#and the humour and interactions between characters is so natural

[heytherecentaurs]

I love Izzy because she’s always riding the line between completely keyed into what’s going on and being so fucking unhinged she has no clue what’s happening. Her intensity is a brilliant comedic device.

I love Alex because they will say such simple things that are so earnest and they’ll make me laugh so hard. They feel like such a unique presence in the dome.

I love Ify because he’s so committed to portraying his characters, and in his ambition to roleplay harder than anyone he initiated a clever way for his 2 characters to interact. From his devotion he finds humour. Plus he’s got his guns out.

I love Ally because they laugh the hardest at everyone else’s jokes and stay so engaged in what’s going on. They went from never playing D&D before in season one to being in the dome second only to Brennan and it’s bred a natural and charismatic familiarity.

I love Jacob because he brings such genuine great vibes to the table. He has been one of my favourite dropout performers and brings his enthusiasm, talents and conviviality to the dome.

I love Rekha because she brings her unique comedic voice to the table. She has great chemistry with everyone and makes characters you won’t expect who say things you could never predict.

I love Brennan because he made this thing for his wife and friends and brings everyone along. He is patient, creative, deeply prepared and spontaneous, and takes Ls with the comedic spirit of a punching bag and loves it. He tells stories from a place of love and it’s apparent.

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch 3

“For good service, and cute waitresses”

pairing: premilitary!jk x secret fuckbuddy! oc

contents: mild language, no smut (yet), fluff, humour, celeb au, very mild angst, slowburn </3

wc: 6k

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: if anyone wants to join pls comment!!

a/n: this fic is going so much better than id thought it would! i love it and cant wait to progress. Nari’s might also come across as mean, but know its in a best friend way and she truly does love oc. ENJOY MY LOVES <3 p.s, all interactions are much appreciated, pls dont be afraid to let me know what you think:)

masterlist | < previous | next >

You find yourself back at Nari’s apartment. These days, it’s the only place you feel like going to. Your own place feeling like a lost cause- clothes piling up, draped over your desk chair you could’ve sworn you cleaned up last week, dishes in the sink that you could’ve sworn you’d washed yesterday. Work has been exhausting, and when you’re not caught up in the bustle of the diner, you’re busy running errands and keeping up with side hobbies, using them as an excuse to avoid everything else.

At least at Nari’s, things feel a little less overwhelming, and it’s easier to forget everything else.

And Nari doesn’t mind, she’d never mind.

She’s in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of wine, her free hand lazily scrolling through her phone. Her TV hums in the background, playing some trashy reality show neither of you are actually watching. You’re curled up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, fingers absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the throw pillow in your lap.

You’ve been quiet for way too long, and though you are a quiet person by nature. It’s never been truly quiet with you around Nari.

And Nari notices. Of course she does.

It’s not past a second before she side eyes you over her glass, pausing mid scroll. “Alright” She says, pushing off the counter. “What’s going on with you?”

You blink up at her. “Huh?”

“You look like you just got caught committing a crime,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Spit it out.”

You shake your head quickly. “It’s nothing.”

Nari stares at you for a second longer, then sighs, putting her phone down on the counter. She’s walking over, the heels of her socks dragging slightly against the floor, and plops down next to you, pressing her shoulder against yours.

You hesitate, fingers tightening around the pillow. The words are there, right at the tip of your tongue, but saying them out loud makes it feel too real.

Nari doesn’t give you the chance to stall any longer. She sets her phone down and walks over, plopping down on the couch next to you. “You’ve been sitting there looking like you’re about to have a breakdown for the past twenty minutes,” she says. “Either you tell me what’s going on, or I start guessing, and you know I have no filter.”

You exhale sharply. “It’s not that serious.”

Nari just stares. “Yeah, okay. So why do you look like you’re about to throw up?”

You press your lips together, debating whether you should even bring it up. It’s stupid. It really is. But the anxiety has been eating away at you since he did it, and if anyone’s going to tell you if you’re being ridiculous, it’s Nari.

You reach into the pocket of your hoodie and pull out a small, crumpled piece of paper. For a second, you just hold it between your fingers, staring at it like it as if that would make it disappear. Then, finally, you place it on the coffee table between you and Nari.

She frowns. “What’s that?”

You swallow. “Jungkook left me his number.”

There’s a beat of silence. Nari blinks. Then she blinks again, leaning forward to get a better look at the paper, like she needs to confirm that you’re not messing with her.

“Wait—Jungkook?”

You nod, heart hammering against your ribs.

“As in the Jungkook?” You nod again, looking at her as if to say: yeah Nari, who else?

Nari lets out a sharp breath, eyes darting between you and the paper. “And you’re telling me this now?” She takes the paper from your hand “Saturday?! Seriously? It’s been 2 days and you’re only telling me now?” She whines, smacking your arm lightly.

You shrug, biting your lip, not trusting yourself to say anything.

Nari stares at you like you’ve lost your mind. “And what exactly is the problem here? Did you text him? Has he shown up to the diner again?”

You bite your lip. “What if it’s a joke?”

Her expression drops into something unimpressed. “What?”

“What if I actually message him, and he laughs in my face? What if this is just some silly game?” You cross your arms, shifting uncomfortably. “Imagine I actually text him, and it turns out he just left it to mess with me.”

Nari looks at you like you just suggested jumping into oncoming traffic for fun. “Are you stupid?”

You blink. “Yes! What- No. Ugh! I dont know?”

“Why the hell would he give you a fake number? Celebrities don’t just do that.” She picks up the paper, waving it in your face. “And Jungkook? He doesn’t seem like the type to waste his time playing games.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” she cuts you off. “I saw the way he was looking at you. That man is not out here giving his number to random women for fun.” She shakes her head. “And even if it was a joke—which it isn’t—you’d at least know. Right now, you’re just sitting here torturing yourself over something you haven’t even done yet.”

You press your lips together, stomach flipping. “I don’t know, Nari.”

“I do know.” She leans back against the couch, arms crossed. “And at the very least, now you can get a heads-up before he randomly shows up again and you dont have to shit your pants every time he does.”

You let out a laugh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, but you saw what happened last time…”

Nari rolls her eyes. “Listen I get that- Crazy fans and shit? Not it, but you could be missing out on something big here.” She shrugs, taking a slow sip of her wine, like this isn’t making your entire brain short-circuit. “Worst case scenario? He doesn’t respond. Best case scenario? Well.” She smirks. “I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.”

You stare at the number again, nerves buzzing under your skin.

Fuck it.

Your fingers twitch as you pick up your phone, opening your messages. You hesitate, heart in your throat.

The phone sits between you and Nari on the couch, untouched. You haven’t stopped staring at it since she made you unlock it, since she made you pull up Jungkook’s number and prove to her that it’s really there. His name isn’t saved, obviously—you’re not that delusional—but it’s there. Sitting at the top of your recents, right where you left it.

And you hate that it’s there.

Nari sighs. “Alright, I literally can’t take another second of this. Either you text him, or I’m throwing your phone out the fucking window.”

Your body jerks up immediately. “I can’t text him.”

She looks at you like you’ve personally offended her. “Yes, you can.”

“No, I actually can’t.” You grab a pillow and shove your face into it. “You do it.”

A scoff. “What? No.”

“Nari, please.” Your voice is muffled, desperate. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

“You literally will,” she deadpans. “Probably within the next hour.”

“I’m serious.” You peek at her from over the pillow. “Please, just send the first message.”

“You’re being ridiculous. He wouldn’t have given you his number if he didn’t want you to use it.”

“Or maybe he gave it to me as a joke.”

She groans, standing up and dragging a hand down her face. “Oh my fucking God. What is wrong with you?”

“If I message him, and he laughs at me, I’m never leaving this apartment again.”

She rolls her eyes, dropping back onto the couch beside you. “Yeah, because Jungkook has nothing better to do than sit around and make fun of random girls.”

“Exactly.”

Nari grabs your arm, shaking you. “You’re so stupid.”

You let out a strangled sound as she shakes harder, knocking you against the couch cushions. “Nari, stop—”

“No, because you’re actually so stupid. I saw the way he was looking at you.”

You groan extra loud.

Nari shoves you again, this time hard enough that you almost fall sideways. “You are so dramatic.”

“Okay, then you message him,” you whine, turning back to her with wide, pleading eyes. “Please. Just send one text, and then I’ll take over.”

She groans, leaning her head back against the couch. “Fine. But I’m not doing ‘Hi, this is YN.’ That’s lame.”

You nod immediately. “Yeah, no, that’s boring.”

She thinks for a second, then smirks. “What if we go with, ‘Hey, soldier, miss me?’”

You push her. “Stop.”

Nari just laughs. “Or, ooh!—‘I heard boys like you love discipline, so I waited a respectable amount of time before texting. 😉’”

“Im deleting his number.”

“You love me.”

“I don’t.”

She hums, tapping your phone screen. “Okay, what about this: ‘I promise I’m not a stalker, but I did just spend the past two days debating if this was actually your number.’”

You hesitate. “…Okay- Yeah, that’s actually kinda good.”

“Duh.” She types it out and, before you can stop her, presses send.

Your stomach drops. “Nari, what the fuck.”

She throws the phone onto your lap with a smug grin. “Too late.”

You gape at the screen, heart pounding as the message sits there. And keeps sitting there.

Jungkook doesn’t reply immediately.

Which—of course he doesn’t. He’s busy. He’s literally Jungkook. He’s probably off training or singing or whatever idols do in their free time.

Still.

You groan, throwing your head back. “This was a mistake.”

Beside you, Nari pats your head like a disapproving mother. “No, I made a mistake. I should’ve sent, ‘Hey, kookie~, miss me?’”

You nudge her away. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You kind of do. But now, you’re stuck waiting for a reply.

And it’s already driving you insane.

—

Hours pass.

You and Nari don’t do much of anything—just exist in the same space, like always. The TV plays some random drama you’ve both seen a hundred times before, voices droning on in the background while you scroll through your phone and Nari flips through a magazine she doesn’t actually care about. The comfort of it is familiar, easy. This is why you come here. Why her apartment is the only place you really want to be these days.

But none of it stops your eyes from flicking back to your phone every two minutes.

Still nothing.

Nari notices. Of course, she does.

“Y/n.” She doesn’t even look up from her magazine. “Get it the fuck together.”

You huff. “I am together.”

“No, you’re not.” She turns a page, unimpressed. “You look like you’re waiting for an organ transplant.”

You make a face, shifting to sit on your hands so you physically can’t reach for your phone again. “I just—I don’t get why he hasn’t replied yet.”

“Because he’s Jungkook?” Nari deadpans. “You know, worldwide superstar, busy man, famous guy? Maybe, just maybe, he has other shit to do?”

You grumble, kicking at her leg. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

You hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “What if he’s ignoring me?”

Nari groans. “Oh my God. I literally cannot do this with you right now.” She tosses the magazine onto the coffee table and sits up, jabbing a finger at you. “This is what we’re not gonna do, okay? We’re not gonna sit here and spiral. We’re not gonna create insane scenarios in our head. And we’re definitely not gonna act like Jungkook is some high school jock plotting to humiliate you in front of the whole cafeteria.”

You glare at her. “That was a very specific example.”

She shrugs. “I read a lot of Wattpad in my youth.”

“As you should.”

“Anyway.” She leans back, stretching her arms over her head. “Since you clearly can’t function like a normal person right now, I’m declaring a ban on all Jungkook-related thoughts for the next few hours.”

“You can’t ban thoughts.”

“I can in this household.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t argue. Mostly because she’s right—this whole thing is driving you insane, and if you don’t stop obsessing over it, you’re going to lose your mind before Jungkook even gets a chance to reply.

So, you let it go. Or at least, you try to.

The night continues as it always does. You and Nari switch to watching trashy reality TV, taking turns talking shit about people you don’t know. You fight over the last slice of pizza, which Nari wins, but only because she threatens to lock you out of the apartment. You don’t think she’d actually do it, but you’re not willing to take the risk.

Time slips by unnoticed, and before you know it, the sky outside the window has darkened completely.

“You sleeping over?” Nari asks, stretching her legs across the couch.

You blink at her like she’s just asked something stupid. “Of course, I am. What do you think?”

She smirks. “Good. I was gonna make you stay even if you said no.”

You laugh, throwing a pillow at her. She dodges easily, flipping you off in the process.

And then—your phone buzzes.

Your whole body goes still.

Nari notices immediately, eyes snapping to your phone, and then to you.

“Oh my god,” she says slowly. “Tell me that’s who I think it is.”

You don’t answer. Just stare at the screen like it might disappear if you blink.

Another buzz.

Nari lunges forward, but you snatch the phone before she can grab it. Your hands are shaking.

She bounces impatiently beside you. “Well? Open it!”

Swallowing thickly, you finally unlock the screen.

[ iMessage:]

Unknown Number: Took you long enough.

Unknown Number: Was starting to think you weren’t interested.

You just stare. Your stomach does a weird little flip, your heart picking up speed.

Nari, practically vibrating beside you, grabs your arm. “WHAT DOES IT SAY!?”

You lift your head slowly, meeting her gaze with wide, horrified eyes.

“He’s flirting with me-“

Nari screams.

And just like that, everything is chaos again.

Your brain short-circuits.

Your hands tighten around your phone, fingers pressing into the edges like you’re afraid it might jump out of your grasp. Your breathing is uneven, and you’re pretty sure your heart is going to give out right here, on Nari’s couch, before you even get the chance to respond.

Nari grabs your wrist, shaking you violently. “WHAT THE FUCK?! REPLY.”

“I CAN’T.” You clutch the phone to your chest like it’s some kind of secret government file, eyes blown wide in panic. “OH MY GOD, WHAT DO I EVEN SAY?”

Nari looks at you like you’ve just spoken in an ancient language. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, WHAT DO YOU SAY? YOU SAY SOMETHING BACK. LITERALLY ANYTHING.”

“No, no, no, I—” You shake your head frantically, scrambling up onto your knees as if somehow getting higher up will help you think better. “If I reply too fast, it’s gonna look desperate.”

Nari throws her hands up. “Desperate for what? A conversation? Bitch, this is not high school! We are adults. We do not play fucking mind games over text like we’re waiting for our crush to message us back like we’re 15!”

You press your palms over your face, groaning into them. “Oh my God, what if this is a joke? What if he’s messing with me? What if—”

“WHAT IF HE’S NOT?” Nari yells, shoving at your shoulder. “What if he actually fucking likes you, you absolute dumbass?”

You glare at her, shoving her back. “DON’T CALL ME A DUMBASS, I’M HAVING A CRISIS.”

“IT’S A STUPID CRISIS.”

The two of you wrestle on the couch for a second, limbs flying, before she overpowers you and shoves you back into the cushions. You huff, staring up at the ceiling, trying to steady your heartbeat.

A few deep breaths. Then another. Okay. You’re fine. You’re cool.

You roll your head to the side, looking at Nari. “What do I say?”

She stares at you, completely done. “You say, ‘Hey, this is me responding to your text message.’”

You groan, throwing an arm over your face. “Be serious.”

“I am being serious.” She snatches your phone right out of your grip, dodging your grabby hands as she holds it above her head. “Look. You’re overthinking. You don’t have to send an essay, just flirt back.”

You peek at her through your arm. “How?”

“Oh my God.” She sighs dramatically, shifting so she’s sitting on her knees beside you. “Okay, let’s workshop this. He said, ‘Took you long enough. Was starting to think you weren’t interested.’” She pauses. “Ooh, that’s kinda sexy.”

“SHUT UP.”

“I’m just saying.”

You groan again, kicking your legs in frustration. “I hate this. Why am I like this? I should just block him.”

Nari slaps your thigh so hard you yelp.

“YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING.”

You whimper. “Fine. Just—help me.”

She grins, shuffling closer. “Okay. So, we’re going for playful, yeah? Something that keeps the same energy.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Like, oh? You were waiting for me? That’s kinda cute.”

Your entire body recoils. “EW, no, that sounds so corny.”

She cackles. “Okay, okay. What about, ‘Oh, were you hoping I’d text first? That’s adorable.’”

You blink. “Ugh why are you so good at this?”

“I know.” She flips her hair dramatically. “I am the queen of texting.”

You shake your head, snatching your phone back. “Fine. I’ll say something like that.”

“Good.” She pats your knee. “Now send it.”

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. Your pulse pounds in your ears. You type the message. Delete it. Type it again. Delete it again. At this point, you’re just spamming letters on your keyboard.

“Nari,” you whisper.

She groans. “What now?”

“…Can you send it for me?”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

You flinch at the volume of her voice. “But—”

“No buts.” She glares at you, unimpressed. “Send it. Now.”

You hesitate for one more agonizing second. And then, taking a deep breath, you hit send.

You both freeze, staring at the screen like it might explode.

The message sits there. Marked as delivered. Silent.

You toss your phone across the couch and bury your face in a pillow.

Nari gasps. “Bitch, what are you doing?”

“I CAN’T LOOK.”

“Oh my God.” She lunges for the phone. “What if he replies? What if he—”

Buzz.

Your whole body seizes up.

Nari screams.

You scream.

Neither of you move.

Buzz.

Another message.

You shoot up so fast your vision goes blurry, scrambling for your phone. Nari practically jumps onto your back, gripping your shoulders as she shrieks into your ear.

You unlock the screen, heart pounding, pulse hammering against your ribs. And then—

[ iMessage:]

Unknown number: Adorable? That’s a new one. You trying to flirt with me?

Your soul leaves your body.

Nari shrieks. “OH MY FUCKING GOD.”

You smack her. She smacks you back. You both devolve into incoherent screaming, kicking your legs and shaking each other like wild animals.

And somewhere in the chaos, it finally sinks in.

Jungkook is flirting back.

This is real.

What the fuck do you do now?

You’re still gripping your phone like it’s a lifeline, staring at Jungkook’s message like the words might rearrange themselves into something less terrifying.

Your brain is malfunctioning. Your hands are clammy. Your heart rate is somewhere near cardiac arrest levels.

“Nari,” you whisper, voice shaky. “What do I say?”

Nari, who has just spent the last five minutes screaming and shaking you like a maraca, suddenly changes tactics. She plops back against the couch, crossing her arms. “Nothing.”

You blink. “What?”

“Nothing,” she repeats, grabbing the remote and flipping through Netflix. “Let him wait.”

Your whole body jolts. “WAIT?”

“Yes.” She leans back smugly. “We’re watching a show. You’ll text him in the morning.”

You gape at her, horrified. “No. No, no, no, please—”

“Yes.”

“Nari, please!” You grab her arm, shaking her dramatically. “I will literally die. My soul will leave my body.”

“Okay, good,” she says, deadpan. “Then I’ll text Jungkook myself and tell him his little admirer died of thirst.”

You let out a strangled noise, throwing yourself back against the couch. “I hate you.”

“You love me.” She pats your knee like you’re a distressed child. “And you asked for my advice, so now you’re gonna take it. No texting until morning. Let him wonder.”

You stare at her, betrayed. “This is evil.”

She shrugs, putting on some random drama. “Welcome to the game, bitch.”

You sulk for a few more minutes, checking your phone every five seconds like a lovesick fool before Nari finally yanks it out of your hands and tosses it across the room.

“BED,” she orders, standing up. “Now.”

You groan but eventually drag yourself to your feet, trudging to her bedroom like a prisoner on death row. When you finally get under the covers, you let out a heavy sigh.

“This is torture.”

Nari snickers, turning off the light. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You highly doubt that.

—

The next morning, you wake up feeling… slightly less insane. Only slightly.

Nari is still dead to the world when you roll out of bed, stretching with a groan. You grab your phone off the nightstand and check your notifications.

No new messages from Jungkook.

You stare at the screen for a moment, heart sinking slightly. Not that you expected him to double-text you or anything, but still.

Shaking off the disappointment, you tiptoe out of Nari’s apartment and head home. It’s a busy day—you’ve got errands to run, places to be, things to do. You get caught up in it all for a while, hopping from one task to the next.

And then—

Buzz.

[ iMessage ]

Unknown number: So, am I getting a response, or did you decide flirting with me was a one-time thing?

[deception-united]

Let's talk about grumpy x sunshine tropes.

Arguably one of the most well-loved tropes in media, for good reason. The dynamic where one character is perpetually cynical, stoic, or irritable while the other is warm, cheerful, and outgoing often makes for good banter and conflict, and it's satisfying to watch the grumpy character's reluctance develop into the relationship as they warm up to the other. But it's important to do it well. Here are some tips.

The Appeal

What makes this trope work?

Contrast = Chemistry

The clashing personalities creates tension as well as opportunities for banter, which adds to the chemistry between the characters; and their differences and areas of disagreement force them both to grow and adapt for the sake of the other.

Vulnerability

As their relationship develops, you'll often see the sunshine character helping the grumpy character to confront their emotional walls, whether by pushing them or when they come down on their own over time as they grow closer to each other. This also leads to the grumpy character softening around the sunshine character.

Humour

This whole dynamic naturally comes with its own comedic situations—whether that be witty retorts, misunderstandings, or the sunshine character's relentless attempts to brighten the grumpy character up.

Dos and Don'ts

Do:

Give them depth. Have reasons for their respective personalities, motivations, goals, who they avoid, how they act around new people—the grumpy character's personality, for example, aside from just being a part of their character, might also have elements that stem from past trauma or a fear of vulnerability, amongst other things. Avoid making them one-dimensional, like just making the grumpy character a jerk and the sunshine character obnoxiously naïve.

Show mutual growth. As their relationship develops, both characters should influence the other in various ways. An obvious example of this would be the sunshine character learning boundaries or resilience, and the grumpy character being able to open up more.

Balance their dynamic. Make the relationship feel like partnership rather than a one-sided emotional rescue mission. Both characters should be contributing to and benefiting from the relationship.

Build it up gradually. A slow burn typically works best with this trope. Let their relationship develop over time, give them reasons to connect and bond and grow. This will make the eventual payoff more satisfying for the reader.

Have balance. Make each character complement the other without dominating the narrative. They should feel like a team rather than one character "fixing" the other.

Create situations that force interaction. Whether they’re co-workers, roommates, or trapped together somewhere, proximity is key to fostering their dynamic, essentially forcing it when their personalities naturally go against each other.

Don't:

Make the sunshine character a doormat. Don't let them exist solely for the purpose of catering to the grumpy character's needs and pushing them for growth—give them agency, independence, and their own goals and motivations.

Have one-sided growth. It’s not just about the sunshine character "fixing" the grumpy character; both should influence and challenge each other.

Overuse miscommunication. Misunderstandings happen in relationships, and likely more when the characters' personalities contrast so drastically, but constant misunderstandings and miscommunication can frustrate readers. Try to use it more sparingly and don't drag out the resolution for conflict that is petty or largely unimportant to the overall plot.

Make the dynamic toxic. Unless this is your intention, of course, but if you're trying to develop a healthy and lovable romance, keep in mind that grumpy doesn't mean cruel. The grumpy character might have certain reservations or personality quirks, but being stoic or unapproachable doesn't inherently equate to being emotionally abusive.

Oversimplify the sunshine character. Cheerful and outgoing shouldn't automatically mean being naïve or oblivious. The sunshine character should be complex in their own right, and capable of experiencing a range of emotions, both positive and negative.

Make the sunshine character too overbearing. A sunshine character who ignores boundaries or forces positivity onto the grump can come across as irritating and socially inept rather than endearing.

Overdone?

Some things are overdone and everyone's tired of them; others are overdone because no one gets tired of them. So:

Overdone, unfortunately:

Unexplained 180: The grumpy character changes overnight with no believable arc.

"You’re the only one who gets me": While sweet in moderation, it can feel contrived if the sunshine character magically understands the grump without effort.

Damsel in distress: Turning the sunshine character into a helpless figure who needs constant saving undermines their strength.

Overdone, but please continue:

Forced proximity: Setups like this are cliché but effective when done well, and fun to read.

Grumpy protects sunshine: The grumpy character reluctantly stepping up to shield the sunshine character is not only adorable but leads to deeper emotional connections.

Soft spot: The grumpy character's’s hidden affection for the sunshine character always lands well if subtle.

Happy writing and thank you all for 3000! ❤

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[literaryvein-reblogs]

Monkey see, Monkey do in writing? I don't know how I think this in the story but I wanted it like a natural occurrence between Sibling. How does this could be achieved in the story

Writing Notes: Monkey see, Monkey do

Monkey see, Monkey do - imitation (for a good reason, for a stupid reason, just by instinct...). It is assumed to be an old saying.

Siblings seem to demonstrate an understanding of others’ minds and emotions during real-life interactions long before they show this understanding on more formal assessments.

In particular, this understanding is revealed during episodes of imitation, teasing, shared humour, pretend play, conflict resolution, teaching, prosocial behaviour, and through their use of connected communications and emotional and mental language during conversations.

First-born siblings engage in leadership, teaching, caregiving, and helping roles, whereas second-born siblings are more likely to imitate, follow, take on the role of learner, and elicit care and help.

Younger siblings often imitate the older child’s language and actions during play, which is one way to establish shared meanings.

Siblings demonstrate the ability to teach one another during semi-structured tasks and also during ongoing interactions while playing together at home, while taking into account their sibling’s knowledge and understanding.

Because infants show the ability to imitate at as early as 6 months of age (Collie & Hayne, 2003), older siblings are some of the first teachers in infants’ lives.

The infants aren’t just learning unrelated skills via mimicry, though; they’re also perfecting the art of imitation itself.

One study showed that children with brothers and sisters are better at imitating than those without.

In the study, children with siblings had the tendency to observe and copy the behaviors of others without instruction more than only children did (Barr & Hayne, 2003). 

Infants who are strong imitators are known to be stronger social communicators, especially in terms of language understanding (Hanika & Boyer, 2019). Having infants develop this skill early on sets them up for success in social situations in the future.

Mimicry is vital in many different social interactions, and people have an intuitive sense of how much they like someone which is linked, at least somewhat, to imitation levels (Lakin & Chartrand, 2003).

Mimicry with strangers and acquaintances is strongly studied in this affiliative context, but it takes on a strong role in the development of young children with siblings.

Imitation for those children is a powerful learning mechanism, that teaches not only new motor skills but also social skills, like mimicry itself.

"Baby See, Baby Do" Trope

Named from the expression "monkey see, monkey do".

Babies like to copy. It's how a lot of them learn. Sometimes, it even leads to them saying their first word.

If a baby copies another person, it usually means (or is taken to mean) that they like that person, so the other characters will find it adorable, even if the one being copied doesn't like it.

Sometimes, a character will make a remark about how the baby will grow up to be like the one being copied.

At times, it can overlap with Licked by the Dog trope if the person being copied is or has a reputation for being tough or evil and the surrounding characters believe that babies copying someone means they like them.

If the baby copies an undesirable behavior (swearing is a common one and it might lead to Little Brother Is Watching trope if the baby copies an undesirable behavior from their older sibling), quite often, the older people will try to get them to copy a better behavior, and some adults might try to get their babies to copy them if they want to make them talk.

Examples of "Baby See, Baby Do" Trope.

A Series of Unfortunate Events: At the end of "The Reptile Room", Violet and Klaus are talking about how "brilliant" the murder victim was, to which their baby sister Sunny says, "Brilliant!".

In Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, the Duchess is singing a song about beating her baby son when he sneezes and the chorus consists of only "Wow wow wow!", which the baby joins in on.

Incredibles 2: When Dash says that he wants to fight bad guys and mimes fighting, Jack-Jack also mimes fighting and shouts out some gibberish that ends in "bad guy".

Monsters, Inc.: When Mike says a line of dialogue that includes his first and last names (Mike Wazowski), Boo repeats it. She keeps repeating it until it becomes sort of her catchphrase (along with "Boo!" (how she got her nickname) and "Kitty" (what she calls Sully). She also copies Sully's "Shh" when he tells her to stop laughing.

In The Adventures of Pinocchio (1996), earlier Pinocchio displays this kind of behavior, imitating words and actions of those around him. He's technically "newborn" and is experiencing the world for the first time.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Choose which of these notes are most appropriate to incorporate in your own story. Also found some examples that could be used as inspiration, alter as needed. Hope this helps with your writing! More references:

Children's Dialogue ⚜ Examples of Children's Dialogue

Children's Speech & Language

Emotional Development of Adolescents

[gravity-between-us]

Gravity Between Us

Chapter 4: Dark Matter

Summary: Caleb and I have known each other for as long as I can remember. We were once childhood friends, our bond as natural as the stars in the sky. But now, everything has changed. What used to feel like a safe, familiar orbit between us now pulses with unspoken desire.

Our friendship is no longer enough to keep the tension at bay, and the distance between us feels unbearable. Secrets, lies, and unhealed wounds stand in our way. I don’t know if we can survive this new gravity pulling us together... but I can’t keep pretending I don’t want to try.

Pairing: Female! MC x Caleb

Spoilers: Spoilers for Caleb's Myth's as well as memories. Read at your own risk for these. Lore spoilers.

WARNINGS:

Unlikely to be completely canon. The other love interests will not be likely to appear in this fic.

MC is named. MC is socially awkward. MC can be depressed at times.

Very? Slow Burn.

Very explicit smut (Chapter 12 onward): PiV/oral (male and female receiving)/anal sex. Fingering. First time. Pet names (angel, babe, baby, pip-squeak). Kinks: Praise, breeding, creampie, light dom/sub. Rough. Some consensual degradation talk (MC is into it). Probably many, many more that I am forgetting to name. If you see one that should be listed that isn't, feel free to let me know. (MC is a repressed deviant, and so is Caleb.)

Awkward blend of darker moments, angst, fluff, and humour.

Drinking. Questionable life decisions. MC spirals.

Protective Caleb. Both MC and Caleb are a little obsessive and overly protective of each other, which could be considered an unhealthy relationship.

We will revisit memory scenes, but they will be different from the memories in-game.

As proofread as I can get it, but not beta read, so probably some mistakes.

Limited plot - most focus is just on their relationship and interactions.

More warnings could be applied, but as a general rule of thumb, please read at your own risk and do not continue if you find the content triggering.

I stare at the picture for a solid five seconds, my sluggish brain struggling to process the sheer magnitude of my own shame. The imprint on the glass is undeniable—a perfect, smudgy crime scene of my face, pressed up like a damn cartoon character. I groan, rubbing my forehead as if that will somehow erase both the memory and the evidence. The notification on my phone blares, and the text message that pops up makes me want to sink to my knees and rewind time.

Caleb: “You’re the worst spy I have ever seen.”

Is it possible to simply perish from embarrassment? Maybe if I stand really still, like a deer in headlights, my problems will lose interest and leave.

Caleb: “Like. Actually. I am CONCERNED. You just stood there?? Like that?? What was the plan?”

I type out a response, delete it, then type again. I consider throwing my phone in the sink.

Inara: “I was just… admiring the structural integrity of the glass.”

Caleb: “Oh, obviously. And what was the verdict? Solid craftsmanship?”

I resist the urge to let out a strangled noise. I am never drinking again.

Inara: “Shhhhhhh. Stop talking.”

Caleb: “So that’s a no, then?”

I hate him. I hate him so much. Fuck his precious forearms and his delectable elbows! 

Caleb: “Did you even look at the rest of the house yet?”

My stomach sinks. Oh. Oh, no. I see it. A full-blown pyramid of shoes stands gloriously by the door. My masterpiece. My drunken magnum opus.

Caleb: “Tell me you at least remember the pyramid.”

Fuck…. I do. A vague, wobbly memory of me standing, arms raised in triumph, shouting something about ‘engineering genius’ flashes through my mind.

This is the worst morning of my life.

Caleb strides in, a takeout bag in one hand and a coffee in the other, grinning like he’s already three steps ahead of me in whatever conversation we’re about to have. His eyes shift between deep amethyst and the soft glow of rose quartz, as if light itself bends to them. Dusk trapped beneath glass. 

I could get lost in them—maybe I do, just for a second—until he presses the coffee and bag into my hands, snapping me back to reality.

“How are ya feelin’, pip-squeak?” he asks, amusement braided into every syllable.

I groan, peeling back the wrapper on the breakfast he brought me. “Better than I deserve.”

He chuckles, leaning against the counter. “So, whose ridiculously attractive forearms inspired you to drink yourself into a home renovation meltdown?”

I nearly choke on my food. I do not remember telling him anything about forearms last night, and I have no clue if I admitted that it was his stupid, unfairly sculpted forearms that did it. Heat flares up my neck, blooming across my chest and ears, and I can physically feel my face turning beet red.

My alcohol-soaked brain hasn’t fully recovered, and in a kneejerk attempt at self-preservation, I bumble, “Mine.”

Caleb’s eyebrows shoot so high they might escape his face entirely. “Your own ridiculously attractive forearms somehow made you want to drink and assault the furniture?”

I don’t trust myself to speak again, so I just nod.

He stares at me for a long moment, then lets out a slow, impressed whistle. “Damn. That’s some next-level self-infatuation.”

I scowl at him, but it lacks heat. Mostly because my brain still feels like it’s wrapped in cotton and my stomach is busy trying to digest both food and humiliation. “If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you.”

Caleb grins with too much smug satisfaction, before nudging my foot under the table. "Well, since you’ve clearly spent too much time in the house, how about coming to the Fleet party tonight?"

I hesitate. Those events are always stiff, filled with too many officers who talk in clipped sentences and judge you based on the polish of your boots. Caleb in those settings is different, like someone flipped a switch, and suddenly he's another perfect soldier in a sea of disciplined postures and unreadable expressions.

He must see the reluctance display on my face because he leans in, tapping his fingers against the side of my cup. "C'mon, pip-squeak. It won't be that bad,” he places a hand over his heart dramatically. "I will not, under any circumstances, discuss fleet protocols or combat formations."

"Fine," I grumble, pointing a warning finger at him. "But if I see even one salute from you, I’m out.”

The party hums with low conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional bark of laughter that doesn’t quite reach the eyes of the people making it. I nurse my drink, more for something to do with my hands than any real interest in it, while Caleb shakes yet another person’s hand. His expression is pleasant but distant, a well-practiced ease in the way he carries himself. He makes eye contact, nods at the right moments, but I can tell he isn’t fully listening.

I’m not, either.

Instead, I watch. The way the officers hold themselves, the way some linger too long when speaking to him, like they’re searching for something between the lines of his answers. The way others barely hide their sneers when they turn away. There’s a current running through the room, subtle but there, like the tension before a storm.

Caleb finally breaks away from the latest well-wisher and turns to me, eyes softening. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say automatically, but I’m still thinking about the things I’ve overheard—the anomalies, the equipment failures, the way people keep bringing them up just for Caleb to immediately shut them down, like he doesn’t even want the words in the air.

Like he’s trying to pretend they don’t exist.

Before I can press, someone calls his name, and he glances over my shoulder, his posture going rigid for the briefest moment. When he meets my eyes again, there’s an apology in them.

“Sorry, pip-squeak. Just a sec.”

He steps away, swallowed back into the sea of uniforms. For the first time tonight, I wonder if I should stop trailing behind him like a shadow—and start looking for the things he doesn’t want me to see.

I swirl the drink in my hand, watching the way the light catches against the glass. My reflection warps in the amber liquid, a distortion of myself—fitting, considering how out of place I feel.

I drift.

Not too far, not enough to be obvious, but enough to slip between groups unnoticed, catching snippets of hushed conversations.

“…not adding up. They’re saying it’s just fluctuations, but—”

“The logs don’t match. If command thinks we’re just going to ignore—”

“I heard the last patrol didn’t even make it back intact. They’re covering—”

Caleb’s name comes up more than once. So does deepspace. So do anomalies. And each time, the voices drop lower, wary, glancing around as if the walls themselves are listening.

I make my way toward the outer edges of the room, where the air feels less stifling, and lean against one of the pillars, pretending I’m just another disinterested plus-one waiting for the night to end.

But I keep listening.

What I hear makes my skin prickle. Something is happening out there, beyond the safety of planets and stations, in the vast emptiness of deepspace. Whatever it is, Caleb is right in the middle of it. It reminds me how many secrets lay dead and rotting in the valley that has grown between us. It also reminds me that every time he goes to work, he might never come home…

Before I can fully process that, I catch movement in my periphery.

A woman approaches—sharp uniform, sharp eyes. She doesn’t look at me right away, but I know she’s heading toward me. There’s a deliberateness to her stride, a certainty. When she finally turns her gaze on me, it’s assessing.

“You’re the one Caleb won’t shut up about,” she says. Not a question.

I arch a brow. “Depends who’s asking.”

The corner of her mouth twitches, but her expression stays neutral. “Commander Aurelia Voss.” She extends a hand, and I take it, her grip firm. She studies me for a beat, as if weighing something, before speaking again.

“You might want to ask your boy what’s really going on out there.”

Then she releases my hand and disappears into the crowd before I can ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean.

I stand there, my pulse a slow, steady thrum. The crowd shifts, a ripple of movement, and then Caleb is there, slipping through the sea of uniforms with that effortless grace of his. His eyes find me quickly, like he knew exactly where I’d be. The moment he sees me, his expression eases until I open my mouth.

"Who's Voss?" I ask, keeping my voice level.

His jaw tightens, just a fraction, but it's enough to tell me there's something there.

"Why?" He deflects, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve without meeting my eyes. "She talk to you?"

"Someone mentioned it. And you’ve been quick to change the subject every time. So?"

He shrugs. ”It’s nothing important. Just Fleet matters."

I narrow my eyes, unconvinced. "Fleet matters, huh?"

His voice sharpens, a bite to it now. “Forget it. It doesn’t concern you.”

I bristle, ready to fire back, but before I can, he extends his hand. "Come dance with me."

I eye him, suspicion clawing at my chest. "That’s your distraction?"

He smiles, and damn it, it works. "Humour me."

With a quiet sigh, I let him guide me onto the dance floor. He takes my hand in his, and places the other against my waist. The music is slow, lilting, pulling at something deep inside me. I step into it—or at least try to. Within seconds, my heel catches the edge of his boot.

He chuckles. "You’re not very good at this, are you?"

"Wow, what a revelation," I retort, forcing a sarcastic smirk. "It’s almost like I never took ballroom dancing at the academy."

"Shocking," he teases, effortlessly steering me back on track, his movements controlled and precise, like he's piloting a ship. "I, however, am exceptional at it."

"Humble, too," I mutter.

"Always." His grin widens before he leans in, his breath warm against my ear. "Stand on my feet."

I scoff, amused. "I’ll ruin your perfectly polished boots."

"You’re right." His grin shifts to something more wicked. Before I can protest further, the air around us seems to shift. A faint hum brushes against the space between us, lifting me ever so slightly, my toes no longer touching the floor. He keeps one hand on my waist, the other still holding mine, guiding me effortlessly across the floor as if I weigh nothing at all.

I should call him out for this ridiculous, unfair advantage, but I don’t. Instead, I allow myself to be swept up in the movement, the distance between us narrowing. His hold tightens, pulling me closer—closer than is appropriate, than any social rules would permit, but neither of us seems to care.

His amethyst-rose gaze locks with mine, intense and burning, something unspoken crackling between us, drawing us in. My pulse stutters, a traitor to my calm exterior. I don’t know who leans in first, but the space between us is closing rapidly, our breath mingling, the tension drawn tight like a wire about to snap—

Then, applause erupts, shattering the fragile bubble around us.

Caleb blinks, as if coming back to himself. Someone calls his name.

He exhales, brushing his thumb absently over the back of my hand before he releases me. "I’ll be right back."

I watch him slip away, his colonel’s mask sliding into place, but my mind is already elsewhere. Voss's words echo in my head. 

You might want to ask your boy what’s really going on out there.

The decision comes to me in an instant. I turn, slipping into the shadows of the crowd. This base is familiar from my time here, and I still have the skeleton key Caleb gave me.

I move cautiously through the halls, alert to every detail. Cameras track my every move, but I know their blind spots well. The guards follow predictable routes, easy to anticipate. When I hear the clack of boots approaching, I duck into an alcove, melting into the shadows. A few pass by without so much as a glance.

The heels of my shoes, however, are a liability. I slip them off, leaving them behind a pillar. Barefoot, I move more quietly, more swiftly, weaving through the corridors towards Caleb's office.

The tension coils in my gut as I approach the door. One last glance over my shoulder. No one.

I press the key to the panel, and the lock clicks open.

Slipping inside, I close the door behind me, exhaling the breath I didn't realize I was holding. The air is thick with his scent—clean, sharp, faintly metallic, like the cockpit of a ship. I move quickly, my eyes scanning the room, searching for something, anything. If answers are hidden here, I’m going to find them.

Caleb's office is pristine, a sterile shrine of black, white, and silver. The screens along the walls are dark, the room still. At first, it seems as if I’ve found nothing. Then I hear it. A faint hum. Barely perceptible, but there, beneath the silence.

I run my fingers along the panelled wall, feeling for something. Eventually, I find it—a thin line, almost imperceptible. A hidden panel. But there's no keypad, no handle, no lock.

I pause, thinking like him. Caleb doesn’t leave things unguarded. He doesn’t trust locks. He trusts himself. I exhale, resolve settling in my chest. Reaching out, I press my palm flat to the surface, right where his hand would naturally land if he leaned against the wall.

A faint click.

The panel slides open.

I step inside, and the lights blink on automatically. The room is small, filled with technology I don’t recognize—screens displaying data that makes no sense, sleek robotic parts, wires humming with energy. A mechanical arm hangs from the ceiling, its design intricate, precise, and unnervingly advanced.

I take a step closer, running my fingers over the edge of a console. None of this explains the whispers I overheard at the party. None of it accounts for the anomalies, the close calls, the name Voss.

And yet, something tells me I’ve stumbled upon something I wasn’t meant to see. The hum behind the panel still lingers in my ears when I hear the door to Caleb’s office slide open. My stomach drops. I turn just in time to see him standing there, silhouetted by the white light spilling in from the hall. His eyes lock onto mine, and the easy warmth that usually resides in them is gone.

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice is low and controlled, but I can hear the barely restrained fury beneath it.

I straighten, meeting his gaze head-on. “What the hell is all this?”

He exhales sharply, stepping into the room, the door hissing shut behind him. “You shouldn’t be here, pip-squeak.”

“Yeah, no shit. That’s why it’s hidden behind a fucking secret panel. Now, are you going to tell me what this is, or do I get to keep playing detective?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he moves past me, as though trying to block my view of the room, as though I haven’t already seen too much. I push forward, refusing to let this slide like all the other times. “I’m serious, Caleb. Enough with the dodging, enough with the cute little diversions. I want the truth. Right now.”

“It’s classified.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, fuck off with that. I’m not one of your Fleet officers, Caleb. I’m not some clueless civilian, either. You don’t get to ‘classified’ your way out of this conversation.”

His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking. “You don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“Then explain it to me.”

His hands curl into fists at his sides. “It’s not that simple.”

“Bullshit.”

Something cracks in him then, his control slipping. “You always do this,” he snaps, stepping closer. “You push and push until you’re standing at the edge of something you don’t understand, and you don’t care. You never fucking care.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I just keep letting you lie to me? Keep pretending everything’s fine while you disappear deeper into whatever the hell this is?”

His lips press into a thin line. “Drop it, Inara.”

“No.”

This expression wavers, the anger giving way to something darker. He reaches for me, and I instinctively pull back, but he’s too fast. His hand clamps around my wrist.

“Let go of me.”

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he says, his voice eerily calm now. The rage is still there, but it’s muted, controlled—like a blade honed to a fine edge.

I try to yank my arm free, but his grip tightens—too tight. “Caleb—you're hurting me.”

He doesn’t react. It’s like I’m speaking to a stranger, someone who doesn’t recognize me. His expression is vacant, devoid of the boy I knew, the man I thought I still understood. I’ve seen him angry before, but this is different. This is cold. This is something else entirely.

“You should’ve just left it alone,” he hisses, and his tone sends a chill through me. There’s a hint of something threatening in it, something that twists my stomach into knots.

I struggle again, my bare feet scraping against the smooth floor as I try to pull away, but his grip doesn’t loosen. “Caleb, let go.”

He lifts his wrist, flicking two fingers toward his earpiece. “Liam. Get my plane ready. I’m leaving.”

Panic surges in my chest. “You’re not going anywhere until you explain what the fuck is going on!”

He doesn’t even glance at me. Instead, he lifts his free hand, fingers twitching—and suddenly, I can’t move. The floor seems to drop beneath me, but I don’t fall. My body locks up, frozen in place by an invisible, suffocating force. I can barely breathe. I can’t fight it. He holds me there like I’m nothing—like I’m an inconvenience, an afterthought.

“I warned you, pip-squeak,” he murmurs, his voice devoid of warmth.

My heart hammers in my chest, a mix of fear and realization—fear, not of him, but of what this means. Fear that I’ve just confirmed the worst of my suspicions.

The Caleb I knew is gone, and I have no idea who the hell is standing in front of me now.

He doesn’t give me a choice. His grip tightens around my wrist, dragging me toward the plane, his stride steady and ground eating. I dig my heels into the floor, my free hand clawing at his hold, but it’s useless.

“Caleb, stop! Let me go!” My voice echoes through the empty corridor, but he doesn’t even flinch.

The plane’s ramp lowers with a mechanical whirr, the interior dimly lit, sterile. As soon as we’re inside, he hauls me into a seat, securing the harness around me. My pulse throbs in my wrist, where the bruises are already blooming beneath his fingers. I yank my arm free the moment he lets go, cradling it against my chest. The skin is marked with angry shades of blue and purple—proof of his strength, of how far he’s willing to go.

Tears sting my eyes, but they’re not from sadness. No, I’m furious. Furious that the Fleet has turned him into this. Furious that I don’t know how to fix him. Furious that this is what we’ve become.

He settles into the pilot’s seat, running a hand through his hair, exhaling like he’s come down from whatever dark place he’d been. When he speaks, his voice is softer—almost normal.

“Let’s go home.”

I stare at him, my fingers curling into fists in my lap, and shake my head. “No. Drop me off at the station. I’m going back to Linkon.”

His hands tighten on the controls. “Inara, don’t be ridiculous—”

“I’m not staying, Caleb. Take me to the station. Now.”

For the first time since he dragged me out of that hidden room, he looks at me—really looks at me. The bruises on my wrist. The set of my jaw. The way I refuse to back down. He opens his mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to reason with me, but I see it in his face: he knows he won’t win this one.

His grip on the controls flexes before he exhales sharply through his nose. “Fine.”

The word lands between us, heavy and final. The engines hum to life, the plane shifting as it prepares for takeoff. Neither of us speaks. Neither of us looks at each other.

But something in the air between us has already changed, and I don’t know if we’ll ever get it back.

Chapter Masterlist Friends! Caleb's Myth!?! YES PLEASE! My wallet cries in Sylus + Caleb main already. May everyone who pulls for Caleb's Myth get it in the first 20 🙏🏻

[canmom]

finished Carmilla. what a wonderfully silly novel that was. I need to download an ebook to count how many times Le Fanu uses the word 'languid'.

that said, reading with modern eyes, I think it's a bit of a victim of many subsequent novels elaborating on vampires, and some of the conventions of Victorian literature - in particular, the rule that the narrator has to survive in order to recount the tale, and the evil must be overthrown and tied up neatly. worse, Laura ends up an entirely passive character, with the final resolution seeing Carmilla killed by a couple of side characters, one of whom hasn't even been mentioned up to that point.

the novel is at its best when Carmilla and Laura are interacting. I would have liked to see Laura return Carmilla's affections a bit more, rather than just being like 'well that was weird' every time Carmilla lezzes it up or says something hilariously morbid. but there is definitely humour in her being very literally the straight girl.

I've seen subsequent adaptations of Carmilla, notably my friend Maki @mxmy's Dr Carmilla character, who's - at least in what is released so far - a space vampire with a habit of picking up waifs and strays and turning them into immortal pirates, something which tends to end badly for everyone. the other is (if anyone still remembers) the 2014 Carmilla web series on youtube, which is set in a college dormitory in the States, and presents Carmilla in a more positive light. in the end, I was a little surprised to find both these works take little other than the premise of 'lesbian vampire called Carmilla' and her relationship with a girl called Laura or Lorelei. the web series pulls in a few other names from the novel but completely reframes the situation, adding a new male vampire who is exploiting Carmilla to act as a villain (it was 2010s pop-feminism, you know how it goes). Dr Carmilla currently only vaguely hints at the relationship between Carmilla and Lorelei in the released songs, but involves a new apocalyptic scenario (I think that's about all I can say) - but it does at least keep Carmilla as an itinerant traveller, and keeps the tragic air of the story.

it is not entirely made clear in the novel if the waking Carmilla is aware of her vampiric excursions. it's easy to suppose while reading it that she's just a good liar who's taking them all for a ride, and I think that's still the best supported interpretation, but I think there's equally a reading where she's unaware of the whole vampire thing, and genuinely likes this daft straight girl Laura and before her, the general's daughter. if she is aware, she's really bad at covering her tracks, particularly with her disappearing act. the whole anagram schtick is explicitly named as a rule she has to operate under, but there's plenty she does to tip off her victims and their families. perhaps the point is that she's just charismatic enough to get away with it.

the character of carmilla's mother is a thread that never quite seems to get resolved. the natural assumption is that she's another vampire, dropping her daughter off in a new feeding ground - but since the ending acts like Carmilla was the only surviving vampire, I wonder if perhaps she should be taken as an illusion conjured by Carmilla, perhaps the reason she has to be sent away on a mysterious carriage ride as soon as possible in each instance?

the vampire is traditionally taken to be in part a symbol of the feudal past of cruel aristos persisting and corrupting the rational present, something that makes plenty of sense for Dracula, but in Carmilla's case, nearly every character is a castle-dwelling aristocrat of some sort, and the peasants and servants are treated as mostly beneath notice by the narrative and characters (one scene that stands out has Carmilla, feeling insulted by a trinket seller, idly talk about how in her day she'd have called for his bloody execution - a comment that seems to bother Laura very little). the main characters are even related to Carmilla's family. perhaps just a case of early iterations of an idea, not yet fully formed.

one thing I do like about Carmilla is the amount of physical affection - Carmilla is constantly touching and kissing Laura, and while Le Fanu probably didn't mean this the way we would today, it provides for strong images of sickly Carmilla draping herself all over her new object of affections, like she's acquired a new favourite doll. I can see why this is widely understood as a lesbian novel even though it's very Victorian; it's kinda dark yuri, like Carmilla is coming into the lives of these lonely girls and kind of lovebombing them with expressions of affection and devotion, and whomst among us... it would take many more decades of horny writers to really get into the eroticism of vampiric blood drinking itself though, which here largely takes place in a deniable way, while Laura is sleeping.

despite the reputation for Victorian novels to be long and rambling, this was a rather brisk book. I honestly wish it was a bit longer - a very obvious addition would be a chance for Laura to talk to Carmilla once she's finally figured out the vampire thing, instead of rushing to the ending. it seemed Le Fanu was more interested in explaining vampires (fucked up amirite), which makes sense for the time, but nowadays we all know what the deal is with vampires and instead the core relationship is the interesting part. ah well! it's worth the time to read.

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

PT. 9

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: no set date.

WC: 5462

Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU. Smut.

Recap:

Megumi’s grip on your waist tightens slightly, eliciting yet another moan from you, making him smirk against your lips. “Missed that fucking voice of yours,” he murmurs in a deeper tone, sending a wave of heat coursing through your body once again. His words, dripping with desire, only serve to fuel the flames of passion between you, leaving you both consumed by the intoxicating heat of the moment.

| [18+] CONTENT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! |

Megumi's hand remains on your waist, as the other is against the wall beside you, offering a sense of grounding as you're pressed against the wall. He breaks the kiss, his gaze capturing your breathless anticipation, and a smirk plays on his lips as he observes your flushed cheeks.

“What are you looking at…” you murmur, feeling a flush of embarrassment as his gaze lingers on you, prompting you to avert your gaze.

"You look so beautiful," he responds, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, which only adds to your embarrassment.

You accidentally glanced down and remembered he wasn't wearing a shirt, which made your face turn even more red as you found yourself staring at his abs. Quickly, you looked away, but he had already noticed. You blurted out, "Put a shirt on," unable to conceal your flustered state.

He teases, "Don't like what you see?"

“What- no! I mean yes…Wait- I mean-” Your response fumbles in a mix of confusion, leaving you feeling even more awkward, a reaction that seems to amuse him.

"Look at me," he softly commands, gently holding your chin and guiding your gaze to meet his.

"Do I make you nervous, angel?" he asks with a touch of cockiness, though his effect on you is undeniable, rendering you momentarily speechless. You part your lips, about to say something, but nothing comes out. His thumb grazes over your bottom lip, intensifying your nervousness.

How cute he thinks to himself, unable to contain a small chuckle.

He leans in, tilting your chin up higher. His lips graze over yours, not fully connecting, but his grin widens at the sight of your increased breathing all because of him. Then, finally, he meets your lips. The kiss starts gently but quickly escalates, fueled by desire and an unspoken connection between you. His touch grows bolder, hands trailing down your body as he effortlessly lifts you, the wall also supporting you. Subconsciously, you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer as the intensity of the kiss deepens, lost in the moment with him.

"Tell me what you want, angel," he prompts, his voice a soft murmur against your lips.

"You... I want you, Gumi," you confess, the nickname slipping out naturally, and the impact it has on him is palpable, a low groan escaping his lips.

Unable to resist any longer, he carries you to his bed, gently laying you down with one hand supporting your head and the other resting firmly on your ass. The passion between you only grows stronger as you continue to explore each other's desires, lost in the heat of the moment.

He leans down towards your neck, and you instinctively tilt your head to the side, granting him better access. Your hands find their way to his undercut, your fingers threading through his locks. As his lips meet your neck, kissing it tenderly, he searches for that sweet spot you adore. With the third kiss, you can't help but let out a soft moan, signaling to him that he's found it. Encouraged, he begins to suck gently on your skin, but then increases the pressure, teasing you with a mix of pain and pleasure, causing your moans to grow louder in response.

And what you were wearing drove him wild — a cute white tennis skirt paired with a black tank top — but it was the sound of your voice when you moaned that truly sent him over the edge. Without realizing it, his hand found its way to rest on your thigh, and he noticed how you subtly opened your legs, silently urging him to continue. He knew exactly what you wanted. As his kisses trailed from your neck down to your collarbone, his hand on your thigh ventured higher and higher. With a gentle graze, his hand brushed over your soaking core, eliciting a gasp from you. He relished in the sound, knowing he was driving you wild. 

"Damn angel... already so wet for me, huh?" he chuckles, his hand tracing over your clothed core.

"Fuckkkk... you drive me insane," he groans softly, his gaze shifting down to your legs.

The way his touch teased your core made you ache with need, your body yearning for more sensation.

"Pl-please..." you whimper out, feeling the desperate desire building within you. 

He chuckles at your response, his smirk igniting a fire within you. "Please what, angel?" he taunts, his voice dripping with anticipation. 

"I need you..." you respond, your voice barely above a whisper, laden with longing. 

"Yeah?" he smirks back at you, his gaze smoldering. 

"Need you so bad... please," you plead, arching your back as you feel his hand gripping the waistband of your skirt, your heart racing with excitement.

He can't resist any longer, the desire for you consuming him completely. The bulge in his pants grows, a physical manifestation of his longing, and it's becoming increasingly difficult for him to hold back. Both of you know you shouldn't be doing this, but the allure of each other is irresistible, a forbidden temptation that feels so wrong yet so undeniably right. However, amidst the rush of passion, your mind races with worry. What if Toge and Itadori return home any minute now and catch you in the act?

"We shouldn't... they'll be back any minute now..." you say to Megumi, your voice tinged with nervousness, yet your body betrays your words, silently pleading for him not to stop.

He continues to lower your skirt, his movements deliberate and unhurried. With gentle precision, he slides it down your ankle, slipping it off your legs and letting it fall to the floor. "Yeah... we shouldn't..." he says, knowing full well that neither of you truly want to stop.

His hand returns to your thighs, applying gentle pressure as he slowly traces his way back up towards the lace of your panties, his eyes never leaving yours. With a deliberate motion, he places his hand over your clothed clit, his fingers starting a slow, circular movement. The sensation rushes through you, igniting every nerve ending as pleasure courses through the fabric, making you moan louder with each delicate touch.

He's utterly captivated by the sight of you in ecstasy—your eyes squinting low, mouth agape over heavy breaths of pleasure, face and chest flushed red, your chest rising and falling with each gasp. Your sheer enjoyment fuels his own, and he revels in every moment of it. Unable to resist any longer, he crashes his lips onto yours for a fleeting moment before swiftly dropping to his knees off the edge of the bed, a determined gleam in his eyes. As you sit up, confusion etched on your face, he takes hold of your legs and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed.

“Megumi what are youUu~AhHHhH" you start to question Megumi's actions, but your words dissolve into a gasp of pleasure as you feel him move your panties aside and his mouth quickly latches onto your swollen clit, sending waves of sensation coursing through your body.

He dives into you eagerly, his mouth sloppy with the way he devours your pussy, his chin and mouth glistening with your arousal. It feels better than you ever imagined, and you can't help but moan as he picks up the pace.

"Gumi, fuck—!" you moan, and he can't help but throb at the nickname you've given him. He adores the way you say it, relishing in the fact that he's the one bringing you such pleasure. With skillful movements, he continues to lap at your clit, knowing you're getting close from the way your breath hitches and your hips begin to grind against his mouth. The sight of you chasing your high only spurs him on, making him even harder.

As you start to moan more desperately, he inserts two fingers into your tight hole, eliciting another wave of pleasure from you. "Fuck, you're so tight, angel," he murmurs, his fingers curling inside you to hit your sweet spot.

“Shittt, right there! Yes!” 

You're on the edge, feeling the familiar sensation building up, when suddenly you hear the front door of the house open. Panic grips you as you realize Itadori and Toge are back, and you try to push Megumi away, thinking he didn't hear.

But he doesn't budge. "Megumi, Itadori and Toge are back," you say, your voice trembling with fear of being caught.

"Don't care," he replies, undeterred, as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, his movements relentless. Your head falls back, overwhelmed by the sensation, as a surge of adrenaline and excitement courses through you. The thought of your other friends being home while you and Megumi share this intimate moment in his bedroom only adds to the thrill of the encounter.

As the sensation intensifies, you can only manage to gasp out, "Fuck, Gumi... what if they hear?"

"Then you'll just have to be a little quieter, angel," he replies with a smirk, his fingers working faster against your sweet spot as he continues to pleasure you. His other hand moves up to your mouth.

"Open," he demands, and just the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, making you even wetter than before. You comply, parting your lips as he inserts his thumb into your mouth, applying gentle pressure on your tongue to keep you quiet. In response, you instinctively suck on his thumb, eliciting a groan from him in surprise and arousal. He hadn't expected your eager response, imagining all the other things you could do with your mouth.

The vibration from his groan sends an electric wave through you, causing you to involuntarily clutch around his fingers as you edge closer to your release.

“M’ close," you practically whimper.

"I know, angel," he responds, picking up the pace and sucking on your bud, causing you to instinctively close your mouth around his thumb to muffle your cries of pleasure. But Megumi has other plans, as he gently removes his finger from your mouth and takes your free hand, interlocking your fingers together and guiding your hand to the bed beside you.

"I changed my mind, I want to hear you when you cum all over my face," he instructs, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

And with that, you can't hold back any longer. You succumb to the pleasure, your essence coating his mouth and fingers as you come undone. You moan out his name, and he smirks, loving the sight of your blissed-out expression. You’re absolutely perfect for him.

Megumi withdraws his fingers, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then brings his slick-coated fingers to his mouth, sucking on them with a low murmur. "I knew you tasted so fucking good," he whispers, his voice still sending a thrill down your spine. You can't help but respond with a lazy smile, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion.

But your moment of bliss is shattered when you hear Itadori call out your name from downstairs, causing panic to surge within you. With a sense of urgency, you scramble to put on your skirt, but you struggle with the fabric. Then, a knock on Megumi's door interrupts you.

"Megumi, have you seen y/n?" Itadori's voice carries concern, and you exchange a panicked glance with Megumi, whispering urgently, "Fuck, Megumi, what do I do?"

Megumi maintains his composure, gesturing towards his washroom and whispering back, "Go to the bathroom and close the door, okay? Don't panic, angel," he reassures you with a gentle kiss on your forehead. You take his advice, rushing to the bathroom and closing the door quietly.

Meanwhile, Megumi opens the door halfway to face Itadori. "What do you want?" he asks, his tone cool and collected.

"Have you seen y/n? She said she was gonna wait for us to get back from the pizza place, but I can't find her, and she's not answering her phone," Itadori explains, his concern evident.

"Nope, haven't seen her," Megumi responds coldly.

"She didn't ask you what you wanted to eat?" Itadori questions, puzzled by the situation.

"No, haven't talked to her," 

"Oh, alright, thanks! If you do want anything to eat, we brought some extra, so you can have some if you want," Itadori offers, a smile on his face.

"Okay, thanks," Megumi accepts politely before closing the door, leaving you hidden in the bathroom, relieved yet still anxious about being discovered.

As you hear the door close, you step out of the bathroom slowly, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. Walking towards Megumi, you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him into a sweet kiss while giggling softly against his lips. With a playful tug, you pull him onto the bed, slipping underneath him as he falls on top of you. One of his hands instinctively finds your waist as the other is placed on the bed beside you, his lips meeting yours eagerly as he's caught off guard by your sudden actions.

Your laughter fills the room, and Megumi can't help but smile in response, reveling in the sound of your joy. Your smile, your laughter—every sight of you fills him with a profound sense of affection and admiration. He knows he's lucky to have you, and at this moment, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

You both share a moment of silent admiration, both lost in the other's gaze. Finally, you break the silence, “I didn't even get to return the favor yet.” Your hand trails down his chest until you reach his pants, where you teasingly graze the bulge within, prompting a soft groan to escape his lips as his eyes follow your every movement. With a mischievous smirk, he seizes both of your hands, pinning them down onto the bed.

"As much as I'd love that, beautiful, I think it's better if you make your way back to your friends before they worry more," he explains, his tone gentle yet firm. You pout at his response, protesting, "But it's not fair!"

The truth is, he's yearning for your touch, craving the sensation of your hands on him. But deep down, he knows that if he gives in to that desire, he won't be able to hold back from plunging his hard cock into your tight, warm pussy. It's an overwhelming temptation, one he struggles to resist because you have no idea of the profound effect you have on him. How incredibly hot you sound when his name escapes your lips or when you stifle a moan by biting down on your lower lip. The way you become flushed and wet from just a heated kiss, or how the mere sight of you makes his dick hard. It's not just your physical allure, though—the way you walk with confidence, the casual way you run your hands through your hair while studying, or the nervous habit of biting your lips. Even the simplest actions, like sipping from a straw, send his mind spiraling with desire.

He simply smiles before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "Trust me, making you feel good satisfies me," he reassures you. Rising from the bed, he takes your hand to help you up.

He imagines your small hands wrapping around his length, stroking his hard cock while you kneel before him, your eyes pleading with desperation as you look up at him. He can almost feel the sensation of your mouth around his tip, sucking gently before taking him deeper, your head bobbing back and forth in a rhythm that drives him wild–

"How do I play it off though...? Do we act normal now? Should we act normal?! But then they'll ask what happened, how do we explain to them that this happened... Do we keep acting like we don't like each other?" You cut through his thoughts with your rambling, your confusion palpable as you struggle to figure out how to act in front of your friends now.

"You don't want to make them suspicious now, do you?" Maybe for now, let's just continue acting like we still don't like each other in front of them until we figure this out, okay?" he adds, his cocky grin making an appearance once again as he’s brushing a piece of hair behind your ear and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. 

"Yeah, that's okay with me! Should I go back down now?" you inquire.

He nods, and you open the door to his bedroom slowly, trying not to make too much noise. As you prepare to rejoin your friends, you wonder what to tell them.

“What do I say if they ask where I went.”

"That's where you improvise, angel," he winks at you, and you playfully roll your eyes before making your way downstairs to your friends.

"Y/n! Where the hell were you? We looked everywhere for you, and we even asked Megumi if he'd seen you, but apparently you didn't even ask him about the food?" Itadori questions, his confusion evident as he munches on a slice of pizza.

"Yeah, and your phone was either off or you were just ignoring us," Toge adds, also enjoying a slice.

"Sorry, guys. I went to the bathroom before you two got here, and I left my phone down here," you quickly come up with an excuse.

"But why didn't you answer us when we called out your name?" Itadori presses.

"I'm not gonna lie, I didn't even hear you at all," you giggle softly, trying to deflect the question.

"Oh, well alright! We got the food, you want to eat?" Toge offers.

"Yep! I’m hungryyy," you reply eagerly, taking a seat beside them and grabbing a slice. After a few minutes, you hear someone coming down the stairs but don't look.

"Wait, why didn't you ask Megumi what he wanted? We literally waited there an extra 10 minutes for you to call us," Toge asks, his curiosity piqued.

"Oh, uh..." You scramble to come up with an explanation before they catch onto your hesitation. "You know, we aren't really talking right now... You saw how he ignored me earlier when I said hi to him... so I got scared and just couldn't do it." Of course you lie. While you were nervous about asking him, you're not one to back away. The truth is, you did ask him, and it led to him plunging his fingers deep into your pussy while his tongue worked wonders on your clit until you came hard, coating his face with your essence. Just the memory of it makes you get wet again at the mere thought.

"Speak of the devil, Megumi, do you want some?" Itadori asks, and you steal a glance at Megumi. He meets your gaze with his usual expression, and you quickly look away, feeling flustered. Megumi then responds to Itadori, "Sure."

You find yourself sitting in between Itadori and Toge, Megumi seated on the other side of Itadori. As you all sit in the living room, enjoying the food and the show playing on the TV, your thoughts keep drifting back to the earlier encounter with Megumi. It's evident that he's finding it just as difficult to focus on the screen, as you catch him stealing glances at you a few times, his gaze lingering longer than necessary. The intensity of his looks leaves you feeling uneasy, especially with your two friends seated right beside you. You can't shake the nervousness that creeps in, knowing they could glance over at any moment and catch the silent exchange between you and Megumi.

But fuck it’s hard…

It's hard to tear my gaze away when every time I look at him, I'm flooded with happiness and maybe a little wetness in my panties... I mean, how could I not when he's sitting there looking so damn hot in his white tee shirt and black shorts? If Itadori and Toge weren't here right now, I'd probably already be sitting on his lap, kissing his soft lips, my hand trailing down his chest towards the waistband of his pants... Slowly biting his bottom lip as I slip my hand under his waistband and then–

"Y/n!" Itadori's voice cuts through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. You realize he had called your name twice before, but you were so lost in your fantasies that you didn't even hear him at all. The sudden attention from Megumi and Toge makes your cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

"Huh?" you respond, turning to face Itadori.

"I said, do you want to sleep over tonight since it's Friday and all your friends are gonna be here?" he repeats.

Confused, you turn to Toge for clarification. "Oh, I forgot to mention it to her. Yeah, Yuta, Maki, and I are sleeping here tonight because we're going out to the club. You want to join?"

"Oh... yeah, sure. I have nothing better to do anyway," you reply, turning back to Itadori. Your gaze briefly flickers to Megumi for a split second before returning to Itadori.

Itadori turns to look at Megumi, a hopeful expression on his face. "You want to come too?" he asks, silently urging him to agree.

But Megumi shakes his head. "Nah, it's all good. I'll stay home," he replies, his tone final.

Disappointment washes over you as you had hoped he would agree to come along. Itadori tries to convince him, insisting that it'll be fun, but Megumi remains steadfast in his decision.

"It's not my type of thing, sorry," he explains as he rises from the couch and makes his way back upstairs. "I'll be in my room if you need me," he adds before disappearing into his room, leaving you feeling a bit disheartened by his refusal to join.

As you watch Megumi leave, a pang of disappointment washes over you. Why didn't he want to stay down here with all of you? Or go to the club? But then again, if he did, wouldn't it seem suspicious? After all, he's not one for parties or clubs, preferring solitude or minimal disturbance most of the time. 

Shrugging off the feeling, you decide to maintain the facade of indifference. "What time are we going to the club anyway?" you ask, diverting the conversation.

"11pm," they both reply simultaneously, their voices in perfect unison.

“I don't have anything to wear–”

“Yutas still home, you want me to ask him to bring you something?” Toge asks.

“Yes please! Tell him to bring my black dress, it's all the way on to the left side in my closet.”

“Gotcha, he said he'll be here in 30 so we can leave in an hour once you're ready.” Toge says to you.

“Okay fine with me”

You three continued watching the show until Yuta arrived, prompting you to hurry upstairs to change your clothes. Once you were all ready, you left for the club and met up with Nobara and Maki, who were already waiting for you. As you entered, you found them sitting at a booth, surrounded by shot glasses and other drinks.

"Where's Megumi?" Maki shouted over the loud music.

"He didn't want to come," Itadori shouted back.

"Typical Megumi," Nobara rolled her eyes. "Come sit and take shots with us," she urged.

You all settled into the booth, quickly downing shots of whiskey as the bartender kept bringing more. It was as if you were drinking water, the shots disappearing almost as soon as they were poured. 

As the alcohol flooded your system, thoughts of Megumi began to consume your mind with each shot. Memories of the last time you two were here together, him escorting you back to your place, clouded your mind. But what truly weighed on you was the fact that he wasn't here now. Not here with you, not with all your friends and his, enjoying the pulsating music, the colorful beaming lights, and the lively atmosphere of the club. People danced on the floor, indulged in shots, and revealed in the moment.

Yet, despite the fun atmosphere, you couldn't shake the feeling of his absence. Your friends noticed the change in your demeanor, the sadness and distraction etched on your face as you dwelled on his absence a little too much.

"Not drunk enough yet, huh?" Maki nudged you playfully, and you chuckled in response as she passed you a few more shots.

Downing three shots in quick succession, you felt the effects of the alcohol kicking in, numbing your thoughts, including those of Megumi. In fact, you were getting drunk to the point where thinking wasn't really on the agenda anymore.

As your friends got up to hit the dance floor, you joined in, enjoying the music and the company. Dancing with Maki and Nobara was a blast until they got lost in each other's lips, leaving you with Toge, Itadori, and Yuta. Until Yuta and Toge left to get more shots, leaving you alone with Itadori.

Itadori leaned in close to ask how you were feeling. "I feel good! You?" you replied, giggling a bit.

"Good as well," he answered before his gaze flickered to a spot on your neck as he moved your hair aside. "Is that a hic–" he started to question.

Panic surged through you as you realized what he was referring to—the hickey that Megumi had left on your neck. Thinking quickly, you blurted out, "I burned myself when I was curling my hair this morning."

Thankfully, you had actually curled your hair, a stroke of luck that saved you from further scrutiny. Itadori, oblivious as ever, didn't press further, and you breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for his lack of curiosity in this particular moment.

You both laugh and continue to dance, the night passing by in a blur of music and movement. It feels like hours have gone by, with no sign of anyone wanting to call it a night. The others keep shuttling between the bar and the dance floor, their energy seemingly boundless.

However, you decide to pace yourself, opting not to drink anymore for the rest of the night. You're wary of the possibility of embarrassing yourself or accidentally revealing something about you and Megumi if questioned. You know that if you continue drinking, you might lose control over your words and actions, and that's a risk you're not willing to take.

As the night wears on, the crowded club starts to feel suffocating. The pulsing music and throngs of people dancing only add to your discomfort, so you decide to take a break and head to the bathroom. After splashing some water on your face, you step outside, hoping for a moment of respite.

However, in your haste, you accidentally bump into someone in front of you. "Ow, fuck, sorry! I didn't see you," you apologize, looking up to meet their gaze, only to be met with familiar dark blue eyes and a voice that sends shivers through you. 

"It's alright, angel," he replies, that smirk you know so well playing on his lips. 

"Megumi?! What are you doing here?" you ask, confusion evident in your voice, but he simply smirks more and pulls you back into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

"Megs... What are you doing?" you inquire, your confusion evident in your tone as you try to make sense of his sudden behavior.

“Do you have any idea how damn hard it is to keep you out of my mind?” He growls, his voice low and intense as he closes the distance between you, causing you to instinctively take a step back, startled by his sudden actions.

“What's going on?” 

"Fuck Y/n…You have no idea what you do to me," he admits, his voice rough with need, his eyes dark with longing as he leans in closer, pinning you against the wall again as his breath hot against your skin.

“Megumi…” 

"No. Don't call me that..." His voice drips with desire as he speaks in a low, commanding tone. 

"What?" you respond, puzzled by his sudden shift in demeanor. 

"You know exactly what. Say it," he demands.

You pause, uncertain of what he's asking for. 

"Say it," he repeats, his tone growing more forceful as he moves one hand to your waist, exerting pressure, while the other grabs both of your wrists and pins them above your head. Caught off guard by his sudden aggression, you feel a rush of arousal flooding through you.

"Gumi..." you mutter out, feeling yourself get more wet at the possessive tone in his voice.

"That's my fucking girl," he declares, his words sending a thrill through you. Before you can react, he leans in hastily, capturing your lips with a hunger that leaves you breathless. The realization that he's claiming you as his own sends a wave of weakness through you, weakening your knees as you succumb to the intensity of his desire.

Before you realize it, his hand that was on your waist moves away, and he brings it to your mouth. "Open, baby," he urges, his voice urgent, and you comply without hesitation. As you open your mouth, he inserts his ring and middle finger. "Suck it," he commands again, his tone aggressive, but you obey willingly, sucking on them eagerly, coating his fingers with your saliva while meeting his gaze with a mixture of desire and submission.

His demanding demeanor only heightens your arousal, causing you to rub your legs together in an attempt to ease the growing ache between your thighs. As his fingers become coated with your saliva, he withdraws them from your mouth and swiftly moves his hand under your dress. With a sense of urgency, he pushes your panties to the side and plunges his fingers into your tight hole, eliciting a loud moan from you.

Quickly, he crashes his lips onto yours again, muffling your sounds of pleasure as he continues to finger you with fervor, his actions driven by a primal need to satisfy both of your desires.

"F-Fuck, Gumiii," you moan out, breaking the kiss as your head leans into the crook of his neck, your breath hot against his skin.

"You're clutching hard on my fingers, baby," he groans from the sensation. “Fuckkk, I love how wet you get for me, angel.”

Your moans echo through the room, a symphony of pleasure as his fingers expertly stroke your most sensitive spots. The way he curves his fingers hits your g-spot just right, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body. Your breath grows heavier, each exhale a testament to the building tension within you.

"Oh God! Gumi, right there, please don't stop," you plead, feeling the waves of pleasure crashing over you with each movement of his hand. He responds with a guttural groan, his desire evident in the way he continues to drive you towards the edge.

"You want to cum all over my fingers, don't you?" he teases, his voice laced with arousal. All you can manage is a breathless affirmation as he picks up the pace, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of release.

"Come on, baby, tell me how much you want it," he teases, his fingers slowing their pace, drawing out your anticipation. 

"Fuck!" you exclaim, frustration evident in your voice as he toys with you. "Gumi, please don't tease! I need it."

He smirks, his gaze dark and hungry. "Need what, baby?" 

"I need it! I need you, please continue!" you beg, the urgency in your voice palpable.

"Yeah?" he teases, his fingers picking up speed once again. "How bad?"

"So bad!" you cry out, your body tensing around his fingers in anticipation of the release you crave.

"Fuck, you're so close, angel," he growls, his own desire matching yours as he continues to drive you towards ecstasy.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" you moan, your voice filled with urgency as you near the edge of climax. The sensation is so intense that you instinctively bite down on Megumi's shoulder, seeking some anchor amidst the overwhelming pleasure.

"M’ gonna cum!" you announce, your breath ragged with need.

"Just let go for me, baby," he urges, his voice husky with desire.

In response, your head flies back, your eyes rolling back in bliss as the intense orgasm washes over you, leaving you trembling in its wake. Megumi continues to move his fingers inside you, prolonging the sensation until you can't take it anymore. He smirks at your euphoric expression, relishing in the power he holds over you.

But before you can fully come down from your high, someone starts knocking on the bathroom door, jolting you back to reality. Your eyes widen in alarm, realizing the precarious situation you're in.

Okay hear me out... I originally wasn't going to make this series include any smuts but as I continued to write the story I just couldn't stop thinking about it... so here we are...

I will be including more smut scenes in the next following parts when I want to... so do what you will with that information.

But I hope you enjoyed :)

TAGLIST <3

@lavender-hvze @xbarrjallenx @atinymonbebestay @1l-ynn @chilichopsticks @dr-fluff-meow @lost-resonance @maya-maya-56 @ichorstainedskin @luciiferslover @madaqueue @vanitywoo

[elainsgirl]

loved all the asks you interacted with yesterday. So i wanted to send one too. I never post in the acotar fandom, because its so hostile. But I follow Elriel content a lot. Do you have any thoughts about how many in this fandom need banter to see any interaction as romantic? And how they see any interaction that has banter as immediately romantic? The amount of hate I see for quiet people and introverst is so disheartening in this fandom. It makes it hard to exist in this fandom as an introvert when I see people calling Elriel's quite style of communicaiton "ew", "toxic", and "icky" all the time simply because they don't banter and arent loud. There's so much misunderstanding of introverts in real life, especially in the US where extroversion is so valued over introversion. I am very happy Sarah has written a beautiful romance between two characters that are quiet and introverted.

I think maybe i'm just not meant for this kind of space. I filter out content and block users to avoid the worst of it, but it literally hurts my heart whenever I see these "criticisms". Because it isn't just directed at two fictional characters, it is directed at qualities of those characters that a lot of people have. What do you think of this?

Hey anon 🫶

THANK YOU for bringing this up because you are so right & valid. There are so many important aspects and parts to a relationship. Before I start - I will say, its not just gwynriels. Eluciens also change Elains personality to be more extroverted - so that she can be sassy, bantering with Lucien in fact, despite Elain being potrayed as an introvert by Mass and in official acotar quizzes she is referred to as an introvert- Eluciens always say she is an extrovert. And the only reason she is quiet is due to her trauma.

I understand the desire of a “bantery” relationship - and having fun & joking around is definitely important BUT more then that, being able to communicate without words, spending evenings together talking or just spending time together without having the need to fill the silence is more important and meaningful in my very humble opinion.

Elriel have that. Both of them have the same humour - elains’ gifts for Az has made him laugh however to go along with that, they both spent time together chilling in the gardens - and as a side note: I love how it was this simple, domestic scene that sjm used to have Feyre question why elriel weren’t mates. She could have used any other moment yet chose one that displayed the ease that Elain & Azriel naturally had together. They’ve spent a night talking about Elains gardens - do you know how important and lovely it is to have someone show genuine interest in your hobby and allow you to talk whilst they just listen? - I can name so many other scenes but you get the gist.

I think the appeal of elriel is that you have these two damaged souls that are often over-looked and no one bothers to look past their surface until they meet each other. Elain paying attention and noticing Azriels headaches and their cause. Gifting him a gift for it. Azriel taking elain to the gardens and just sitting there in silence with her. They’ve formed such a beautiful connection.

“banter” at the end of the day - isn’t only enough to carry an important relationship. Does it even suit Azriels/Elains characters? Not really. And the reason I believe antis focus so much on banter is because to them - they believe Az/Elain need to come out of their “shells” and only Gwyn/Lucien can do that for them. God forbid, we have quiet characters who keep to themselves and aren’t loud and “outgoing”. You’re so right, they call elriel “boring” and “superficial” all because they’re more quiet and unassuming with their relationship. It’s ridiculous but you know what it comes down too? The enemies to lovers trope. This one trope has increased in popularity and demand - its almost found in every book and is so common, within this trope a microtrope is obviously “banter” - ofc a lot of antis must read enemies to lovers books -> therefore push this trope & microtrope onto elucien/gwynriel despite it not rlly making sense.

I also think anyone that calls elriel toxic or boring don’t fully understand how important it is to have someone like Elain/Az that you can just be & have so much ease with.

Even if the hate is not directly targeted towards introverted people - when you call characters like Elain/Az: boring, lacking depth, not interesting enough, need their “extroverts” to push them out of their shells -> for those that relate to elriel, it can feel like an attack/hate. Introverted people in general are always mislabelled and misunderstood which isn’t fair, starting off as kids when your teachers tell your parents they’re concerned that there’s something wrong as you’re more quieter and keep to yourself compared to your classmates or worse - try pairing you with the “outgoing” “loud” kids in hopes to bring you out of your shell to teenage years where the “popular” kids make fun off you to try and get you to talk - its a rough world out there.

Im sorry you feel like this fandom isn’t a place for you, but know the elriel side is definitely filled with lots of people that can understand how you’re feeling. I feel like - this whole thing of hating on introverted characters and their relationships such as elriel gives off slight immature vibes or not fully appreciating quiet, meaningful relationships over loud, bantery ones. And I feel Sjm is growing as an author -> her writing is maturing, personally after reading her recent books I do think she values a relationship like elriel more then anything elucien/gwynriel can be.

I agree with you & have felt this way myself when I would see antis hating on Elain for being quiet aka not interesting enough to them or when Id read elucien fics/Hcs where they changed Elains character to being more extroverted - as I joined the fandom quite young, I would see these takes & it used to make me think, I myself would have been considered absolutely uncool and dull. But as I’ve grown older, I like the way my introverted self is. And if thats boring or I lack a personality too some people, oh well. I no longer care. They’re going to eat their words when Elains book comes out and we see her shine.

[queen-of-mandalore]

Em’s Star Wars Rewatch Part 49:

Revenge of the Sith

It has been many many years since I last watched this movie and I had forgotten how great it is! I don’t think I quite appreciated it properly when I was younger. This is also the first time I’ve watched it since watching The Clone Wars and it makes everything hit so much harder. I am so much more invested in the characters and the relationships.

This movie is meant to be seen on the big screen. I saw it at the cinema as part of the 20th anniversary rerelease and it was amazing. The battle of Coruscant and the end battle between Obi-Wan and Anakin were visually incredible and deserved a big screen.

The music in all of Star Wars is great but I really felt it shone in this one.

I had forgotten how light hearted and humours the opening is with Anakin and Obi-Wan’s good natured bickering plus R2’s antics. I think they did a good job of establishing their brotherly dynamic.

The look on Dooku’s face when Palpatine orders him executed is not fear but of shock - his master had just betrayed him.

‘Oh, I’m not brave enough for politics.’

I love Obi-Wan and Anakin giving each other credit. Seeing them happy I can’t 😫

We don’t get so much Padme in this film but her scenes with Anakin are sweet and lack the cringeworthy dialogue they had in AofC. I definitely root for their relationship much more after watching the Clone Wars.

‘The Jedi are selfless, they think only of others’ - I think in some ways Anakin is selfless as he cares so much about those he loves, but in the end he isn’t trying to save Padme for her sake but because he can’t live without her. He’s ultimately doing it for him not her.

Anakin throwing a tantrum when he’s not given the rank of master 🙄

Although we then see a lot more maturity from Anakin when he apologies and thanks Obi-Wan for his training. They share such a soft moment with Obi-Wan telling him how proud he is of him. The fact that this is the last time they saw each other before it all went to shit 😭 You can see why Obi-Wan couldn’t believe that Anakin had fallen when he seems happy when he left.

The story of Darth Plagueis the Wise will always be iconic. The music in that scene is so creepy and foreboding.

Even though I obviously know what happens, I was still clinging onto the hope that maybe Anakin would make the right choice. You want him to be good - I think the way Hayden plays him makes you want to like him/believe in him.

The scene when Anakin is waiting in the Council chamber whilst Mace goes to arrest Palpatine is stunning. The way it interchanges between Anakin and Padme, the sunset, the Coruscant skyline, the music, Hayden’s acting. It’s such a simple scene with no dialogue but it’s honestly one of my favourites.

I loved the few interactions between Cody and Obi-Wan we got. Living for the Codywan crumbs.

Palpatine spinning around made me laugh. I wish the fight between him and the council members had been choreographed a bit better and feel a bit more grounded in reality.

‘What have I done?’ His voice breaks my heart. Hayden is a great actor and I don’t understand the hate he got - you can really feel Anakin’s pain and internal conflict.

The order 66 scene is made even sadder now I know more about the Jedis who are killed. Not Master Plo 😭😭😭😭

The shots of Anakin leading the 501st into the Temple is chillingly awesome. Once again the music is great here.

Cody and the 212th did such a half arsed job of killing Obi-Wan lmao.

Yoda straight up decapitating those clones 💀

Bail Organa is honestly the mvp of Star Wars. He really went above and beyond to help Yoda and Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan’s face when he sees Anakin kneeling before Sidious BROKE me. The way he begged Yoda not to send him to fight Anakin 😭😭😭

‘You’re going down a path I can’t follow’ 🥺

The whole confrontation between Obi-Wan and Anakin is iconic and I could recite it almost word for word. Mustafar is such a cool location to have a duel and all the lava in the background makes it look so cool. The fight choreography is obviously incredible but I also think they did a good job of telling the emotional story through the fight.

The fight between Yoda and Sidious is disappointing in comparison I think.

‘You were my brother Anakin! I loved you!’ 😭😭😭😭

It’s actually horrifying what happens to Anakin and the fact that he’s being burned alive and Obi-Wan just walks away. I know Obi-Wan couldn’t bring himself to do it, but honestly I think killing him would have been kinder.

Seeing the Darth Vader mask descend and the sound of the first breaths was ICONIC.

I loved that we got the Leia theme when we see the Organa’s holding Leia and then the Force theme (which was Luke’s theme in the original trilogy) playing when Obi-Wan takes Luke to Tatooine. Also a nice cyclical moment ending on the shot of the twin suns.

I had a great time watching this movie and even if it’s not perfect I think it gets a lot right. It’s visually great, there are great performances and it really tells an emotional story.

[anyacad0]

Hi, I hope you’re well!! Do you have any favorite DH/DF-centric and/or renheng/xingyue fics you’d rec? I’ve consistently really enjoyed your interpretation of Dan Heng as a character, as well as your own writings on ao3, so I was wondering if you have any fic recs with similarly good characterization and storytelling :))

yes yes I have many recs

The Archivist's Familiar- ok so granted you have probably heard of this one before but it's so good I'm putting it here anyway. Great story, incredible worldbuilding. I'm not usually a fan of modern AUs but this one has magic which basically remedies every issue I have with the concept

From Somewhere Beyond The Clouds- another one you have definitely heard of but just in case! despite not being completely canon-compliant, this is the best retelling of the full story of the High Cloud Quintet that I've come across by far. All of them are characterised and explored very well. I think the characterisation for Dan Feng is slightly off- more pathetic than canon- but that makes perfect sense given the nature of the canon divergence.

Delinear Garden- I thought this one was niche but I just looked at the hits while getting the link. and. well. Still I'm putting it here because it made me cry on the first read through. I think this fic does wonders for Baiheng's character in particular.

ok and now on to the ones you are less likely to have already read

Talking To The Moon- no particular notes just bittersweet Yingxing/Dan Feng

finally i heard my name, the absolution called- not-quite-reconciled-but-no-longer-fighting-to-the-death Blade/Dan Heng is so interesting to explore because you can see that they both care and yet they're not quite sure how or whether they even want to. Also this author has a beautiful way with words, like they have the exact perfect adjective for every situation and I'm jealous of them

Talking About Hope- in a similar vein to the above one- very tentative interactions with lots of unexpected hope behind them, and beautiful wordplay. The dialogue isn't in quotation marks at first which can be a bit off-putting but there is a reason for it

new moon- okay so I am not sure how people feel about Dan Feng/Dan Heng. I can't exactly say I ship it, but it's fun to read, fun to write, and a fantastic tool for introspection. A bunch of fics change the relationship between them, making them separate people, but for me that kind of misses the point. This fic, however, explores them both very well

An Unexpected Encounter On The Luofu- Dan Heng caring for Blade when he still hasn't quite learned to be kind, but the simple fact that he's trying means so much

We've Been Here Before- an exploration of how close to home Amphoreus is for Dan Heng. I can't believe it's not been brought up in game yet that he doesn't just already know this story, he's lived it. Thank you fanfic authors

Black are the Waters that Sparkled so Green- Dan Heng learning to let himself be cared for ft. Dad Yang

a cowboy's brother-in-law- Boothill realises that Blade and Dan Heng are both pessimistic idiots and helps them also realise this fact

raft of medusa- I'm not sure why this feels as intimate as it does given the subject matter. But it has Blade and Dan Heng's dynamic perfectly down, the fact that really they do care but neither of them are quite ready or sure how to show it. The humour is also very good

Parallels- no particular notes, it's good and it made me cry so you should read it

Serendipity- I like how the author starts of with Yingxing completely out of his depth and then the second half is Dan Feng completely out of his depth. It really makes them feel like equals in a world that would never consider them as such

know that you will always find a home in me- Astral Express trio my beloveds. Super appreciate the March 7th exploration because I feel her fears are less talked about due to more upbeat/silly personality

Broken Promises- any fic featuring Dan Feng's very justified attachment issues is instantly worth reading

Face the Blackened Sky- very very good Blade characterisation. Lots of it

A Stellar Valentine- this is admittedly mostly Stelle/Firefly but it's my favourite Stellaron Hunters fluff and Dan Heng is there so I can still recommend it

in a dim abyss devoid of light, a new dawn begins- pre-Express Dan Heng trying to figure things out

Bonus:

A Dazzling Sidequest to Taco Bell- very little to do with Dan Heng but this is the most wonderful crackfic I have ever read. just. incredibly silly

what happened to the font size? no clue it's fine I can't be bothered to fix it

[illprobsdeletethislater]

If I’m honest, it genuinely still baffles me that a sizeable portion of the wwdits fandom (active member or not) dislike season 1.

Like??? How 😭

The episodes may be more mundane but it’s still so funny and I honestly think it finds the perfect balance between humour and wholesome moments, and I sometimes think the later seasons struggle with this.

What I mean by that is that storylines such as Jenna learning to be a vamp, Laszlo killing Gregor over and over again for Nadja, and Nandor’s search for citizenship all feel so genuine while still being funny and entertaining to watch.

This is something that kind of bothers me about season 6 and even 5 as well, as the humour is decent but often feels cruel and mostly just involves the characters being nasty to each other. Something about their interactions in the earlier seasons just feels more natural as the tone of the show was quieter.

It’s not that the cruelty didn’t exist in season 1, or even that I think the later seasons are shit, but something about the energy in s1 just feels easier to enjoy and digest for me.

In conclusion if you hate season 1 I hate you 💔 (/j obvs)

[loreleilangenue]

Can I ask for some jury headcannons please???

indeed you may

Alastor

-wears heeled shoes to make himself taller

-helps manage the jury's funds despite that absolutely not being in his job description

-i kinda have two separate sexuality/backstory headcanons for him that i frequently switch between lmao

-the first one is that he is a closet gay from a fairly wealthy family. he also has a wife and a child who he does not speak to or even think about a lot. deadbeat dad with INTENSE internalised homophobia.

-alternatively, he is transmasc + bi and also an actual immortal vampire who founded the jury hundreds of years ago as like. a scam that got out of hand. no ones realised its him yet because he keeps faking his death and then popping back up within the organisation.

-secret enjoyer of trashy vampire romance novels (writes fanfiction) (would kill anyone who found out immediately)

Lorelei

-has back problems that prevented her from actually being a dancer

-was in a lot of competitions/pageants growing up, kinda has a fucked up sense of self worth

-relies on her curse a lot in her manipulation and stuff, cos without it shes kinda. not a great liar??? like she just has a lot of trouble sounding genuine

-VERY dry and sarcastic sense of humour, can also be quite mean-spirited even if unintentionally

-has cut contact with her entire family, literally the only people she actually speaks to on the regular casually are alastor and diana

-she and alastor have private bitching sessions together where they talk shit about everyone else in the jury. they are besties your honor

Diana

-lesbian lesbian lesbian LESBIAN LESBIAN

-has a specific (all-female) group of jury captains she surrounds herself with. its basically just a massive polycule

-while on duty shes terrifying, very cold and detached, off duty shes actually pretty chill

-her reason for joining the jury isnt that she wants to destroy witches and more that she wants to protect non-magic folk and sees the jury as the best way to do this

-i could see her getting a redemption arc of sorts somewhere down the line where she starts seeing the many faults in the jury and changes her opinion

-she can play the guitar and will sometimes do little performances alongside lorelei by like. campfires and stuff for fun

Lance

-you can pry aussie lance from my cold dead hands

-he and alastor fucking hate each other. literally the only time lance can be remotely subtle about his emotions is when hes making passive aggressive jabs at al.

-surprisingly really good hygeine for a nasty little rat man, still ends up smelling like blood sweat leather and piss half the time anyway

-has to be tied up after large battles so he doesn't immediately loot every corpse in sight (he has severe kleptomania)

-calls people gay as an insult while tenderly kissing bandy on the mouth

-has a habit of developing intense one-sided rivalries with literally everyone he interacts with, eira is the only person to have actually reciprocated this which is why they are. like that.

Bandy

-has never been to clown school, doesn't even have a license to clown

-keeps dyeing his hair to a slightly different shade of ginger despite already being a natural ginger and wearing a hat most of the time, this is purely to fuck with people

-keeps trying to sneak into alastor and lorelei's bitching sessions

-the high juror keeps trying to have him fired, but he just keeps coming back

-actively embezzling funds. where are they going? who knows.

-hes meant to be morally grey, and i think thats how he'll stay. like the idea of a bandy redemption is nice its just. it would be more interesting for him to switch sides at a moments notice, and to instead put the work into redeeming a less morally grey character

Dock

-basically lives in a laboratory in the basement of the jury headquarters. said laboratory is filled with all sorts of medical equipment, preserved gore, and even a couple saw traps

-he also has a pit full of giant man eating leeches with a chair placed precariously over it. why? because he fucking can

-despite his status as a quack, hes actually pretty good at fixing any problems or ills his patients have. the issue is that he never says what he's curing. he could be removing your stomach pains, or he could be removing the part of your brain that controls your sense of self! its a gamble with him

-there are no records of where he's from. no one knows where he comes from, how old he is, or even his real name. any answers he gives are either entirely nonsensical or very contradictory

-under his mask he's either very hairy or very bald

-always insists that he's a pacifist and will obey the hippocratic oath. this is false.

there you go! feel free to fight me on any of these lmao but remember these are just my personal headcanons.

[deception-united]

How do you write a character thats meant to have an arc, and also be a character meant to ease the tone of the situation into a much more relaxed tone?

Creating a character with an arc while also serving as a source of lightness and relaxation in the story requires some careful balancing between their comic-relief moments and moments of vulnerability and depth that will make them well-rounded and engaging.

Establish a solid foundation. Ensure your character has a defined personality beyond just being the source of humour. Give them quirks, flaws, and desires that make them relatable and interesting. (See my post on crafting character profiles for more!)

Introduce layers. While your character may provide comic relief, they should also have underlying motivations, fears, and conflicts that drive their actions. This adds depth and complexity to their character so they're not one-dimensional and flat.

Give them a purpose. Determine how your character fits into the larger narrative. What role do they play in the story beyond being funny?

Create an arc. Just like any other character, your comedic relief character should undergo growth and change throughout the story. This could involve overcoming personal obstacles, confronting their fears, or learning important lessons. Their arc can be subtle or overt, depending on the tone of your story and their role in it.

Balance humour and seriousness. Find moments where their humour naturally complements the narrative, but also allow them moments of vulnerability or introspection to add emotional depth to their character.

Show growth through relationships. Explore how your character's interactions with others evolve over time. Do they form deeper connections with other characters? Do they learn to be more empathetic or supportive? This can show their growth throughout the story.

Know when to dial it back. While it's important for your character to provide comic relief, be mindful not to overuse humour at the expense of their development. There should be moments where they are allowed to be serious or vulnerable without resorting to jokes.

Hope this helped!

Previous | Next

[unintentional-edgelord]

Okay! For FTGFTF, I would love to know - which characters are…

Your favorite to write?

the EASIEST to write?

Your least-favorite to write?

The HARDEST to write?

I know that’s a lot so please don’t feel obligated to answer all of them!!

Oh nooo... another ask... what shall I do... Nah I love this kinda thing, thank you my good dude ;P

TL,DR:

Favourite is Ashe (Vent and Pandora a close second and third).

Easiest are the Trouble Twins (mostly Prom, but I like fancy insults so Pandora and Aeolus come in close.

Least Favourite is MASTER ALBEEEEERT (followed by the other Masters and Thetis because I can't unsee him as a brat).

Hardest is Aile unfortunately (with Atlas and Siarnaq close behind).

Okay! Let's rock and roll! More detailed explanations below.

FAVOURITE TO WRITE

Ashe! My sassy girl, I love her SO SO MUCH; she's got such a bold and brash personality with a lot of depth to her that every time I take a pen to the page 9/10 times I'm grinning when I write her.

I see myself in Ashe a bit, what with the way I treat her confidence as a bit of a "fake it till you make it," sort of vibe, and her interactions with literally everyone are DELIGHTFUL. She also gets the best lines! And my love for terribly sugary drinks.

Honourable mentions go to My Favourite Himbo Vent because he's so unabashedly proud to be himself, and Pandora for reasons I'll get into below.

EASIEST TO WRITE

To absolutely nobody's surprise, it's Prometheus, with his sister close behind.

I don't know if it's because this bitch has been one of my muses for YEARS, or how long I'd been fleshing him out before I sat down to write the fic, or even because I used to be quite hot-tempered and relate to him like that as a result, but his dialogue seems to flow quite naturally for me. It also helps that A: his Japanese VA will forever have a special place in my heart and did such a fantastic job in the audio dramas, and B: his English VA has such a distinct delivery with odd emphasis on syllables that it's easy for me to hear his "voice" when I write his lines. If it doesn't sound like something I could hear either VA doing, I rewrite the line.

It's probably because I have a sibling myself that I find Pandora pretty easy to write too, and also because I've spent so long fleshing her out. I feel like I'm able to slip pretty seamlessly now between "Pandora The Witch," where she's being cold and terrifying to everyone to "Pandora The Person," snarky to her brother with a GODAWFUL sense of humour. Sibling banter is FUN!

Also, Pandora is a whole ass young lady with a body count of the murdery kind, and I've been doing my DAMNDEST to ensure she's not a "cute moe" I've seen so many people turn her into. I think my ensuing spite from that stereotype meant I did what I could to flesh her out and in the process learnt to have fun writing her. Her distinct speech patterns make it easy to hear her "voice", too!

Honourable mention to Aeolus because I get to pull out flowery language and I often find myself pulling faces at the screen to mimic his sneer, lol.

LEAST FAVOURITE TO WRITE

Master Albert, hands down.

He's my third most despised villain in all media ever (Griffith from Beserk and the villain of @dumpsterfirepropaganda 's original work have first and second place, respectively) and it makes me not enjoy writing him at all. My dislike for the dude is that high and every time I gotta write him I want to roundhouse kick him.

In the face.

One honourable mention goes to Thetis. I've not quite nailed down his characterisation and even though he's quite a tragic character, the way he warbles out his line after you beat him makes him come across as simultaneously bratty and hilarious. Which means unfortunately I haven't been able to shake thinking of him as a total brat vs the sad character he actually is. I'll get there I'm sure! Hopefully this dislike doesn't come through in the next chapter...

Master Thomas and Master Mikhail are also in here too because I haven't quite gotten their balance of "Their Job As Masters vs Them As A Person Yet," and also I want to punch Master Thomas.

Very hard.

HARDEST TO WRITE

Aile.

Aile I love you.

You'll always have a special place in my heart as the first ZX character I played the game with.

But by the GODS I struggle to write you.

Aile chilled out so much between ZX and Advent that it's been hard getting a balance with her, even WITH reference notes to flesh her out more, and I also don't want her to feel too similar to Vent. I've said it once and I'll say it again, I treat all the ZX characters a bit like they're friends I can ring up and hang out with; what do they enjoy doing? What trigger points will upset them? What foods do they enjoy? That kind of thing helps flesh them out, and Aile for some reason has been hard for me to do that with.

For similar reasons, Atlas and Siarnaq are also hard for me to write.

I THINK I've got a bit of a handle on Atlas now as a person as opposed to just being "The Model F Chosen Who Believes In Social Darwinism," and it's been difficult to flesh her out because I wanted to be respectful of her military background and PTSD whilst not reducing her to only that.

Siarnaq on the other hand is a bit of a blank slate, which SHOULD be good, except at what point does he no longer "feel" like Siarnaq when you flesh him out? Who was he before? Exploring that has been fun but trying to strike that balance between him being TERRIFYING vs seeing a more human side of him has been REALLY difficult.

Add that to the fact that the OC I created originally to be an old friend of his "felt" more like an ex-partner, and I've been struggling. As a notorious disliker of OCxCanon pairings because I've seen so many of them make the Canon character OOC, I'm really scared of falling into that trap. I like Riquis! He's my cool cyber cowboy man in pining, but I don't want him to overshadow Siarnaq and I'm worried he has. So I gotta work more to flesh them out as a couple AND as individuals!

If you've made it this far, hope you enjoyed it and thanks for having the patience to read!

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello love how are you?

I miss the actors au, so i have a promt for you if thats okay.

Thena and Gil are casted in an action/romance movie where their characters have a lot of tension and have to flirt a lot, so their tension in real life gets real high and they kinda start flitring with the other but they are just "friends".

As always thank you for your works 🩷🤍

"You ready?" he asked her, his weapon in hand.

She gave him a look over her shoulder, raising a finely plucked eyebrow. "Are you going to ask me that every time?"

He gave her look right back to her, though, both of them grinning at the exchange. "Well, I believe in words of assurance. Doesn't that help set the mood or something?"

She tested the doorknob, preparing to charge in with him. "Are you asking me as your partner or as a woman?"

He pressed his back to the wall with her. He wasn't nearly as entertained by it as she was. "I'm asking if you're sure about this."

She was surprised by his sudden hesitance. "You think we aren't there yet?"

"I mean dinner is one thing, but taking down this whole compound just us?"

"I knew you had commitment issues."

"You think everyone has commitment issues."

She rolled her eyes at him. "If you can't do this, then fine, I'll take care of it myself-"

He stopped her from going in alone, his hand holding hers back. He moved closer, even, his arm around her and his face nose to nose with hers. "You'll never have to take care of anything alone so long as I'm here. Whether you think we're there or not."

The clip faded out and the audience applauded obligingly. Some was politely directed by the teleprompters and some was genuine enthusiasm. The movie did seem fun and light, with well paced action, based on the snippet presented.

Gil and Thena laughed at the scene chosen, as if they hadn't already seen it countless times during their press tour.

"That was a clip from your latest--I'm already excited," the host of the show exclaimed, leaning back in her chair. "I feel like we haven't seen you guys take on anything this light in a while."

Gil and Thena shared a look. It was always funny for them to do press and receive notes on how their careers were going. Whether they were working on something together or apart, they were spending almost all their time together anyway.

"Well, Thena had her more serious biopic, which swept awards season," Gilgamesh began, openly inviting the audience to shower her with adulation. He clapped as well, chuckling as she ducked her head and played with her hair in a moment of shyness.

"You see why I can't do press with him all the time? I can't take it," she laughed in good nature, spreading her time between the host and the audience. "He's too much."

"It's so sweet how close you are, though," the host beamed, dancing the line between innocent commentary and probing at something more. "I feel like it's not always the case."

"We are lucky," Thena agreed, looking at Gil again with a full smile. Her makeup done for the show made her seem to glow under the lights, from the blush in her cheeks to the colour on her lips. "I can't imagine how insufferable it would be if I didn't like him."

"Well, it'd be pretty hard, if that clip was anything to go by!"

She was somewhat luring them into something--saying something, admitting something.

"Is it hard to get into a character like the ones in this film, or do you find it easier because you already get along so well?"

Thena met the eyes of their host. She was good at her job; the audience was ooh-ing and ah-ing at all the right times. She kept her smile even, though, resting her cheek in her hand. "Well, movies like this one often focus more on the action and the humour than the characters. But we're lucky our writers actually have quite a fun story buried within the scenes."

"It was nice to be able to really play around with the characters and how they interacted and that would, in turn, influence how we played a scene or how we would allude to something that would come into play further down the line," Gilgamesh answered. It was a very practised, media coach approved answer. It really didn't say all that much, but it sounded like he was saying a lot.

"Now, just tell me," the hostess got a devious smirk on her face. "Are you flirting like that the whole movie?"

Thena resisted the urge to roll her eyes, much like her character for the summer blockbuster. "Would you call that flirting?"

Gil laughed beside her, their eyes drawn together and away from the third party on stage with them. "I think that's just how they talk to each other."

"It's natural for them," Thena joined in his laughter. "They get up, go to work, see each other in the elevator-"

"She says 'fuck you', he says 'how hard'?" Gilgamesh joked, which had both he and Thena laughing, as well as the audience in stitches. He made a sheepish face to the camera, "sorry, sorry, forgot you'll have to bleep that."

Thena shrugged one shoulder, "it's not rated R, we can have one truly good profanity."

"Yeah, and you got it," he pointed out, recalling the exact scene in which her character gets the privilege of saying the coveted once-per-movie-F-bomb. "It's a big one, too."

She gave him a look before purring, "not as big as you, baby."

The audience laughed again. Gil and Thena both leaned in their seats, losing themselves in the mirth of it all. The hostess was banging on the table.

She wiped a tear from her eye, picking up her coffee mug only to tip it upside down. "It's okay, there's no coffee in here."

The audience continued to laugh.

"How did you even get any work done like this?"

"Is it really work if you do what you love?" Gilgamesh chuckled, trying to calm his laughter and appear at least somewhat professional. He tugged at the lapel of his suit jacket, although he didn't button it closed. He looked at Thena again. "Wouldn't you agree?"

She made a face; Sprite got her mischievous side from Thena, but neither would ever admit it. "I think they do each other all the time, yes."

The audience roared with laughter again. Thena attempted to hide her completely open laughter with a hand in front of her mouth. Under the cover of it, she whispered to him, "sorry, but that one was too good to pass up."

"Takes one to know one," he whispered back to her.

"Okay, okay, okay," the hostess held her hand up, signalling the audience to cool it and drawing her guests' attentions back to her. "Cool it, kids--leave some room for jesus, 'kay?"

Thena and Gil both chuckled, but they had indeed gravitated closer and closer through the course of their banter. Their thighs were touching.

"Thena," the two women traded grins and raised eyebrows. "First, I have to know where you get your eyebrows done, because you're putting me to shame."

She was funny, Thena conceded. She liked her delivery and her genuine charisma. "It's all my stylist team, I assure you."

"Second," she held up a finger. "Did you write your own dialogue for this movie or what?--you're killin' me, here. You know how hard it is to get your own network show? I'm supposed to be the funny one."

The audience applauded again, the energy in the room still high.

Gil joined in. "She's always been funny--I keep telling people."

"No one believes you," she shook her head at him. They were ignoring their host again and getting lost in the fun of trading little jokes. She toyed with some of her hair, winding it around her finger.

He shook his head, capturing the lock of hair for himself. "That's what happens when you're pretty and talented, people think the rest of your resume is fake."

"Is there anything you can't do?" the host asked, partly for the info and partly so as not to let her own show get away from her again.

"Plenty," Thena looked back at her again, although it had to be said that Gilgamesh was still toying with her hair. "Cooking is top of the list."

"That's okay," the host jumped on the opportunity to bring up more inside info. "I hear he's a master chef all his own."

"It's true."

"It is not."

"It most certainly is," Thena cut him off, tipping her head in his direction again. He tossed her hair over her shoulder but she didn't let it distract her. "He's an amazing home cook."

The host pouted, leaning her chin into her palm with her elbow on top of her desk. "I'm jealous."

Thena nodded at her. "We had a break during filming, while we were changing location and our crew was doing the real heavy lifting work. And the day we were back on set, Gilgamesh brought everyone a little bundle of cookies he had made."

"For everyone?!"

Thena nodded again, confirming the other woman's shock. "He baked at least three hundred cookies so he could give them to everyone in the cast and crew. They were in cute little bundles, tied with ribbon and everything."

"Okay," Gil huffed, blushing modestly.

"Look," Thena pointed at the screen, where the showrunners were pulling up a picture taken and posted on social media. "Isn't it cute?"

The hostess dropped her jaw in the audiences direction. They were being well fed this segment. "Okay, I didn't think there was anything you couldn't do, but now it's him too?!"

Thena raised both her brows at him and crossed her arms with a smirk. "No, there is absolutely nothing he cannot do."

He rolled his eyes, still playing up his bashfulness. He raised his arm up onto the back of the couch, somewhat around Thena's shoulders. His fingers toyed with the fluttery sleeve of her dress. "Except get you to stop, apparently."

"Okay," the hostess tapped the desk, signalling the closing of their time. She turned to the frontmost camera while the other two turned to cover her other angles. "We are gonna take a quick break, and when we come back, the lovebirds here will have some insider info on release dates and we'll even have some questions from our viewers!"

The cameras pulled out and the band played until sound was done rolling. Gil and Thena waved to the audience, as well as the 'audience' at home through the cameras.

"That was amazing, you guys are nailing it," their hostess addressed them openly as her team came scurrying in to retouch her hair and makeup in their brief commercial spot. "Keep up the fun, flirty vibes when we come back, okay?"

Gil and Thena looked at each other. The hostess was further engulfed in assistants and scrip producers and coffee gophers swarming her for their brief five minute window to do their jobs.

"Flirting?" Thena voiced aloud, to which Gil also shrugged. "I wouldn't call it that."

"No," he scoffed in agreement with her. "We're just making friendly conversation. And you're totally killing the audience--just admit you're funny."

She scoffed at him this time, her arms still crossed, him still playing with the sleeve of her dress. "I admit nothing. If anything, you are bringing it out in me. And she's quite humorous."

Gil just chuckled, adjusting himself to fully sit sideways on the couch, since this was the position he would be in for the rest of the interview anyway. He abandoned the dress sleeve and found her stray curl of blonde to play with again. "You're funnier."

And they said they weren't flirting.

[canmom]

the main reason the ending of Hades is frustrating is because on all technical levels it's a brilliant game. the actual moment to moment gameplay is tight as hell, its art direction is incredible, the way it presents its story is a perfect answer to the problem of 'how can you put narrative in a roguelite'. as a game dev working in a similarly small team, there's so much to inspire there.

if it wasn't so thoroughly well made it wouldn't be as frustrating!

moreover on a line by line level the writing is generally really strong - the game does humour very well through characters like Theseus and Skelly or just the way Zagreus plays off the bosses, and while there's so much in the game that not every line will be a winner, the baseline is solid enough that it makes wandering around and talking to everyone between runs very satisfying. Zagreus has a compelling motivation as a protagonist, and his interactions with his dad are really tight. the Olympian gods are generally much more one-note characters but that doesn't really matter as much (Jen Z's illustrations do a lot of heavy lifting of course).

like, yes, ok, Zagreus through his attempts to escape becomes tied up in the stories of the various people of the underworld, and through his stubborn busybody nature he puts right a bunch of needless problems that were persisting for no reason other than insitutional inertia - I get what they're doing there. so, it's the story of how he reunites his family and convinces his dad to try to be a better person (at least as far as his family is concerned...). you have the narrative reversal of 'trying to escape' becoming 'bringing back mum', it's a character arc of changing what you can and reconciling what you can't. but I don't think it sells how sad that is, and the epilogue arc especially is just such a clunky afterthought.

it's also frustrating because I know Supergiant can do better. Bastion, Transistor, and especially Pyre - perhaps not as avant-garde as something like Pathologic, but all had a comfort with a bittersweet or ambiguous ending, and didn't feel the need to wrap up everything neatly with a bow. Pyre especially had an intriguing, rich story that responded in fascinating ways to how you play it, it's so structurally brilliant.

I hope the sequel mixes things up a bit.