume he would care about me if I confessed my feelings."

As if she had smacked him in the face, Kyungsoo leaned back, staring at her at a loss for words. His mouth opened to say something, but then he closed it. The silence around them was unbearable, but Kyungsoo beat her to it. He pushed his glasses up his nose before he decided to keep going.

"I think he would." He said with a soft tone that only made her anger flare.

"Stop it!" Gyuri snapped at him, feeling tears falling down her face, "Stop pretending to know how he would feel about me. You don't know him."

"He can't be that bad of a guy if you love him this much." He added.

Gyuri stood up as more tears fell, her heart twisted, and her anger blinded her judgment. She wanted to scream, to hit something and tear her heart out of her chest, but all she could do was run away. It angered her that that was her only option, and letting someone witness that fatal flaw made her entire body tremble in despair. She jumped off the deck, ready to run and hide when Kyungsoo called her name. The softness in his voice irked her, broke her, and bothered her to no end. 

“Do you have any clue of how embarrassing it is?” She snarled at the wild grass beneath her feet, too embarrassed to even look at him.

“I do.”

The reply felt like a bucket of freezing water over her head. The anger she felt out of nowhere was gone just as fast as it took over her, but she couldn't backtrack on her words and actions anymore. Of course, he knew. If anyone in the world could understand what was happening to her, it was him, and Gyuri was too ashamed to think properly. Feeling her throat closing up in misery, she stormed out of the garden, angry at herself for getting emotional over something so insignificant. Her surprise was caught up in a squeak when she slammed the gate open and found Minseok and Anna holding each other in a tight embrace. It wasn't a compromising position other than that they had been making out, and Gyuri had interrupted them. They only chuckled, startled to see her almost running into them. Gyuri quickly lowered her head, letting her hair hide her face. She bowed, trying to avoid questions, and ran into the cabin. She locked herself in her room, but the silence was still too loud for her ears as her mind replayed every one of her actions.

Gyuri hadn't realized.

She recalled every time she checked her phone, glancing at it to check if she got any new messages. It was an insignificant detail, even to her. She thought no one was looking. Most people never minded her presence. She was unnoticeable most of the time but not to Kyungsoo. He just called her out on something so small and so simple she felt more tears falling down her cheeks.

Knowing that Minseok and Anna were back, Gyuri went to the bathroom and stared at the pitiful and tear-streaked face looking back at her in the mirror. She wanted to wash her face, suck it up and keep going, but she kept replaying Kyungsoo's advice to cry it out. She would if she was in her house with the only company of her parents, but couldn't afford to be weak in a place she wasn't familiar with.

Decided, Gyuri washed her face. She rubbed every inch of flesh, frustrated and angry, hopeful that that would erase any trace of tears and swollen eyes. Soon, all the frustration she felt shifted from one subject to another, and after she tried her best not to look like a mess, Gyuri returned to the kitchen.

However, she didn't know how to behave. She was just as quiet as ever, but somehow, she could feel the stares and not-so-subtle glances from the others. From time to time, as she helped Anna to set everything up for dinner, Gyuri reminded herself to ease her expression, but whenever she found the writer looking at her, she could feel the anger spiking instantly. 

Gyuri could only stare at him in disbelief as that would be the very first time since she met him that Kyungsoo ever meddled in her decisions about what to do with Baekhyun. The writer crossed a line she wasn't aware existed, and even less comfortable about him crossing it.

The atmosphere was simply off around them, and Gyuri was aware of how petty she was acting, but the moment they all sat down on the deck, she was just too upset to care. Anna tried her best to lighten up the mood. She came up with the most interesting drinking games, and Gyuri poured herself into each of them, caving in the heat spreading through her skin and burning cheeks.

She felt at ease, light, and free and as if her problems were nothing. That was before both she and Kyungsoo practically hollered their answers at the same time, making Minseok chuckle in amusement. Anna was delighted with the coincidence and ordered both of them to empty their glasses in one go. Kyungsoo was reluctant to do so, but Gyuri did it gladly, wanting to burn the anger with the alcohol and let her inhibitions take over.

Unfortunately for Gyuri, that wasn't the only coincidence. They were so alike. Gyuri stared at Kyungsoo, wondering how they could think in the same numbers, the same answers to almost every question, and react just as slowly in every single game and dare. She was too mad to find those details interesting or riveting. If anything, it only managed to annoy her further as Anna and Minseok made fun of them. 

"I think you two are meant to be together," Minseok mumbled in amusement as they couldn't come up with a loser on a simple match of rock, paper, and scissors.

The comment made Gyuri snap. She felt her cheeks flaring, her entire face burning up in embarrassment, and too mortified to give him the reason, she just slapped Kyungsoo's hand away.

"There, I lost." She said, pouring more soju into her glass and guzzling it down like water.

Angry at herself, embarrassed by the situation, and ignoring something else bubbling inside her, Gyuri poured another drink. She heard a giggle next to her, someone calling her name from somewhere else, and saw a hand trying to take the bottle out of her grasp, but no one would stop her. For the first time, she felt invincible, and no one could stop her.

***

They all witnessed Gyuri drown her sorrows fast and recklessly. Kyungsoo tried more than once to take a drink from her hands. Anna simply admired her, pointing out how adorable she was as Gyuri giggled and swayed from one side to the other off the beat of some old song Minseok was singing.

Kyungsoo had stopped drinking a while ago. He made up his mind when he tried to stop Gyuri and call it a night, but she glared at him and drank another glass out of spite. He let her and limited himself to watch her as she poured one glass after the other. He had to remind himself that it was all part of her wishes. She wanted to get drunk, and so far she was doing great. Gyuri hadn't had anything to eat and she kept mixing drinks that he was sure would eventually hit her with the nastiest hungover. He had to smile at some point. Gyuri was stubborn, and despite describing herself as someone shy and mellow, she always took on every task head-on and without reservation, even this one.

His chain of thought came to a sudden halt when Gyuri swayed dangerously to one side and lost balance, almost falling face-first to the surface of the wooden deck. Kyungsoo was fast enough to reach for her. Holding her head gently in his hands, he prodded her back straight, and Gyuri kept mumbling the song as if nothing happened.

"Gyuri, I think that's enough." He said as Anna giggled.

It wasn't a surprise that Minseok hyung was just as drunk as Gyuri. It was partially his fault. He encouraged her, drinking along, celebrating every glass, and always pouring another one for her. However, as a seasoned drinker, Minseok Hyung was easier to handle. Eventually, he would just stay still, acting cute to anyone around him. He was leaning over his girlfriend, resting his chin on her shoulder and smiling at her. Anna was giggling at whatever he was muttering to her ear. Gyuri started to fall again, and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Kyungsoo knew it was time to take her back into the cabin.

What Kyungsoo never expected was to get so flustered by her closeness. Gyuri noticed his presence and looked up at him with a hint of curiosity he couldn't decipher. She smiled at him, and as if she wasn't mad at him anymore, Gyuri wrapped her arms around his neck. Taken aback, Kyungsoo laughed, struggling to untangle himself from her unexpectedly strong grip, and once free, he draped one of her arms around his neck and lifted her off the deck. Gyuri let out an adorable squeal as he guided her around the garden. Thankfully handling her through the cabin wasn't nearly as bad as Kyungsoo had first imagined.

“I figured you would have gotten drunk with Baekhyun before,” Kyungsoo said softly.

“Baekhyun is a wimp.” Gyuri spat out.

Although Gyuri meant to sound harsh, she seemed to struggle to put that expression on her face and was frustrated at her lack of control over her own body. She swayed so hard that her balance went off and almost dragged Kyungsoo to the floor along with her. Not that it mattered to her because she kept on with her rant about Baekhyun.

“He said he didn’t trust himself if the two of us were drunk.” She added with a scoff, and then a dangerously adorable pout took over her entire face, “Kyungsoo, am I really that boring?”

“I don’t think he meant what you think,” Kyungsoo replied.

“Wanna know a secret?” She said, changing the subject entirely, and Kyungsoo looked at her, only to realize that she was too drunk to understand the implications of her own words. 

“You already told me your biggest secret,” Kyungsoo added as he steered her through the small waiting area and then to her room.

“That was nothing.” Gyuri added, “There’s a bigger one.”

She waved her free hand so dramatically that she hit the closest wall with a dry thud that even Kyungsoo jolted in response. He asked her if she was alright, and when he let her go to check her hand, Gyuri seemed unfazed by the incident.

“I really really want to get laid before I die.” She said.

Gyuri collapsed into the edge of the bed and bounced into the floor with a loud thump. Kyungsoo was by her side on the floor in a flash, and she complained with a glare, followed by an accusatory pout. However, neither of them knew how exactly that happened. To Kyungsoo, she was too drunk to stay up and fell, and to Gyuri, he deliberately dropped her there. 

“Preferably with my secret admirer.” She kept on, curling into a ball on the floor. 

There was a silence in the room that was a bit too uncomfortable for Kyungsoo. It took him too long to decide what to do next when he felt a source of warmth, perfume, and alcohol so close to him it made his head spin.

“I was hoping to have my first time with Baekhyun but that’s never going to happen.” Gyuri said as she got extremely close to his face, “You could take your chance if you want.”

Kyungsoo looked at her, completely stunned. Flabbergasted, he might say, and he didn’t know what to do until he saw her hand moving closer and closer to his face. As if snapped back to reality, he grabbed her wrist as gently as possible and meant to remove the watch.

“No.”

“You will do.” Gyuri insisted, almost whispering, “You’re handsome.”

The writer had his fingers working through the strap of her watch when he forgot for a split second what he was doing. She was giggling. The sound of her so close to him caught his attention. Gyuri stared at him as if she had sobered up, and he froze under her scrutinizing gaze.

“What?” She asked, her face decorated with a bright and curious smile, “Are you surprised I like you?”

“Do you?” He asked instead.

It was her reaction that told Kyungsoo that Gyuri was still too drunk to grasp the meaning of what she was talking about. The playful smile disappeared just as fast as it showed up, and she shrugged in defeat, making him realize that he should take everything that was happening with a grain of salt.

“I’m not telling you.” She said with a pout.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

Anna snapped the door open, making them both jolt in surprise. She came into the bedroom followed by a stumbling Minseok. Thankfully, neither of them seemed to notice that Kyungsoo stepped away from Gyuri and turned around to hide his blushing cheeks from them.

“I’ll take care of her.” He mumbled.

“Really?” Anna chuckled, reaching Gyuri and getting ready to pick her up, “Are you going to undress her and put her pajamas on too?” 

Kyungsoo froze on his spot, feeling not only his cheeks but his entire head burning. Anna noticed his reaction and clicked her tongue at him in disapproval before she pulled Gyuri up and helped her sit on the bed. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Anna mumbled and left Gyuri to nudge Kyungsoo out of the room, “As much as I like you both…"

“Like me?” Minseok whined with a gasp, getting into the way, “We’re getting married!”

“I don’t want you brutes near my new friend,” Anna pressed, pushing them both through the door, “Skedaddle you two. Out!” 

Before Kyungsoo could say anything, Anna closed the door at their backs, leaving them in the resting area in awkward silence. Minseok kept whining under his breath but then looked at the writer with a cocked brow. The sudden attention had Kyungsoo feeling self-conscious, and he made a beeline to the hallway out of the area, but the editor was fast enough to stop him.

“Where do you think you’re going? You have to make some stew.” He said, blinking rapidly as if he was trying to get rid of something in his eyes, “You have to tell me who she is and why you two are suddenly joined by the hip.”

“We already had dinner, hyung.” Kyungsoo said, chuckling in disbelief.

“Yeah, but I’m not sober enough to have that conversation.” He replied, wobbling his way out to the kitchen.

Minseok and Kyungsoo talked about nothing really important as the writer cooked a quick and simple serving of instant noodles. He placed the pot in the middle of the kitchen island and let his hyung dig in as he screwed the cap off a soju bottle for himself. As soon as Minseok was halfway through the noodles and he stopped swaying back and forth on his stool, it was when Kyungsoo proceeded to tell him the full story of how he found Gyuri and of the odd urge he felt to do something for someone that was suffering what he suffered years ago.

“When I look at her, I remember how it felt,” Kyungsoo said when he finished his story.

“Or she’s just your new muse.” Minseok added, pausing when the writer shot him a glare,  “No, it makes total sense now, Kyungsoo. You haven’t touched your laptop in years, and there was no force on earth that could bring a written word out of you. Suddenly, in a matter of days, you gave me the first two chapters of the next book. She’s inspiring you.” 

“That’s not it,” Kyungsoo said, but Minseok chuckled.

“Just be careful not to get too attached.” The editor mused, but the writer was too confused.

He was taken aback not by the words he just heard but by the disinterest in the way Minseok delivered those thoughts. Kyungsoo watched his friend slurp the rest of the noodles into his mouth as if he had nothing to eat for months and the overly nonchalant and pleased noise that came out of him as he nudged the empty pot in front of him.

“Don't look at me like that," Minseok said with a stern look on his face, "Just remember that not everyone survives this shit as you did.”