#because i crave feedback from better writers

[toki-hotel]

2008 Bill Kaulitz Relationship Headcannons

AN: I’m a new writer but requests and feedback is definitely welcome :)

Warnings: smut 18+, mentions of reader wearing makeup

SFW

He is actually very shy. It will take him a while to come out of his shell. This can be seen when he starts to tease you directly, making jokes that are personal to you,  like he does with his band mates and brother. Will call you out on your bad habits or embarrassing moments. But he laughs with you not at you...for the most part.

Bill loves junk food. He will whine about how he’s hungry and craves something. Won’t stop pouting until he gets it. This means random trips to the nearest gas station or grocery store. Will beg the tour managers to make a pit stop at fast food places on the way to the next venue or interview.

His feelings for you develop gradually, he needs to form a connection with someone before considering the relationship. In his friendship with you, these small feelings made him anxious because he doesn’t know how to deal with them. Over time they grow stronger and he can’t hide it anymore. He has serious heart eyes for you, and its obvious to everybody.

If you’re a playful person than you guys will get into so much trouble. Playing pranks on other band members. You’re always trying to scare George but it’s IMPOSSIBLE. Bill comes up with plans where one of you guys hides and the other tries to distract him, you’ll jump out and scream but George is just like...what are you doing? He will roll is eyes at you and leave the room.

If you’re more chill then this man decides YOU are his target. He will tease you with Gustav at his side the entire time. Throws wads of paper at you until you snap. Will try to sit on your lap whenever you’re not paying attention to him. He loves to get reactions out of you. His favourite is when you give in and pretend to be mad at him. chase him around and pretend to hit him or tickle him. Bill will literally giggle like a child and have the biggest grin on his face.

He likes to be tall. If you’re short then he will definitely mock you. Holds stuff above your head and laughs while you jump. Bill is 6′4 so idk if any of the readers would be that height, but if you are as tall or are wearing heels he is not happy about it lol. He will literally go and change his shoes so that he can be taller.

NSFW

Now because he has to form a connection to someone before progressing into a relationship, he isn’t the most experienced. Bill is a little bit shy about it and will cover it up with dirty jokes. He’s definitely made out with others though, lets not forget how many fans he has, so he is a great kisser.

He loves kissing! Making out with you is his favourite thing ever and the messier the better. His tongue piercing is so fun to him, he loves to tease you with it by running it up your neck. 

He loves it when your lipstick smears all over him. Bill wants you guys to look like a mess by the end of it. This means messy hair and makeup smeared everywhere, mascara running down your guys’ faces.

He’s sub leaning. THERE I SAID IT. Have you guys seen the chokers he wears? Going back to the teasing you part, he also loves to do it in bed. Will give you little touches here and there, or give you the look. You can recognize it from a mile away. Plays with his tongue ring, or sticks his tongue out at you. He will push you until he gets a reaction, again it’s his favourite.

Once you’re alone and call him out on it, he pulls the innocent act. Tell him the punishment you plan for him and he switches up so quick. Bill’s cat eyes shift to puppy dog ones. Sounds so sweet when he says ‘please’. Will get on his knees and cling to your waist. He just wanted you so bad he ‘couldn’t help himself’.

Edging him is the best and worst punishment for him. He’s happy to have your attention, but he can also be very greedy, he just wants to have you so bad. He will bring himself to tears so quickly, but its okay because he’s pretty when he cries and he loves how he feels after. Its cathartic. The release of pent up energy makes him feel so much better.

AN: Plz request stuff! I’ll write for other band members and modern versions too.

[swallowedbymadness]

♡ a melancholy melody ♡ 

Pairing: pianist!hongjoong x writer!fem!reader

Genre: Period piece drama/romance/aka my ultimate fantasy

Summary: As a writer, love was something you naturally longed for but thought it to be unattainable. However, when a mysterious piano player comes to town one summer, you find yourself falling into a fairytale of your own.

Word Count: 10.2k (oops)

A/N: hello again, my darlings! I come bearing another romantic Hongjoong gift. I’m currently in the middle of writing another member, but this came to me like a vision in the night. I simply could not ignore it. 🥲 aka I watched a period piece drama and needed to write aristocratic Kim Hongjoong asap. 🫠 Please I encourage leaving some feedback for me. I would love to hear your thoughts, emotions, or anything really! 🤍 18+ content, so please, minors DNI. Enjoy!🥂

Warnings: ye olden times talk (lol), romantic fluff and sweet love makin’, pet names, sensory deprivation (blind fold & fabric restraints used on reader), unprotected sex, oral (f/r), if I missed any pls let me know. 🩷

Proofread: Of course! But, you know the drill. If you see a mistake, no you don’t. 💌

You found yourself at yet another party for people you really did not care to socialize with. But of course, you could not deny your dear friend the company she begged for from you. You would much rather be at home immersed in the newly acquired novel you picked up from the bookstore the other day, upset that you were almost finished with it already. 

     You lived in a small town in the countryside, so it was always the same guests with nothing special to celebrate. Usually parties consisted of single wealthy men in search of a bride, so her father was always happy to oblige in their search by throwing these lavish evenings in their ballroom. You weren’t sure why you still attended, seeing as you did not care for any of the men that made the guest list. Maybe it was the consistent nagging of your childhood friend or your parents giving you a hard time for still being unwed at your age. Either way, it felt more like an obligation to throw your best dress on for another night of mingling with socialites. But then again, this was better than sitting at home with writer’s block. You were trying to write a fairytale of your own, but life was just so dull and uninspiring. Artists needed a muse, and you simply didn’t have one. You longed to experience romance as you did in the books you read time and time again, but alas, the same boring people did not tick all your boxes to deem worthy enough for the romance you daydreamed about.

This predicament always arose when you found yourself at these parties. Every man who you became acquainted with stayed just that — an acquaintance. Half of you wished your standards would be lower so you could finally marry and have children, but you knew in your heart that that was far from what you craved. You wanted passion, risqué rendezvous at midnight, adventure, and all the in between that the novels you spent so much time reading described, but mainly you wanted something worth writing about. Maybe then you could finish the godforsaken book you’ve been trying to write for months now. 

     You were trying to pay attention to a current conversation you were having with a military official who was boasting about his assets when your eyes drifted elsewhere, his bragging tone of no interest to you. You dreamed about being whisked away by a magical force to a far away land where the flowers sang along with the breeze and the rays from the sun danced on your skin. It was so sudden, but when your gaze was shifting back on the man in front of you, they caught a pair of chestnut eyes burning into you.       

     You looked around, not sure if they were truly set on you or not, but to your surprise, there was no one else around they could be looking at. You held the stare, your interest piquing immensely. It was like a string was tied to you because you felt a tug from behind your ribs when his gaze didn’t falter. 

     “Are you alright, Miss?” The man in front of you brought your attention back to him, breaking you from your hazy dream. 

     “Ah, yes I uh, I just need some air.” You excused yourself from the ballroom and into the garden. You took a seat on one of the benches near a rose bush, the red and pink petals shining under the night sky, the sweet scent filling the air around you. It wasn’t long before you heard a soft melody erupting from the piano that sat in the ballroom. You got up and roamed back inside to see what the commotion was all about. You lingered in the corner off to the side, watching as everyone danced and laughed while others drank and talked with voices too loud. You noticed a group of women gathered around the piano, giggles and awestruck smiles adorning their faces. As you got a bit closer, you could finally see what they were fawning over.

Sitting at the piano was a man with tousled hair the color of coffee, his sharp features focused on his slender fingers as they skillfully danced elegantly across the keys. Your breath hitched in your throat when his fingers stilled and the music stopped, silence filling the room before thunderous applause took over the atmosphere. He looked up, and you swore time itself froze.

     Your eyes locked with chestnut once again, and suddenly the newly familiar tug in your chest returned, leaving you breathless.

—

     “Back so soon are we?” The bookstore owner teased, smiling when seeing your embarrassment displayed on your cheeks. 

     “The last story was so captivating. A boy who never grew up, a magical fairy and pirates? It was an adventure I couldn’t seem to put down.” 

     “Well, maybe you’ll find something that lasts you a bit longer than the previous tale.” He smiled, the wrinkles etched into his aged face a comforting sight for you. You placed the small green leather bound book on the counter and began your search for a new fairytale to be entranced by. Your fingers grazed the books on the shelf lightly as you walked down the ilse, reading the titles, waiting for something to cause that initial spark that made you giddy. You stopped over a blue book with silver color bindings, your finger buzzing as it hovered over the spine. You pulled it out and opened it to sample a page. As you felt your mind begin to wander off into the fictional world you were ready to dive into, you didn’t notice the creak of the front door open and the owner greet the new customer that waltzed in shortly after you.

     “Ah, Mr. Kim, it’s an honor. And what brings you into my shop?”

     “I’m just looking for a light read to fill the hot days with. Any recommendations?” The man asked, and the owner hummed in response, pondering over the options.

     “Well, the fantasy section might pique your interest. A good love story is perfect for the longer days of summer. It might even inspire you,” The hinting smile in his tone was obvious, but went unnoticed. The man chuckled at the old man’s words before headed towards the shelves with the recommended genre.

    “I’ll have a look then, thank you.” He said with a smile. You we’re so enraptured with the words on the worn pages that you didn’t realize the presence that lingered just behind you. 

     “Good day, Miss,” A tenor voice from behind you brought you back to the present and away from the book in your hands. You turned around and the tug instantly returned as your eyes met with chestnut once again. 

     “Oh,” you stuttered, unable to form a coherent thought with the pianist from the other night, but now he was standing before you. “Good day, sir.” 

     “It is a good day indeed, now that my eyes have stumbled upon you again.” You felt your cheeks heat up from the sudden flirtatious advances. “I believe it is fate that brought us here to find each other again, don’t you?” The corners of his mouth turned upwards into an honest grin. 

     “Hm,” you contemplated playfully, noticing how his gaze never faltered from your face. “Fate indeed that the stars wanted our paths to cross once again.” 

     “Maybe this time I will be allowed more than a few stolen glances. Perhaps I’ll have the pleasure of knowing your name?” You clutch the novel in your hand a bit tighter, letting your name slip from your mouth carefully. You saw a small flicker of something you couldn’t quite figure out in his expression, a firm smile and kind eyes still exposed to you.

     “It’s a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance.” He bowed, extending his hand out in front of you, waiting for your hand to be placed into his. Once obliging, your palms met and his rosy lips brushed lightly over the top of your hand, lingering over the warm flesh for more than what was deemed appropriate. 

 “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Kim.” You hated how your heart fluttered slightly at the delicate touch. His eyebrow shot up in surprise without his cool exterior faltering as his name fell from your mouth so easily. He wondered how you’d known. Perhaps you overheard his previous conversation with the owner. 

     “Please, call me Hongjoong. No need for formalities.” 

     “Very well then. And what brings you here, Hongjoong?” You looked back over to the shelf, pretending to nonchalantly browse the titles under your fingertips.

     “Well, I play the piano, and very much enjoy writing symphonies. However, I am spending the summer away from the city to clear my head a bit. ”

     “Well, Mr. Kim. You’re quite the talk of the town as of late, and I hear that you’re currently the most eligible bachelor.” You recall from all the gossip from around town that you had not stopped hearing about since the party. You learned that he had just arrived that morning and was quickly invited to play that evening. 

     “Is that so?” He took a step closer to you, and you felt yourself subconsciously step a fraction back, not realizing the bookcase was so close behind you. “And what do they have to say?” He was baiting you, and you knew it. Kim Hongjoong was said to be one of those men who frequented the city brothels only men of his status could afford, or he would find his way into the beds of aristocratic women that you absolutely could and would never associate yourself with. Part of you didn’t want to believe the rumors, but the way his eyes trailed your body left you unsure.

  “Not much really, just how handsome you are, and how the way you play piano is a form of art all on its own.” He straightened his stance at that, a proud grin appearing across his features. But you noticed that it still seemed lacking, like the current compliment of the whole entirety of the town wasn’t enough for him or his ego. 

     “And what do you say?” His brow perked up inquisitively, eagerly awaiting another form of praise to drop from your lips. You lightly scoffed under your breath, just enough for him to hear it.

     “I have nothing to say about you.” You simply stated matter of factly. His smile didn't fade like you’d expected it to. Instead, it only grew, like you were challenging a lion waiting to pounce. 

     “I see,” he hummed in response. His eyes trailed down your body, fixating on your hands that were now crossed in front of you, your fingers slightly white at how tight your grip had gotten on the borrowed book.  “I see no husband accompanies you, and no band adorns your left finger. Why is a woman who possesses such beauty as yourself not wed yet?”

     “Because, I have yet to find a man who has any interest in what I love most.” 

     “And what would that be?” You adjusted your stance in hopes this conversation would end soon, his gaze suddenly feeling patronizing. You tapped your fingers against the book in your hands and nodded knowingly. “Books, I presume?”

     “Not just books, Mr. Kim, but the stories that lie within the pages. Fantasy, adventure, romance…it’s all so fascinating to me. It’s hard not to get lost in another world. Naturally, this is something I tend to fall victim to as I am a writer myself.”

     “Well, I see nothing wrong with that,” he claimed, his confidence filling the air around you both. “You’re a well educated woman. Any man would aspire to have a wife with that quality.” 

     “I dream in rose color, Mr. Kim, and I’m afraid no man takes a woman like me seriously.” He clicked his tongue, looking around the room before leaning forward to hover his lips just above your ear.

     “Not all men can handle a woman like you then, now can they.” He spoke low, his chest vibrating as his words rang in your ear and sent shivers down your spine, his breath hot against your skin. The breath you were holding in your lungs suddenly was lost as you inhaled, your senses being overwhelmed by citrus and bergamot. 

     “I-” you felt yourself stumble back and lose your footing, a quiet yelp escaping you. You prepared to tumble back into the shelf behind you when you felt his hand grasp the small of your back and pull you close to his chest. Instead, you found yourself crashing into the pianist, and the two of you hit the ground unceremoniously. You looked down into chestnut and swore you saw the sun when a toothy grin appeared across his face, followed by a hearty laugh. You sprung up after what felt like ages, not sure how long you lingered in his space with curious eyes trying to read him like one of your beloved novels. Once the both of you stood back up, the air turning awkward between you two, he picked the little blue book up from the floor that you hadn’t realized you’d dropped, and held it out to you.

     “Careful, people may think you’re falling for me already.” You felt your features twist into a mildly disgusted expression before a very audible scoff left your lips.

      “You’re…insufferable!” You pushed past him, not wanting to admit the way your heart twisted when you heard his chuckle from behind you.          

     “Good day, Mr. Kim.”

     “I’m sure we’ll see one another again soon.” He winked, but you pretended that you didn’t see it to avoid your face from flushing more than it already was.

—

     The days of summer were passing by in a blur, and you grew more frustrated that you couldn’t write a single thing without feeling mediocre, resulting in you crumpling the paper up and tossing it onto the floor. Inspiration still remained hidden from you, like a treasure you had to hunt down. Your days weren’t always bothersome though, seeing as you started seeing a certain pianist in the bookstore more frequently. You often found Hongjoong at the bookstore whenever you returned for another new read, but as the warm days came and went, you noticed he would sometimes be in the fantasy section browsing the books as if waiting for you to show up. Or, other days, he would be in the back at a little table with his brows furrowed and a pen in his hand as he scribbled treble clefs and b sharps to add to his stack of sheet music.

     You tried your best to stay away, you really did. Not wanting to be the next name in everyone’s mouth, but something wouldn’t allow you to keep your distance for long. It was when he was absolutely enthralled by his work one afternoon that you felt the tug again, the invisible string pulling you towards his hunched over figure. As you approached, you cleared your throat to make your presence known.

     “Ah, what a pleasant surprise to see you again!” He looked up momentarily from his jumble of ink stained papers, his hair a tousled mess and plum crescents circled underneath his puffy eyes. 

     “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” 

     “Trust me, I tried.”

     “But?” A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes sparkling like diamonds.

     “Well…you frequent the one shop in town that I do, so it’s unavoidable, I suppose.” Your excuse did not fool him, but he did not say anything about it.

     “I see…” he looked around the mess in front of him and stood up swiftly from the wooden chair, creaking slightly as it slid across the floor under his weight. “Would you like to go on a walk with me?” He blurted, as if the idea just came to him at that very moment. Stunned, you looked out the small window at the front of the shop and then back at him

     “Hongjoong, it’s nearly sundown.” 

     “Perfect,” he gathered the papers and shoved them under one arm, offering the other for you to grab onto. “I’ve been wanting to show you something.”

     You two walked not too far, the conversation light and easy as you strolled on his arm through town. Once you reached the edge, cobblestone soon turning to dirt and grass, you noticed a stone path leading up the hill and through a clearing of willow trees. You recall staring up at the aged trees as a little girl, always wondering what magic lied behind the swinging branches. You stopped at the first stone, your grip on his arm loosening as you allowed your arm to unhook from his.

     “What is it?” He turned around with a quizzical expression on his face at the loss of your touch. His eyes met yours, concern filling his dark irises as he looked into your own. 

     “Nothing, it’s just I…” you trailed off, unsure if it was appropriate to engage in such private conversation with a man you hardly knew. 

But that’s the thing. You simultaneously felt like you’d known him for lifetimes prior to this one, and it made your skin buzz at the possibility. The very thought confused you, yet you felt excitement lingering in your bones every time he laid eyes on you and the tug pulled you to him.

     “C’mon,” he held his hand out to you, his palm inviting yours to rest in his. “Do you trust me?” You weren’t sure what exactly possessed you to place your hand in his and slowly nod as a silent confirmation that yes, you did trust him. Why? You were unsure. But something inside you told you that you were supposed to go up that hill and beyond those trees that evening. So, you allowed him to pull you along behind him as you made your way up, up, up until you reached the very top.

     You felt the air get knocked from your lungs when your eyes set upon what was in front of you. A beautiful garden that lit up with fireflies, sprites dancing around the leaves of the trees as the warm evening breeze allowed the flowers to sway in time with the music of nature. 

     “Hongjoong, what…is this place?” 

     “Do you like it?” He peered over at you, the warm glow from the candles burning in their lanterns above casting the most radiate light onto your skin, your lips parting in fascination as you watched his garden come to life as the moon and her stars filled the night sky above. 

     This, he decided, was the purest form of beauty he’s ever seen — You adorning the moon’s elegant light upon you. He did not dare admit that he thought your beauty almost outshined mother moon’s in that moment.  

     “Like it? I’m captivated by it.” You couldn’t find the words, too awestruck by nature’s true beauty as it flourished and came to life in the beginning of the night.     

     “This is my home away from home,” he chuckled at the disbelief that had made its way onto your face. “I grew up here.” You looked just past the garden to see a large house with more windows than you’d ever seen, greenery overtaking the brick walls. You noticed that there was a metal staircase that spiraled up to meet a balcony, a beautiful stained glass window with florals depicted in the vivid colors.  “Would you like to take a look around?” He tugged you along, excitement flooding your veins as you walked through the various plant life, the different scents filling your senses. From roses to peonies, marigolds and tulips. They mingled together to create this Heaven on earth as magic hung in the air around you.

     You took note of the fountain in the middle, frogs ribbiting and grasshoppers chirping as the night came to life around you as you ascended up the aged metal staircase. Once utop the balcony, you ran over to the edge of the thick railing, crashing into it as you took in the whole garden from above. The wind blew your hair around your face, and Hongjoong swore his heart stopped beating in that very moment.

     “It’s like a fairytale.” You whispered more to yourself, but Hongjoong caught every word of it as he leaned against the half wall with you. “Oh Hongjoong,” you sighed dreamily, your chin falling into your palm as you rested your elbow on the marble below it. “Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” He felt the corners of his mouth turn upward slightly, his eyes falling onto your lips, his hand clenched into a fist as he fought back the urge to press his body against yours and kiss you with everything he had. Instead, he chuckled under his breath, his eyes never leaving your face.

     “Yes, indeed it is.” 

— 

     When the middle of summer hit, you did not ever dream of feeling this alive. Hongjoong had let you into a secret garden that opened your eyes to a world beyond the books you found yourself lost in. That alone made your heart soar, and you felt your heart flutter every time you were around him. 

     Small, innocent brushes of his hand against yours as you made small talk about anything and everything, feeling completely comfortable in one another’s presence once you started spending more and more time with one another.    You hadn’t experienced this feeling before, but it felt like what every book you had read had described this feeling to be…but you were hesitant at first. 

     It wasn’t until you found yourself under the August full moon in his garden, your heart trembling as the energy in the air shifted that night. Something had changed, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly. As you popped various fruits into your mouth and drank the fizzy liquor he had brought out from the house onto the balcony to make “the perfect midnight picnic” he had claimed, you couldn’t help notice the way his eyes lingered on you for longer than usual. You saw his hands tremble ever so lightly and his features displaying a softer side to him instead of his usual charming facade. Your body was slouching back against the metal as you gazed lazily up at the twinkling stars that littered the sky, feeling completely at peace as you usually did in his presence. You heard him say your name under his breath, pulling you from whatever fantasy you’d made up in your head that evening, to see him standing inches from you. You’d noticed he had trapped your figure between his arms as he pinned you against the railing, his breath warm on your face as he inched closer, sending your heart flying manically within your rib cage.

     “I-I think I’m falling in love with you…” he stuttered nervously, bluntly, shamelessly. His eyes darkened and were full of something you couldn’t understand. You felt your breath hitch, your mind fogging over in a lavender haze as you tried to dissect his words.

     ‘I’m falling in love with you.’ His words rang in your ears, your chest swelling uncomfortably as you responded with no thought behind your response, but more so you just allowed your intuition to guide you through the dangerous storm that was your heart, your feelings for Hongjoong that you had suppressed and refused to acknowledge because he was a player. How many other women did he confess to just to get them into bed with him? For so long, you refused to be labeled as one of them. But now, you couldn’t, wouldn’t, deny yourself and your emotions any longer. You didn’t care about the rumors, you didn’t care about his reputation. You only cared about acting on your feelings that had recently began to surface. 

     “Kiss me.” You requested softly. You half expected his ego to ruin the moment you reciprocated his advance, but you were surprised when his playboy exterior had not returned. Instead, if it was even possible, his eyes shined brighter than the stars above you two as an innocent smile painted itself across his face as his hands came up to cup your face sweetly. You could feel the beat of his erratic heart through his fingertips as he closed the gap between you two. 

     His lips on yours was absolutely electrifying, like bolts of lightning shooting through your veins and you could have sworn you heard the sky unleash a crack of thunder as the rain began to pour down onto you both. You didn’t care, even your mouths refused to seize their movements against each other as your tongues crossed one another in the most heated kiss you’d ever experienced. Both his hands clutched your face a bit tighter, pulling you deeper into him, sucking your bottom lip in between his own pair and making you dizzy.

     He started backing up, taking you with him through the French doors inally and led you to the fluffy bed. He backed up into the mattress and collapsed against the warm fabric with you on top of him. You stayed like that, lips never leaving one another for hours, lazy kisses and fingertips exploring every inch of your wet skin until your lips were too swollen, and the clothing was too much to keep against your skin.      

     You swallowed the foreign feeling of surrender as you allowed your heart to experience the pleasure your body was. You instead focused on the way his calloused hands worked at the soaked fabric of your dress, the material slipping from your figure and to the floor, leaving you in your slip that stuck sinfully to you, leaving nothing to the imagination as the cotton fabric exposed you as if you were bare. He removed that as well in time, his jaw going slightly slack and his eyes becoming hooded once he had you naked before him. He did not dare rush, but simply wanted, needed, to take his time with you, savoring every little detail of your curves, your dips, and your edges. He felt the dam holding in his overwhelming emotions break, once your eyes locked again and he saw your smile.      

He knew in that moment that he was in love with everything  that was simply you.

     You woke up later that night, feeling absolutely blissful after recalling how his body felt against yours for the first time, memorizing the sounds he made as he burrowed himself deep in between your legs. You felt a blush dust across your cheeks as the memories played out like a play. 

     You were soon drawn from your visions when you felt nothing next to you in the bed, the sheets abandoned long ago. You looked over across the room frantically, only to find him hunched over at a table, a lantern illuminating the concentration on his face as he scribbled onto tea stained paper. You watched him for a while, but it wasn’t long before he felt your eyes on him, causing him to return your gaze. He smiled tiredly, standing from the table and making his way over to you, a thin robe exposing his chest as he strode over. 

     “Did I wake you?”

     “Not at all, I was just upset that the bed was cold.” He chuckled, his breathy laugh sending a soothing emotion through you. 

     “I’m sorry, I just needed to get this song out of my head…would you like to hear it?” You nodded, eyes lighting up at the thought of him playing for you. “Very well then,” he grabbed the sheet music and placed it at the grand piano just next to him, the chair squeaking under his weight as he sat down. He cracked his knuckles, shaking his hands out to loosen himself up before inhaling deeply and looking over the paper one last time before he began to play.

The room suddenly filled with so much emotion, it was nearly suffocating. Your eyes watched how his fingers strategically danced across the keys, the motions seeming so effortless as he swayed back and forth in time with each key being pressed. The melancholy melody painted the room various shades of blue and gray, the music reminding you of the midnight sky and the feeling it evoked when you longingly looked up at the stars and wished for your heart’s deepest desire. It was the sound of how it felt to talk to the moon when you prayed for your wish to come true. It was indescribable with words, but Hongjoong was able to convey every emotion lingering in the air with his fingertips. 

     When he stopped playing, you came back down from the cloud you’d perched yourself on top of as you lost yourself to the lullaby he had created, and you felt tears burning your eyes. 

     “That was lovely. You play beautifully.” You commented, voice barely there as you allowed your eyes to speak for you when words had failed you. 

     “Thank you,” he gathered the pages back up neatly, placing them back on the holder before reaching for the glass with a swig of amber colored liquor left in it that sat on the table. “It’s meant to portray longing. It’s an insatiable feeling that gets deeply rooted into your soul if you’re not careful. Even if you grab hold of something so tightly and never want to let go, sometimes you feel that sense of greed that you need more, even if you have the whole world at your fingertips.” You hummed in response, feeling the ache in your chest burn as you dared ask your next question. 

     “What was your inspiration?” His eyes finally settled on yours, a sad smile making its way onto his lips before he sighed.

     “You.” 

—

     As the sun began to burst into bright hues of oranges and reds, painting the sky as it set for the day, you unlocked the gate that led into Hongjoong’s garden, the sprites welcoming you back once again to the fairytale you longed to escape into. As you approached the spiral stairs that took you to a land that seemed far far away from reality, there he was, the handsome prince of your summer romance, waiting for you at the top. 

He was bent over the railing, a bottle of fizzy liquor half empty dangling from between his fingertips as his eyes searched the sky for something he would never say out loud. A miracle maybe, that someone would someday come sweep him away from the tower he deemed himself trapped in.  

     “That’s very Romeo and Juliet of you,” you laughed from the bottom of the steps, taking one of the leaves of ivy that wrapped around the railing in your finger, the leaf turning a bright green in the sun’s evening glow. You saw him shake himself from his daydream and look down upon you. He let out a breathy laugh as his eyes focused onto you and how your aura was a bright gold at this hour. Maybe this was his golden hour, you standing in his blooming garden, the butterflies and fairies dancing around you as you looked up at him like he was some kind of god that you worshiped. He pondered on the thought.

     “I suppose, but why do I have to be Juliet? I’m not a damsel in distress.” You giggled under your breath as you began walking up the steps.

     “Are you sure about that?” He rolled his eyes, taking a swig from the crystal bottle before extending his arm out as he waited for you to reach the top. “It’s okay, I’ll rescue you. Just don’t drink any poison before I arrive.” You reached for the bottle he gripped tightly onto but willingly gave over to you. He smiled, a kind of stoic look appearing on his face. 

     “I can’t make any promises,” he sheepishly grinned as his eyes diverted down to the bottle in his hand. Your heart trembled at the way his words rang with a hint of truth and a cry for help with how his eyes flickered with a hint of sadness, but that was something you would address another day perhaps. 

     He held the door open for you to enter, the last beams of the sun’s light shining through the stained glass and creating a rainbow of color on the walls. 

     “I’m only kidding, you know.” he made sure to assure you, you not noticing that he could see the sudden panic in your eyes as you approached him. He walked past you and collapsed onto the bed, a weight filling the air that suddenly caused you to follow suit. You crawled on top of the duvet next to him, waiting for him to open the door to his secret wonderland once more. His head hit the pillow, eyes looking up at the ceiling, hands laying flat on his chest. “I just…” he sighed, trying to find the words while seeking out the courage to let you through the door to his heart. He reached over and pulled you to him, his head rolling to the side to rest his lips against your temple. You were soon thankful for him closing the space between you. 

     You tiptoed around Hongjoong, like trying not to scare a fawn away. That was your biggest fear — losing him. But when the warmth of his lips met your burning skin, the thought of him running away vanished quicker than it had arrived. 

“So when do I get to read one of your stories?” He questioned, eyebrows wiggling teasingly. You groaned at the thought as you tried to forget that you had not picked up a pen to write since you started seeing Hongjoong more. 

“I don’t have anything to show you, unfortunately.”

     “That’s alright. Maybe you just need a little inspiration.” 

     “That’s exactly what I need. It’s not easy to come by when you’re surrounded by the same things and people everyday. There’s just nothing to write about.”

     “There’s enough gossip floating around town that you could find something to write about, I’m sure.” You hummed in response, the air in the room falling into a comfortable silence before he spoke again, much more softly this time. “They’re not true you know...”

     “Hm?” You turned to the side, your eyes focused on the shape of his mouth as he spoke.

     “The rumors,” he deadpanned, the words not easily slipping from his tongue. His jaw clenched slightly, and you knew you were approaching something touchy, but if he allowed it, you would slowly walk towards that door he was willing to open for you.

     “What do you mean?” An exasperated sigh fell from his lips, but you knew it wasn’t directed towards you.

     “I’m sure you’ve heard them by now, just like everybody else. ‘Artist Kim Hongjoong, the playboy, makes his rounds into a different bed every night.’ ‘Pianist Kim Hongjoong was seen leaving the brothel once again.’” He trailed off, the annoyance seeping into his tone.

     “You can’t truly believe that anyone believes that about you.” You supplied, but you knew Hongjoong wasn’t buying it when he let out a cold laugh.

     “Clearly you haven’t been around town lately.” Even though you knew it wasn’t supposed to be a jab, you could feel the knife pierce your skin with the way he spoke his words with a hint of venom laced between each letter.  “Besides, I’ve tried time and time again to save my image, I really have. I don’t know how it even started...” he paused, feeling frustrated, with hurt taking over his soft features, hardening him like a shell that wouldn’t crack.  “It’s like, if I pretend I don’t hear what they say, it’ll all go away if I ignore it long enough. I’ll forget about it and move on. But you don’t see the way people look at me…maybe I’m not cut out to be in the spotlight. Maybe I should just stop playing and-” You sat up and took his hands in yours, your heart beginning to jump within your chest like a wild rabbit.

     “That’s nonsense, and you know it.” You urged, your words beginning to get stuck in your throat. “You’re too talented to let this dream go. You’re already so loved here, who knows how far your music could take you.” You rubbed circles with your thumbs into the top of his hands, your eyes refusing to meet his own. “Please…don’t. Hold onto it…so tightly, even if it suffocates you. Don’t let anyone or anything take it away from you.” The desperation leaked from your voice, and you weren’t sure if you were referring to his music or yourself, but with the way he pulled you closer to his chest, you knew he wasn’t sure either.

     You wouldn’t push him to say more, and Hongjoong was silently thankful for that. The words you both didn’t want to speak were dangling threateningly over both your heads the closer Autumn became. You both knew the end of the summer was your doomed fate, but neither of you dared to speak of it. You simply pushed it away from reality instead, allowing yourselves the peace of existing in a garden of mystical creatures and fireflies as the long days blurred into shorter nights. Every moment spent together was filled with glitter and magic, and every bit of fantasy you could ever ask for. You wanted to be his, gods, did you so desperately want to be his, but you would rather have this little piece of him that he offered to you willingly, than nothing at all. 

     The little fragments of himself that he chose to share with you were so precious, whether that be a tender kiss to your temple as a silent confession, or when he stayed up until the sun woke up and the dew covered the gardens outside to write something beautiful just for your ears to hear later that night. You never asked for anything, but were grateful when he let you into his inner world, a place you knew no one but him was allowed to explore, reside or dwell in. 

     There were days you would just lay together, no words exchanged between the two of you, just the steady beating of your hearts. Those were the days you laid in bed waiting for the sun to set so it would welcome the moon and her stars into the sky, the air filled with laughter and sweet nothings being whispered onto sticky skin. Once the stars littered the sky, soft whimpers and gasps would fill the hazy atmosphere when fingertips grazed sensitive spots on exposed skin, when kisses were slow and drawn out, lazy but intentional. Swollen champagne lips and strawberry kisses melted into burning flesh that craved to be touched, to be loved. Ignoring the empty liquor bottles that littered the floor from the days you were not there fueled a new fire within you. 

     You felt the need to save him from everything that plagued him, a need to save him from himself, but you didn’t even know what this was between the two of you, let alone know if he even wanted to be saved. But, as the days blurred together like your vision when tears formed in your eyes when the sun was too bright in the early afternoon, you realized it would be harder and harder to stay away from him. All of you wished for it, but you knew both of you didn’t have the strength to comply with that, nor would you ever ask that of him. So, with a heavy heart, you decided that wanting was enough. 

     For you, it was enough. 

—

     As the cool September breeze rolled through the open window and past the sheer curtains, you let your eyes wander around the space you began to think of as home, reflecting on the summer days that had passed by in such a blur. You saw the wind chimes that played a symphony of their own, the large weeping willow tree just outside the window knocking into the stained glass harmonizing with the clanking metal. You saw the way the birds flew around, singing the beautiful lyrics of nature, the grasshoppers playing their legs like a violin as butterflies fluttered around in a synchronized dance with the fireflies. 

     Your eyes finally landed on Hongjoong’s ethereal figure next to you. Some strands of his hair stuck to his forehead as his chest rose and fell to steady his erratic heartbeat underneath his rib cage. Your gaze trailed down his bare chest, the smooth skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. The delicate sheet draped just over his lower half, his hip bone peaking out slightly. One arm was stretched behind his head for support as he laid there with his fingers combing through the hair at the base of his neck with his eyes closed. 

     His other hand trailed along the soft skin on your back, both of you bare and exposed to the walls surrounding you. Paintings you had created together when the air was sticky and the fruit he brought from the garden was sticky sweet, hung on any available space, making each wall feel cluttered, but it was how Hongjoong liked it. 

     All you, always. Compressed into an overwhelming suffocation. It was beautiful and made it hard for him to breathe in the most intoxicating way. 

     Your attention was brought back to the moment when you heard him exhale contently and felt the sheets rustle next to you, his front now nuzzling into your side. You felt the tip of his nose graze across your skin, inhaling deeply and exhaling with a content sigh.

     “I wish we could stay like this forever,” he admitted into your sticky flesh, his hand coming up to caress the exposed breast that was uncovered from the sheet. Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his mouth place wet kisses onto the mound of flesh that adorned your chest, his lips taking your nipple in slowly as he let his tongue rile the bud up. You sighed, feeling a wave of arousal crash into you. 

     “Tell me you love me,” you whispered breathily, the air surrounding you warming up as you felt the disbelieving and honest chuckle rumble from within his chest, as if he couldn’t believe you’d tasked him with something as easy as breathing. “I want to hear you say it again,” His mouth came off of you with a pop as he looked at you through his thick lashes. He laid his head across your chest, his ear pressed just above where your heart was wildly beating like thunder during a vicious storm.

     “I love you,” he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, not letting the fondness in your eyes go unnoticed. “I love you with everything that one human could possibly give to another.” He rubbed his thumb lightly across your cheek, a small smile forming across his lips as he stared at you. “I love you earnestly, passionately, and irrevocably so.” He paused, lifting his hand to cup your cheek lovingly. He scooted up, putting his arm over your abdomen and supporting himself up. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, and soon was dipping down to press a lingering kiss to your lips before continuing. “I would willingly give myself to you in any way you wish to have me.” You felt the blush dust across your cheeks at his words, as if pulled from one of your favorite novels.

     “I must admit,” you propped your head up with your chin on your forearm, eyes lazily looking into his as he laid back down beside you to get a straight on view of your features. He swore he would never tire of the sight before him. “I feel the same way.” He chuckled in response, his hand going to the back of your head as he used his fingers to comb through your hair. 

     “I would sure hope so. If you didn’t, I would be questioning your motives.” He joked, his smile spreading when you rolled your eyes and laughed under your breath. 

     “I’m serious! I have never loved another this way, nor do I ever want to.” Your eyes became glassy when you saw the sun shine in his own, the sunset painting an array of hues across his porcelain skin. His other hand reached down to grab yours, his lips pressing feather light kisses to each fingertip, his eyes never leaving yours as he did so, his gaze growing serious and intense. A shiver made its way down your spine in response to his affection. 

     “Would you die for me?” His lips stilled on your skin, waiting for your response. You could feel his hummingbird heart about to take flight in his chest the longer you let the air between the two of you stay silent. 

     “Of course.” You simply said, the words easily leaving your swollen lips to your own surprise. You weren’t sure when that had become an absolute truth in your heart, and you didn’t want to ponder on the thought for too long. “You’ll be the one to kill me in the end, anyway.” 

     “‘You say I killed you, so haunt me then.’” Your eyes darted up at him, a knowing smile making its way across his face. 

     “I didn’t know you read Brontë.” 

     “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he lightly traced patterns into your back, your head falling back onto his chest. “But I’d like to change that.” Next thing you know he is hovering back over you, his intense irises locked on yours. His strong arms pulled you into his embrace, the stickiness on his skin from your previous endeavors heating up under your touch like lava. He reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out three matching black satin ties and sitting up straight above you so he could see the entirety of you. “Do you trust me?” 

     “With my life.” You stated firmly, but you didn’t know if the answer was for him or yourself. He smiled, his eyes softening at the mere sight of your body underneath his, the sheet long gone from both of your bodies. 

     “Good. I want to make sure you never forget me.” 

     “I don’t think that’s possible.” Your eyes stared holes into his face, the passion burning your veins and begging for him to touch you. Your skin tingled, blood red hot and buzzing with adrenaline when he took your wrists in his hands and began tying a knot. Once your wrists were bound together, he sat you up straight and gathered your luscious hair into a messy pony, wrapping the second piece of satin around the bundled up hair. Some strands fell back onto your face, but he did not seem to mind. He finally held the third piece in his hands, reaching behind your head and covering your eyes. 

     “Are you alright?” He inquired, goosebumps forming across your skin as you felt his breath ghost along your ear. “Is this okay?” 

     “Yes,” you confirmed, feeling your scorching blood running thickly through your body, acutely more aware of everything around you now that you had lost your vision. 

     “Good,” you felt his fingers ever so lightly brush along you, shoved after shiver rippling through your body, your core beginning to dampen the bedding underneath you. You felt his breath hovering over your lips, and you so desperately wanted him to close the small space that separated your lips from his. Like he read your mind, he nipped at your lower lip, his tongue quickly swiping over it and backing away as you tried chasing his lips with your own. A disgruntled groan left you, the frustration only building the more he did it. 

     “Please Hongjoong, ” You whined, feeling the tension in your abdomen twist every second he denied you the touch of his lips. You felt your core tingle as his hands traveled over your body, but never really touching you. But you could feel the energy from his palms vibrating every atom within you. You leaned forward and were met with nothing, a frustrated whine slipping from your lips. You heard him chuckle, and it wasn’t long before his lips were crashing into yours feverently. You had never wanted your hands to be free more than you did in this moment. You had not realized how deprived you would feel restrained under his strong hold on your wrists as his mouth consumed yours. You needed to card your fingers through his hair, you needed to feel his muscles under your fingertips, you needed to touch.

     “I want you…” He panted into your mouth, his length hardening against you as he subconsciously began to grind on you. “So. Bad.”

     “Take me, for I am yours.” You pleaded, against his rushed kisses, your tongues waltzing with one another as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing firmly into yours. “Only yours.” You sighed into his lips, and you heard a small moan leave his own.

     You felt him grab your wrists and bring your arms up over your head, the tie in your hair loosening and soon your hair fell around you as he removed the strip of satin. You could hear Hongjoong working above you, and soon felt his grip on you leave, but your arms were still suspended above you. Your abdomen swirled with excitement as you realized he had tied you to the iron bed frame to keep you in place. 

You shuddered when you felt his breath back on your skin, this time it was much, much lower than before. His hot breath was blowing against your clit, causing you to writhe at the immediate sensation. 

     “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to taste you on my tongue.” You felt his nose brush along the sensitive skin near your folds. It disappeared just as quickly as it had come, but not without a deep sigh leaving him first as he took in the very sight before him. Your trembling figure above him, your dripping cunt waiting to clench onto something, your throbbing clit wishing to be abused.

     “To devour you, is my most absolute desire in this world.” He growled against the inside of your thigh, lightly nipping his way towards your heat once more. He suddenly licked a stripe up your center, your back arching instantly as you felt the air being ripped straight from your lungs, a gasp falling from your lips. The moan that exited his lungs was feral, and was now something you craved to pull out of his chest. Again, and again, and again.

     “No wine, no champagne, nor any fruit could ever taste as delectably addictive than you do, my love.” He said as he licked his way around your sex, making sure every drop of arousal that dropped from your awaiting pussy was cleaned up before he made an even bigger mess of you. 

He reached up and pressed two fingers against your lips, encouraging you to allow him entrance into your mouth. You allowed it, your tongue obsessively coating his digits with your saliva, sucking hard and needy. You heard a groan come from him, his dick twitching in anticipation at the feeling of your mouth on his fingers. He pulled them out and dipped back down, slowly sliding them into your soaked cunt, your walls inviting him in. You couldn’t suppress the noises that begged to leave your mouth as he reached a hand up and pressed down against your stomach, pumping his fingers in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. 

     “Hongjoong, I-I need it faster,” you panted and begged into the air, the itch to grab a fistful of his hair so strong in your fingertips it felt like an ache. At your request, his fingers plunged deeper and at a quicker pace, his fingers curling inside to feel the spongy wall he was looking for. 

     “I want to make you see stars brighter than the ones outside that window as you cum for me, pretty baby.” He confessed into your core as his tongue flicked against your clit, waiting for your release and the floodgates to open onto his awaiting tongue.

     “I can’t, I can’t hold on,” you jumbled, your eyes rolling behind the blindfold as you squeezed your hands together like you were in prayer. 

     “Let go, my love.” He cooed, his honey voice making you melt under his words. 

One.

Two.

Three.

     You counted the amount of flicks to your swollen bud and until you were gushing around him, your slick running down the base of his fingers, your back arching like your body was possessed, the desperate moans escaping you as you felt liquid hot and completely on fire, everything going numb and your body exploding like a shooting star under his touch, the pressure of his hand on your stomach becoming overwhelming as he pressed down.

     Your ears rang, you felt the earth spinning and you tried catching the stolen breath to return it to your lungs as you laid there, arms exhausted from hanging above you. 

     “We’re not done yet, darling.” He purred, coming up to you and removing your blindfold so you could watch him put his fingers into his mouth, slurping up the slick that had coated his hand. You felt another tug in your gut and the familiar warmth returned to your core as he used the rest of it to coat his dick and stroke his length lazily, his eyes blown out completely and hooded as they bore into your sparkling skin.

     “I need more,” you pleaded weakly, the emptiness your felt while your walls clenched at nothing, waiting for something to grip onto. “I need you. Please Hongjoong, I need you.” 

     “You have me, love. I’m right here.” He grabbed your arms and untied you from the iron, your wrists still bound together. He draped your arms around his neck before positioning you over his throbbing member. 

     “Now,” he held your hips firmly in place just above him. You could feel his leaking tip barely touch your entrance, a string of precum connecting to you. “take what you want from me.” He sucked your earlobe into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing the cartilage as you sunk down onto his length. You did not need time to adjust to him, your heat consuming his length effortlessly. Your rigid walls sent a shiver down his spine, the shock of your sex tightly encasing him in a safe hug brought him to near tears as he released your lobe and tilted his head back, a guttural moan shamelessly slipping from between his swollen lips.

     Your lips found his adams apple, it vibrated under your touch as you began to bounce slowly on top of him, grinding your hips in a circular motion against him. The lewd sound of your skin smacking against one another, the squelching when his member was pulled completely out and thrusted right back into your hole, your slick pooling out of any available space it could. His hands gripped your hips as he guided you to rock back and forth, his face dipping down in between your bouncing breasts as you moved in rhythm with his heartbeat.

     His nails dug into the sensitive flesh of your hips as he bucked his hips upward to meet your thrusts. The pace you had set was much too slow for his liking, but he didn’t want this moment to end so soon, the warmth beginning to build up in his abdomen. As your hips rocked and your body shook with each jab his dick made into your spongy wall inside of you, a waterfall of gasps and moans poured from your lungs, the stars in the night sky filling your vision completely with their dazzling light. 

     “Baby, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” he panted into your neck, his own whines and moans filling the space between you in the most beautifully erotic way. 

     “Hongjoong, I-oh,” As you both released everything you possibly could while flying through the galaxy behind your eyes, it was like a nebula of stars bursting inside of your chest, forming new constellations just for him. All the love you could ever imagine giving to someone was bursting at the seams and overflowing from your skin. It was all consuming, and you knew you would never recover from this. 

Hongjoong was your undoing.

     Satiated, he collapsed on top of you, all of his weight melting into your body as you laid there. His member softened inside your walls, still holding onto his member desperately as you were his body on top of you. You felt his hand slide up your arm and untie the satin that kept your wrists bound in place so you could finally relax the aching muscles against him. You finally were able to run your fingers through his damp hair, your lips planting themselves onto his temple as he laid there breathing heavily. 

     “I love you…so much.” Your voice broke, barely above a whisper, hot tears falling from your tired eyes as you took in the comforting citrus and bergamot you’d come so accustomed to over the summer. Now that autumn was here, you were sure you had fallen just as the leaves on the trees that laid beyond the walls you resided in had. It was inevitable, unavoidable, and almost felt fated. 

     “You’re everything to me,” he pressed his lips to your pulse point on your neck, lingering there as he took in your sweet scent and committed it to memory. 

“Everything.”

—

     Once the leaves darkened and began to fall from their branches, the air cooling and the days getting shorter, you knew it was time for Hongjoong to go back to the city. 

     “I’ll write to you,” he said, his warm hands taking yours and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. The arriving carriage outside to take him was confirmation that your time with him was truly up.

     “I’ll tell you all about the fairytales I write, but only if you promise to write a song for me.” 

     “Oh my love,” he cupped your face, eyes softening with tears brimming and threatening to spill. “You’re my muse…the reason I will continue to write from every day on. Everything I do is all for you now.” 

     “Promise you’ll come back to me? Tell me this isn’t goodbye…” he brought you into his embrace, the autumn breeze sending a chill through you. His warmth surrounded you as his cheek pressed into the top of your head as he held you.

     “This isn’t goodbye…” He adorned a sad smile on his face as he tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Besides, how am I going to marry you if I never return?” 

     “What…?” You pulled back a little so his face came into view, your heart freezing over as his words embedded themselves into your soul.

     “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question, which sent your heart soaring through the clouds above. “When I come back, I want to take you away. We can travel the world, see the stars from anywhere you wish. Just as long as I’m with you.” He gulped, his eyes turning glassy at the sight of you.   “I can’t bear to live a life without you in it...So please, wait for me. I won’t be gone long.” 

     “Oh, Hongjoong…I-”

     “Do you trust me?” His eyes bore into yours, nothing but absolute infatuation and devotion swimming in his chestnut irises, erasing any doubt you had lingering in your heart. You closed your eyes and leaned back into him, allowing his embrace to tighten over you once more. You allowed your senses to fill with his intoxicating citrus and bergamot before a sigh fell from your lips.

“Always.”

—

     That evening, you sat by your window with fresh pages and a new pen in your lap, ready to finally write. As you replayed every memory, every touch, every whispered confession from this summer, you felt a sense of ease wash over you when you realized that you had now found your muse. 

     You took a sip of the tea you had made, placing the tea cup on the sill as you gazed up into the night sky. Even if he wasn’t with you, you sought comfort in the way you could feel in every bone in your body that you were under the same sky, illuminated by the same glittering stars. 

     As you found yourself humming the lullaby he played for you that one august morning after you had shared another sleepless night between his alabaster sheets, you lazily looked up at the stars above, chin resting on the palm of your hand as the fireflies danced for you like they did when Hongjoong was there. You felt the familiar tug you’d grown used to over the summer pull at the strings that held your heart in place. 

You couldn’t help but wonder he was looking up at the moon and thinking of you too. Another tug in your chest was felt as the thought floated around your headspace. A small smile formed across your features as you nuzzled deeper into the cushion on the sill, eyes filling with tears as your heart sang.

Yes, he most certainly was. 

[marilynthornhilllover]

Its funny how you say you love your follows etc when you update a fic and then don't update one for another like 2 weeks then post announcements making excuses or whatever. If you can't handle the pressure of being a writer then maybe you should leave it to people who have time on their hands or for people who don't have anything to do with their life's. Honestly your your fics are great but sometimes this posting then stopping has got to stop

Ummm since when did taking a personal break away from writing and social media in general become a crime????

Last year was the biggest academic year for me in university ( as well as this one) because my exams were very important, but instead I was on here posting every hour the clock struck, writing fanfics, posting etc. Last year I updated 2 chapters of my lady D series in the duration of 2 days, over 4k words more or less for both, I posted kinktober fics, kinkmas fics while still having to pay close attention to my studies because just like everyone else I ALSO have a life of my own.

I graduated from the field of clinical psychology with high honors and got promoted my own office to work with other psychologist while still having to study for forensic psychology, I'm always busy with work or school or something else, I have a burning passion for writing, I love writing fanfics for you guys and hearing your feedback but it's always people like you who are SO ungrateful and unfair to writers who try their absolute best.

I have a life of my own, one that's not fictional, one that doesn't include the characters that I write about I live in a real world with humans and animals etc, I can't stay inside all day and write my life way, because in the end I know I'll regret it. I've loved writing since highschool but everything must come to an end. I no longer crave that passion that I had and that's ok because I still try to post content for you guys.

And I know that theres other writers and persons who are following me who look up to me, who get excited or happy when they get a notification that I posted, even if it's a reblog. The world doesn't evolve around you darling.

It usually takes me 1 - 2 days max to get a fanfic done and out of the way and sometimes a couple minutes to proof read but now with so many things on my hand I don't even have time to breath, I'm stressed constantly, again I write when I have time, I hope you can understand. I hope you all can understand.

And yes I do love my followers because without them I wouldn't be here. And then saying " maybe if you can't stand the pressure of being a writer then leave it to someone who has nothing to do" sweetie so what's gonna happen when thoses people who you allegedly think has nothing better to do find something better to do? Are you gonna criticize them as well? You need to grow up and stop using my anon ask button to make stupid comments.

Thank you.

- sincerely, the mother of smut

[missamyshay]

I can relate to that anon about frustration w Peter in OMW. But not just for the Gwen situation. That was part of it for sure.

Of all people, he starts fucking Harry Osborn! Really?! The son of the man who killed May?! I’m reading another fic rn w that same storyline and it focuses on the internal struggle Peter has about it. The guilt, the shame. He still sleeps with Harry but that conflict allows you to sympathize w him because you know he is alone, craving intimacy and care from another. Maybe I would have felt for him in OMW even if that was a small part of the backstory. Instead I’m just annoyed with him.

Plus, OMW Peter minimizes his relationship w MJ by saying he did not know if he was in love with MJ!! WTF?! Motherfucker, the only reason you didn’t tell MJ you loved her was because she stopped you, but now you’re in bed with Gwen and you downplay it?! What a prick!

I guess as a writer you want your words and stories to evoke emotions and it definitely did that for me, but probably not the ones you were hoping for. Lol I mean, I still felt the grief the others felt for Gwen’s loss but for Peter?! I was like, yeah, you should feel guilty, she died because of you, jerk!

If you’ve found another story with a similar storyline that you LIKE, I’m very happy for you. And I would suggest that you put all this energy into giving positive feedback to the person or people who are writing that fic. Go leave them a nice comment on the words that they are giving you for free. I guarantee that will be a much better use of your time, and you’ll make yourself the kind of person who encourages more fics to be written in the fandom you claim to love rather than the kind of person who ends up making writers stop writing.

I also urge you to write the story that you wish you had read. And if you can’t, then maybe show some grace to the people who can and are taking the time to share these words with you when they are not obligated to. I also ask that this be the last anon message you send me about this fic (as I know that it’s not the first, second, or third). While I don’t have to respond to it, I still have to see it, and I would rather not. Have a day.

[morning-star-joy]

Hi Doni! So I've been a fan of your writing for a while now, I used to comment on your stuff on AO3 as a guest and your work actually prompted me to make this tumblr, which has laid dormant for a while until recently. Anyway, I've had this idea for a story rattling around in my head for a while and I decided to write my first fanfic! It's more of a creative outlet than anything, I figure if people find it and read it, that's great, but I'm not sure if it's something I'll always have the time for... anyway, my question is, do you have any advice for writing in general? Also, any tips on how to use tumblr at all would be great, maybe some websites that are easy to follow for someone brand new? Im not even sure I know how to create a link to a new page to separate chapters in a story.

Sorry I know this is long, but I figured since I just love your work I would ask you if you had any tips. Thanks!

Hello my dear!! First of all, CONGRATS on starting your first fanfic!!!! That is AMAZING!!!!! Writing fanfiction is so much fun, it's not only a fantastic creative outlet and way to grow as a writer, but it's just such an enjoyable experience to express your love for a piece of work by creating your own art from it.

Honestly, your mindset already going into this is amazing. Fanfic should always be for the joy of creativity first and foremost. Of course we all want validation, and it can be really easy to be sucked into craving positive feedback, but it's important to remind ourselves why we do it in the first place, which is because we love to write, and we love the original source material so much.

I have more writing advice here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

In terms of using tumblr, the way I do fics is creating a new text post, and then if it's a series I create a masterlist (another text post) with links to each chapter. For each chapter I list on the masterlist, I highlight it and click the link button (picture below), then I paste the link to that chapter in there. So people can click from the masterlist and it'll lead to the chapter posts. I hope that makes sense, if not let me know and I'll try and explain it better!

Formatting a fic is up to your personal preference! I usually start with title, use a moodboard I made or a GIF, and then personally I go: Pairing (Joel x Reader for example), a short summary of the fic, tags/warnings and a wordcount. Adding a keep reading is important too so it's not just a super long post! I usually put that divider after a paragraph or two of the fic.

I hope this helps in some way. Again, I'm so happy that you're writing fics, and also thank you for liking my writing. Sending you sm love!!

[onlyswan]

hi again, my precious art.

seeing you call your anons beloved just makes me :’) because its such a beautiful term of endearment and makes my heart flutter akfjejcjekcj

also, I saw ur post about not having motivation for in which drabbles or asking what we wanna see - honestly I don’t think i could come up w a fraction of a good idea compared to what your beautiful brain could conjure, because the way you write is so eloquent and beautiful. you make mundane scenarios so magical and dreamy and it’s like, this is just a day to day occurrence but it feels so special. I guess that’s what I like most about reading your works, it’s so obvious you pour so much of your soul into them and I honestly think that they’re really precious to me.

I’m kind of in my feels tonight hence the multiple messages but genuinely I’ve not found another writer that evokes the type of emotions I do when I read your works. they’re just so beautiful (struggling to find a better word).

if I’m completely honest I’ve never wondered what it could be like being in a relationship, but god do your works make me crave that intimacy with someone. when will I find my precious person I wonder…

Sorry for the random rambles. Hope exam season goes well my love <33 sending you all the best of luck and the warmest hugs.

- 🪽

hehehe of course because you’re all my dearly beloveds 💕 i love giving special nicknames to special people 🥺🥺🥺

you’re gonna make me cry :( thank you so so so much!!!! 🫂 feedback and conversations with readers is what really what fuels me to keep writing so sometimes it’s hard to motivate or not question myselfhfjdhfjdhf >_< but as always with this blog i won’t stop trying and trusting in myself !! writing about the mundane and finding the beauty in them 🥺 nothing makes me feel more connected with the core of what makes us human. and i deeply value this moment with you <3 your heart has reached me even from a great distance. thank you!

whoever your precious person is, i hope you meet at the right place at the right time :") <3

lol i love reading anonies rambles y’all are so cute!! and you guys deal with my ramblings too so i also apologize for that 🫢

i’ll do well at my exams and come back with a new in which 💕💕💕

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Bro, I just discorved your "Hands that hurt" fic and deadass read through it the whole night until I noticed it was already day 💀 like man did I srs love the conflict, and tension between Arthur Y/n! Tbh, I'm glad that I got in the right time for you to be writing the fic or rather rewriting it which im also excited for what new you could bring. That reminds that I do have some suggestions and maybe critique so I hope don't come off rude.

1. I would LOVE to see more about Y/N and Arthur's relationship from when they were young, especially with meeting John and the others thought out the years. It doesn't need to be completely the whole past event but perhaps important ones like the whole Mary and Arthur drama, Y/n going through how she feels about Arthur, and even Eliza and Issac event. This would not only would make us to get better eye to how Arthur and Y/n went from X to Y but feel us even more sad for Y/N who wanted to be with Arthur but couldn't. Although I know that would crave more creative for you to bear on how to write these events so dont stress yourself about it if you can't.

2. It would be cool if we could explore more about Y/N, especially with her wants, motive, belief and even more flaws that stand her out. I already love Y/N as she is though, I think the mildly annoying thing I had with her is how passive she is sometimes. MC don't need to be always active but seeing how she can only nod, agree or disagree, and not say anything. Now I know that Y/N is reader insert so I can understand why she is like this, but having her to talk up on others flaws when nobody can't, being a leader when she don't notice, showing us more how she struggle being the only women in man work where she is daily discriminated by other men and high society women. I could go on about that but it would be very long so.

I think that's it for what I can think of but I just want to say that I really love your story and looking forward more in the future hopefully! I clearly care about fanfic writers on wanting to improve to be better since I believe that even a fanfic can change a person's life better! Your fanfic don't need to be that of course, as long you have a good character with good development and everything else then your good!

Anon, you don’t know how happy it is to see that someone is still reading Hands That Hurt. I’m incredibly touched and honestly almost feel like crying lol

I appreciate your feedback and luckily since I was planning on rewriting the entire thing, I will most likely end up changing some of the stuff you talked about. I will end up making a post on the actual story to announce it will be rewritten and with the intended changes I want to make

This was my first actual real attempt at writing a fanfiction that had multiple chapters so there will be a lot of things and mistakes that I wish weren’t in there lol

1. I did end up wanting to do more with them as younger but it just never panned out to being like that, however I do believe now that I’ve had time to sit on it and time to overlook what I’ve written I might try to add small little snippets in there unless it fucks with the pacing

2. The reader, or “Y/n” (this might change) since it follows the main storyline of the game pretty closely wasn’t supposed to technically be the main character, you were supposed to be an onlooker to the story that unfolds in mind which was just a thing I was trying to experiment with however now that you’ve pointed it out I do understand where you’re coming from and will most likely change that as well. I kept the reader mostly a blank slate because it is a reader insert and I didn’t want to end up making it an OC when it’s not supposed to be, so that’s why it mainly feels like you are passive in the story.

I’ve learned more through writing other fics that it’s okay to give a little something more to the reader insert since it is interactive fiction and that’s just how it is.

Anyway! I just wanted to acknowledge your points but thank you so much for letting me know you read the story and enjoyed it. I hope to get into rewriting it (and finishing it) soon

[if-confessions]

if allowed to submit, to add to the demoless conversation...

sometimes we authors do flesh stuff out and then create an intro post but not a demo yet because we want to make sure there is going to be an audience. it doesn't have to be a ton but like, why would I want to spend months (in my case) making a demo only to post it and then find out everyone hates the idea or something?

I can understand where the others submitter come from, I absolutely feel the same. Like "dang it I wanted to drop everything and play now" but my suggestion is to find those games with no demo that you are really interested in and submit asks, engage, ask questions. As an author, that is the best way to motivate and energize me so I can get a demo done.

(no need to ask for permission to submit, I get to choose what ever I want post ;) ) The no-demo discussion is has its own tag. Not sure which ask this one was referring to though...

why would I want to spend months (in my case) making a demo only to post it and then find out everyone hates the idea or something?

Oh, I don't know... maybe:

because you were bored, and one day someone gave you a link to an IF game and you thought you could try that too (<- me).

because you had something to prove to yourself (creating a game, writing a whole ass story, learning a new skill, you name it!).

because you had a story that was important to you and you wanted/needed to share it with the world.

because you vibe with the medium and love to experiment with it, and most of all... do word crimes for the lolz.

because there is a competition in a few months and you really want to join but you need a complete(-ish) version to submit, knowing you'll get feedback for it.

because life is feeling and you are afraid of dying without leaving some sort of trace in this world (small reminder that the IFArchive is a thing, that will keep hosting your complete game even after your death)

because this started as a silly RP and now you are hundreds of thousands of words deep and by jove you will finish the project not matter what.

because.

because the story is for that only one person you are afraid to share it with, so strangers on the internet will do.

because you have bottled feelings and this is the only way you know how to process it.

because your friends are doing IF and you thought it would be entertaining to join in on the fun and complain with them how shitty CSS is being.

because you want a better understanding of the medium.

because spite.

because you want to fill a nice.

because you realised there's not enough representation with your identity and you want to add to it.

because you want to make something that will make everyone hate-play it.

....

You don't need a reason to create a game. You don't need a reason to spend months on something that makes you happy or that entertains you or that helps you grow.

Like you don't need a reason to reach out to other people about your project.

~~~~~

I do have to warn a bit about motivation being fuelled only by outside sources, especially when quantified with notes and numbers of asks and so on.

Starting a whole project with the goal/hope of getting a lot of following/readership quickly will often bring a lot of disappointment when it does not happen, or pressure if it does. Changes in the amount of interaction will also happen overtime, often without rhyme or reason. You could be very popular one week, and everyone moved on the next.

I know inward motivation is hard to muster (and I say this as someone who shruggedly created mini games for fun or pushed myself to finish an update out of spite, but still crave outside approval), but it does become less hard to continue a project if you do it for yourself first.

~~~~~

As for wanting to check for interest, if you are not comfortable publishing an intro post before having a bit more substance, or prefer waiting until you could release something, I would recommend joining a writer's group or small IF server (like the Interact-IF one) and pitch it there.

[blue-aconite]

Because I can’t help myself: 💌 🤲🍭🎀🌻🌿

Glen for tax 😘

Tay my love! Glen brightens my day, as do you!

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

God, I don't know what WIP to pick. I have so many and I'm equally excited about all of them! But have some sad boy hours from yours truly, Bradley Bradshaw, under the cut:

Spoiler for LMD part II

With a scream so loud it probably rattled the windows and woke up his entire dorm, Bradley shoved all the items from his desk, watching as it all crashed to the ground. He thought it would make him feel better but it didn’t. 

He looked up to see himself in the mirror. Hollow cheeks and dead eyes, he barely recognised the man he was currently looking at.

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

The love and affection I crave so badly but would never admit to wanting nah but I like writing for myself because it's calming. I meditate a lot and writing is almost the same for me. It's also a creative outlet that I haven't really found anywhere else.

🍭why did you start writing?

I don't remember. I've always been good a writing and it wasn't until I stumbled upon fanfiction that I realised I could use it for something other than school. I think I just liked the whole concept.

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

Give up: Lack of interactions, hands down. It's very disheartening to lay down hours and creativity on something and then people don't care. Yes, I know, write for yourself. But we'd be all liars if we said reblogs and feedback didn't matter.

Keep going: My friends. The encouraging words, their help and them just being there for me.

🌿how does creating make you feel?

Alive. Calm. At peace, happy, sad, angry, frustrated. Creating makes me feel a lot of emotions and it's all worth it!

Let’s Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks

[claudiajcregg]

For the Let's Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks <33 🌻 💋 🎀

Thank you, Barbara! 💜💜💜 These were challenging to answer, but I appreciated having to reflect on some of those things! 😌 🥰

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

What makes me want to give up: knowing thinking I'm not that good a writer, and I don't add anything of value to the “archive,” so to speak – especially when I think others (my extremely talented friends) are just doing a much better job than I am tackling similar themes, in a more engaging way. Also, and perhaps relatedly, my insecurities (the language barrier! the feeling I haven't improved a bit!) and the lack of feedback/engagement I sometimes perceive I get. I am aware I write for a small, often unfairly maligned ship, but I'll still overanalyze when some people leave a nice comment but don't kudos, for example. (Depending on my mood, I'll either think it was a silly oversight, or they were humoring me.) tl;dr: I don't like the effect craving this validation has on my mental health, basically, esp when it's something I've successfully curved in other areas of my life.

What makes me keep going: to be honest, I've been struggling with this for the past year (see: 'why do this when I think others are just doing a much better job'). I've been writing quite frequently for the last six years (posting infrequently, only for two-ish), and it's something that makes me happy. I don't plan on stopping at this moment. Posting is something different altogether. I do crave validation, unfortunately, and compliments make me feel flattered and so very happy. But… I like thinking that someone out there will find a couple of my fics years down the line, just like I did with some authors myself, and they'll enjoy them, even if they are not that good!

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

I'd love to, if they want to reply, but I don't need to get a reply! Comments are a way for readers to let authors know how they felt, but once they are out there, they belong to the author more than to myself. I understand why some don't like to, or don't want to, respond, but I know that doesn't mean they don't appreciate them. Comments are so personal! 🥹 (I can't express myself properly today, so I hope that made some sense.)

I personally do it, if only because I want to thank them for taking time to read + comment. I also love rambling about things they touch on (and hope they don't mind my doing that). Sometimes it takes me weeks to get back to it, particularly if I'm in my feelings about writing and don't feel deserving of love for it. (People kept being sweet and reassuring but my insecurities still got/get the best of me. Fun times!)

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

Ah, pasapalabra. Can't avoid it? Uhhhh. I basically can't judge my writing – I'm my biggest supporter and my harshest critic. But…

I sometimes go back to some stories (but never somewhere I've already posted it in) and find myself impressed about how decent they are, and/or feeling emotional about things that happen in those stories. As if I hadn't written them and knew its emotional beats. I guess… I can be good at emotion and making it feel earned? (I'm at a loss. Pls help.)

Thank you again, Barbara! This was fun 💜 (more answers and the questions here)

[dimadimoo]

I have to admit, I still crave a bit of approval or validation from others. It's not like I'm desperate for it, but I don't know, it's just kind of hard to explain…

So, I have this friend. Yeah, the guy from the Philippines I used to have a crush on. And he read this blog once and thought I hated him. Yup, him. We’re all good now though.

I met him through a tf community on discord, and he was the first to reach out to me. He said he liked one of my stories, and honestly, it made my day. And I felt seen, you know. Then I got to know him better and realized he's actually a really good writer. His stuff is so good.

Every time he shared his stories, naturally I’d always give him feedback, share my thoughts, and he seemed to appreciate them. He became my favorite tf writer, and yeah, I kinda idolized him. He’s just that cool, and his writing really fit with my taste.

One time, when he was traveling, I wrote a short story and sent it to him for feedback. What he said blew me away, it was way more than I expected. But, a part of me was like "Is he being for real??" It's not like I thought he hated my story or anything, but you know how it is... Sometimes you wonder if someone’s just being nice. Especially us Asians, we can be all polite and white lie or sugarcoat stuff even when we don’t really mean it. But in the end, I took his feedback as genuine.

Fast forward a week or so, I wrote another short story and sent it over. Obviously, I was super curious about what he’d think because he’s my close friend and I’m a big fan of his work. But all I got was, "Not this based on you getting food poisoning." And I was like… that's it...?? That’s all you got for me? I was hoping for more, something to help me improve, you know? But nope. I was kinda bummed.

After sitting with that feeling for a few days, I started wondering why I felt so down. Like, why did I need his validation so bad? And then it hit me: I’m still hung up on seeking approval from people. It’s a cold truth, but I’m learning to accept it... And let’s be real here, wanting feedback, especially from someone you’re close to and admire, is normal, right?

I read this post on Tumblr that said something like "You don’t need anyone’s approval for the stuff you create, but it’s totally valid to want it. Kudos and likes don’t define your creation’s worth, but damn, it feels amazing to get them." (I'll reblog the post iif I can find it again.)

So yeah, does it really matter?? Well… kinda, because he’s a friend and I like him. But at the same time… no... it doesn’t. I realized even before I sent him my story, it already got a few likes from others.

In the end, I’m glad I recognized this about myself. I acknowledged it and handled the feeling. Next time I catch myself falling into that trap, I’ll remind myself that what truly matters is the joy of creating stories or art.

[sassyandclassy94]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @fictional-at-heart (can always count on sisters to tag you in fun things!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Sixteen

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

109,759

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Once Upon a Time (SwanFire specifically), Masters of the Air, and The Boys in the Boat (I’d love to write for How to Train Your Dragon and Little House on the Prairie but alas! The Plot Idea Farm has been dry for years)

4. Top five fics by kudos?

Secrets, Lies, and Blessings - 42

Tell Me You Didn’t… - 28

What’s In a Name? - 25

Words of Comfort - 25 (Oo, we’ve got a dead heat!)

I’m Not Much of a Talker - 23

Princess Kidnapped! - 20 (this one I still plan to finish but it’s DARK.)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! It takes me a long while sometimes but I do! I want my readers to feel comfortable giving feedback

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

Oh, “A Hero’s Sacrifice” for sure!!! I wrote Graham’s death to fit my medieval AU and… it’s one I’m really proud of and really politely urge you to read👉🏻👈🏻🥹 I cried writing it (I also researched a lot for it… like what happens when you bleed out from the stomach👀 Someone said writing a battle scene is like writing a sex scene and… she was right. Or he, whatever.)

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably “Secrets, Lies, and Blessings”. I mean, Bae and Emma get married at the end and what gets happier than that?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yes. I wrote (am writing) a Don x OFC fic and someone invaded my ask box a couple months ago calling it a ‘boring het fic’ with a ‘dime a dozen OFC’. Behind the gray face too of course. Screw you, Nonny. I’m still writing it, and my all time favorite Don x OFC author commented lovely words on it too so😁

I feel like I also had someone come after me once for Princess Kidnapped because it’s anti Hook. Yeah well I gave you plenty of warning in the tags; it’s your own darn fault you didn’t read them, chickie.

9. Do you write smut?

Some. But as a rule of thumb I try to keep it extremely tasteful with zero uses of gross/rude words. I posted two SwanFire ones (one’s restricted) and I’m working on one about Don and Kate (my OFC)

10. Craziest crossover?

I haven’t written a crossover. But if I did? Hmmm… maybe SwanFire and hiccup/astrid?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope! Thank goodness.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Actually, yes; there was a German girl who liked my fic so much she asked to translate it on Wattpad. Don’t know if it’s still there though.

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

No. I almost did, but we lost touch and I didn’t agree with writing fanfics about ice dancers…🥴

14. All time favorite ship

I think you all know that👀 Emma Swan and Neal ‘Baelfire’ Cassidy from Once Upon a Time

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

Well I thought that was going to be Secrets Lies and Blessings but last week I had a crazy random spurt of inspiration… lately I feel like it’s gonna be Princess Kidnapped… it just has to get so… dark before it gets better and I don’t don’t know if I want to put my mind in a place like that (I mean, Hook is told he can do whatever he wants to Emma as long as he keeps her alive🥺 and then the eventual execution I have planned for the end is gonna be… graphic. So yeah. We’ll see if I ever finish that one.)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and emotional angst. I really enjoy writing heated arguments. CC Emma and Charming

17. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

No. Just, no.

18. First fandom you wrote in?

Once Upon a Time. I read an awesome SwanFire fic after a rewatch in 2018 and she inspired me to give it a try and I never stopped.

19. Favorite fic you’ve written?

A Hero’s Sacrifice

About to Throw Hands - This one was my first ever request and only fic written with a deadline in mind. My friend Rachael mentioned she was craving a reader fic where Bobby defends the female reader. Lo and behold I have it a try and voila! It turned out better than I expected and she loved it!! A double win!!

There is no 20 - it should be called 19 questions😆

Tags: (let’s see if I can think of all the writers in my notes…) @eviebelieve-y @selkiesstories @strangethings-everywhere @swanfireprincessmydear @okieedokes DARN YOU, MICHAIAH!!!! I CANT TAG YOU AND I CANT THINK OF ANYONE ELSE😡 there are two SwanFire writers who I remember buy can’t remember the correct usernames😕 HELP. Any other writer who sees this (especially my SwanFire writers, please consider yourself tagged by me if you want to do it! You can even say I tagged you!!)

[billconrad]

The Emotion Thesaurus

    My fifth book got a lot of feedback from my editor, and the main suggestion was to enhance my descriptions. He recommend purchasing The Emotion Thesaurus by Angela Ackerman. The book helps writers show emotions as opposed to describing them.

    Angela begins with an introduction explaining why it is essential to show the reader a character’s emotions and how to use the book. This part is critical because she explains why readers crave visual descriptions. Angela provided several examples of how a description can be improved, which was eye-opening.

    After the introduction, there are several two-page chapters for each emotion. Here is one example: Anxiety. (Note: I am providing a brief part of the chapter because of the copyright.)

    The first line is a definition of the word from an emotional perspective. Then, subtitles will show how to describe emotions.

    PHYSICAL SIGNALS AND BEHAVIORS:

    Rubbing the back of the neck

    Crossing the arms, forming a barrier to others

    INTERNAL SENSATIONS:

    Feeling too hot or too cold

    Restless legs

    MENTAL RESPONSES:

    Thinking about worst-case scenarios

    Engaging in self-blame

    ACUTE OR LONG-TERM RESPONSES FOR THIS EMOTION:

    Excessive sweating

    A ragged appearance

    SIGNS THAT THIS EMOTION IS BEING SUPPRESSED:

    A false smile

    Tightness in the eyes

    MAY ESCALATE TO:

    Fear, Desperation, Paranoia, Panic, Hysteria

    MAY DE-ESCALATE TO:

    Wariness, Vulnerability, Relief, Gratitude

    ASSOCIATED POWER VERBS:

    Bother, brood, carve, chase, choke…

    The idea behind The Emotion Thesaurus is to provide accessible tools for the writer to show the reader how a character feels. “Bob was anxious.” Should be: “Bob rubbed the back of his neck and knew he was sweating. As Sally approached, he faked his best smile and tried to walk toward her without falling.” Much better.

    The Emotion Thesaurus transformed my writing; I wish I had known about it earlier. Now my descriptions read better, and I have more writing confidence. Plus, I think more about what is deep inside my character.

    Unfortunately, there are a few issues. This book was intended for writers. We are a select group that expects a high writing standard. (Imagine reading a dictionary with spelling errors.) The introduction and how to use the book section needed work. In addition, I would have expected double the emotional responses. In summary, the book needs more content and a top-notch editor, but despite the flaws, it is an essential tool for every writer.

    You’re the best -Bill

    April 24, 2024

    Hey, book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in softcover on Amazon and in eBook format everywhere.

[writingmochi]

it is always a joyous occasion when you receive feedback on hard work. i will make sure to be very detailed in my response as i am sure there is a lot to uncover in 40k words ~

it is no problem at all. use whatever you feel comfortable with! i simply may inquire about a few things if i become confused at any point in our conversations.

i have no issue with using lissie instead! and i apologize that you now have a name in which you do not like it’s annotations and energy. i would go through the lengths of calling you honeydew if it made you feel better ~

and you never have to apologize for how you feel. the conversation can go in any direction you prefer. i can be here as an outlet or merely for conversational purposes. i will adjust to whatever you feel like talking about. i will be here either way. i am doing good and i hope you are doing so as well ~

p.s. icky by kard is quite a catchy song. i was actually thinking about it quite recently.

signed, 🩻

lissie: aww thank you so much for the first and second paragraphs!! i don't wanna pressure you too much though on the feedback...

yeah, still kind of feel icky about it so it's better to use what is available. nabasjb honeydew? okay, that is so sweet! (pun intended)

and about the last paragraph, tbh i'm not good at making light-hearted convos. like, every weight of the discussion i have is usually very heavy and maybe it is good because i understand "adult talk" more. i’m gonna have to thank my parents so much about that because they taught me that i was not a child in their eyes, but a little human that can ask for guidance about the world i'm facing.

maybe that also translates to my writing as well and how i crave substance in my stories.

like, currently i'm in the last stretch of my enhypen sunoo fic that was supposed to be for a collab before it got cancelled. the collab topic is about fandom and me, as the geeky kid i am, choose the five night's at freddy's out of all the other writers that choose harry potter or percy jackson. i thought that it'll probably be slightly above 10k (because i famously said here that i just can't seem to make fics under 10k anymore) but, from my own calculations, it might reach 20k. and this fic doesn't have romance or drama as its central premise, it is pure survival, horror, and a tiny bit of comedy :D

[inkforhumanhands]

🎙️🧿💌 for the writer asks

🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of?

hmmm i think i would be happiest about one of my fics with the strongest character voice coming through in the narration, so either #MattFoggy specifically for the Jester parts or A Murder of Crows because Murderdock is fun. (and actually someone has bookmarked the latter with "to podfic" so uhh maybe it'll happen!)

oooh also it would be really cool to have a full multi-chapter fic podficced! so maybe Epistaxis Anime or Out of the Darkness, Into the Limelight once they're done

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

oh man, well first of all i'm one of those people who is always craving more and will never be satisfied with any number of comments, but it does always suck when it feels like you're getting hardly any feedback on something you spent like 30+ hours on. i'm not really sure i have a strategy here, i just sort of grumble and go "whatever, the next thing will do better" ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

okay though i almost forgot to mention but i can pretty consistently rely on some of my buddies to act as cheer readers so that helps a lot 🥺

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

well let's see, i'm excited to finish Guesswork chapter 2 (for The OC fandom) because i think it's got some exciting stuff in it. misguided, angsty handjob during a moment away from a family friend's bar mitzvah, anyone?

and since i don't think anyone here follows me for OC stuff and therefore probably won't be reading i'll share a sentence i like:

“Seth, don’t bring up things you don’t know shit about,” he said, then stood up and walked outside to the pool house, leaving Seth both to regret his lack of delicacy and to wonder whether he’d hit the nail on the head or had merely nicked some of the softer wood right by it.

[interspecieslesbianism]

My Boss’ Son

So I uh...wrote fic. This is the first thing I’ve finished in a while. Just a quick thing I wrote while at work. It’s unbeta’d with no reread because I didn’t want to give myself a chance to hate it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Stiles liked his boss. He knew a lot of people didn’t like theirs, and he knew he was lucky. Talia Hale was beautiful, and could be pretty tough if you didn’t do your job, but Stiles loved what he did too.

Network administration wasn’t for everyone, but Stiles saw doing it for a rapidly growing business as a challenge. The pay was nothing to sneeze at either. At this rate, his student loans would be paid off in half the time, and Talia always listened if Stiles needed something. Especially new equipment.

The only problem with Talia was that she kept trying to set him up with her son.

“Derek’s an artist. He lived in New York, but he moved back home for a change of scenery.” She would say. Stiles didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that it was a lie.

Stiles might even have agreed to it. He hadn’t had a boyfriend since graduation and the guy he’d been seeing had taken off to backpack around China. Stiles was so sexually frustrated, it wasn’t even funny anymore. But…

Stiles was interested in someone else And they had something going. Well…kinda.

About a month after graduation, Stiles had been out with his friends. Somehow, he’d managed to bag a guy way, way out of his league at the first bar, and the rest of the night was a happy blur.

The sex had been amazing, but as Stiles was leaving he saw a beautiful woman pull into the driveway he’d just left. Stiles had very serious rules about not sleeping with married guys. Especially not straight married guys.

But he’d never deleted the guy’s number. Stiles didn’t even know his name. Drunk Stiles had just saved the number under 🍆🍆🍆 and Sober Stiles couldn’t think of anything else to use. And sometimes, when Stiles was drunk and lonely and above all horny, Stiles would send him nudes. And the guy would always respond with pictures of his own. Straight married dude or not, he just had a really, really nice dick.

And they did talk! Sorta. Sometimes Stiles would send him memes and the guy would share IT articles. After bad nights, the guy would send little “you feeling okay?” texts. Stiles guessed to make sure he hadn’t drunk himself to death? Stiles didn’t think he was that pathetic. Not yet, anyway.

So maybe Stiles was carrying a torch for a guy he could never be with on multiple levels. The world wasn’t going to end. Now if only he could figure out a way to tell Mrs. Hale that so she’d stop trying to hook him up with Derek.

XXX

“Derek’s going to be at the Christmas party next week.” Talia said, her voice heavy with implication.

Stiles, on his knees under her desk with a flashlight in his mouth as he tried to hook the new telecommunications system to her computer, could only grunt in response.

“You never know what might happen.” Talia continued. “Those stories about the crazy stuff that happen during Christmas parties exist for a reason. She laughed. “My husband and I were interning in the same law office – long before we were married or even dating, of course. We competed, actually. Each trying to best the other. And it all came to a head during the Christmas party that year. I think that was when we conceived our eldest, Laura, actually.”

She laughed again and Stiles began trying to extract himself, just as a woman cried, “Mom!”

A beautiful woman with long, dark hair was walking through Talia’s office door, grimacing at her mother. Stiles almost slipped back under the desk. “Laura” was the same woman Stiles had seen pull into 🍆🍆🍆’s driveway all those months ago!

Not only had Stiles almost been a homewrecker, he had slept with Talia’s son-in-law? Stiles wanted to die of mortification, but he figured that might give him away. Instead, Stiles stood and tried not to look at Laura.

“Try it now, Talia.” He muttered, pushing her chair back towards the desk for her.

Talia alighted on her chair and navigated to the telecom software. The snowy screen and [Network Access Not Found] message were gone, but Talia wasn’t going to let him escape that easily.

She stood and hooked an arm around Stiles’ shoulders, pulling him forward. “Stiles, this is my daughter Laura. Laura, this is Stiles.”

Laura scrutinized him and Stiles could only pray she didn’t somehow recognize him. “It’s nice to meet you, Stiles. You’re the one mom’s been trying to make go on a date with Der, right?”

Stiles winced and nodded. “Uh y-yeah. But as I keep telling her, I’m not really interested.” Because I would do anything to ride your husband’s cock again. Shame boiled hot in Stiles’ stomach.

“Well, you’re definitely his type!” Laura laughed, making Stiles blush. “Whether or not you want to put up with him is another matter entirely. I guess you can always decide at the Christmas party.”

“Laura! Be nice to your brother.” Talia admonished her, though there was a smile on her face. “Speaking of, you and Aaron will be there, right?” Talia asked, and Laura nodded. Aaron? Was that 🍆’s name? Stiles wondered if it would be rude to change it in his phone. Putting it in as “Aaron (Laura’s Husband)” might actually stop Drunk Stiles from sending him any more nudes though. Provided Stiles could avoid both him and Derek at the party. Maybe he just wouldn’t go.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go. I just wanted to drop off the swatches for Lupe’s quinceañera.” Laura said, moving to dig in her bag. Stiles took the opportunity to slip out and run all the way back to his network closet.

XXX

Unfortunately, despite his best efforts, Stiles found himself coming back to work on Friday night, now dressed in jeans and the cheesiest Christmas sweater he could find. The snow walkers had never been Stiles’ favorite part of Star Wars, but there was just something about seeing them in the distinctive crisscross pattern just made them so much better. Plus, showing off the utmost worst of his geekdom might be so unattractive to Derek and Aaron that neither of them would ever mention his name again.

Stiles found the makeshift bar that had been set up in a corner of the largest conference room and immediately added another reason to his list of reasons why Talia Hale was the best boss ever.

The guy in the bright red vest and a pair of light up antlers asked him what drink he wanted and Stiles’ went with the classic brandy and eggnog. Alcohol in hand, Stiles moved through the growing crowd that had spilled over into the main work area.

Stiles was actually starting to have fun talking to a few people that liked his sweater, when Talia found him.

“Stiles? Ah, there you are!” Talia made her way over, the white material of her dress looking even more beautiful under the red and green Christmas lights someone had put up.

There was a tall guy following behind her in the worst Lord of the Rings Christmas sweater Stiles had ever seen. His head was down, but Stiles saw a light beard creeping up over his cheek, so maybe he was Talia’s husband?

“I’m so glad you came!” Talia greeted him, pulling Stiles into a hug. “I was afraid Laura had scared you off.” She released Stiles and motioned to the man now standing beside her. “Stiles, this is my son Derek. Derek, Stiles.”

The guy looked up and Stiles’ jaw went slack. Derek Hale stood in front of him, but there were also had almost a dozen pictures of him on Stiles’ phone in all their jacked, dark haired, and big dicked gory. Those eyebrows were unmistakable.

Derek looked about as shocked as Stiles felt, and Stiles was glad that he at least wasn’t alone. “Y-you’re Derek?” Stiles finally squeaked.

“You forgot my name?” Derek asked, looking both annoyed and hurt.

Before Stiles could reply, he noticed Talia’s same distinctive eyebrows (how had he not noticed?!) creeping up toward her hairline. “You two already know each other?” She asked, voice so curious she almost sounded accusing.

Stiles could see the slight panic in Derek’s eyes and jumped in before he could think better of it. “R-right before I was hired here. We just danced a little at a club.”

Stiles could tell from Talia’s expression that she wasn’t fooled, but all she said was, “Oh. Well then why don’t I leave you two alone to get caught up then?” Before either of them could speak, she disappeared into the crowd.

As soon as Talia was out of earshot, Derek turned back to him. “You seriously forgot my name?” This time, Stiles could just hear the note of anxiety under Derek’s words. Still…

“Obviously you forgot mine too. Stiles isn’t exactly a common name.” Stiles shot back, folding his arms.

“When I peeked at your driver’s liscense after you fell asleep, all it said was Mieczyslaw.” Derek argued, and Stiles didn’t have a good answer to that. “How come I didn’t hear from you for months?” He asked, sounding more accusing with each word.

Stiles flushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. “I thought you were married…”

Derek was so surprised; he let his folded arms drop. “You what? Why?”

“I saw Laura pull into your place that morning.” Stiles admitted, folding his arms and hugging out his annoyance at himself. “You were already so far out of my league, I guess the idea you were married seemed logical.”

“But you still liked me enough to ask for dick pics?” Derek asked with one eyebrow raised.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Drunk Stiles is an amoral dick controlled by his dick. Besides, you always responded.”

Derek’s jaw tightened and he looked down at his shoes. He stayed that way long enough for Stiles to wonder if that would just be that. Just as Stiles opened his mouth to excuse himself, Derek looked up. “Well then, how about Sober Derek takes Sober Stiles out for dinner, and we see what happens?”

Stiles only had to think about it for about two seconds before reaching out and slipping his hand into Derek’s.