#came back to edit a few typos lmao

[infamous-if]

.1

As won by the poll, the MC x Seven first kiss drabble is first! A few things: 1) this drabble is fucking long sorry and 2) though this is what I imagine their first kiss to be like, I don't want to go as far as saying it's completely canon, mostly because I'm sure it can go many different ways with different types of MC's. And 3rd) I tried really hard to make this fluffy and not so serious and I'm sure you can see the shift where I thought 'oh crap' but...I am not a fluff writer and I will be working on that lmao 4th) as always, I do not edit my drabbles and I really only do one draft of them so excuse the wordy/awkward sentences or typos or any of that sort and finally, sorry about that last line lmfao

“Have any of you seen Seven?”

That’s the question you’ve been asking all night since your band left The Golden Spoon, a bar in the crux of the city. It had one of your best audiences in recent memory; there were no lulls in engagement, no dull moments that made you question yourself. People loved the songs and danced their hearts out, some even asked for pictures once the set was over. Fame, however small, feels pretty fucking good. 

That holds the most truth in Seven. After the set was over, they were on a high, laughing and talking to anyone who offered them even a sliver of their time. That’s usually how it goes with a successful set--Seven becomes a magnet for all sorts of attention. Unreachable, untouchable. No wonder you barely had a chance to talk to them after leaving.

It didn’t bother you, considering you were all heading to the bar owner’s apartment for a small after-party. You just assumed you’d talk to Seven there, considering it’s an apartment. Eight-hundred square feet at most. Small enough that you could spot Seven’s familiar red bandana in any crowd. 

Or not. 

The group you just asked share equally confused looks and answer with varying shrugs. 

You huff, pushing through the slightly sparse but growing crowd. You maneuver through the kitchen and ask a haggle of women who claim they didn’t even see Seven arrive. The man standing alone in the hall? Saw Seven once and never again.

You’re growing frustrated.

With every answer, your impatient grows. Where the hell could Seven be? You came with them but were quickly swept away by the hordes of people throwing various questions and praise your way. Seven hasn’t responded to any of your texts either, which sprouts up a small seed of worry in you. 

“Hey, MC!” 

You look up to see Jazzy beckoning you over to the couch in the living room, where most people have congregated. In the center stands Rowan, gesticulating wildly as he tells a story from high school...one you’re sure you’ve heard many times before.

Jazzy waves you over again and you sigh. Half your mind still on Seven’s whereabouts, you stride through the living room and take a seat in the corner of the couch next to Iris, half your body pressed against the armrest.

“…and that’s when I had to sit down because I kid you not, I was about to fucking eat concrete…”

The group laughs as Rowan weaves a tale of failed skateboarding antics. The names of you and your friends come up a few times, and whenever Seven is mentioned you can’t help but jolt and look around in hopes that they slipped back inside at some point in the story. With every mention, your body deflates further and further.

Until your phone buzzes. 

You turn it around, only to catch Seven finally responding to your million texts asking where they are.

Seven: Roof

You quirk a brow at the message—the one word that says so much—and type something quickly in return.

You: Thought you died.

Another buzz.

Seven: Can’t get rid of me that easily.

You snort, though no one else is laughing. You lower your phone a bit to appear engaged but send back a quick text. 

You: Aw, really? I was hoping I’d finally be free of you.

Seven: Har-har. Are you coming or not? I’m feeling lonelyyyy

Your heart races and another laugh bubbles out of you when Seven sends a GIF of someone ungracefully falling on the floor. You didn’t realize how much of a relief it is to hear from them until now, seeing Seven’s text on your screen. Is your body that attuned to them? That, whenever they’re gone, you can feel their absence, so palpable it’s as if a part of you is missing? When they’re near, you feel more than complete. Drowning in so much joy that it’s almost overwhelming?

What do you call that?

You shake away the thoughts and send a reply: Coming. 

Brushing yourself off when you stand, you catch your friends looking at you. You shoot Rowan a small smile and walk out of the living room, where you quickly hear him go into another story about who-knows-what. At least the party seems interested.

Another buzz. 

Seven: Bring some bears please

You: Bears? 

Seven: Beers. Whatever. 

Shaking your head, you put your phone away and divert your path to the kitchen where you swipe two bottles of beer. You use the end of the counter to pop open the tops before making your way out of the apartment…only to soon realize you don’t actually don’t know where you’re going.

Dangling the beers between two fingers, you take out your phone. 

You: Where am I going?

Seven: Are you serious? It’s a roof. Just go up.

Seven: lol

You: I will kill you.

Seven: OMG you really are trying to get rid of me

You: Seven Lawless

Seven: Using my whole name? Just shivered. The roof entrance is down the hall to your left. Ignore the signs telling you…not to go to the roof. 

You move to the door and sure enough, there is a large sign warning of any trespassers. 

You: You mean the sign saying that ‘violators will be fined and/or arrested?’

Seven: Ignore it. It’s just a very strong suggestion

Seven: (trust me) 

Scoffing, you push it open with your shoulder and go up the single flight of stairs to the roof. Stepping outside grants you a cacophony of sounds; car horns, the sound of the wind rushing past your cheeks, music playing from Seven’s phone. 

“I’m starting to think you look at the floor plan of every place you enter just to find the roof,” you say by way of greeting as you approach them.

Seven looks behind their shoulder from their spot on the ledge, their previously blank face widening into a sly grin. 

Your heart races at the image of Seven smiling at you, though you quickly push it down. You don’t know what’s been happening but lately, everything Seven does pulls a reaction from you. A simple look makes your stomach squeeze. A brush of their hand sends goosebumps up your arms. A smile can throw your whole body out of whack. 

“I needed a break,” Seven replies, turning back around to face ahead. As you get closer, you see their legs dangling over the edge. It’s not too far below—the building is four stories—but it’s still enough to give you vertigo when you go to sit next to them. “Someone asked me to sign their divorce papers."

Your lip twitches as you hand them a bottle. “Did you?”

Seven looks over to you, gaze glittering beneath stray strands of dark hair that fall in front of their eyes. “Yes.” 

You laugh and Seven swats your following hand away in your attempt to shove them to the side. “Woah, woah!” Their brief panic from the possibility of falling is laced with humor and you let out a small, ‘sorry!’ that Seven waves off. 

"Signing divorce papers," you muse. "I wonder what we'll sign when we're global rockstars."

Their humor subsides, and their smile weakens as they toy with their bottle. You wait, silent, as Seven inhales through their nose and says, “Do you ever regret it?” They gesture vaguely around them. “Doing…all of this?”

You face ahead and think about it, stretching your legs out in front of you. “Not really. Do you?”

Seven takes a swig of their drink before setting it down next to them, lifting both shoulders in a quick shrug. “No. This is all I ever wanted to do.”

“Then why don’t you sound so convinced?”

Their eyes cut to yours and they snort a little. 

“Hey, you brought it up,” you prod.

They huff through their nose, eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. “Shut up.” Once again, their humor is brief, and you start to think that there must be something within Seven that’s torn, fighting to come out. It wouldn’t surprise you; Seven has always loved too much, hurt too much, felt too much. They call it a Fatal Flaw, how attached they get, but really, you find it endearing. It’s rare to find people like them in this world. You wish they knew that. “Ah, I don’t want to ruin the mood.”

You nudge them. “Say it.” 

They begin rocking back and forth in thought, nudging you back every time they move. “Sometimes…when I’m on stage…” They clear their throat. “Sometimes I feel so lonely.”

Oh.

You expected many things, but not that. 

Lonely? Seven is lonely? Granted, Seven hasn’t had the greatest home life, but you assumed that they found an abundance of people to surround themselves with. Hell, they looked like they were having the time of their life after the gig!

Seven’s frowning now, their eyes glazing over with an emotion you can’t read. “I see all those faces and I love it. The attention. The way they sing our songs. I feel fucking alive, you know?”

You nod, hanging on to every word. You understand them; the feeling of music and standing on that stage, singing emotions and states of being that can’t be explained in any other way but through song.

“But then I look back and…” They chew on their inner cheek, brows furrowing as they evidently search for the right words. “I wonder if they see me. Like really see me.” 

Your lips part. For a moment, you’re speechless. “Sev—“

“And I know it’s unfair to think that,” Seven breaks in quickly. “They’re fans. I shouldn’t put so much responsibility on them, but it just….fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“No!” you say. Seven jolts and whips their head toward you, giving you a look of alarm. “I get what you’re saying.” You adjust to face them completely. “I feel it too, sometimes. You just want to be seen not as Seven Lawless but…” You clear your throat. “Seven Duckstein. You know?”

Seven holds your gaze. Their eyes sparkle under the fairy lights that are strung around the lattice detailing on the roof. As their eyes dart around your face, searching for something, you wonder if it was wrong to bring up their real name. It’s always been a sore topic for them, amongst other things. You just hope Sev understands what you’re trying to say. 

They crack a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”

You let out a small breath of relief, grateful Seven understands what you mean. You gaze around, looking down at the street below. Distantly, you can feel Seven’s eyes still on you. Your skin burns under their stare, but you do your best to keep looking at the tiny people running inside shops, chatting, and slipping into cars. Living entire lives that you will never know the depth of. 

You wonder if you have learned the true depth of Seven Duckstein. Even after all these years…they still seem like a mystery to you. 

And you sort of hate how exciting that feels. As if uncovering the hidden layers of your best friend is something to look forward to. 

“I’m not lonely with you, though.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet theirs. You laugh a little. “How could you be? I’m with you 24/7.”

Seven rolls their eyes and it’s their turn to shove you. “Can you be serious a sec? I’m trying to tell you I appreciate you.” They drag the syllables on the word ‘appreciate,’ trying to emphasize the severity of the moment. 

You raise your palms in mock surrender. “Keep going. I’m listening.”

They pause for a beat. “No. I’m nervous.”

“What!”

“Too much attention.”

“You’re a performer?!”

They raise a finger. “That’s different.” 

“Oh, please—“

Somehow you and Seven fall in a lighthearted round of bickering, swatting each other’s hands as you playfully fight. That fighting soon turns into tickling, and Seven’s usually even voice turns into high-pitched squeals that you wish you could record to use against them later.

You don’t know how it happened, but somehow Seven ends up on their back, sighing happily at the darkened sky that hovers over you both. You lean on your side, your body pressed against Seven’s, and rest your head on your hand.

“Come onnnn,” you prod, poking their rib. They squirm. “Tell me how much you appreciate me.” Your voice softens as Seven’s humor dies. “Tell me how you really feel.”

You meant for it to come out as a joke, but the delicacy in your voice betrays the true intention that’s hiding deep within you.

Seven’s eyes slowly, hesitantly, glide away from the stars pulsing in the sky to meet your eyes. With their hair framing their face, their small smile, and the glare of the fairy lights dancing on their face, they have never looked so vulnerable.

So…different. 

“I don’t think I should.”

That has you stiffening. A flare of panic rises in your stomach. What does Seven mean by that? Part of you knows but…no. You’re being ridiculous. 

They turn their head away, rolling their lips. It’s silent for a moment. You convince yourself Seven won’t speak until they say, “I’m afraid. Of you.”

“What?” you blurt, eyes wide. You hardly know how to act right now. This conversation has gone a direction you’re not sure of.

They turn back to face you. “You have too much power over me. It scares me.”

You open your mouth to speak. The only thing that comes out is a pathetic noise from your throat.

Seven snorts at your reaction, frowning at the sky. “You really don’t know the effect you have on others.”

“I doubt I have any impact on others," you mutter, feeling oddly self-conscious.

“Fine then. You don’t know the effect you have on me.” They huff, throwing their bandana aside to run a hand through their hair in frustration. “It’s kind of annoying.”

You sputter out a laugh, reaching out to poke them again. “Are you seriously insulting me—“ 

Seven grabs your hand mid-way, their skin warm against yours. You look down, staring at the polish on their nails as they curl their hand around your palm. “I’m not trying to insult you.” 

“Then what are you trying to do?” you mumble, your eyes still on your joined skin. 

“I’m trying to do as you asked.” Seven inhales a shuddering breath. “I’m telling you how I really feel.”

You jerk a nod. “Okay. Sorry.” Your voice is quiet. “Go.”

Silence.

Seven’s lip twitches as they look up at you. “Nervous again. Too much attention.”

“Fuck off,” you throw out, though there’s no strength behind your words. 

It’s Seven’s turn to apologize. “Sorry.” They swallow. “I just think I might mess up my words with you looking at me.” 

You debate something. Debate the logic behind whatever you’re going to say next. This moment feels too big to make decisions on feelings you don’t know are fleeting or not. This is Seven. Your best friend. Anything you do will permanently change the comfortable camaraderie you two have had since you were kids. 

But…you can’t stop from thinking it might be worth it anyway. 

“Then don’t use words.” 

Seven’s lips part, mostly from surprise. And then you see it; the shift in their expression-- from uncertain to determined. Their eyes darken and slowly, they release their grip on your hand to place it on the back of your neck, pulling you toward them. 

Your heart races in your chest. Are you two really doing this? After years of casual closeness; sleepovers, handshakes, private looks across crowded rooms. Has there been an underlying attraction you just never paid attention to? Or maybe you did, and both of you were too afraid to confront it. 

Seven is slow at firs, as if they aren't quite sure they should be doing this after all. But when you don’t pull away they grow the confidence to close the remaining inches of space between you.

Kissing Seven isn't like anything you imagined. And you can't lie; you've imagined it plenty of times.

What is happening...?

Lips warm against yours, you clutch the leather of their jacket as they pull you closer. The kiss is a messy and desperate dance of teeth and tongues but you don’t mind. Not when Seven tastes like gum and alcohol and is sending goosebumps down your arms as they absently run circles on the skin of your neck. 

Messy seems about right.

Seven smells of lavender and pine and mint and so many other smells you never noticed until now, when you’re so aware of them and their existence that your brain can’t make out any words except Seven Seven Seven.

Seven kisses you like it's their own salvation; as if kissing you now is the only thing anchoring them to this moment. As if pulling away means breaking whatever dream you two have found yourselves in. So they pull you even closer, deepening the kiss and sighing happily into your mouth.

You could kiss Seven Lawless all night. Shit, you could kiss Seven Lawless forever.

They tug on your lower lip with their teeth just lightly before closing their mouth to plant a more chaste kiss before pulling away. You swallow a frustrated groan, stifling the urge to pull them back into another kiss. 

Your eyes flutter open at the loss of warmth.

"That...that was a lot better than I thought," they breathe.

"You've thought about it?" you joke, careful not to speak too loudly in fear of ruining the moment.

Their answering nod is jerky. "Yeah. An embarrassing amount of times."

You both laugh. The humor quickly dies. Then...the worst part comes: the silence.

The horrible, awkward silence.

See, no one ever talks about what comes afterward. The reality of realizing what it is you've just done. The panic that follows the post-kiss clarity.

“Uh…”

“Er…”

They slowly drop their hand from your neck. 

And then they burst up, making you fall back on your ass. 

“You—“ They whirl around. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Me?!” you guffaw, standing on your feet as well. “You mean you kissed me!”

“Me?” They stand there, and then a manic, happy laugh escapes them. You watch as they put their hands on both of their cheeks, blowing out a long breath. “So I did, didn’t I?”

It’s your turn to laugh. You feel drunk. “Yeah. You did.”

“You kissed me back.” Their voice comes out almost accusatory.

“Yeah.” Your brows furrow. “…I did.”

Seven and you stand there. A rush of wind passes. Neither of you speak.

Until both of you do.

“That—“

“We—“

Seven physically clamps their mouth shut with their hand. Your brain is a static fuzz of nothingness. 

Songwriters at a loss for words. It’s almost funny. 

“Is…” You clear your throat. “Is that how you really feel?”

Seven meets your eyes and then quickly looks away. “Yeah.” A mumble. “For a while now.”

Your eyes widen. “I—“

“Don’t say anything!” Seven raises a hand, stopping you. 

You jolt, mostly because Seven just acted like they saw a bug or something. “What!”

“You know in the movies and TV shows where a person confesses to another person and that other person feels obligated to say something back even though they likely didn’t think it through as long as the other person?” Seven says in one breath.

You blink. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“—well, I always found that to be pathetic. Almost like a pity response.” They begin nervously smoothing their hands on their pants, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Just don’t…say anything, okay?”

“Seven.”

Seven, still a bit frantic, comes over to you and puts their hands on your shoulders. “Just forget this happened. I’ll get over it. I just…I may have drank a bit and I needed to get it out of my system and I don’t want this to ruin what we have.” 

You have whiplash. Maybe it was you who drank too much. You two were just kissing—kissing—and now Seven is telling you to forget it...?

“That kiss was in the heat of the moment and I mean, I did like it but it may be weird and we’ve been best friends for so long that I know you might find it odd. And hey,“--they let out a burst of shaky laughter--"maybe we can write a song out of thi--'

You pull their face forward, stifling the rest of their words in another pathetically desperate kiss that burns you all over.

It takes Seven a few seconds to catch up, but when they do, their hands go from your shoulders to your cheeks, cupping your face.

By the time you pull away, you're both slightly breathless. You say, “Just…shut up.”

Seven simply stares at you, parted lips glistening and eyes peering at you as if you’re a painting in the Louvre. Like you're something worth their awe and wonder. 

Maybe it’s now, just like when they were laying down, that Seven is seeing you differently too.

The sound of metal squeaks in the air with the door opening. You and Seven jolt, quickly shuffling away from each other just as Rowan, Iris, Devyn, and Jazzy appear. 

“We were looking for you gu—what’s going on?” Jazzy asks, her eyes darting between you two.

“Nothing.” Seven takes a wide step away from you, swiping a hand across their lips. You swear you see the shadow of a smile on their face. “We were just...talking.”

“You were missing the party, Sev Sev.” Jazzy comes over to Seven and throws her arm around their neck in some sort of move that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Where did you go?”

“Sorry, Jazz Jazz,” Seven jokes back, exasperated. They keep one eye on you as Jazzy pulls them away back inside. They steal one glance at you before they disappear down the stairs.

You stand there, ruminating over what just happened. Your lips still sting and the phantom touch of Seven’s mouth still makes the hair on your arms rise.

“You okay?” 

Rowan’s voice has you jolting back to the present. “What?”

“You and Seven.” Rowan gestures at you. “Are you guys alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” You wave a dismissive hand as you begin walking back inside. “Totally. We’re just peachy. What are we doing?”

“We’re heading home, actually,” Iris says, shooting you a curious look. “Party got boring.”

You snort, and you and your friends walk down the stairs to meet Seven and Jazzy in the hall. Seven looks your way and quickly averts their gaze, grazing the bottom of their teeth along their lip in evident thought.

You know, eventually, you and Seven will have to talk about…whatever that was that just happened. You’re not quite sure yet what it means. Though you do know one thing: tonight has changed something. Suddenly your friendship is something far more than precious: it’s fragile. And you can’t help but wonder what that kiss means for it.

“Should we get something to eat?” Iris asks the group as you saunter out of the building. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Rowan snorts, weaving Iris’s jab. 

“I’m okay with anything you want.” As Seven says this, they look over to you, and you know they’re not just talking about food.

“Yeah,” you decide. “Me too.”

“Burgers it is,” Iris says. Devyn hums in agreement.

Seven smiles at you, and you can feel the shift in them. When they gaze at you, something else lies there. Something else that makes your heart quicken.

Yeah, you may not know what comes next in your friendship, but you do know one thing: you and Seven will never part.

And that thought comforts you.

[moni-logues]

Even Though

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Genre: friends/FWB(?)-to-lovers, smut

Summary: Hoseok comes running every time you call, even though he knows you don't want the same things. Unless, of course... you do?

Word count: 7.4k

Content: alcohol consumption/drunkenness, oral sex (m. and f. receiving inc. deepthroat and face-sitting), unprotected sex

A/N: It's almost Hobi's birthday, so have a repost because I won't be writing a new fic for it lmaooooo! This one has had a bit of an edit and I think is much improved for it tbh; I was always quite fond of this one (esp for having written it in one sitting between midnight at 2:30am lmao) but I've added a few bits and changed the ending so it feels a little more ~realistic I guess. I've also (I hope) knocked out the bajillion typos that I had left in it before whoops! anyway, enjoy!

* * *

You turned, huddled into a corner of the club, carefully cradling your phone against your cheek as if that would, in any way, block out the noise. The voice at the other end was quiet, groggy.

“Hello?” 

“Hoseok?!” you shouted into your phone. “Hoseokieeee! Can you hear me?”

“y/n? Are you ok?”

“No! I miss you! I miss you so much! I wish you were here; no one else is any fun. Can you come out, please? Come out and playyyyy.” 

You swayed on your feet and had to brace yourself against the wall with one hand, staring pointedly at a chip in the paint, studiously focusing on it, trying to get it to stop swimming in front of you, doubling and twisting before your eyes. 

“y/n, I was sleeping-”

“No! No sleeping! Come and play with me, Hoseok; I want to play.”

“How drunk are you?”

“Hardly,” you said with a snort, almost tripping over your own feet. “I’m basically fine, actually. I don’t even really feel drunk anymore.”

“Are you with people? Who are you out with?”

“I’m at work!”

“No, who are you out with?”

“Work! I’m at work with club at the people.”

“You’re at a club with people from work.”

“That’s what I said. But I don’t care about them... I just want you. I miss you. I want you. Please come out. Please, pretty please a thousand times.”

“Is someone looking after you?”

“Noooo. No one looks after me like you do. You’re the only one. You’re my favourite. Of all everyone, you’re my best one.”

You didn’t hear him sigh, didn’t see him rub his face with his free hand, staring up at the ceiling, facing off with the inevitable. He would come and get you. Of course, he would. That’s what he did. He’d come and get you and take you home and tuck you up in bed and leave water and painkillers on your bedside table and you’d tell him how much you love him and how much you miss him and you’d list everything you like about him and then you’d pass out and wake up in the morning and say you couldn’t remember what you said the night before. The texts would be right there in your phone but no one would mention them. Hoseok didn’t know if your amnesia was real or feigned but it didn’t really matter either way. 

He knew this is what would happen, and he knew that it would slice through his heart like a knife, but he agreed to come and pick you up anyway. Like always.

* * *

“Hoseok-y! Ho-socky and mittens! My yang-mal and jang-gab-yyy. You came!” 

You stumbled over to his car and made grabby motions at him through the open window. He got out and walked to the passenger side, opening the door for you and helping you in. You grabbed at his jumper and pulled his face close to yours. You sprinkled kisses all over his face as he tried to extricate himself from your clutches and return to the driver’s side. 

“-ease please please please please,” you were saying as he sat down, shut the door, and buckled his seatbelt.

“Hm? What do you want?”

“I want to kiss you, please!”

You took his hand in yours and kissed the back of it with a loud, noisy smack.

“Not while I’m driving.” 

“Plleeeeaaassse,” you insisted, leaning in as close to him as you can. “If I ask really, really nicely?”

“Not while I’m driving, ok? It’s dangerous.”

You groaned, frustrated, and threw your hands in the air. The world whipping by so quickly outside made you feel dizzy and then, suddenly, tired. The kind of drunken tiredness that was like an unexpectedly strong wave that knocks you into the sea, pulls you under. If you didn’t lie down now, immediately, you thought you would pass out. So you fumbled down the side of the seat for the lever to adjust the angle and flew back with an anguished wail when it tipped all the way backwards. 

“Are you ok?” Hoseok asked, eyes flicking briefly in your direction before returning to the road.

You were kicking your feet in the air, pressing your shoes against the roof of the car. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” he said softly, tapping your leg gently, encouraging them down.

Hoseok was just glad you weren’t trying to kiss him anymore. 

* * *

“Daisy, daisy, give me your answer, dooo,” you sang, with little consideration for your neighbours, as Hoseok half-carried you to your front door. “I’m half-crazy all for the love of you!” 

He carefully propped you up as he unlocked your door and helped you inside. As he shut the door, you took his face in your hands and continued.

“It won’t be a styyyyylish marriage! I can’t afford a carriage-”

A squeak interrupted your song as he lifted you, carrying you to your bed.

“But you’d look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle made for two! 

“Have we ever gone bicycling, Seoky? Can I ride a bike? I think so... I don’t own one, though, but we can rent them, right?”

You blathered on as he took off your socks and pulled the clips out of your hair and hung up your jacket.

“Come here, please!” you called for him as he brought you a stack of reusable cotton pads and your make-up remover. You took both from him and chucked them on the bed, then pulled him down next to you.

“I love you,” you cooed, rubbing your nose against his. “I love you I love you I love you.” 

You flopped back, head against the pillow, and dragged him with you. 

“I think you are the most best, probab- Stop it! Stop it!” You swatted at his hands as he tried to wipe your make-up off for you. “I don’t want you to do that. I want you to kiss me, please.” 

He turned his head as you reached for him and you kissed his cheek and his temple and his brow bone. 

“Hoseok-y, why don’t you want to kiss me?” You were whiny and pouting and your big, shining eyes were boring into him.

“You’re drunk, love.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“But I still want to kiss you!”

He gently, but firmly, took your hands from his face and held them by your side. 

“If you want to kiss me that badly, you can wait eight hours and kiss m-”

“Eight hours?! No, I can’t wait eight hours! I can’t wait even eight whole seconds!” 

He wished more than anything that you weren’t drunk. He wished that you would be sober, sober and still this keen, still this loving. He knew wishes didn’t come true. 

You sighed, growling at the end, frustrated and pouting and pretending to be angry. But you did, at least, stop trying to kiss him.

“I just love you, that’s all,” you said, as he lay down next to you.

You turned on your side and pressed your finger against his bottom lip, flipping it up and down. 

“My name’s Hoseok,” you said, as if he were your ventriloquist dummy. “And I’m so pretty and I’m so smart and I’m so kind and I’m the best person in the world but I won’t let my girlfriend kiss m-”

Girlfriend. There was that word again. You wouldn’t dare utter it sober, and nor would he. He distinctly remembered the time he tried to get you to agree to a ‘date’ and how badly that went, so he wouldn’t dream of even thinking that word in your presence. But this wasn’t the first time you’d drunkenly referred to yourself as his girlfriend. Which was what made this all the more difficult for him. Somewhere, in whatever walled-off section of your mind (and heart), you were his; you were his girlfriend and you loved him and you were willing to let him love you. And the key to this little cage was, apparently, copious amounts of alcohol. So, you went out and you drank too much and you called him up and he came running because he loved that you need him, loved that he was the one you called even in the middle of the night. And you called yourself his girlfriend and he pretended for five minutes that it might really happen. 

“Just go to sleep, ok?” he said softly, tucking your hair behind your ear, pulling the covers up over you. 

“Not if you’re going to leave me.”

“No, I’ll stay. I’ll stay here.”

“Good.” 

You waited for him to lie down and then flung your limbs over him, holding him close to you, fisting his T-shirt. He kissed the top of your head and waited for you to pass out. 

* * *

You woke, in the morning (later that same morning), thick-headed and dry-mouthed. You chugged the glass of water Hoseok left on your bedside table, finishing it before you could reach for the painkillers, which you opted to dry-swallow and then immediately regretted doing. You unlocked your phone and grimaced as you noticed the time: it was 7am, which meant you’d been asleep for all of three hours. You felt ghastly but, somehow, also wide awake. You scrolled through your phone, looking through your fingers at the messages you sent last night. There were so many. 

You: Hoseeereeokkkkjjyyyy.

You: are ayou sleep?

You: I msiss you so mchu. I wish you wer hreeeeee. 

You: if u coome, I wlll love youf roever. 

You felt movement from the other side of the bed and rolled over, away from the embarrassment of your phone, to see Hoseok standing up. You watched him as he put his phone in his pocket, ran a hand through his hair once, twice, then turned around.

“Oh, you’re awake.” 

“Catching you in the disappearing act this time.” 

You sounded annoyed, but you weren’t really sure why. Just hungover. Probably.

He smiled and you wondered why he looked so shy. He was usually gone before you woke up, at least these days. Maybe he actually was embarrassed to be caught running out on you. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

You shrugged. 

“Like I drank an entire bar and then had three hours’ sleep.” 

“You should sleep it off; it’s still early.” 

You didn’t know what compelled you to ask, didn’t know why now was the time, but you didn’t have the capacity to filter your thoughts from your mouth.

“What’s the point of you staying if you always run off so early?” 

He blinked, taken aback. He replied slowly, hesitantly, almost reluctantly.

“You don’t like it when I overstay my welcome.” 

It was such a specific turn of phrase, you could hear a bell ringing distantly in your brain, as if you’d had this conversation before – though, if you had, you didn’t remember having it. 

“You don’t have to get up at the crack of dawn, though, just to get away from me. You can sleep in; you were also up at 4am so I’m hardly going to kick you out at 7.”

You thought he looked as if he was biting something back; his face was heavy with all the things he wasn't saying and you felt frustration settling on you, slowly taking the reins. 

“I don’t know why you bother, to be honest,” you told him, your lack of sleep and excess of booze making you sound meaner than you really intended. “Why get up, pick me up, take care of me and then just disappear? What’s in it for you if you don’t even stay for breakfast?”

“Well, it’s the only time you’re ever really nice to me, so...”

It hit you like a slap in the face.

“What?”

“What?” he threw back. 

“What do you mean it’s the only time I’m ever nice to you?”

“You and I both know what I mean. Take a look at your phone if you’re confused.” 

He turned and, after a second’s pause, started to walk out of the room.

“Hey!” you called after him. “You can’t just say that and leave! Come back here!”

He looked at you from the door and you almost didn’t recognise him; you realised you’d never seen him angry.

“What do you want me to say? We both know what this is. This...”

He floundered, looking for a word, betraying the fact that, actually, neither of you knew what this was, what had become of you.

“I want more than you will ever want; that’s a fact. I want what you can’t or won’t give me. I made my peace with that. But then you call me in the middle of the night and you tell me that you want me and need me and that you miss me and you love me and I come running every time because I know you will never say that to me sober, will never look at me in the cold light of day in the same way you look at me in the small hours of the morning. Maybe I shouldn’t. In fact, I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. That’s what I mean.”

Without another word – not that you could’ve managed one anyway – he turned on his heel and you heard the front door slam shut. 

He wasn’t wrong. You knew. You didn’t want to know but you knew. It had always been complicated between the two of you. 

* * *

A mutual friend introduced you because he thought you would like each other and he wasn’t wrong. But you hadn’t expected him to be so right; you were entirely unprepared for Hoseok. Entirely unprepared for the most perfect man to just waltz into your life and lay himself at your feet. You weren’t ready for that. You thought you would meet a guy who was basically fine (hopefully a little better than fine); a guy who would be fun for a few dates, good for a casual sort of arrangement, nothing serious. You thought you could see this guy and continue to sow your wild oats elsewhere. But Hoseok was different. 

You hit it off immediately. Yoongi introduced you at a party and you instantly connected, forgetting anyone else was there, talking all night. Drinking, too. When he offered to walk you home, you knew you would offer him a nightcap in your apartment. He knew he would accept if you did. Your memories of that night were slightly hazy but you knew the sex had been good because you had sent almost everyone you knew a message that was simply five mind-blown emojis. 

Hoseok had a party the following week and you were invited. He had been a perfect host and you had spent hours, desperately frustrated, trying to convince him to forget about all his guests and come rail you in his bedroom. By the time everyone else had left and he could finally give you his undivided attention, you had sobered up and your memories of that night are crystal clear. You had sent your best friend a text that read ‘I will never sleep with another man ever again’.

That was not a vow you kept. 

Hoseok was kind and caring and considerate in a way no one had ever really been with you before. It almost began to annoy you, the way he took care of you, looked out for you, thought of you when he passed something in a shop window. You had begun to feel claustrophobic in his affections; this wasn’t supposed to be a relationship. He wasn’t supposed to like you or, heaven forbid, fall in love with you. 

Your ‘dates’ had been casual up to that point because you had forced them to be. You would swing by his apartment after dinner with your friends or invite him over to yours when you had no plans for the weekend. When he had asked you, finally, to go on a real date with him, out to dinner somewhere, your response had been ‘why would we do that?’. That was when things had started crumbling. 

He had insisted you could keep it casual and still go out to eat together. He had insisted that it didn’t matter what it was called and, if you didn’t want to call it a date, he wouldn’t call it a date; he just wanted to spend more time with you. You had called your mutual friend and given him an earful for introducing you; you had got several earfuls back. Hoseok dropped the subject. 

Then he had started talking about a weekend away, going into the country, getting a cabin or something, going swimming in the lake and walking up the hills and stuff that all sounded far too romantic to you. You had asked him why the hell he kept insisting on treating you like you were his girlfriend. You had told him repeatedly and emphatically throughout that conversation that you were not his girlfriend. You kept telling him that you were friends and he kept telling you that he doesn’t fuck his friends like that. You told him maybe he should so he might lighten up a bit. 

You stopped sleeping together after that. Mostly. Kind of. You hung out more often and you thought that maybe you had been right, maybe you were just friends and you told yourself that this was probably the ideal outcome. But a few weeks later, at another party, you had both got drunk and immediately sought each other out across the crowded room and left without so much as saying goodbye. You tumbled into bed and you cursed yourself for ever giving this up, for ever thinking you could go without him. Until the morning came anyway. 

This happened a few more times and, each time, you grew colder and more distant in the morning. Hoseok wasn’t stupid and it wasn't as if he thought you would magically change your mind about dating him if only you had sex just one more time, one more time, but he wasn’t expecting you to behave the way you did. He had asked if you could at the very least not be rude to him, and you had shot back that overstaying one’s welcome was also considered rude and maybe he should think about that. He decided he wouldn’t sleep with you again.

It happened a few more times after that, too. Then he decided to give up drinking around you. It would’ve been easier to just cut you out, take you out of his life completely, but he was too far gone to do that. He would walk over hot coals for you; he knew it and so did you. 

* * *

You woke again much later that morning and thought about what Hoseok had said. You dialled Yoongi’s number.

“On a scale of 1-10,” you began as soon as he picked up the phone, not even bothering with a greeting, “how much of a dick am I to Hoseok?”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Please just answer the question.”

“Ok, well, what’s included on the scale? Does the worst include like, violence and murder?”

“No! Obviously not. Just like, for normal friends, scale of 1-10, how badly do I treat him?”

“Is 10 the worst?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, then 10.”

“What?!” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Everyone knows. You know.”

“I’m not that bad, surely.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Well then why haven’t you done anything? Why would you let your friend treat your other friend like that?”

“Well, firstly, because I don’t actually control you. Secondly, you may recall that we have spoken about this on a number of occasions and I have always made it very clear that you are being a dick and you are hurting his feelings and always told you that you need to stop dicking him about. But like I said, I don’t control you. And I don’t control him, either. I have also had numerous conversations with him about you and I have told him he deserves better-”

“Hey!”

“Are you seriously trying to argue with that?” 

“Well-”

“Exactly. I don’t know what answer you wanted from me but, of course, the answer is 10. On a scale of 1-10, you absolutely treat him the worst.”

“Surely he takes some responsibility for it at this point.”

Yoongi interrupted you before you could say more.

“Don’t you dare go there. You are my friend and I am saying this because I do actually value you as a person and, this aside, I do think you’re a decent person: you are treating him like a cunt and he deserves better and, if you were anyone else in the world, I would’ve cut him off from you months ago and literally kept him under lock and key to keep him away from you if that’s what it would’ve taken. 

“That said, I’m glad you’re asking the question. I hope this means you’re actually giving it some thought? You’re actually considering his feelings now? Considering your own, maybe?”

“What do you mean my own?”

“Your own feelings for him.”

“I don’t have feelings.” 

Yoongi hummed non-committally and you could almost hear his eyes rolling through the phone.

“Well, anyway, let me repeat one more time for the record that you are a total dick to Hoseok and you should treat him better.”

“Thanks very much.”

“You’re welcome!” he rang off brightly, ignoring the sarcasm of your comment. 

* * *

You were grumpy and hungover and tired and feeling unsettled, disturbed. It had been some time since you and Hoseok had discussed anything to do with... whatever it was that you were or had been or wanted to be, and it always made you uncomfortable. You did know, really, deep down, somewhere you tried not to look, that you were treating him badly, and on days when the hangover anxiety was at its worst, you felt sick with guilt about it. But you also felt sick at the thought of more. He wanted so much of you. More than you felt you had to give. He saw things in you that you were sure just weren’t there. And you didn’t want him to see the things you kept hidden, the dark things, the bad things, the things that would make him turn and run for the hills if he knew. He was too good for you and it scared you and it hurt you and you chose, simply, not to address it. To run away from it as far as you possibly could, which, when you’d had a drink or six, was not very far at all.

You showered to try to wash the discomfort away; you stuffed yourself full to try to distract yourself from the anxiety in your guts; you, briefly, considered drinking again but the thought brought bile to your throat. You stared, unseeing, at the TV, ostensibly watching a drama, but really replaying your own, real-life drama over and over in your head.

You wanted to be reasonable about it but the guilt and embarrassment and anxiety curdling in your gut made you feel sick and you couldn’t face it, so you chose not to be reasonable. You kept butting your head up against the fact that, if he really hated it that much, he could just not answer your calls. Sure, you could stop calling him, but you only did it when you’re drunk and who had that level of self-control after that many drinks? He didn’t have to come and get you; he didn’t have to walk you into your apartment; he didn’t have to put you to bed. He did all of that on his own. And maybe if he actually slept with you, it might've made a difference...

You tossed that thought aside because you knew both that it wasn't true and that you would not want to be anywhere near someone who would soberly fuck anyone even close to as drunk as you usually got. Hoseok was not that guy. 

The more you thought about it, the more annoyed you got. You knew that you couldn’t really think straight; you were not at your best right now, but you were annoyed. You were annoyed that you had to be tired and hungover and thinking about this. Why couldn’t he just keep it simple for you both and leave you alone? Or, at least, ignore you when you didn’t leave him alone? You felt like he was making his feelings your problem. And you were done with it.

* * *

You stood outside his door, hesitating. The taxi ride over had taken just long enough that your immediate anger was subsiding and a tiny part of your rational brain was waking up again. Then you thought about the texts you sent him last night and were so embarrassed at yourself that you needed to feel something else: guilt, shame, anxiety, anything would do. You hammered at the door. 

Hoseok opened it and looked surprised to see you, but nevertheless stepped back to let you in. 

“What’s up?” he asked. 

“We’re finishing this,” you told him and he looked at you blankly. “We’re finishing this now.”

“What do you mean? Finishing what?”

“This!” 

You gestured frantically between the two of you.

“I’m fucking sick of this!” you cried. “You want me so fucking badly? Then why don’t you do something about it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying do something! I’m not drunk anymore! Why don’t you do something?” 

“Listen to what you’re suggesting. We’ve done that. And it’s ended up with us here. How do you think doing it again is going to lead somewhere different?”

You opened your mouth to argue but he wasn't finished.

“Besides which, I don’t want to just ‘do something’. That’s the whole problem. We’re in this because I want more than just something, I want more than just sex and you don’t. And when I made it clear to you that I wanted more, you ran for the fucking hills. Before you came running back, that is.”

You were surprised because he’d never argued with you like this before. You realised, with a lurch, that he’d never been angry with you before. You couldn’t put a name to what it made you feel; you were too busy swimming with frustration and anxiety and anger to be able to think clearly. You just knew that this was different so, maybe, this was good. 

“And why do you let me back, then? If I’m so awful and I treat you like such shit, why do you pick up?”

“I already told you. And you don’t need to tell me I’ve lost my fucking dignity and pride; you don’t need to tell me that I should be better than that, that I shouldn’t be begging at your table for scraps. I already know. Trust me, no one is as sickened by me as I am.”

“Sickened? Wanting me sickens you, does it? I sicken you, do I?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fuck you, Hoseok.” 

You stalked closer to him, stuck a finger hard against his chest.

“Fuck you for putting that on me,” you spat. 

The world held its breath for one second and, the next, you were tangled up in each other, his mouth finally on yours again, his hands against your skin, yours in his hair. He lifted your T-shirt over your head and you sighed as his fingers grazed your nipple, quickly teasing it to a tight bud. You pushed down his trousers and he stepped out of them, pushing you backwards until your legs hit the sofa. He ripped off his own top before guiding you down until you were lying on the sofa with Hoseok at your feet, tugging on your jogging bottoms. You tilted your hips to allow him to pull them off and he brought his hands up to relieve you of your underwear. 

His eyes were black, darker than you’d ever seen them and he looked at you like you were in trouble, like he was imagining all the things he could do to you. You gulped and arousal pooled in your core; you were suddenly desperate for him, clawing at him until his mouth was on yours so you could taste him one more time. You palmed him through his boxers and he groaned into your mouth, swearing softly as he pulled away.

You were tingling all over with anticipation as he trailed kisses down your neck and onto your chest. He licked a broad strip across the mound of your breast and bit down hard on your soft flesh. You whimpered and arched your back into him, urging for more. He clamped his teeth around your nipple and sucked, rubbing his tongue over the stiff nub and you shivered.

“Oh god,” you whispered. You had forgotten it was this good. 

“Touch me, please,” you asked quietly. You didn’t want to break whatever spell was over you, but you were aching with a desire so strong, it almost hurt. And you knew how much he liked to hear you beg. “Please, Hoseok, please touch me.”

“Why should I give you what you want?” he asked, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes, his mouth slack, breathing heavy, voice rough. “When do I get what I want, huh?”

“Anything. I’ll do anything, please.”

If you had both been thinking with your brains, you would both have known this was not true. Your brains were, however, otherwise indisposed.

Hoseok sat back on his knees, looking at you, a small smirk at the corner of his mouth. He stood, briefly, to discard his boxers and then he looked down at you, slowly pumping the thick length of his hot, stiff cock.

You were on your knees in an instant, replacing his hand with your own. You brought your open mouth to his tip, softly licking across his slit, keeping your eyes on his as you wrapped your lips around him and sank slowly, slowly down his shaft. He grunted when he hit the back of your throat and outright moaned when you kept going.

“God, I’ve missed this mouth,” he said, his voice tight and gruff. He gripped your hair with one hand and slowly pulled you back. Then he kept your head still as he thrust back in, still slowly at first, gentle almost, and then, when you moaned around him, faster, and then harder when your fingernails dug into his thighs. His eyes never left yours, even though yours were swimming with tears and he was no more than a blur above you. He was always looking at you. Until his eyes fluttered closed and you knew he was close to coming, could see it when his eyes opened again, piercing in their intensity; you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you tapped his leg, signalling him to stop. 

He fell from you in an instant and you pushed him onto the sofa.

“Don’t think you’re the only one who gets to have their fun,” you told him.

You pushed him back until he was lying and you pinned him down with your knees either side of his head. He was impatient, wrapping his arms around your legs and pulling you down to him, your core wet and dripping over his mouth. He looked at you, making sure your eyes met as licked through your folds.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “I forgot just how wet you get. I’m going to fucking drown in you." 

He licked into your centre, drinking you in, taking you for everything you’d got while you rolled your hips against him, rubbing your clit against his nose, desperate for contact, for friction. You heard him chuckle low in his throat and you whimpered.

He was impatient to get started but he liked to take his time with you. He wanted you to beg: beg him to start, beg him to keep going, beg him to finish you off. He licked languidly through your folds, he sucked, he nipped, he returned again to fuck you with his tongue, all while you shivered and whined above him, pleasure building in you, urgency mounting. You grabbed his hair with both hands and tried to hold him still so you could direct yourself above him, but he was stronger than you and his arms kept you in place. 

“Hoseok, please. Please, I need to come.”

He hummed against you and you tugged on his hair. 

“Please, please.”

You tried harder to grind against his face, your clit throbbing and burning under the absence of his touch. He held you still. His face was buried in your cunt and you could just see his eyes, glinting at you, watching you fall apart under your desperate need for him. 

“Hoseok,” you panted. “Hoseok, please.” Your voice broke as your desperation peaked, every part of you alert and armed, like tinder just millimetres from a flame. 

He finally sealed his lips around your clit and you went up like a bonfire, ecstasy roaring through you, consuming everything. You were hot and sweating and writhing on top of him as he licked and lapped and sucked at you, pulling sounds out of you that only he could: loud, desperate, animal cries and his name over and over and over again. 

It was only when you let loose his hair and your legs quivered either side of his head that he loosened his own grip on you and you flopped backwards, lying on top of him with your head on his hip. 

“See how good I am to you?” he asked, wiping his mouth, sliding out from underneath you, towering over you once more. 

“Yeah,” you whimpered. You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, so good.”

“But you don’t fucking want me.”

“Yeah, I do. I do, Hoseok, god, I do. Please.” 

He rested his hands against the arm of the sofa above your head and lowered his face to yours.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said low, menacing.

He kissed you lightly and you lifted your head to meet him again but he moved too far off. He knelt over you, his heavy cock resting on your mound, and considered you for a while. This wasn’t usually part of your game and you were impatient, still needy for him, remembering the way he split you open, the glorious stretch of him inside you, the fluidity and power with which he moved. 

“Fuck. What do you want from me?” you asked.

He tipped forward, back over you, hands either side of your head, his face so close, you could barely see him. He moved and kissed you lightly just below the ear.

“Everything.”

He stood and put on his boxers and you were overwhelmed with anger again. 

“For fuck’s sake, seriously?!” you shouted, hitting him with a scatter cushion. “Are you fucking kidding?”

He turned to you, pulling his trousers back up and shrugged.

“No, I’m not kidding. I told you. I want everything. I want you, all of you, even this shitty part of you that treats me like crap, even the part of you that tells me you love me and then pretends to forget all about it in the morning, even the part of you that pretends to be sickened by the very idea of being my girlfriend, despite the fact that you refer to yourself as mine in the dead of night. Even your excessive drinking, even your emotional constipation, even your big, fat heart that you try to hide from everyone, even your insistence that you don’t give a shit despite giving a hell of a lot of a shit all the damn time, even your stupid fucking determination to do everything by yourself even when you actually need help, even your terrible taste in films and those god-awful reality TV programs you like, even your snoring, even your back turned back against me. All of it. All of you. I fucking want all of you, all the fucking time.” 

You stared breathlessly at him as his chest heaved, his breathing ragged. Your heart was in your throat, blood roaring in your ears. He was waiting for you to say something but you’d lost the ability to speak. Words flew into and out of your head without your being able to catch any of them. You couldn’t think. Your mind was buzzing, static blaring, nothing but white noise. You could only stare at him, bewildered, overwhelmed, utterly naked. 

His breathing slowly settled and he rolled his eyes and turned away from you. 

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath. 

He was walking away from you and you knew you had to stop him. Your brain had no capacity to filter anything on its way to your mouth and you said it before you even really knew you were feeling it.

“I love you. I fucking love you.” 

He turned quickly and watched you, wary, unsure. You didn’t let yourself think anymore. You staggered to your feet and took his hands and pulled him close to you. 

“I fucking love you,” you said again. “I love you, ok? And I'm not drunk this time and fucking fine, if I’m such a piece of shit but you still want me, then fine. Fine. Have me.” 

He was still looking at you, looking into your eyes like he was trying to solve a riddle.

“I’m not fucking with you. I’m not lying. I want you. I want you and have always wanted you and always wanted not to want you as much I do because you’re terrifying. Ever looked directly at the sun? Ever looked at the fucking face of god? ‘Cause I have and it’s you. Ok? It’s you. When I get drunk and I call you and I tell you that I love you, it’s true – that's true. It’s only you I call.” Your skin was hot, flushed, but from embarrassment now, from feeling skinned, raw, exposing yourself in a way that you never did, never wanted to. Your voice broke and you desperately didn’t want to cry, didn’t want this to be more embarrassing than it needed to be, didn’t want him to see how pathetic you really were even as you were telling him. “It’s only you I want. And it’s only when I’m not sober enough to fight myself that I can admit it. I’m a piece of shit and you’re a literal angel, a fucking god, but fine, if you really want to have me, have me. I’m yours.” 

He gently nudged your nose with his and whispered your name, his eyes carefully watching you. Then he kissed you, soft and slow, and wrapped his arms around you. His hands wandered, exploring your body, caressing any part of you he could reach, as his tongue rolled with yours, as you raked your fingers through his hair, as he moaned into your mouth, as he picked you up and took you into the bedroom. 

He lay you gently on the bed and slipped off his clothes once more. He covered your body with his and pressed kisses into your neck. Then he bit down and you keened, arching your back into him, suddenly violently, urgently aware of the slick between your legs, of your fluttering walls, desperate for him now. 

“Please, Hoseok,” you whispered. “Please fuck me, now.”

This was where you were comfortable. No more talking. Just Hoseok with his body over yours, his soft skin and softer lips, his nimble fingers and strong body, his eyes black as pitch as he looked at you like you were prey.

“Gladly,” he whispered back, his lips just grazing yours. 

He pressed himself against your entrance, eyes flicking between your face and your cunt as he watched himself disappear into you and watched your face, lest you betray any sign of pain or discomfort. But there was none. There was only the perfect, overwhelming fullness of him inside you and then the tight drag, feeling every contour of his cock, as he pulled back and thrust in again. 

“God, no one compares to you- fuck...”

He liked to watch your face as you whined and whimpered beneath him when he lifted your legs, pushing against the backs of your thighs, hitting you deeper, harder. You were hot and sticky everywhere; your skin was slick with sweat, your cunt slick with arousal. Every part of you was fit to bursting, coming apart at the seams. You felt like a dam about to break and then he took his hand down between your bodies and pressed hard, the motion of his thrusts knocking his hand until you were crying out for more, much more, crying out that you were close, crying out please, please let me come, let me come. And he did. The flood engulfed you; you were pulled through a riptide of pleasure, unable to scream, unable to breathe, suffocating in the swirling pool of your orgasm. Hoseok kept going, fucking you through your climax until he was coming, too, painting your walls white, falling under the surface of ecstasy with you. 

He fell down next to you and you lay, quiet save for your heavy breathing. When he took your hand in his, you let him, despite the thrum of anxiety in your heart.

“So,” he said, and he looked nervous when you turned towards him.

You were nervous but you’d said it now. And you’d missed him—you had. And Yoongi’s words were ringing in your ears, about your feelings, about how badly you treated Hoseok, and words from much, much longer ago, about how much you’d like him, what a great guy he was, how much Hoseok had liked meeting you, how much he liked you.

He was waiting for you to speak, not daring to go first. You looked down at your joined hands, looked up at the ceiling, looked at his face.

“I’m,” you began, your voice quiet and croaky. You cleared your throat but still didn’t know what words were going to come out. “I’m… I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolled onto his side, facing you, and you took your hand from his so you could use both to cover your face. You gave a frustrated sigh and slapped them onto the mattress on either side of you.

“I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. Not to you.”

“’Not to me’? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing! That’s my whole point!”

You squirmed, embarrassment heating your cheeks again, and ended up on your side, facing him.

“There’s nothing wrong with you and it’s… intimidating. I’m not like that. You said it yourself. There’s a lot wrong with me and-”

“That’s not what I said. I actually think you’re perfect.”

You blinked, stunned into silence.

“But you said all those things.”

“I still think you’re perfect. Even though I said all those things, even though you do snore and even though you have handled this situation in about the worst possible way and even though it’s hurt my feelings. Even though all of it. I still think you’re perfect and I still love you.”

You turned onto your back, staring at the ceiling, blinking away fresh tears.

“I think you’re crazy,” you told him.

“There you go; there is something wrong with me after all.”

He leant over you and cupped your cheek with his hand. When he kissed you, it was soft and sweet and it wasn’t going to go anywhere—nor did you need it to.

“I don’t want to get it wrong,” you whispered to him, his face still close to yours, his breath fanning over your face.

He shrugged lightly.

“It’s ok if you do. We can’t be right all the time.”

“You’ll still love me?”

“Yes. After all this, I still love you. I’ve tried not to, I promise. So, yes, I will still love you if you get it wrong. As long as you love me.”

“I do.” You wanted to say it back, felt it stick in your throat. You swallowed hard, blinked slowly, took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

He kissed you again, still soft, still gentle, and then settled back on his side.

“So…”

“So?”

“So can I actually call you my girlfriend now?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and couldn’t stop the little thrill in your heart or grin on your lips.

“I guess, if you must.”

He grinned back at you, wide, beaming.

“Yes, I fucking must!”

You thought that sounded just fine.

[megwritesnstuff]

Something Cozy

Hello! I have no idea if I’ll be able to finish it, but this year I’m going to try my best to participate in @tescheer​ ‘s 25 Days of TES Cheer holiday event. Although these will not be specifically Christmas themed, more like winter time and the general feelings of slowing down and being with friends/family at the end of the year.

Without further adieu, here is Day 1, of which the prompt is “cozy.”

It had been... a rough year, to say the least. Between her father having to go back to help out the Legion, and her being sent far, far away to Skyrim to live with her uncle Aryuen, to finding out she was Dragonborn and doing her best to keep sane while dealing with a destiny she could still barely wrap her mind around, Leona had had enough.

All the young Imperial wanted to do was rest, now. It was Evening Star, the last month of the year. Soon people would begin their preparations for Saturalia, and the New Life Festival. Both events that she would have looked forward to, even just a year ago, but now things were... different. Sitting at the museums upper floor apartment that her uncle had graciously allowed her and her friends to live in, mysterious note in hand telling her to rent the attic room of the Sleeping Giant Inn, the young redhead sighed loudly.

“What has you so troubled, my friend?” Leona glanced up to see Inigo walking downstairs, the first one awake out of the small band of adventurers who’d joined her over the past year. His unusual blue fur glinted in the dim light of the single candle she had lit when she tiptoed downstairs herself. The younger woman knew that out of all of her friends, not a single one didn’t deal with the nightmares of their past (or in her own case, future.) She’d done her best to be quiet so everyone could get some good rest now that they were finally back home.

“Forgive me, Inigo. I didn’t mean to wake you. Please, go back to sleep.”

“You did not wake me, young friend. The strange dreams and biting of fleas did that. You should also not dodge my questions.”

The redhead bit her lip and then sighed again, softer this time, as the blue khajiit came to sit by her in the soft warm light. She knew he meant well, of course, but it was still something she had trouble talking about with anyone besides Khash or Lucien, the two friends who had become much more like siblings to her than anyone else.

“It’s just... this. Dragonborn stuff.” Leona waved the unsigned note for emphasis, before tossing it down onto the coffee table and slumping back into the chair, defeated.

The older man grabbed up the note with a yawn to scan over, his eyes widening just a bit before going back to normal. He gently placed it down and looked over at the redheaded Imperial. He’d try his best not to make things worse for the teen by being shocked.

“I see... This was waiting for you when we arrived home yesterday, yes?”

“Yeah. I asked Farengar if he could have his associate from before contact me to teach me more about dragons, but this note isn’t signed or anything, so I have no idea if it’s really her. It could be those crazy cultists from before, or any other number of enemies. I just--” The girl sighed heavily, reaching up to rub her eyes. It was apparent she hadn’t slept a wink, by the dark circles and gritty sound of her usually smooth voice, “--I just want to NOT have to worry about this stuff for once. I miss my dad. I miss how we used to decorate the house for the whole month, even though New Life Festival is right at the end. I miss the time before I knew I was supposed to be this great hero.”

Leona wouldn’t cry, it was something she promised herself after that fateful day in Helgen, when she’d discovered her fathers bloodied body. She’d hardened her heart after that so she could get through things, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t hard. Now, in the hour before dawn, sitting in the candle light with the crazy khajiit she’d discovered in Riften’s jail who swore he knew her (he didn’t) it was harder than ever.

“Leona... I am sorry. You are still so young to be dealing with all of this. Not to mention how you’ve agreed to help Khash, Lucien, Kaidan, myself and the others, too.”

Inigo looked at the younger woman fondly. Even though they hadn’t had a formal discussion about it yet, he’d already realized that this young woman and the one he’d betrayed weren’t the same person. He hadn’t left yet, though, wanting to stay with this group and help them all in any way he can. They accepted him, even as he was still crazed, coming off of the skooma. He wanted to do anything he could to repay them, especially Leona.

“Come. Let me escort you to bed, surely you will feel better if you sleep. Allow your mind to rest and not worry for a bit, hm?”

He stood, and took her hand, leading her up the stairs to her bedroom and insisting she get some rest. Even if the redhead had wanted to put up a fight, there wasn’t much fight left in her. They’d been out on the roads for weeks, fighting dragons and helping the people of Skyrim. She was dead tired.

After softly shutting the young woman’s bedroom door, Inigo grinned as an idea came to him. With him and everyone else working together, they could surely come up with something to give their Dragonborn friend a bit of respite.

“Inigo, are you sure this is a good idea? I hate to be a Debbie downer, but this isn’t exactly what I would call a “New Life Tree.” Back in the Imperial city, they’re MUCH bigger--”

“Lucien. Shut up. It’s not going to be the same as some rich boys home would look, but it’s still nice. Don’t you want to cheer Leona up?”

Inigo sighed, shaking his head at Lucien and Kaidan arguing, as usual. He’d told them his plans earlier this morning, and everyone had agreed that decorating the safehouse while Leona slept sounded wonderful. However, with all of them being different races, and coming from different parts of Tamriel, they hadn’t been able to agree on how exactly to decorate, what foods to make, or what would make the youngling happiest. Finally, they’d decided to do a little bit of everything, that way, they could enjoy it too.

Sure, the dragons were a huge threat, but there wasn’t a ton they could do at the moment, anyway. Why not relax and make themselves a bit cozy in the interim?

Finally, another voice spoke some reason, though. Thank the Gods for Khash, honestly.

“Do not mind them, Inigo. They will probably argue no matter what. We are all used to it at this point, probably. I think the tree you picked looks nice. It is not very big, but it does not need to be.” The young Argonian chuckled softly, helping him line it up with the tree base they had bought in the Solitude marketplace just a bit ago, making sure the tree stood steady on its own before both of them backed away to admire it.

“This will be the first time I am able to really celebrate the New Life Festival, so I am pleased with it. I am sure Leona will like it as well.”

“I am happy you think so, my young friend. I hope she will stay asleep until we are done, although...”

Inigo turned to glare at the other two boys still arguing. Inigo didn’t get angry easily, and so even one sharp look from the blue catlike man was enough to silence them for now.

“She will not if you two do not stop making so much noise. Help Khash and I finish setting things up in here. Quietly.”

It was already midday by the time Leona was able to open her eyes again. Honestly, she could barely remember this morning. She knew she had talked to Inigo a bit about some of the stress she’d been having lately, and he insisted she would probably feel better if she actually got some real sleep for once. She’d been too tired to argue about it, so she took his advice. She hadn’t meant to sleep half the day away, though. Quickly, she got up and went around her room, following her usual routine. Wash off, get dressed in the warm clothes her uncle had bought for her, tie hair back. She nearly put her armor on out of habit, but her and the rest of her crew had agreed to take a few days in town before heading back out, so she left it off.

The cold of Skyrim was something she’d still not gotten used to, but she sweaters Uncle Aryuen had bought for her were thick and warm, very cozy. She yawned before pushing open the door to her bedroom and heading downstairs. Every motion was muscle memory at this point, and she was halfway downstairs before she truly opened her eyes and saw all the changes.

The apartment, which had previously been plain, bland, and dusty, was now decked out in what she could only call a smorgasbord of decorations from nearly every culture on the face of Nirn. From snowberry wreaths of the Nords, to garland made of pieces of clay shaped into the phases of the moon and strung along fine silver embroidery thread, something common in Elsweyr. There wasn’t a surface in the whole of the apartments first level that wasn’t decorated to be festive in some way or another.

In the far corner, where she’d originally pushed a chair and table near the window to act as a sort of reading nook, stood a short but stout pine tree, decorated beautifully with wooden ornaments and torchbugs placed into small glass jars. It was a sight to behold, to be sure, more beautiful than even the humble tree Leona and her father had put up back in the empires heartland.

Everyone was either sitting to rest, or standing to adjust a decoration here or there. They were all dressed in their casual clothes, even Nebarra (save for his iconic helmet, of course.) The first person to notice the young woman finally up and moving about was Remiel, who smiled wide and shouted “Surprise!”

All of the others soon turned to smile at the Imperial as well, following suit in their greetings and declarations of surprise. For Leona’s own part, she stood stock still on the middle of the stairs, unable to process her own thoughts. For as much as she had wanted something like this, she didn’t think Inigo would go and get everyone else into it, as well. They’d been saving all of their septims to buy a larger base where everyone could stay much more comfortably, but even still, even if it set them back a bit... Leona was overjoyed. It made her chest feel warm in a way it hadn’t in much longer than a year, and it made warm tears drip from her pale face.

Inigo noticed the tears and immediately frowned. He’d gotten carried away, just like he did in the old days. He hadn’t thought it would make her this upset, though.

“Oh, Leona you... you do not like it...?”

Around the khajiit, the others faces began to fall as well. Xelzaz, who’d been arranging food on the table in the dining room, walked out and looked up at their unofficial leader.

But, thankfully, the redhead shook her head. Fiercely. She was still wordless, but she reached up quickly to swipe away the tears that betrayed her heart. Finally after another moment, she spoke.

“N-no.. No, everyone... I love it. Thank you all so much. I-I promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore, that I’d become the kind of person that didn’t worry you all, but... I guess these tears don’t count. I’m so happy right now...”

The collective sigh of relief didn’t escape her, and she ran the rest of the way down the stairs to start giving out the hugs they all deserved.

She couldn’t really name the emotion that had wormed its way into her chest and wouldn’t go. Love, joy, happiness. All of them at once. All she knew was that, even though it was freezing outside, and the poor insulation of their apartments walls was letting a bit of that in, she still felt so, so cozy here, with all of her new friends.

[shotorozu]

hellolololo!¡! so i recently saw this video where their

s/o goes on to omegle and the other person from omegle like goes “hi ur cute” or “u have snap?” and then their boyfriend just enters the frame,, can u do that to todobakudeku separately :3

if u dont understand u can check this out 😭 https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJdEqc7V/ tyy ❤️❤️

“ur kinda cute” on omegle

(tiktok prank)

character(s) : todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku (bnha)

part two — part three

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, crack — ‘x reader’

note(s) : i love these types of requests 🤩 so i plan on making 3 parts with this (oh and don’t worry, i’ll finish the other tiktok prank series i have going on at the moment)

also, there’s no proofread on this so if there’s any typos or mistakes, sorry! i’ll be editing them in the morning

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

todoroki shouto

okay so, the entire tiktok idea was planned— but the part where shouto came in surely wasn’t staged

so, being a curious young person— you wanted to make a tiktok, where you went on omegle just to speak to people for fun

and inside of your head, you’re kinda thinking that “this is dumb, omg im going to get flashed on there.” also while you were setting up your laptop

but you just used the appropriate tags and !! you were set off for an adventure

you set your phone aside, and you filmed most of the experience— cutting out the not so interesting encounters out of your tiktok

and then came on a dude, who had a,, unique reaction. he didn’t seem all that fishy— until he asked you for your snap (your social medias, essentially)

“you’re kinda cute, y’know. how did i not see you before?”

you shake your head, “oh no no! i appreciate your compliment, but i’m very much taken!” your mind immediately flashing back to the image of your icyhot boyfriend

“nahh you’re lying! i don’t see any dude back there”

oh,, and that was because shouto was out getting snacks 🧎 “no really dude, i appreciate it! i’m very much taken and being disloyal is out of the question!”

this dude just kept insisting and insisting, and due to the struggle— you weren’t able to hear the door knob jiggle

it seemed to be that his advances came to an end, and your lover made an entrance— a mop of red and white peaked out from the door frame

and the dude literally got scared and ended the conversation 💀 because you really weren’t lying!

you also figured that it was time to end your omegle shenanigans, and finish the tiktok— because your boyfriend was already there “hi love, who were you talking to?”

you closed your laptop, and offered him a smile “i was on omegle for a tiktok! i’m glad you’re back.” you discard your phone, wrapping your arms around his torso (and also making sure you don’t delete the draft)

shouto doesn’t say a lot, but he immediately accepts your touch, setting the groceries aside.

he doesn’t question the fact that you were on omegle because well,, he had to get used to your shenanigans on tiktok SOMEHOW

a few hours later, you posted the tiktok— and almost immediately, the tiktok gains a lot of attention

“i love how your boyfriend drove the last dude away 💀💀” “man the last dude didn’t take the hint 🗿” “your boyfriend indirectly protected you! we need more guys like him.”

you snicker at the comments, which ultimately gathered shouto’s attention “what’s up, love?”

you show him the tiktok, “the tiktok did well.” he’ll comment calmly, but shouto’s lowkey MAD ?? that a dude had the audacity. but he’s just glad that you’re happy just maybe,, don’t go on omegle anymore 💀

“love— next time, let me in on your tiktoks.” he says, running a thumb along your cheek lightly. because he was actually quite entertained, putting everything aside

bakugou katsuki

as if bakugou katsuki would let you go on OMEGLE, a place that’s known for having the sketchiest people to ever exist— but make it virtual

but being with you made him realize that well,, if you want to do something, you’ll go through lengths just to do it.

even the great bakugou katsuki can’t really stop you. whatever makes you happy— but oh, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t highly discourage it

which lead you to go on omegle for a tiktok in the other room, while bakugou exercised in the very next room.

when you told him that you wanted to film a tiktok, bakugou only shrugged— “don’t do overly dumb shit.” was what he only told you and he left the door open too

you then set up your phone and laptop, applied the appropriate tags— and went off to make your tiktok

you only filmed the interesting encounters, and the people you met on there were very diverse in personality and just,, in general.

after the 4th encounter, then came a rather interesting dude. he didn’t seem all that ordinary but he wasn’t spectacular. he was just nice

and the conversation was rather normal— until he started asking for your socials “putting everything aside, do you have social media? you’re really cute.”

you reject immediately, “oh no, i appreciate your words but— i already have a boyfriend.”

you just have to hope that he noticed bakugou walking back and forth with equipment, but with his next words— that doesn’t seem to be the case

“i didn’t see anyone back there, a simple no would’ve been sufficient instead.” uh oh

“no really, i—” and before things escalated, katsuki’s head peaked through the door frame, freshly out of the shower “are you almost done, idiot?”

the dude literally looked behind you, and thought “oh shit, their boyfriend is bakugou fucking katsuki.” because bakugou is famous for,, multiple different reasons

the dude’s camera shakes in terror, “oh uhm,, it was nice meeting you!” not long before he dips from of the conversation, never to be seen again.

closing your laptop— you end the tiktok while bursting into laughter, and this action just confused katsuki ever further. he heard you speaking to someone, and when he looked, the person was nowhere to be seen

“what are you laughing at??”

“nothing katsuki, i was laughing at the tiktok i just made.”

then— you figured that it would be best to tell katsuki now that you were on omegle (long story short, he wasn’t pleased)

he scolded you that you shouldn’t be on omegle, but let’s be honest, he couldn’t stay mad at you— so he just cuddles the frustration away

when you upload the tiktok the following hours, it blows up pretty quickly—with comments like “LOL IS THAT BAKUGOU KATSUKI??” “he had guts until he saw bakugou katsuki 💀” “tbh i’d be scared too”

and when you report the news the katsuki, he smirks— “as he should be.”

midoriya izuku

at this point, izuku is very much used to your shenanigans on tiktok. he’s very supportive of whatever you do all in all

but, about omegle,,, yeah,, as much as he trusts you— he does not trust omegle. he’s aware that it’s a shady place, and he doesn’t advise that you do go on that website bc he cares

so when you brought up the tiktok idea, he proposed that he’d be there, right beside you just to monitor if anyone’s being weird :)

and that’s great! because you also wanted to ask if he wanted to be a reoccuring guest in your tiktok— and of course, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he opposed?

he helps you set up your laptop and phone— all of that sort of stuff, and then you guys were off to make an interesting tiktok

oh, but izuku did apply the appropriate tags because he didn’t want you to see odd things he was secretly nervous but,, you were very ethusiastic, so he was too.

the first several people were interesting in their own way— especially with their reactions to your boyfriend appearing on screen

usually, they’d back off with, and comment on how cute your boyfriend is— wishing the both of you well before calmly leaving to meet new people,

that was how it was, until you met this person in particular.

he sounded very,, egotistical— i wouldn’t say that because you’ve just met the dude, but he acted like everyone wanted him or it sounded like that

then he says, “you definitely have a phone number, right? you’re cute, just my type.” wkdksmd this is awkward since izuku’s right beside you, but he’s just outside of the frame

then, izuku pops out of the frame— in all his cute ass glory, he gives a small wave to the not so pleased stranger

“please, that’s your boyfriend?” he scoffs, “with those arms, he looks like he could be your little brother! now let me ask again—”

it’s really weird?? because have you seen izuku’s gainz?? and this dude’s audacity is extraordinary.

but little did this guy know, he’s looking at midoriya izuku— and,, you’ve seen his performance in the sports festival.

the dude takes another glance at your boyfriend, who’s sitting there right beside you— and he realizes who he was talking to

“oh shit, you’re—” and before the both of you could realize it, he nopes out of the conversation.

after that encounter, you burst into a fit of laughter— the look on izuku’s face being priceless. “you should’ve seen your reaction!”

“haha, i guess he knew who i was,” he says bashfully, cheeks warming up. because it registered in his mind that people actually knew who he was. “can you,, upload the tiktok later? i want to hug you— i mean! if that’s fine.”

of course it’s fine! you oblige, and give him all the hugs he could ever need

after cuddling with izuku, you do upload the tiktok— and an hour later, your tiktok notifications blow up

the tiktok all in all gathered 1M views, 780K likes, and over 1,500 comments— most of them saying stuff like

“your boyfriend’s reaction was so cute?? i know he looked like he was going to punch him through the screen but 👀” “last dude was just not it.” “LMAO HE REALLY TRIED IT” “is your boyfriend IZUKU MIDORIYA??”

when you excitingly showed him the tiktok’s results, he was certainly pleased— because most of the comments were positive, and also because the tiktok’s results made you happy

“i’m glad that it did well!” he’ll sigh in relief, pressing a kiss against your temple, let’s just not go on there ever again

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[themuselesswriter]

Against The Commanders’ Will

Characters: Octavia Blake, Lexa Kom Trikru

Summary: Lexa survived and joined Octavia at the bunker and together they ruled, however, the commanders of the past aren’t quite happy about it

Word count: 500+

Warnings: implied sexual act, nightmares

A/N: ignore the edit i was trying something out lmao, anyhoo, bare with me as i ship these two for a while. Also typos were made and i was too lazy to edit them!

Credits: polarrity - polarr filter by chrome, photos from Pinterest

——————————————————————————

Lexa's eyes shot awake as she screamed, the leaders of the past had been screaming at her, showing her the most horrific visions ever since she was united with the blood queen. As if they were trying to warn her from a fate that is doomed.

Her partner woke up next, taking a minute to process, she had placed a hand on Lexa's shoulder "are you okay?" she whispered, gulping, panting and sweating, she nodded.

Ever since they became trapped in the bunker, Octavia and Lexa came to a union, not one of anyone's liking though, the grounders thought Octavia was taking more control over the people, while Skaikru thought that Octavia was doing it for the sake of revenge.

Lexa admits that she's given Octavia a more saying as Oslya, the one who saved human race, but mainly because she was the leader their people needed at a time like this, the only one who gathered the knowledge of Skaikru and the grounders, she was the only one who knew what a hydro-farm does and also know how to speak fluent Trig.

At first, the commanders of the past supported this reunion, they saw it as a good alliance, but once Lexa began to feel more emotionally involved with Octavia, their rage began, and as the other took full control as the red queen while Lexa took a more... complimentary role, their rage began manifesting as constant torture whenever the Heda closed her eyes.

By now, Octavia was familiar with every detail about Lexa, she knew they way her eyes were open with terror that the brunette had another nightmare caused by the commanders, even though she never really knew the cause of them.

She handed the other a flask of water "it's gonna be okay" she whispered to her. Lexa took it gratefully and took a few sips, she handed it back to Octavia who put it away "do you want to talk about it?" Lexa shook her head, per usual.

Octavia nodded, placing a kiss on her bare shoulder "okay..." she said placing a second kiss, Lexa seemed more focus on Octavia's lips rather than her breathing, therefore, she began to calm down "what do you want to do then? How can I make it better?" the red queen asked in a whisper.

"keep doing what you are doing" Lexa whispered back, with a slight smirk, Octavia nodded at her partner then her lips wandered all over her bare shoulders and neck, leaving sweet kisses here and there, Lexa felt herself feel more relaxed, forgetting about the dreadful night.

Octavia pushed the covers off of them, exposing their bare bodies, she climbed on top of the other and began making out with her passionately, Lexa's attention had shifted from the nightmare of earlier, to the sweet taste of her lover's lips, savioring every minute as if her life counted on it.

Octavia isn't sure for how long they've been making out, but by the time they stopped, Lexa's worries were long gone and she met her partner's face with the biggest smile, if only the commanders knew, that their warning only drove the two closer to each other, making Lexa more dependant on the red queen "thank you" Lexa whispered "what for? I had my portion of fun too" Octavia smirked.

It was ridiccoulus how Octavia only felt like herself when she was embracing the other, the commanders think Lexa is being used by Octavia, while the truth is, both were using each other equally for comfort in these dark days, they were each other's source of joy.

"you know what I mean" Lexa rolled her eyes, the raven haired chuckled "hey, anytime" she replied, her eyes focused on her lover as she was facing her "will you ever tell me about those nightmare of yours?" Lexa's smile almost disappeared instantly "they are nothing that you can fight in the arena, besides, talking about them makes them real, I'd rather forget about everything and stay with you instead, here, in this moment"

[atlascas]

re-made my cover of presque vu from like 2 months ago bc i received the copy and realized i’d made a whole bunch of amateur mistakes re: typesetting and cover design, and was so bothered that i designed myself another copy (that is winging its way to me RIGHT now). notes under the cut if anyone’s interested! i needed a place to put all my thoughts about the process

so this was the old design:

i designed this first one in a day, and didn’t have any idea what i was gonna do beforehand - the concept ended up being like, arthur + arthur’s vision of paris being inverted + the surrealism of the pink ink. so like the corruption of dreaming seeping into arthur’s reality. saying i discovered the thematic elements along the way would be an understatement though lmfao

the only new fonts i used were for subtitles/the author name, as well as the publisher stuff on the back cover - otherwise i used preinstalled fonts. i didn’t prioritize the title either. i kinda worked it in around the design i had and hoped it wasn’t too hard to read against the pink

as for the typesetting/interior: i threw the manuscript in indesign, put in chapter #s, figured out page numbering/master pages, and set it in book antiqua. i also put in these handdrawn-ish dice end-stoppers and spaced them really weirdly, because i was scared the spaces between sections would be too big. actually for a lot of the interior stuff i was worried abt how spacing would look, so i left the text like. single spaced

and then i was really excited and i wanted to print it before i lost interest in the project entirely, so i did, and unfortunately all those issues that i overlooked in the design phase came back to bite me in the ass. like, i didn’t figure out the trim properly, so the barcode was way too close to the bottom of the book. the font was HUGE on the back, and made it look like a kid’s book. title/author on the spine were too small and spaced weird. the margins in the interior were too small on the bottom, spacing was way too small in general, book antiqua ended up looking weird in print (though at least half of that was also probably the spacing), and there were widows and orphans everywhere (single words/lines at the tops and bottoms of pages). there were also typos and little mistakes in the text itself. i couldn’t have figured all of that out w/o seeing it for myself in print, but i did immediately start taking notes on what i wanted to change w the next edition LMAO

so here are a few prototype designs i had before settling on my new design:

basically i tried to go into this cover design w a much stronger concept than i did for the first one. i worked through a few ideas before settling on my final design, and i let them sit for a while instead of impulse ordering! final concept ended up being how arthur’s life was effectively destroyed by dreaming - first his career, then mal, then his relationships w eames and dom in a terrible domino effect - while maintaining an iron grip control over himself through all of it. (that’s fallingwater, a parisian hausmann apartment building, and the tuileries exploding on the cover!)

made the font smaller on the back cover, made the text on the spine bigger, made sure the title stood out and was a focal point by using a display font, and tried to make a coherent color scheme via an exclusion filter

biggest changes were in the interior, though. i modelled it off the raven cycle books! i found a nicer serif font, double spaced, and made sure the margins were bigger. i also put all the text on a baseline grid and replaced the dice stoppers w a really nice symbol that i can’t copy paste here lol, which did wonders to line up my text on the grid. i also figured out justification/keep options to solve my widows/orphans problem, and did some light editing to ensure the last lines were even on the page. i just barely scraped the surface of typesetting too! even w all the research i did this time, i’m sure there’s more to typesetting that i haven’t discovered yet :’)

so fun so so exhilarating to see the entire thing come together. i can’t wait for the book to come in!!!!!!

[mymidsummersunshine]

Written very quickly and with minimal editing so I apologize for any typos or inconsistencies in verb tense lmao, but some birthday Grzork!

—

Anders steps off the ice at Warrior feeling good. There’s no reason for him not to, it’s the same feeling he gets after any good workout, and it’s also his birthday. He’s got dinner plans with some of the other guys later tonight. But there’s one of his former teammates he hasn’t been able to catch, and he’s the one he wants to see the most.

Right up until the trade deadline, Anders had thought he and Matt might be on their way to being something more than friends. Of course, covid had put a damper on that, they weren’t allowed to see each other outside of the rink, but they always made the most of the time they did have together. Matt would always laugh at his jokes in the locker room and on the bench, even if they weren’t that funny or didn’t make sense, and Anders wants to think that he did so more for him than for anyone else. They always found each other first in cellys when they were both on the ice together. In those moments, Anders could almost let himself believe.

But then.

It had all happened so fast. One day he was taking warm-ups before a game as a Bruin, and the next he was showing up to practice at Warrior, but as a Sabre, wearing new colors and a new number for the first time in his professional career, about to play against the guys who were just his teammates a mere 48 hours ago. In a way he’s almost glad Matt wasn’t able to play that game, because he’s certain it would have made it so much harder than it already was.

It’s not that they fell completely out of touch after that, but neither of them are really great about answering their phones. They would go weeks between answering texts sometimes, especially when Matt was in the playoffs, and then in the summer… it’s not that being halfway across the country made it impossible, but it certainly made it harder. And this doesn’t seem like the type of conversation that should be had over text, anyway. He wants it to be in person, and he thinks Matt would, too.

When he came back to Boston, Anders knew Matt would be skating at Warrior, and although the main reason he was too was to keep up with his off-season workouts, he can’t deny that there’s a little extra incentive at the chance they’ll run into each other and be able to talk finally. To maybe even hug. But it seems like they just keep missing each other. Matt would come in on a Monday when Anders is there on Tuesday, or he’d be there in the morning when Anders comes in the afternoon. He knows he could probably text him, but texting has not proven to be the most efficient way to contact each other. So he just holds onto hope that they’ll finally run into each other one of these days, before he has to pack up and go to Buffalo for the season.

Anders has no reason to believe today will be any different. It’s another day where Matt was on the ice in the morning and Anders in the afternoon, so when he steps off, he knows Matt will be long gone. He makes his way down the hallway to the locker room to shower and change, but when he gets to his stall, he’s surprised to see a little gift bag. He sets his stick down and takes off his gloves to open it, and inside is a card, addressed to him in Matt’s neat handwriting, and a box. He opens the box first to find a metal bracelet, with numbers carved into it. He smiles and slips it onto his wrist with the others. It’s a perfect fit. He opens the card next to read it.

Happy birthday, Anders! I wish I could have given you this in person, but I hope you still like it. It’s the coordinates of the Garden and the KeyBank center, and if either of us end up on another team I left room to add more (but I hope we don't). Anyway I hope you have the best day ever, you deserve it :)

Love, Matt

Anders has to stop himself from crying. It’s not even just about the bracelet, and the meaning of the numbers, although that alone is enough. But also just how much thought Matt had put into it. The fact that he still cares about him enough to give him a present at all on his birthday. Leaving room for their future, because he wants Anders to be in it. Signing the card with “Love.” He really wants to believe that’s what this is, because he knows he still loves Matt, too, even with all this distance and time between them.

“Just text him, man,” a voice says from behind him, causing Anders to jump. He turns around to find Torey, who has also been skating with them, and who had to put up with the two of them for several years. Not as much last year, obviously, being in a different division, but Anders doesn’t blame him for wanting them to just get it over with. So he pulls out his phone (which he was going to do anyway) and sends him a picture of the bracelet on his wrist.

Thank you so much, I love it ❤️

He hesitates for just a second before sending a follow up.

Do you want to come with us to dinner tonight?

He sets his phone down in the stall next to him and starts taking off his gear, not expecting a response right away. So he’s surprised when he hears it vibrate only a few seconds later.

I’d love to ☺️

[baekwin]

my top 5 works from this year // tagged by @taeminnomuyeppeo​ & @sehunlyone thank you loves!

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works.

winwin x title tracks has to be my favorite one to date, i think. (as i’m sure anyone who takes one look at my blog can tell akjdhfjsd) i love fonts & typography a lot and i’ve kind of experimented with it more lately but i think this was my favorite execution so far. plus i love making any and all tracklist sets, and i love dong sicheng, and i’m actually really proud of how the coloring turned out on each individual gif so yeah, this is my favorite thing i’ve made so far! 

exo in 2020 is my second favorite one. it follows kind of the same format as the previous one which i’ve come to quite like and i might make a few more with different people until i get inspired to do something new! plus somehow even though all the mvs are different, i think i somehow managed to make a generic enough coloring that nothing clashes and it actually looks kind of cohesive, which is wild to me 

blooming day tracklist: my first tracklist set after i started using vapoursynth!!! lmao but for real it’s yet another typo set, surprise surprise, and i love love love this music video so much + all the colors in it! it really inspired me and i’m really happy with the result. there are many things i would do differently now, but i’m still proud of it.

do kyungsoo for marie claire: i made this when i was trying my hand at straight up gfx before diving more into just typo, and then i was like “well this is pretty good and probably the best it’s gonna get from me” and then i just stopped akjshdkfhsd but really i do love how this turned out, especially the first panel!! it feels really whimsical or something with all the flowers and birds and antlers and tree branches and i just really am proud of being able to find textures that looked nice together bc that was always the hardest part for me and kind of why i stopped! 

winwin at nct u 90s love comeback interview: i know there’s really nothing special about this set but i just really love how the coloring turned out on it, i think it’s my favorite coloring i’ve made on a plain old gifset. so i’m putting it in here lmao

i know nobody asked but i’m gonna say it anyway aksjdhf looking back, i’m actually really proud of how far i came this year. i made my first gifset in july and the amount i was able to learn in just 6 months is really cool!! everyone who i’ve ever asked for help has always been so wonderful and just showered me with resources and advice so if you are one of those people thank u and i love u 💕 i started making gifs because i was at a really low point and i needed confidence in myself that if i really wanted to learn how to do something completely new, i just had to jump in and trust myself to figure it out as i went. and i think looking back i’ve gained that confidence! so even though there are some things i would change about my old sets if i made them now, i’m really proud of myself. and i think that started showing up in other parts of my life just how i hoped it would! 

tagging some of the wonderful talented ccs i’ve met here, you all make such beautiful gifs and edits and content!! @delhyun @ciaozhan @dokyunqsoo @jsuh @kaibility @kaiternity @wabisaba @exo-stentialism @yukbaeks

[egg2k16]

40 Fanfic Q’s Answered

the server wants answers, and they want them now!!! from this post

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Smut and pining all the way. Also, falling in love via laughing

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Eh...I don’t think so, I’m always 100% self-indulgent, so what u see is what I want

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Anything that has to do w mega sadness, I just Don’t. I can’t write anything sad, and if I do, there’s certainly gonna be A Lot of comfort afterwards

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

I have 91 wips, motherfuckers!!! My latest wip is a daddy month fic!

5. Share one of your strengths.

I think, since I’ve been trying to be sparser in my words, I’ve been able to better emphasize what isn’t being said

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

No action scenes from me are ever good, lmao

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

It was late at night, when he started to cry.

He didn't want to cry, but he did.

It's been years since he's last let himself feel, or was it since he was last allowed to feel?

He choked on his sobs, uncomfortable with his tears. He's forgotten how to properly cry. His entire body is shaking, and the connections between flesh and wire hurts.

He stops crying. He starts crying again.

This continues for another few minutes, until he feels as if he can't possibly have any more tears.

He wipes his face, pulls the covers up to his chin, and falls asleep.

(from Twilight on the Sea) I really like this bcus I don’t think I’ve ever really typed out crying in this way, n I tried to make it feel like it was a lot

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Cass was quiet for a moment. “... you know what? Maybe I’ll just go up there and surprise you.”

“If you do, then you already ruined the surprise, haven’t you?”

“Eh, I dunno about that. Seeing my beautiful face is a shock for many people.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

“Hey, Koda? I don’t know about you, but it’s really late here.”

“Really?” Koda asks, then remembers that time zones exist. “Oh crap, what time is it over there?”

“It’s midnight. What about you?”

“It’s eight o’clock. Only four hours difference?”

“Oh hey, that’s not so bad.”

“It reduces our time,” Koda said, a bit whining.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“What are you going to do? Move here? Send for me?”

“You’ll see.”

(from Together) This was a gift for one my best friends on here, @suncatchr​ , and it’s about his ocs!!! I love this a lot bcus while it’s a soulmate au, it’s not ur average soulmate au, and I tried making it as original as possible! And this blurb, I just wanted them to effuse so much love w/o having to say love...cries

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

If this is by posted fics, then I remember writing Look What You’ve Done to Me was very very difficult, bcus, since it’s also a gift, for @daniel-bryan​ , I wanted to write it Good, n since my buddy usually wrote from the love interest’s pov, I felt a weird pressure to write Daniel Bryan’s pov as good as I could

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

2 of my fics in Spanish!!! My oc centric one, Rayos y Centellas, and my shyan one, oye cariño, solo pienso en ti ! Turns out writing in ur native tongue makes everything easier

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

It’s a very passionate hobby!!! I just!!! try to pour all of my love into everything I write!!!

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

I’m not sure!!! I just watch movies n quietly scream to my gay lonesome bcus No One Ever Watches Movies ;-;

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

To just keep writing n not stop for details or forgotten lore, bcus it’s important to write down what’s firing u up Right Now. Of course, it’s very difficult following that ;;-;;

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

“No adverbs!” “No ‘said’!” “It has to make grammatical sense!” sometimes things Need those

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Was gonna say my rewrite of the end of The Rover, but actually, my SPN fic Ube . Shit was peak inspired

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Eridirk (Eridan Ampora/Dirk Strider from Homestuck) all the way. The one otp that’s stayed thru thick n thin <3

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

A little mix of both, and tbh it depends on the fic, but I tend to write chronologically

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

I’ve started bullet pointing my ideas out before writing my fics, and so far, it’s been helping me be more streamlined n get my things written out faster n clearer!

19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

Is the need for representation in all the niche movies I keep watching a muse?

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

In my dark room, w music blasting from my laptop, the TV w a soft hum, I have the perfect playlist to get the mood right, curled up in my blankies, n my plushie Sweet Pea by my side

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Zero, we rely on autocorrect & editing while typing and die like men

22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

YOU DON’T SEEM SCARED.

Del Rio shrugs. “Working as a cop, it makes you numb to some things. It’s good, it lets you react to things as you should, and not how you’d want to.”

YOU SOUND SAD ABOUT THAT.

He makes a noncommittal noise. “It is what it is.” He eats another spoonful of his ice cream, then gets a thought.

“Can you show up?”

HOW SO?

“Can you,” he tries, waving his spoon around, “Manifest?”

I DON’T KNOW. I’LL TRY.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Del Rio assures, and he can feel the air around him smile. The...world, he thinks, around him shifts just slightly, and there seems to be a chink in the armor for a moment before it goes away, as if someone had wiped the glass clear. He realizes that this is her, trying to show up in a physical form, step out of the phone.

He doesn’t know where to look, but then his confusion wanes when a butterfly shows up, fluttering towards him. It lands near his phone, skitters a bit, flaps its wings.

“Lucy?” he asks, transfixed on the butterfly. Its orange wings are bright under the sunlight.

I THOUGHT I’D TRY SMALL, FOR MY FIRST TRIAL.

“Well, you certainly nailed it.” He smiled warmly at the butterfly, and he had the crazy notion that it smiled back at him.

(adapted from The Policeman , the first fic I posted!)

23. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Yeah, probably The Policeman lmao, I remember it today n I cringe a little at the very obvious refs to other fandoms I made. Despite that, it continues being one of my best hits!

24. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Never

25. What do you look for in a beta?

I’m just thankful to have gotten a beta in general in life at all

26. Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I beta’ed once, and since English is my 2nd language, I pointed out syntax confusion, typos, n continuity errors

27. How do you feel about collaborations?

Can be done, it’s just that I am frightened. Tried doing that, it fell thru, n the new thing that came up, I still have to hold up my end of the bargain ;;-;;

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

cries omg ok so!!! Chancy_Lurking ( @lurkerviolin​ ) is one of my faves, n we’ve become friends, n their Felix+ Sense8 series is the reason for it all, and u know it’s good if it managed to make a friendship that’s last its good while, and also they’re so nice, and we vibe so well!!! thegoatz ( @daniel-bryan​ ) is also now one of my bestest friends ever, and I wuv him so much, he is such a good kid, n he’s so enthusiastic about writing, and I hope that spark never goes out!!! And adamwhatareyouevendoing ( @skatingthinandice​ ) bcus she’s doing a rewrite of The Last Kingdom where it’s all gay where it should be and vnjkdfsnvkd God, what a wonderful friend!!!

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I actually technically am working on a sequel to @rettaroo​ ‘s A New Kind of Touch ! Another promise I have to hold up eventually ;;;-;;;

30. Do you accept prompts?

Sure!

31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I try to follow canon as much as I possibly can!

32. How do you feel about smut?

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

33. How do you feel about crack?

Eh, it’s alright. I don’t normally look for it, so I don’t really have a solid opinion on it

34. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

I don’t want to read it, but I have so far encountered it twice very amicably: once here in a ficlet, and another in a longer fic on AO3, and they were both very good

35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

Probably not, I don’t like sad things!

36. Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3! I’m RedLlamas on it!

37. Talk about your current wips.

Lmao which one. The one I’m currently working on is an impregnation kink turned “oh no I actually do wanna have a family” feelings fic!

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

Gonna be real w u, the best comments I’ve gotten have mainly been from my friends, who either write a paragraph or two going into detail of the fic, or just send a one sentence comment that’s just “screams!” I’ve gotten very few paragraphs from other people, n they’re always so!!!

My friends are the realest :’)

39. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

The perks of being a rarepair writer is that the only people who read my fics are the ones actively looking for content!!! And they can’t complain about my work because No One Else Is Writing For It!!!!!!

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

All my fics are masterpieces, so I’ll do a summary change! For don’t you just know (exactly what they’re thinking?)

Dakota finds himself in unexpected heartbreak, and the universe decides to bring him in the direction of a night club with a dancer with stars on his skin.

[polzkadotz]

Asas reread their fics - ftayc - part 4

And we’re back to rereading this fic!!!! last chapter i reread was the 7k monster of chapter 3, and this one... oh. Oh, this is also 7k?

wowie

if you want a spoiler to interest you, here we go lmao

we begin with this author’s note bc I don’t think I ever really talked about it here on my tumblr???

It was sort of my first time being recommended, really. I had noticed that my hit count had gone up substantially and I couldn’t understand it, but it was nice??? and then i found the post on the library and I was like Oh. I See.

Whoever it was that recommended me, thank you. Seriously.

But enough mushy-wushy, let’s tackle this giant.

We begin with this exchange, which...

I was trying to be funny and this still makes me smile so at least I amuse myself lmao

Neil needs to free himself of the plot device I pulled out of nowhere and he taps into his reserves of power that he has hid away for, basically, forever. One thing that I wish I had made more clear, which was basically the vitriol going through my mind as I wrote this fic, was that Neil had been cutting himself of his powers and how powerful he was for a fucking long time because

1) he bought into his mom’s reasoning that his father was simply Not Someone They Could Face and Win

2) he had made himself fit into a mold that would “make him survive” but, by doing so, he basically chained himself to a fraction of the three-dimensional person he used to be, which made meeting Jean and finding out that he had become a pet god for a human even worse because Neil could see all the ways they were similar but Neil had been doing that shit to himself voluntarily.

Originally, when I thought about making Neil a god in this fic, I did think about modeling him out of an existing god but also, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to make him be someone who was struggling with letting himself be what he was with his full-potential. Someone who had been cutting himself back for so long he had basically lost whatever sense of personhood he used to have. Someone who had started to get tired of cutting parts of himself and forgetting what he used to be so he would survive for--

What? Survive for what? Neil eventually realized he hadn’t been a person for too long and as long as his father was alive, he would never feel safe to be.

Now that I think about it, Neil was very much me working through my own shit about trying to live as myself at the same time that I had different versions of past me struggling with the person I was becoming. The person I wanted to be.

Anyway, back to the story.

There’s a throwaway paragraph where I sort of tease that Andrew’s dragon is becoming "hungry” and it was basically me trying very hard to foreshadow that the priest thing was going to happen lmao

After battling for two paragraphs against the thought of creating a new priest, Neil gets them back on track to go as far away as its possible for both dragons flying.

Nicky tries to get Neil to talk about the god thing, and I like how I made it clear that even being reminded that he had been a god was something conflicting to Neil.

And then we get to the part where Neil suddenly remembers that he has a lot more money than what he had previously said in the first few chapters, but who cares about plot consistency, am I right? Does it show that this fic was edited hastily? Because I can guarantee that it was :3

They stop in Mumbai, I think (the place is not important for past Asas and honestly... can’t say that’s changed lol). Nicky tries to get Neil to talk more about being immortal and stuff. Neil gives a bit of backstory, as a treat, and Kevin reveals what he knows, as a threat I guess lmao

I kind of imply that Neil only had one priest, which... I remember is not what I put in the sequel.............. so I do recommend you reread your fics before writing a new piece, wink-wink

OH MY GOD I MADE NICKY ASK WHY NEIL’S ENGLISH “WASN’T WEIRD” AND THEN I REPLIED WITH A SENTENCE THAT WAS BASICALLY STRUCTURED WITH PORTUGUESE GRAMMAR AND SOUNDS VERY WRONG IN ENGLISH

Asas... my god, Asas.

Anyway, after a lot of questioning, they eventually go to sleep and, when Neil wakes up from a nightmare, he has his daily fairy tale dose from Andrew, who’s also awake. I gotta be honest, I don’t even remember that fairy tale but it explains the Aaron, Andrew and Tilda.

After everybody wakes up from their naps, they go to their last destination: Tokyo.

Wait lemme check:

when did they leave Mumbai in my story?

when did they reach Tokyo?

yeah, that math totally checks out.

Whatever. As they arrive in Tokyo, Neil splurges even more money on a hotel for the whole crew, even though they had been pretty not nice to him as a whole lmao. But! The boy believed he was going to die, so what was he going to do with all that money?

Nothing, so he programmed an email to be sent to Andrew with the info for some of his bank accounts and fucked off to try and find what his mother had stolen.

Neil gets on a ferry that will take six hours to reach the island where is the volcano that his mother had made him hide his father’s immortality. Neil got nekkid because he wanted to have clothes when he got out of the volcano, you know?

(Also, yes, I’m gonna ignore the other time inconsistency from his travel inside Japan, I was very much pressured by the whole “got recommended on the library” okay, you can judge me through those lenses)

Unfortunately, for him, he wasn’t alone when he finally climbed out of the volcano.

Fortunately for him, this Ichirou Moriyama doesn’t want his father, who is very much interested in becoming immortal, to actually become immortal. Neil explains the whole immortality thingy (I found some typos and honestly? I shan’t fix them. It adds character) and Ichirou subtly kicks Neil’s clothes closer to him, which... I get it, my guy. It’s kind of difficult to have an intimidating conversation when someone’s bits are out and about.

As they are trying to hash out their problem -- as in, Neil’s father told them that Neil’s immortality would be viable to cure Kengo --, Andrew appears blowing his ball of flames onto both of them, and Neil uses his powers to create a pocket that repels the fire, so it doesn’t touch him or Ichirou.

(Why didn’t he use those powers on his clothes, as well? Dunno, don’t poke at my plot too much or it will definitely crumble right into your face, you’re gonna inhale too much dust and die from fandom toxicity, AND THAT’S NO WAY TO REACH A GOOD DEATH)

btw:

Neil, my dude. The dragon thought you were in danger? Chill out???

Neil rages for a few seconds but quickly turns that into a situation to ask Moriyama for his protection against his father, since Neil just technically saved his life.

Oh, and if you think “Uhhh, why would Neil even believe that Ichirou would keep his word?”

Don’t worry, I gotchu:

Ichirou agrees with the deal, for plot reasons. Since he got a deal out of it kind of easily, Neil thinks, “Wait a minute. If I give my father’s immortality to this Moriyama, literally passing the hot potato around, then the Moriyamas won’t be after me for an immortality, my father probably won’t be immortal and come after me as the death machine he used to be and I might be able to use it to free a certain god????”

So Neil uses his father’s immortality to bargain for Jean’s freedom, and he doesn’t wait for Moriyama’s response for that one. He simply hops onto dragon!Andrew’s back and they fly away into the... sunset? Sunrise? Don’t ask me, I clearly can’t keep track of the time passage in my fics.

And this is the end of the chapter!

Let me say something that I hope will be quick: this chapter felt much better written to me then the other three. It’s shaky in places, definitely, and it could’ve gone through a more severe round of editing, but I can certainly feel the positive outcomes of the pressure I felt after my work got a shout-out. This fic had been pretty much geared towards myself, so writing about the world-building wasn’t my focus at all in the other three chapters. In this one, I try to at least explain some concepts I came up with which???? Go me??????

I still wish I had taken the time to work on this entire fic to make it as close to what I had in my head, but in a comprehensive form for the attention that it got, you know? I mean, from the ashes you crawl is still my most everything -- most kudos, hits, comments, bookmarks...  It deserved so much better but also... I like that it feels rough? I like that it can clearly help to contrast the growth of my style or whatever?

It was written after a long, long writer’s block, and it only got edited and posted because I decided to participate in an event for a different fandom and it got me excited about writing again.

Anyway, I’ve talked too much. Here’s to hoping I can contain myself in the next posts lmao

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6

[juminsmysticmc]

Hey hey! How would the RFA(+ V and Searan) react to an innocent mc who knows jujitsu?

 RFA + Minor Duo with an innocent Mc who knows Jiu Jiutsu

Hiiii babe! At first I thought you meant Jutsu like Naruto and asked myself if you had a typo. Lmao, when I however decided to google I realized what you meant, hahah! I hope you enjoy this Headcanon! Please tell me your opinion! Have a nice day. 

Ps. TBH I wanted to edit my old posts but I don’t have time so I will post something this is quicker somehow

Jumin 

The two of you were walking hand in hand through the city. 

Of course a few Bodyguards stayed behind the two of you since Jumin cared a lot about your safety. 

But still a guy who wanted to take your purse successfully pushed Jumin, making him stumble a bit. 

Jumin’s thought were filled with you, his lovely innocent wife who had no protection right now. 

He wanted to hold you, just for a moment more until the guard would have reached the two of you but you…. 

,,Hayahhh!’’ with a strong kick you stopped the man who landed on the ground. 

He didn’t even try to get up but stayed like that. 

,,It’s good that you decided to give up.’’ you smiled at him after the guard caught him. 

,,What was that my love, don’t do something dangerous like that anymore…’’ Jumin begged you and hugged you strongly. 

,,This was Jiu Jitsu! Martial Art!!’’ you told him happily and told him about the sport. 

Zen 

Well, Zen was once again bragging about you. 

He was always bragging about you. 

About your beauty, your good mood, your bright smile, your kindness and of course about how innocent you were and how much he loved to keep yo safe. 

,,Really?’’ a colleague asked him as he smirked at Zen. 

Zen didn’t like his dirty smile and questioned the meaning. 

,,Look at your back, prince in the shining armor.’’ 

Zen looked around just to see you, his beautiful girlfriend, battling with a big guy. 

,,I give up! I give up!’’ the man whined as he hold up his arms. 

,,Ladies and Gentlemen! You just saw the Jiu Jiutsu’s art! It’s not about strength vs. strength but to use the strength of the one attacking you against himself!’’ you told them. 

Zen observed you open mouthed. 

,,MC…..’’ he mumbled. 

,,No need to worry about your beauty now, darling. Your girlfriend will protect you from now on!’’  

Yoosung 

,,Honey!’’ you called your husband Yoosung, who was currently stroking Lisa. 

,,Yes, Mc?’’ he asked you as he looked up. 

,,I want to show you something. To make your character stronger and show you self defence.’’ 

You decided out of the blue. 

He looked at you with big eyes. 

,,Not that you’re not strong enough or so, but I learned Jiu Jitsu long time ago and I want to show it to you too!’’ you told him. 

Yoosung agreed with you thinking that you meant something to relax with tea. 

When you however showed him some techniques he was pretty surprised. 

,,Uhm…how come that you can do this…?’’ he asked you. 

,,Well, in the past I wasn’t really secure of myself and pretty scared of everything and so my dad taught me Jiu Jitsu.’’ you explained. 

Yoosung really liked to listen about your past since he didn’t know as much about you as you knew about him.  

And since then the two of you practiced Jiu Jitsu. 

Jaehee (for ,,haters’’ »Jaehee is Mc’s Girlfriend here« so pls don’t complain)

Your beautiful girlfriend wasn’t aware of your hobby.

And so when she saw you while watching a Jiu Jitsu video on YouTube, she asked you if she should show you Judo, since it was easier to practice with her than with a teacher in a display. 

You however began to laugh loudly. 

,,No, my dear. No need for that. I already know Jiu Jitsu. To be honest I’m pretty good at it. Don’t tell me that I forgot to tell you?’’ you laughed. 

,,Yes, you did!’’ she told you with a surprised tone. 

,,But, Mc…I never expected you to know something like that, amazing!’’ she praised you and smiled brightly. 

You were indeed pretty proud about yourself. 

You decided to show her wat you could do. 

She was indeed amazed by you! 

Saeyoung 

,,Mc…Mc…Mc….Mc…Mc…’’ he called you over and over for three minutes. 

You were honestly pretty tired by this and so you nicely asked him to stop. 

Well, of course he didn’t stop. 

And so at one point, even through this wasn’t the sense of the Martial Art, you began to kick him and choke him. 

,,Woah, woah, woah!’’ he shrieked and tried to hold you back. 

Unfortunately he didn’t expect you to be that strong and so he got pushed back by you. 

The two of you began to fight. 

Between snaps he asked you why you were so good. 

However, out of your fighting, kisses formed and the two of you weren’t fighting in the living room anymore but kissing wildly. 

,,I’m…not…going….to…tell…you!’’ you moaned between kissed. 

,,CAN’T YOU GO AWAY?! THAT’S THE LIVING ROOM!’’ Saeran yelled as he saw the two of you almost half naked. 

Saeran 

The two of you enjoyed the day at the sea at a sunny Saturday. 

The two of you stayed below the umbrella today since the sun was pretty hot. 

But then the two of you heard two boys yelling and crying. 

You abruptly got up, looking around to search the loud voices. 

,,Mc, I will go to check. Please stay here...“ he mumbled. 

The two of you decided to travel a bit around since you left Jumin‘s vacation house. 

But you were totally against his idea and simply followed him. 

Saeran tried to go between them but one of the boys simply ignored him and was about to punch the weaker boy once again. 

That’s when you used the change to use your Jiu Jitsu art. 

You used the boy‘s strength against himself and beat him. 

Luckily the police came pretty soon and solved the situation. 

But Saeran was still surprised by you. 

,,Wow…Mc…this was so good…but please stay back the next time….I don’t know if I could have hold back if he would have hit you…“ Saeran mumbled and put his head on your chest. 

Jihyun 

Since a long time the two of you noticed that something was odd with your adopted daughter, Lucy. 

Jihyun felt helpless as a man and dad when you told him that Lucy related you how other boys were bulling her because she was adopted. 

,,Maybe we should teach her self defense...“ he mumbled. 

That’s when you had the idea to teach her Jiu Jitsu. 

And so one day the two of you were practicing in the garden. 

Jihyun didn‘t know at first but then when he searched you to show you a good self defense course he saw you. 

He was really amazed by your beauty and strength. 

He immediately took his camera to take pictures of the two of you. 

When you finally noticed him, you could only laugh. 

,,I never knew that you were that strong…“ he mumbled while Lucy was practicing. 

,,I‘m not the helpless woman, dear.“ 

MASTERLIST 1MASTERLIST 2

 16.04.’19// 21:21 MEST

Tagged: 

@foreversunshine-love @giulia2372 @milkyxstrawberry 

@widya345 @remiliadacalde @sailormoonrocks666 @r-f-a-journalists  

[izzy-b-hands]

15, 19, 22, 30!

Ayy sorry it took me a bit to answer these; thank you for asking!!

15. Where does your inspiration come from?

Anywhere lol. Sometimes places I don’t want to admit because they’re just weird or unexpected (for example, zoning out and staring at my own hand while tipsy for...I don’t even know. It was at least fifteen minutes. I’m not proud of it, but after I finally came back round I got the idea for a particularly saucy bit of smut between Ainsley and Eggsy...that is in a WIP I can’t seem to get finished, so may never be published, but I am trying, I swear!) 

Certain recurring ideas and themes in my original work come from stuff I spend probably too much time thinking about. My last original story that I posted on here, for example, came about because I was thinking about how I was starting to not feel well (and now here I am with what I am hoping are not actual COVID symptoms, and are just a summer cold or something) which led to me rewriting my will the night prior to writing the story, which then led to me going ‘man, I hate the idea of the Christian Heaven and Hell and it doesn’t mesh at all with what I actually belief despite it being what I was taught, but what if like the afterlife was a wasteland and you basically had to go explore it to make the afterlife into something you want? How fucked up would that be?’ Also I’ve been wanting to buy myself a nice suit and was craving an apple at the time, so I gave my characters suits and some apples. I’m a simple man, at times. 

19.  First line of a WIP you’re working on.

“This isn’t done to punish you, Eggsy.”

(I’m excited for this one, but I’m trying to write it and some Sledgefu and the rest of After the Afterlife, so it is...slow going, lol.) 

22.  How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?

Ah. Yes. Well...I am, how you say, a bad writer, in this regard? 

I don’t draft, not really. Most of what I publish, I’d say a good 95% is first draft, published the day I started it with few minor edits (usually typos or me accidentallying a word and actually noticing it before I publish for once lol.) Any poetry you see from me? Almost definitely a first draft I banged out and tossed in my queue lmao. 

Even my WIPs that I have sitting will go out mostly in their original form, unless I decide to make a major change to the story. But otherwise, I don’t ever really sit and rewrite out the whole thing to see if I want to change it (and believe you me, if y’all potentially hate that fact,  my hs writing teacher hated finding it out even more, after not believing that this is my usual method of writing. I had to show her time stamps on my words docs before she believed it, and after that hounded me to start drafting properly. Sorry Dr. Werner, old and bad habits die hard, and in this case not much at all!) 

It might not hurt me to start doing it someday, but for now, my bad habit works for me lol. 

30.  Favorite line you’ve ever written.

Oh shoot. This one took a bit; I’ve got a few lines that I admit make me vainly go ‘oh that was nice, wasn’t it?’ 

However, I’m not organized so I don’t have them like...notated anywhere lol. So I had to do a bit of fic rereading to find them again and make sure whichever one I chose for this answer I would be quoting the right fic. 

That said, I decided to choose a recent one, from After the Afterlife Ch. 6: 

‘ Things wouldn’t be the same after this, but that was okay. They were going to be better. ‘

I wrote that when I was feeling pretty down about my own situation, but it gave me hope, and it still does. Because it applies to the story, but also to things in general. Things change, and they will continually, for the better and for the worse. But the belief that gets me through my days now is that there will always be better somewhere in it, even if the change itself is difficult. I didn’t gain that belief until the last few years, and it’s a work in progress to maintain hope like that. But I prefer it to what I have before, which is why I wanted to give it to Eggsy and crew in this fic as well. Hope can be as bitter as a lack of hope, but there’s just enough sweet notes in hope to make it taste better, if that makes sense. 

[enby-jetstar]

doesn’t have to all be destruction - Chapter 1 author commentary

Most of this will be under a readmore to make it easier to read. Read at your own risk, as this does include SPOILERS for later chapters! Please enjoy!! 

-----

-I feel like my prologue chapters are a little dry to read? Too much background information, not enough description. The writing style is very different from later chapters.

-don’t ask me how party and kobra knew what route to take to get out of the city because i have no idea lmao 

-i also never had a definite timeline for when party and kobra left the city? I think it was probably a week or two after they figured out they had powers.

-the gathering of rebels party came across the night they escaped the city was in fact a celebration of something big (probably a commitment ceremony or a birth or something similar); when they came back with their brother a couple of days later and found everything abandoned, it’s because the rebels had headed back home.

-because i didn’t have all the details figured out when i started writing, some of the details in the first couple chapters don’t really match up with stuff that comes later? The rebel who smuggled ghoul out of the city would have been a city rebel, not a desert rebel who’d snuck in.

-this fic doesn’t follow the canon timeline at all. BL/ind’s been in charge for about 75 years at the time the events of destruction take place, which is also about how long superpowers have been a thing.

-god ghoul’s backstory…..! I’m so sorry for doing this to you ghoul baby you didn’t deserve it 

-i really wish i’d made ghoul trans in this fic :/ let’s just pretend he is and he knew from a young age and so his parents changed his name to dante before he left the city okay? okay.

-i love writing party and kobra’s relationship….. My favorite siblings

-i just found a fucking typo in CHAPTER 1?? It’s been there for almost NINE MONTHS and no one thought to tell me that i called jet “Jet” at a point i should have been calling him “Gabriel.” i’m going to edit that as soon as i’ve posted this.

-jet’s dad’s death has come up a few times in comments and i have to say that i honestly didn’t mean to make it seem as suspicious as i did!! Jet’s dad died of totally natural causes, just not of something 14-year-old jet noticed. 

-ALSO THIS IS LITERALLY NOT CANON!!! This is another problem with not having all the details worked out: in chapter 1, jet’s powers activate and he accidentally kills his teacher’s wife. I later decided that jet’s powers had a limited range and that the ways he could influence things were also limited; he literally could not have killed this woman in the way described. I might come back and actually edit this out at some point, because it seriously just does not fit with later chapters.

-ALSO NOT CANON: kobra has no way of sensing anyone’s mind when they’re asleep. He couldn’t have sensed ghoul inside the shack.

-ghoul rambling to kobra inside his head is the cutest thing…..

-although ghoul relies heavily on kobra to control and direct his power, ghoul could learn how to control it himself if he worked at it. He was too scared to do so before he met kobra, though, and now he doesn’t really see the point/still doesn’t wanna risk it.

-the word that ghoul almost said in response to kobra blowing up a cactus was just “how?”

-this fic was originally gonna be titled “The Infamous Killjoys,” which was gonna be the name of their supervillain team, but my zucchini suggested naming it “doesn’t have to all be destruction” because they liked that line (kobra says it in response to ghoul’s doubts about his powers), and i agreed. I’m really glad i went with that, because that theme sort of carried on throughout most of the fic, with jet wanting to control his powers and all that happened later.

-making the superheroes the bad guys and the supervillains the good guys was really fun for me! Obviously there’s a few stories/movies and stuff out there that do that, so it’s not an original idea or anything, but it was a fun little role-reversal or whatever you wanna call it.

-jet’s my favorite character and that’s why i gave him the shortest straw of the bunch. Sorry jet star darling.

-----

This concludes my thoughts on Chapter 1! If you want anything expanded on or want me to address something else from the chapter, feel free to send me an ask. I’ll do Chapter 2 tomorrow, probably!

[artificialqueens]

Settling Down 1/? [craquaria pregnancy au] - Dyslexaaa

A/N: hey all! Honestly I was blown away that so many of you liked Baby Pickles despite the typos and how rushed it was, lmao. This is going to be a much more hashed out and in depth story, and it’ll probably be around 11/12 chapters but I’m not sure yet. Please let me know if anyone has any comments or questions or whatever. Enjoy!!

“I think we should have a baby.” Miz looked at her wife, mid-bite of her bagel, and blinked. Aquaria sat across from her, hands folded in front of her on their dining table, eggs untouched. Her face was pink and she looked nervous, which was not at all like Aquaria. Miz put her bagel down and chewed for a few seconds before answering. She would have to remember to buy more raspberry jam - the jar she used was nearly empty. “I thought we agreed that we’d have one?” she asked, mildly confused, “So, yeah. Baby.” Aquaria swallowed air and nodded. “I know,” she said, “but I’ve been thinking a lot lately and just… I really want one now,” she reached across the table and took Miz’s hand in hers, squeezing gently, “I know we had a five year plan, but I’m scrapping it. It’s thrown out. And it’s replaced with having a baby.”

Miz rubbed her thumb over Aquaria’s hand as she spoke, nodding a little.

“Well, we don’t want to throw out the whole plan, Aqua,” she said, laughing a little, “but we can edit it. Work with it, and move some things around.” Aquaria nodded and squeezed Miz’s hand tighter.

“I just really want a baby with you,” she said softly, “I want to start a family with you. I mean, we already are a family, but – “

She cut herself off, biting her lip. Miz stood up from her seat, going around their little table and pulling Aquaria against her chest into a hug.

“I know what you mean,” she said softly as her wife’s long arms wrapped around her, “being those obnoxious people who picnic in the park with their kids, right?”

Aquaria snorted as Miz grinned down at her.

“Exactly,” she said, nuzzling her wife, “going to the ocean with our baby, taking them traveling. Buying them birthday and Christmas gifts.”

“When did you get so domestic?” Miz teased, kissing the top of Aquaria’s head.

“When you fell asleep with the Hallmark channel on one night,” Aquaria retorted, poking her wife’s belly. Miz giggled and rested her head on top of Aquaria’s.

“I can’t help that I love cheesy romance,” she said, “but I especially love it if it makes you a cheesy romantic.”

Aquaria sighed and pressed an open palm to her wife’s stomach. Her t-shirt was old and warn, which just made it feel that much more softer under Aquaria’s hand. Miz slept in it often, and it smelled exactly like her.

“Can you imagine a baby in here?” she whispered, grinning up at Miz who smiled back at her.

“I’ll call my doctor,” she said, putting her hand over Aquaria’s, “and get an appointment to see what kind of shape I’m in. It could be a couple months before we can even think about a pregnancy, hence the five year plan,” she poked Aquaria’s nose when she mentioned ‘five year plan,’ and her wife smiled.

“I love you,” she said softly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Miz leaned down, her blonde hair loose and still tangled from sleep, and kissed her wife chastely.

“I love you, too,” she mumbled against Aquaria’s lips.

–

That evening, Miz was finishing up a work assignment on her laptop in the kitchen when Aquaria came home after running a few errands.

“Hey,” she called to her wife while typing away, “welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Aquaria answered over the sound of unzipping her coat and rustling shopping bags, “glad to be back. ‘S cold outside.” Miz hummed her agreement, readjusting how she sat on the stool next to their counter. An empty bag of Doritos sat abandoned next to her.

“You get all your errands done?” Miz asked.

“Yes,” Aquaria answered, stepping into the kitchen and dumping her bags onto their table. She reached into one of the bags – Barnes and Noble – and pulled out a handful of books. Miz watched her idly as she finished up her typing, ready to send the second draft of an article she was writing to her boss.

“Look what I got,” Aquaria said proudly, setting the stack of books next to Miz, “and before you say anything – no, I really couldn’t help myself.” Miz smiled as she hit the “send” button on her email and shut the lid to her laptop.

“What did you get?” she asked, tilting her head as she glanced at the pile of books.

Aquaria had bought at least three baby books, a book filled with baby names, and a nursery rhyme book. Miz put a hand over her mouth and tried to hide the smile breaking out over her face.

“You’re such a goof,” she said, laughter in her voice as she picked up one of the baby books, “how did you manage this?”

Aquaria kissed the top of Miz’s head and grinned.

“I was passing by the store on my way home and thought I could stop in and see what they had,” she said, twirling a piece of Miz’s hair on her finger, “and then I ended up having to buy all of these.”

Miz tutted and flipped through the book of names, browsing idly.

“Any names you like?” Miz asked, affection in her voice.

“I like Aquaria Jr.” her wife said with a straight face, and Miz laughed aloud.

“Aquaria Jr, huh?” she said, shutting the book, “you freaking goof.”

Aquaria hugged her wife and nuzzled her head, swaying lightly with her. Miz wrapped her arms around her wife’s torso and smiled.

“I’m your goof,” she said affectionately, “and we can name the next one Miz Jr.”

“Next one,” Miz sighed, “we haven’t even had the first one.”

“I know,” Aquaria said with a kiss to the top of her head, “but I’m just so excited. I really have been thinking about this for a long time and just…”

Aquaria let out a happy sigh and kissed her wife’s head again.

“Let’s go practice making a baby,” she said, pulling back and wiggling her eyebrows.

“That’s not how it works with us,” Miz snorted, rolling her eyes.

“I know,” Aquaria whined, tugging Miz out of her seat, “but I’m trying to seduce you and you’re not letting me.”

“Yeah, because you’ve got all those bags to put away on the table,” Miz retorted, letting herself be pulled off the stool. Aquaria looked over her shoulder and waved a hand dismissively.

“I’ll take care of that later,” she said, pulling her wife in close to her, “promise.”

“Mm,” Miz sighed, leaning up to kiss her wife, “you better.”

Aquaria grinned as she kissed her wife and giggled, “I need to get used to putting stuff away, right?”

“Right,” Miz giggled back, “babies get into everything.”

“I know,” Aquaria answered, lips touching Miz’s, “our baby’s wiggled their way into my heart and they’re not even here yet.” Miz answered with a deep kiss, reaching up and running her hands through Aquaria’s hair.

“Less talking,” she sighed, “more baby making.”

Aquaria was too happy to oblige.

[communionnimrod]

So like a lot of fun plot ideas, this came about through convos w @gooberfeesh.  This particular one came to us as we were laughing over how crazy fast Hermann types, mix with how skilled a programmer he is how OKAY YEAH he probably did some hacking in his day lets be real.

This also feels appropriate to finish and post with SDCC coming up, lmao (yay con exclusives).  Please enjoy Newt begging Hermann to hack a website for him!   <3 

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

Convention exclusives sucked.  Newt hated them.  Or, well, he wanted to hate them, but damnit, he LOVED them.  He was not ashamed to admit that when he lived over in America he had done some ridiculous things and spent a stupid amount of money to get some sort of con-exclusive toy or comic.  He was a collector, he lived for this kind of shit.  

Obtaining exclusive stuff was more difficult when you were on a completely different continent than the convention, though.  Even more so when you didn’t have the ability to hop on a plane and fuck off for a few days to go get it.  Newt didn’t think the PPDC would appreciate him disappearing from the Shatterdome and temporarily abandoning his work for (what they would dismissively consider) a toy.

Even IF said “toy” was a limited edition Trespasser and Knifehead statue bundle, intricately sculpted, both of them standing at 17 inches tall and basically perfect.  Newt might have drooled on his keyboard when he saw their prototype reveal.

He definitely cried a little when he saw the news that an insanely limited amount of them were going to be released to buy online.

The only problem was that it really was an insanely limited amount - a whopping 200 would be available for online purchase.  Newt knew from experience how stressful and unpredictable this kind of thing was.  They were likely to go quick, super quick, with high chances of the website crashing or checkout carts freezing.  If Newt wasn’t able to get one bought, he’d be devastated.  He had to hatch a plan, use his big and awesome brain to figure out a way to guarantee he wouldn’t lose this challenge.  They were bound to be options.

The morning they were to become available, Newt was up unnecessarily early.  It was a lot like how he used to be on Christmas Day - bouncing into the living room at 5am while his father was still sound asleep and his uncle wouldn’t be over for hours still.  He was too excited to keep sleeping.  Too nervous.  But!  He tried keeping his nerves at bay the best he could, because he had a PLAN.

An hour before the website was supposed to update, Newt eyed his lab partner carefully, watching him clack away at his computer.  Then, grinning, he wheeled his chair across the lab, sitting backwards in it with his arms draped across the back, only stopping when he slid and bumped into Hermann’s chair.  The man sighed.

“Can I help you, Newton?” he asked, glancing over at Newt, peering at him over the rim of his old man glasses.  Newt loved when he did this, loved the way it showed off his gorgeous, long eyelashes. Buuuuut he needed to focus.  He could dwell on his practically out of control, inappropriate secret crush on the other man later.

“Yes, actually, you sure can,” he grinned, leaning forward and resting his chin on the back of his chair.  “My awesome lab partner, intellectual colleague, all around good guy.”

Hermann regarded him, his dark eyes slowly slanting with each new compliment that came spilling out of Newt’s mouth.  It was a suspicious gaze, one Newt was no stranger to, but he kept grinning anyway.

“What do you want?” Hermann asked, his voice flat.

“Amazing that you should ask, dear Herms!” Newt exclaimed dramatically.  He could hear Hermann growl and open his mouth, no doubt to protest the nickname he despised so much, but Newt didn’t give him the breathing room to start that old argument.  “I was gonna see if you could do me the coolest, most awesome favor in the world and put your out-of-this-world hacker skills to the test for me.”

Hermann stared at him.  Newt leaned forward and rested his chin on his arm, waiting.  Hermann continued to stare.  Newt started bouncing his leg.

“I am not going to hack anything for you,” Hermann finally said.  

“Come oooooon,” Newt groaned.  “Please??”

“Whatever prank you want to pull, I’ll have no part of it.  Absolutely not.”  Hermann turned back towards his monitor.

“Oh!  No, dude, no prank!” Newt started to explain, straightening and nudging the other man’s chair until he looked over again.  “I don’t want you to hack someone.  I just … maybe want you to slightly hack into a website for me so I can buy something before it officially releases?”

Hermann’s eyebrows lifted in disbelief.  Disbelief turned to annoyance, which turned to exasperation, before going flat again.  It was quite the facial journey, really.  One that Newt would totally have appreciated if they weren't on a time crunch.  His leg kept bouncing.

“Absolutely not.”

“Hermaaaaaaaaann-”

“What in the world is so crucial that you would have me do something like this??”

“UGH here, I’ll show you.

Pushing closer and turning in his chair, Newt commandeered Hermann’s computer, ignoring the protest from his lab partner and the way he pushed at his shoulder, trying to get him out of his personal space.  Intent on convincing Hermann to help him, Newt pulled up a web browser and went to the site in question, navigating through until he found the page for the bundle.  Then, beaming, he turned back towards Hermann.

“That.”

“.... kaiju toys,” Hermann mumbled, staring.  “Of course it’s kaiju toys.  Dear lord.”

“Kaiju statues, and yes,” Newt corrected.  “Look at them!  The attention to detail is incredible, it’s the closest a company has ever gotten to accurately replicating their bone structure and skin tone.  And there’s only gonna be, like, 200 of them available.  It’s super limited.  And I super need it.  It’s not like I’m trying to steal one, dude, I’m gonna pay for it, I just … want to be able to pay for it before the plebeians and resellers of the world also have the ability to buy it.”

There was silence for a few moments.  Newt glanced at the clock on Hermann’s computer nervously.  He bounced his leg some more.  Hermann took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed, before putting them back on.

“I cannot believe you’re asking me to do something like this for you,” Hermann grumbled, shaking his head as he took his keyboard back into his possession.  He started typing, eyes on the screen, and Newt slowly started to grin, the previous anxiousness fading from his expression.  “Thinking that I should take my valuable time away from my breach prediction model to use PPDC-issued computer equipment, on a PPDC server - provided and funded by the United Nations - to illegally hack into a toy selling website so that you can purchase kaiju toys.”

Newt watched in amazement as Hermann worked, his slender fingers flying across the keyboards so fast it was almost inhuman.  How the man didn’t make a million typos, he would never understand.  He couldn’t keep the awe off his face, and for a moment he wondered how lovestruck he looked.  Thankfully Hermann was WAY preoccupied and Newt had time to compose himself.  That was a topic that didn’t need to see the light of day.

“I could have my credentials revoked,” Hermann continued, still huffing over the whole ordeal.  “Were I to get caught.”

“Yeah but you never get caught,” Newt sighed dreamily, watching the website coding on the screen, the back door that Hermann was slipping them in through to open up the cart just moments before the item went live.

“Indeed, which is lucky for us both I suppose,” Hermann replied, snorting.  Then, after a moment, he pushed his chair back, sliding away from his desk slightly.  “Here.  Make your purchase quickly, so I can close this.”

Newt was beaming as he slid in, plugging in the proper information and buying the combo.  Done and done.  It went through without a hitch, and moments later his phone was chiming with his email confirmation.  Oh my god, he’d gotten it.  He was gonna get those beautiful babies.  Unable to contain himself, he let out a whoop of joy as he moved back, letting Hermann come back in to close everything off and remove all trace that they were there.  Newt didn’t miss the soft, amused smile the man had on his face.  It made his heart skip.

Once he was done, Hermann removed his glasses again and turned to face Newt, arching an eyebrow.

“I believe this earns a week without you making some sarcastic remark about my wardrobe,” he said expectantly.

“Sure, no prob,” Newt agreed without even thinking about it.  Rolling in, he snatched Hermann’s hands, lifting them and blowing on the tips of his fingers.

“What are you-” Hermann practically screeched, moving to yank his hands back, his cheeks going slightly pink.

“Fastest guns in the Ol’ West,” Newt smirked.

“... Excuse me?” Hermann asked, his face still flush, clearly missing the reference.  Newt was too happy to care.

“Nothing, man,” he said, standing up and clapping a hand on Hermann’s shoulder.  “Thank you Hermann, seriously.  I owe you one.  Like, more than clothing comments.  I’ll buy you dinner the next free night we have, ‘kay?”

“Um … a-alright,” Hermann agreed softly, nodding.

“So, back to work!” Newt exclaimed, clapping and turning to walk off towards his side of the room.  He didn’t miss the way Hermann huffed again behind him.

“You could at least take your damn chair back with you…”

[gfdatingsim]

So…

@robinthegreenbird submitted:

I’ve played both routes ((haven’t perfected any yet lol)) and I just wanted to say, That this is easily one of my favorite games. Also I have a question what parts did you make? Once again I love this game so much!

rosie: thank you so much!! making the game was a lot of fun so i’m glad you’ve enjoyed it :)  my parts of the game were ford’s last two dates – mabel’s dinner date of dreams and sunset confessions. writing those two was super fun!! 

i knew i wanted a special mabel-ified date (as she is my favorite character) so i incorporated her into the dinner date i planned for the player and ford– with her extra bits of pizazz on top, of course. when i wrote the meteor shower part at the end, i was in a rough patch and wanted some love and that good good validation, so i let ford give it to me, lmao. as the second-last date of ford’s route, i wanted it to be special and sweet, with ford’s affection toward the player really evident and confirmed, in a way, so it wasn’t just longing glances and blushing for the entire route lmao. it was originally the mabel-match date, but sovo swapped the schedules around and i think it works even better!

the pool date was more of a challenge. the last date of the route, the team and i agreed it had to be more of a serious one– one for ford to feel comfortable opening up to the player about everything that’s happened to him, not just what he told them on the dinner date, yanno? all about weirdmageddon and that business. writing angst isn’t really my forte – so thank you phoe for helping me write that nonsense– but we needed it to be important and kinda heavy on ford’s end, with the end of the game almost relying on how the player reacted to his story. all the seriousness got to me though so the option to jump in the pool was my executive decision eyyy 

i also wrote the two between-y bits with mabel and dipper – pancakes and interrogations and the fine summer’s wedding! i wrote those just before the game came out, but since i was still in the middle of my college semester, it took me a bit longer… which is why poor sovo had to do a large chunk of the editing themselves, which i do apologize for;; but even with all the mad stress and load on their shoulders, they did a phenomenal job with everything they had to take on, and this project wouldn’t be the same– well, it wouldn’t even exist– without them!

i hope this answered your question, if not a bit wordy. i am a writer after all. thank you for playing! <3 

sovo: I worked on all the programming, a bunch of background art, the GUI, Stan’s driving sprites, playtesting, writing, editing, managing, you name it. As you can imagine, at times this project really stressed me out! 

The worst of it was probably the editing/rearranging/rewriting, which was a way bigger task than I anticipated. When we were organizing in Discord at the beginning of the project, we had so many writers that we split the whole game’s story up into nine pieces, one for each writer, and each with the same deadlines. At that point it was just the Ford and Stan events themselves– no in-between events with the kids, no transitions, no introduction or end. Writers handed in first drafts, then second drafts, and then those drafts went straight into editing. 

The idea was that Isa, Rosie, and I could do all the editing to bring about a more unified voice, since we essentially had nine voices in there, but in hindsight it was… not the best plan I could’ve gone with. Not asking the writers to polish their dates further meant that way more had to be done in the editing stage– plus we still had to write a remaining third of the game from scratch (transitions/intro/ending). When I think back to it I can still feel my dread from those times lol, because there was so much work to do and as the school year loomed, there were three– and then two– and then one– people available to do it. Isa (below) is right, the discord went dead for a long time after the writers handed in the last of their drafts about a month into the project. 

Also, almost everyone in the group was into Dream Daddy, so many of our writers followed DD’s suit and wrote mini-games into their dates (mini-games that I still don’t know how to implement). So I had to cut all those out and patch it over with writing. Then in some drafts there was still placeholder text left, like “[insert wall of text here],” which I had to figure out or just patch over with new writing. Then sometimes there was still wonky dialogue, or odd behavior, and I’d try and nudge Ford or whoever into character again. Then the introduction and ending were still partially done or just plain missing, so I grafted Rosie’s intro draft onto another intro draft and led it into Ford’s cryptid hunt event, and drafted an ending for the sim, and then Isa really fleshed it out after.

And while this wasn’t strictly necessary, I ended up rearranging Ford’s route just a tad. Ford’s route originally went cryptid -> ddamd -> dinner date -> pool -> baking, so the dinner date was originally Mabel’s matchmaking scheme– which Rosie pulled off super well! In fact, she pulled it off so well that something felt off to me about Ford’s route progression, because while each date stood fine alone, it’s like things peaked a little too soon. After a lot of puzzling over what exactly felt off, I finally switched it up to go baking -> dinner date -> pool instead, rewriting the context of the baking date so that it would fit in.

Honestly, I don’t think the three of us really know the extent of the work we did during editing, even now? Like, to add to the above, Rosie also altered/added stuff & wrote much-needed transitions across the game including the two in-between events with the kids, which I think really tied the game together by giving it a bit of non-dating-centric story! And Isa did a bunch of editing/rewriting all across the game, especially on Stan’s route. While they worked I got to settle into my drawing/programming/playtesting role, which was a whole other batch of tedium, but everything turned out great!

isa: *cracks knuckles* alright sooooo. to start off I was really in the deep of it all really early on, starting from the brainstorming stage! Like Sovo said, the base we started from was the dates- the chat came up with possible date scenarios for both characters and we voted on which ones we’d want to see in the game! Coincidentally, all the final dates that made it in were mostly proposed by me! But all the others we tried to incorporate somehow even if they weren’t top 5; for instance, a drive in movie was proposed but didn’t make it so it turned into watching a movie at home after the main boxing part of the date. I also arranged the date order before we started writing based on premise, and what was most believable for the progression + time to get to know Stan and have things get more intimate and hopefully natural feeling! The concept and writing for Stan’s final date was all mine! Although I had originally had it stop after the kiss in the diner to leave it open-ended with “you wanna get out of here?” so the player could decide whether they…. took a ride on the Stan O’ War or not lmao, but then Sovo encouraged me to make it more steamy ending which I’m forever grateful for mwuahah. Everything else about the date was a piece of cake honestly, I found it easy to write since I knew where I wanted Stan + player to be in terms of their relationship/flirt level. The hardest part was…. finding a way to cut the makeout short that would be in character! Which is why I used poor, poor Robbie as my plot convenience. Sorry m'dude.

I edited and fluffed the intro form what Sovo had and edited…. the whole game actually I think. In terms of fixing typos, grammar, adding little lines here and there, etc. both in Stan and Ford’s routes. A huge role was also communicating from Sovo to the other writers on what still needed to be done, organization, due dates, etc. So I was kind of like a manager/coordinator too. I also wrote transitions from one date to the next, like the nap reader takes in order to fit Stan’s boxing date cg in the game and wrote them cuddling Waddles as well as the first half or so of the final version intro to Stan’s final date (Sovo then took up the rest!). I wrote a couple general intros too but they didn’t make it in since Rosie did such a good job lol.After talking with Sovo and deciding it’d be okay to change Ford’s date order to feel like a more natural progression, I made changes accordingly to the intros and things that were now out of order within his dates, mostly the baking date since that was the main one affected along with the swimming date. I had fun writing for Ford on that one, I really like the small things with him, like having the idea that he can crack two eggs in one hand super easy.

The biggest thing for me was making sure everything was cohesive and in-character while editing the rest of Stan’s route. Each date was wonderful but with so many writers there were quite a few inconsistencies from one date to another, which is understandable since everyone just started writing on their own and didn’t know what others wrote until after. (And also I made some executive decisions on what I thought was and wasn’t out of character or what I thought didn’t fit with what we’ve seen in the source material or what would happen after the finale.) There were a lot of things that had to be removed as a result, which led to big gaps I had to fill and choices/possibilities I had to streamline. For instance, I completely rearranged and had to rewrite a lot of the movie part and the end of the date. Sometimes in the dates there were a lot of choices but none of them really had much of an impact on your approval rating in the game, which became more important later on, so I had to make bad choices worse and good choices better! So like for the films, the date ends differently depending on which film you pick, but if you’re doing well enough already and you pick an option that isn’t the best, you get an okay ending and aren’t completely out of luck lol (picking a horror film is neither the worst nor the best but if you have a high score already it’s more of an inconvenience than anything). Also, consistency was key. I had a unique challenge with Stan’s accent and how to write it in, so I’d find myself reading over his dialogue many times and keeping what felt natural and not forced to it wouldn’t be understood in context with other words lol. And simple things like punctuation- all the writers wrote things differently, so like TV vs tv vs t.v. etc or Stan O'War vs Stan-O-War, etc. That part’s more tedious than anything. OH, and I grabbed the voice clips from Gravity Falls as well as the sound effects for that version. It felt weird without an actual car horn to interrupt; I also found alternative tracks for the disco date until phoe pulled through! 

And then finally, I rewrote the general farewell at the end from the base that we there already, and embellished and added a bit more floof to Stan’s possible endings. For his bad ending I think if you got a low enough score that your dates got cut short, he’d be pretty cold because wow you just made him fix your car and you were kinda rude to him bye stranger. And if you got far enough that he set up the disco date for you but your score was low overall, he’d be kinda heartbroken but definitely wouldn’t let it show, he’s just be gruff and defensive. And if you did well, he’ll let his fondness show a bit more in his own way. You’re still only someone he just met, and he’s spent so long hiding that he’s still getting used to being himself so he won’t bear his entire heart just yet, but there’s definitely promise and he’s excited. I headcanon that he sends you weird trinkets in the mail and texts/video calls you pretty regularly until the Stan O'War II docks somewhere close and you two can visit and catch up.

This project was a lot of work….. it was pretty dead in some spaces, mostly after the writers finished their dates and it got passed on for the monstrous editing job lol. Some times I couldn’t stop editing, others I was slammed for weeks with classes and personal life, and Sovo was so kind and understanding! I really learned a lot about writing and am sad it’s over, but also. Not lol. I’m so amazed with how it turned out and I can’t believe the reception it’s gotten!!! ;u;