#but once I’m done with my current stuff I’ll do something with the three of them :3

[lavender-temult]

CANON LILIANA ART gosh her design is like. all of the things I enjoy drawing. like seriously all of them. her hair her vest her pants her ripped flowy coat the fabric around her waist and have i mentioned the vest? because i love the vest

[serasvictoria]

Title: The Hair

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve returns from a roadtrip with Eddie with longer hair than usual and it really, really works for you.

Word Count: 8849

Content warning: 18+ only. Minors dni. Smut. Oral sex (f receiving). Vaginal fingering. Hair pulling (that one's a given). Swearing. Teasing. Overstimulation. Masturbation (m receiving). Nicknames (not a Y/N in sight). Reader is kinda shy at times, because you know… Steve.

Notes: This fic has been based entirely on those pictures of Joe in Finalmente L'Alba. You know the ones that I’m talking about.

Beta read by @adrille88 ❤️ Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Robin’s cackle could be heard throughout the room. One hour in and she still thought that it was the funniest thing that she had ever seen.

“Yeah, Robs, I know.” Even though you couldn’t see Steve’s face from this angle, you could tell that he was rolling his eyes. “Very funny.”

“I can’t help it.” She collapses into another fit of giggles and slumps into Vickie’s side. “It’s just so long.”

And it was. Steve’s hair had gotten significantly longer during his time away and it had been the first thing that everyone present had commented on when they saw him during this little “welcome back” celebration.

Steve and Eddie had gone on a road trip when the latter had finally graduated, a small celebration for the boy who had ventured past state lines only once before when he had gone to Chicago, and they’d been gone for almost three months.

They kept in touch through postcards, most of which were stuck to Robin and Chrissy’s fridge with some of the ugliest kitschy magnets that you had ever seen, but none of the hastily scribbled messages on the cards ever mentioned anything about Steve’s current hair situation.

“Getting a haircut wasn’t that important,” Steve sighed, “but Jesus, I’ll get it done tomorrow if you keep acting like this.”

A harsh noise, a gasp of alarm, escapes from your lips and you don’t even notice that you’ve done it until you see that several eyes are on you. You try to save face by shrugging and turning your head away from Steve’s luscious locks, but when Eddie sniggers loudly you know that you had failed to make your small outburst look like it was nothing.

“Okay,” Robin says, eyebrows arched with obvious amusement. “Yeah, I guess you could do that, Stevie, but maybe hold off on it for a while? It might grow on me.”

“As long as you stop pulling my hair,” he mumbles under his breath, “it stopped being funny about an hour ago.”

“Yeah, to you,” Robin counters. “But not to me.”

Her hand reaches for his hair again, already grinning, not being particularly subtle about her intentions. Steve jerks away from her and suddenly they’re caught in something that would look like a minor scuffle to outsiders, but everyone that’s present knows that it’s more akin to a playful round of roughhousing between siblings.

“Careful, careful!” Chrissy calls out when they narrowly miss the second hand coffee table, almost spilling the drinks and snacks all over the floor. “It’s not like we can replace stuff if you guys break it.”

“Yeah, you ruffians, break it up.” Eddie materializes between the duo, coming to Chrissy’s rescue and making a T-shape with his hands to signify a time-out. Robin still manages to reach around him to give one final yank on Steve’s hair. “Fuck’s sake, Buckley. Don’t break the serious sanctity of the time-out.”

Robin barks out a laugh. “Oh, is that what it was? Thought that was the T of… the T of…”

While Robin was grappling to come up with a word that began with the letter T that could be applied to the current situation, you slipped into the small kitchen.

Maybe you would do better if you gave yourself a little time out from Steve’s, quite frankly mesmerizing, long hair.

It has been a few years since you had been this preoccupied with his hair. It was the main topic of conversation in high school after all, a source of desire and yes, envy for some, as well. Because a boy with hair that great? There were many girls that would have killed to have the same amount of volume and texture.

You were safely tucked into the desire camp however. How could you not be? Steve was gorgeous.

Is gorgeous.

There‘s no denying the fact that that stupid teenage crush that you had on him is still present. The only difference now is that your long friendship with Vickie has brought you a lot closer to Steve than you had ever been before.

When you hear movement behind you, you think that it’s her at first, coming to find you to gush about something funny that Robin had done or said in private, but when you hear someone who is distinctly male clear their throat instead, you realize that you have no such luck.

“What are you hiding out in here for?”

Your eyes go wide as saucers when you turn to face him and Steve actually holds his hands up in an attempt to look less threatening, making you aware of the fact that you must look terrified.

“N-nothing.” Your reaction was more down to being in extremely close vicinity to him, because of the size of the kitchen. There was barely any space between you already and he was only standing in the doorway. “It was just… a bit crowded?” You frown, because that wasn’t the word that you were looking for. “I mean, that’s not exactly what I-“

“Rowdy?” Steve offers up helpfully.

“Yes!” Your exclamation makes you cover your mouth with your hand, shocking yourself with your small outburst, and when Steve laughs, you can feel your cheeks heat up from the potential embarrassment. “But a fun rowdy? If that makes sense?”

“A bit,” he admits. “That’s just what me and Robin are like. We bring it out in each other I guess and the hair definitely doesn’t help.”

“N-no,” you stutter as your attention is brought to his hair once more and you can’t help but bite your bottom lip as you stare. “It’s definitely distracting.” You try to stop there, really you do, but you still end up blurting out, “In a good way.”

Groaning softly, you attempt to cover your entire face with your hand. If the ground could swallow you up right this instance that would be great. Naturally, that doesn’t happen, but when you peek through your fingers, you see that Steve hasn’t left. He’s merely standing there, arms crossed in front of his chest and his head is tilted to the side, his brow pensive as if he’s deep in thought.

Clearing your throat, you shake your head as if you could shake off the awkwardness from moments before. Your eyes dart to Steve’s hair again and his gaze turns more curious when he notices.

“Okay,” he finally says with raised eyebrows. “Interesting.”

“What is?”

“You,” he counters swiftly and you can see his brow furrow. He looks like he wants to slap himself. “I mean, your response. It’s pretty telling, you know.” Getting called out on your obvious attraction to him wasn’t something that you had been expecting, yet here you were, and Steve doesn’t look disgusted. If anything, he almost looks more interested. “And don’t try to deny it, I’m not an idiot.”

“Never thought you were.”

Sometimes people liked to point out Steve’s lack of intelligence, even back in high school because he didn’t really excel academically. The prevailing image of him being a dumb jock was ridiculous anyway. His grades were alright. Not top of the class, but he wasn’t at the bottom either.

They were above average most of the time, but when his grades dropped after Nancy broke up with him, everyone seemed to treat it as confirmation of what people had been saying behind his back all along. He still managed to pick himself up when exams rolled along, but it hadn’t helped sway opinion much.

It was an opinion that you did not share however.

Steve was smart. The information that interested him was just different. A conversation that he had with Lucas Sinclair on sports earlier only confirmed it.

Batting averages rolled off his tongue like they were nothing, even going as far as remembering what Wade Boggs’ average was back in ‘82. Name a Major League player and Steve would know exactly why he was better or worse than another player.

Same thing for basketball and ice hockey. You had even overheard him talking about volleyball once. Technically, it was women’s beach volleyball, but it still counted.

The only sports that Steve didn’t seem to care for were soccer and lacrosse. You highly suspected that the only reason that he didn’t like lacrosse was because his dad used to play it in college, apparently. That was a nice little piece of information that you had gained from Robin in Steve’s absence.

“True,” he smiles. “Don’t recall you ever saying anything about that.”

How he would know that was anybody’s guess, seeing how you must have been nothing more than another face in the school hallways, but you don’t question it. For a couple of seconds you even find yourself believing that he would have noticed you, however impossible that may seem.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Steve,” you smile back. The awkwardness has finally settled. Maybe you can actually be normal around him for once. “Anyway.” You turn back to the cans and bottles on the counter and make a sweeping gesture with your arm. “What’s your poison?”

“Think I’ll have-“

Steve treats your question as permission to step into the kitchen. Your breath catches in your throat, when he leans in closer, making you turn the front of your body to the counter. 

He eagerly takes advantage of this and puts his hand on your lower back. You feel his hand slide down, can feel his fingers flex as they settle right above the curve of your ass. His face comes into view next to you and he keeps his eyes on yours as his right hand reaches towards the cans blindly.

“-this one.”

“Apple Slice?” Tearing his eyes away from your face to look at the can that he was holding, his expression flashes to one of brief disappointment, which makes you snort in obvious amusement. He was clearly going for one of the cans of Blue Ribbon behind it, but that was not what he ended up with. You stifle a laugh and add, “Wow. Didn’t know you liked that stuff.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Steve opens the can and takes a sip, deciding to stick with his (accidental) choice. If it wasn’t for the fact that his nose crinkled in disgust, you might even have believed him. “I drink it all the time.”

“Sure you do.” You take the can of beer that he had his eye on and hold it out to him. “I’ll trade you.”

“Nah, I’ll pass.” He leans against the counter right next to where you’re standing. “I love this stuff, everybody knows that.”

“Sure they do,” you laugh. “That’s why you’ve been drinking it all night.”

“How would you even know what I’ve been drinking? You been keeping an eye on me?”

“What?” Your cheeks suddenly feel so hot that you swear that they’ve just caught fire. You hold the can against your cheek in the hopes of cooling yourself down, but the can’s lukewarm so it doesn’t help one bit. “No! Wh-why would I- I was just assuming, okay?”

The implication of his words were to poke fun at you, but you panicked all the same. You know what you wanted it to be, but there was no chance in hell that Steve Harrington was flirting with you.

No way. Impossible.

“Relax,” he replies, his voice softer suddenly as if he was doing his utmost not to spook you. “I was joking.”

You breathe a sigh of relief when he confirms it, calm setting in once more. Who knew that talking to Steve could have this effect on you. You would have liked to have been able to display a much cooler aura, but that persona seemed to have jumped out of you and ran for the hills the second that Steve came closer to you.

Not that you had ever been like that at all, but still.

“Do you want this or not?” you blurt out and you hold the can up just in case he thought that you were offering up something else. “Last chance.”

“Fine.” Steve takes it this time, your fingers brushing together when he trades cans with you. “But only because you were desperate.”

“I’m not-“ When Steve stifles a laugh, you turn your head in the opposite direction and find yourself staring at a grocery list that’s hanging on the old fridge. “Not funny.”

“Oh, come on. I couldn’t help myself, you’re real cute when you’re flustered.” You turn your entire body away from him, but you’re only doing it to hide your growing smile from him. “Seriously? You’re not talking to me?” You shake your head and he lets out a soft groan. “I was willing to give you my best puppy dog eyes, too.”

“Y-you were?”

“She speaks! But yes, I was.” You chew on your bottom lip to stop yourself from saying anything, because you don’t want to seem too eager. “In fact, I’m still going to do it. I think that you’ve earned it.”

When you finally turn around to face him once more, you’re subjected to the full force of his hazel eyes (looking every bit like he’d gotten private lessons from doe-eyed Eddie Munson), and his bottom lip is pushed out into a pout. He looks silly and adorable all at once.

“You look ridiculous,” you giggle. “Stop doing that.”

“No way,” he says with a smirk. “I can keep this up all night if I have to.”

“Really?” The prospect of being subjected to it all night makes your heart swell about three sizes inside your chest. “I’d like to see you try.”

Steve bats his eyelashes in quick succession a couple of times until you’re laughing and you swat at his chest in an attempt to make him stop. He instantly makes a grab for your hand and keeps it pressed against his sternum.

The distance between the two of you closes somewhat, but Steve still leaves some space on the off chance that you might want to pull away.

It’s quite possibly the last thing on your mind.

The only thing that you’re thinking of is what Steve’s hair would feel like if you ran your fingers through it and if you’d get a chance to-

“Oh.” Chrissy’s voice pulls you out of the trance that Steve has put you under and you take a step away from him immediately. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No,” you blurt out.

“Yes,” Steve says at the same time.

“I’d offer to leave, but I live here,” Chrissy giggles melodically. “Give me a sec and I’ll get out of your hair though,” she adds with a wink in your direction.

“Oh no, you don’t have to…” You’re suddenly embarrassed that Chrissy might think that something was happening (it was but you didn’t quite want to believe it just yet). The idea of the former cheerleader offering to leave what was essentially her shared kitchen was too much to bear. “I should- erm-“ Your eyes fall on Steve, who looks more amused than anything else. “Talk to you later.”

When you leave to rejoin your friends in the neighboring living room, you can just about make out another one of Chrissy’s amused giggles and Steve’s hushed apology, but you don’t stick around to hear what he’s apologizing for.

The pair enters the living room a few short minutes later, Steve’s eyes immediately find you before Dustin Henderson almost rugby tackles him and pulls him into a conversation that he had been having with Eddie.

Over the following hours whenever you would hazard a glance in Steve’s direction, you would find that he was looking at you already and he flashes you the sad puppy dog eyes without fail every single time. Whenever he makes you laugh, a smug smile materializes on his handsome face, as if he just achieved something grand.

You don’t find yourself alone with Steve again though, making you think that the small moment that you had before had passed and entirely ignoring that it was more down to yourself ensuring that there was no opportunity for him to get you alone. You were in no mood to make yourself look like a fool any further.

The hours tick by until it’s almost twelve midnight and as if on cue, Robin started yawning loudly and exaggeratedly, to make sure that everyone knew that she was getting tired.

All talk then turns to who had come by car and who could drop who off.

Somehow, in the discussion that followed it, it had been decided that you would ride with Steve. How this decision had been made was a mystery to you since you lived nowhere near him and lived only a few blocks from Nancy Wheeler, but when you tried to bring that up, you were told that there was no more room in Nancy’s car. Apparently.

The little glances that several people shared was something that you failed to notice entirely, but if you had noticed you might have figured out that the entire thing had been orchestrated very carefully by your friends, by Vickie and Robin in particular.

There was no amount of planning that could get you in the passenger seat next to Steve though, because Dustin had called shotgun from the moment that he had insisted that he ride with Steve’s car (and had dragged a bewildered Lucas along with him).

When you got in the backseat next to Lucas, you breathed a little sigh of relief that you were not sitting in the front with Steve however, half-knowing that you would end up being a stiff mess for the entire ride. The back was safer, darker, and above all, a little bit further away from Steve.

The rest of the ride is pleasant. Dustin keeps talking about everything and nothing to fill Steve in about what he missed while he was away, even though he must have heard most of it this evening already.

They act more like siblings than anything else, though if you had to be honest, you had seen Steve act similarly towards some of the other teenagers that were present which had only endeared him to you further.

When Lucas is dropped off first, he and Steve make promises to watch a football game together soon, and he drops Dustin off not long after. Similar promises are made, but they’re more of the ‘give us a ride to the arcade’ kind than anything else.

As soon as Dustin closes the door behind him, you’re shifting in the backseat, thinking it would be too odd to keep sitting there all alone. You can be brave for a short while, you’d only be in the car for a few minutes after all.

As soon as you’re moving to open the door, your hand jerks away from the handle when Steve starts driving again.

“Steve!” His eyes find yours in the rearview mirror, not so much saying ‘what?’ with his mouth, but with his eyes instead. “I was going to sit up front.”

“You don’t have to,” he answers simply.

“You’ll look like my driver like this,” you grumble slightly. “It’ll look weird.”

“Really? You’re worried about that?” Steve chuckles and you don’t really notice that he just took the wrong turn. “There’s hardly anyone around right now.”

“You don’t know that.” You lean forward in your seat, your hand coming down to rest on his chair, your fingers close to his shoulder. “There’s this old guy on my street that’s always keeping ta- hey. This isn’t the way to my house.”

“Just taking a little detour,” Steve grins, not willing to divulge any more than that.

The road that he’s currently on takes you out of town and he looks at your face out of the corner of his eye, catches how your eyes widen significantly when you realize where he’s taking you.

“To Lover’s Lake?”

Saying it out loud sounded insane.

Steve Harrington appeared to be taking you to Lover’s Lake.

You.

“Been there before?” It was a question that he knew he shouldn’t ask, but it was out of his mouth before he noticed it. “You don’t have t-“

“Once,” you reply honestly. You catch the little flash of jealousy in his eyes before the streetlights fade out completely and the car hits the dirt road. “With Pete Tanner.”

“No way,” Steve says with a slight mocking laugh. “He’s such a dick.”

“Tell me about it,” you scoff. “He spent about half an hour groping me and assuring me that he knew what he was doing, which he didn't, I might add! I gave him a handjob just to get him to stop. It was a disaster.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah, it was awful.” The experience had been so off putting that you had turned down every other offer of ‘hanging out’ there that you had gotten after it. This was your first time going back there in two years. “He tried to get me to go with him again the next week, but I shot him down so bad that he never talked to me again.”

“Well, unlike him, I do know what I’m doing.”

Steve didn’t even have to elaborate on that, the stories that floated around about him were pretty positive in regards to that aspect after all. It kind of stopped when his star dropped in his last year of high school, but it had done nothing to diminish his reputation. If you wanted to have a good time, Steve was your man.

“I know, Steve,” you say finally, your voice softer and decidedly more shy.

“You do?”

“Girls talk,” you clarify, even if he must have known where you had gotten it from. “It’s not just guys that talk about their conquests, the girls do, too. I’ve heard plenty of stories about you before.” You fidget with the hemline of your shirt just to have a reason to avert your eyes. “So. I know.”

“You don’t,” he chuckles. “You really don’t, but you’ll find out soon enough.”

You know that he’s right, because no amount of gossip would be able to prepare you for, well… him. 

“And for the record, I don’t talk so whatever happens here tonight stays between you and me.” When he cuts the engine, you look out the window to see that he had already parked the car near the shore of the lake. Steve unclasps his safety belt, turns in his seat and fully faces you. “Now, I’m going to get into the backseat with you and then I’m going to kiss you, because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“For how long?”

“How long am I going to kiss you for? As long as you’ll let me.”

“Damn,” you say under your breath and you can feel your body temperature rising in anticipation. “B-but I meant, how long have you wanted to kiss me for?”

Steve doesn’t answer your question immediately. Instead he switches the car radio on and turns the dial until he finds a radio station that’s to his liking. As soon as the sounds of soft rock start playing, he gets out of the front seat and opens the door that Lucas got out of a couple of minutes previous. He slides in next to you just as Roxy Music’s Avalon starts playing.

“A while,” he says simply whilst closing the door behind him. “You think I never noticed you or something?”

“I’m not exactly-“ You gesture with your hand and try your best to avoid saying the names of any of his exes, who you definitely don’t resemble in any way. “You know.”

“No, I don’t know.” He moves in closer until his thigh is pressing into yours. His left hand moves towards your face and you close your eyes when his fingertips skim over your jaw. “You’re pretty.” He says it very matter of factly, as if you should have been aware of it before he told you. “Thought you were pretty in high school, too.”

“Really?” You open your eyes and when you see that his face is a lot closer than you were expecting it to be, you jerk away and inadvertently knock the back of your head against the window. “Ow.”

“Christ, you’re like a baby deer,” he says with a laugh. “So skittish.”

“Sorry.” You rub the back of your skull automatically, but it doesn’t hurt much. “I can’t help it. I blame you.”

“What did I do?” He leans back against the seats, making his long hair flop over his forehead and partially covering his eyes. “I’m just trying to make out with the pretty girl that’s been making eyes at me all night.”

“Said I was sorry,” you whisper.

You don’t think that Steve has ever looked more gorgeous to you than he does in this exact moment and it’s scrambling your brain. You can feel your cheeks burn and your first reaction is to hide your face behind your hands. Your fingers are parted, however, so you can still see Steve’s face.

“No you’re not.”

“I am.” His fingers encircle your wrists and he slowly but gently pulls your hands away from your face. “Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” He brings your hands up to his mouth and your breath hitches when he presses his lips to the tips of your fingers. “Huh?”

“For being like this. For not being… confident.”

“You think you need to say sorry for that?” His mouth drags down over your digits towards your palms and you swear you can feel his tongue darting out against your skin. “It’s a fucking turn-on.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I’m not usually- not li-“ He presses a light kiss to your wrist and it makes your stomach flip. The rest of the sentence comes out with a slight groan. “I’m never this bad.”

“You were confident enough earlier.”

“This is different.”

And it was. Being in a car with Steve and there being no possibility of anyone interrupting you changes things significantly. Earlier in the kitchen, there were no expectations, it was just some gentle back-and-forth flirting, you know that now, as you tried to get a feel for one another.

There were definitely expectations now, a chance of things going much further than before, and it was filling your stomach with butterflies and your brain with cotton wool. Being this close to Steve was making it hard to have any coherent thoughts whatsoever.

“Different how?” He looks up at you then, pausing his trail of kisses. You can feel his thumbs on your wrists, making soothing circular motions while you try to find your words.

“I didn’t think that we were… you know… going to do anything.”

“What else do people do at Lover’s Lake?”

“I don’t know!” That was a lie, because you did know. Everyone in town knew what happened at Lover’s Lake and Skull Rock. Maybe if you had lived under a rock these last few years, you could have been completely ignorant to it, but you knew. “Maybe you wanted to take me stargazing.”

“Baby, I want to make you see stars, but I wasn’t planning on taking you outside.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “That’s the kinda thing that’s-“

“Making you shy?” He laughs then, knowing full well how to get you flustered. “You thought I didn’t know that? You’re one of the only girls that would blush and giggle whenever I subjected you to my whole ‘ocean of flavor’ bullshit at Scoops.”

“No way was I the only one.” Other girls giggled and twirled their hair at him, too. You saw them ahead of you in line and  found yourself unfairly hating the girls that were confident enough to write their phone numbers on a napkin so they could slide it over to him. “No way.”

“Okay, maybe not, but you were definitely the cutest one. You could barely look me in the eye and then Vickie would have to order for you instead. It was cute as hell.” You burst out laughing at his confession. “You okay now?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m going to kiss you silly now.” A small affirmative noise in the back of your throat is all that you manage to offer in terms of a reply when Steve leans in closer. He pauses when he’s close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your face. “Still okay?” You nod, but he’s not letting you off the hook that easily. “With words please.”

“I-I am,” you stutter, “I’m great.”

“You sure? Because you don’t look it,” he grins mischievously. He swipes a finger from the top of your spine up to your hairline. You could feel the heat there before, where some wisps of hair had stuck to your skin, and now he can feel it too. “You coming down with somethin’?”

The only thing that you manage to do is huff in annoyance, words of disagreement already on your tongue, threatening to spill out. There’s not much chance for them to do so, because he takes the opportunity to kiss you now.

It’s a light peck. Just to get things started. No more, no less. But you let out a content sigh all the same. It makes Steve smile again, the ease with which he can read you amusing him to no end.

You whine in displeasure, already impatient that Steve’s making you wait for more.

“Relax, baby,” he breathes against your parted lips, “I was only teasing.”

He starts kissing you in earnest a split second later. And boy, can Steve Harrington kiss.

You had heard the stories, plenty of them, all of them overheard as other girls tried to outdo their friends, but none of their descriptions lived up to the real thing.

Feeling his lips on yours is making you tingle, as if electricity is coursing through him and it’s literally making sparks fly whenever he kisses you. When you feel his hand on your neck, his thumb on the corner of your jaw and his pinkie on your collar bone, it makes your skin prickle there, too.

His tongue swipes over the crease of your mouth and he does it again when you don’t grant him access quickly enough. It makes you feel better that Steve is just as impatient as you seem to be.

When his tongue finally delves into your mouth, you find that he tastes like the beer that he had earlier, but more surprising are the citrus undertones, the ones that are also sticking to his skin whenever you breathe in deeply through your nose. You can practically feel the oranges explode on your lips and the juices penetrate your mouth.

You wonder how much of that is down to your imagination or if Steve does indeed taste faintly of ripe oranges.

He’s blissfully unaware as to what’s going through your mind as your tongues slide over each other. All that he knows is that he wants more than what you’re offering him right now.

Your lips part and he presses his forehead against yours. You’re breathing heavily and you swallow hard enough for him to hear it. Your exhales intermingle with the hot air that’s coming from him, you feel it curl over your lips and spread outward over your cheeks.

Steve nudges the tip of his nose against yours and you both huff a laugh. You wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him like he’s a lifeline. He says nothing about it, but merely keeps looking at you and waits for your breathing to even out.

“Hey,” he finally says, “you still okay?”

“Perfect.” You tilt your chin up until your lips touch again and you murmur against his mouth, “You got me all lightheaded.”

“From a kiss?” When you nod, he chuckles softly. “That’s nothing.”

You’re a little bit more prepared when he dives back in again, your lips crashing back into each other as he hits you full force. You can’t get enough of him and it feels like the feeling is very much mutual.

Confidence floods back into you, all because you’re with him right now, because he seems to have picked you. He noticed you, well before this night apparently, and it was making you more bold, more powerful.

You start pushing back a bit, your teeth nipping at his lips, your tongue pushing into his mouth until you have him going all breathless instead. You can feel him shudder when you press your hand against his stomach, the muscles twitching under your palm.

Not wanting to be outdone, Steve takes back control a little by putting his hands on your hips and sliding them to the back until he’s grabbing two handfuls of your ass. You squeak when he lifts you up from the seat, making you plant your hands against the roof of the car, head tilting backwards and opening up your neck which he immediately latches on to with his lips.

“Ah.” Your head is spinning, already drunk on him and the way that he’s leaving gentle kisses on the column of your throat definitely isn’t helping. When he starts sucking on your pulse point, you moan his name, “Steve.”

“Right there?” You heave a sigh when he does it again and soon he’s putting more suction on your skin as if he’s trying to mark you. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Yeah, I like it.”

“Thought so,” he says in between open mouthed kisses. “Love those noises you’re making, baby. You gonna make more of them for me?”

“If you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

“Wouldn’t be able to stop anyway,” you pant in reply. “Fuck, Steve.”

“Like that,” he says, voice sounding needy and heated. “Just like that.”

Nothing but a string of whines tumble from your lips as Steve continues his assault on your neck, but his mouth keeps moving down lower until it hits the collar of your shirt. He pulls it down as far as it can go so he can lick the dip above your sternum before veering outward to the parts of your collarbones that he managed to uncover.

Your hips are grinding against nothing at all, desperately needing some kind of friction, hoping that Steve will take the hint since his hands are still on your ass and nothing seems to be able to make them move.

When they finally shift, you breathe a sigh of relief, because you can finally feel his long fingers on the front of your body, gliding up your torso until they’re touching the underwire of your bra… where they then come to a complete standstill again.

The constant teasing is really starting to get to you. You’re so ridiculously hot for the guy that you swear you’ll scorch your way from the leather upholstery all the way down to the chassis.

It would appear that Steve is able to tell that you’re seconds away from reaching your limit however.

Your back is pushed against the door until there’s nothing left for you to do but sit in the seat sideways facing him. Steve follows you and soon he’s sitting on his knees between your parted legs. His hands are on your knees and he slides them down the inside of your denim clad thighs, fingers dancing over the inside seam, down towards where you’re searing hot for him.

Your hips push up instinctively, only to feel his digits move upwards to your hips, missing where you wanted to feel them the most completely.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, “not yet.”

When you pout, he chuckles and you highly suspect that he likes seeing you like that a little bit too much, seeing how something like this has happened a couple of times already.

Sweet merciful release comes when he finally slides his hands under your shirt and cups your breasts through the rather plain white bra that you’re wearing. He pulls the cotton cups down and you arch your back into his palms when you feel his warm skin against yours.

“Baby, could you-“ Before he could finish his sentence, you were already leaning forward, grabbing the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it into the front seat. “Someone’s eager,” he grins as he gets his first view at your (almost) bare chest. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

You grab at his shoulders, tugging on his shirt, but he surges forward to smash his lips into yours first before whipping his shirt off with the same level of eagerness as you had taken off yours. His shirt joins yours in the front, hanging over the steering wheel.

Your hand shakes slightly when you reach for him, the palm of your hand connecting with his bare chest. You had seen him like this plenty of times when he was still the swim team captain, like so many other girls that came to cheer him on during high school, but you had never thought that you would be able to touch him like this.

There’s barely enough time for you to run your hand from his clavicle down to the top of his jeans before he kisses you hungrily again. He barely allows you time to breathe and every time that your lips part, you’re taking in large gulps of air, almost forgetting to breathe entirely if it wasn’t for your burning lungs alerting you to the fact that air was desperately needed.

“Steve,” you whine when his chest hair rubs against your hardened nipples.

“I know, baby,” he replies and before you know it, his hands are on your jeans, undoing the button and tugging them down your legs. Your underwear comes along with them, but you could care less. When he realizes that your lower half is bare, his eyes widen a fraction, barely visible from the faint green glow of his car stereo. “Let me look at you. All of you.”

Taking the hint, you reach around your back to take your bra off and playfully throw it right at him. He brushes it off the leather seat and it slides down to the floor, where you think you’ll leave it when he drops you off at the end of the night, just to give him something to remember you by.

You put your hands on your knees and slowly start pulling your legs apart, baring yourself to him completely. Steve’s eyes drop to the apex of your thighs, his hunger for you plain to see on his face, even in the mostly dark car.

One leg slips off the bench and you push the other one up, hooking your ankle over the headrest. You sigh, contented and warmed by his gaze, and your hands glide over your thighs, until they come to a stop on the lower part of your belly.

“Well, fuck,” Steve finally growls. “Pretty as a picture.”

Rushing forward, he’s on top of you in a flash, lips smashed together and his hands massaging your tits. His hips undulate against yours, the zipper of his fly catching your clit until you’re gasping and sighing into his mouth. You wrap your legs around his hips, the balls of your feet digging into his ass, pulling him closer into you until you’re sure that you must have soaked through the thick fabric of his jeans.

It’s embarrassing how fast you come like this, with his pants still on, but when Steve leans his forehead against yours so you can just make out his winning smile, you know that this was probably his intention all along.

His lips hit the corner of your mouth, then your chin, and then he starts kissing a trail down your body that’s still glowing until you feel his tongue circling one of your nipples before he takes it into his mouth and sucks on it.

Your hands shoot to the back of his head, your fingers tangling through the strands of his hair, and making sure he stays right where he is. He obliges, not moving until you pull him to your other breast, where he does the exact same thing.

Steve moves back and forth like this for a while until you can feel his fingers touching your clit which makes you pull on his hair harder than you had intended.

But it doesn’t seem to be nearly hard enough for Steve.

“Come on, baby. Pull,” he husks against your skin. You twist your fingers through the thick strands and do as he asks, but it’s still not good enough. “That’s all you got? Harder.”

Grabbing a handful of his hair, you pull so hard that his cheek knocks into one of your breasts. You can feel the corner of his mouth that’s pressed against your skin curl up into a smile, obviously pleased. It makes you repeat the motion, only this time you pull him to the side until his chin is resting on your sternum.

“You want to guide me?” His hands slip underneath your thighs before you even manage to nod, fingers digging into your flesh. “Do it. I dare you.”

“Think that I won’t?”

“Oh no, I know you will,” he grins.

“You want me to tell you what to do?”

“You could. I might even listen.” Despite what he says, it’s painstakingly clear that he will do whatever you tell him to do. “Just figured that it would be more fun if you’d just yank on my hair until my lips are on your pussy.”

Shifting your hand to the top of his head, you push him down. His tongue darts out of his mouth and the tip of it touches your heated skin, creating a path as he’s on his way down.

When you can feel his breath hit your mound, you stop, just to see what he would do. Steve doesn’t move, but simply hovers above you, completely still and waiting for you to guide him the last few inches.

The last push is rough, your impatience showing once more, and now he’s completely level with your cunt. Whenever he exhales through his nose, you can feel it hitting your center and since his breath is a lot cooler than the heat that’s burning between your thighs, he makes you squirm with every outward breath.

The wait is agonizing and since he wanted you to be his guide, you briefly wonder whether you should just grab a handful of his hair and push his face down, but he takes you completely by surprise by spitting on you instead.

The loud moan that bursts from your lips surprises you both. You can feel his saliva dripping down and mixing with your own fluids.

“You like that?” He breathes against your thigh when he hazards a glance to look up at your face.  “Feel good?”

“Yeah,” you moan, “real good. Don’t stop, Steve.”

“I won’t.” He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit with the flat of his tongue and your hips jerk upwards to chase his mouth when his tongue stops making contact with you. “I’ll give you what you want. Promise.”

“Counting on it.”

Steve practically dives in and devours you. His tongue hits all the right places, the tip of his nose making contact with your swollen clit whenever his mouth dips further down.

What he can do with his mouth is damn near sinful. He’s so good at eating you out that he has reduced you to nothing but sharp yelps and loud mewls in a matter of seconds.

He’s licking up every drop of your juices like a man starved, like you’re the never-ending dessert of a three course dinner, something that keeps regenerating and keeps making him hungry for more.

The pads of two of his fingers prod at your entrance, applying the slightest amount of pressure, just to make you aware of what he’s about to do, which provides a sharp contrast to the speed with which his tongue is batting at your clit.

“Please, Steve,” you cry out, begging already. “Need it so bad.”

There’s no reply, save from the slow slide of his fingers into your entrance. Your walls constrict them instantly, sucking them in deeper. Your back arches, pushing yourself away from the door, until his free hand presses down on your stomach to make sure you can’t move.

Since you can’t do much else, you grab at his hair and yank harder than before, until he moans against you and rams his fingers into you as far as they can go. He curls them up against your sweet spot until you’re gasping for air, jolts of electricity coursing from your cunt throughout your body. You can feel it all the way down to the tips of your curling toes.

“Oh, Steve,” you gasp when he covers your clit with his lips and sucks. Your thighs clench together, gripping his head between them. It makes him moan loudly and the added vibrations are what ultimately push you over the edge. “Ohgodohgodohhhh- Steve!”

Your climax hits you so suddenly that it’s almost as if Steve’s car just got hit by a truck and you’re seconds away from smashing straight through the windshield. You’re not, of course, but Steve makes you come so hard that it’s almost too easy to imagine.

Despite the fact that he’s just given you an earth-shattering climax, he’s still going, but you barely notice at first. You’re practically floating, soaring all the way up in seventh heaven, miles above the car, completely elsewhere as the aftershocks still pulsate through your body.

The muscles in your thighs are still shaking, Steve can feel them clench and unclench under his tight grip as he keeps them wide open. Your stomach keeps tightening as the waves of pleasure keep coming, your brain all fuzzy like you’ve just spent most of your evening getting high.

By the time that your head’s finally clear, in the process of shaking off the indescribable buzz, you become aware of what he’s doing, what he's still doing.

The sounds of pleasure quickly change to overstimulated whines instead. You try to push him away, but your muscles are made of jelly and he only proceeds to grip your thighs tighter, keeping them apart with so much force that you fear you’ll have neat little bruises where his fingers were digging into your flesh come morning.

The more noise you make, literally begging him to stop now because “you can’t” does nothing to stop him. If anything, it only makes him go at you harder, pushing his tongue as far into your quivering channel as he can, until you’re crying his name.

“Steve, Steve, Steveeeeee…”

Your voice breaks and you start keening, your fingers attempting to push him away and keep him right where he is at the same time. You swear that you can feel him smile against your abused pussy, but you’re so out of it that you can’t be entirely sure.

Steve manages to pull another climax out of you, tears it out of you kicking and screaming, dragging it out onto the surface after he had been digging deep for it, knowing full well that you had another one left in you.

This time, he lets you go and you crumple into the door, chest heaving and your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. You’re past speech, your throat dry as parchment because you couldn’t stop chanting his name as Steve made your insides burn hotter than a forest fire.

Through blurry vision, you can just about make out that Steve sits down next to you, but you can feel one of his hands on your ankle, fingers lightly wrapped around it and his thumb making the same circular motions as earlier while you come down from your high.

When you look up, the roof of the car appears to be swimming with stars. You can still see them behind your eyelids when you squeeze your eyes shut. Steve gave you a climax of such epic proportions that you don’t even have to tilt your head back to be able to look out the window to see the clear sky, which would no doubt be dotted with very real twinkling stars.

Steve had no idea that it was one of your favorite things to do on a cloudless night. He actually brought the night sky into the car, just like he said he would, and it made you smile to yourself.

“What are you smiling about?” Upon hearing his voice, you stop looking up and you blink a few times to clear your vision before you look at him. “Hm?”

“Nothing,” you reply, because admitting to what had happened seemed silly somehow.

“Didn’t look like nothing.” You can tell that he wants to press on so you sit up, press yourself against his side, lean your head against his shoulder and rest your hand on his hip. “Don’t want to talk, huh?”

“Don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admit.

“That good?”

“Steve, I think that the words ‘you rocked my world’ don’t even do it justice, even if that’s exactly what happened.”

“Cheesy,” he laughs and you can feel his lips on the crown of your head. “Good thing that I like cheesy.”

The two of you sit like this for a short while and you listen to his steady breathing. You desperately want to repay the favor, want to make Steve see the same stars as you did, and he seems to sense it.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he says in a low voice, “so quit breaking your pretty little head over it.”

“I know,” you reply. “But I want to.”

“Okay.”

His answer is short and simple, making it perfectly clear that there are no expectations. He’d take you home if you asked him to, but you would much rather stay here. You don’t want to go anywhere else just yet.

You start out slow, by kissing his upper arm and then his shoulder. Moving to sit on your knees for better access, your lips move from his neck until you’re peppering kisses all along his jaw. Steve doesn’t move, he merely watches you and lets you do whatever you want.

Reaching for his jaw, you turn his head in your direction so you can kiss him full on the lips. He plays along perfectly, allowing you to give him languid kisses, with his eyes wide open so he can keep following your every move.

Your hand moves from his neck down over his chest, skimming over his skin, until your fingers reach the top of his jeans. You pop the button with ease, pull down the zip, and before he knows it, you’ve slipped your hand inside so you can palm his length over his boxer shorts.

“I was going to tell you to take as long as you need, but if you keep touching me like that-” His sentence ends abruptly and with a sharp hiss, all because you squeezed him a little. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” you giggle and proceed to do it once more. You can feel his cock growing more firm against your palm. “Couldn’t help it.”

“Oh really?” he says, knowing you were teasing. You laugh again and this time he manhandles you until you’re laying underneath him. You eagerly pull his jeans down until they’re pulled underneath his ass. Your eyes drift down to his boxers and you can literally see him straining away against the cotton fabric. “I think that this is going to be a long night, honey.”

“Oh no.” Reaching for him one more time, you find him hard as a rock. There’s only one final cloth barrier between you now and soon that too will be gone. “Whatever shall I do?”

“Little brat,” he groans right before you finally push his boxers down. You finally look down, curious, and your eyes nearly roll out of your skull when you catch sight of his cock. Your hand moves slowly, tentative, until your fingers touch his velvety shaft. “A very long night,” he promises with a soft moan.

“I sure hope so,” you whisper back. “I could stay out all night.”

“Tempting,” Steve replies. He holds himself up with his arm and it makes his long hair hang in your face like a curtain.

It makes a grin appear on your lips, making you think back to how this started, with you looking at his long hair across the room and trying to stop yourself from staring. You can’t stop looking at it now, at those silky strands and how they sway back and forth, tickling your face, clinging to your damp forehead, and you don’t know if you could ever stop staring.

You don’t want to stop staring. Not for tonight at least. And for however long he’ll allow you to keep looking at him after this night…

[theemporium]

could you do a stiles x siren reader where they are studying but end up having sex and once they finish the reader is a bit scared because she thinks stiles only had sex with her because of how alluring she is but turns out that he genuinely likes her because she’s a good person! being a siren is a plus in his book 😘😘

“When will I ever need this in my life?”

Stiles lifted his head from his book, peeking at the page you were currently staring at and let out a snort. “Probably never.” 

“So why do I have to learn it?” you whined, head falling to rest on the textbook that was starting to become the cause of your headache. 

You had been struggling with a few of your classes. In between dealing with splitting time between being on land and in water, helping fight whatever supernatural problem had lingered into Beacon Hills and getting a somewhat normal sleep schedule—it had been hard to keep up with classes, let alone do well in them. 

Stiles had been kind enough to offer some help, thus leading to the odd studying sessions you two planned in between your hectic schedules. But it still felt a bit redundant to learn how to calculate the volume of a cone when you had just spent the night before stopping a sacrificial cult take over Beacon Hills.

“The unfortunate way of the world,” Stiles said with a sigh before reaching for the textbook you were using as a pillow, and instead throwing it on the floor beside his own stuff. “Let’s take a break.” 

“I need a nap,” you grumbled, words slightly muffled before you turned your head to look at the boy. Your eyes widened a little when you realised how close he was. 

“A nap sounds good to me,” he murmured with a soft smile.

“I thought you’d be too restless for a nap,” you teased lightly. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Funny one.” 

“I’m hilarious, I know,” you grinned back, only for your smile to damper slightly when he reached out to push some hair behind your ear. You could practically feel your cheeks burning.

“You can take a nap if you want to,” he said in a soft voice. “I’ll just find something else to do in the meantime.” And you hated the way his sincerity choked you, making your chest feel warm and tight all at once. 

You surprised yourself when you leaned forward, pressing your lips against his for a split few seconds before you pulled away, your brain seeming to catch up with you. “I’m so sorry–” 

Stiles didn’t give you a chance to continue before he was kissing you again, a lot more sure and passionate than yours had been and you couldn’t help but sink into the kiss. You didn’t even fight him as he rolled you onto your back, crawling on top of you as his hands began to wander under the fabric of the hoodie you had been wearing. 

But there was a voice in the back of your head, screaming and yelling and ruining the feeling of his fingers sliding along your sides. 

“Stiles, wait,” you whispered against his lips, eyes closed when the boy pulled away. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed in concern as his hand gently cupped your cheek. 

“I—” but you paused, unsure how to even say the words screaming in your head. Because you knew how this went, you knew that nobody was able to resist the pull of the allure and even if you didn’t mean to use it, it happened. 

You knew that the second the deed was done, he would be snapped out of it and you didn’t think you could handle Stiles being pissed at you for being caught in the allure. 

“We shouldn’t,” you whispered, unable to bring yourself to look at him. “You’ll regret it.” 

Stiles frowned. “Why would I?” 

“It’s the allure, Stiles,” you sighed as you finally glanced up at him. “It’s making you want to do things you might not realise you don’t want to do.” 

Stiles blinked before a smile grew on his face, unable to hold back the laugh that was threatening to escape. “Yeah, because the three year crush I have on you has nothing to do with it.” 

Your eyes widened. “What?” 

“Baby, trust me when I say, doing this—” he paused as he gestured between you two. “Has nothing to do with your powers or you being a siren, I promise.” 

“Stiles—”

“It’s got everything to do with the fact I think you’re beautiful inside and out,” he murmured shyly as he flashed you a smile. “And that I’ve been practically obsessed with you for ages. Ask anyone really, especially Scott. He would tell you just how—”

You leaned up to press your lips against his, smiling as the boy quickly melted into the kiss. 

“You like me for me?” you whispered against his lips.

“I like you for you, baby,” he whispered back.

You smiled against his lips before pushing him to sit up, giving yourself the space you needed to pull your hoodie over your head with your t-shirt quickly following. You laid there, sprawled across his bed with just your shorts and bra on, and it took everything in his power to not come there and then. 

“Shit,” he hissed out. “This is way better than my dreams. Like, way way better.” 

You raised your brows. “You dream about me, Stilinski?” 

“All the time.” 

“And what did you do to me in those dreams?” you asked as you trailed your fingers along the hem of his shirt, tugging on it when you wanted him to take it off and he quickly followed the demand. 

“I, uh,” Stiles’ cheeks burned hot. “Well, I…uh…” 

“Show me, Stiles,” you whispered as you sat up, pressing soft kisses along his bare chest. “Show me what you did in your fantasies.” 

“Fuck,” he groaned under his breath.

.

[nevertheless-moving]

The Demon of Yunmeng Part Four

Part One — Part Three

“…What.”

“I want your permission to ask Wen Ning to help me at the trial — I swear if either of you doesn’t want to then I’ll figure out something else, but the only plan I can think of that might work is if I pretend to be a cutsleeve, and, ah, I think I mentioned that I’m not super popular with my old friends right now, so he’s kindof my only option."

He peeked his head up and grinned his best, most charming smile, but Wen Qing just closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

“That,” she said. “Is a terrible plan.”

“I admit it’s not my best.” he sat back on his heels, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But bear with me! If I can just create enough doubt that maybe the stories aren’t true, then the women might confess that they’re being bribed or threatened or that now they see me up close they can’t be sure it was actually me who attacked, you know? Yu Xiang said she couldn’t see anything, so, well…there’s a chance that people will believe it, isn’t there?”

His tone started to edge on desperation the longer she looked at him with a pinched expression. “People love to believe crazy stuff about me!" he said, throwing his hands in the air. "You have to have guessed there’s all sorts of rumors about why I actually helped you, this is just — shifting those around a little."

She stared at him longer.

“Three quarters of the cultivators are just going to be there for entertainment,” he said, even more defensively, “Once people latch on to a story that's scandalous or interesting — 'The Demon of Yunmeng turns out to be a cutsleeve' — come on, it could work!”

“Wei Wuxian,” she said slowly. “Even if everyone immediately accepts that the two of you are passionately in love, there is absolutely no way on Earth that it will make you look like less of a degenerate predator. You do realize that, right?”

“Of course it would!” he argued, offended.

“My brother stutters. His cultivation is low. He is permanently disabled.”

“He could punch through a boulder with that brace I made him,” he said petulantly.

“If he didn’t care about moving the next week, sure. That’s not the point. " She made a frustrated noise, waving her arm sharply. "It’s about the image. You and I both very well know that my brother has a spine of iron. He lied to the core melting hand himself to save a stranger. He stood up to Jin Zixun, despite being in chains and half beaten to death. None of that matters — he looks like a victim. He is currently famous in the cultivation world for being a victim. He would just make you seem even worse — someone else you’d taken advantage of.”

“I…okay, but he’s still a man. No one would question that.”

“Are you serious right now? You do know people can have sex with men and women, right? There’s not a hard and fast rule that it’s only ever one or the other.”

Wei Wuxian boggled in her direction. “That… that doesn’t sound right. Are you sure? Both? I’ve never heard — no one’s ever even hinted that…”

“Ancestors be kind,” she said, pressing her palms to her eyes. “This is actually your plan. This is actually why you rode all the way here.”

“I’ve never heard of someone liking both,” he said defensively.

“And how much do you actually talk about cutsleeve sex with your friends?" Wen Qing said, condescending. "Your friends who won’t associate with you anymore?”

“…Has anyone ever told you that you can be very mean sometimes?”

“Yes. And yes I am sure. And no, it’s not a secret. I can probably find a fucking woodcutting or spring book,  if you want proof. While I’m sure some people share your… understanding, there will be plenty who will see this as extra evidence of your endless depraved lust."

He gave up on kneeling properly, sprawling out on the floor.

“If I’m not cut into pieces until I die or being hunted by thousands of cultivator this time next month then I would love to trade porn with you,” he said glumly. “That actually sounds really fun, why haven’t we done that before? I bet there’s all sorts of weird stuff written down as ‘medically recommended dual cultivation.’”

She exhaled heavily. “Maybe…maybe your plan could work if you found someone else, and claimed to exclusively want to be the receiving partner? Your face is probably thick enough for that, and it would have a similar 'why would anyone claim it if it wasn't true' justification as the accusations against you.”

He rolled over, propping his chin up on his hands to look at her.

“Receiving?” He asked. “What like, the guy who, um, takes the other guy in his mouth?” he felt his face heat a little. She was a doctor, and also Wen Qing, a woman who had already seen him more naked than most people ever physically get, but she was still a woman, and it was starting to feel a little weird to talk about this stuff with her.

He powered through. Clearly she knew things he didn’t. “Isn’t that a little unfair? Wouldn’t you, I don’t know, take turns? In the spring books between men and women it always seems unfair when there’s just one person doing all the work.”

Somehow, the look on her face grew even more condescending. “Your plan was to pretend to be a rabbit — possibly for the rest of your life — and you don’t even know how two men have sex?”

“My life has gone in unexpected directions since the last time I went shopping for pornography,” he said, sarcasm coming out with slightly more bite then he intended. He coughed. “Look, If that’s not what you mean then…”

“Anally," Wen Qing said impatiently. “I was referring to sex between men in which one party's penis goes into the other’s anus — I’m struggling to understand how you’ve never heard of this — isn’t it a common wartime joke? A sixteen year old cries after killing someone so everyone says they might as well bend over for a real man ?”

“Ooohhh…that’s what that…” A few overheard conversations clicked into place. He felt it wasn't entirely his fault he had been mostly left out of friendly fireside chats during the sunshot campaign.

“But —“ he struggled to imagine it, resisting the urge to reach into his trousers and check the size of his own asshole. “There’s no way anything like that could possibly fit. You’ve got to be messing with me, or someone was messing with you.”

“When I first started my medical cultivation training,” she said, eyes unfocusing slightly, “My Shizun sat me down and told me that being a doctor would involve a lot less finding a magical perfect herb and saving the day then you would expect, and a lot more pulling objects out of unlikely places. And if I wasn’t prepared to deal with that, I should probably quit.”

“And—“

“And she was right. It’s a muscle. It can stretch like any other muscle.” She paused. “Certain salves and oils are highly advisable. And cleaning yourself before and after is very important.”

“Wow,” Wei Wuxian said wonderingly. “You learn something new every day. I guess it’s got to feel good, right? If people are shoving…” he looked at her questioningly.

She grimaced. “Bottles and jars are popular, and also a terrible idea. I knew a doctor who actually lost someone to infection that way— they clenched down and the shards—“

“Ugh,” he winced.

“Yes. Vegetables are… generally acceptable."

"Vegetables?" Wei Wuxian said, delighted.

"—But it can be dangerous if something gets lost, so it's important to have a firm grip — I know there are certain merchants who deal in replica male genitalia specifically, with flared bases —“

 “Those I’ve seen, but I always figured they were for women!” He barked out a laugh then groaned. “Damn, I really am ignorant. I probably wouldn’t have been able to pull this off, even if it was good idea.”

“It’s not your worst plan,” she offered. 

“Thanks.”

“Really,” she said thoughtfully. “It… could work, maybe — with a different man, who could match you in terms of power.”

He didn’t bother saying that there were few men who met that description, and he lacked any other friends who would do such a thing for him anyway. Instead, he let his head fall from his hands, pressing his face to the floorboards with a groan.

Several moments of silence passed before being interrupted by a knock at the door. He didn’t bother getting up as Wen Qing sighed, then stepped past him.

He heard the door open. “Ah, Lan Er Gongzi,” she said. “Please, come in — allow me to prepare more tea.”

Wei Wuxian swore softly to himself, then shifted as casually as possible to a slightly more graceful side sprawl, propping his head up on his hands as Lan Wangji’s perfectly white robes and perfectly black boots came into view.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, lifting his gaze up the perfectly upright body to finally meet startlingly golden eyes.

Wei Wuxian's greeting smile was slightly more reserved than what he had given Wen Qing earlier. They had never spoken of the rumors while they were growing — the Lan sect of course prohibited gossip. But things had grown from gossip to outright accusation at this point…

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji replied. His expression was as hard to read as ever, but there was some emotion there. Anger, maybe?

The sour feeling returned to Wei Wuxian’s stomach. Of course, as much as it had felt like their relationship was improving, of course Lan Zhan would be all to prepared to believe the worst of a Demonic Cultivator.

He stood up. “If you’re sure to protect Wen Gongzi’s virtue,” he said bitterly. “You have nothing to fear. She could paralyze me with needles before I had a chance to do anything… unseemly.”

Lan Wanjii’s brow furrowed. “Wei Ying.” he said. “Do not speak unchastely of others.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. It was such a Lan Zhan reply. “Relax, I’m going, you won’t have to —“

“You’re not going anywhere,” Wen Qing said tersely. “Now sit down in a chair like a normal person.”

He looked at her in betrayal. “I won’t leave town,” he said. “I was just going to go visit with Popo, until your guest had departed. Unless of course he’s concerned for her as well—“

“Sit,” she ordered.

He sat down.

“Lan-er gongzi,” she said, far more politely. “If you would join us.”

Lan Wangii also sat down.

Wei Wuxian pointedly did not look in his direction.

"Wuxian," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Just ask him."

He startled. Surely she didn't mean...

"Ask him what you asked me when you came in," she ordered.

He really didn't want to. But he had to know, so he swallowed hard, forcing himself to face his greater detractor head on. Golden eyes burned as they often did. Lan Wangji couldn't do anything without doing so with one hundred percent effort — that included looking at someone.

"Do you believe it?" Wei Wuxian finally blurted out. "The rumors about me? The accusations? The... the thing they're holding a whole fucking conference about."

Lan Zhan stared at him.

"No," he finally said, after a pause that felt longer than it was.

Wei Wuxian tried to ignore the immediate sense of relief and gratitude that washed over him. He surely didn't care that much about the opinion of Lan Zhan, a man who had never offered him a hint of warmth in his life?

The relief immediately slipped into suspicion. "Why not?" he demanded. "Aren't you always calling me an irredeemably evil demonic cultivator?"

The space between Lan Wangji's eyebrow folded in. "No."

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. "Fine, aren't you always calling me a currently evil, actively choosing not be redeemed demonic cultivator?"

"Never called you evil."

"Wha — what the fuck, are you splitting hairs right now? Wicked, unrighteous, you know what I —"

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji interrupted, definitely looking angry now. "I have not. Your path is wicked."

"I..." his eyes started burning, and anger welled up alongside. "What's the fucking —"

A cup slammed down on the table front of him.

"No yelling in my office," Wen Qing said.

"Wen Qing —"

"Drink your tea and let Hunguang-Jun say his piece. Actually, both of you drink your tea, then Lan Wangji talks, then Wei Wuxian."

Wei Wuxian looked at the other man, expecting him to protest being ordered around, or at least to silently frown and then not comply, but he just nodded, and reached for the cup, face mostly smooth again.

Wei Wuxian huffed, then drank the tea. It was annoyingly good.

When both of their cups were empty (fuck Lan Zhan is taking his time). He leaned back disrespectfully, hopefully masking the nerves thrumming through his body, staring at Lan Zhan with an expression that was probably failing to come across as bored.

Lan Wangji took a breath, then rotated slightly in his seat, such that he was at an equal partial angle to both Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing.

"I do not believe the accusations. Wei Ying would not do such things. He may use wicked tricks, he may lose sight of the righteous path. But he has always pursued justice, ultimately."

He paused, but Wei Ying didn't try to interject. His heart was thrumming too hard in his chest, and there was a rushing sound in his ears.

Lan Wangji continued. "Furthermore, the final night of the wedding feasting, there were Jin attendants, filling his cups specifically. He grew inebriated faster than I thought normal, though at the time I attributed it to the strength of the wine. I later learned the feasting wine was not particularly strong, leading me to suspect he was served something different. When he began losing consciousness, a cultivator I did not recognize made to escort him away. I did not trust this, so I intervened, escorting Wei Ying to his rooms myself. I made sure he properly warded the room from intrusion, after which he immediately collapsed. I do not believe he was in a state to commit heinous deeds, even if he had wanted to. Furthermore, when I exited his chambers there were servants lingering unnecessarily. They left without sufficient explanation when I confronted them. I suspected a plot against him, perhaps an attempt to steal the Ying Tiger Talley, but not what happened."

He paused, turning to look Wei Wuxian in the eyes. "I am sorry. I should have spoken sooner. My clan insisted I not interfere during the chaos of that morning. I will speak at the inquiry."

It was the most Wei Wuxian had heard him say at one time outside of a nighthunt or military report, and there was no question in his mind he had prepared each word as meticulously.

At some point during the speech Wei Wuxian's body had started leaning in his direction. He swallowed hard, sitting up. "You... Lan Zhan, you really are too good, you know that?"

Lan Wangji looked down. "I did not believe the rumors even before that," he said quietly. "I swear, Wei Ying, I did not."

"Well," Wen Qing said, startling Wei Wuxian, who had somewhat forgotten she was there. "This works out perfectly! You have the ideal candidate to help with your plan, one with a dedication to helping Yu Guniang get justice, who is already wholly convinced of your innocence."

"Very funny," Wei Wuxian said through gritted teeth. "So glad you're able to make jokes about this now."

"Plan?" Lan Wangji asked, because of course he would.

Wei Wuxian pressed two fingers to his forehead, unable to believe that Wen Qing had even brought up his foolish and embarrassing idea in front of the second Jade of Lan.

"Just one of my wicked tricks intended to bring about a righteous end," he said, suddenly exhausted. "Nothing you would ever involve yourself. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway."

Lan Wangji continued to stare at him.

"Really! Setting aside the lying and scandalous nature, it's a bad plan — we were talking about how stupid my idea was before you came in, I swear."

"It would be stupid to try with my brother," Wen Qing corrected. "If Hunguang-Jun took his place... it actually might have a chance of being believed."

"Yes," he snapped. "Because Hunguang-Jun is known for not lying, something the plan relies heavily on!"

"Wei Ying. What plan?"

"Forget it, Lan Zhan!"

"Wei Ying—"

"I said it's a stupid idea and you wouldn't agree to it anyway!" His voice has gotten overly sharp, but he couldn't help it. "It's not worth wasting any more words on, and if I'm the one saying that, you know it must be true!"

"If you really don't want to ask Lan er-Gongzi for help," Wen Qing cut in, interrupting Lan Zhan's extremely loud glare, "We could discuss the idea I thought you were coming to ask my assistance with."

The Demon of Yunmeng whipped his head her direction. "Qing-jie!" he cried. "Why didn't you say you had a better plan than mine!"

"Because I don't. My plan is also very bad, and I don't want any part in it, it's just what I thought you would come up with. I underestimated your creativity once again."

"Do you want me to flatter you? We both know that any ideas that come from your brain are bound to be better than what comes from my resentful-energy clouded mind!"

"Wuxian, you really won't like my idea." She was smirking. She clearly thought she had something on him.

"Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg for your help? You know I have no face to lose in front of you!" He glanced at Lan Zhan, who's face had mostly smoothed out, only missing a small wrinkle above his nose.

"You might want to leave," Wei Wuxian whispered, winking. "I wasn't joking about getting undignified." The wrinkle deepened, brow once again fully furrowed.

"Very well," Wen Qing sighed. "If you really are that unwilling to even ask Lan Wangji — possibly the only man who's reputation is good enough to cancel out your terrible one — then we can discuss the other option."

Wei Wuxian leaned toward her eagerly. "Which is..."

"Castration."

He felt the blood leave his face. "What was that?" he asked weakly. "I think I might have misheard you."

"Well, if you were missing the equipment necessary to impregnate Yu Xiang," she said, face completely serious, "Then there would hardly be much to discuss, would there now? A skilled cultivator could probably heal such a.... wound to make it seem questionable when it had occurred. All you would have to do would drop your pants at the trial and claim it had occurred when you were captured by Wen at the start of the war."

A glance over at the other man in the room revealed he looked, if not horrified by most people's measure, certainly distressed by Lan standards. His eyes were slightly wider, the brow wrinkle deeper. His hands were clenching the chair seat.

Wei Wuxian laughed nervously, resisting the urge to protectively cradle the parts being discussed. "If you would allow me a moment to get back to you, Wen-Guniang."

He didn't wait for her to answer, instead slipping to the floor to kneel beside Lan Wangji, who looked at him with what might have been bewilderment, but was probably just mild annoyance. Wei Wuxian pretended it was distress on his behalf.

"Hunguang-Jun," he pleaded, clutching at cloud-embroidered robes. "Lan Wangji. Lan Zhan. Will you please pretend to be my longtime cutsleeve cultivation partner in front of the entire Jianghu?"

"Yes."

"Lan Er-Gongzi," he begged. "At least take a moment to hear —" he blinked, brain catching up to his ears. "Wait, did you say yes?"

"Yes."

"...What."

Prev Chapter (Three) Next Chapter (Five) MDZS AU Masterlist

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 3: "Bite down on this" (Legend & Time)

Ao3

CW for blood and injury

-----------------------------------------

The more of it that he sees, the more Legend is confident that he really, really hates blood. Sure, he’s a hero, and being exposed to the stuff is part of the job description. And he can deal with it when it's coming out of him, and he has no choice but to do something about it. But a situation like this? He would be completely happy to not experience. 

Yet, here he is. Experiencing it.

Lucky him.

“I-I can handle this, vet,” comes the gravelly voice of the hero he is currently trying not throw up on to save. Time sits shivering against the rock wall, pale as the snow surrounding them. His eye is still sharp as ever, however. Which makes it a bit difficult to send him as heated a glare as Legend wants to.

Not impossible though. Never impossible.

“No, you can’t, old man, and you know it.” 

He chances a glance at the wound, unable to keep from visibly cringing. It’s not every day you see a couple of ice arrows skewered in someone’s tricep. 

“Let me just think for a minute. I’ve gotta figure out how to get these things out.”

“Pull them,” Time says as though it’s the simplest thing in the world. This time Legend has no problem glaring at him. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, your arm is frozen,” he snaps, gesturing to the frostbitten flesh visible past the tatters of armor and tunic. “And has been for the better part of the last five minutes.” 

Time looks relatively unperturbed for someone dripping icicles of blood and likely getting more hypothermic by the minute. 

“I’ve dealt with things like this before,” he says, even as Legend practically dives into his pouch, searching for his fire rod. “I know what…what to do. It will only take me a moment.”

Fire rod acquired, Legend sets it aside and grabs for a pocket knife.   

Oh, this is gonna be so pleasant.

Time tilts his head, a knowing look in his eye. “This is making you uncomfortable.”

“Good to know it’s not bothering you.”

“Like I said, I’ve…done this before. Many times. There is n-no need for you to suffer for…for my sake.”

Bandages, fire rod, pocket knife, heart potion, a scrap of sturdy cloth torn from his outer tunic – Legend’s eyes roam over the objects he has placed beside him, checking to ensure he has everything he needs. Yup, time to dive in. 

Yipee. 

“Here.” He folds the cloth in half and hands it to Time. “You’re gonna need something to bite down on.”

“Legend…” There is something vulnerable in Time’s gaze now, vulnerable and almost pleading. “I’ll be alright. Just allow me to – ”

He cuts off, letting out a series of tiny – and frankly, adorable – sneezes. Legend hardly fights back a playful grin. So, he’s not the only one with “bunny sneezes.” Thank the Golden Three.

Oh, he’s gonna tease him about that later.

As Time finishes his sneezing fit, Legend picks up the fire rod. Mentally steeling himself, he moves closer to the affected arm.

“Look, old man, I’m sure you have done this yourself. Countless times. But that doesn’t mean you have to do that now.” 

Time is looking at him out of the corner of his eye and Legend meets his gaze. 

“You’re not alone anymore.”

For a moment, it is quiet. Then, the hero’s shoulders slump defeatedly. With a decisive nod, Legend leans forward.

“Alright, then. Take a deep breath and bite down on that thing. This is gonna hurt and I’d rather you not, you know, bite off your tongue or alert every monster in the vicinity of our location.”

Or causing an avalanche, he thinks, drily. Wild’s Hyrule is almost as bad as Rulie’s. Anything can happen here. Especially when you factor in miserable, below-zero temperatures. 

If he hadn’t found the outcropping they are sheltering under now, he is certain they would’ve frozen to death from the wind alone. 

Time sighs. But he obediently sets the cloth between his teeth. Legend ignites the rod. 

“Ready?”

Time tenses, obviously steeling himself. He nods once, determined and resigned. 

Gritting his teeth against the rising tide of nausea, Legend begins. 

It’s difficult melting away the ice without scalding Time’s skin, especially with how violently the older hero is shivering. His fingers aren’t the steadiest right now either. More than once he hears Time inhale sharply as flames meet tender, abused skin. But for the most part, he is silent, save for his stuttering breaths. 

Then, once the ice is thawed, the worst part comes.

Legend moves the rod to a one-handed grin to keep the ravenous ice at bay. In the other, he grasps his pocket knife. In two swift strokes, he slices the arrows in half. 

Now, a low groan makes its way out between Time’s tightly closed lips. Legend tries his best to ignore it. It’s nothing compared to what is coming, he’s certain.

“I’m gonna pull these out now,” he says, a frigid arrowhead already in hand. He can only pray that the rod was enough to melt any internal ice. If not, then this is going to hurt far worse than it would otherwise.

Time nods again. And Legend wastes no more time. With a deep breath, he pulls. 

The first one comes free with little resistance, wood slipping free from bloodied, frostbitten skin. Time tenses further as though struggling against the cries he undoubtedly wants to let loose. A low whine is the only thing that makes it out of him. 

The second one, however, is stubborn. It is more eager about its ice production, actively fighting the attempts of Legend’s fire rod. No doubt, the very blood in Time’s veins is crystallizing, becoming more frozen by the second. An excruciating experience to be sure. The fact that the old man hasn’t begun screaming yet is either admirable or disturbing. Right now? Legend feels a bit of both.

He brings the rod closer, slowly coaxing the arrow forward with the other hand. This time an audible cry comes from Time, shattering the eerie near-quiet of their little hideout. Legend winces.

“Sorry,” he grits out, voice sharp with worry. 

He pulls a little harder. The arrow slides a little farther. And Time’s fingers fist in the cloth of his tunic, knuckles whiter even than his frigid flesh. A tear trickles from beneath his closed eyelid and slithers down his cheek.

More ice melts away, showcasing blue-black skin beneath. Bile rises in Legend’s throat at the sight. But he drags more of the arrow out. It is nearly free now. 

“Almost there,” he promises, steeling himself for the final stretch. Time’s only response is a muffled scream when he yanks the projectile free. 

With a sigh of relief, Legend hurls the thing away, wincing at the ache in his hands. More than likely, he has frostbite now. 

Oh, joy.

But he doesn’t allow himself a moment to gaze at his swollen fingers. Setting the fire rod aside, he places a potion in Time’s trembling hand.

“Here, drink,” he orders, already reaching for the bandages. The bleeding is faster now that it’s no longer impaired by ice. He’d rather like to put a stop to it before Time loses too much.

As he weaves the strips of gauze around him, Time knocks back half of the potion. Then, he offers the bottle to Legend.

“Oh no.” Legend shoves it back at the older hero, shaking his head. “You need all of that. I don’t want to see your arm rot off.”

“And I don’t want to see the same happen to your fingers,” Time croaks. “You have helped me and I’m thankful for it. But you cannot afford to remain in this condition.” 

Legend looks from him to the bottle and back again. Then, slowly, he glances down at his hands. They are the same angry shades of blacks and purples and blues as Time’s arm. And though adrenaline had saved him from feeling the worst of it, he certainly feels them now. The ache has grown into a pulsing, tingling burn. 

He sighs. As much as he wants to argue, Time has a point. 

“Fine,” he grumbles and snatches the bottle away.

The bittersweetness of the potion is pungent and almost nauseating. But as soon as it has begun to heal him, he feels a wave of sweet relief. He hadn’t realized just how much pain he was in. And though this amount can’t soothe all of his wounds, it makes an awfully good effort.

He places the empty bottle back into his pouch, following it with the fire rod and remaining bandages. Then, he scoots over to Time, shoulder bumping against the older hero’s.

Soon, they will have to rise and walk, looking for the path that Wild had mentioned leading down the mountain. But for now, he thinks they are allowed just a little rest.

That ordeal has left him exhausted.

“Are you alright?” Time rumbles, his voice gentle. 

Legend huffs a laugh. “I’m living. You?”

Time chuckles and lets his head fall back against the wall. He is still much too pale for Legend’s liking and exhaustion drags at his features. Tear streaks gleam on his ashen skin. 

“Living,” he murmurs, “thanks to you.”

He places his uninjured arm around Legend’s shoulders and pulls him close. And for once, the veteran allows himself to lean in. After all, a little warmth is welcome in a place like this. And if he finds comfort in the at last steady rhythm of Time’s breathing, well, that’s just a bonus.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Like Phil, I’d like to think that Jamie and Keeley still go to Brazil, in spite of the boys’ recent fuck-up, but I’d also like to think that Roy comes with them. Not because Jamie and Keeley can’t be friend on their own or wouldn’t have the best time doing Brazil together – they would! – but because I think Jamie might be conscious, given everything that’s gone down recently, of potentially upsetting what he currently perceives as a rather delicate balance.   

Maybe he brings it up a few days later before they head over to Keeley’s for a joint apology, or maybe it happens already at the holy kebab place, once they’ve had a few bites and a chance to settle back into their normal; a little worse for wear, but with no lasting harm done.

And Jamie fiddles with his sleeves and makes little faces as he tries to decide what to say (and Roy notices and waits with some trepidation) and in the end he just comes right out and says it, because that’s what Jamie does, isn’t it?

“I asked Keeley to go to Brazil with me, for that Nike thing I’m doing.”

Roy blinks. He hadn’t known Jamie was doing a Nike thing. Jamie might have told him, but Roy usually stops listening whenever he starts blathering on about brands and clothes and shit, so yeah, if told he hadn’t heard.

“What did she say?” he asks after a slightly too long and awkward moment of Jamie looking up at him, almost through his fucking eyelashes, trying to gauge his reaction.

“She said yes.” And hastily, as if worried what Roy might say or do if given a moment to, he adds: “I didn’t do it to try to get back together or anything. I mean, I do wanna get back together and she’s my friend and I love her and I thought we’d have a great time, yeah, but also, she’s great at PR and all that stuff, so. Yeah. That’s why I asked her to come. Make sure I don’t fuck it up.”

And because you want her to be your girlfriend. Roy doesn’t say it, though. Neither of them want a repeat of what went down at the bar. This isn’t Jamie trying to goad him or hurt him, he’s pretty fucking sure of that, so he’ll listen carefully to everything Jamie has to say, and then he’ll react like a fucking grown-up.

Probably. Possibly.

“Anyway, I think you should, like, come with us.”

Fucking what now? “What?”

“You should come with me and Keeley to Brazil.” Jamie is nodding his head decisively, as if repeating the statement has fully convinced him of its veracity.

“You want me to come with you and Keeley to fucking Brazil?” Roy is aware of sounding like a demented parrot, but he doesn’t give a fuck, does he, because he doesn’t want there to be any fucking room for misinterpretation here.

Jamie doesn’t seem particularly concerned about Roy’s tone. Too used to it, probably. “Um, yeah. Yeah. I mean, probably can’t get Nike to pay for it, right, but you’re rich, so you can just get your own ticket and you can stay with me and Keeley in this villa they’ll set us up in. Can’t mind that.”

Which all sounds very reasonable, of course, but still doesn’t answer the most pressing question:  “Why?”

Jamie makes a face. “What do you mean, why? Because I don’t want shit to be weird between us, mate. And I think it’d be weird if Keeley and I went away and you stayed here after what happened, you know. Besides,” he adds, and suddenly he looks slightly shy; younger than he actually is, and vulnerable, “It’d probably be fun, yeah? All three of us going, together. Because we’re friends and all.”

And there’s something sharp and jagged turning in Roy’s gut at that, because underneath Jamie’s claim there’s a note of uncertainty that Roy had no trouble whatsoever guessing the origin of, and he adds it to the long list of things he hates himself for.

He doesn’t know how to express any of that, so what he says is, “Yeah. I guess. I’ll think about it.”

Jamie’s grin is immediate and wide; relieved and triumphant in equal measure, like he’s already won – like he already knows for a fact that Roy’s going to say yes.

Roy can’t even find it in him to mind that the little prick is right.

And then they all go to Brazil and I’m currently thinking that nothing further really happened between them there, because apparently they all need to do a little more thinking and feeling and figuring themselves out, but I’m sure they still had a grand, grand time of it.

[laylasverse]

🪷, 🌸, &🪻 for the pretty flowers ask game (literally in love with all the ask games you’re making)

pretty flowers ask game ( 🪷 🌸 & 🪻 )

answering for my better cr because i keep dreaming of him

🪷 : LOVELY LOTUS . . . do you and your significant other(s) do any "cheesy" stuff? like having matching pajamas, matching halloween costumes, and picnic dates? or building the flower legos, cooking together, baking together?

we do all the cheesy stuff. jason is such a sap & dork. since we've spent almost most of our lives together ( childhood friends to lovers type shi ) we've done all the corny stuff. freshman year my mom got us matching pajamas and jay had to convince me to actually wear them. he loves to read while i build my lego sets. i have a lot of the spider-man sets because we both love spider-man and he gets them for me.

we both don't really enjoy other people trying to cook with us in the kitchen at the same time. so i sit at the table and talk to him while he cooks & he does the same when i bake.

and yea jason did take me on a picnic date for our two-year anniversity ( DORK ).

🌸 : COMPASSIONATE CHERRY BLOSSOM . . . has your significant other(s) gotten you anything that has become really meaningful to you? have you gotten them something that has become really meaningful to them? when was the gift(s) given? what is the story behind them? have you scripted it as an object you have in your current reality so you feel more connected to them?

jason got me two gold necklaces for my sixteenth birthday. one is a small lightning bolt because one of my favorite superheroes is the flash, also me & him rewatch the cw show at least once a year. the other necklace is the angel number 444 because not only is my favorite number 4, his football & basketball jersey number is 44. i have both necklaces here in my cr and i wear them like every day.

and for christmas ( 2024 ) i made jason a scrapbook of our past three years together. he got a teary-eyed like a dork when i gave it to him. now he keeps it on his dresser in his bedroom. idk how i'm gonna take it from him so i can add more pictures to it but i'll find a way ig.

🪻 : HAPPY HYACINTH . . . what is your significant other(s) favorite thing to do? do they enjoy doing it with you or do they prefer to do it alone? when did they first get interested into it?

jason loves to read. he usually reads alone while he’s at his own home. but sometimes when i’m at his place he’ll have me lay in his lap while he reads. my head or feet i’m his lap as i watch his tv. eventually i’ll just fall asleep on him. he’s very each to nap on because of how warm he his.

he’s always been a reader. back in middle school when we were in the same english class he would always read more than me. i never minded though because i hate english class and i’ve always been better than him at math.

ꪆৎ : i'll make an intro for this dr soon 💔

2025 ⓒ LAYLASVERSE

[wuxiaphoenix]

On Writing: Hamster-Wheeling

If anyone tells you that you have to suffer to make great art, go ahead and tell them where to go. Because they’ve got it exactly backward. Yes, people who’ve suffered can and do turn that into the seeds of great art. Just like kintsugi - the art of mending broken pottery with gold and other materials - can produce wonderful, useful pieces again. But note: kintsugi is a process of time and mending.

In other words, if your days are devoted to stamping out one sudden brushfire after another, your brain may not have enough breathing room to write coherent stories. You need that rest time. That chunk of the space-time continuum marked off where no one is going to bother you.

Including your own brain, fretting about how to make everything stretch this week, or how many people you’ll have to call before you finally shake loose someone who can fix the latest paperwork brushfire. Argh.

(There are some pieces of paperwork I just print multiple copies of at my own expense, because experience has taught me the electronic submission they ask for Will Not Work no matter how many times I send it, and handing it off in person requires at least two extra copies and badgering the office for three weeks before they finally file a copy and admit everything is done.)

For better or worse, not having the calm to write does nothing to quell the desire to write. It just makes that desire... less than productive. Zen practitioners might be familiar with “monkey mind” or “grasshopper mind”. Your brain. Keeps jumping. From idea to idea. Without pulling together a solid enough foundation for any of them.

When my brain is generating a bunch of partial ideas, yet not gaining traction on any, I tend to call that “hamster-wheeling”. Furious activity going ‘round and ‘round without getting anywhere.

How to fix it? Auuuuggghhh.

It helps if you can maintain a regular schedule of sitting down at the keyboard and/or grabbing a pen and paper.

(Currently, not possible. I often don’t know what my schedule is one day to the next, much less by the week.)

It also helps to reduce the stress level.

(See above. Economy. Rrrgh.)

And it can help to get other in-progress stuff off your plate so they’re not an extra distraction. That, at least, I can work on. Even if it’s just, pick one aspect of the draft that needs edits and work from there. At the moment I’m doing my best to pin down a slippery medic character in The Words of the Night, and hitting any other edits I happen to spot in passing. Once I get that done I’ll check my list for the next trouble spot and hit that.

The point is to not give up. Eventually you’ll find or create enough of a calm spot in your life that something will stand still long enough to get written.

...One way or another. After all, Jack London reportedly lit out after inspiration with a club....

[heavenlycloud]

the veil~ ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻

introduction: i got a match ‧₊˚ ⋅ ༘☆*.ﾟ

warnings: light swearing

pairing: huh yunjin x aespa 5th member! fem reader

summary: y/n swore that she wouldn't get the app all of her collogues have been addicted to for months. yunjin swore she was done following trends and she wanted to make independent decisions. yet both of them end up in the same position, nose to their phones as they try to see if they'll receive a match on the first try.

author notes: please let me know your thoughts and opinions on this chapter. feedback, comments, likes, reblogs, other interactions drive my motivation to continue posting so i'd really appreciate it if you all gave me any of those! i don't currently have a taglist but if you'd like me to make one please let me know via my inbox or messages.

̟ ̇ ˖ಎ˚˖࿔ masterlist 𓂅୨⊹ ₊˚๑

y/n's POV

“I GOT A NEW MATCH!” yizhuo’s excited scream startled you out of the trance you were in as The Glory played on the TV in front of you. aeri rushed out of her room and jumped over the back of the sofa landing right next to you with a plop. the sofa hit the wall behind you three from the weight shift which caused jimin to call out, “stop climbing on the sofa before you put a hole in the wall!” the three of you blandly called out in english, “sorry unnie!” 

aeri leaned over yizhuo’s phone and asked, “you got a new match? what happened to your old match?” the youngest member rolled her eyes in annoyance and scoffed, “he was so boring and he never texted me anything but complaints about his job. like i get it this shit is hard but i’m not about to listen to someone complain about stuff then not make an effort to fix it- like grow up seriously.” aeri nodded in agreement and responded, “yeah no that makes perfect sense. i had a friend who terminated his first match cause the girl he was paired with only whined about not being the favored member in her group…” before you could become bored of the conversation your members started, your phone rang beside you. the incoming call from your little sister pulled your attention away and you paused the tv as you answered it. 

a bright and shining face appeared on your phone screen and you smiled, “hey minj’ what’s going on?” your little sister laughed at someone off camera then turned her attention to you, “nothing i just wanted to call you cause i missed you, that’s all.” you narrowed your eyes at the screen and asked her, “how much do you need?” minji snorted and asked, “why do you always think i need money from you? i’m serious, i just missed you. we’ve been working so much i don’t even get to text you until late and by then you’re already asleep.” the smile on your face faltered and you asked in a much more serious tone, almost sounding angry, “they’re not working you guys too hard are they? cause i’ll come up there right now if i have to-” minji immediately assured you with a frantic tone, “no no unnie i promise we’re okay! please don’t come over here right now.” you settled back into the sofa and relaxed, “alright then…but i swear minji you better tell me if something happens with you or any of the girls-” your little sister started giggling and a chorus of laughter from her other members followed which made your tone grow firm once again, “hey all five of you heard me?” the laughter ceased and five shy ‘yes unnie’s were heard in the background. 

in the seat beside you yizhuo and aeri began bickering over what the second text to yizhuo’s new match should be. somewhere in the process minji heard the word match and asked, “ooh is that ningning and giselle unnie?” aeri snatched your phone and held it away from you as you struggled to reach for it back while she grinned, “hi minji!” your little sister grew shy from the attention and her cheeks blushed red as both of your members started talking to her about her group’s recent accomplishments. minji took a small bit of silence on your end to ask, “are you guys on The Veil app? i heard you all say you got a new match.” yizhuo held up her phone that displayed a short text message exchange between her and her compliment, “i just got a new one!” minji leaned in closer to the camera and said proudly, “i’ve had my match for 3 months now, they’re still my first one though!” you whipped your head to face aeri and you snatched your phone back as you grilled your little sister, “who is your match? when was this? do mom and dad know? why didn’t you tell me? you better not be talking to boys…shit- or girls either!”

another fit of laughter sounded but this time it was from both minji’s members and your own. aeri shook her head and mused, “no wonder your sister doesn’t tell you stuff.” minji explained herself with slight annoyance in her voice, “i didn’t tell you because you act like this! and i don’t know my match, unnie. that’s literally the entire point of the app. but yeah, i got my match three months ago and we’ve been talking since then. before you bombard me again, no im not talking to anyone right now, and i don’t plan to…. and no mom and dad don’t know, and you won’t tell them either because i didn’t tell them about that time i caught you and-” you cut your sister off frantically, “OKAY OKAY I GET IT I WON’T SAY ANYTHING! damn you’re annoying you know that?” your tone was teasing at the end as minji giggled with a sly smirk on her face. she could tell by the look on your face that you were thinking about telling her to delete the app so she added, “hanni has the app too!” off screen there was a very clear, very annoyed huff of disappointment, “BRO ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” minji murmured softly, “sorry i panicked” to her member before you finally let out a laugh at her throwing her other member under the bus. 

hanni told you with confidence, “unnie you should get the app, it’s really fun actually!” aeri chimed in while side eyeing you, “we’ve tried getting her on it for months but she won’t do it.” overlapping chatter on both sides of the phone prompted you to blurt out hurriedly, “okay! okay, i’ll get the stupid app! jeez.” a chorus of cheers followed by aeri leaning over and tackling you into a hug made you drop your phone. you toppled over laughing before minji called out to you, “okay unnie, i have to go but i’ll call you back tonight or later this week okay?” you hummed in agreement and rushed to pick up the phone to add on, “okay, take care of yourself and your girls. call me anytime and don’t forget if you need anything i’m there okay?” minji nodded in slight exasperation but she knew everything you rambled on was with good intention. you smiled weakly then said, “okay bye, i love you minj’.” the younger girl added on with a grin, “i love you too unnie. bye.” the phone screen went dark and you stared at your phone for a moment in silence before aeri held your shoulder, “she’ll be fine y/n. come on, let’s start finding you a match!” 

it took nearly an hour to get the app set up on your phone because aeri and yizhuo claimed all of your screen names were ‘cringe’. you set down your phone and whined, "why can't i just use my stage name?" aeri lightly hit you on the head as she sassily remarked, "because you're the only one who uses diana, genius." under your breath you murmured, "when have i ever..." that part was technically true. diana was the name your company decided you'd use similar to your members using their stage names. the only thing was nobody really called you by your stage name anymore. at this point it was only fans using the name diana when posting videos of you onstage when you were deep in your element. it was so unfamiliar on your ears that you hesitated to respond when someone called you by the name.

offering one more solution, you typed in one more name: jasmine. you were fully expecting aeri and yizhuo to just take your phone and put something in for you. but the two girls both exclaimed, "wait that's actually cute!" a breath of relief fell past your lips then yizhuo asked, "like the princess?" you laughed then shook your head, "no it was my grandpa's favorite flower. i just thought it sounded nice." finally they approved of one and you entered the last bit of information into the controls before hitting confirm. there was only a minute of waiting before your phone pinged: 

jasmine 🌿 has been matched with lyra 🪐

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✭・彡♡・✫.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

yunjin’s POV

kazuha laid out on yunjin’s bed with her ankles crossed and toes pointed in a way that reminded yunjin of the ballerina’s past life. for the past ten minutes yunjin had been ranting about how one of her songs didn’t get the approval she’d hoped for, and in turn wouldn’t make it onto their upcoming album. however her words fell on deaf ears while the younger girl became completely absorbed by the text messages on her phone. yunjin stopped pacing her room and finally looked at kazuha just to realize her attention was occupied elsewhere. in a fit of frustration yunjin raised her voice, “Zuha?” the younger girl jumped and fumbled with her phone in her hands as she looked up and asked, “did you say something?” yunjin slipped her hands into her shiny charcoal colored hair as she held her head as if it was the only thing keeping her sane. The american let out a groan, “zuha work with me here!” kazuha put her phone down and apologized, “i’m sorry, okay okay…i just think that you don’t have to get this upset right now. they didn’t reject the song totally, just for this album because it didn’t fit the image we have this time. so who knows? they might let you release it as a single this summer?” yunjin knew that her member had a point but she didn’t want to admit it in the moment since she was still in what chaewon calls her ‘Bitch Fit Phase’. 

the older girl was itching to change the subject so she pointed to kazuha’s phone, “what had you all distracted anyways?” kazuha beamed as she looked down at a new message notification, “i’m just talking to a friend.” yunjin peered at the younger girl’s screen and rolled her eyes, “not that Veil app everyone keeps talking about. i don’t get what the hype is about- you don’t even know who you’re talking to. how do you know they’re not a total creep?” sakura entered yunjin’s room and asked, “i heard you all talking about the Veil app.” kazuha pointed to yunjin and stated, “unnie has no idea how it works.” yunjin shot back in defense by lying straight through her teeth, “i do so now how it works!” the youngest girl raised an eyebrow and challenged, “really? then explain it to me.” when yunjin’s smile faltered, kazuha let out a wheeze and fell over laughing, “i told you!” 

sakura watched the two lightly hit each other as they bickered back and forth before she decided to intervene. the eldest started explaining, “to get a match on the app you have to start by verifying your age with a government ID. they want to make sure everyone is matched appropriately by age so no minors are paired to adults, and no young adults are paired to much older ones. then you choose if you want to be matched with a girl, boy, or let the app choose for you. when you get your match neither of you knows the other’s identity because you have a screen name. some people reveal themselves immediately but most of us don’t because it can be awkward if you both work together or end up crossing paths somewhere. i think it’s a good way to meet people honestly, i think you’d like it, yunjinnie.” kazuha pointed out with a satisfied smile, “yeah and you can choose the language you type in so i’m paired with another japanese girl. unnie, just try it and if you hate it then delete it and nobody will even know it was you.” the american bit the side of her lip and thought for a moment, when she couldn’t think of any excuse, she caved, “fine. i’ll try it.”

kazuha handed yunjin her phone, “good cause this isn’t my phone, it’s yours and i already signed you up for a match.” yunjin opened the app and looked at the profile kazuha had filled out for her. yunjin said a silent thank god in her head when she read

age range: 2000-2002

gender: female

language: english

she stopped for a moment then pointed to her phone and asked, "zuha who the hell is...uh- lyra?" kazuha explained with a grin, "it's your screen name! i couldn't put jennifer because that was too obvious. i just picked something that sounded pretty!" before yunjin could respond with any other questions her phone buzzed with the notification:

 lyra 🪐 has been matched with jasmine 🌿

‎♡‧₊˚˘͈ᵕ˘͈‎ 彡♡ ༘*.ﾟ .·:¨༺ ʚ♡ɞ༻¨*:·.﹢࿐ ☆

taglist: @https-f4iryjin @awkwardtoafault

[caltropspress]

RAPS + CRAFTS #35: Hester Valentine

1. Introduce yourself. Past projects? Current projects?

I’m Hester Valentine and I’m a Bronx-based rapper. I just dropped a compilation called Valenta this year and I’ve got a record out with Karma Kids called I Can’t Cut Your Hair produced by Outside House. I’m coming different next year though, for sure.

2. Where do you write? Do you have a routine time you write? Do you discipline yourself, or just let the words come when they will? Do you typically write on a daily basis?

I write mostly in my room, but wherever I have an idea and can write it down I’ll write. I’ve written stuff at work, waiting for people, on my commute places, etc. I definitely let the words come to me when they will. I’ve been trying to get more structured in how I write and the amount of consistent time I give the craft, but I certainly fall a bit short in that regard. I guess the most daunting part of that process is the uncertainty of it. It’s a bit difficult not feeling nice every time you put pen to paper because there isn’t a specific direction you’re going in and that self-doubt breeds procrastination for me, I think. I gotta remind myself that for every dope DOOM verse, there’s probably five weak ones he scrapped getting there. 

3. What’s your medium—pen and paper, laptop, on your phone? Or do you compose a verse in your head and keep it there until it’s time to record?

I write on my phone almost exclusively. I haven’t written a full verse in a notebook since like ninth grade. I can hardly imagine it honestly, considering how messy my handwriting tends to be. Over the recent years, I’ve developed a bit of a rude habit of jotting notes mid-conversation out of fear of forgetting them. I try to keep the least amount of my information in my head as I can because I am bound to forget some aspect of the idea or line and that is really frustrating. I am not especially disciplined with my note taking though (especially when high), so I end up losing shit all the time. What’s that Kanye line, "Does he write his own rhymes? / Well, sort of, I think 'em, / That mean I forgot better shit than you ever thought of.”

4. Do you write in bars, or is it more disorganized than that?

I write in bars, absolutely. I put the dashes and all that shit. I’ve seen some people get real specific in notating their verses for inflections and stuff like that, but I’ve never gotten that specific. That’s mostly where the disorganization finds itself in my process. I usually rap the verse over and over to find my voice, but I usually have the bars written and structured before recording anything. I used to split three hour sessions with one of my mans and that kinda got me in the habit of just coming to any recording prepared because, if I didn’t, I’d leave with nothing done. So a lot of times, I’d come in knowing exactly which bars I’m using, how long I’m rapping, where I want breaks for adlibs, etc. 

5. How long into writing a verse or a song do you know it’s not working out the way you had in mind? Do you trash the material forever, or do you keep the discarded material to be reworked later?

Sometimes it’s within five minutes of writing a verse and sometimes it is after I hear a demo and I’m like, “This idea is completely lifeless.” There have been times where I’d go into sessions high on certain demos and unsure about others and once I hear them, be completely flipped on them. The stuff that doesn't make it past five minutes for me gets saved because I just don’t throw things away. They’re always in my notes on the cloud for however long because I’m a hoarder. That gives me the chance to be surprised by them in a different context later on down the road. I’ve definitely had lines that may have felt off to me while writing that I was able to rework and bring something out of when revisiting. Complete demos though, I rarely revisit. If it doesn’t work for me for a long enough period, I just stop listening altogether. I don’t delete them because again, I hoard shit, but I don’t try to get on some Stockholm syndrome shit with it and force myself to be into the song. 

6. Have you engaged with any other type of writing, whether presently or in the past? Fiction? Poetry? Playwriting? If so, how has that mode influenced your songwriting?

I’ve dabbled in other stuff, but it’d be disrespectful to say that I’ve engaged in any meaningful way. I’ve done a few standup sets when I was younger, tried writing a screenplay a few times, but I definitely think writing raps is the thing that I’ve gotten most of my confidence as a writer from. If I ever returned to those mediums, it’d be with a new confidence that committing to rapping has given me. 

7. How much editing do you do after initially writing a verse/song? Do you labor over verses, working on them over a long period of time, or do you start and finish a piece in a quick burst?

I tend to do quick bursts. I’m not a super confident writer honestly, so I don’t spend much time laboring over the stuff. I take my time while writing and I’ll go back and fix things that are obviously clunky. Maybe I reuse a word a few times or I’ve got too many syllables in a line, but, besides that, I go with what’s written mostly. I do a lot of considering and reworking lines as I’m doing them. I’ll think of a line on the train, write it down, and rephrase it a few times to get the funniest/most interesting bits of it out, so by time I’m done with the verse I’m just tidying it up. 

8. Do you write to a beat, or do you adjust and tweak lyrics to fit a beat?

I do a bit of both. I may start with an opening set of bars (about 2-4) and then finish the verse writing to the beat. I find that if I write something for a beat, I don’t like to repurpose it. It just throws me off too much because I've already gotten used to how I like it sounding on this particular beat. Even if I can find something with a similar BPM or whatever, I still feel like I’m missing cues or something. I’ve had some dope verses get scrapped and I’m like, “I really wanna reuse these bars, but shit ain’t gonna hit the same.” The pocket half the reason I fuck with the lines in the first place!

9. What dictates the direction of your lyrics? Are you led by an idea or topic you have in mind beforehand? Is it stream-of-consciousness? Is what you come up with determined by the constraint of the rhymes?

It’s mostly stream-of-consciousness. I think I often start with an idea, line, or phrase that I find striking or funny and build from there. The connection line-by-line is there for me, even if it reads a bit random from an outside POV. I’ve always appreciated that kind of specificity in rappers I love. There’s something assuring about hearing a nigga bug out with the rhymes and not getting every single word, reference, etc., but knowing that the rapper themselves is in complete awareness of what’s going on and are giving you something from a very particular lens. I write in this style because it’s the style that feels most personal to me. Finding the universality in that stream-of-consciousness is way more rewarding than being overly didactic, in my opinion. Sometimes, ideas have to be shaped and molded to fit a rhyme, but if too much of the idea is lost or the line just doesn't sound dope anymore, I’ll scrap the line and save it for something else. 

10. Do you like to experiment with different forms and rhyme schemes, or do you keep your bars free and flexible?

I like to think I’m fairly eclectic. I try to do whatever I think is dope for the song/verse. I gotta see myself fail at an idea that I like before I rule it out. 

11. What’s a verse you’re particularly proud of, one where you met the vision for what you desire to do with your lyrics?

I think my song, “Lebron Meme” is the verse/song I’m most proud of. I think a lot of my vision for my lyrics revolves around blends of moods and aesthetics. I like pairing really brash, direct lines with something a bit more vague and “poetic” sounding, for lack of a better term. In theory, my verses should work on multiple levels. It should be raw and in your face, but also meditative, and I think I really strike that balance on "Lebron Meme" well. 

I’ll blend goofy pop culture references (“Revenge, we outside the house like Julie Chen”)  with lines like, “My girl wanna know what the song mean, / I speak my truths how they were spoken to me, / Some nights, this feel like a gift, / Other nights, a disease.” I feel that the moody, introspective parts of my writing and the sillier, darkly funny parts are given equal importance on this record. I like writing stuff that you can’t just put into a box. I’m always trying to strike this tone of humor mixed with horror and sadness. I think my sensibilities worked really well on this one. 

I also say some slick shit in there, in my opinion. I think that’s always key for me beyond the other shit - just saying dope, clever shit. I was proud of the wordplay here, “Our ISBN conflicting digits, / Nonpareil, the style not enteric, / Bite at ya own risk, numbers shaved off the biscuits, / They butter me up, I get to slipping, / I can’t trust they intentions.” I think the blend of approaches helps create a really tense song that is equal parts hilarious as it is depressive and eerie. 

12. Can you pick a favorite bar of yours and describe the genesis of it?

One of my favorite bars is on a track called “god is not listening”:

Brag raps all I felt was the disconnect, Blood of the hunted slathered across the chest, Ovaries rattled around my neck like the most bulbous of chains, I betray my upbringing with every single breath.

This is an idea I had kicking around in my head for some time because I thought the imagery of a man literally wearing the ovaries of his female conquests was really striking and powerful. I initially thought of it when I was considering the difference in how losing your virginity is perceived for men and women. The song, from my view, is about me toggling between my desires in a music industry and a society where conquering is seen as success. I felt a disconnect between my feelings about my art and my place in the ecosystem and the confidence that I felt was necessary to project on record. I’ve been feeling a disconnect between the rap game I grew up idolizing as a child and my values as a grown adult. I often think, “Is this the shit I really wanted? Is everything I grew up idolizing as a kid a function of some darker system predicated on control of others? Is to succeed in these traditional ways of viewing success, whether it be having the most money, being the most esteemed, etc - is that all just systems of control? Am I fucked up for wanting it?" So, to me, I thought it was important to display the brag raps in a way that really highlighted the barbaric nature of it. Everything these rappers brag about having stems from a place of exploitation and wanting it for myself makes me no better than them, I believe. So, I really wanted to write a line that highlighted my disgust effectively and contextualized why my feelings towards these paths to “success” were so conflicted.  

13. Do you feel strongly one way or another about punch-ins? Will you whittle a bar down in order to account for breath control, or are you comfortable punching-in so you don’t have to sacrifice any words?

I love punch-ins. A lot of my favorite rappers right now punch-in damn near every bar. I love that you can do that and play with it and add another dimension to your schemes with that. I have songs where I will punch-in on certain bars and let the punch-in go over each other and mix that with more traditional sounding rhymes just to add some variance. "Cane, Dewey" off In All Its Messiness is the clearest example of that, I think. "Panic" and "Blood War" off I Can’t Cut Your Hair have opening bars that are punched in like that, but I think they got a little more nudged in place on the final mix though. I love it though and will intentionally write pockets of the verse like that. I also don’t get purists who want to record all in one take, either. Well, I get it in some respects, but also why not take advantage of technology? I want to give the best sounding performance I can. When I rap it live, that’s a different story, but I don’t think it matters if I am in the booth and losing breath on lines because I want to rap it straight on some ego shit. I’d rather punch in where it’s necessary and hit every line with conviction. 

14. What non-hiphop material do you turn to for inspiration? What non-music has influenced your work recently?

I love a lot of non-hip-hop music. I was just talking with my partner about how “Usher” off of I Can’t Cut Your Hair is kinda like my attempt to re-make "Mass Production" by Iggy Pop. I’m constantly finding inspiration in 70s no wave stuff and 80s post punk shit, too. Bands like Suicide, Neu!, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, and Talking Heads were huge for me. I also love pop music, dearly.  A Distant Shore by Tracey Thorn was my go-to record for a minute.

I’m also a big media consumer - I can’t lie. Nothing all that highbrow neither. I be watching cooking shows and wrestling stuff in my spare time. That stuff helps to give me words or ideas to play with and reference. I’m watching MasterChef and I’m like, “Damn, what rhymes with aioli?” My job works in that way too. I was working at a laundromat and suddenly I got all these flips about clothes and stuff because it’s on my mind! 

In terms of my sensibilities, I think a lot of what I find funny and interesting is informed by shows, movies, and books I’ve loved growing up. I was really into David Lynch, Charlie Kaufman, Franz Kafka, Kurt Vonnegut, etc. in school. Most recently I’ve been obsessed with Nathan Fielder and his stuff. A lot of stuff I like is really funny, but also a bit scary and sad. I like work that really challenges you to reflect on an experience in a way deeper than That was funny! or That was scary! The Sopranos is hilarious and sad and intense all in the same show, same season, even the same scene sometimes. I think that truth is found in that gray area because most of the events in our life that we can reflect on elicit more than one single emotion. I think memories tend to be pretty loaded in regard to emotions. I’m constantly living in that gray where what I know about a situation seems to contradict itself, and I like to capture that emotional uncertainty in my work.

15. Writers are often saddled with self-doubt. Do you struggle to like your own shit, or does it all sound dope to you?

I certainly struggle to like my own shit. I’m jealous of the New York MC that loves his own shit and thinks his area is the greatest area in the world and that everything with his name on it is a classic. Like maybe one day I’ll wake up with Troy Ave confidence, you know? I’m still young in this music thing, so I think I’m still looking externally for validation a lot of times. I’m still halfway wondering, Was that bar clever? I like my shit when I write it and I trust my taste more than I trust other people’s, but I’m always afraid of being delusional about my abilities and who I am as an artist. I guess that’s just the tension that comes with putting yourself out there for others. You’re constantly thinking, Does this shirt make me look fat? 

16. Who’s a rapper you listen to with such a distinguishable style that you need to resist the urge to imitate them?

I’d say DOOM and Pusha T are the main rappers where I noticed that my style was being drawn a lot from early on. Ab-Soul and Heems were also two of the first rappers I ever wanted to sound like, for real. As I got older, milo, woods, and Mach were the rappers I had to kind of chill out on because it was becoming too close. I was flipping niggas like Dutch traders and shit and doing adlibs like woods - I had to pull back. A lot of my favorite MCs are idiosyncratic in one way or another, so I often find myself having to go, Don’t say it exactly like Rory.   

17. Do you have an agenda as an artist? Are there overarching concerns you want to communicate to the listener?

I’ll be honest: I don’t know yet. I make stuff because I like it and hope other people like it too. That’s all I really want. 

RAPS + CRAFTS is a series of questions posed to rappers about their craft and process. It is designed to give respect and credit to their engagement with the art of songwriting. The format is inspired, in part, by Rob McLennan’s 12 or 20 interview series.

Photo credit: FleeGriot

[krnsluvvie]

love at first, love at second, love at last

veintitres: te perdono (tal vez) (+ wc: 0.9k)

SUMMARY: sae had chosen his career and that was shortly followed by his and y/n's separation. three years pass by and amongst all the lurking and stalking each other's socials, sae is suddenly found back in their hometown. old feelings are resurfaced, current ones are questioned and a whole load of future ones are found in a blur.

veintidós | masterlist | veinticuatro

an icon pops up on the screen. kurona has joined, ultimately.

“you can stay muted, i’ll make it quick.”

a ding.

i hate you

you briefly laugh before you say, “i love you, too.”

ew

“get to the point, y/n. we don’t have all day.” isagi unmutes himself just to utter those words out and you roll your eyes in pseudo-annoyance.

“once you reach my age, you’ll be pulling all-nighters left and right to get your stuff done.”

or we will get them done during the day, or days before the deadline ! 

“okay, kurona. i get it!”

STOP DIGRESSING.

“yes, everything oliver told you—it’s true.”

both unmute. 

“FOR REAL?”

“NO FUCKING WAY.”

“yeah, i felt almost… hm,” you stroke your chin in thought as you try to think of the exact word depicting how you’d felt in that moment. “forced? obligated? plus, yeah, sure, it was in the heat of the moment but i don’t regret it.”

you expected commotion but the guys pleasantly surprise you as they unmute once again and start talking.

“are you sure?” isagi asks, you can hear the hesitation in his voice as if he was tiptoeing around the topic. he knows when not to pry too deep. 

you nod your head. “yep, positive.”

“even if… i mean, i do try to see it from your view. you’ve always been a good person but some people just don’t deserve second chances.”

silence.

“eh… ehh— i didn’t mean sae exactly. i was just saying.”

“you’re right, yeah.” you say after a moment of stillness. 

“but also—” you cut yourself off.

“hm?” isagi hums almost immediately.

“i don’t know. i’m just so confused right now.”

“speak, we will listen.”

“who said i wo—”

isagi mutes kurona. 

“you shall continue.”

YOU……. WHEN I CATCH YOU…

“i don’t want to keep you here for long so i’ll just go over what’s on my mind quickly. the contract, my kinda job, all of that right?”

“yeah?”

“it’s not even about them at this point. sure, we are still awkward around each other but it’s mostly coming from my side, if that makes sense? i try not to let my guard too much around him.”

“hmm…yeah? yeah. and?”

“and i think i’m starting to accept the reason why i did that in the first place.”

“he hurt you, it was only right to be cautious around him, y/n…” isagi says with his sweet and caring voice. if only he was like this more often. 

“thank you, isagi.”

I AGREE IM HERE TOO.

“thank you, too, kurona.” you say between breathy laughs.

“so what’s the reason?”

“i think,” you inhale, “i think i’m falling down the same hole again.”

HUH?

“kurona, you want me to unmute you?”

NO

no i mean

“what hole?”

“the—”

“oh!” isagi interrupts you. “you’re starting to like him again… is what i’m getting… ?”

HOPEFUKLY YOURE WRONG

“yeah.” you exhale, tension in your body gradually leaving.

*RIGHT

“oh.”

“isagi, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. i hate it, too. i’ve been done wrong and now look at me, catching feelings again.”

“i’m really glad you’re aware. but also—”

yet another silence.

“yeah? continue.”

“maybe… give it another shot? i’m not telling you to do it, just consider it and don’t torture yourself more. he explained himself, too, right? again, that doesn’t give him a pass, but yeah, just… him saying that means something! him saying things out of his own will!”

i hate to say this but as much as i don’t like him and despite what i said about not giving second chances… maybe it’s worth a shot ? as isagi said, he also tried to explain himself (DOESNT MAKE IT OK OR EGGZCUSABLE!!) it’s been some years and you both must’ve matured .. to some extent.

“HEY?!” 

i’m just saying🤷

you hate yourself for ignoring their opinion but as you read over the message and heard the words from isagi, you knew that what you were feeling was unmistakably real.

“it’s about to be 3.”

“y/n… think about it, yeah? we will support you no matter what.”

you let a small smile overtake your lips. “thank y—”

“after football.”

“never mind.”

i’m going yall, my eyes r closing🔥

“sleep well. both of you. thank you for listening to me, as always.”

gn!!💝

“good night, y/n.”

“also guys, before you disconnect! the reason why i told him first was!!! because i already expected you to come. so if you don’t, i will be very sad, just so you know!”

isagi laughs, hitting his desk—from what you can hear. “alright, alright. we shall steal all the spotlight.”

“bye!!!!!!!”

and... end call.

you close your laptop and fall face-first in your bed. first time acknowledging your lingering feelings, out loud, too. you squeeze your eyes in embarrassment.

this can’t be real. this can’t be real.

after all the years that you were separated from each other; you desperately tried reaching out while he was living his life, ignoring your calls and messages and giving you his half-assed apology and reason for separation, you still found yourself attached to him. 

oh, god, you can only hope that it doesn’t get any further than this.

(you know you're jinxing it, so you think of reverse psychology as to counter this fact.)

a/n: not proofread i apologize + THE WAY THIS IS DRAGGING ON OMG ILL KMS (theres a reason actually!! ill explain it after the series/2nd act ends!!! eventually yes..) ....... itll end soon i promise pls bear w me :ˇ')

tag list: @kiopanxp @funtuki @silly-ez @asteroskoniiii @keijiqahara @pikibee @tamimemo @kaitfae @biaonww @y-sabell-a @kaiserkisser @winterpein @bloombb @yyoichisgirl

[trashlie]

Manifesting Stalkyoo~

Just to get it out of the way: PLEASE KNOW THIS IS ALL IN GOOD FUN! I don’t want anyone to take this in a weird way or like it’s some ridiculous demand I’m making lmao. I’ve just been having a delightful time talking to other Stalkyoo shippers and just romanticizing silly things we want to see so again: THIS IS JUST FOR FUN! I know fandom has been weird about shipping stuff because of the... ugly past lol so I feel a weird need to remind people that my shipping is just secondary enjoyment of ILY and that I will continue to love and read ILY wherever it goes. 

With that out of the way lol please also note there are spoilers all the way up to 224, so if you don’t FP episodes, this post is not safe for you! (unless you like spoilers. i don’t judge people, I like spoilers, too) 

Look, I’m not good at writing fanfiction. I’d love to, but I always feel like it’s difficult for me to portray characters the way the original writer does. I think about it, every now and then, dabble in a little idea, something I might like to see, before the storyline plays out in a different way, but I just never trust myself, so this is about the closest I ever get to that. And even still, I think of these little musings, these silly little “oh I’d love to see ______” very inline with fanfiction, wherein I acknowledge that what I’m hoping for or imagining is very likely to not happen. It’s just the fun of exploring story and the what-if’s and little AU tangents where ONE little thing tweaks. 

For me, the fun of shipping is just playing with those character dynamics, which is another reason fic is so difficult for me - I enjoy my pairings, my characters, within their circumstances. That’s not to say AU fics are unfathomable to me (I LOVE THEM), but more so that it’s hard to write something knowing that I don’t know everything, that quimchee will pull out a surprise and I’ll be like oh my god I should have realized! And again, I guess that’s where musing is fun. You get to play out those little what if’s for yourself, get to imagine a scenario that probably will never come to pass. That’s the fun of fic + canon, to me! Not once has quimchee done something with her characters and their story that really surprised me in an “oh i don’t like this” kind of way. I can say “Oh I’d love to see xyz scenario play out” but when instead abc plays out, I’m not mad. 

I also fully admit that I tend to compartmentalize my shipping thoughts and whims separately from my general commentary, and I guess for the previously mentioned reasons: this fandom has an ugly, nasty past with shipping and even still, there are a lot of people who demand romance from ILY and don’t seem to care about the actual story at play or even weirder, seem to think that it detracts from the romance they think should be happening???? (”when is she going to choose one of the brothers it’s been so many years and episodes waaaah) And I guess, yeah, I get a little self-conscious, because (and this is feels so embarrassing to actually word) I acknowledge a lot of people read my commentary and my opinions! And I’m so happy for that, I love being so communal with everyone! But I do get worried someone is going to take something out of context and be like “omg can you believe she’s one of those weirdo romance demanders” or something lmao, hence this weird long useless diatribe. But yeah, basically, I’ve been talking with people lately and god just thinking about my shippy feels and how much I love the current story - one step forward, three steps back; the struggles to open up; the struggles to deal with feelings in the face of much heavier, scarier elements; etc. etc.

Sometimes you just wake up and you’re like: I WANNA SCREAM ABOUT STALKYOO so you do it because you have a birdbrain and you know is screaming afljkfkjafkjakfjaf LMAO 

If you’re reading this, chances are you aren’t new to my blog so you’ve probably read the likes of my Foundations of Stalkyoo, Why I Ship Stalkyoo, and Further Thoughts on Stalkyoo (I just never shut up huh) posts, so I’ll try not to like, completely repeat everything but if it happens well. It can’t helped, can it? lol 

Anyway something I’ve been talking and thus thinking a lot about is where we stand with Stalkyoo, now that we are getting more confirmation of actual budding feelings. I always reiterate that anything can change, but I also like to remind myself that something quimchee has said in the past (and this is loosely paraphrased) is that whenever it does come to a pairing, it will be made obvious before it gets there, because this is NOT a primarily romance-focused story which means there aren’t as many storylines that deal with just the will-they/won’t-they and the likes, and I think likewise, there won’t be a real love triangle the way most fans tend to think of them. So often a love triangle gets boiled down to someone being torn between two people for whatever reason and i just don’t get the sense we’ll be seeing that? Thus, I do feel like we might well be moving into a territory where we will see some kinds of scenes setting up, or maybe better put, enabling the possibility of a relationship between Shinae and Nol? 

But first. I always say I don’t really try to predict things because I’m always proven wrong, but I still like to try for fun lol, just because that’s part of the joy of reading an on-going story, I think! I’ve waffled a lot on it, but I still feel like when we reach our big time skip (not the first one taking us to graduation, but rather the one that jumps us a few years ahead), there has to be a REASON. Narratively it’s hard to imagine what that reason might be beyond the likelihood that we’ll see our three main characters on separate paths. It’s the only thing that makes sense, because otherwise you end up with a lot of story happening off page, right? If Shinae were to go to Japan with Kousuke, we’d end up missing their reconciliation and Kousuke earning her trust (or if it were to go the opposite, becoming cold acquaintances). Thus, I think Kousuke will go to Japan, but Shinae will take Rand’s advice begrudgingly and take up Yui on her “offer, while Nol will probably go to college abroad. He wasn’t denied admission to Oxford - it’s just not guaranteed there will be a spot for him. 

I know people take umbrage with the idea of Shinae taking up Yui’s offer, but hear me out. I don’t think it’s meant to turn Shinae into some kind of conniving, cunning person in the likes of Yui, as much as just introduce her to this world, give her a better understanding of how people in this society and business work and thus, start to get an idea of how Yui works. While I don’t think it’s easy to ever be one step ahead of Yui, I do think developing an understanding of her world helps to at least defend herself from Yui - start to see traps in advance and how to avoid them, find ways to evade her clutches, that kind of thing. I do think the idea of Yui holding that over Shinae’s head is terrifying and it’s feels more dangerous than going to Japan with Kousuke, BUT again, the idea is that she would become better equipped to defend herself and fight back. 

Of course, I don’t think Shinae in this moment is prepared to make that choice, and it may be a choice that comes after Yujing’s big scoop is revealed. Perhaps realizing how much more dangerous and powerful Yui (and the Kims) is would make her see what Rand was trying to tell her. I think she hasn’t fully figured out just what is going on with Yui and Rand, either - why would he be pushing her against his wife? But I think the information Yujing has compiled could help her see that bigger picture. If someone like Rand has spent twenty-five years struggling in this battle with her, how could Shinae ever hope to stand against her with even less understanding, with no sense of WHO Yui is or what makes her tick. 

The thing about this that I always struggle with is: how would Nol regard that? We know he feels vehemently about Alyssa idolizing Yui and taking advantage of her connection to the Hiraharas - and yet he stayed with her, knowing that she benefits from him (but that he does, as well). Would he feel the same, if he found out who was enabling Shinae to go to school? Would they talk about it, since Shinae knows how he feels about it? Would he be able to understand, when even he himself doesn’t seem to realize that his father finds himself trapped by the Hiraharas? That’s... stuff I can’t try to predict, because I think everything is possible. 

I promise I’ll get to that a little more.

The narrative benefit of separating the main characters is, of course, that first off, no major development happens where we can’t watch it. Sure, they’ll go about their lives and things will happen, but I don’t expect it to be major things that would make us go WAIT WHAT?! Otherwise, what brings us back itnto the story after time passes? For a long time my idea was that they’d all go their separate ways and maybe even their relationships would be a little damaged, so that when they come back into each others’ lives, part of the story is recovering that, reconciling with the past and maybe finding new futures together. 

Especially regarding Nol and Shinae, I’d wondered if we would see him leave without reconciling with his friends, and that we’d see him and Shinae meet again after some years and Shinae would have to contend with their unresolved past, with feelings she never had a chance to really identify, let alone explore, and the aching beauty of having to figure out who each other after now that they’ve grown and changed, and if there is room in each others’ lives for one another, if they fit in with who they’ve become. And don’t get me wrong - i do like that kind of bittersweet ache, haunted by the ghosts of what never came to be, having to relearn each other. But the more I’ve talked about this (especially a lot with @bittrbuttr, the more I realized that’s not exactly what I want with them. 

Like, it’s good and achey, it really pulls at your heartstrings. But I think that better suits an actual romance story, where the focus of the story and plot is on those feelings and untangling them, on finding their ways back to each other. I don’t think that’s the story of ILY, though. 

I keep dancing around my point and I apologize, but we all know I’m nothing if not circuitous and I promise we’ll get there! 

Here’s the thing: we know that Nol and Shinae are not in the space to become romantically involved. The feelings are there. They are drawn to each other, we know Nol finds comfort and peace in Shinae and that he always struggles to really push her away. We know that Shinae cares so deeply about him that no matter how much he hurts her, she still wants to try, she still wants to be there for him. I find the hope-tinged pain of 223 really poignant in that way - she wanted to SEE HIM, in a moment that was so special, she wanted to share that joy and get a glimpse at who he REALLY is, and he was unable to do that for her. But still she hopes for the best, still she intends to keep trying, to be as persistent as he was, even if she has to find a different approach. 

They are so important to each other, and I’m hoping that might be a catalyst? 

I understand what Nol’s struggle is. It isn’t easy to be vulnerable, to feel weak, especially when those parts of him have been used against him the last 6 years of his life. He is full of so much self-loathing and isn’t comfortable with his own weakness and vulnerability, thus he can’t show it to Shinae, he doesn’t want her to see him like that. He’d rather let her think he just doesn’t need to see what exists between them, that he doesn’t need to see her indulging because it’s enough to just bring her joy - and that itself hurts enough! But I want him to at least be honest about it - tell her that you don’t want her to see that part of you. Will it change things? Probably not significantly, but it puts her one step closer to understanding doesn’t it? 

And so the thinking is - or rather, the hope - is that maybe Nol will realize this? 

We see some of it in 224. Upon Dieter’s arrival, instead of a hey welcome back or anything, it’s an immediate “Did you bump into Yoo?” and when Dieter reassures him that she’s fine, it’s just stuffy, he knows a. it’s not fine and b. he feels bad. I think he felt that regret immediately, when he noted that she’s angry and he took off the blindfold and she wasn’t there. Nol is so used to pushing people away, it’s his first line of defense, but when it works? When he succeeds at driving that wedge? Again it’s that battle of will vs want - he thinks that pushing her away is the right thing to do for her sake, but he doesn’t ACTUALLY want it. 

It’s so difficult to go back to how things used to be having gotten a taste of something better. It’s so difficult to push out everyone when you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in being loved and cared about, and and I think that’s what Nol’s biggest hurdle is. 

Don’t get me wrong; there’s a lot of hurdles with him lol and clearing one doesn’t exactly make the others any easier to clear. But something we’ve seen from Shinae and that I think the story has tried to impress upon is that things are easier when we aren’t alone. Burdens shared are burdens that weigh a little less. We’ve Shinae and her father talking about being a team - about sharing that burden so it’s not so hard for just one of them and distributing that burden more easily. We’ve seen it in Shinae opening up about her problems with her friends, her insecurities that made her doubt her friendships. Her realization that as scary as situation as her sister breaking into her home was, it was made more bearable with a ragtag group of goofs who will protect her. 

Nol needs to learn to share that burden. He’s spent so long treating himself like an island, he hasn’t had the opportunity to remember that it’s easier to endure something when you aren’t exhausted from shouldering that burden all by yourself. There is strength in numbers. He’s been so run ragged from just trying to endure, trying to get by, trying to survive and how is he to ever fight back against Yui when he’s exhausted just from treading waters? 

I mean, ultimately Nol needs to learn to love himself, but I think it’s easier to tackle allowing others to love him, first. Allowing himself to share the burden, to show those weaknesses and let people have his back. Be able to slump over and know that someone will help keep you standing, you know? And maybe through that, he can find it in him to start loving himself. Of course, he has other problems he needs to address; in order to love himself, he has to forgive himself, and I hope that Yujing’s article can help in that area. I’m sure he carries the guilt of his mother’s alleged suicide, and maybe he was even made to believe that. It wouldn’t surprise me if the time he spent in the mental facility only served to make him feel worse about his existence, made  him believe he was the root cause of the bad. Maybe even, like Nana, he had an argument with his mother before he death and felt that if they hadn’t argued, maybe she would never have made that choice?

Clearly that’s still a little complicated for us to fully dig into, but as horrible as learning that maybe her death was not a choice she made is to learn (I cannot imagine having made this peace with someone I loved reaching a point so dark they made that choice, only to find out that it was, possibly, murder. How do you deal with that? What do you do with all that new grief, that new anguish?), I think maybe, if he learned that she didn’t choose that, it might help free him from his shackles of guilt. 

But I think until he can learn to forgive himself, until he can make that peace, couldn’t letting people love him help? Wouldn’t it be better for him to move forward knowing that he has people who will not only defend him, but who can ease the weight of his burdens? 

As dramatic as Nol and Shinae separating on these rocky grounds, unable to fully reconcile, makes for a good, dramatic romance, I think it’s much better for Nol to move on as a team. To let himself rely on others isn’t something he can learn over night, of course, but isn’t it better for him to enter a scary phase of his life knowing that there ARE people who he can talk to about it? There ARE people he can eventually let see those weak parts of him? 

So my ultimate hope for Nol’s extension is that in that time, he and Shinae find that peace after all. I still can’t help but feel like the three-day-extension is significant, because why else include it, if it was to pass without event? Especially because, depending on how it works (is it 3 additional days INCLUDING the 22nd or 3 days extra, beginning the 23rd?) we’ll hit the holidays. That just feels... too significant, right? 

I want Nol to grapple with his feelings, let his fear take over a little. Is he really as ready to lose Shinae as he tries to be? He seemed to regret hurting her, hanging his head after Dieter reassured him she was fine, even though she refuses to come back in to the room. And I can’t help but feel like it’s significant that she’s still lingering in the waiting room. My thinking is that Nana will get involved - she knows that Nol is upset about someone, she knows other friends have been watching over him, she knows there’s a friend who isn’t coming back in. She can read him well, so it’s not like it’s difficult to read that maybe they had a fight, that he was brusque and brushed her off the way he tries to do even to Nana. Will she go out there to see who this friend is? Will they talk? I feel like they HAVE to - not just because the fandom has waited for it, but because I think Nana can probably glean that Shinae (”Yoo” lol) must be someone important, if he’s acting like that. 

And look. Did Nana see the blush? *I* saw the blush, I’m not getting over that. I’m sorry but he lmao pushed her away, regretted hurting her, and he’s still getting flustered because he pictured her mouth. BUDDYYYYYYYYYYYY. YOU’RE A MESS. 

I don’t expect her to fully intervene in like, trying to make things happen way lmao I think it’s more like... Nana knows better than anyone that Nol is a difficult person to love. I say this with affection, because it’s true. He pushes people away, he deflects from himself, he never opens up, it’s hard to read what’s going on in his head. And Nana also knows of the darkness that looms. She was right there when he pleaded guilty, concerned about his reasoning. She’s listened to him talk about how maybe everything would be better if he didn’t exist. She knows that the darkness has a strong grip on him. So who better than her to encourage Shinae, to thank her for her patience and tenacity, for sticking with Nol even with the way he acts? I’d like to see a little bit of that comfort between them, some reassurance that Shinae is, in fact, making the right choice. She oscillates so wildly between her extreme emotions; sadness and melancholy that caring is not enough and how it sometimes comes out as anger when she can’t find a better way to channel it. We know she doesn’t really regret planning that birthday celebration - she’s just hurt. And I think it would be a big help to have Nana tell her how much it means to see Nol with friends who care about him despite how prickly and difficult he is, how she worries about him and is glad there are people who care about him. I think it would really encourage Shinae that her resolve is right - that she just has to find another way to approach him, that it’s worth the effort. 

And at that same time, yes, I want Nol’s fear to kick his ass. I want him to realize he faces the very real reality of losing someone who cares so much about him, who is willing to put up with him because of how much she cares and how special she is to him - and that she wants him to see it, too. I want him to fear losing the comfort and peace she brings him. I want him to have to finally face head on his want vs what he thinks he deserves, and see what a future without someone like her is like. Can he bear to return to that kind of loneliness? Can he bear losing her concern? How it feels for her to take notice of him, to probe, to listen? 

Like, at the risk of getting really corny and dramatic, that’s what it comes down to. I don’t want Nol to come back in a few years and decide he’s ready to face all of that. I want him to move on from this point knowing he’s not alone. I want him to be able to face prison knowing that he’s not so alone, that there is someone who will always be there to support him. I think that’s what makes the most sense. Leaving on their current circumstances works great if it’s a romance and that’s the main story - but making up, talking, being honest? That makes more sense for THIS story, where Nol starts to grow NOW, where he starts to make those important steps that will help him find his way to healing, and more important, that will help him face the forces that taunt and haunt him.

He doesn’t have to be completely honest with Shinae, because I don’t think he’s ready. I don’t think he’ll tell her that his mother took her life, and that he believes it’s his fault. But I think it would be enough to tell her the truth he couldn’t stay to her face - that he doesn’t want her to see him like that, that it’s still hard for him to open up that way, that it’s still SCARY - but that he doesn’t want to push her away, that he’s sorry he keeps hurting her. We could even go more dramatic with a callback to the hospital scene - that he’s sorry he isn’t good enough and is undeserving of her (AND LET HER REASSURE HIM THAT’S NOT TRUE THAT HE IS). BUT JUST. IDK I WANT HIM TO FACE IT. ADMIT IT.

He doesn’t have to tell her he likes her. That’s fine. Just reiterate what she means to him! One moment he’s telling her she’s special to him, that he cares about her, next moment he’s telling her it’s okay he doesn’t have to look he’s fine like this. STOP JERKING HER AROUND ;~; lmao like don’t get me wrong. I GET IT. I UNDERSTAND HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

But I also want to see them move into our time skips with a sense of understanding and peace, you know? I don’t want want Nol to face his fears alone anymore. I want him to let someone stand by his side. I want him to accept how good it feels to rest on her shoulder and know that it’s okay, she’s there.

I HAVE FEELINGS OKAY I JUST. I WANT THEM TO BE ABLE TO FIND T HAT STRENGTH IN EACH OTHER, TO BE STRONGER TOGETHER. 

And to call back to my earlier point lmao I like to think if they get to that point, then maybe he would understand, if Shinae accepts Yui’s offer. Maybe he would see how it’s different from Alyssa, that Shinae made a choice to protect herself, that it’s not about the idolatry, it’s not a self-serving choice, but one that protects her and enables her to fight back. Knowing that they are on the same side, that Shinae isn’t a doe-eyed naïve girl about to be taken advantage of again, but one who wants to fight back against the people who hurt her and others like her. 

We’re about halfway to 3/5 of the way into this story, and I think that’s a good point for Shinae and Nol to join forces. 

AndlookthisiscompletelydaydreamingbutiftherewasaChristmaskissIwouldcertainlynotobject

PLEASE I JUUUUUUUUUST i want to see them on the same page, I want to see them moving forward TOGETHER. I don’t want Nol to keep walking on his own. I don’t want him to just accept Shinae at his side, either; I want him to CHOOSE to let her choose his side. ;A; 

GOD. PLS. BARKS AT THE MOON I’m just ready for them to bE A TEAM I’M READY FOR NOL TO BE SELFISH AND TO GO AFTER WHAT HE WANTS I WANT HIM TO CHOOSE COMFORT AND SECURITY OVER PUNISHMENT I WANT HIM TO REALIZE THERE IS STRENGTH IN COMPANIONSHIP. I know being close to him puts her at risk - but he needs to see that no matter what, she’s at risk, and isn’t it better if she’s in danger with someone who can help, than to be all alone with it? I WANT HIM TO FACE THAT FEAR OF HIS AND FIND THAT MAYBE HIS DESIRE, HIS WANT, HIS NEEDS ARE EVEN BIGGER. That it’s better to find peace with her than spend the whole time afraid. Isn’t that the thing? He’s always afraid - afraid of someone else getting hurt, afraid of another opportunity being stolen away, afraid of the next time Yui will find a way to hurt him. BUT TO BE ABLE TO FIND COMFORT WITH SHINAE? 

Please. Just open up - be honest!!!!!!! But most importantly APOLOGIZE. Apologize for hurting her, apologize for pushing her away.

I realize, based on what she said on the hospital roof, that maybe he won’t make that choice, that maybe her persistence has to be a long game, that she does have to wait for him to forget to put the mask back on.

But wouldn’t it be so nice if he chose to move forward with her, instead of alone, to face their nightmare and battles together? ;~; 

[nin-twst]

Yu and the Three Mers - Part 1

Part 1 - Floyd - As Yu tries to find some peace at the Mostro Lounge, a bored eel barges in and whisks her away. At least she was able to finish her work before she was taken...

A/N: Happy MerMay! I've always wanted to do something but I never had the right motivation... Now I have the Octotrio! There will be a total of three parts (I think that's pretty obvious,,,) so be on the look out!

for the title, I tried to make a "mer" pun out of musketeers but it wasn't working so i gave up and just left it as is lmao

**fyi, the yu in this (the one from my main fic) is afab and agender, so they don't really care about what people identify them as. so just some context for stuff that happens later: everyone thinks yu is a guy because of the way they act, but yu tends to refer to themselves as female. in all honesty, they just don't care**

have fun <3

“Shrimpy~!” Floyd pounced, landing square on her back. “Let’s go have some fun!”

Yu looked up from her assignment. She was currently finishing up translating an essay from Sam in the Mostro Lounge, wanting to escape the distractions that were the first-years. As much as she loved them, they had no concept of self-control, and they never notice when her stress levels are getting too high to deal with their level of energy. Instead of lashing out at them, she secludes herself in different spots, spending much needed time to herself as she cooled down.

Floyd continued to lean his body weight on her as she kept silent. “C’mon, Shrimpy~! We gotta hurry before Azul comes and yells at us again!”

“Us?” Yu raised an eyebrow, going back to her work so she could at least try and finish it before the ell dragged her off to who knows where. “Why would he yell at the both of us? I’m a paying customer right now, you know.”

He pouted. “Ah, who knows what goes on in that octopus brain of his! He’s always so strict and mean. Now hurry up and get up so we can go! Hurry!”

She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead, she just poked his shoulder. “I can’t get up with this giant eel weighing me down.”

His eyes lit up and he grabbed her from the waist, hauling her body over his shoulder. “Finally!”

From her position, she caught Jade’s attention. Once they made eye contact, she shouted, “Watch my stuff for me, please!”

The other eel simply nodded his head, waving at her as she was pulled away from her planned peaceful afternoon.

<🦈>-~*~-<🦐>-~*~-<🍄>-~*~-<🐙>

They wandered around the campus aimlessly, Floyd occasionally picking a fight with passing students. Yu just looked the other way. Wow, look at these flowers on the side of the path! How pretty! Maybe she could pick some to give to Jade later as thanks for watching her stuff. Nah, he probably wouldn’t want these. Maybe she can check Sam’s shop for some mushrooms?

“Shrimpy, I’m done! Let’s go!”

Yu turned back around, ignoring the mess of bodies on the floor. Catching up with the eel, she took out a napkin, tapping his shoulder. “Lean down for a bit. You got some stuff on your face.”

“Hm?” Despite his mischievous expression, he complied, leaning down so Yu could reach his face. 

There wasn’t much blood, but it was enough to cause some concern, especially on someone like Floyd. Once clean, she patted his head. “Alright, we can go now.”

Floyd hummed, taking her hand in his and swung their arms as they continued to amble around the campus. As they wandered, a sudden idea popped into her head.

“Hey Floyd,” Yu questioned. “How about visiting the beach?”

“The beach?!” He exclaimed. “Is Shrimpy going to swim with me?”

She shrugged. “If you want. I’ve never swam in the ocean before, though.”

“I’ll teach you!” His expression suddenly dropped. “Oh. We can’t go.”

“Hm?”

“We need the Headmaster’s approval to leave campus.”

“Oh,” Yu smirked. “I can deal with that. Do you wanna go?”

Floyd just returned her smirk. “What is Shrimpy up to now, hm~?”

<🦈>-~*~-<🦐>-~*~-<🍄>-~*~-<🐙>

“No,” Crowley crossed his arms.

“You’ve let me go before,” Yu mirrored his actions. “It’s only the beach.”

He pointed a finger at her companion, who stood just outside the door. “He just beat up a bunch of freshmen! Why didn’t you stop him??”

“The flowers caught my attention.”

“For ten minutes?!”

She glared at him. “Yeah, like how it’s taking half a year to give me the reward you promised me after dealing with Savanaclaw.”

That silenced Crowley. Even with his mask, one could tell that he was sweating. 

“Fine,” he sighed. “Just come back before midnight.”

<🦈>-~*~-<🦐>-~*~-<🍄>-~*~-<🐙>

It’s been a while since she’s been to the ocean, even in her old world. The salty breeze passed through her hair as she took in the setting sun in front of her. She wished she brought the ghost camera with her; what kind of images would it project? If it was just her and her mind, she could disassociate to the sound of the waves for a long time.

If.

Sadly, she wasn’t alone, and said person wasn’t one to leave her alone. 

Floyd grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the water. “Let’s go for a swim! I borrowed this potion from Azul so we can go under the water for a long time!”

“Borrow?” How do you borrow a potion? It’s not like you can give it back…

Oh.

“Whatever!” He shoved the opening of the bottle into her mouth. “Drink so we can swim together!”

Drinking the stolen goods, Yu took off her shirt and wrapped her phone in it, leaving it slightly hidden in the sand in case someone came by. It didn’t seem like this beach got much traffic, but it was better to be safe than sorry. 

“Woah,” Floyd commented. “Is this why you didn’t swim with your friends?”

“Hm?” Yu glanced down at her chest. She had asked Sam for some swimming clothes, but all he could get was a wetsuit.  “Oh. No, I just had stuff to do.”

He giggled, circling around her to give her a hug. “Wah~... So Shrimpy’s been a girl this whole time, huh?”

“I guess. It doesn’t really matter to me.” She pinched the hand that was squeezing her breast. “Hey. You probably shouldn’t do that. That’s called sexual harassment.”

He tilted his head. “Huh? But I thought you said it doesn’t matter.”

“To me, yeah.” She let his wandering hands rest on her waist. “I don’t really care about my gender or whatever, but other girls do. You should be careful if you want to squeeze them. It would be like… squeezing their tails?”

It seemed the improvised comparison worked, his eyebrows scrunching in disgust. “Oh, ew. Okay, I’ll be more careful from now on.”

In no time, Yu was dragged into the water, pulled far from the shore by the fast eel. It took a while for her to adjust, but the moment she opened her eyes, she left behind any regrets she had about this trip. At first, she was just going along with Floyd and his antics so he didn't direct his frustration at her. She’s seen many kids act like him back in her old world, and she knew each kid needed to be dealt with differently. Yu hadn’t been around Floyd long enough, so she hadn’t learned how to deal with his mood swings yet. Picking fights with the other students, being too touchy, ignoring everyone else’s responsibilities to do whatever he wants… She turned a blind eye to his actions. (It helped that the freshmen were talking shit about her, he tends to show he cares through his actions, and it was about time for a break from all the work she had been doing. Sitting down for five hours straight was probably not good on her spine.)

She feels a little bad for ignoring him, but what could she do? She needed to focus on Azul and his impending doom, so the tweels got pushed to the side for their boss’s sake. Now that that was all done and taken care of, Yu had been avoiding the Lounge because, to be completely honest, she didn’t have the energy to deal with the two of them. If anything, she’s glad that Floyd is the one bothering her, since he’s a lot easier to read than his brother. 

“Hello~?” A finger repeatedly tapped her forehead, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Anyone in there?”

“Oh, sorry.” She rubbed the spot where she was poked. “What did you say?”

He hummed, circling around Yu. “Nothing~. You were making a funny face earlier, but now I’m bored. Wanna race?”

She scoffed. “Uh- no? I’m definitely going to get lost if you swim ahead of me. How far out are we, anyways?”

The eel just shrugged, lacing their fingers together as he resumed pulling her along to wherever he was going. They probably weren’t that far from shore, right? They’ve only been in the water for…

“Hey, Floyd. How long have we been swimming?”

Instead of answering, a smile started to grow on his face.

“Floyd? You do know that this potion doesn’t last-”

“Why should I tell you? We can just stay here until-”

Yu held up a hand, expression becoming serious. “Name your price. What do I have to do in order for you to swim us back to the beach so I don’t die?”

“Hm…” He had let go of her arm and was now circling her again. “I dunno. What are you gonna give me?”

“If I ever cook with Jade again I can give you a mushroom-free dish.”

“Hm…”

“And make Azul’s extra mushroom-y.”

“Deal!”

Yu knew the eel was holding back when they first got into the water, but nothing could ever prepare her for the speed at which Floyd swam at. It took no time at all to get back to shore so they could resurface. With how fast they were going, Yu wondered how far out they actually were. (According to all of her math knowledge, pretty far, but there was no need to process that knowledge right now.)

As she waited for Floyd to gain his legs again, she checked her phone. It was definitely darker than when they first went under, but Yu could never instinctively tell based on just the sky. It was about three when they left… Take away five… Carry the two…

“How long was that potion supposed to last again?”

Floyd brushed off his pants as he stood up, his potion finally taking effect. “Um… I think Azul said those ones were five hours.”

Five… 

“Holy shit I almost died.” There was one minute left until they hit the five hour mark. “Floyd, what the hell? Do you want me to die?”

“That would make things interesting, wouldn’t it?” He smiled at her, his sharp teeth showing.

Instead of answering, she picked up her stuff and swiftly left, heading towards the mirror back to Night Raven College. Floyd just laughed, chasing after her. “What’s wrong, Shrimpy? Wait up!”

“No thanks!” Yu threw over her shoulder. “I don’t want to die today!”

“Eh~? You wouldn’t have died! I had an extra potion with me!”

“You were an eel! You had no pockets!”

“Oh right. Whoops!”

As Yu passed through the mirror, she briefly turned back, a soft smile dancing on her lips. It seemed that Floyd was in a better mood. She could tell that something was bothering him earlier, but she didn’t think they were close enough where she could pry.

“Caught ya!” Floyd picked her up on the other side of the mirror with a twirl. “Where’s my little shrimp running off to? You owe me dinner, remember?”

Yu didn’t even try to struggle out of his grip. “Dinner?”

“Eh?” He pouted. “We made a deal and all! Man, maybe this is why Azul writes down all his contracts…”

“Oh.” She didn’t expect him to cash that in this early. “I didn’t know you wanted to do it today.”

He just smiled, walking towards the Octavinelle dorms. “C’mon, I’m starving!”

Yu huffed, ruffling his hair as she let herself get thrown over the eel’s shoulder. “Okay, okay. I need to get my stuff, anyways.”

[sky-kiss]

twenty questions for fic writers

@makesometime tagged me. Complain to her. Now you have to suffer.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? I have 40. Which shocks me. Gun to my head, I couldn’t have told you about more than 15 of them. So that’s a surprise.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 187,262.

3. What fandoms do you write for? I have what one would call idiot-brain. I can only focus on one fandom at a time. I come and go at the whims of my hyper-fixation. I’ve written one fic for a lot of fandoms.

              1) Baldur’s Gate (The new hotness. My love. My dear one. My rotten soldier).

              2) Final Fantasy XV

              3) Fallout 4 (Nick, my beloved)

              4) Avatar: The Last Airbender (Baffling)

              5) Persona 5

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

              1) Personal Space: Cloud/Aerith at 748

              2) Law and Order: Nick/Sole Survivor 649

              3) Cigarette Day Dreams: Nick/Sole     571

              4) Some Old/Something New: Nick/Sole 412

              5: A Splash of Color: Cloud/Aerith 386

My top five is dominated by Nick and Cloud/Aerith, hahah. But, with a little work, we can frikkin’ shove the Raphael fics up there and dethrone the robot silver fox and the babies. Love my niche ass pairings.

5. Do you respond to comments? Almost always, yes. It’s fun to engage.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending: /stares in one-shot. Uh. Maybe Ash and Ember? It’s more bittersweet than angst, but it’s still the end of Dark Souls 3. So it’s going to be sad.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending: Chance. It’s a short one for Full Metal Alchemist. Hohenheim comes back and Trisha doesn’t die.

8. Do you get hate on fics: I’m very lucky. I’ve never received hate on Ao3 or here on Tumblr. This is not an invitation to start though, I swear to god.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do write smut. It’s not my favorite thing to do, and I think it’s one of my weaknesses. I’ve done some kink stuff, but don’t post most of it. That might change. Thanks, Ascended Fiend Raphael.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Not posted. I do have an Avatar/Westworld fic on Ao3, which is a batty combo.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not directly. Pretty sure I’ve inspired some fandom trends before, but like. I write in very small corners of fandom.  We share one dumb brain.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have, yes. A Dreamless Sleep was translated into Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I’ve collaborated and had shared universes, but don’t think I’ve directly co-written. I’m a control freak.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? I don’t frikkin know, dude. I like a lot of ships. Currently, it’s Raphael/Durge or Raphael/Haarlep/Durge. All time? Zero clue.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Doing It to Death will never be finished lol. I look at it and my soul hurts for Evelyn, but it ain’t happening. I have other WIP's on Ao3 and they will never be finished either, but like. I don't care about them.

16. What are your writing strengths? I like to think it’s my characterization. Maybe scene setting or dialogue. I don’t know. I hate my writing 99% of the time. Like, I need enough time apart from the work. Once I’ve forgotten it’s mine, I can appreciate it a little more.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Pacing and plot. And smut. Pacing long-form fanfiction absolutely baffles me, just because it differs from the pacing of a traditional novel. It’s really challenging to balance, and I have no idea how to do it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I don’t have a problem with it, but probably wouldn’t risk it. Maybe if someone else handled the translation?

19. First fandom you wrote for? The Mummy, haha. I was 14.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written? UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I’ll do. Three.

              1: Sex, Love, & the Infinite Void: Raph/Durge. It’s the longest story I have on Ao3, and the only multichapter one that’s made it passed chapter 2. And I’ve enjoyed hell politics and character building. I want to finish this damn thing.

              2: The Outsider: Evelyn/Corpo!V. I love Evelyn, and it was fun to experiment with a more cybernoir writing style.

              3: I Don’t Think About You Anymore: Raph/Tav. It was just a fun and clipped style to write. It was very loose, free, and I’m proud of the end result.

I'll tag @kiss-inferna and @adarlingmess if they'd like to suffer this.

[gabriels-golden-kazoo]

Tag nine five three people you want to get to know better, I’m not sure how many of my mutuals have done one, so sorry if you already have!

Tagged by @woundlingus thank you so much for thinking of me, this is the first time I’ve done something like this!

Last song: Boyfriend by The Undercover Hippy

Favourite colour: God that’s such a scary question, I never know how to answer so I’ll go with a really dark red/burgundy because that’s what I keep dyeing my hair

Currently reading: The Watkins Book of English Folktales by Neil Philips (I love the one about the Ghost at the Dance)

Currently Watching: I started Sons of Anarchy because I just finished the Love is Blind Uk version, but I’m honestly not that much of a fan so might go back to watching the Punisher

Last Movie: The Hangover

Sweet, Spicy, or Savoury: Impossible to pick just one because it really depends on my tastes that day, but at the moment I’d have to say savoury

Relationship status: Single

Current obsession: God there’s so many but my Spider-Man x Deadpool sabriel au because it’s to ships I adore combined, and Wade Wilson is extremely Gabriel coded so I’m having fun writing his chapter (he gets to say all the things he thinks in my other fic with zero repercussions)

Tea or Coffee: Gonna have to say tea, stayed in a hotel a week ago for a night and took all the herbal tea bags I could get my hands on and am obsessed, sadly I ran out so am stuck with the usual stuff but will be buying more, I do like coffee but only when it’s cold and covered in cream and salted caramel sauce or when it’s in a cake lmao

Last thing I googled: The weather forecast for today, went on a two hour long walk and wanted to dress accordingly, unfortunately I didn’t and can now feel all the seams in my shirt, nothing worse then summer when you are easily overstimulated

Tagging: @samss-lost-shoe @captainkatya @nobodymitskigabriel

Once again sorry if you have already done it, I really don’t have that many mutuals so this is more of a shot in the dark!

[flowerslut]

17 & 23?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

I know people probably want me to answer this for roots but roots is so canon-compliant that getting into the little details really doesn’t add much to the story. instead, I’m gonna answer this one about call of the night!!!

what’s fun about call of the night is that imo it is canon-compliant, technically, if you squint, up until the late 18th century when I introduce cotn!Esme (who is honestly just a completely different character at this point). her presence, and her gift, is what alters the timeline and creates that canon divergence and why all the other tiny little details diverge as well. when vampires live alongside humans then suddenly (almost) everyone’s backstory has to change to fit that narrative!! so I love that most the cullens’ origin stories are so different—I think edward’s is the only one that hasn’t been talked about, but if it doesn’t come up in later stories then I’ll definitely share that one day—because I get to be more creative in that fun way that writing AUs allows!

I’ve been asked lots of little lore-related questions over the years, and since there’s going to be such a long gap in between books two and three, and there’s so many goddamn details in the first two fics, I’m going to put a little guide together at some point this or next year. it’ll basically be a CotN wiki when it’s done. that way, people who don’t feel like rereading before the novella or 3rd installment can just click around and refresh their memory. (I’ve also been told that a lot of Esme Details™️ are quite unclear, and that’s from people who’ve read CotN multiple times 💀)

hmmmm details details. I’m trying to think of things I can share that won’t spoil later stuff. I feel like so many people over the years have really asked all the right questions so far; if you browse through that link enough you'll get plenty of mindless bonus information! one thing that adds nothing to the story and that will never be mentioned in the text is that a few months ago lilia and I decided that instead of 9/11 never happening (boring, predictable) the same thing just happens on 9/12 (hilarious, galaxy-brained). so no, 9/11 isn't canon in the cotn!verse, but 9/12 is

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

I probably do most of my writing in my bed even though, for the sake of my back, I try to sit at my desk more now as an adult. but alas, old habits die hard, yknow? I enjoy writing at night more and I love love love having the lights dimmed, candles lit, and some sort of ambient music playing in the background. I can’t listen to music with lyrics bc it distracts my brain too much, and I am not the type of person who can just “sit down and write for 20 minutes each day.” I struggle a lot with transitions when I don't have a strict plan/schedule for my day and that’s REALLY bad with writing. so when I DO write, I lowkey need to have at least a few hours of time set aside because I will write nonstop for that entire chunk of time. once I get going, stopping is something I only do because I have to, and rarely because I want to or because I just can’t go any longer. that's one of my weird superpowers: the ability to write for hours on end and get all the words out that I need to say. (and often times, too many words that aren’t even Needed)

but with all that said, now that I have a living room and a kitchen I can sit in (first time since 2019) I’ve been able to write in both!!!! which has been nice and refreshing!!!! unfortunately I haven’t been able to write too much since moving (even answering these asks has eaten into my carefully budgeted time) but i'm hoping to be able to get a few stories churned out (yes, including the cotn novella) this summer before the semester starts in the fall and podcast resumes!

weird questions for writers!