#but i finished the first chapter of this and i just wanted to share a lil 🥺

[wolls-angel]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ hockey song (cover) - Offside AU ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x popstar!reader summary: Y/N is in Toronto to meet her best friend's new boyfriend and they go to one of his games. Little does she know a certain goalie is captivated by her. lyrics: Oh! The good ol' Hockey game / Is the best game you can name / And the best game you can name / Is the good ol' Hockey game word count: 1.4k warning(s): pure fluff, not proof read notes: yayyyyyy first chapter of Offside !! so excited to finally share this with you all. i hope you enjoy !! xoxo fun fact: ik this song by heart. offside masterpost - next chapter

You hear a high pitched squeal come from behind you and immediately know exactly who is standing there. Iris Bennett, your best friend since... well, forever. You turn around and open your arms to invite her in for a hug. It has been 7 horrible months without your best friend, but now you are here, in Toronto, to play a show and (more importantly) meet Iris' new boyfriend.

When Iris told you she met someone you never thought it would be a hockey star. "His name is William Nylander. Look him up, Y/N" and you did. Tall, handsome, blonde. You understood why she liked him. But you wanted to meet him. It just so happened that you had booked Scotia Bank Arena the day after the Leafs were scheduled to play there, so Iris Invited you to the game as her plus one.

She ran into you at full force, "I missed you!!". She was a little taller than you with shorter blonde hair and the kindest eyes you could ever imagine. You lose your balance for a second but she stabilizes you.

"I missed you too, Iris," she pulls away, "How have things been?". All she does is smile and cover her mouth, as if she's trying to hide her excitement, "Amazing! Y/N, you have to meet Willy. He's amazing and so sweet and so funny and just the perfect guy". You smile at her excitement. She hasn't spoken this way about a man in a very long time.

"I'm happy for you, babe," you look around and notice how people are starting to recognize who you are, "Time to go to the hotel?"

"Yeah".

The drive to the hotel is filled with giggles and gossip as you tell Iris about your breakup with Milo and her first few months of dating William, who she lovingly refers to as Willy.

The Leafs management had been very kind in arranging your accommodations for staying in Toronto, in exchange for an appearance at a game. Your publicist, Janine, agreed but only if you could steal a player the next night for your show. So... everyone was happy.

You were staying in the Royal York, a gorgeous old hotel right across from the arena where you would be attending the game and playing your show. The staff seemed nice and they were able to bring all your luggage to your room no problem. When you got to the hotel room, there was a box on the bed with a card beside it. You drop your purse and open the card.

ANGL, We are so pleased you will be joining us for our game against the Anaheim Ducks tonight. As a token of our appreciation for your work and talent, we hope you will wear this bedazzled and signed Joseph Woll jersey. We are excited to see you at the game. ~ Leafs Management

You smile and open the box. Just like the card said, there is a bedazzled blue Leafs home jersey. Of course you decide to wear it. How could you say no?

The gossip between you and Iris continues as you get ready for the game together. Normally WAGs don't wear their man's jersey or sit in the front row, but Iris wasn't going to make you do all the fan stuff on your own. She put on her jersey, reading Nylander 88 on the back, and a pair of crisp blue jeans to match.

"He did what?" Iris' jaw drops as you nod, finishing your makeup. "Seriously, I can't believe you didn't leave him sooner... What an asshole. Telling you to lose weight because it would be bad for him to have a fat girlfriend? He's just self conscious he couldn't lift you up at Disney". You let out a giggle at that comment. You see Iris check her watch in the mirror and she says, "Shit, girl, you need to change. We're gonna be late and I told Willy I'd get you there for warm ups".

"Perfect timing, because makeup is done," you swipe the last bit of lipgloss on your lips and put the tube in your purse. Iris hands you the jersey. It fits well. Kinda oversized, which you like. You fix your hair and sigh. You didn't even look up who this Woll guy is. What if he's some controversial guy who has a criminal record and is barely being kept out of jail? What if he beats his girlfriend?

"Come on, Y/N, we need to go!" Iris yells from the other room. You slip on your black leather platform boots and grab your purse, following Iris out the door.

Scotia Bank Arena is already bouncing with excitement when you arrive. The Leafs are all on the ice and skating around, warming up. You take your seat and number 88 immediately comes up to the boards, waving at Iris. She waves back and then points to you. You wave and smile. That must be William. He waves and mouths "nice to meet you" before blowing a kiss at Iris and skating away.

Thirty seconds later, another guy, number 23, comes up to the board. He waves at Iris and shoots you a wink before continuing on his way. You laugh at the gesture and ask Iris, "Who was that?". "Matthew Knies. Young guy, very nice. I can introduce you if you want..." Iris shrugs against you and wiggles her eyebrows. "Stop that," you playfully hit her thigh. Then, you hear a horn. The game is starting.

The game is exciting. Leafs score. Leafs powerplay. Offside. Ducks score. Leafs score. Leafs score. Ducks penalty. Icing. Fight. Leafs score. Two minutes to the end of the 3rd and its 4-1 Leafs. The arena is buzzing. Your leg is bouncing and you are holding Iris' hand for dear life.

The whistle blows and the man over the speakers shouts, "We forgot to mention a little surprise for all you music lovers in the crowd tonight. Please give a warm Toronto Maple Leafs welcome to popstar, ANGL!". The crowd roars as the camera pans to you and Iris. You wave and blow kisses up to it, smiling sweetly.

The Leafs goalie turns to look at you while tapping his stick on the ice as if to clap before getting into position for the face off. This is exciting. Ducks empty net. Pumped up crowd and thirty second left in the game. The ref drops the puck and the Ducks captain wins the faceoff, shooting it at the goal. The goalie males the save and there is a path. He gives it a good hit and it travels down the ice, into the Ducks net. The whistle blows signalling the game is over and the announcer says, "Leafs win 5-1 annnndddddd Joseph Woll with his first goal of the season, unassisted!". The arena erupts in cheers and you even hear people chanting "And after allllllll, you're my Joseph Wolllllllll" (like Wonderwall by Oasis).

The rest of the Leafs line up to give the goalie, or Woll, a hug before they all file off the ice. You get up to leave but Iris tells you, "No, wait, we have to see who are the three stars of the game," so you sit back down. The announcer begins, "And now, your stars of the game! Third star of the game, from your Toronto Maple Leafs, number 88, William Nylander," the crowd cheers and Iris jumps up and down, screaming. William skates onto the ice and gives his stick to a young boy in the front row across the ice from the bench.

"Second star of the game, from the Anaheim Ducks, number 11, Trevor Zegras". There is very little applause from the audience and Zegras doesn’t even come on the ice. "Finally, the first star of the game, from you Toronto Maple Leafs, number 60 Joseph Woll." The crowd cheers again and Woll skates onto the ice. He turns towards you and smiles, tossing his stick over the glass to give you. He mouths "nice jersey" and skates away.

You can feel your cheeks heat up and you look at Iris, whose mouth is hanging open. "What?" you ask her. "Nothing, nothing. Just seems like a song worthy moment, you know?". You laugh. Maybe it is. All you know is you'll be going to a lot more hockey games from now on.

*ur.angel has added a post*

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART EIGHTEEN

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: before your ultimate departure, you spend your last moments with sae-byeok.

wc. 3.5k (i think lol)

warnings: angst and lots of fluff | authors note: after this only two chapters left guyssss

(nowhere girl masterlist)

When Sae-byeok was done changing she walks to the living room, expecting to see you amidst slumber, however traces of you were vanished. Her eyebrows furrow and she paces to the calendar hanging in the kitchen—you leave tomorrow. She knows you aren’t in the bathroom because she was just there. You are nowhere in the apartment. Did she get the date wrong?

Sae-byeok might have to pause a morning of pickpocketing—which she calls work now…again—to figure out if you actually left. She steps out the apartment, knowing there aren’t any traces of you inside.

Her mouth is set in a hard line, growing more worried by the second.

She sweet sense of relief bubbles in her stomach when she sees you sitting on the concrete staircases leading to the complex—you were painting something. She swallows back a sigh of content and carefully makes her way to you.

When a shadow looms through your small canvas you immediately flip it over to conceal it from whoever is walking past. The corners of your mouth turn up when you see who appears before you. “Hi.”

“Hi.” she greets, in the same tone of timidness. Her worries vanishing once she sits down beside you. “I thought you…”

A sense of deja vu overwhelms her looking at you. You have on your denim overalls and sporting chipped nail polish however this time they are orange—it reminds her of the day she first met you. It boggles her mind how much things changed since then.

“Left?” you question with a chuckle. “No, I just went to drop off Cheol.”

Sae-byeok’s chest fills with pride. She insisted last night that you wouldn’t drop off Cheol solely to get enough rest, however you did it anyway. No one cared for her or her brother this much.

“Where’s your suitcase though?” she mutters. She stares at her folded hands so you couldn’t see her cheeks turn pink.

“Oh, I forgot it in Ji-yeong’s room. She was helping me pack last night.”

You start putting away your brushes and watercolor set back in your bag, however the canvas was still facing away from her. It peaks her interest because usually you’ll proudly present your work.

“What are you working on?” she asks you, trying to peer over your work.

“I can’t tell you yet.” you say cheekily, wagging your paint stained finger in her face. “It’s a surprise.”

She raises a suspicious brow but doesn’t poke you any further. If anything, it excites her that you still find ways to make her stomach all fuzzy. Not that she’ll ever admit it though.

Today feels bittersweet. Although it’s your last full day, today is the only time you have your schedule free ironically enough. Sae-byeok has to take advantage of that—she still wishes for the day you two do nothing together and today might be it.

“Wanna go grab a meal. On me?” she asks out of the blue.

“That’d be great.” you say, after you finish packing your things. Your smile gets wider just looking at her timid eyes that she tries masking with a poker face. “You want to go right now?”

Sae-byeok nods. She waits for you to put your belongings back inside the apartment and all while she tries preventing her face muscles from forming a grin. When you come back, you seem to be in higher spirits because with every step you make, there was a slight bounce to them.

“Can’t believe you’re leaving already.” Sae-byeok sighs.

The restaurant was quaint and hidden beneath the towers of flashy signs with only two tables inside for sitting. However, you both enjoy the fact that it was so small, it made this day all more intimate and personal. And you both got the perfect seating near the window.

You both decide to share a large bowl of noodles with black bean sauce.

“Yeah.” you reply to her with an anxious chuckle. “I’m nervous—I’m going to be with all sorts of international students so I don’t know if I’ll make any friends.”

“You’ll have fun regardless.” she says coolly before slurping a serving of noodles.

“Is that my shirt?”

Sae-byeok quizzically looks at you before peering down at the shirt she’s wearing. A slightly oversized blue stripped button up shirt she barely remembers picking.

“You—You said I could—“

“Oh. Right.” you facepalm. “Sorry, I forgot.”

Two nights back, you were sorting through and choosing clothes to bring to Italy. And you offered Sae-byeok some of your clothes you weren’t bringing along. Although she was highly reluctant at first, this was the only item of clothing she picked.

“I could give it back to you—“

“No. It’s yours now. It looks nice.”

After that you both silently finish eating the noodles. Your faces flush whilst avoiding making eye contact.

After you two confessed, you both began acting more awkwardly towards each other. Neither of you knew what to say or how to act around each other. And neither of you told anyone what occurred that night. As days pass by, the tension just got thicker.

At one point you both dip your chopsticks in the bowl, causing them to collide against each other. You quickly mutter an apology while Sae-byeok blinks rapidly. It was just too awkward.

“Thanks for the meal.” you murmur after Sae-byeok finishes paying.

“I owed you one remember?” she says to you and covertly focuses on the small grin forming on your lips.

It would be a lie to say that she didn’t think about that night more than she’d like. Especially whenever you smile, it’s like she could still feel your lips moving against hers. When she realizes what she’s currently thinking of, she clears her throat and soars off her seat.

“Do you want to spend the rest of the morning together?” you hesitantly suggest once you’re out of the restaurant.

“What?” she mutters, still dazed and scared that you read her thoughts.

“You’re probably busy but I just wanted to spend the rest of the morning with you before you know…”

She clears her throat again. “Sure.”

“Any place in mind?”

A glint of mischief forms in Sae-byeok’s eyes making your eyebrows furrow up. She nods in a direction for you to follow and you just let her lead the way.

A relatively short and silent walk led you both to a familiar block you remember running away from a gangster. Sae-byeok notices the crestfallen expression surfacing your face when you figured out where she’s taking you.

“Don’t worry.” she reassures you. And you just silently take her word for it.

She grabs your hand when you both spot her old job and your old apartment then starts walking faster. Her eyes dart around like an owl in the night, making sure prey isn’t in sight. The visible confusion in your face doesn’t dissipate when Sae-byeok lures you to the back of the bakery building, where there is only a narrow staircase leading up high.

“What’s—“

Sae-byeok places her pointer finger onto her lips to signal for your silence as she opens the door to the rooftop. There, she pulls two familiar plastic chairs for you two to sit on the edge of the roof.

“I used to come here during my breaks.” she explains flatly and pats the empty seat beside her for you to sit.

You clutch the straps of your bag and stiffly sit down. She chuckles in amusement.

“Don’t worry. No one knows about this place.” she states, a teasing smile indistinctly forming. “Besides, you’re a little reckless too aren’t you?”

You throw her a look. “You have a cute smile.” you say bluntly, completely throwing Sae-byeok off. “Sorry, that was my recklessness talking.”

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up.” she grumbles yet the smile still remains.

“I’m serious though,” you say, looking far ahead at the city beneath you. “I think you’re really pretty. And—I meant to tell you that for a while.”

The confession made her eyes grow wide. She couldn’t stop looking at you and your scarlet face.

“You’re pretty.” Sae-byeok whispers. If the wind blew any louder you would’ve missed it. “And cool.”

“No,” you snort. “you’re cooler. And tougher. And badass.”

Sae-byeok hums to herself to think. Being a woman of few words she wants to try her best to her thoughts now.

“I think…” she speaks up. “there are different types of cool people. And you’re the artistic—freedom of expression type of cool.”

Your entire face lit up. “Wow. That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.”

“How did you do it?” she blurts out. “Express yourself?”

You blink at her. “Oh…Well, it wasn’t until I got to college when I started experimenting. Before that I was just trying hard to fit in. But when I got to college everyone was so colorful and fun I slowly began to be more…spontaneous I guess.”

“…When you come back maybe you could help me?”

“Of course. I’d love that.”

The exchange of fleeting glances is reciprocated for a second before you both look away.

“Sae-byeok.”

“Hm?

“You’ll be okay, right?” you ask apprehensively. “I know you’re incredibly resilient and smart but I’m just worried—“

“Don’t.” she interrupts. “Don’t worry about a thing. Just focus on enjoying your trip.”

“Yes, I know it’s just—“

“You said it yourself. I’m smart and resilient. Everything will be okay—I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

You let out a huge exhale of relief. “Alright. You’re right.”

“And I just want to say,” she breathes, scooting her chair so she could get closer to you. “thank you for everything. Not just for helping with rent this month or dropping off and picking up Cheol but…I discovered a lot about myself and a big part of that is due to you.”

Your pupils dilate just by merely observing her. Sae-byeok couldn’t help her rapid chest movement after speaking and she goes back to sink further in her seat.

“That means a lot to me that you said that.” you murmur happily. Sae-byeok’s eyes get rounder, this overwhelming feeling of kindness and admiration is going to give her a heart palpitation. But she hides it so well you don’t even know. “Could I ask you one more thing?”

“Yeah.”

“What were you like…before you came down south?”

Sae-byeok’s expression dulls up. No one has ever asked her that question before. The unimaginable horrors she’s been apart of whilst being Deok-su’s posse made her forget about her life before all the crimes. But you patiently wait as she takes her time to regain the blurry memories back.

“I remember that I wasn’t always like this. When I was a kid I think I was pretty lively—like a child should be. You know, I always thought I would have a miserable life for a long time. Even by the time I rescue my mom I had a feeling I would still be this lonely, untrustworthy person till the moment I die…But it wasn’t until I came here and saw my father get killed that I buried that part of me a long time ago…now I don’t know what it feels like to be a youthful person. I’m sorry I don’t really remember…”

Sae-byeok flinches when she feels a finger pad trace down her face. She blinks at you and it dawns to her that she was getting teary eyed. And you were wiping them off.

“It must’ve been hard for you.”

“Yeah.” she mutters.

“But you’re not alone anymore.”

Sae-byeok wishes that would be true. But a deep dark part of her still thinks otherwise. She slowly adverts her gaze back at you—like she was trying to get one good look at you before you go. Because soon enough, you will become faded memories in the cruel passage of time. But to not worry you, she just shakes her head.

“Are you alright?” you ask seeing her sullen expression deepen.

“Yeah.” she quickly says.

You stare at her, still skeptical. “…Okay.” you whisper.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

“It’s going to be so boring here now.” Cheol grumbles, arms crossed whilst watching you from the couch.

“Ouch.” Ji-yeong grumbles at the boy, pressing her chest to her heart as if she was in pain.

“Sorry…” he winces.

You were currently crouching in front of the living room trying to zip up your carryon suitcase. And by the looks of it, with your large sunglasses and sun hat, you are ready for an amazing journey through Italy.

In all honesty, you are still deeply in denial about this once in a lifetime opportunity granted to you. You still feel guilty about leaving everything behind—even your internship at the gallery especially after the begrudging look your boss gave you two weeks ago when you told him the news. It’ll be hard for you to navigate this short coming life across the globe without your friends and Sae-byeok, who you aren’t sure where to place her—friend or something more complicated. But relationship or not, what you two built was the most beautiful thing. And…she might be the person you miss most of all. You assume she feels the same with the intense gaze she’s giving you. It was like she’s trying to bore you into her mind.

“When I get back you’ll have so many cool paint sets everyone in your class is going to be envious of you.” you tell Cheol with a mischievous look he exchanges back.

You let out a huge sigh of relief after successfully closing the suitcase thanks to Ji-yeong sitting on top of it to apply pressure.

“My ass hurts now.” she whines and leaps back up.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket so you scramble to check it. This being your first time boarding an airplane you want to arrive there extra early, meaning every second needs to be accounted for this early morning Saturday.

“The taxi is almost here.” you gasp and remove your sunglasses and hat off your head.

Your heart rate increases now, it’s getting more real by the second.

The living room grows quiet for a brief moment, all sharing with the knowing that you’re truly going away. Ji-yeong is the first to envelope you in a bear hug.

“Bye, Ji.” you say against her hair, reciprocating the embrace.

“Can’t believe you’re going to fucking Italy.” she says with a laugh. “You always had it in you though so I shouldn’t be surprised. Have fun, alright? Wait—not too much fun actually.”

“I won’t.” you roll your eyes and give her one last squeeze before letting go.

The pang in your chest became more intense when Cheol rushes to give you a hug as well. Now, it all is starting to feel real. This is happening—you’re going.

“I’m going to miss you a lot, Noona.” he says with a pout.

“You’ll see me soon enough.” you assure him. “Take care of my acrylic sets, okay? Oh, and when you use acrylic don’t forget to prime your canvas before you—“

Sae-byeok coughs and signals you start heading out.

“Right.” you stammer and send Cheol a thumbs up. “Good luck, little artist.”

Sae-byeok removes her hands from her jean pockets to grab your suitcase for you. Cheol and Ji-yeong mutter their last goodbyes to you out the door—you already start getting choked up.

The day was still so young, yet it all felt like it was over. You were having a hard time swallow back the tears.

“How long until the taxi arrives?” Sae-byeok asks flatly, leaning against the apartment building once you’re both outside.

“Five minutes…” you trail off.

You and her look at each other, sharing the same forlorn expression. If you know her well enough, Sae-byeok was putting on a hard front to not appear sad for you. But it was all in her shimmery eyes, it said everything.

“Before I go,” you sniffle as you pull out something from your personal bag. You pull out a small rectangular item that’s covered in red gift wrap. “here’s the painting.”

Sae-byeok looks at you and back at the gift, slowly reaching for it. She pushes herself off the wall to stand closer to you.

“You finished it already?” she murmurs in awe, tracing the striped wrapping paper with her finger.

“It was already done when you saw it this morning I just needed to sign it of course.” you wink. Before she dug her nails into it you clamp your hand on top of hers. “Open it when I’m gone.”

Sae-byeok sighs. She checks the time on her phone and gulps like she was nervous to speak.

“I had fun yesterday. I wish we did more of that when we had the time.” she confesses quickly since time is running out.

“Once I come back we’ll have many more of these don’t worry.”

But at this point you couldn’t hold back the tears threatening to spill. You kept smiling but your eyes were flooding.

In panic, Sae-byeok gently placed the gift against the wall and heads closer to you to start wiping away the tears streaking across your face. After you felt her touch, the waterworks got more intense.

“Don’t cry.” she murmurs gently.

“But I’ll miss you.” you choke up and let out a hiccup after failing to hold back the tears.

“I’ll…I’ll miss you too.”

Even after finishing wiping your streak of tears, she doesn’t remove her hands from holding the sides of your face. Like she remains frozen due to your touch. You two stare at each other, silently asking the same question. The quiet response was you both leaning closer to share a sweet kiss.

“When you come back I promise we will figure us out.” she mutters against your lips, staring into your eyes beneath her long eyelashes.

You respond back by kissing her one last time, fully savoring the feeling of her—not caring about the fact that you two were pressed against the wall outside the apartments. Not when you’ll be gone in a split second.

You gasp into the kiss when you hear the screeching of tires behind your back. Your heart completely falls into the pit of your stomach when you see the taxi pull up.

Sae-byeok holds her breath and takes one last look at you before reaching for your suitcase. She helps the taxi driver put your luggages in the trunk and reaches to open the car door for you.

“Bye, have fun—“

You cut her off by engulfing her into a hug. Inhaling deeply, you also want to remember the woody scent of her cologne and run your fingers through her short tousled hair. If it wasn’t in your imagination, you could’ve sworn you felt her chapped lips press against your cheek.

“Don’t forget—you aren’t alone, Sae-byeok. I’ll be back soon.” you whisper into her ear one last time before pulling apart.

Her bottom lip is quivering but she nods and gestures you to enter inside the car. She shuts the door gently and waves at you through the car window. Your face is almost hidden beneath the window tints but she could almost catch your small smile and teary eyes as the car starts driving off. She doesn’t move from her spot until the car becomes a small obscure dot in the distance.

She takes a long deep breath. The emptiness she had in her chest, she could feel it coming back.

Control yourself, she thinks and bends down to pick up the canvas you wrapped for her.

“So, did you guys kiss?” Ji-yeong asks the second Sae-byeok enters the apartment.

“K—Kiss?” Cheol stammers.

“Ji-yeong.” Sae-byeok sighs in disappointment. “Not now.”

While she reaches to shut the door, she didn’t see the worried looks Ji-yeong and her brother shared. It’s like they knew that she was holding it all together by a thread. But they fall silent after she spoke, knowing that anything else they might say or do might cause an avalanche.

Sae-byeok marches to her room and locks the door. With a large exhale she sits by the edge of her bed and stares intensely at the gift. She sniffles and forcibly holds back tears as she aggressively tears open the wrapping paper.

It’s unclear how long she continues to stare at the painting. But her jaw slackened just admiring every brush stroke, and her fingers gently trace down to the signature you marked at the bottom. It was a large garden of flowers with a beautiful blue and purple sky backdrop. The only flowers in the field being yellow lilies and lavender you gifted her a while back as bouquets because they reminded you of her. She remembers it well enough. Now regret brews in her stomach that she rejected them because you must still remember.

She couldn’t hold back anymore. Her mouth opens to let the sobs escape her. When Sae-byeok blinks away the tears, she didn’t notice some droplets splatter onto your art work, permanently leaving tear marks on it.

Her life is still full of uncertainties and now that you’re gone she wonders what obstacles she has to overcome to stabilize her life again. She knows it won’t be easy.

And she knows for certain that this will be the last and only time she will let her emotions get the best of her. After this day, she will bring her guard up to the fullest extent. And she will do anything in her power to stay afloat by the time you arrive again.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss @everly-summers-solace @we1rdth0ughts @wlvlurvsfimmia

[satellite-evans]

happiness

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: You know there will be happiness after Lando, but there was happiness because of him—and unfortunately, both can be true.

Word count: 2.5k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song.

A/N:

Another fic for my folkmore series, this time it is with Lando Norris!! This is my first time writing for him so please be kind xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

You hadn’t realized how silent the world could be until now.

It’s deafening.

The walls of the apartment you once shared with Lando seem to hum with the ghosts of laughter, the echoes of whispered secrets exchanged in the dead of night. You can almost hear the soft murmur of his voice as he pulled you closer beneath the covers, the way he used to trace absent-minded patterns on your skin, like he was memorizing you without even realizing it. But now, there’s nothing—just the hollow hush of an empty space that no longer feels like home.

You sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the imprint of where he used to sleep. It’s untouched, as if preserving it might somehow preserve him, as if keeping it the same might bring him back. But the sheets have long since lost his warmth, the pillow no longer smells like him. Even his things—the ones he left behind in his rush to go—seem out of place now, abandoned remnants of a life that no longer belongs to you.

The spaces between furniture seem larger. The air feels heavier, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. You never thought silence could be so suffocating. But it is. It creeps into your bones, into your chest, wrapping around your ribs like something alive, something cruel. You try to fill it with music, with television, with anything that might make it hurt a little less, but nothing helps. The absence of him is too loud.

People tell you that time will heal, that this ache in your chest will dull, that one day you’ll wake up and the weight of missing him won’t press so violently against your lungs. That love is fleeting, that people come and go, that this is just another chapter in a long, winding story. But you don’t want another chapter. You don’t want a lesson in loss, or strength, or resilience.

You wanted him.

You wanted the Sunday mornings tangled in sheets, the quiet I love yous muttered half-asleep, the way he used to look at you like you were the only thing that made sense in a chaotic world. You wanted the late-night drives with the windows down, his laughter filling the car like a song you never wanted to end. You wanted forever, or at least longer than what you got.

But all you have now is silence. And it’s unbearable.

There is happiness past this, they say. But happiness was him.

You let out a slow, shuddering breath, standing now in the middle of the living room, yet another room that longed his presence, arms wrapped around yourself as if that will hold together the pieces of you breaking apart. But it doesn’t. Nothing does. The weight in your chest is unbearable, pressing, relentless—grief disguised as silence, as emptiness, as a void that no amount of air can fill.

Your eyes land on the coffee table, and your stomach twists.

There’s a framed photo sitting there—Hungary, last summer. Lando had just finished P2. His curls were damp from the champagne spray, clinging to his forehead, his smile wide and victorious. His eyes had been shining that day, filled with a kind of light that made your heart feel like it was soaring, like it had finally found a place to rest. And you… you were right there beside him, your arms looped around his waist, your forehead pressed to his temple, your own laughter caught mid-breath. The picture was full of golden light, golden joy, golden love.

And when you saw yourself in the picture, it felt like it was going to haunt you forever. Not because of how happy you looked, but because of the look in your eyes—the way they were fixed on him, full of a love so pure, so certain. The kind of love that would've loved him for a lifetime. And now, it feels like those eyes belong to someone you don’t recognize anymore. Someone who didn’t know that love—no matter how deep—wasn’t enough to hold onto him.

Your fingers tremble as you reach for the frame, lifting it with a kind of reverence that makes your chest ache. The glass is cool beneath your touch as you trace his face with the tip of your finger, following the curve of his smile, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes. You wonder if he ever looks at pictures of you, if his hands ever shake like this, if his heart ever clenches with the same unbearable longing.

Probably not.

The thought sends a sharp, gutting pain through you, and before you can stop yourself, you turn the frame over, setting it down face-first against the table. You can’t bear to look at it anymore. You can’t bear the way it taunts you with memories of a happiness that now feels like a dream, distant and unreachable.

The room feels colder. Lonelier.

And as you stand there, staring at the overturned frame, you realize that’s what grief really is—not just sadness, not just missing someone, but the cruelest kind of ghost. One that lingers in the spaces they left behind, haunting you with everything you had and everything you lost.

You wonder if he’s hurting, too.

Lando had never been one to talk about his emotions—not really. He was never the type to spill his heart out in words, never the type to say I’m upset or I need you. But he didn’t have to. He wore his emotions in the way his hands gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled with tension. In the frustrated tug of his curls after a bad quali, his jaw tight, his shoulders set like he was carrying the weight of the world. In the way he found you after every race—no matter the result, no matter the chaos—his eyes searching, desperate, needing.

You had been his safe place. The one who steadied him when the adrenaline wore off, when the cheers or the silence became too much. The one who knew, without him ever saying it, that he needed a hand on his back, a soft whisper in his ear, a grounding touch to remind him that no matter what, he was enough.

But now?

Now, you wonder who he searches for in the crowd when the helmet comes off, when the noise fades and all that’s left is the rawness of victory or the sting of defeat. You wonder whose arms he reaches for in the quiet moments, who steadies him now. You wonder if he even searches at all—if maybe, just maybe, he’s finally learned how to stand on his own.

Or worse—if he never really needed you to begin with.

You close your eyes and remember the night it ended.

The argument had started as something small. They always do. A careless comment, an exasperated sigh, a glance that lingered just a second too long in frustration. But small things grow, fester, rot from the inside out.

The words had sharpened, slicing at first only skin-deep—little wounds, little pricks of irritation—but then they sank deeper, burrowing into old wounds you both pretended had healed. Resentment poured out between you like an open wound neither of you had the strength to stitch shut.

"You never put me first," you had accused, your voice breaking even as you tried to sound strong. Because you had been holding it in for so long. The missed dinners, the canceled plans, the way you were always waiting—always second to the race, to the team, to the endless, relentless pursuit of something greater.

Lando’s eyes flashed, his jaw tightening, and you knew—knew before he even spoke—that this wasn’t going to end well. "You don’t understand," he shot back, voice raw, frustrated. "You never have. This isn’t just a job. This is my life. Milliseconds—milliseconds define everything. If I don’t give it everything, I lose. And if I lose, then what was it all for?"

And maybe that’s what hurt the most. That he spoke as if his life and your life were separate things. That he didn’t see how much you had already given, how much of yourself you had carved out just to make room for the enormity of his dream.

The argument spiraled, words thrown like weapons, each syllable heavier than the last. You screamed. He slammed his fist against the wall, knuckles white with anger, with frustration, with something you couldn’t name. The sound of it echoed through the apartment, through your ribs, through your heart. And then, just as suddenly as the fight had begun, the air went still.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his curls, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. Almost too quiet.

"I don’t think we make each other happy anymore."

The words knocked the breath from your lungs like a punch. Because wasn’t that the only thing that mattered? The happiness? The love? Wasn’t love supposed to be enough?

You stared at him, your hands trembling, your heartbeat a deafening roar in your ears. You should’ve fought harder. Should’ve told him that love isn’t just happiness—it’s choosing each other even when it’s hard, even when it hurts, even when everything in you is screaming to walk away. Love is not just in the good moments, the easy moments, the ones filled with champagne-soaked laughter and sunlit mornings tangled in bed. Love is in the trenches, in the storm, in the choice to stay.

But you didn’t say any of that.

You only nodded, the fight draining out of you, leaving behind nothing but the weight of your own grief. Tears slipped down your face, but you didn’t wipe them away. You didn’t beg, didn’t ask him to take it back. Maybe some part of you had already known this was coming. Maybe some part of you had been bracing for this moment for far too long.

So you stood there, silent, watching as he turned away, as he walked toward the door. And when it closed behind him, when the finality of it settled over you like a suffocating weight, you realized something.

The worst part of heartbreak isn’t the breaking. It’s the silence that follows.

Now, days—weeks—later, you wonder if he regrets it. If, in the quiet moments, when the adrenaline has faded and the noise of the world has died down, he feels the same aching hollowness that sits heavy in your chest. If he ever reaches for his phone, thumb hovering over your name, before remembering he no longer gets to call you home.

You wonder if it hits him in the in-between moments—the pause between breaths, the lull between races, the seconds before sleep takes over. If he feels it in the low hum of a car engine, in the familiar roads of Monaco, in the spaces where you once fit so seamlessly into his life. If he ever catches himself reaching for something that isn’t there anymore.

You think of the nights spent curled up on the sofa, his head resting on your lap, your fingers weaving through his curls like second nature. How he would hum contentedly at your touch, eyes slipping shut, safe in the warmth of you. You think of whispered promises between deep kisses, of late-night confessions spoken into the dark—"I love you," "We’ll figure it out," "I don’t ever want to lose this."

You think of the playful arguments over who would get up first to turn off the lights, both of you stubborn, both of you laughing, neither of you truly minding as long as it meant another few minutes wrapped up in each other. The way he would murmur your name when he was half-asleep, soft and warm and full of something that made you believe you’d always belong to each other.

And then you think of the night he told you that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. That he couldn’t imagine a life where you weren’t by his side.

And yet—now, here you are. Living in that unimaginable life.

And so is he.

You remember the way he looked at you after his first F1 podium—eyes wide with disbelief, joy radiating from every inch of him, his body vibrating with adrenaline. But it wasn’t until he saw you, until his arms wrapped tightly around you, that the victory seemed to settle in his bones. He had lifted you off the ground, spinning you in circles, laughing breathlessly into your neck like you were the real prize, like none of it truly meant anything until he got to share it with you. You remember the way his hands trembled, not from nerves, not from exhaustion, but from something deeper—something raw.

"We did it," he had whispered, forehead pressed to yours, like this was your win too. And in some way, it was. Because you had been there through all of it—the heartbreak, the close calls, the moments he almost gave up. You had been his anchor, his constant, the quiet force that reminded him he was more than just lap times and podiums.

You remember the way he used to brush his lips over your knuckles absentmindedly, fingers laced with yours even when there was no reason to hold on so tightly. It was as if he had to remind himself you were real, as if he was scared that if he let go, you might slip through his fingers. The way he would trace circles into your palm, lost in thought, the way his touch always carried a silent kind of reverence—like he couldn’t believe you had chosen him, like he couldn’t believe he had something so good.

You remember the way he had danced with you in the kitchen, barefoot, swaying lazily to a song neither of you really knew. His arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. He had hummed under his breath, slightly off-key, but you didn’t care. Because you were laughing, leaning into him, your fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt like you never wanted to let go. The kitchen had been filled with something weightless, something golden, something that made the rest of the world feel unimportant. And now—now that same space feels so lifeless.

Now, there’s only silence.

Maybe there is happiness waiting for you somewhere out there. Maybe there’s another love—one that won’t leave you questioning whether you are enough, one that won’t make you feel like you are constantly reaching for something just out of grasp. Maybe there’s someone who won’t leave you with your hands outstretched in the dark, grasping at empty space, begging for something that was never really yours to hold.

But right now, standing in the ruins of what was once so full, so bright, so achingly alive—you can’t imagine anything else.

Because the thing about happiness is that you only know you had it when it’s gone.

And, God, you had it with him. You had it.

[defututa]

Even When I'm Not With You

Chapter Two: Six Months Later

modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!reader, college AU, strangers to friends to lovers

Summary: the new semester is starting and you meet a lot of new faces, plus a very familiar one

content warnings: none, at least not that I can find!

word count: 5.8k

authors note: thank you so much for the love on my first chapter, this one is a little lighter ❤️ thanks again to @corroded-hellfire and @munson-blurbs. At the time this is being posted I'm either mentally preparing to meet Joseph Quinn again or I've already met him and hopefully haven't thrown up on him.

divider by @saradika

The last five months had been nothing short of torture for you. You never realized how much you took in-person classes for granted. You missed the lively group discussions, walking around your campus with friends, breakfast with your roommate. Your D&D group tried playing together over Discord but you all agreed it didn’t feel the same so you just stopped playing altogether. The worst day was when you had to go pack up your dorm room and say goodbye to your roommate. Elena was the first person you made friends with in college and she was graduating this year with plans to move to Massachusetts and get her masters degree. You two hugged and cried and didn’t want to let each other go. 

You also never forgot about Eddie. Some days as you’d wait for your classes to start you’d wonder if Eddie was in class today and wondering how he was faring. Was he staying safe? How were his friends doing? 

Would you ever see him again?

Did he even remember you?

Your anthropology professor was very reluctant to use technology. She used an old school projector and would write out her tests then copy them. It was a miracle whenever she managed to use the computer for something without help from the IT department or one of her students. Needless to say, you weren’t surprised when your professor decided to just assign weekly readings or videos and then give you a multiple choice  quiz at the end of the week. No discussion boards, no presentations, and no zoom classes. This was the final nail in the coffin that made you realize you’d truly never see Eddie again. When you met him, you were hopeful  and believed you might be able to call him your boyfriend one day. That dream was crushed within three weeks. 

Summer went by in the blink of an eye and you were more than ready to get back to school. The school’s administration made the decision to reopen campus with all classes offering a hybrid option for those  who chose not to return to in-person learning. You chose to move back into the dorms as most of your friends were doing the same and you also needed to have your own space again. You went with the same room layout as last year, two small bedrooms connected by a small “common area”, basically a hallway with a sink and a small bathroom on the other side of it. You didn’t decorate the common area too much, just adding a rug in front of the door to the hallways and plugging your shared mini-fridge and microwave in near the entrance so you both could use it. There was one last minute addition that you hadn’t told your roommate about, a little dry erase board that hung on the wall between your room and hers.

You didn’t get the chance to talk to your roommate that much since room assignments only went out a week ago. All you really knew was her name was Robin and that she lived a few towns over in Hawkins. She was a creative writing major and was probably the funniest person you had ever met. You offered to help her move in the next day but she politely declined, saying she had friends who had also moved in and were going to help her with everything. There wasn’t much to do the next day - classes didn’t start for another few days and all your friends that were returning to campus hadn’t moved in yet. That morning you decided to grab a quick breakfast from the dining hall and add the finishing touches to your room. You had a Fall Out Boy poster from years ago that you happily hung above your bed as well as a Ghost poster that your friend had bought for you for Christmas last year. There were also a few postcards with ancient art that you put right at your desk. Once everything was up, you opened up your window that had a view of the campus walkways and took out a book. You had a pretty good idea of what readings would be assigned to your classes (you asked the professor before the last semester ended) and figured you’d get a head start on it since you had nothing better to do. 

The late summer breeze filled your room as you began pulling out your notebook and pens to start taking notes down. It was just warm enough to still be wearing a tank top so you chose one in your favorite color and a basic pair of shorts. The tank top showed just enough cleavage to make you feel good about yourself but not enough that you’d consider it to be too revealing. The next two hours went by relatively quickly. The texts in question were new to you, but you had a general idea of what was going on so things didn’t get too confusing.

Sometime later, your focus is broken by the muffled sound of voices coming from outside your dorm room. You notice the telltale rolling of a moving bin moving closer, chatter, then a moment of silence until you hear, “Ow!”

Out of curiosity, you got up from your seat and approached your dorm door to open it and stick your head out. Outside in the brightly colored carpeted hallway was Robin along with a man. Robin was carrying a laundry basket with what you assumed to be her bed sheets inside of it. The first thing you noticed were her earrings with worms on strings. The guy with her had perfectly styled chestnut hair, large wire-rimmed glasses, and a Hawkins Basketball shirt on. You kept silent and watched them bicker like siblings.

“Hey dingus, that's my FOOT you just ran over!” 

The man takes a step back from the bin with his hands up. “You stopped right in front of me!”

“Of course I stopped right here, this is my room!”

“How the hell am I supposed to know that?!”

A laugh is threatening to escape as you watch the two argue. There are other residents moving in that say nothing as they simply push past them, everyone completely used to the chaos of college move-in day. 

Robin turns around, about to motion to the summer-themed name tags taped to the door but instead she sees you watching everything unfold. Thankfully, she’s amused at how you caught her and her friend bickering and sputters out a laugh, which then spreads to her friend and over to you. 

The three of you hear another moving bin rolling through the carpeted halls and you all look over to see who it is, and you’re pretty sure you’re imagining things when you realize who it is.

It’s Eddie.

The last time you saw him - and the only time you saw him - was during the winter when he was wearing a hoodie so you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos, and you’re now learning just how many he has. One arm has a few tattoos - the most notable on his  right arm are the bats on his forearm and a wyvern , with a snake that winds its way up his arm. The left arm only has one tattoo and it's the one you saw the day you first met him, the goat skull on his hand. There are at least two tattoos on his chest, that you can tell from the stretched out muscle tank he was wearing, but again you wouldn’t be able to see exactly what they were until he got closer - or if he just took off his shirt. His hair was up in a high bun, most likely styled that way to help with the summer heat.

You’re staring at him as he continues down the hallway with the bin, and you notice just how much stuff is in it. The lighter haired man had the lighter load, it seemed, only containing two large sterilite containers full of clothing and a rug. Eddie had what looked like shelving, a TV, room decor, and one sterilite bin with shoes in it.  He’s not really looking at where he’s going, instead looking around at the bulletin boards on the wall and the name tags on every door. The entire hall had an overall summer theme to it. The RA’s put a lot of work into decorating when they were going to be changing it in a month. 

Eddie sees his friends out of the corner of his eye so he slows down before he hits the other man, and that’s when he looks up and finally sees you. He stares for a moment in disbelief before breaking out into a big, toothy smile. He’s got a smile that would light up an entire room. All you’re able to do in that moment is give him a smile and a little wave, mouthing ‘hi’ to him. Robin turns around and sees Eddie, saying, “Oh hey, you’re here!” She turns back to you and begins introducing the two guys to you. “This dingus –” she motions over to the first man you met and he nods to you with a wave“– is Steve, we worked at this ice cream place at the mall together and now he’s my best friend.” Robin then turns to Eddie, who stands up a little straighter now that all the attention is on him. He’s trying to make himself look a little more presentable, tucking some strands of hair that were sticking to his face away behind his ear as he’s introduced to you. “This is dingus number two, Eddie. He’s really obnoxious and brash, like dingus over here, so I call him bingus. Y’know, like the cat. They’re living together in the apartments across campus.”

You try to hold back a laugh at Eddie’s nickname but it doesn’t work. All you can picture is a sphynx cat with a head of curly hair. Eddie is enjoying every second of this, even if Robin is poking fun at him. He couldn’t get enough of your laugh the first time you two met and he’s just now realizing that he might get the chance to hear it more often. Once you calm yourself down, you chime in saying, “Actually, I already knew Eddie. We were in the same anthropology class last semester, albeit for like one class before break but it was fun.”

Eddie could have sworn he heard Steve’s neck crack from how fast he turned to look at him. He’s looking back at his roommate in shock. Steve mouth, ‘Is that her? The girl?’ and Eddie nods with a smile before looking back at you in adoration while you’re chatting away with Robin.

After some more small talk about moving day, complaining about how hard it was to get on campus despite the low number of residents this year, you two decide you’ve had enough of standing in the cold hallway and go inside. You hold your dorm door open so everyone can go through. Robin and Steve thank you as they go inside and you can hear Robin digging in her tote bag before finding her room key and unlocking it. Eddie comes in a few seconds later with his bin, flashing you another beautiful smile before he abandons the bin in front of Robin’s room. The small size of the bedrooms combined with the furniture only allows room for one bin at a time so he just leaves it for them to grab when the first bin is empty. You move to close the heavy door behind you and squeeze between the bin and a wall to get over to your room. Eddie watches and follows you, casually leaning against the metal door frame when you hop up onto your bed. He’s fiddling with his rings as he looks at you, specifically your legs. He has never really been into legs, Eddie has always been more of a boob guy if he’s being honest, but in that moment he realized how good yours looked and wanted nothing more than to have them around his waist, over his shoulders…

He catches himself before his thoughts become clouded with his growing number of fantasies about you, and before his pants start to get uncomfortably tight. Instead, he tries to play catch up.

“So, I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again… how did that campaign with your friends go? Did you save that Barnes guy or did he eventually become goblin lunch?”

You’re shocked that Eddie remembered your D&D campaign. The pessimistic part of you assumed he quickly forgot about you since there were more important events going on at the time but he seemed to remember you just as you remembered him. A small smile grows on your face at the thought. You grab a pillow off your bed and put it in your lap to pull at the loose strings on it as Eddie removes himself from the doorframe and takes a seat in your desk chair. He’s sitting casually, opting to sit in it backwards with his arms on top of the backrest. He’s making himself comfortable and acting like he comes in here all the time. You wouldn’t mind if he did come here all the time. You’re unsure if its the warm air coming in through the window or the way that Eddie is looking at you, but you’re starting to feel flush and a little giddy. Usually people would become disinterested when you begin talking about your interests but he seems to want to learn more, so you begin to retell the story.

“We saved him from the goblins but then we were ambushed by a band of mercenaries on the way out of the forest. They were hiding in the trees and Barnes was low on HP so uh… he never made it back to town.” You wipe a fake tear from your eye as you continue on. “And his wife was expecting too. He never got to meet his little boy…” Eddie’s genuine shocked expression makes you laugh. The world that you and your friends had only begun creating felt so silly to you but Eddie was captivated by just one session’s worth of storytelling. He was so captivated that he somehow forgot that the desk chairs provided by the university were rocking chairs so he felt himself fall forward once he put too much of his weight on the back of the chair. Eddie could have sworn he saw his life flash before his eyes in that moment as he felt the chair tip over. He still had so much to do in his life. Eddie dreamt of being the first in his family to graduate from college. He wanted to make something of his life to show everyone back in Hawkins that he wasn’t just another failure like his father. He wanted to see Metallica again, maybe go to Europe. Hell, he wanted to try and find love and he’s pretty sure he found it  but he can’t be with you if he cracks his skull open on your dorm floor.

You reach out to grab Eddie as soon as you realize that he’s about to fall and you end up grabbing onto his bicep. He looks up at you once he realizes that he’s no longer falling and your faces are three inches away from each other. Neither of you are saying anything and just looking into each other’s eyes. The only sounds you two hear are Steve and Robin struggling to hang string lights up on Robin’s walls and the traffic from outside your open window. 

You realize a few things during those few seconds. Number one, Eddie’s eyes look even more beautiful up close, especially with how the light is hitting them. Number two, he has faint freckles dotted across his nose, most likely from being outside during the summer. Number three, you’re definitely in love with Eddie. You barely knew him still but the more you were around him, the more infatuated you were with him. Also, he looked really lanky the first time you met him, but now that you’ve seen him up close and touched his arm you know he must be working out.

Eddie is just happy that you’re this close to him. He could finally kiss you after all these months of longing, but he has to restrain himself lest he ruin your blossoming friendship.

The moment is interrupted by yelling and cars honking outside from the street below. You both  process what has just happened and neither of you are able to contain the giggles that ensue. To Eddie’s disappointment, you pull your hand away and instead clutch your stomach. Eddie now has his head on the backrest of the chair as the two of you try to calm yourselves down.

On the other side of the wall, Robin is standing atop her desk with string lights in hand, almost done hanging them all up. Steve is busy trying to detangle all the wires for her TV when they hear a thud from next door followed by your muffled laughter. Confused, Robin looks down at Steve and they exchange looks of confusion. Carefully, Robin steps down from her desk, onto her desk chair, and then on solid ground. Without speaking a word to her friend, she tiptoes out of the room and peeks her head into your room. From where she’s standing, all she can see is one of her best friends hanging out with her roommate as they try to speak without erupting into laughter again.

“Oh my god, you should have seen your face! It was hilarious!” 

“Oh be quiet, like you haven’t done that before!”

“We’ve all leaned too far back! I’ve never seen someone fall forward in these death traps! Besides, these chairs are made to tip like that! Have you never used them before??”

Having seen enough, Robin turns around and steps back into her room. Steve is still sitting there cross-legged on the floor with the wires in his lap and raises a questioning brow. All she can do is shrug and say, “They seem to be getting along” before going back to work on the lights.

Eddie has a routine when prepping for Hellfire. Yes, he would take time after each session to tweak next week’s plans according to the players actions, but he also had an entire day centered around planning. 

Ever since he started college, Eddie would always make Wednesday his planning day. He made sure that he wasn’t scheduled for a shift down at Moe’s Motors, the auto shop that both he and his Uncle Wayne worked at. He also tried to have as few classes as possible that day. Luckily for him, he didn’t have any classes on Wednesday this semester so he decided early on that he’d dedicate his entire day to his campaigns. If he stayed consistent with his routine, each session would be fully fleshed out roughly one month in advance. 

He found it easiest to work in the comfort of his dorm room. It was a quiet, controlled environment where Eddie could take up as much space as he wanted and nobody would ever bother him. Steve learned pretty quickly that if Eddie’s door was shut on Wednesday then it was best to not bother him. 

Steve was expecting to see Eddie’s door shut when he got back from the gym, so he was surprised to walk into their apartment and see his door wide open and his room empty. He got up to go to the gym at around 7am before Eddie woke up and knew he was there based on the snoring that he heard through the door. The only sign that Eddie was even in there today was his unmade bed with gray plaid bedding and his phone wasn’t charging on his desk. His backpack was missing too. Confused and a little worried, Steve dug out his phone and scrolled through his contacts before he found Eddie’s name and clicked on it. His contact picture was from a past Christmas party where Jonathan had managed to convince Eddie to wear reindeer antlers the entire night and Steve managed to sneak one photo in before he got caught. 

Steve hits the facetime button and waits for Eddie to answer. Something important must be happening for Eddie to disrupt his routine like this. The metalhead answers after a few rings. His hair is tied into a low bun with earbuds in and chewing some gum. He’s answering the call from his phone propped up on something, probably his laptop. Steve can see one of Eddie’s many D&D books in front of him, proving that he just went somewhere else to do his work, but where? Eddie is definitely inside, that he can tell. He’s in front of some windows and there’s a lot of background noise. Eddie is sitting there casually and pops a pretzel into his mouth and goes, “Hey, what’s up?”

Steve, confused, asks, “Where the hell are you? Why aren’t you working in your room?” He’s looking around at the background to try and decipher where on Earth Eddie could be. He can hear the campus bell ringing since it’s the top of the hour, but all that tells him is that Eddie is still on campus. The students walking outside the window are another clue. 

Eddie keeps looking down to his books and then back up like he’s looking for someone. “Oh, I decided to try a change of scenery. That’s all.” Steve is still suspicious about all this and quickly changes out of his sweaty gym clothes and into something clean. He’s looking more at the background and is able to read one of the signs in the background. He’s beating himself up because he should have recognized that building immediately. That’s the back of the nursing building, meaning Eddie had to be in one of the study areas in the biggest academic building on campus. Everyone had classes there at one point, so maybe Eddie decided to try working there? 

Steve hangs up on Eddie without another word and makes his way outside to take the crowded shuttle bus to the main area of campus. The late-August heat was relentless so everyone was trying to spend as little time as possible outside, leaving Steve standing on the bus as it slowly sputtered up the hills to the school. The bus stops right next to the building he suspects Eddie is in so he runs through the entrance to the study area. It’s all wood and tile with a small coffee shop next to the rows of tables and chairs. The area is pretty full so Steve had to look around a bit before he spots his roommate. He’s wearing a green flannel with a black shirt underneath and a pair of sweatpants, probably dressed for the AC blasting in the building rather than the torturous heat.. On the table he has all his usual D&D materials spread out with an open can of Monster next to him. He weaves through the tables of people to get to Eddie and is amazed how his roommate, who always needed absolute silence and zero distractions, was working in such a loud and crowded space. Without a word, he grabs a chair from the table Eddie is sitting at and sits down next to him. 

Eddie sees the movement out of the corner of his eye and looks over to Steve, surprised, and pulls his earbud out of his ear to pause the Gojira song he was just listening to greet him with a confused, “Uh, hey. What are you doing here?” 

Steve leans back in the chair, tipping it back and crosses his arms. He’s looking over in the direction Eddie seemed to be looking during their brief facetime call. He was looking over into one of the main hallways with classes on either side. Steve then looks back to him and replies, “I wanted to see why you weren’t in your room. You always do your Hellfire prep in there and I had to see what made you want to work here…” Steve looks around, noting the smell of burnt coffee and music blaring from people’s phones and laptops. There’s also a group of students having a loud, heated discussion two tables away. 

Eddie hesitates as he’s looking around and trying to come up with a good excuse. No amount of music can help him focus here, but he’d rather give his friend a shitty excuse than tell the truth. “I wanted to try something new?”

Before Steve can respond, Eddie looks up towards those hallways again and smiles. Steve looks in that direction and finally realizes what was going on. He sees you exiting a classroom with an older lady with a messy gray bun and tiny glasses, almost the same size as her eyes. You two are talking passionately about something, just going by your erratic hand movements and how much you two are smiling. The two of you part ways with a wave and “I’ll email you some other ideas I’ve had!” as the hallway ends and opens up to the lobby and study area. You look over to the study area, thinking about doing some research on one of the worn couches near the entrance, before you and Eddie lock eyes with each other. Eddie reaches over to the empty chair next to him and across from Steve and pulls it out for you. Steve slowly turns to Eddie and raises a brow at him. He leans in to Eddie who is watching you hurry over and whispers,

“Were you waiting out here for her?”

Eddie doesn’t answer him, just whacking his shoulder and says “Shut up…” as gets up to greet you, moving some of his books over to behind his laptop and moving his half-empty Monster to the other side of his laptop. When you take the seat and sit down, Eddie excitedly asks, “ Hey sweetheart, how are you?” as you set your bag down under the table. Once you’ve sat down, Eddie casually puts his arm around the back of your chair, his thumb barely grazing your shoulder. The sun wasn’t hitting this part of the building yet, but you swore you felt your body heat up at that moment. The new nickname certainly wasn’t helping. Surely he must be like this with all his friends, always touchy,  giving them his undivided attention, the pet names. You couldn’t fathom anything else. The way he looked at you made you feel too special and that made you a little nervous. Steve greets you with a friendly smile and nod, trying hard to hold back a remark on how convenient that Eddie was sitting right here as you were leaving that classroom. He’d mock Eddie and talk about how weird it was later. Besides, judging on how Eddie was looking at you, he seemed a bit busy with other things.

Unlike Eddie who was donning layers to keep from getting cold inside, you were dressed appropriately for the reason with a pair of well-fitting dolphin shorts and a faded Fall Out Boy shirt that was tied in the front, revealing just a little bit of your belly and your stretch marks. It wasn’t what you originally planned on wearing today, but you were running out of clean clothes and needed to get your laundry done soon. You were a little insecure about the outfit at first, but Robin gave you a boost in confidence when she stepped into the common area of your dorm room as you were brushing your teeth and asked, “Why do you have to look so hot at 8 in the morning??”

 Eddie didn’t know what part of you to look at first. His eyes were instantly drawn to your legs again, but now he gets to see how your thighs look in those tight shorts. Then there’s your midriff - he wanted nothing more than to get you all alone and get his hands on you, to knead at your skin and learn what kinds of sounds you’d make when his hands inevitably moved underneath your shorts and into your panties.

Again, he had to catch himself before his thoughts became too explicit and tried to focus on what you’re saying as the three of you get into a heated discussion about horrible classmates, initiated by you complaining about a guy in your class who went on so many tangents during the class discussion that he wasted maybe twenty minutes of class time. Eventually, the conversation dies down and Eddie switches the topic to you.

“So, uh, how was class? Do anything interesting?”

“I, well -” you look down at your lap and your shoulders droop- “I wouldn’t say it was interesting, but I was talking to my advisor about my senior thesis. I had an idea over the summer and she really likes it so I’m gonna get started on that soon. We’re translating sections of the Odyssey and I wanted to discuss the sounds that the spirits make and then try to draw some connections to the spirits in other pieces of Homeric legend.. I’m excited for it. We also talked a little about grad school and it’s kind of nerve wracking…” Eddie hummed in approval and watched your expression as you explained your options. He may not have known you for very long, but he could tell there were some mixed feelings about this. He takes the hand that's on your chair and moves it in order to reassuringly rub at your shoulder. 

Eddie’s voice softens when he speaks up, “Hey, don’t worry about all that. Like, the idea that you’re even thinking about grad school screams ‘genius’ to me. You’ll do great no matter where you go. Any school would be lucky to have you.” His little pep talk eased your anxiety for the most part, but you decided to quickly change the subject before you began to worry again. You look up at both him and Steve, who you notice didn’t bring anything with him apart from his phone and a half-empty bottle of water. 

“What are you guys up to? Is Steve helping you with your campaign planning?” 

Steve shakes his head, looking at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. Eddie is looking back at him and silently pleading for him to not tell you the truth, that he’s only here because he knew you’d be here. Thankfully, Steve isn’t cruel and replies, “Nah, I could never get into Dungeons & Dragons. The most I’ll ever do is give him feedback when he needs it. You play, right? I think I overheard you guys talking about it on move-in day.” 

Much to your enjoyment, Eddie’s hand never left your shoulder as the three of you talked. You explained how you and your friends had finished your first campaign in May but it didn’t feel the same playing over Discord. “I never realized how important it was to be in the same room when you’re playing. We all live in different parts of the state so we couldn’t meet up anywhere. Also there were technical issues which made things difficult. Honestly, I’d love to play again. Maybe I’ll see if there are any groups on campus that are accepting new members.”

You pull one of Eddie’s books toward you and open up to a bookmarked page out of curiosity. It's cover was partially held together by tape and its pages were either dog-eared or filled with post-it notes. While you’re distracted, Steve kicks Eddie under the table and mouths, “You should ask her” before getting up. You barely register his departure as you flip through the pages. Eddie found it cute how interested you were in the book, laughing to himself when you make a look of disgust after flipping to a page with a Beholder, a fleshy orb with one giant eye and multiple eyestalks sticking out of it. “Eugh… I can never get used to him.”

Eddie clears his throat to get your attention, having already taken his hand away from your shoulder and once again tapping his pen against the table. “You know, we’re actually down two members right now. We usually have seven people but one of our members transferred and one graduated so we have some seats open… if you’re interested, of course.” He’s trying to read your face right now. You seemed excited but he wasn’t completely sure and once he starts talking about Dungeons & Dragons he can’t seem to stop. “We’re almost done with our introduction campaign since we’ve got three new members and if I can get everything done in time then we’ll start up again in…  mid-October, maybe?” 

You begin to smile as he’s explaining everything, and that’s more than enough proof that you’re interested in joining. Either that or you like how much he’s rambling. You’re nearly bouncing out of excitement and get up to hug him when he finishes speaking. Both men are shocked by your reaction, but Steve is more entertained by how stunned Eddie looks. His eyes look like they’re bulging out of his skull and his hands are hovering over your back, scared to touch you as if any movement would cause you to pull away. He’s struggling to even get any words out.

“I… so that’s a yes?”

You nod, still holding onto him and reply, “Of course it’s a yes!” 

Eddie felt so relieved and just basked in the moment, finally wrapping his arms around you to return the hug. He’s taking advantage of the hug to take in your scent, immediately obsessed with the coconut scent he’s picking up in your shampoo. It’s so… so you, and he loves it.

You glance over to Eddie’s laptop, curious to see what he was working on - and to possibly get some hints on his future campaign that you’ll be involved in - but the first thing you notice is the time. You had work in an hour and had to get across campus to change and hopefully get there without any traffic. You pull away from him, much to his dismay and go, “Shit–”, and grab your bag before turning to Steve and Eddie, “–I have to get ready for work, I’m sorry. I should have been keeping track of time.” 

Eddie is saddened by this but lets you go anyway, placing his hands on the table and instinctively grabbing a pen to fidget with. Steve gets up with you, stating, “Yeah I actually have to go meet some guys from class to study for an exam so I’m gonna get going too.” 

Before you head out, you turn to Eddie and say, “I’ll send you my character sheet during my lunch break later and you can look it over for me?” and Eddie nods. You’re anxious to get going, still haunted by the amount of time it took you to get home that fateful February day, so you say your goodbyes and head out.

[the-bear-and-his-sunbird]

Last week I was tagged by @thequeenofthewinter but I was too busy posting for thedasweekend and finish the first chapter of "The scared boy and lonely girl" (which is a part of the "beetle on the lilac" series)

I am far too late but I'll tag @dymme, @ollypopwrites and everyone who wants to join.

Have a (bigger) snippet of the second chapter now, which is mostly Emmrich remembering Siobhan and his shared past. This snippet focuses on the time where she is lost in the Fade.

Time and time again he ventured to her hiding spots, as if he was a broken puppet. Filled with the faintest of hopes to find her curled up fast asleep somewhere, like he did so many times before.

And he would have waked her in the softest way- or better yet laid down with her, just to hold her tight, telling her a story about his younger days, about a boy afraid of being alone. And she would have brought the warmth back to him, surely and steadily until every dread he felt was nothing more than a faint dream; already fading in the golden light of early mornings.

But she never appeared and his mouth tasted of unspoken words and regrets.

(...)

What a fool he had been.

Would they ask him to corpse whisper her, to ask the questions that needed to be ask? How do you wish your remains to be dealt with? A sentence that has become second nature as a Watcher. Would she answer him? Would she accuse him of letting her die or worse: would she forgive him and ask him to move on? Would he even dare to rip her back for questioning or be too afraid to do it, like he was with his parents?

New questions that tortured him at night.

__________________________________________________________

The first week he did not dare to venture into her room. What good would it have done anyway? Siobhan hated it with an unparalleled fierceness.

„Too much of Solas looms there,“ she said. „The only good thing are the fish.“

It was a shame that even a room to withdraw to seemed to be denied for her.

But after a very long and very tiring week, the lighthouse being too silent without Siobhan and Bellara to discuss theories in the library, without Harding ushering everyone to Bookclub, eyes gleaming with joy when there was a violent part, he caved. What if there was a hint, an answer in her room. If none of that, at least her smell would bring the smallest comfort, as if she was here with him as if she hadn‘t left at all.

Emmrich steeled himself before entering Siobhans room. How would her room look? Would it have changed, be warped entirely by the Lighthouse to mirror her absence?

But it wasn‘t. As he entered slowly, his footsteps echoing across the walls, Emmrich took the room in.

It smelled like her. Warm, spicy, earthy and with a floral note at the end of it.

"Smell like the flowers and the earth and you may catch some beetles." she had said when he asked her.

Maps were stacked on the various drawers in her room. Ink and quills roaming next to them, ready to put plans to paper, to make sense of the labyrinth in front of them.

The blanket the group gifted to her lay next to the couch. Emmrich touched it gently. It was soft and purple and it reminded him so much of all the times she sat before him, the fabric wrapped around her shoulders, drinking tea and telling stories. A small part of him protested when he picked it up and pushed his face inside its folds. He felt so very small again.

In front of the green monstrosity that was meant to be slept on sat the table with the unlit candles, giving a place to write down any thoughts, as one stared into the turquoise abyss behind the glass.

Something white caught his eye. A piece of paper placed neatly on the table, with his name on it.

His heart, which had calmed somewhat in the familiarity of it all, started racing again, making his hands shake both with fear and longing. Emmrich sat down on the couch and unfolded the letter with Siobhans handwriting.

"Dearest, Emmrich, Love of mine,

If you find this, I am dead. Forgive me for leaving you, before being able to make amends.

You seemed so afraid earlier, my love. I fear everything I could say to you know would make it worse but I will try my best to ease your pain.

My dear Emmrich, I never would hold it against you, but I fear you will so please know: I forgive you for what you said. No buts. No ifs. I forgive you.

I know what you said comes from a place of fear and worry, even when you have hurt me. I wish to apologize for my words too. I never wanted to hurt you and I shouldn‘t have let my anxieties get the better of me. You are always a comfort in the most dreary moments. The blanket that shields me from the horrors and keeps me warm. My guiding star.

I am writing this at Bellara’s place (again forgive me for not coming to you). I didn‘t know if you needed to be alone or craved company but I could not bear the silence of my room. The silence disgusting when you are not around to share it with me.

Bellara worries about you, you know? About me, too. She is entrusted with informing you about the letter if I do not make it. Take care of her when I am gone, will you? She needs her friends. As do you. If I can‘t be with you, I take comfort in knowing you still have Manfred and the others looking out for you.

Could you do me a small favor? Can you tell Vorgoth that he was the best caretaker I could have wished for? He needs to know. I haven‘t told him that in years and I was rather ungrateful as a child. Maybe you could send Myrna and Cerise my goodbye too? They are wonderful and shaped me in ways I never could have anticipated.

May I also ask for a second favor?

Live.

Fight the gods for me. Show Manfred all the marvels of the world, show him the wisps at the lovers graves. He will like them and they will tell him a few stories about- anything really. Tell them who sent you, maybe they will remember me. Who knows what they will whisper to him. Maybe light a candle for me there and remember all the good times we had, too.

You should also make new friends. You thrive when people are around.

Even if it paints me to say so: If you wish to fall in love again, dearest, please do. I only ever wished for you to not be lonely and I promised your parents I wouldn‘t let you. I am sorry, that I failed.

Do not fret. I will always love you, in this life and beyond.

And when your end comes in so many years (because you will get ancient, I feel it deep within me) I will await you on the other side.

If you still wish for me by then, as I selfishly hope, I will be:

- Eternally yours,

Siobhan"

He cried for hours after reading it, missing her with an intensity that tore right through his core. How could he ever love another when she had taken his heart with her when she left.

When he found the strength to move again, he steadied his hands and folded the letter neatly, before carefully stowing it away in his pocket.

„You are not dead, my dear,“ He whispered to himself, cradling her blanket as if it was the most fragile and precious thing in this world and carried to his room; where it belonged.

„I will find you. No matter how long I have to search.“

[fangdokja]

ANNOUNCEMENTS (especially for horror + psychological readers)

Good news, everyone. 😊 I'm officially not mind blocked anymore with horror + erotic horror + psychological + thriller content.

Yeyy. I'm officially back to writing my stories for the actual yandere long-form content. Still extremely BUSY, but at least I'm not mind blocked anymore. I will still be incorporating dark humor content like my recent posts in other future stories. But just informing you all about the good news, since I know a number of you are waiting for actual horror content.

I have an upcoming explicit erotic horror story for Yandere! Author in "Whispers In The Dark" this Valentines Day entitled:

🔞"You like happy endings? Too bad. I don’t write those."

But I'm currently writing for long-form horror novellas. Not sure, but hopefully I'll be able to post a new chapter next week. Surprise though on what it is, because I always write and jump from one story to another.

Also we're approaching 2k followers, and I haven't posted my 1k special wahh. Sorry. Actually, I saw the results.

Actually, if you look here, you'll notice that I've always had the Yandere! Reverse Harem in "A Heart Devoured" ever since way before a lot of novellas:

It's been in my drafts the longest, because there's a lot of things to edit. I wrote a lot, literally Parts 1-4 serving as the intro arc. And I know it's good. But I've been debating for the past time if I should just restart everything due to how many edits that need to be done. I've also improved a lot from before. So... yeah. I decided, I'll restart instead and make it even more horrifying :)) Sorry it's taking a while. Thought I could finish it, but I know I could do better so yeah.

Me to my writing: Get that shiz out of here. *horrified author noises*

This is just a preview of how my writing looks before most edits and formatting. Yes. I write like one would write paragraphs and run-on sentences. It's what I do in research as well. Anyways, I know I could do better, so I'm going to restart from scratch. Also those descriptions are horrifying in a "seriously use your thesaurus, dude. did you seriously use the term 'biggest'." *slaps self*

Anyways, I'm also shocked with how many people are reading my stories. And if you read everything, how...? I appreciate it, but man so committed. haha. Thank you though to all you, Readers. Also low-key don't know if I'm doing well. I'm literally just here to write and improve my skills lol.

For those who wanted the incest harem, I've actually been writing this upcoming story in "Forbidden Fruits". I'm about 40% done with the first part of the novella to set up the lore of the story:

♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Grandfather, Father, Older Brother, Twin Brother

Thank you everyone for being so patient with me. I really appreciate how committed and understanding you all are huuuu. Really.

Also, I guess everyday is a surprise to most of you all considering my schedule is basically making me write and post whatever the fudge I want. Regardless, I'm happy to welcome all you new Readers, and to all my veteran Readers, thank you for all the patience thus far.

And to everyone? Thank you. I'm honestly happy with just writing and sharing. The fact you're all kind enough to do more, well I have no words to express my gratitude to you all. Whether you're a lurker or love to comment, please continue to enjoy and relax in this LIBRARY.

Also, I made a new masterlist to give you all recommendations based on what type of yandere you like, or what kind of plot you want.

[coalitiongirl]

Regina cuts her off, her stomach roiling. “You talk about me with Henry?” Emma shrugs. “You come up sometimes. He really does care about you. And I think you care about him.” “You think?” Regina demands, and her fists tighten. “You think?” Emma turns away from her, focuses on Henry on his swing. Regina follows suit, letting the sight of him calm her. He’s going higher and higher, and he kicks off his shoes when he’s at the top of the swing, sending them flying across the playground. It’s so normal, so much like a scene from a year ago, before everything had fallen apart. “I wasn’t sure,” she says. “I didn’t know if you…if you saw him as something to have. Or if you really loved him.” Regina seethes. Something in her chest withers and dies. She’s furious. She isn’t hurt, because she will never give Emma Swan the power to hurt her again. “This town still stands only because Henry is inside of it. And you think that I don’t love him?” Emma doesn’t respond to the threat, which had been stupid and will set Regina’s time with Henry back again, she’s sure. “You didn’t kiss him. When he was…after he ate that turnover. You didn’t even try to kiss him awake.” Regina had sat in the hospital room and wept, had felt the world falling apart around her, and no, she had not kissed Henry as Emma had. How arrogant it is, to believe that a kiss can work magic. How privileged it is for the laws of the world to break only for you. “I am no Charming,” she spits. “I don’t get beautiful fairytales, and I don’t expect them. Forgive me for being a realist.” Emma is silent. When Regina turns, Emma is watching her again, and there is a lingering something in her eyes. Not quite pity, not quite sorrow. But understanding, and Regina hates seeing it more than anything else. Hates the way that her heart leaps, and the next few breaths hitch and don’t emerge right.

[lynzishell]

So here we are

...again

[kyouka-supremacy]

Well.

[ferronickel]

Every time a new newsletter comes out I know I'm one of the few people who gets excited to find out the game won't be coming out any time soon. At this rate I might actually be able to finish Part 3 of Looking Glasses before it comes out, which would be ideal.

[artheresy]

I am stuck in such a rough place at the moment

Because like right now, I want to rant about how I view Dan Feng and Yingxing’s potential dynamic based on my interpretation of Dan Feng and Yingxing given the bits of characterization of them that we have

But at the exact same time, I’m literally planning the Yingxing lifespan fic that would include all of this information conveyed through events and dialogue within the fic that paint the picture I have in my mind of their dynamic

However, also I’m gonna be starting the fic from when Yingxing is a literal child being picked up by Huaiyan so getting to the point when I can finally show off that dynamic is going to take SO long and I’m so impatient

I don’t know what to do ToT I need to scream about them, I love them

[rollercoasterwords]

7 up :•)

@spindrifters + @drownedlove ty 4 the tags!!

rules: post 7 (or more) lines of a wip you've been working on

here are 7ish lines from the still-untitled werewolf fighting ring au aka. the only wip i have been working on lmao

“You don’t get to do that,” he spits, as if the words have gone sour on his tongue, “You don’t get to play Saint Sirius and start making decisions as if it’s ever been your goal to protect me. I am not your fucking pet, Black, and I’m not going to play your little game and roll over and let you save me. If you actually cared about me risking my life, you’d give me enough of the fucking money you have rotting in your Gringotts vault so that I wouldn’t have to. But you haven’t, and you won’t, because we both know that none of this is actually about me or my safety. It’s just about you wanting to know that there’s an animal out there more fucking trapped than you are!”

no-pressure tags: @steelycunt @mayescapade @mayzarbewithyou @fruity-individual @suspendedinbush @pretentiouswreckingball @twisted-tales-told if any of u would like to!! :•)

[pyrriax]

6, 12, 30 for the writing asks ^_^

6. What’s the last line you wrote?

Shaking its head in what seems like disbelief before meeting his eyes again, almost like it wants to say something before it makes a noise like a growl, "oh, you're one of those seraphs, aren't you. A star-eater. No wonder you act like you've lost your mind."

(ignore that that's a couple sentences, the Thought is important)

12. Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?

Oh yes! I outline my fics thoroughly. Though, I do allowed myself to deviate as much from the outline as I feel like when things go off the rails. Some snippets of planning from a couple fics & concepts:

My outlines are very... One for one. With some exceptions. I tend to basically write a very brief version of the fic and try to get the feelings and words right before I actually write it. This is... Also why it can and will take me a month to write a oneshot. I try to get things Right.

30. How much do you edit your fics?  Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

So! I edit them a bit? I edit while I work, but often I don't really touch anything I've already written unless it's something longer that might be taking a few months to get through. I think the fic I've edited the most is the prologue of Artificial Stars, which was originally a quickly written 2k oneshot into about 5k of actually decent fic.

Usually I don't edit to make something shorter/more concise, since I tend to only come up with more ways to bridge concepts when I go back to it. Also to be fair... There's usually no difference between first draft and final product. I cannot be asked to edit my fics after I write them, I just release them to the birds and pray for the best. (Unless I actually decide to show it to my beta reader in full instead of just sharing snippets as I... usually do.)

Conclusion: Rarely, those thangs are being given to the world as-is unless something is horrifically wrong with them

[blueseysyogurt]

what is in the air that is making writing the wip i forgot about for months suddenly so easy to continue right now? the words are floating out of me; i am simply a vessel for the ghost of some late writer at this point. because i genuinely can't believe that i'm actually writing AND that what i'm writing right now is actually good.

[hyuuukais]

I MISS WRITING SO BAD !!!!!

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

I feel accomplished because this week while I was at work during my free period, I wrote apparently about three pages worth of dialogue that I'd left in my WIP as "[insert more dialogue here later]" and I was able to tie it in to the rest of it (as in, what I'd already written after the "[insert more dialogue here"]), and while there are still places in my WIP where I was like "[add something else specific here?]" it means I'm done with that first...whatever it is, of my current WIP. (I still haven't decided if I'm writing just, like, individual parts of this WIP, or if they're chapters, or what. Most of them are super fucking long so I have NO IDEA what to call them. To call them chapters doesn't seem accurate given how long they are, so...parts?! I GUESS?! I'm not writing a novel, but I've also never written a novel before anyway and it shows.)