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tkomptgoedluv · 10 hours ago

Text

toothpaste kisses.

joost klein x f! reader

request: “could you write a fic with joost x reader where they get intimate and everything is fine and then the reader starts crying, but not because of sadness, but because of how safe the reader feels in their relationship, how loved he makes the reader feel and etc..(just overwhelmed with positive emotions). a lot of angst, but also a lot of fluff, comfort, happiness… like they dont stop being intimate, they continue and its like the best therapy. also aftercare!!!”

tags: f! reader, non-famous! reader, established relationship, literally the most in love two people have ever been, like if twin flames are a thing then it’s them, two freaks get freaky but it’s romantic <3, lil sprinkle of angst, lots of hurt + comfort, even more fluff, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 5,497.

warnings: mentions of past abuse, a very very vauge + brief description of sa, smut, rpf.

notes: hello my lovelies!! i hope you enjoy this one just as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 thank you so so much to the anon who requested it, i hope you don’t mind that i put my own lil spin on it!! and also a big thank you to my gorgeous gorgeous @joosthead for already being this fic’s number #1 fan — i love you my junipoo!! 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

your fingers itched with the urge to rip out your own hair as you felt your stomach twist itself into another knot.

you’d done this to yourself, completely. you’d gotten yourself into a total, utter mess because you’d seen him again, after so many years of trying to pretend that he never even existed at all.

five years ago, you’d been seeing this guy, this absolute asshole of a man, and it had almost been the death of you. as always with guys like him, the first few months had felt dream-like; he was an angel incarnate and yet somehow, he was all yours. the perfect man, heaven sent, and yours.

you had been so sure of it — you were going to marry this guy one day.

but by the time that those rose-tinted glasses of yours had started to fade and you were finally starting to see him for who he truly was, it was too late. you had just moved to a whole new city for him, left your job for him, cut off each and every single one of your friends for him. “they just wanna see us fail, baby.” he’d said, “you’re better off without them.”

and for far too long, you’d believed that. for almost two years, you had put up with his bullshit willingly, because you’d loved him. even after all of those fights he’d started over nothing, all those things of yours that he’d broken because “it’s either that or i give you a fucking black eye or something.”, you still loved him. you only left once he eventually ran out of things to break and staying true to his word, started putting his hands on you instead.

looking back, that was the only promise of his that he’d ever fucking kept.

being without him had made you realise that you actually knew nothing about where you lived now, even though it had already been years by this point. that was why you had gotten so lost that day, that one and only birthday of yours that you’d spent all on your own.

venturing out of that shitty little studio apartment you used to live in had been brave, considering you had no idea where to go or what to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stay indoors anymore. knowing you, it should have been a disaster and it honestly almost was, had it not been for that pretty blond stranger you’d stopped for directions. without him, you probably would’ve ended up god knows where.

luckily for you, though, you just wound up in his bed instead, and three years later you were still there. three years later, you’re celebrating your anniversary with him.

there was never any need for those rose-tinted glasses when it came to joost. no excuses or exceptions that you ever had to make for him. there were no more nights spent crying, locked away in your bathroom, far too afraid to come out because you had no idea what he would do if you did. no more days spent laying in bed because you were still far too sore to move after what he’d done to you the night before.

now your entire life is just travelling around the world with someone you never thought could be real, someone who’s talked you down from just a few too many ledges for you to count, determined to undo all of the damage that the guy before him had done. truly, joost was your best friend; the only person you’d ever met with such a pure heart of gold. the absolutely undisputable love of your life.

and he’d done everything possible to make today as special as he could for you, considering it was obviously also your birthday.

every year you tell him the exact same thing; that the day’s just as much about him as it is you, and that he really doesn’t need to make such a big fuss. and every year he never listens, always clearing out the whole day despite how hectic his schedule always is, just so he can make it all about you. one year he even turned down a spot on a festival lineup because the dates clashed and he deemed you far more important.

earlier in the morning, joost had woken you up with an orgasm so strong that you couldn’t walk for the first hour or two that you were awake. as always, he’d carried you to the bathroom after and gotten you all cleaned up, giggling at how your legs were still shaking, and helped you get ready. you’d laughed with him when he insisted on trying to do your makeup for you too, and had then proceeded to somehow get your eyeshadow everywhere.

cleaning up all of your now pink-stained towels had taken a little longer than expected but you still both made it in time to get breakfast at your favourite cafe. you’d had no idea that booking out an entire section of the place, just for the two of you, was even an option, but that’s exactly what he had done.

then it was back to the marketplace where you’d first met, and joost had let you browse every single one of the stalls. he’d bought you every single little thing that had caught your eye, only stopping when neither of you could carry anything anymore. you’d headed home only once the summer air had started to turn colder and spent the entire uber ride back gushing over the silly girl-stitch plushie he’d bought you in secret, just so you could have one to match his own.

in a way, that was kind of what had led to all of this. why you had gotten yourself so worked up, all teary-eyed and in such a state, whilst joost had you pinned down underneath him.

you really hadn’t seen him in years, not since you’d broken up with him, and he’d looked unrecognisable to you as he’d sat down just a few tables away. because that was just your luck, wasn’t it? seeing your ex at the same restaurant joost had taken you out to for dinner, dressed up all nicely in the suit that you had bought him all those years ago.

from that moment on, you’d been stuck with this dark, bitter feeling that had your stomach tied into all of those knots. your fingers itching with that urge to rip out each and every single strand of hair from your scalp. every bite of your ravioli suddenly started to taste off, almost sour, and you really hadn’t wanted to be there anymore.

it wasn’t because you missed him, because of course you didn’t — not even a little bit. you hated him, despised him actually. you couldn’t stand the very thought of him because for as long as you had been with him, he’d put you through hell and then some. it had taken years of therapy to get to this point where you weren’t having so many nightmares about it all anymore.

it was just that seeing him all of a sudden with someone new, a girl that he was absolutely fawning over, it had done something to you. from the corner of your eye you had seen how he was holding her hand on the table, looking at her with so much adoration that you’d realised that not once had he’d ever looked at you like that. not even once, not even at the beginning.

it never should have bothered you as much as it had. from the inside out, like a parasite, it was eating you alive.

and then joost, in the most wonderful way possible, went ahead and made it all so much worse without even meaning to.

because despite how disappointed he was that you so badly wanted to skip dessert, the milk chocolate cheesecake on the menu having already caught his eye, he’d taken you home the moment you’d asked. he’d been so soft with you as he’d helped you out of your dress, slipping the burgundy silk so carefully down your shoulders and holding your hands as you’d stepped out of your heels. he’d picked you up and laid you down on the bed that you shared as though you’d break if he was too rough, and kissed you everywhere that you’d needed him to.

he already knew that something was wrong — had done since the restaurant because more than anything or anyone else, joost knew you. you weren’t one to ever leave a plate half finished and you’d barely made a dent in your pasta. in a blink of an eye you’d gone from all giddy and energetic to solem, only just about managing to keep up with the conversation that you had been the one to start.

you just weren’t yourself anymore and he had no idea why, so whatever it was that was on your mind, he was going to do everything he could to help you forget about it.

and in the end, it was all too much.

the feeling of joost on top of you, weighing you down as he took such good care of you. the way he was being so unbelievably gentle as he fucked you, his strokes slow but still deep enough to hit all of the right spots. how he was holding himself up with one of his hands as the other grasped your hip and pulled you down onto him with every thrust.

at first it had you whining, mewling, and your nails carving straight lines down the skin of his back. you’d been louder than the creaking of the bed-frame, whimpering sweet, dirty sounds right into his ear. he always loved it when you were vocal like that — he’d told you so the very first time he ever had you caged underneath him like this.

but for the past few minutes you’d fallen uncharacteristically quiet, those near-pornographic moans of yours quickly turning into sniffles as tears began to wet your cheeks.

they weren’t the happy kind. they were the tears that people only ever shed when they’re too caught up inside their own heads.

how kind he was being with you, how kind he always is with you, all it did was remind you of just how safe you are with him. that to joost, you’re something so unbelievably precious and worthy of all this warmth. you’d been so silly earlier to get so upset over your ex, so stupid to have let it almost ruin your evening together.

joost had been too distracted to have heard your first couple of cries, too concentrated on watching it slide in and out to have noticed all of the tears spilling out of your eyes. he was a bit of a perv like that; always will be when it comes to you.

but then he lifted his head up, a grin tugging at the very corners of his lips, desperate to see that doe-eyed, cock-drunk look on your face. he wasn’t expecting to see you look so sad of all things, your eyes already all red and watery as you wept. he stilled immediately and moved his hand from your hip up to brush the hair out of his worried eyes.

“hey, what’s the matter? you okay?”

he hoped to hear you laugh then, reassuring him that you were alright and you were just feeling too many good things all at once. he didn’t like that you tried to hide away from him then, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you mumbled a quiet plea for him to keep going, because you were ‘fine’ and he didn’t need to stop.

“honey, no, you’re crying.” as gently as he could, joost pulled out of you and rolled off, leaning back onto his side of the bed. “what’s going on?”

you were sobbing into your hands now, still laying flat on your back with the duvet all bundled up around your waist. there was still so much of you out on display for him but for a reason that you couldn’t quite explain just yet, letting him see you cry like this felt like far too much. even as he gently tried to pry your hands away, you were fighting to keep them there.

“you’re scaring me, baby. what did i do?”

“no no no, jesus, no, you haven’t done anything, i promise.”

only then did you let him see you, not bothering to stop and wipe your eyes before you dragged him back down to you and curled up as far into him as you possibly could. you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you almost entirely on top of him, letting your legs all tangle together with his own. thick fingers raked through your hair as you laid your head down on his sternum, listening to the strong, heavy rhythm of his heartbeat.

“then what is it, schat? what are you feeling right now?”

a small, blubbering giggle came out when you went to speak, a few more of your tears falling and dampening the blonde hairs on his chest.

“i just…i really love you a lot and i don’t always know what to do with that.”

the short pause that followed had you holding your breath, knowing that he wouldn’t but still expecting him to be at least just a little annoyed with you. with how badly you’d spoiled the moment, you wouldn’t blame him if he was.

“damn, i must be a lot better at the boom-boom than i thought.”

joost couldn’t even finish his sentence without laughing and how you groaned at it, nestling your face in the skin between his pecs, turned that laughter into a high-pitched squeaking.

“joost! i’m being serious.”

“i know, honey, i know, i’m sorry — was just trying to lighten the mood.”

you felt his fingers back in your hair, tucking random pieces behind your ears and brushing loose strands away from your eyes. each movement of his was somehow softer than the last until his hands were cradling your jaw and tilting your head up, your chin resting on his chest.

now that you could see how was he looking at you, with stars all in his eyes and an aching smile on his face, you felt your bottom lip start to quiver again.

“you know i love you too, right? so much.”

the noise that you’d made as you tried to nod your head, a quiet “mhm.” mixed with a sudden, sharp hiccup, made joost laugh again. he swiped each of his thumbs along the very tops of your cheekbones, wiping away all of the water that was still trickling down your face. you were yet to look away so you saw how something in his eyes changed and how that soft smile of his waivered.

“so then why all the tears, baby?”

you stiffened, your muscles tensing under his touch as you finally broke and turned your face away. “i saw koen today — back at the restaurant.”

and just like you had joost also froze, because he knew exactly who koen was; knew every last detail about the guy, in fact. he knew that koen was the reason why you hardly slept during the first few months that you were together, those nightmares of yours keeping you awake for far too many days straight. why you used to never really eat anything, either, because he’d conditioned you to believe that it was somehow ‘unattractive’ if you did. joost also knew that koen was the reason why you’d had hand-shaped bruises around your neck that very first day you’d met.

“that’s why i wanted to leave. as soon as i saw him i just…i couldn’t stay there knowing that he’s not rotting in that shithole apartment like i thought he’d be.”

you took a moment to sit up, the duvet falling off your shoulders as you wiped your runny nose on the back of your hand.

“i know it’s stupid, but seeing him there with a girl and the both of them looking so happy, i just, i never thought that he would change, you know? that he could change, because if so then why not for me? why wasn’t i enough to change for?”

joost copied your movements and sat up as well, taking your hand in his just to play with your fingers as he listened to every word.

“but then you happened, like, you’ve been so perfect to me today, just like how you always are, and it made me think about how lucky i am to have you. i should have never, ever cared, not for a second, about whatever the fuck koen’s up to now because i have you and that’s more than i’ll ever fucking deserve. i meant it when i said i was only crying because i love you too much to know what to do with the feeling -”

your little monologue, your sappy, word-vomit rambling was cut short when joost kissed you hard, his hands holding you steady on either side of your face. as gently as he could he guided you to lay back down, your spine meeting the mattress as his silver chain started to dangle in your face.

this was his way of shutting you up because you were doing it again. you were getting so caught up in the little things, so overwhelmed by your feelings, that you were just upsetting yourself, really. and you do that a lot. for good or for bad, you always let yourself feel such big things that it pulls you apart at the seams sometimes.

like that one morning a couple months ago; you saw a mouse on your walk to work. it’s little pink tail was missing, small clumps of it’s grey fur had been ripped out of it’s skin, and it had just been laying there, unmoving. you’d cried so hard over it that you got sent home before you ever made it in.

or like last year, when joost showed you an early demo of ‘last man standing’ and you’d wept in his arms for god knows how long afterwards. everything he expresses in that song the two of you had talked about before, you knew that was exactly how he felt, yet hearing him sing it had felt far more catastrophic.

“mijn meisje, you don’t ever have to do anything, okay? you’re already ‘it’ — you’re my dream girl.”

with a wobbly bottom lip you nodded, only barely holding yourself together as he grinned down at you, each of his hands beside your head, holding himself up.

“i mean it, baby. can i prove it to you?”

you could have melted right then and there. the way he was talking to you, his voice all low and breathy in your ear as he kissed you up and down your jaw, it was making your head spin. you nodded again, running your hands up and down the skin of his sides until he pulled back a little, that silver chain of his hanging in your face again.

“need to hear you say it, schat. we don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

“no no, please. i’m alright, please don’t stop.”

sitting up on his knees, joost took each of your thighs in his grasp and pulled you down closer to him, wrapping one of your legs around his waist and resting the other on his shoulder. with that gentle grin still plastered across his face he held his pinky out towards you and wiggled it, his eyes softening when you giggled.

“okay, but if you change your mind at any point, you gotta promise me -”

“- i promise i’ll say something.” you hooked your pinky around his and squeezed it before bringing his hand up to your mouth, planting a kiss across his knuckles.

you were going to be the death of him one day.

letting your head fall back against the bed, a small moan slipped past your lips when joost pushed himself back inside, easing himself in all slow and steady. he left soft, wet kisses along the skin of your calf and drew small circles on your clit as he quickly found his rhythm again.

it was cruel, really, the way he was moving oh-so painstakingly slow — how he was purposefully going too slow because he knew that it would have you like this. sweat already dripping down the sides of your forehead, handfuls of the white bedsheets in a tight grasp, begging him to give you more as you writhed on his cock.

you were just so sensitive to it all, weren’t you? so reactive to each and every single one of his touches. you didn’t exactly make it hard for him to taunt you like this, for him to keep dragging it in and out with a thumb still rubbing circles on your clit, knowing full well what it was doing to you. joost could see just how wound up you were getting, could feel you trying to pull him in closer by your leg that curved around his hip.

“fuck…you’re…you’re being mean, joosti.”

with that smile still firmly on his face he chuckled and stilled inside of you, moving his hand away from your clit to readjust both of your legs. your ankles were resting on his shoulders now, and the warm palms of his hands were caressing the skin of your shins.

“am i, baby? i’m sorry.” he placed another kiss onto each of your calves, his hands trailing down until they were squeezing your thighs. “how do you want it, baby? tell me.”

every muscle in your body clenched then, as a singular, sharp breath caught in your throat.

“h-harder.”

you felt him start to move again, his hips thrusting at that same, agonisingly slow pace.

“yeah? think you can handle it? think you’re ready for the boom-boom?”

the noise you managed to produce, something in between a snort and a cackle, was unlike anything you had ever made before. joost was in utter stitches over it above you, his head thrown back in laughter as he wheezed, tears welling up in his eyes. in a mere matter of seconds, both of your faces were bright red, your laughs turning silent as the pair of you struggled to breathe.

bringing your legs down and your knees up to your chest you wrapped your arms around your stomach, feeling that tightness in your tummy grow the harder you laughed. with your eyes squeezed shut, you hadn’t seen joost make a reach for his phone — hadn’t seen him snap a quick picture of you all red in the face and smiling, before playing the song on full volume.

he could barely hold himself up as he began to sing along, hiccuping over every other word as he giggled.

“this is my boom-boom; my love and desire!”

“no, no stop — you can’t do this.”

shaking your head, you were trying to push him off of you before he tossed his phone to the side and caught your hands, holding them together and keeping you firmly in your place.

“this is my boom-boom; set it on fire!”

“absolutely not! you can’t…you can’t sing that song whilst you’re still inside of me.”

he pouted, feigning a quiver in his lips. “but i haven’t even gotten to the good part yet!”

you tried to be stern, tried to stare him down with a frown on your face and a furrow in your eyebrows, pulling your hands free to cross your arms over your chest. you tried to pretend to be annoyed, but after a single moment of silence, the both of you broke. all over again, you were laughing hard enough for it to hurt.

making another reach for his phone, joost finally turned the song off as you wiped the last few stray tears of joy away from your eyes. you wrapped your legs back around his hips and pulled him down until you could weave your arms around his neck too, and moaned when he immediately attached his lips to that sweet spot of yours behind your left ear.

“hey.” his voice was quiet, coming out all muffled as he sucked, licked, nipped at the skin of your neck. “think you can give me one more?”

you felt him smile against you as you shuddered, your nails digging their way back into his spine. “make it two.”

you were waiting to hear him say it, some kind of sassy remark about how ‘you should be careful what you wish for’ or something along those lines, when he knocked a breath out of you. with a hand now holding one of your knees back as the other stayed beside your head, holding himself up, he slammed his hips against yours over and over again.

the sounds were obscene. you were biting into his shoulder, whimpering and whining from every thrust as other parts of you squelched around him, sucking him in. there was no begging for him to go any faster this time around, not when he was already pounding himself into you hard enough to have the headboard banging against the wall.

you were close to delirium as your eyes rolled back inside your head, the rest of you falling limp against the bed. the air around you was hot, almost too hot, and joost’s warm breath fanning against your neck really wasn’t helping. with how wonderfully out of it you were, you had to grip onto each one of his biceps just to feel as though you were still in the room.

“how you doing, honey? talk to me.” joost was grinning again, having finally parted from your neck now that he had left behind a dozen heart-shaped spots along your pulse-point. “does it feel good?”

he already knew that it did; he could tell simply by the look on your face. that gorgeous, brainless, cock-drunk look that he had been so, so desperate to see all evening.

you only just about managed to cry out his name, having long forgotten every single other word in your vocabulary. your mind was blank besides that because all you could think, all you could feel, was him. you felt him drop your knee and slip a hand underneath the base of your neck, cradling your head as he gave you no other option than to meet his eyes.

“you still with me?”

you couldn’t answer him — couldn’t form a sentence, couldn’t even nod your head ‘yes’. at first it worried him, made him call out your name as he slowed down just the slightest bit, until he felt it. you were squeezing him tighter than you had been all night, your legs all tensed up and shaking, still locked firmly around his waist.

small, babbling noises fell from your lips as your stomach began to twist itself up into a much different knot than before. the crease in your eyebrows deepened, your eyes widening as you stared back at a beaming joost. something inside of you, something new, was building up, and up, and up, and you were doing everything you could to keep it all in, too scared to find out what would happen if you didn’t.

“no no no, baby, shh, no it’s okay.” joost had seen the fear start to creep its way into your eyes, the corners of your lips start to droop down into a frightened little frown. prying it away from his arm, he took one of your hands in his and laced your fingers with his own, giving your knuckles a sweet kiss and your palm a soft squeeze. “i’ve got you, it’s okay. you can let it go.”

you hesitated; the cramping in your tummy making you wince.

“let it go for me, schat.”

and with a squeal, you did. you let whatever that thing was inside of you snap as you screamed out his name, clutching onto his hand tight enough to have both of your knuckles turn white.

the sheets were sodden from where you had gushed all over his cock. your lower back quickly began to feel all warm and damp the longer that you stayed laying in the puddle of your own mess, your legs twitching and your chest still heaving. you couldn’t hear him over the ringing in your ears but joost was talking to you, whispering gentle, saccharine praises as he smoothed your hair back and away from your eyes.

“i’m so proud of you, mijn meisje. look at you — you did so well for me.”

the best you could do was hum in response, your cheeks all wet again from the tears that you hadn’t even realised were falling. though you still managed a small hiss when joost pulled out of you as carefully as he could, still half-hard and leaking from his swollen, red tip. confused, you grabbed his wrist when he sat up and went to reach for his boxers, immediately shaking your head ‘no’.

“but you haven’t…i promised you one more.”

you were so good to him; honestly a little too good. even after all of that, after you’d just given him the biggest ego boost of his life by doing the hottest thing known to man and squirting all on his cock, you were happy to give him more. you were already starting to doze off as you tried to pull his underwear out of his hands but was still so eager to continue, just so he could get off too.

joost just smiled down at you, holding his boxers out of your reach as he bent down to kiss you, his free hand grasping your jaw as he gave you a big ol’ wet smooch right on your lips.

“hey, don’t worry about that, okay? you’ve already done so much, been so perfect for me. just rest now, baby — you’ve earned it.”

by the time that he finished speaking, your eyes were already fluttering close.

you fought your hardest to stay awake as joost took the chance to stand up, only a slight stumble in his step as he slipped back into his underwear and a random pair of sweatpants. in fact, you were so focused on not falling asleep, you hadn’t even noticed that you’d drifted off until you suddenly felt an arm slip underneath your knees and another under the curve of your back.

you hadn’t been out too long, just long enough for joost to have gotten you all cleaned up. with one of the only towels from earlier that he hadn’t managed to stain with your makeup, he’d wiped up whatever mess remained between your legs and helped you into something a lot more clean and comfortable. despite all of the pairs of cute pyjama sets that you own, he’d decided that his old ‘i (heart) joost klein’ t-shirt and nothing else was better.

how you’d stayed asleep through all of it was a mystery to you, usually you weren’t such a heavy sleeper like that. but it had taken joost picking you up off of the bed, holding you tightly to his chest as he carried you out of the room for you to come back around, your eyes already heavy with sleep.

“where are we going?”

you yawned and tried to stretch, whining when you felt just how sore and achy your legs really were.

“we’re gonna go for a nap on the sofa, baby — bed’s too messy to sleep in tonight.”

even with how tired you felt, you still felt a pang in your chest. your sofa wasn’t uncomfortable by any means; it was big enough for most of your friends to all sleep on at once and comfy enough for them to not complain about it the morning after. but still, you’d made a mess. ruined a set of perfectly good sheets, probably stained the perfectly good mattress, too.

“sorry.”

“don’t say you’re sorry, oh my god.” joost wasn’t having any of it. if you hadn't of shut your eyes again, you would’ve seen him glance down at you, absolutely bewildered that you felt the need to apologise for such a thing. “i’m not kidding, don’t even try it.”

the soft cotton of the sofa cushion dipped underneath your weight as he laid you down on it, carefully manoeuvring himself beneath you before pulling one of the blankets down, tucking the both of you in. with his chest as your pillow now, you were already barely conscious when you heard him whisper in your ear, his arms wrapping around the dip of your spine.

“love you, goodnight.”

you were going to have to wait until the morning now to get his full, in-depth explanation as to why it was now his mission to have you do what you did tonight, every night.

“love you too.”

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x f!reader #luvvergirlwrites

55 notes · View notes

lelengerine · 20 hours ago

Note

johnny + you - nct dream + fem reader

͙͘͡★ right where we left off

song prompt. “we knew each other in our childhood, but we drifted apart—except i just found out we’ve unknowingly been in the same class for weeks, and now i can’t stop staring at you, wondering if you remember me.”

pairing. childhood playmate!johnny x reader

tags. plot inspired by you [nct dream], college au, childhood friends to ??? but its cute (trust), lots of fluff and a hint of teasing, written with fem!reader in mind but no prns are explicitly used

wc. 1.0k words

notes. this is my first time writing for johnny (and the first work for my drabble event) so im really thankful for this req 🥺 hope you enjoy reading it!! likes, reblogs, and feedback are very much welcome!

꒰ m.list | event m.list ꒱

johnny suh used to be the tall kid who lived next door, but it all feels like a fever dream now—one of those memories so golden-hued and fleeting that you wonder if you had simply dreamt it.

but he was real.

the easygoing boy with scraped knees and a reckless grin, the one who smelled like sun-warmed asphalt and a hint of mischief. the one who, for one dazzling summer, made you feel like the world was brighter just by being in it.

you two weren’t exactly friends, not in the way childhood best friends built forts together and swapped friendship bracelets, yet he noticed you, saw you in a way no one else did back then.

“hey,” he had said one afternoon, standing over you as you sat on the curb with a book in your lap. his shadow spilled across the pages, and when you looked up, the sun framed him like something out of a coming-of-age movie. “you live next door, right?”

you had blinked at him, startled. it wasn’t that you hadn’t seen him before—you had, a lot—but he had never talked to you. not like this. not like he wanted to.

“um. yeah?”

“cool,” he said, rocking back on his heels. the, with a lopsided grin, “wanna learn how to skateboard?”

spoiler alert: you were terrible at it, but he was always patient when it came to you. he laughed when you nearly crashed into a mailbox, pulled you up when you fell, and—despite your complete lack of skill—told you, “you're getting better.”

you called him a liar then and there. still, you’d like to think that was the moment it happened.

the beginning of your crush.

it was the kind that snuck up on you in small steps, cautious yet welcomed. the kind that felt like a warm embrace, making your stomach dip every time he so much looked your way. the kind that had you replaying every little interaction before bed, searching for meaning in the spaces between his words.

but then—just as suddenly as he appeared in your life—he was gone. his family moved away before summer even ended, and you had stood in your driveway, watching their car disappear, pretending you weren’t a little heartbroken.

you still remember how words of empty consolidation filled your mind like a mantra, telling yourself to quickly get over it—that it was nothing more than some puppy love and how it’d fade over time.

years passed by, and that had managed to stay true… until it didn’t, because sitting two rows ahead of you in your 8 am lecture—lounging in his chair like he has all the time in the world—is the same johnny suh.

you nearly choke on air.

how had you not noticed him before? how had he not noticed you? you’ve been in this class together for weeks, and yet—

he stretches, arms lifting above his head, and you swear the entire room shifts around him. he looks different now, but that’s to be expected. he’s grown taller, features sharper, and his presence seems more striking in a way that has the whole class on him.

seriously, how have you never noticed him?

and though some things have changed, the way he tilts his head, the lazy way he scribbles in the margins of his notebook? it’s still somehow him.

you find your heart doing something weird, a mix of nostalgia and sheer what are the odds disbelief. maybe that’s why you’re slow to register him suddenly looking up from the pile of papers on his desk to stretch.

his eyes skim over the room, disinterested—until they land on you and make contact. he pauses, brows furrowing slightly, lips parting, and you see it—the flicker of something almost there, a memory trying to slot into place.

and then—

recognition.

a slow smirk tugs at his lips before he mouths, i know you.

oh god.

your brain screams at you to look away, to try and play it cool, but you’re frozen, caught in the gravitational pull of his gaze.

he turns back to the front of the class with a satisfied look on his face, leaving you to piece your embarrassment together, so it doesn’t come off as a surprise that as soon as the class gets dismissed, you’re already making a beeline for the door, fully prepared to pretend this never happened.

but fate—or rather, he—has other plans.

“hey.”

his voice—deeper than you remember, but still so effortlessly warm—makes you stop in your tracks.

when you turn, he’s standing there, hands in his pockets, wearing the smuggest grin you’ve ever seen.

“you were staring,” he says.

“i was not.” you splutter, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter.

he raises an eyebrow, amused. “i caught you, though?”

oh my god. he’s utterly the same—slightly infuriating, confident, and completely, ridiculously charming. and you? you feel like you’re twelve again, sitting on the curb, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“didn’t think I’d see you again,” he says, tilting his head.

“yeah,” you breathe, still processing. “it’s been a while.”

his gaze flickers over your face, as if committing it to memory, the grin on his lips returning after a brief second “you still skate?”

you let out a laugh—nervous, ever so slightly breathless. “not after you left me with zero guidance.”

“sounds tragic,” he sighs, shaking his head. “guess I’ll have to make it up to you.”

your heart does a somersault. “oh?”

“coffee.” his expression turns teasing, “unless you’re still avoiding me.”

you blink, completely baffled even though you know he’s only messing with you. “i just saw you again.”

“exactly,” he says. “that’s, like, years of lost time. we’ve got a lot to catch up on and i’m not losing my chance a second time around now, that’d be stupid of me, no?”

the giddy warmth bubbling in your chest spreads like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, leaving no room for hesitation. it’s almost ridiculous how easily the words form on your lips, like they’ve been waiting for this moment just as much as you have.

“okay,” you say, tilting your head with a playful smirk. “take me out then.”

and when he smiles in return—easy, familiar, like no time has passed—you realize it: some feelings don’t disappear. they just linger, quiet and patient, until the moment is right.

#lelengerine: youth lovesome 🩷#nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #johnny fluff #nct drabbles #nct 127 drabbles #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #johnny imagines

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gingerteafairy · 2 days ago

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a todd haynes fic based on cologne by beabadoobee.. thats all i got tbh. u can interpret the song however u want, i just thought it'd fit !

are you really asking me to write a fic using one of my favorite artists? you're my friend now. well, i think this song is quite difficult to understand, but this is my vision..

tags n warnings: angst, insecurity, comparing, yearning, friends to lovers. word count: +900

𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒏𝒆

You loved Todd in every way, in every color, in every possible form. But sometimes, loving him hurt. Every time his eyes followed the popular, beautiful girls in the hallways, or when he made casual remarks about someone in a movie, a cruel tightness took over your chest. Like you couldn’t breathe, like something inside you was drowning. Your fingers clung to anything nearby, searching for something solid to keep from falling apart.

Walking home with him was suffocating on days when he talked about his romantic interests. Todd never actually got with anyone, and somehow, that made things worse. He remained untouched, unreachable, like he lived in a world of his own where no one had ever left a mark on him. His fresh scent lingered in the air—warm, inviting, calming. It felt like it had been made just for him, and you feared the day someone else would break that harmony.

You took another deep breath as you followed him up the stairs. The moment you stepped into his room, his scent became stronger, enveloping you like a greenhouse, intoxicating and inescapable.

"Look at that poster. I got it online yesterday." He grinned, his face lighting up with excitement as he pointed to his newest addition on the wall. An Evanescence poster, carefully placed among other bands he loved. "Amy Lee is so beautiful. She has an appeal, so attractive."

Your chest tightened, your fingers curling around the hem of your shirt.

"Am I attractive too?" The words slipped out before you could stop them, low and uncertain. You hadn’t even meant to say them, but exhaustion had loosened your restraint.

Todd blinked, his eyebrows pulling together slightly.

"You?" He echoed, as if making sure he heard you right. A faint flush crept up his cheeks as he cleared his throat, his gaze flickering away for a second before returning to you. "Well... you probably already know that. You don’t need me to say it. Why?"

"I don’t know why I asked." You lied, looking away, your words rushing out as if trying to hide something that had already spilled over. "Forget it. I… it doesn’t make sense."

"What doesn’t make sense?" He turned to you fully now, his expression shifting, growing serious. He took a step closer, his body warmth closing the space between you. His fingers brushed against your arms, firm yet gentle. Less oxygen, more cologne, more of him.

"I hate this thing between us." The words burst out of you, as if the weight of everything was caving in on your lungs. Your skin burned under his subtle touch as his fingers traced lightly up your back.

"I’m sorry." Todd murmured, his voice thick with guilt, even though he didn’t understand why. He always apologized. Always tried to fix things, even when he didn’t know what was broken. "I don’t know what I did to hurt you, but if it was something I said—"

"Would you kiss me?" Your voice trembled, your throat tightening. The posters on the wall seemed to close in, suffocating you. "Would you be with me the way you say you’d be with those girls? Because I know I don’t compare to any of them."

Your eyes welled up with tears before you could stop them. The makeup you had carefully applied that afternoon, hoping he would notice, began to smudge, dripping like a cruel reminder of your failed attempts.

Todd froze. The arms that had been around you slowly dropped to his sides. His eyes flickered over your face, uncertainty clouding his expression.

"I’d do so much more than that." His voice finally broke the silence, and his words crashed into you like a wave, washing away the ache inside you. Your breath caught in your throat. Todd gave a small, awkward smile, like the words felt foreign coming from his lips. "I just… I didn’t want to ruin our friendship because of it."

Your lips trembled, and before you knew it, your arms were wrapped around him, holding him tightly. His heartbeat pounded against your ear, fast and uneven, and it hit you—you had never imagined you could make him feel this way. That sound, that rhythm, was now burned into your memory.

Todd hugged you back, his lips brushing your cheek. A familiar gesture—he always did that. But the next one wasn’t.

His lips barely ghosted over your neck, so faint you almost thought you imagined it, but the shiver that shot through your body told you otherwise. A spark ran down your spine, leaving your skin buzzing.

Todd took a deep breath against your neck, hesitating for just a moment before pressing a firmer kiss there. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer.

"You’re beautiful." He whispered against your skin, then pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead. His voice was steady now, like he needed you to believe it as much as he did. "And so damn attractive. I just don’t know how you never noticed."

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting his words sink in.

"Kiss my neck again. Please." Your voice was soft, but thick with a longing that had been waiting too long.

Todd didn’t hesitate. How could he deny something he wanted just as much? His lips found your neck once more, and in that moment, you knew—there was no turning back. You were the first to break the notes of his cologne.

#todd haynes x y/n #todd haynes x you #todd haynes x reader #x reader #imagine #reader insert #fanfic #evan peters #evan peters fandom #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #evan peters x y/n #beabadoobee #kick ass imagine

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ireadwithmyears · 1 day ago

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Hey, Shay! Congrats again on 300! Thanks for writing us stories! It's such a sweet idea to make personal ones.

I'm not picky. I'm currently writing for Dogma, Fox, Hardcase, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair, but really any clone is fine even if you want to make up an OC clone.

Could I get a fic where the reader feels she doesn't matter? She feels taken for granted by her family and forgotten by her friends—an afterthought. She doesn't think she's anyone's priority, and that's where the clone comes in.

Female reader please, but it can be SFW or NSFW, whichever way your imagination goes.

If You Love Me for Me

Pairing: Echo/Fem Reader

Word count: 3 K

For my 300 follower milestone event (Now closed)

Tags/warnings: Angst, mentions of familial issues, anxiety and insecurity, friends to lovers, getting together, kissing, brief mention of very minor injury.

Summary: In a world where your family has made you believe that you are everyone’s last priority, Echo makes sure that to him, you will always be his first.

Authors note: So I named a fic after a Barbie movie song, to which, I say, what about it 🤷‍♀️ I really hope that I could capture all of those feelings that you were experiencing when you sent me that ask, Amber, and I really hope you enjoy this story.

No one notices when you quietly slip out the back entrance of your parents’ house and leave.

And maybe, you think, shimmying yourself up to hop the low garden fence, not wanting to risk unlatching it so that someone might hear the indignant, rusted whine the gate makes as it opens, that’s the part that stings the most.

They don’t notice, and a sharp, bitter and intrusive part of you can’t help but think it’s because they don’t care.

That, you concede, is definitely an oversimplification. They care enough, you try to tell yourself. Enough to make sure that there will always be food in your fridge and that you’ll always have a roof over your head. They care enough to, mostly, support your career endeavours even if they don’t totally understand them. They care enough to love you, or at least say that they do, even though sometimes, the sentiment rings hollow in your ears coming from them.

Maybe it’s because you’re selfish, your traitorous mind whispers as you wander the walkways beneath Pabu’s setting sun. Isn’t that what your mom had called you, in a fit of anger when you had gotten into some stupid argument about something or other that you couldn’t remember now long ago when you were still a teenager. Selfish, ungrateful, overly sensitive and, apparently, still needs to fucking grow up.

All they are is words, you try to remind yourself, words from a long, long time ago. Words that, if you brought them up to her now, she’d probably claim she never actually said.

Again, you think, hearing your mother’s voice in your head. Grow up, get over it.

Your eyes smart, and you frustratedly kick out at a loose pebble that’s gotten caught beneath your shoe on the pavement, listening as it bounces and quietly skitters away.

You had tried to stay for family dinner tonight, because that’s what normal, functional and supportive families were supposed to do. You had stayed, even as they passed you over in conversation. You had stayed even as they had celebrated your recent achievements in your career as an art vendor with the most cursory of congratulations. You had stayed even when, with difficulty, they had chatted and gushed at length about your brother's new shiny career as a lawyer, you had still stayed because you were a good, supportive daughter and sister.

You’re not sure what, exactly, was the thing that pushed you over the edge and had you quietly sneaking out the back door. All you know is that you feel taken for granted, forgotten and alone. And worst of all, like your family doesn’t even know you, or care to know you and your interests, your passions, the things that make you smile, the facets of yourself that make you, well, you.

And that, most of all, is the thing that twists like a knife in the pit of your stomach now, the tears openly sliding down your cheeks in a slow, silent stream as you let your feet carry you up and around the island’s spiralling staircases, unsure of where you’re going until you find yourself quietly mounting the steps to his porch.

You shouldn’t be here right now.

You snap back into reality with a jolt so hard that you have to reach out a fumbling hand to grasp onto the wooden railing, lest you should stumble backwards off the steps of the porch and fall into the dirt directly on your butt.

He shouldn’t have to see you when you’re like this.

Not Echo, who you’re convinced might be the one person in the world who looks at you with something more than a bland, passing interest or indifference. He can’t see you when you’re unhappy, tears rolling down your face, because what if that makes him step away? What if, like your family, he finds the sight of your tears discomforting. What if, when you explain yourself, he thinks you’re just as ungrateful, just as selfish, as they all think you are.

A sob claws its way up your throat and you stumble, thankfully forward this time as you turn around to leave, to disappear into the night without him ever knowing that you’re here, and then creak…

The sound of the door opening in the quiet of the night scares you so bad that you trip, and your hands flail uselessly as you cry out, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood as you feel the rough and uneven pavement bite into the skin of your knees when you hit the ground.

“I thought I saw you sneaking around outside,” says Echo, and his voice is warm, jovial, even as he moves to help you up from the ground. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he continues, looping your arm through his. “But seeing as I did, and it looks like you’ve banged up your knees as a result, the least I can do is help you patch them up.”

You let him pull you to your feet, suddenly lacking the energy to protest, blinking as you look down and catch a glimpse of torn jeans, a small collection of scrapes decorating the skin beneath. Great, you think, both exasperated and subdued. Now you’re burdening him.

“It’s cold out there,” he hums, steering you over to an armchair. “Did you forget your jacket?”

The fireplace is blazing, and only now that the heat of the flames is lightly caressing your skin from where you sit, do you realize how cold you are. Your arms prickle with goosebumps, and you belatedly realize that you must have left your jacket on the hook at the front door of your parents’ house. Mutely, you nod your head, and Echo clucks with disapproval.

Nonetheless, moments later, he’s quietly instructing you to lift your arms and when you do, he slides one of his, much larger, sweaters over your head, helping you gather your hair to gently pull it free of where it’s caught inside the hoodie almost without conscious thought.

“What would I do without you?” you ask, burying your hands within the baggy sleeves and holding your arms close to yourself as you look up at him.

“Probably forget your own head, if it wasn’t already attached,” he says wryly, giving you a playful tap on the nose, his scomp resting on his hip..

He settles on the floor, carefully lifting up one of your feet so that your leg is propped on an ottoman in front of you, letting out a low whistle as he moves carefully to snip away at the already ripped fabric at the knee of your jeans.

“Am I gonna live?” you ask sarcastically, and have the satisfaction of watching as Echo tries to restrain his lips from pulling upward into a small smile.

“It’s bleeding a bit, and there’s also some debris,” he says, rising to his feet and moving towards the kitchen sink so that he can wet a washcloth. “But yeah, you’ll live. Shouldn’t even have to amputate,” he adds, not bothering to hide his grin this time.

You snort, even as you instinctively flinch when he starts cleaning the scrapes. He gives you an apologetic smile, even as he shifts to rest his scomp over your leg to keep you still. For a while, it’s quiet, the only sounds in the room your combined breathing, the gentle dabbing of the damp cloth against your skin, and the occasional chink of tweezers as Echo carefully removes small rock fragments from the wounds.

So,” he ventures, after the silence has stretched out for too long. “Family dinner really that bad?”

“How could you tell?” you ask with an exhausted sigh, leaning back as your eyes roll up towards the ceiling.

“I know you,” he states simply, and you startle a bit when you feel his thumb against your cheek, until he pulls back and holds up his hand, the tip of his finger smudged with something dark. Your mascara, you realize, your cheeks going pink with embarrassment. The lingering evidence of your tears.

“And I know that they’re the only ones who can make you cry like that.”

You sniff and his eyes, when you dare to turn yours away from the ceiling to actually look at him properly, are two pools of soft, amber warmth and compassion that nearly push you to dissolve into a fresh wave of tears all over again. Gritting your teeth, you force it back, straightening and trying to recover any shred of dignity that remains within you.

Still, the treacherous voice that lurks in the back of your mind still whispers.

He doesn’t want you here.

He’ll listen to what you say with passive interest, he’ll be nice to you because he feels obligated and still, all the while, he’s secretly waiting for you to leave. Because you’re unremarkable, you go quiet and make awkward pauses in conversation because you want, so much, to be liked, loved, valued, and at the same time you have no idea what you have to do to make people look at you with anything other than a detached apathy for your presence.

And here he is, fresh off a long stretch of missions working for the burgeoning underground rebellion, returned home, eager for a rest, and probably some quiet, and time where, for once, he doesn’t have to worry about other people, and can set aside his deep-rooted sense of duty to focus on himself.

Instead, you’re here, showing up unannounced because you’re too clingy, too sensitive, too reliant on others to deal with your emotions, because you can’t just be normal and take it all on the chin like everyone else does. And he’s here, he’s listening, but probably not because he wants to, but more because you, selfish, needy as you are, have taken advantage of his kindness, and he’s listening because he feels obligated to.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, abruptly rushing to get to your feet and hastening to get to the door. “I’ve intruded on your night long enough already. I know you have much higher priorities that you probably need to sort out so I’ll just.”

“Hey,” his voice, quiet but stern, brings your rambling attempt to make excuses straight to a halt, his hand catching your wrist insistent as he turns you around to face him, looking down at you, his expression almost inscrutable.

“I,” you blink, looking up at him, confused. It’s then that you notice the sleeves of his sweater have fallen down over your hands and you blink, startled, then realize that this must be what he wants before you go. “Oh, your sweater, sorry. Here, let me just.”

“Stop.”

All of a sudden his hand falls away and his arms hang limply at his sides. He takes a step back, letting out a breath, exhaling softly in the quiet of the room. You freeze, looking up at him with widened eyes. His eyes keenly take you in, seeming to search for something that he doesn’t appear to find before he next speaks.

“Do you want to leave?” he asks, his voice carrying an underlying tension that you struggle to place the origin of.

“What?” you ask, bewildered, slightly taken aback and confused at the seemingly abrupt shift. “No, I, I just.” You shake your head from side to side, as if the action might help shake free the words that are quickly becoming lodged in your throat.

He once again steps closer, moving towards you in a similar fashion to how he might approach a wounded animal. Only once he’s there, he stops being timid. He steps into your space, lightly pushing until you’re pressed up against the door. Observing no further resistance or protest on your part, he then reaches down, lightly taking your chin between his fingers and guiding it upward so that you’re looking into his warm, honey brown eyes, his expression still unreadable.

“Whatever you’ve been thinking,” he says, his voice so quiet that it’s barely above a whisper. “Whatever I have done to make you feel like you are anything less than the first thing I think about every time I return home to Pabu... then I must apologize for not making my intentions clear.”

He strokes your cheek, and you absently saver in the feeling of his fingers trailing along your skin, your mind struggling to follow the thread of his words.

“Echo...I,” you stammer, because apparently those are the only words that your brain is capable of coming up with. You swallow, and, mortified, you feel your eyes beginning to burn with the sting of unshed tears. One drops, glistening on your eyelash a moment before falling to the tips of Echo’s fingers. He blinks, eyes widening as he looks down at it. Then, shaking his head, he pulls you into his arms, tucking your head beneath his chin as he lightly sways the two of you back and forth.

“Listen to me,” he speaks after a long moment, your silent tears dampening the material of his shirt as you bite down hard on your bottom lip to contain the sounds that are fighting to escape.

You’re not even sure why you’re crying at this point. All you know is that he’s here, steady, solid muscles combined with the cool, foreign press of metal and steel as he holds you gently.

“You are my first priority,” he says, his voice low and soft, but almost firm in its promise. “My first, you hear me?”

You nod your head, not trusting yourself to speak and his arms tighten, pulling you closer just a fraction, so that you can feel his heartbeat, thumping steadily against your ear.

“And I am so sorry,” he continues, his voice falling into almost a saddened whisper. “That so many people have made you feel like you’re their last.”

A quiet sniffle forces its way from your throat and you tremble, struggling to hold the dam together as it breaks. Echo holds onto you, metal arm carefully tucked around your waist, his free hand slowly gliding up and down your back. He doesn’t speak, knowing that words would most likely be meaningless at best, and at worst, force you back into your shell of trying to keep yourself together purely for his comfort. He certainly doesn’t want that, and so, he holds you, simply allowing you to cry into the material of his shirt as he shifts on the balls of his feet, rocking the two of you back-and-forth until you calm.

“E-echo?” you ask after your tears have mostly subsided, looking up at him with still watery eyes as you blink.

“Hm?” he asks, reaching to wipe your tears away with his thumb.

His eyes are soft, filled with an adoration that you feel is out of place, considering the state of you. But his fingers remain gentle, his hand still warm and soft, as he slowly brushes it over the crown of your head, smoothing back your hair. You can’t help the way you find yourself blushing, unable to explain it beyond the way he’s touching you, the way that he is looking at you right now feels almost... reverent? Which doesn’t make any sense to you at all.

“I’ve messed up your shirt,” is all that you can think to come up with, glancing down at the evident tear stain on the centre of his chest.

“That’s alright,” he says, giving you a small shrug before his eyes turn mischievous. “What, you looking for an invitation for me to take it off, meshla?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you groan, your eyes rolling towards the ceiling even as you feel your cheeks turning to a shade of bright red.

“And you’re blushing,” he says, sounding smug as he grabs your chin, tilting your head to look at him as his fingers brush against your heated cheek. “Now isn’t that sweet.”

You look up at him, feeling lost, because he still has that look on his face. The one that says that he very well might want to kiss you right now and, startled, you realize that in the same breath, you very much want him to do just that. A part of you still hesitates though, always waiting, always cautious, always wondering when the other shoe might drop. Echo notices the changed expression on your face and he stills, sobering immediately.

“A-are you sure you want me to stay?” you ask, your voice soft, breathless and nervous with restrained want, with held-back hopes and longing that pulls at all of the strings within his heart.

“Do I want you to stay?” he asks, his voice sounding incredulous as his eyebrows raise.

He leans forward, his forehead lightly bumping against yours as his fingers gently thread into your hair. There’s a breath, a warm brush of air against your lips as he pauses, watching you for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, he brings his lips to yours, kissing you softly, but wanting, eager and by no means delicate, pressing his lips against yours in a manner that suggests that he’s been wanting, needing to do that for a long, long time prior.

When he pulls away, you’re breathless, and he smirks, pleased and, probably, also a little bit smug, the corners of his lips twitching as he attempts to contain it as he looks down at you, blushing and unable to form words. He leans in, brushing his thumb against your parted lips, his voice a soft, low rumble of amusement as he asks you.

“I think that probably answers your question, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you say, stepping forward and rising up on your toes.

You press a kiss to his cheek, and then another one to his lips, unable to resist your own pulling upward into a broad smile. You’re surprised, filled with an almost overwhelming sense of giddiness that feels foreign, but it makes you want to dance or jump up and down or start flying.

You can’t, though, so instead, you settle on kissing him again.

“Yeah,” you say again, gazing up into his warm, softened eyes. “I definitely think it does.”

Thank you @saradika-graphics for these dividers.

If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment. I would really appreciate it :-)

#echo x reader #tbb echo x reader #echo #arc trooper echo #tbb echo #The bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #star wars #the clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars #tcw #Ireadwithmyears 300 #ireadwithmyears fics

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disastardly · 9 hours ago

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Speaking as an outsider the buddie evidence is just not there at this point. I think it looks crazy and culty

If I'm being honest, I think there's evidence that there *was* something there, but the time has passed.

It's been 20+ years since I put a name to my own bisexuality, and I'm still getting hit with realizations that I probably had a same-sex crush on someone and just compartmentalized those feelings away because the other person was (afaik) straight and therefore Off Limits.

(My best friend came out as bi in our mid-twenties and it took us both a few years after that to admit that we probably would've dated if we knew it was an option, but we're both married now, so maybe I'm projecting some of that onto the Buddie relationship.)

Of course, this is just my experience and not representative of all bi people, but I see a lot of that experience in the way Buck talked about his relationship to Eddie in the latest episode. There was something there, past tense. He loves Eddie, but doesn't want to fuck him, like how I still love my best friend, platonically.

But the writers are talking out of both sides of their mouth when they write stuff like this. Buck can say he's definitively not in love with Eddie, and you can apply your existing biases to read that as absolute truth or a "lady doth protest too much" moment. Tommy's bitchy little expressions and comments when Buck asserts Eddie's straightness can either be him being blinded by jealousy or game recognizing game. It goes on and on.

There is certainly a... devotion... to the concept of Buddie from a subsect of fans that I find off-putting and overly intense, even by fandom standards. Culty definitely isn't inaccurate - I don't want to do the whole fandom-old "in my day" routine, but I've been there. I was in the Destiel trenches. I remember. There was a time when a ship like Buddie going canon wasn't even a shine in our eyes because that sort of thing just never happened, and if it did, it was vague, or last minute, or easily edited out, handwaved away, etc. Things have changed (and that's great!) but fandom changed with it, and now some people have a sort of... entitlement, like they've followed along for so long and been so patient, and their dedication has earned them their ship being canonized.

Obviously this doesn't apply to everyone - I still follow plenty of Buddies, and I wholeheartedly ship Buddietommy, but that culty vibe doesn't come from the chill ones. Which why I've blocked most of those people and filtered a lot of specific tags, lmao.

All that said, I've got a fully-stocked mini-car full of rainbow wigs and red noses and I'm roadtripping to BuckTommy-Endgame-ville. Whether Buddie goes canon ever or not, they can't take away the fact that BuckTommy *is* and will always be canon.

#911 spoilers #911 discourse #bucktommy #anti buddie #(not exactly anti buddie but also...#anti BoBs I guess lmao)

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acourtofthought · 2 days ago

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Based on those anons they didn’t necessarily say why Elucien can’t or won’t be next. I am not any of those anons by the way I love Elucien, so I get what you’re saying. They’re just saying it would definitely be something to be sad about if Gwyn and Azriel interactin a meaningful way with Nyx before Elain does. And Elain and Feyre aren’t close just because they live together. Feyre herself said in her bonus chapter that Elain is a “pleasant companion” and not someone she would turn to for advice when she has a problem. Being closer doesn’t mean much if they started from -10.

And please can you stop antagonizing Gwynriel? We’re already in the trenches and every few days or weeks, you subtly take a jab at Nesta or Azriel or some other character just to make Elain seem better. It doesn’t make Elain more likable, trust me. It’s okay if she’s underdeveloped in some people’s opinion, so many people in the fandom think that, but that doesn’t mean Gwynriels are actively trying to badmouth Elain when they say it.

We and Gwynriels already have E/riels to be annoyed about. I’m sorry you get these anons, but you keep making me nervous when you make posts like that. Ones that make it seem like Gwynriels can’t be as important as Elain and Elucien. Or when you comment on other people’s posts when they say Elain is less developed, just to argue that that’s not the case in your opinion.

Let’s not do this. You don’t even need to answer this. I just feel like there’s too much negativity in this shipwar and I can’t handle it if Elucien and Gwynriel are also butting heads.

This is the last time I'm going to say this but these were my tags:

Why would any Gwynriel have issues with my clearly Elucien post when there were no Gwynriel tags to be found? If it is an Elucien post, I don't need to make sure to cater to the Gwynriel ship. I don't NEED to make Gwyn and Az seem as important as Elucien when it comes to my own thoughts. Thoughts that had nothing to do with my claiming something as fact and that it has to happen for that reason, but my own feelings on what would make me sad though I admitted Sarah probably wouldn't even focus on it when writing what she wants to write.

The times I've commented on other posts is when they literally tag Elain and Elucien while claiming she's not developed so she's not ready for a book. Do you see the difference? That's forcing Elucien's to see a pretty anti take yet you would flip your shit if any Elucien said they didn't feel Gwyn was developed enough and we tagged it Gwyn.

Also, in case you haven't noticed, Sarah has been writing these books with a huge part of the plot showing the sisters relationship being healed. Which we saw with Nesta's book when it came to Feyre and which we'll see when Elain has her book. Feyre and Elain might never be best friends, nor will Nesta and Elain but they will ALWAYS be sisters and that means something. Az is more Nesta's friend than Feyre's and Gwyn doesn't even know Feyre so what's your point?

Honestly, it is HYSTERICAL that I'm writing posts on my blog, using correct tags and now being harassed by whoever the hell is sending these anons yet I'm supposedly the one antagonizing Gwynriels 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Some Gwynriels (not all) have been throwing jabs at Elucien's because of Elain since forever, it's weird how those same people can't handle a fully Elucien post that merely said "I'd like to read about Elains POV before Gwyn and Az's because of XYZ though I realize that's not necessarily how Sarah thinks." If that's too much for your hypocritical sensibilities, I can send you directions for the block button.

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razildor · 2 days ago

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WIP Wednesday/Whenever/Oh Man What Day Is It

I'm VERY behind on posts I've been tagged in. I got new job and working notice while working on my days off is kicking my ass, just two weeks but writing is gonna be slow.

I was tagged by: @holdingontojupiter @silshinobii @thequeenofthewinter @ollypopwrites @aldisobey If I missed anyone I'm sorry lmao. I won't tag anyone since everyone has done it for the week I think? If not go for it and tag me.

Have more from Chase because that's all I got right now.

Rook both loved and hated the skull helmet that Emmrich sometimes wears while in the Necropolis, how long have they both been down here? An hour or two at best but to Rook it felt like days. Of all days for her to get really horny and it was because of the Mage’s skull helm.

Looking over at the Necromancer, Rook watches him finish summoning a helpful wisp into a skeleton, two of them already working to clear the debris and stone. Her eyes rest on his flowy arms, almost finishing the cast, she couldn’t help but admire not only the green magic that flows ever so gently. But also the movement of his long fingers, how the light from his magic catches on his grave gold.

“Darling? Are you alright?”

“Yea- Yeah! Just lost in thought.”

“Are you quite sure? You don't seem your normal self.”

Emmrich comes closer, raises a ringed Hand, Feeling rooks forehead the back of it. still Wearing the helm.

Rook tried looking anywhere but at him. At the helm, him being so close sent all sorts of thoughts through her mind, the soap he used that morning, his aftershave and the slight smell of the necropolis that always clung to him. but The helm… Oh Maker how the thought of him making love to her with It ok, would he go slow? Gentle rocking of his hips, each thrust sending his cock deep within her while he holds her face firm but with care, having her stare up at him as he speaks Nothing but tender words.

Or would he hold her down just how she likes, pinned under him, ringed hand holding wrists in place while showing no mercy with his thrusts, fucking into her until she's forgotten her own name but only remembering his.

“Rook?” Emmrich says softly, voice full Of concern, lowering the hand to rest it on the stone table she currently sits on. Caging her between arms.

“It's… it's your helm…”

“My helm?” He questions, tilting his head slightly, forgetting He's still wearing it. “I thought you liked it?”

“I do! I really do it… Gives you that imposing look, and grace and… And….I-” She trails off, looking down as she fidgets with the leather buckle that keeps his coat in place.

“And you?”

“I really like it when you wear it” She Answers, wishing a demon would come and swallow her whole to save her from admitting her thoughts.

“I'm sorry my dear, I am deeply confused. If you like my helm then what's wrong?”

“I like it because it makes you look both intimidating and sexy at the same time, I have… thoughts of you doing things to me with it on.”

A long deafening pause between the two, Emmrich trying to process what Rook meant by her words.

“Oh.”

Rook felt her cheeks burn, rarely did she feel embarrassed by sex but this… Well, what was she meant to say?

“Yeah- Well… Sha-shall we get back to work? That artifact won’t make it to Vorgoth on its own!” Rook quickly slides under Emmrich’s arms, grabbing a random tool from the table in her haste- a brush, making her way towards the half buried artifact

“Oh? You enjoy the idea of me wearing this while I'm deep inside of you?” Emmrich whispers behind the helm, bending forward to be eye level with Rook, a whimper leaves her lips, body becoming stiff at the closeness.

“Holding you in place while my cock thrusts into that delectable warmth of yours? Until you're screaming my name for the whole of the Necropolis to hear? Filling you with my seed until it sat deep within you?”

“I…No?” Rook answers, clearly unsure of her own words, the lie sat heavily on her tongue, trying to keep those thoughts locked up. Yes she does want Emmrich to wear the mask while fucking her until she can't even remember her name.

“Hm, you're lying to me, you know I do not like lies, my sweet girl.”

“I… Fine! Yes! I like it when you wear it! And… yes, to you… chasing me and… yeah.”

She huffs, crossing her arms and balling in on herself, much as she could between Emmrich’s arms, poking his chest when a slow rumble of a laugh comes from him. gasping as a gold-ringed hand found its way to her jaw, leaning closer to tower over the woman, The teeth of the skull coming closer to her lips, she could imagine Emmrich’s own brushing against hers if he let the illusion go.

“Something to experiment with, I think.”

Rook's heart flutters with excitement. Fully ready to agree to him fucking her right here and now yet a noise of confusion leaves her as he turns back to start working on reanimation another skeleton.

“Wait… I thought?”

“I'm sorry darling, we really need to finish this. We can talk more about it once we're back at the lighthouse, I promise you.”

Rook didn't like his answer one bit. She wanted it now, Emmrich couldn't tease her like that, making promises just to leave her without anything right at that moment!

An annoyed exhale from her lungs, eyes boring into his back yet the Mage doesn't shift, completely fixated on his work. With narrowed eyes Rook starts to form a plan. She will get him to fuck her with that damn helmet on.

Her eyes shift to the set of tools they brought along with them, eyeing one that Emmrich will be needing soon, very soon if she doesn't act now. With a smug look she slowly hops down from the table, pocketing the tool before walking past him, hand sliding along his backside.

“I'll be checking something in the Gardens then. I want to take some notes on one of the flowers.”

“Very well, dearest, I shouldn't be long!”

Emmrich hums to himself as he finishes up with the skeleton, making sure its working at the right digsite before he moves over to check on the artifacts some of them found, dropping the illusion of the skull, taking a moment to make sure his hair was perfectly in place before a gloved hand reaching out towards the tools. Frowning as he fails to come into contact with the one he needed.

Looking at the empty spot he narrows his eyes, he was sure he brought them all, perhaps he did forget-

His head snaps towards the path Rook took towards the Gardens, she did sound oddly smug when she told him where she was heading… on that little mink.

“So that's your game, my dear… How very brave… But also foolish.”

Picking up his staff Emmrich marches down the path Rook took, with a wave of his hand the skull helm returns over his face, lighting the way even more. His voice slightly echoed down the chamber.

“Run while you can, my little thief. I will not show you mercy when I catch you.”

#Razildor writes #wip wednesday #wip whenever #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #emmrook #emmrook smut #emmrich x rook #emmrich volkarin

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blightbright · 1 day ago

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@huldine's tags:

#this is a controversial take but imo that concept for him was just supreme #the more we got into fen'harel lore reveals the farther away it all felt from what i loved in the beginning #which is crazy to say but esp with veilguard i feel that #AND ITS NOT THAT I DONT LOVE FENHAREL VER..... #but when i write him in fic i am ALWAYS going off of that solas with the dedication to resistance and revolution that comes from his own #morality and love of people even those not considered people #i literally sjw-ify solas so bad LMAO sorry everyone but i love it #hes just my sweet little guy at the end of the day....

my own hot take riffing off of this:

I think this is exactly who he is, even in canon DATV (which has unreliable narrator elements), and it's why when I was in the middle of writing my main Solavellan fic (sea of frozen words), I kept reminding readers that there would be a TRUE HAPPY ENDING (which there is) if people were willing to stick with me on a shadow work/underworld journey (metaphorically and literally in-universe), from which we would emerge. I love the full journey (so that's where I differ from OP) but ALSO, I see it as more of a labyrinth or a spiral, where we circle back to where we started and realize the first impression of fervent kindness from someone who's experienced oppression firsthand? that was right all along. he never deceived Lavellan about his most authentic self and values.

my Lavellan had to face, head on, all the apparent brutality and seeming disdain for life, all the legitimate horrors and pain, and all the devastating assumptions that Solas was allowing people to make in part because of his willingness to be hated and seen as a villain if it saved more lives for the most vulnerable. my Lavellan had to process her own trauma, test her own dynamic with Solas to see if his true self was even capable of loving her the way she needed (good news!), and explore her own complexities, because how else could she really be confident in a choice to be with him forever? and I as a writer had to keep peeling layers asking why, why, why, until suddenly it clicked and there, left underneath, was a Solas made up of beautiful resistance and absolute love for objectified people.

I legit legit legit think Solas is in disguise as himself in DA:I. he's that apostate hobo wandering off to help at his surface layer, then it's stripped away and there's all this other scary and uncomfortable and painful stuff underneath, a lot of which is playing to others' expectations or being forced upon him in various ways, and then back down at his core once again, there's that inner self that's truthful to exactly who he showed us he is in DA:I.

I don't think it's possible to SJW-ify Solas too much TBH.

For me personally, when I say I’m a Solavellan I mean the blissful ignorance of love for that apostate hobo that wandered off to help the healer in the Hinterlands. I fell in love with whoever was nothing more than that. The more I learnt about him the more I missed who I thought he was when I was so naive to this type of story telling.

#I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THIS #literal tears lol #solas meta #solas analysis #the dread wolf #fen'harel #datv spoilers #solavellan #idunn lavellan #sea of frozen words

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beanghostprincess · 1 year ago

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A lil question: What do you all think about Ko-fi for writers? The writer being obviously me, lmfao.

I've seen quite a huge, huge increase in the amount of asks I get per day, usually with prompts and concepts that, even if they're not for fanfiction technically and anons aren't asking for them, it's quite obvious that they're asking me to give my opinion or to write something based on that. Because you all know I always end up writing fanfics about asks or just a long, long analysis that could end up being a fic. Anyway- The thing is, I gladly do it for free because I absolutely love it and those are not commissions or people actively asking me for fanfics. But I was thinking that if there are so many people interested in my views and writing (apparently you all like my writing and want more, which is, wow, fucking awesome to me) maybe you'd be interested in me opening a Ko-fi?

It would work kind of like this (please, if somebody has more ideas, tell me. I have no idea how these things work and it'd be great if you could help):

Ko-fi for donations and commissions. Simple as that. Because I want to write my own original book and I also keep writing fics. It's a good way for some of you to donate if you ever feel like supporting me and my work. Because, I mean, let's be honest, I need the money. It's not directly paying for a service, just donating to motivate me to keep writing! And then I'd just take commissions of whatever fandom I'm in (or damn, maybe you want me to write something original with a concept of yours!). The commissions would be posted anyway in my AO3 account however, they'd be that, commissions for the people who specifically want me to write something they want. I don't have in mind yet how the prices would go, but you would not pay for a genre of fic, but for the amount of words. Like, you pay an amount of money for 5k-10k words and more money if you want something in between 10k-20k (with obviously a range. Dw, I'll think about it) etc, etc, etc.

I am aware of the whole stigma surrounding fanfic writers profiting off their fics, but I am not selling anything, actually. Ko-fi would be for donations to support me and commissions.

Let me know what you think, please, because when I say I get a ton of asks per day I am not joking and I thought "oh, well, if people like my opinion/writing so much they'd be willing to pay a lil bit for new, specific content". That being said, you can send asks like normal and I will always give my opinion on things and even write fanfics if I like it a lot, but if you truly, really want me to write something for you, I could open commissions.

#okay so i was like 'damn tumblr feels like a job sometimes. like an awesome job bc i love it but i'm being so serious i wish i got paid?#and my friend was like 'lmfao just get a kofi idiot'#and here i am asking bc idk if it's a good idea and i honestly don't know if it could work #but idk maybe it does!!!#so just tell me what you think pleasepleaseplease #i'm still amazed some of you like my writing #i mean it's not that i am tumblr famous or anything like that and my fics don't have as much interactions as more famous writers #but you know what i mean maybe there's a random person somewhere that wants me to write something for them #one piece #sanuso #shuggy #zolu #namivivi #because i always use those tags for my writing #damn guess what my fav ships are challenge huh

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thisantithesis · 12 days ago

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klance fic that focuses on the time keith spent on the space whale and the horrors that he went through and then learning how to reintegrate with the team again after being gone for two years when for them it was only a couple months pls save meeeeeee

#for years i’ve thought about an au like this #and i’m sure someone has written one before but i have such a specific image of it in my head and i haven’t found a fic like that yet #like the idea of the time dilation and how much older keith is when he comes back…#the team not knowing how to act around him because he’s so different #would i make up things that happened on the space whale to create angst?? yes ofc i would #i always love putting my favorite characters through the horrors #BUT the idea is something i keep coming back to and im obsessed #lance especially being affected because he’s so used to being on even ground with keith but now keith is older and taller and seems much #more mature than he used to be and keith refuses to talk about what happened during those two years but lance just wants to /know/#anyways i won’t write a whole dissertation in the tags about it but i really need a fic like this #m rambles #klance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #voltron

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frameconfessions · 12 days ago

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I hope the protoframes remain relevant even after this story arc for the Drifter concludes, but I also recognize how complicated things would get with how many characters they could keep trying to make stay relevant, leading to a Konoha 13 Naruto type situation where we have too many relevant characters from Umbra & Ordis all the way to Kaya Velasco.

#warframe confession #warframe #warframe 1999 #guessing you’re the previous anon and so yeah you meant like big picture story then mmm yeah I agree but I also see the counter point too #that you provided because like yeah once you start getting so many relevant characters it can be constricting a bit I would imagine #but I also agree I don’t want the hex syndicate members to be left in their own little time pocket bubble like the holdfasts #I don’t want them to be left behind only ‘relevant’ via optional skins you can farm and/or buy #for those who don’t get it from context the konoha 13 was a bunch of really good naruto characters and they all had interesting kits #and stories but the mangaka struggled to keep making them all stay relevant even though they were in part 1 of the series #it’s a whole thing but basically it’s like stretching yourself thin writing wise with too many main characters #I still wish Excalibur Umbra had more story than just that one quest though ngl #that’s a tricky part of Warframe is I’m always thinking I wish these characters got more screen time & story lore for them #yet I also want there to be consequences to the actions we do or the routes we choose in the KIM system and the quests #I want it to actually affect the narrative in game like with the shadow and light alignment introduced many years back #does drinking the kuva matter or not? does that choice affect anything? I want to know! xD #but I also understand all of these things cost money to make and program and write into an engaging experience and know this is a super #complicated subject that has a lot of nuance of whatever the word is to it #but yeah I too don’t want the protoframes to get left behind by the narrative and I imagine we aren’t the only ones who feel that way #you give us such compelling and interesting characters and then just expect us to move on? that’s not gonna probably go over well even if #the next arc is let’s go to the tau system! like... okay yay I’m hyped but what about Flare Kaya Velemir and the Hex???#if the answer is just ‘oh we’re completely done with them forever like no possible future arcs or story at all’ I’m going to be immensely #and severely disappointed in the lack of creativity that would feel like as an answer #if it really is a ‘yes and’ kind of story model then we shouldn’t write off a back to the future type story with the protos #why do we have to stay confined to the loop? could the operator pull us all out of 1999? who would consent to that and why or why not?#I have a lot of ideas and thoughts about this subject #putting these tags out of order since I know I went over the 20 tag system search results thing with my ramblings about this topic #Like on one hand I get don’t stretch yourself thin with too many main characters but also THIS IS THE MAIN CHARACTER’S FOUND FAMILY #mod rose

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dollsuguru · 2 months ago

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no i’m not normal no i don’t claim to be (^ from my camera roll btw . mental illness or whatever idgaf i will always love bad bitches i will never apologize for that)

#YORU FROM GOKURAKUGAI THEME FOR SUNCHARIOT LET’S GOOOOOO 🗣️#will be re-reading / reading the manga tomorrow <3 i was gonna use another yoru icon but this one now works best in terms of showing up #anyways i’m also REALLY happy w my theme on this blog! i was getting so much grief not being able to find the right Theme but alas :’)#goth!geto you always got me… user momoshouu… you ALWAYS got me.#BUT ON TO SOMETHING ELSE.#y’all… the amount of technical difficulties that tumblr gave me today needs to be studied and LOGGED #NOT SHOWING ME MOOT’S RB OF TAGS ON MY POST. NOT ALLOWING ME TO POST. GIVING ME SPAM NOTIFS. NOT SHOWING COMMENTS.#AND THEN NOT LETTING ME POST??? GLITCHING THE WHOLE DAY??? WHAT THE FUCK #anyways :3 whatever i just had to get that out there . did you know they literally GLITCHED when i first made this post and i lost my tags #it was all so earnest too so now you’re just getting annoyed kairo :3 but we move #it’s just upsetting bc i feel like i rarely see moots on the dash and idk if they see me either </3 hopefully tech difficulties can stop 🫵🏼#BUT ANYWAYS! i think i’m getting into the groove of self-discipline for writing (hopefully)#gonna abide by what i said earlier today and delete those docs and start BRAND NEW FRESH ! 30 day deadline baby #feeling a bit sleepy now though hehe it’s time for honk shoo mimimi time methinks #i hope everyone had a wonderful night and a wonderful morning and a wonderful day #am patting you all on the head even if you don’t see this :3 #because of timezones and how tumblr has it out for me y’all just might not BUT it’s okay it’s the thought that counts :3 #AND I’M EATING CREPES ON MONDAY HELL YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #okie bye love you mwah :3 #personal

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seventh-district · 8 days ago

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#vent post #vent blogging #Seven’s Public Diary #motivating myself to study for my driver’s permit by thinking of the Freedom and independence a license would grant me? ❌ 1/10 ineffective #motivating myself to study for my driver’s permit by imagining all the new & different possible ways i could become injured in a car crash?#✅ 7/10 it just might fucking work!!!#the only true cure for OCD is to face one’s fears. but i just might be able to find a loophole via my ever-worsening mental health #because you don’t have to Face your fears if you don’t Have any fears #and in order to rid myself of my fears regarding harm coming to myself. i simply have to stop fearing being harmed #and what better way to stop fearing it than to actively crave it!#or at the very least become so overwhelmed that i lose the capacity to feel any particular way about it #i’ve found a new OCD cure everybody - Just Stop Caring™️ /sarc #well. sarcastic or joking for everyone else. but im serious when it applies to me #bc so much of my anxiety comes from feeling unsafe. so i just have to reach the point where i stop caring if im safe or not. easy peasy #like yes i know this is flawed and unhealthy logic but i’ve resisted more compulsions via this method lately than i have via anything else #and even outside of OCD stuff even just for all my other anxiety disorders it’s also worked. im actually making a modicum of progress now #need to make a scary phone call? just get into a 3-hour family argument and then you’ll be so upset that you don’t feel fear! :)#genuinely worked very well. scared of a home invasion? well at least it’d mean you’d have some different company for once!#you might make a new friend! or if they **** you at least you’d have some Real trauma for once. it’s a win-win honestly …/hj #so. scared to drive? well even if you Do crash at least it might lead to a hospital visit and then you’ll finally get that attention you-#-want so fucking badly! you’ll finally get a break from everything while you recover. or even if you don’t survive- well. i shan’t say.#anyways. the ‘you’ in those tags is me talking to myself for the record. i wouldn’t speak to anyone else like this. i just speak in the-#-wrong tense/person sometimes. don’t know what’s up with that. just another reason i need to stop speaking altogether. as i’ve learned #i’ve been trying So fucking hard to be nice lately. letting them walk all over me. and it’s still not enough. cause i’m always-#-‘using the wrong tone’ and ‘if all im gonna do is say smthn negative i just shouldn’t speak at all’ ..okay! gladly!!!#sorry for being autistic and unsocialized and under immense stress and being unable to keep my ‘tone’ under control. my bad.#i just need to get blackout drunk with Venti at Angel’s Share. that would fix me.#that or heading down to the bottom of the Fortress of Meropide and curl up like a dog under Wriothesley’s desk. head empty no thoughts #not sexually. just. in a pet-regression sense. i can’t stop thinking abt it. i wanna write a oneshot for it but i can’t focus these days #anyways. the delusional maladaptive daydream dissociation will continue until morale improves. and brother it’s only getting worse.

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maxiwaxipads · 10 months ago

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Romarriche - “Your company is one of a kind… I would never lie to you. I would never say a half-truth or be quiet.” “What is it in your mind, Merold?” “Hearing your voice, complaint or not—it is music to me either way.” Merold - “If there is one constant in this world… Let it be you.” “You’re the cruelest and the kindest thing that happened to me.” “…If only you continued to look at me like that.” Romarriche - “…Merold?” Merold - “But~ It’s only a minor case of bad-mood-itis.” “So Romarriche, spoil me with a spar, will you?” Romarriche - “Merold.” Romarriche - “Look at me.” Merold - “…” Romarriche - “Is something… Wrong?” Merold - “Instead of a spar…” “I might want to lie down on your lap after all.”

#fragaria memories #merold #romarriche #i wont lie i only had the first line and wanted to write something with it #i was reading this novel and i wanted to write something romantic </3 #im gonna babble here on my own so you're always free to skip the tags...#if i remember correctly romarriche and merold were made knights around the same time and I work on that context #i like to think their relationship was rocky at first at romarriche's side who didn't want to befriend merold #compared to merold who thought he finally had a friend his age that was also a knight of fragaria #it was romarriche who looked at merold with a perceived perfection and was compared to him #“...I'll get better and strong. I'll impress everyone so I don't have to hear it--his name repeating over and over again.”#merold who says “if only you continued to look at me like that...” refers back to the past when romarriche didn't think of him favorably #but i like the double meaning to it “please look me as you did before and look at me as you do now”#“cruelest” and “kindest” i was a reading a novel that also used those words so I kinda grabbed from that </3 #its really a cute novel though #me reading fragaria memories theories to see if it can at least make sense #i like this but i dont like this at the same time wwww #what does it say about its characters? as a writer i want to care about that because no dialogue should be said without reason #i think this dialogue is perfection but what am i writing this for? who does it refer it? what does it refer to?#but at the end of the day i simply want to indulge myself #something that could sound good and personal and something that could make people who read this smile and myself smile #Merold - “Will you make the promise to never change?”#Romarriche - “Change... But change in what way?”#Merold - “...”#Merold - “Because I'm a knight who fears a lot of things...”#Merold - “And I care about the Romarriche I have now.”#it was never supposed to be detailed but look at me now... </3

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unriding · 2 months ago

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ok i got really distracted but im back now

my writing feels a little rusty but we’re gonna ignore that. and the lack of editing. fuck it we ball

so like. moze is a very poorly socialized crow, right. but he trusts feixiao and jiaoqiu. you know what this makes perfect space for?

ultimate wingmen feixiao and jiaoqiu.

feixiao enjoys your company- she thinks you’re a very excited and endearing little thing. this isn’t your first meeting of course; you’ve met a few times before, just enough for jiaoqiu to notice the way mozes eyes linger on you. so feixiao is chatting with you, asking for details about what you like, telling you stories about being the general on the yaoqing, while moze and jiaoqiu observe from a short distance.

“i still don’t understand why you insist on staying here with me,” says moze in his usual flat tone.

jiaoqiu knows what he means, but chooses to tease him anyway, “what, i can’t keep my dear friend company?”

“aren’t you friends with her too?”

jiaoqiu smiles, “evie? yes, i think she’s friends with everyone she meets. she’s so sweet, i think she could even break through that icy exterior of yours,” the foxian tries to knock on the shadow guards chest for emphasis, but is firmly blocked by his hand.

“i disagree.”

jiaoqiu lets the comment slide as they continue to watch you and the general chat. he knows better, after all. moze typically needs time and exposure to acclimate to new people, but jiaoqiu is a very good doctor. though he’s no psychologist, he knows sometimes all a patient needs is a good push.

“you know, i think she had to be a foxian in her last life.”

moze raises an eyebrow at his friend.

“just look at her! if she had a tail, it’d be wagging nonstop.”

moze says nothing, but jiaoqiu has known moze long enough to know when he’s thinking hard about something.

and thinking hard moze is.

the next time you come up to the general or jiaoqiu to chat, mozes eyes are glued to you, picturing a dark, fluffy tail swishing back and forth with excitement. it’d make the ruffles in your skirts flutter too, he thinks. it could maybe even make the fabric ride up a little in the back-

he finds these thoughts haunting him constantly.

to be beside you and feel soft fur brush against his legs. to be behind you and catch peeks of your upper thighs- he wonders if you wear safety shorts. he wonders if you don’t.

such reprehensible behavior. you would be disgusted if you could read his mind. he can’t get himself to stop- maybe he doesn’t want to. he expects he’ll have to take these fantasies to his grave regardless.

what he doesn’t expect is more. more conversations, more texts, more time, more evie. and he finds himself with so much more evie that these fantasies to become more, too.

if you had a tail, what would make it wag the most? what would make it thump against him with indignation? what would make it puff up in surprise? if he touched you like this, would it thrash around behind you, out of control? how sensitive would it be compared to the rest of you? if he bent you over, would you let him use it to manhandle you on and off his cock while he fucks you relentlessly? would you wrap it around his wrist and cry for him to slow down, to beg him for mercy? would it tighten around him when he denies you, forcing you into orgasm after orgasm, because he knows just how his sweet girl likes it? how would you react if he-

“hello? evie to moze? anyone in there?”

moze is startled out of his thoughts as he feels you tug gently on his sleeve.

“are you okay? i’ve never seen you space out like that before,” you raise a hand slowly to gently feel against his forehead as if checking for a fever.

no. no, he is not okay. it took everything in him not to flinch at your touch because the contact made him realize how excruciatingly hard he is under the table the two of you are sat at. aeons, if the two of you were more secluded he’s not sure he’d be able to keep himself from pushing you halfway up the table and flipping your skirt up to-

“moze? your face is all red and you spaced out again. are you coming down with something? should i call jiaoqiu-?”

“no,” moze swallows thickly, “no, you don’t need to call jiaoqiu. i’m afraid i must take me leave now. i apologize for my abruptness.”

“it’s ok-” but moze is already gone, disappearing into a puff of shadow and crow feathers that flutter into nothingness once they hit the ground, “-oh.”

“did our dear crow fly off from you?” jiaoqiu appears out of nowhere, two boba drinks in hand. his smile cools the flare of disappointment at moze’s sudden retreat.

“uh- yeah, he did. he didn’t look great. i was just about to text you, actually,” you almost cringe at the way the feelings creep into your voice.

“well, i was on my way to bring the general a midday treat, but i suppose this justifies a sudden change in plans.”

“oh, i wouldn’t want to-”

“too late!” jiaoqiu is already seated, placing one drink- conveniently your current favorite- in front of you and shooting off a text to the general, “now, why don’t you tell me how your days been? i can probably think of some embarrassing stories about moze to get him back for leaving so suddenly.”

in his pocket, jiaoqiu’s phone buzzes.

feixiao: this has to be some form of mental harassment…i can’t believe you paid some random girl to walk in his line of sight and swish her tail to see what would happen! incredible work, jiaoqiu. i’ll start brainstorming our next move.

moze: i think i’m dying.

#moevie.#— ⚘( ၴႅၴ lauren!#ultimate wingmen feixiao and jiaoqiu … LAUREN !! i had received your ask as i was still half asleep and genuinely thought there was some hs #theory you were wanting to talk about — NOT !!!! THIS !!! /pos NOT !!!!! MEEEE LOSING MY MIND !!!!!!! I SCANNED THROUGH THIS TO CONFIRM AND #SAW MY NAME AND MY HEART STARTED RACING AAAEEJMSDMKC YOU DID NOT !!!!!! OBLIVIOUS CRUSHING MY MOST BELOVED EVER ))): LAUREN !!!! THANK YOU #SO MUCH !!! omg i hope you don’t mind if i live tag this because sisndkdkk !! talking to feixiao ?! AND SHE THINKS IM ENDEARING ?? I WOULD #GET SO FLUSTERED SHE IS SOOO AWESOME … oh my goodness i don’t want to think about moze even looking my way /pos OR HIM LOOKING ENOUGH FOR #JIAOQIU TO NOTICE …… x0x ‘aren’t you friends with her too?’ MADE ME SO RED IN THE FACE I CANT EXPLAIN WHY BUT LIKE HIM TALKING ABOUT ME ? I #THINK LIKE . TO BE PERCEIVED … IS MAKING ME SO WOBBLY AND RED ISNSNDOXOX i too want to knock on mr moze’s chest T_T #WHHHHAAATSTS THIS IS SOME DEVIOUS PLANNING FROM JIAOQIU AND FEIXIAO ….. THE RUFFLES IN THE SKIRT FLUTTERING ?? FABRIC RIDE UP — ?? LAUUUUREN #SAFETY SHORTS WIENDKCKSNSKSKDKXKKX I WILL LOSE MY LAST LITTLE BIT OF SANITY AT UOU WRITING DOWN HIS EVERY THOUGHT i am bright red in the #face DISGUSTED ? ME ? RED YES !!! DISGUSTED NEVER !!! intrigued 👁️ <- understatement — is pacing her room as she reads this /POS !!!!!#the … yhe more time together ……… lauren you are dangerous /POS i am literally hiding beneath my bedding reading this isnekkxkc and stopping #every sentence to run back here and hide — i mean add tags ^^; THE DIFFERENT WAYS THE TAIL COULD CONVEY EMOTIONS AND WDYM . WDYM IS IT MORE #SENSITIVE . IF HE … IF HE …………… WOULD I LET HIM USE IT TO …… MANHANDLE ……… LAUREN ?/?:!$:&#WRAPPING OIF AROUND HIS WRIST AND AND AND AND AND 🫨😧😵😵😵😵😵😵😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵😵😵 OH MY GOSHHHHHHSHHEHEHDJXJXJJDJDJJXJXJJJEJDJDJJX #‘no no he is not okay’ I AM NOT OKAY EITHER LAYREN ?????????????? WHEN YOU …… WHEN YOU SAID ALL THOSE THINGS /POS …….. THE COMTACT MAKING #HIM REALIZE HE IS HARD 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 AND HIS OUTFIT IS ALREADY SO TIGHT — i am going to pass out #iiaoqiu 🥹🥹🥹🥹 i need to be isolated and away from the crow 🥹 <- risk overheating … OH MY GODDDDD LAUREN JSNENDJJDJDJ I CANNOT BELIVE EYOU /PO #/POS YOU !!!!!!! YOU WROTE THIIISJSJSNKSNSJDJXJEJ AND IT IS SO ….. SO SPOT ON TO HOW I WANT OUR FYANMIC TO BE ….. I LOVE YOU SO MYCH )))))):#THANK YOU FOR DOING TJIS FOR ME ?!????????? ))): CAN I PUT IT IN MY MOEVIE MASTERLIST SIENDNXK THIS IS SOOOOOOOOO #I WANT TO REread it AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAUN #TYSM ))))): I HOPE UR PILLOWS ARE ALWAYS COLD AND YOUR SOCKS NEVER GET UNCOMFORTABLY WET AND ALL YOUR DAYS ARE AMAXUNG )):

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