#can be read from both povs btw

[samijey]

what is the weight of a broken brother's blood when he has attacked my own?

[seleneprince]

Not me coming back from Tcoaal and realizing the potential parallels between the main characters and the akashi siblings (-takeomi).

TW: Dark themes ahead, including manipulation, gaslighting, dubious consent, incestuous behaviour, sexual innuendos and overall pure toxic energy. Beware.

Both of them being raised by a neglectful and bordeline abusive caretaker (takeomi didn't give a fuck about haruchiyo's wellbeing and he even saw senju as a way to gain more power for himself). Haruchiyo being forced to take care of Senju and act like her pseudo-parent most of the time when takeomi can't be bothered to do so. Both growing closer and very dependent of each other because they have no one else to turn to and takeomi prefers to let haruchiyo handle it. Senju seems to be the favourite, but Takeomi can't stand tears and has little to no patience, so he passes her off to Haruchiyo whenever she gets difficult. It's only when she's "behaving" that Takeomi pays attention to her.

It was Haruchiyo who kissed her scrapped knees and cuts when she hurt herself to "take the pain away". It was up to him to read her bedtime stories when she couldn't sleep, to wipe her nose when it was runny, to stay by her side when she was sick. Takeomi went out of his way to make young Haruchiyo raise Senju so he didn't have to himself. And while he loves his sister more than anything, he also resents her, because he's being forced to sacrifice his childhood for her. There are times, when he's alone with his thoughts, that he wishes she didn't exist. This causes him nightmares.

Imagine them having to share a room because they struggle with money (their parents are clearly nowhere in the picture), so takeomi makes them sleep in the same room for years to save space. Senju sneaking into Haru's bed when she's scared and he always lets her, with complaints and sighs, but they always end up asleep in each other's arms. It becomes their routine, specially when they know Takeomi wouldn't ever listen to their fears or worries, let alone try to reassure them.

"It's okay, Senju. We have each other. That's all we need", he's caressing her hair and she believes him.

Imagine them after the "plane incident", when Haru's mental state begins to deteriorate. As expected, Takeomi doesn't try to comfort him, inmediately blaming him once again, and Senju feels so terribly guilty she cries about it. She eventually confesses Haruchiyo the truth and his resentment grows out of the surface. Their once sweet bond slowly grows into something twisted and toxic, because now he hates her but he still loves her too and can't bring himself to stay apart too long. Senju is very wary of him now but still seeks his presence. He tries to push her away, hurting her in places where Takeomi can't see, only to heal her himself later and comforting her like he's not the one who did it. She doesn't dare to speak up, mainly because she feels she deserves it. Haru encourages those thoughts.

"You see what you made me do, sister? This is your fault. Why do you piss me off?"

"I have these scars because of you. I'm gonna have them forever. You shoud make up for it, don't you think?"

"C'mon here, you crybaby, I'll patch you up. I didn't mean to go that far, okay? Here, let me fix it"

When he's not being a jerk, he becomes that caring and loving older brother Senju knows and craves. Those short moments of peace and safety with him are the reason she doesn't cut off ties completely. She's holding unto the hope that her brother will change.

As time passes, he becomes more and more possessive. He isolates Senju to make sure she only has him to rely on, terrorizing her friends (specially the boys) and anyone that shows interest in her. In return, she's also possessive with him and hates when he hangs out with others because it feels like he's "abandoning her". She throws tantrums and is willing to fight back if it means getting him to pay attention to her. He relents most of the time, because he loves seeing her desperate for him and it reassures him that she'll never leave him. He still has outbursts of jealousy, tho.

"What the fuck were you doing talking to him? You really believed he'll love you, that he'll take you out on dates and that bullshit? Don't make me laugh, only I can love someone as wrecked as you"

"Nobody is gonna treat you better than me. Nobody is gonna know you like I do, ever. You don't need anyone else but me. Why would you want other boys when I'm right here?"

It's not hard for Haru to convince her that it's normal for siblings to cuddle and even shower together. She doesn't know anything else, she has no one to tell her it's wrong. When puberty hits him and he starts to experience certain needs, there's only one female he's close enough to imagine having that sort of intimacy with. In his mind, it makes perfect sense. Senju is the only girl in his life, he knows he can touch her without problem, and besides, she fucking owes him that. After everything he's put up with for her, all the sacrifices he did and the mistreatment he endured from Takeomi, it's only fair that Senju lets him have this, right? He believes he's entitled to her in every form and sense.

Senju doesn't think much when he sneaks his hands under her shirt to feel her up, or when he watches her get dressed in creepy silence, or when he makes her sit on his lap. After all, this is what siblings do all the time right? Haruchiyo is just being affectionate in his own way. She's only taken aback when he kisses her for the first time, but she quickly relaxes because "this is what siblings do. We're just practicing, dear sister". Besides, Haru is practically the only male she has contact with (Takeomi is mostly absent and Haru makes sure she doesn't talk to other boys), so when she reaches puberty, she begins to feel sexually attracted to him. Something he notices and enjoys greatly.

"C'mon, aren't you going to let your big bro' touch you? If I don't show you how it's done, how else are you gonna learn? Big brothers do this all the time, y'know? Who better to teach you these things than me?"

"What? You're feeling shy now? I used to change your diapers and bath you for years. I know every part of your body like it's my own. Now get closer, I wanna see you"

"You should be glad to have such a good brother to help you with this. I'm doing this out of my affection for you. Yeah? You like how I'm touching you? Let me hear you then."

Their feelings for each other are messy, twisted and so complex that not even they can fully untangle them. They love each other, that much they know. Haru wants to kill her often, they know it too. Senju wishes he didn't exist, they know that too. But in the end, they also know they need each other more than anything. Not like the air they breathe, more like the smoke of the cigarettes. It's slowly killing them from the inside, but they're addicted to it. They can't exist in a world without the other.

Eventually, his undying devotion for Mikey wins and he runs away, leaving Senju behind. She never forgives him. He never forgets her. Somehow he still manages to be present in her life, if only from afar, but his control has weakened and now Senju is finally free to make friends. To have her own life separated from him. And the more she sees the world without his influence, the more she realizes just how fucked up and how wrong everything he did was. He talks to other people and finds out that kind of behaviour it's, in fact, not normal in siblings. That it's actually considered unnatural and forbidden and so incredibly disgusting. She feels asshamed and embarrassed for it, her perception of Haruchiyo finally changes to realize how he manipulated her all this time. Senju decides it's for the best to cut off contact with him, trying desesperately to bury their sins.

But at this point, he's not letting her go. Ever. It doesn't matter how hard she tries to push him away, he only pulls her back harder. Because despite all the shit that's gone down between them, he still knows her better than anyone and they still have no one else that understands them the way each other do.

And so that's how their relationship goes on through the years, with hatred and regret and love interwined. She's not allowed to move on, but neither does he. They're on opposite sides of the war, but they'll still hold unto each other like their lives depend of it (because they do) with their bloody mouths and bruised knuckles from the brutal fights. Because this wreck of a relationship is all that they have left, as twisted and painful as it is.

They'll pretend there's nothing to it, carrying on with their respective lives away from the other, but eventually, there's always a moment when their hearts beat their brains and they fall into that sick, forbidden dance once again, forgetting about the world and their responsabilities and the tragic childhood they share.

"I told you, didn't I, little sis? Nobody will understand you like I do"

"You're mine to break and care for"

[underskz]

➪ ‘TIL NEXT TUESDAY

➪ mark lee x cisfem!reader ✩ w.c 8.5k — NSFW ✩ 18+ minors dni —

✰ NON-IDOL AU

pov: you're a camgirl with a secret admirer who's a little (okay maybe a lot) obsessed

note: y'all do not understand the pain,,, the struggle,,,, the trauma that this fic has inflicted upon me <//3 i quite literally started writing it last year on mark lees stupid lil bday and have been typing away at it for so mf long and have had to dig into the deepest filthiest depths of my brain to finally finish this,,,,, anyways welcome to my twisted mind and we can all blame mark lee my greatest enemy,,,, i hate u… anyways pls make note of the warnings !!! btw don’t ask me what website they’re using idk i couldn’t be fcked to think that hard

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, aka smut, obsessive behavior, viscerally lewd comments, uh lying LOL, wolf in sheep’s clothing energy (good church boy mark lee and his hidden demons <3), honestly both reader and mark r freaky (aww they match each others freaks!), readers thinly veiled shame kink, unsafe sex/no condom, barely any prep lol, not beta read bc im a full send girl (sorry for any typos etc LMAO)

There’s clearly something wrong with user ‘66golden_boy99’ and you can’t quite figure it out. Sure, he seems to be just another fan of your work. And maybe his comments tended to be on the imaginative side.

i wanna dick you down til next tuesday

stuff your guts this thursday and stay buried in you thru the weekend

til youre cryin to me about how you can feel my dick in your throat

how pretty would you cry for me?

That little voice in the back of your head whispers (the one that sounds far too much like Donghyuck), an annoying little I told you so, someone was bound to get obsessed. It wasn’t like you never considered or even feared the possibility. 

But these comments, this person, there was something there. You click into a different video, scrolling down to a specific cluster of comments.

i wanna ruin you so fuckin bad

ruin that pussy for anyone else

wanna hear you beg me to stop 

until it turns into begging me for more

sound fun sweetheart?

Every video, every clip, every single little teaser you post; there’s a thread from him. His stupid username right there, ‘66golden_boy99’ and a digital paper trail that ranges from being unforgivably horny to borderline demented and most of the time a combination of both. 

fuck if i could keep you in a little cage…

i’d fuck u every day all day

turn you into my perfect little pet

made just for my cock

don’t you want that too?

You can’t help but let your mouth gape at that one, a cage? Your head spins at the thought, trying (and failing) to not let your imagination wander.

There’s a certain thrill that crawls down your spine, twisting itself deep into your gut and lodging itself there. An ache that just you can’t quite itch yourself, barely sated by these comments. 

So yeah, there’s definitely something wrong with user ‘66golden_boy99’ but that could only mean there’s something wrong with you.

“Mark, read this! Isn’t it insane?” Donghyuck all but smacks him in the face with your phone.

“Oh! Um.” He immediately flushes, no doubt flustered by the nature of the comments along with the fact he’s one of your few friends who still gets a little red in the cheeks by your choice of profession. 

Good church boy Mark Lee at your service. Who thankfully plucks your phone from Donghyuck and passes it back to you— most likely to avoid further being subjected to such filth in broad daylight. 

“Don’t bust a tit Hyuck, it’s just some dude living out his freaky fantasy while hiding behind a screen.” You knew it was going to be brought up the moment you saw your friends, but you had hoped that Donghyuck would have the decency to not mention it while seated outside a popular cafe on a busy street.

Jokes on you for thinking he could keep his cool about this. The moment you had sent a screenshot to the group chat Donghyuck had been rearing for a fight, overly scandalized and always righteous whenever he thought his friends were being treated badly.

There was no way in hell you’d tell him those comments piqued your debased interest.

“It’s a little creepy.” Jungwoo settles on, stealing a blueberry off of your parfait. “He doesn’t message when you’re live though.”

“Nope, only comments on clips and videos.” You bite back your disappointment, maintaining an almost clinical tone.

“Does he even watch your streams?” Jungwoo questions as he attempts to swipe a strawberry this time, narrowly thwarted by you whacking his hand with your plastic spoon. 

“What difference does it make? He’s a fucking perv!” Donghyuck snipes.

The answer is yes, he does watch every single one of your streams. Occasionally donates too, yet no messages. No live interactions.

“Hyuck, my whole fanbase are pervs.” You ignore the glare of an elderly woman as she passes by your table. “When did you become such a prude?”

It’s enough of a jab to send the man into a fit, ranting and raving about how he’s perfectly freaky enough and that his boyfriend(s) is (are) so into how weird and kinky he could get. 

“Seriously though, is he scaring you?” Mark whispers, careful to not catch Donghyuck’s attention lest he starts laying into you about your “creepy” admirer again. Mark’s considerate like that.

For a moment you sit with the question, mindlessly spooning around your half eaten parfait. Were you scared? You knew full well you were bound to deal with the occasional creep when you decided to pursue camming as a full-time job after university. 

But you weren’t— aren’t scared, initially you had maybe been a bit unnerved. Yet you hadn’t shared the messages because you wanted your friends to “save” you or anything. More so because you were shocked by the sheer audacity and of course by what was being said.

If Donghyuck wasn’t so busy talking about getting spit roasted much to the horror of Jungwoo, he’d be pestering you for the answer too. And you would��ve lied, told him that you were a little nervous but nothing that’d keep you from carrying on as usual.

Instead you have Mark asking, no trace of judgment behind his thick rimmed glasses, just a curious glint with a healthy dash of concern for a friend.

“He’s not.” Is what ends up coming out. It’s simpler than the whole truth, cleaner as well. 

You couldn’t admit to one of your best friends that it sent a thrill down your spine, to have someone so obsessed they comment utter depravity on every post you make. That you’ve checked to make sure this mystery creep was watching your every stream. And that there’s nothing you’ve ever wanted more than to be craved so deeply, to be ached for, to be someone’s sole obsession. 

“If you do get freaked out or anything, uh understandably so, we’ll figure something out. I’ll beat him up?” Mark offers one of his dorky smiles, and despite his statement inspiring little hope — seriously Mark is way too sweet to ‘beat’ anyone up — you still appreciate the sentiment. Offering him a big spoonful of whipped cream and strawberries for his valiant statement.

“Hey! Why does Mark get fed and I have to fight for a crumb?” Jungwoo cries out only causing you to roll your eyes and spark even more outrage from him.

You're thankful that the rest of the outing goes on without another mention of a certain fan of yours. Though Mark seems to be shooting more indiscernible looks your way than usual, but that’s easy to chalk down as him just projecting his own anxieties onto you.

When you all start to bid farewell Donghyuck wastes a few minutes to preach about the dangers of internet strangers, while Jungwoo goads and teases him until his nagging is turned onto Jungwoo.

Again Mark offers comfort — though you really have no need for it, considering the fact you honestly are enjoying the debased behavior more than you maybe should — and you pretend to appreciate it.

needa fuck you over and over and over

til your pretty lil pussy is gaping open

so i can see the way i paint you up inside

wouldn’t you like that?

Yes, you dig your teeth into your bottom lip, fuck yes.

You had just posted a teaser for your next video, a simple reaction to some random threesome video your subscribers had begged you to watch. 

And as always without fail, only a few minutes after you’ve hit post your phone lights up with notifications from ‘66golden_boy99’. You should hate how much you look forward to it— how you’re practically gagging for it (him).

You remember his first thread of comments, remember the scandal that pumped through your veins as the words registered in your brain. 

The thrill.

well aren’t you a sweet thing

He had started it off so normally.

you look like you dont care for just any kind of fun

you look like u need to be fucked within an inch of your life

thrown around and violated like a stupid little toy

i could do that

It’s the only time he hadn’t ended with a question. The only statement needed to stake his claim, to solidify his place. 

It planted the seed right in your lust ridden mind, the growing need to see more and more. It becomes a sick little ritual, to go looking for his comments just after you tuck yourself into bed under the guise of resting for the day. 

You’re desperate enough to reread old ones, to stare at the same comments from days or even weeks ago. Sometimes he’ll throw you a bone, coming back to leave another thread of comments for you to find. 

wanna fill you up so bad

make you take it over and over and over

til my cum is dripping outta you for days

so that all that’s in your pretty head is the thought of my cock pumping you full

wanna make it happen?

Maybe it’s the way you’ve never replied to them, or even acknowledge them in a stream. It doesn’t deter him from continuing, his perverted dedication proving something to you. Something twisted and delicious and all too tempting.

need you so bad

just need to use you over and over and over and over so fuckin bad

turn you into my own pretty fleshlight to use whenever i please

just wanna use you all up baby

how much can you take?

Thursday streams are one of your three weekly streams, and while it had marginally less viewers therefore profit than your Friday and every other Saturday ones, it was by far your favorite.

The chat is far more relaxed, which means you have a better chance to interact with viewers, to have a more intimate stream.

It means you can instead sit at your desk, dressed in nothing but an oversized white tee, playing with your hair and batting your lashes. While making idle conversation as your viewers dutifully pay you compliments and donate small amounts as a hello.

66golden_boy99: hey there

“Oh? Golden boy? And here I was thinking you weren’t interested enough in having a live convo with me.” You wonder if he waited for this, a Thursday stream with an even lower than usual number of viewers to finally send his first message in chat. Was your little freak shy? Only able to sling his filth when nobody was paying attention?

Too late for that, he was in your sights now. 

66golden_boy99: nah just liked sitting here and watching you too much

“Is that so?” You feign distraction, looking off towards the side as you tap your chin thoughtfully. “But here I am, doing nothing. Isn’t that boring?”

There’s a flood of no’s in the chat, messages ranging from horny to sweet about how some like just chatting and others saying that you should at least take off your shirt.

“My shirt? It’s only been twenty-ish minutes since I’ve started and you all don’t wanna butter me up first? Tell me how pretty I am?” You’re accused of being a tease, which is of course your exact angle. Some of them bite, sending cooing comments about how they’d love to see your shirt off, some going as far as to send in a few dollars. 

$200 from 66golden_boy99

it’s okay sweetheart, show em what’ll be mine

Your jaw drops, because while he had tipped in the past, it was never this much. You can’t help the shiver that itches down your spine, ‘what’ll be mine’ he says, like he already has you in the bag.

“Aww you wanna see me that bad? Everyone say thank you to Golden Boy!” You goad, making a show of hooking your thumbs in the hem of your shirt. Slowly you drag the fabric across your flesh, inch by inch exposing how you truly had nothing under your flimsy excuse for clothing. 

66golden_boy99: and where’s your thank you?

“That’s right, you were so generous after all, I should give you a little treat to show my appreciation.” Again you flutter your lashes. “How do you want me?”

66golden_boy99: spreading your legs like a desperate slut

66golden_boy99: wanna see you fuck your fingers

66golden_boy99: cmon babe show off your perfect pussy and open yourself up for me

“Anything for you.” And maybe you’re a little fucked in the head for how much you mean it. 

You’ve never had a favorite before. Nobody in your chat, comments and so on have ever caught your attention. They’ve never bothered to be so interesting, to be so openly obsessed.

Slowly you let your hands wander, cupping your tits before letting your fingertips dance along your ribcage, inching down, down, down. 

You pathetically think of him, wonder who’s on the other side of the screen. It could be some old man, or some greasy incel, maybe it’s someone you’ve met on the street. It could be anyone, and it sickens you almost as much as it excites you.

Carefully, you plant your feet on the edge of your desk, sliding down a few inches in your chair as you spread nice and wide for the camera. 

“This what you want?” The words jumble in your mouth as your fingers continue to  find their way south. You dig your nails into your thighs, moaning loudly at the bite of them into your tender skin.

Shame was something that had long escaped you in this field of work, only the tastefully faked sense of it ever gracing you these days. But there’s that all too familiar burn crawling back into your chest after almost years of nothing. Scorching away at your insides as your fingers drag along your waiting pussy. 

You’re wet, you’re wet and it’s because of some fucking freak on the internet. Your eyes zero in on the chat, hoping to catch a comment from him.

66golden_boy99: fucking perfect for me always so good

It’s all you need to keep going, to let wanton moans tumble out left and right as your back arches into your own touch.

The sense of shame doesn’t diminish, doesn’t fade as you tease your clit and pump your fingers pitifully into your sopping cunt, loudly bemoaning the fact you didn’t grab a toy. 

66golden_boy99: you’ll cum just like this baby, no toys, just your fingers and wishing it was me instead

“Nnn- please.” It’s whiner than you’ve ever heard yourself, because goddammit you are wishing it was him. Old man be damned he had a wicked way of speaking, of sneaking into the dark recesses of your mind and ripping you open. Exposing a side of you that you’d long since buried, a side of you craving to be devoured wholly.

Pleasure snakes through your body, dropping down into your belly as you cum with a whimper. You make a show of bringing your fingers to your lips, tongue flicking out to taste yourself, that sick part of you hoping it makes him want you more. 

You slump against your chair, mindlessly answering chats as you fix yourself into a more comfortable position. You don’t bother looking for your shirt, letting your viewers enjoy watching your chest rise and fall in panting breaths, admire the way the sweat gleams on your skin.

You hope his eyes are glued to his screen. You hope you’re driving him absolutely insane.

“I fear I might be tapped out for the night, but don’t worry there’s always Sunday.” You manage to get out a real sentence, your brain still a little mushy from the post-orgasm haze. “Sweet dreams everyone!” 

You take a moment to let the chat fill with well wishes, a few more donations and scan for a message from one user in particular.  

66golden_boy99: good night sweet thing, dream of me

And oh, you just might. 

Ending streams were nothing special, just a click of a button and your privacy was all yours again. Leaving you with a plethora of thoughts, a tiny remnant of that formerly elusive shame and a craving for something or more accurately someone. 

Send a friend request to 66golden_boy99?

What did you have to lose? What did you have to gain? 

There’s a little angel on your shoulder in the shape of Donghyuck, your ever annoying moral compass, telling you to go shower and to never feed into this anonymous man’s delusions again.

While the little devil on your shoulder shaped like Yuta does nothing, sits there and smirks at you knowing full well you’ll choose his route. 

You always do. 

Sorry Hyuck.

Friend request sent!

Three days go by, no comments, no messages on stream, nothing. Absolute silence.

You can’t help yourself but watch each excruciating second tick by, waiting for something, anything from him. Three whole days of obsessively checking your phone, every social media tied to your occupation and nothing.

It’s like he up and fucking forgot about you. And maybe three days seems too short of a timeline to be losing it, but this is a man who has been all over your account — and notifications — for months.

And he gets scared off by a friend request. 

God, you should’ve known better than to trust Yuta, even if he was just a figment of your imagination at that moment. Though the real Yuta would’ve said the same thing anyway, therefore still making this whole ordeal his fault.

But as fun as blaming your friend and obsessing over whether your twisted little admirer would accept your request, let alone give you something to work with nowadays. It was driving you up the fucking wall. 

You need a distraction, and you need it badly.

Your usual and immediate reaction to having nothing to do and needing attention would be to ask Donghyuck to go out and do something stupid, but the lucky bastard was on vacation with his boyfriend(s?) probably getting fucked into the new year.

So you’re left to consider your options but Jungwoo is definitely still at work and Yuta just left to visit his family. And your other friends lived too far.

That only left you with Mark. God, you need more friends in close proximity. Not because you don’t like Mark, you adore the man if anything and still consider him one of your best friends. It's just that despite all the years of friendship the two of you just haven’t figured out how to quite mesh conversationally like the others. 

You need more spark, conviction. Mark Lee talks like a wet noodle came to life and decided to use ‘yo’, ‘dude’ and ‘woah’ on a permanent rotation. 

At least he’s a great listener.

And since he’s one of your closest friends nonetheless, he would have no problem with you coming over to eat his snacks and lounge on his couch while he works from home. 

So you shoot him a text.

TO: marky markmarkly sparkly can i cum over ;P 

FROM: marky markHaha sure dude! I told you stop spelling it like that > < 

TO: marky markprude be there in 10 want coffee ?

FROM: marky markSure! Caramel latte please :3 

He even texts like a good and innocent church boy. But he’s definitely had girlfriends, and that one boyfriend, so there’s no way he’s a virgin. Is it possible to be a blushing virgin in spirit and at heart?

“Hey beautiful, what can I get ya?” The barista’s stare is nothing short of sleazy, not even bothering to make eye contact as he tries to magically see through your clothing. 

“I’ll take a caramel latte, lemme double check what my boyfriend wanted, hmm just a regular coffee.” And okay it’s a little demeaning to Mark to switch your coffee orders in front of this greaseball. 

The boyfriend comment works well enough, if you take the guy opting to just stare at your ass as you walk out the door instead of bullying you for your number a win.

Thankfully Mark's apartment is just around the corner, and somehow you manage to key in the code not once but twice despite carrying two drinks.

“Marky! Coffee!” Immediately he comes tumbling down the hallway, eyes wide with confusion. His hair is sticking up in different directions, his glasses crooked and half-hanging off his face. His sweat stained white tee, and low hanging gray sweats only the cherry atop the homebody trainwreck sundae of a man before you.

“Hey, yo, shit! Uh dude!” He stops a few steps in front of you, scratching his head sheepishly. “I thought…you would take longer.”

“Do I look like Jungwoo? Or worse, Yuta?” You feign offense with a dramatic gasp. 

“Nah! Ha…ha, um come on in, it’s a fuckin’ mess but like you know, ‘m swamped with work and…”

You hand him his latte and push past him, barely batting an eye at the nightmarish state of his apartment. There’s mountains of paperwork and books stacked along the walls, empty food boxes, bags and wrappers scattered across the floor (along with any other available surface) and you’re trying desperately to not gag at the state of his kitchen.

“Johnny would clean?” You muse as you kick aside an empty pasta box. 

“Johnny would clean.” He sighs. Johnny, being Mark’s roommate, along with (one of) Donghyuck’s boyfriend(s???) is currently on vacation. On top of that, from what you've heard, he’s barely been at the apartment at all the past few months. Definitely too busy catering to every single one of Hyuck’s whims and dramatics.

“I could help?”

“Woah! I couldn’t ask you that, I made this mess on my own. I’ll clean it er.. eventually.” He gestures loosely.

“Mark Lee.” You muster up your best deadpan tone. “I’m so bored I’m gonna chew my own hand off, please let me help you clean your awfully disgusting apartment.” 

“That bad?” He snorts.

“I think that pile of dust moved on it’s own.” At least you’re hoping it’s a pile of dust and not some undiscovered rodent that thrives in the apartments of bachelors with piss poor cleaning habits.

“…I think you’re right. Hey um, lemme just shower and change, I think I’m just as gross as this place. We can clean together. So just…” He shoves aside the pile of laundry inhabiting the couch just enough to give you a place to sit. “Sit for a second?”

The poor guy looks like he’s on the brink of a meltdown, and if you didn’t know Mark as well as you do you would’ve called an ambulance. But he just always has that air around him, exhausted and overworked— but always smiling through it.

“I’m in no rush.” You pat his arm before taking a seat in the space he so generously carved out for you. The second Mark walks off to the bathroom you make yourself nice and comfortable, switching on the TV, straightening out some of the magazines and assorted papers on the coffee table. 

Mindlessly you even start folding some of the laundry next to you. The thought of taking pictures and sending them to Donghyuck so he could show Johnny just how far his roomie has fallen in his absence promptly interrupts your side task.

But to your dismay you find your phone is barely holding on by a few measly percentages. Looking around the living room you know there’s definitely no hope in trying to find a charger on your own. So instead you head off towards the bathroom, following the sound of the shower pouring down.

“Mark!” You knock harshly, hoping he can hear you okay. 

“Yeah?” His voice comes through clear, sounding only a little startled by your sudden presence.  

“Need to charge my phone!” 

There’s a moment of pause and you can only assume it’s because his room is so hellish he can’t even remember where he put the thing.

“By my bed!”

“Thanks!”

His room is actually better than the living room and kitchen, not by much, but still better. You navigate around the clothes and books strewn about the floor. Giggling at his wastebasket full of balled up tissues and a used up bottle of lotion, you definitely couldn’t wait to tell Donghyuck when he gets back. 

Making fun of Mark was an art, a beloved pastime of your friend group. And he always took it like a champ.

You plop down on his unmade bed, looking around for his charger. It’s half under the bed when you spot it, tugging the cord only for there to be a bit of resistance. Carefully you lower yourself to the floor, yanking at the charger and forcing Mark’s IPad to come flying at you.

“Shit!” It lands next to you face down on the hardwood and you pray to whatever gods that you haven’t cracked it. Slowly you pick it up, carefully flipping it over as you prepare yourself for the damage.

“Oh, my god.”

Because it’s not cracked, it’s not even locked, it’s still open to what Mark had been watching last to be exact.

One of your streams, one of your streams with you bent over one of your pillows, both holes stuffed with toys in the perfect position for the camera to see everything. It’s not even a new video, you haven’t done anything like that in months. 

There’s a blur in your vision as you shoot up, lightheaded from standing up straight so suddenly. A scorching heat begins to burn in your gut, creeping through your veins. 

You can still hear the shower going, and you know it must be wrong, to go through his private device like this but…it’s you. He’s been watching you, one of your most bible-thumping, prude-built friends who can barely look you in the eyes and blushes whenever you or your friends make dirty jokes, has been watching your debaucherous streams and has never said a word. 

Sure, Yuta and Jungwoo have confessed to watching more than once and Donghyuck is a fucking mod for your streams. It never bothered you if your friends watched, it wouldn’t bother you now.

But this is…this is different. He kept his viewership a secret, and you weren’t sure what to make of it. Was he too embarrassed to say? Was he afraid it’d ruin your friendship?

You close out the video, looking through his watch history which consists solely of your videos, looking at who he follows — you, only you, and you can’t tell if that’s a good thing yet — and now the used tissues in his trash bin don’t feel so funny anymore. 

“Oh.” You mutter lamely as you open up his comment history. Fucking oh. 

66golden_boy99: wanna fuck you with my tongue til youre squirting all over my face

And your world collapses, punctuated by the sound of the shower turning off— yet that’s lost on your ears. You can’t hear anything but the furious pound of your heart trying to dismantle your ribcage, your blood rushing through your veins and sloshing around your head. 

Mark Lee, sweet, kind and innocent. Mark Lee, who stutters just talking about who he likes. Mark Lee, the resident saint of the group.

Is him. 

The man who’s been peddling filth into your mind, who’s been haunting you every time you decide to start your stream or post a video, skulking around every comment section with your name on it. 

Is Mark fucking Lee.

“Heya! Did ya find…it.” It’s cinematic honestly, the way his stride slows as his eyes frantically flicker back and forth between you and the IPad. “Y-Y-You!”

It’s instantaneous, his face turning a brilliant crimson as he trips over himself to grab the tablet and throw it haphazardly to the side.

His chest is heaving, panic creasing his features as you look him over. He kept the same color scheme, you think emptily, white tank top and gray basketball shorts. It does nothing for your brain as you stare at him mouth agape.

“I c-can explain?” He has the audacity to squeak, to look ashamed even. He’s trying to hide behind his bangs as they fall over his eyes, trying to look so innocent despite his filthy secret coming to light.  

“Why didn’t you accept my friend request?” It’s probably not what you should open with, and Mark’s jaw simply hanging open at the question might be a testament to that.

“…What?” His croaks, voice hoarse.

“You didn’t accept it, why? And where have you been, it’s been three whole days? I’ve been fucking waiting for—”

“You’re not mad?” His voice is still uneven, and even a pitch higher. 

“Mad? Mad? I’m pissed, you, you idiot!” And you are. Probably. Your mind so fucked from trying to comprehend this newfound piece of info you don’t even know where to begin with how you’re feeling. So mad must be the best place to start. 

“For months I’ve been wondering who had the fucking balls to send these freaky borderline insane comments.” He flinches. “Wondering just who the hell was making me feel like, like…that.”

“I—”

“And it was you! Right under my nose, looking at me with those stupid round eyes and big glasses a-and you just pretended like you knew nothing? …I got off to you on stream?” You hate the way your voice sounds so high in your ears, teetering on the edge of full blown shrieking.

“Please, I’m sor…”

“When Hyuck showed those comments were you even ashamed?” You hiss.

He’s blubbering now, eyes pinned somewhere to the ground; half cooked sentences or maybe excuses scattering about the floor with the rest of his mess. It’s all lost on your ears, a million different thoughts in your head drowning it all out. 

His hands raise as if admitting defeat, even beginning to back away in a pitiful attempt at escaping but like hell you’ll let the fool get away from you now. 

“Goddammit, Mark Lee, look at me!” And he does, his mouth snapping shut and eyes focusing on you. His stupid glasses are nowhere to be seen, giving you an unfiltered front row view of how his pupils are blown wide. “Did you mean it?” 

“Mean…what?” You could kill him, you really could because how after all these months of sending you towards the edge with the crudest, filthiest words he can barely say a proper sentence standing before you.

“Any of it! All of it, was it all just talk?” You must’ve hit a nerve. He’s silent again, eyes narrowing for a moment at the accusation. But it slips away, a fickle persona he shoves down. 

His hands lower to his sides.

“...What do you want?” His voice is more even, eyebrows knitting together. 

You know what he’s asking — he was obvious like that, his heart always worn so proudly on his sleeve — because even now with his disgusting secret out in the open between the two of you. He has the audacity to try to take the gentlemanly route of getting you to explicitly state what you want from him, if you want him. 

When all you’ve been waiting for was for him to take.

“What do I want, huh? Let me tell you what I think first.” You know this will definitely make or break what happens next, and maybe even your friendship. But you’re sick of his games, of dancing around whatever the hell was going on between the two of you. “I think you’re all bark and no fucking bite, I think you hide behind a screen because you’re a coward and you probably couldn’t fuck your way out of a wet paper bag.”

His eyes narrow once more.

“You hide behind your good little god fearing boy next door persona when you’re a freak who likes watching one of his best friends get off on camera!” 

He takes a step closer.

“I think you’re filthy and depraved, a repressed weirdo with disgusting kinks. A borderline incel!”

And another step.

“I bet the second you actually got inside of me you’d cum and cry yourself to sleep in a matter of seconds.” His expression darkens at that, and now you’re starting to think that you should stop. 

But where’s the fun in that?

“You couldn’t handle even half the shit you said online, you cowardly little prude, you tiny dicked—”

You don’t realize his hands are on you until you're backed against the wall, one tightly gripping your hip while the other lands on your chest keeping you firmly in place.

“You never shut up. Even in your streams and videos you're constantly yammering on, whimpering and whining and begging.” His voice is low, buzzing around your ears and in your head. You look down at the tent forming in his shorts, mouth drying and watering simultaneously.  

“That for me?” Your tongue feels thick as you look up at him through your lashes.

The hand on your chest inches up, until his palm settles against your throat and you're left wondering if he’ll indulge you by tightening his fingers. Even just a little.

“Even now, can’t shut the fuck up.” He moves in closer, until his hardened cock is against your thigh and he’s forcing his knee between yours. “I asked what you wanted, not for you to insult me.”

“You-”

“So I’ll tell you what I want.” And you feel so wildly out of your depth, there’s a cognitive dissonance you can’t quite escape. Good church boy Mark means wholesome activities, ice cream in the park, farmer’s markets and, and–  

“And then you’re gonna try again for me.” 

“M-Me?” It comes out lamely. Is this really Mark Lee? You think belatedly. Looking at you like he wants to tear you apart inch by inch with nothing but his teeth and tongue.

“I want you on my tongue, on my cock, want you begging for me to stop but it’s all just a filthy fucking lie. I want you to want me to ruin you, this, us.” His voice is raspier, laced with a desperation and craving you’ve never heard before and damn do you need to hear more, so much more.

“So try again. Tell me what you want.” And you can see it, that plea in his eyes for you to just say it. To know you want this as badly as he does, the promise, the threat of him finally letting go looming over the two of you.

“Want.” You grab him by the face, pressing your nose against his and staring into the black depths of his pupils. “Want good boy Mark Lee to die right before my eyes, wan’ you to eat me ‘til nothin’ is left.”

It’s slurred, you’re delirious, so drunk off the way he’s already hard off of you screaming at him (or maybe it was getting caught), at the way he’s demanding you to express your want for him when you’d rather just be on your knees.

But the thing is you always have wanted, craved. That underlying itch to see one of your best friends let loose, the borderline wanting (what you thought was) a random stranger to break into your apartment and do filthy, unmentionable things to you. When you flipped over that IPad thinking you broke it to find yourself being the object of his debauched desire, when you saw his username on the site. 

You ached.

It’s stupid and toeing the line of embarrassing with how badly you want, no, need him, how turned on by the fact he doesn’t even know which person to be in front of you. Doesn’t quite know how to be both.

“Let him die.” Is all he can say, having the audacity to take advantage of your stupor to kiss you. To push you back up against the wall and slot his lips against yours, pulling back just to dive back in before you could truly feel his absence. Over and over each one messier, hotter than the last as a debaucherous hunger flows between the two of you.

“You don’t get it.” He mumbles, pressing himself firmly against you, sweat starting to prickle against your skin. “When y-you started camming I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

And suddenly you could see it, vividly. Just behind your eyelids was Mark hunched over in his bed, one of your streams or videos playing in the background as he furiously chased his release. Only to be left wallowing in the shame of jerking it with cheap lotion to you, forced to clean himself off with even cheaper tissues and spending the rest of his night completely alone.

“Your perfect fucking pussy, for everyone to see…when I’ve been waiting.” He rasps, hands finding their way back onto your body. “Couldn’t stand it, couldn’t fuckin’ stand it.”

“Mm, Ma-ark…” Without hesitation he twists his head, allowing himself to sink his teeth at the base of your throat. Pulling away to focus another dark look at you, that heady mixture of unmitigated want and wicked promises swirling in his eyes.

“S’All I could think about, even with our friends.” He noses along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe as his breathing turns ragged. “Wanted to haul you onto the table and fuck you ‘til your head went dumb, ‘til all was left was you squealing like a fuckin’ whore while they all watched.”

There’s a cartoon halo of stars around your head, surely there is, each word from his mouth adding another to the ditzy constellation circling your brain. This is him, this is Mark ‘Golden Boy’ Lee and his once hidden (and so deliciously unhinged) silver tongue. 

“Pl-Please, oh fu— please.” His lips are back to working against your throat, and just as you try to reach up and grab at him, to try and sway him into relieving some of the tension building in the air. 

He steps back, yanking at your arm.

Yet he doesn’t give you a chance to simply fall, or even react. Instead he uses your off-kilter balance to push you onto your knees, thankful that he’s a sloppy loser when you land on a pile of clothes.

“This.” He doesn’t bother being shy about tugging his shorts and boxers off in one fluid motion. “This is how I want you.”

He pauses, as if to let you admire the view and you’re not nearly above doing so as your eyes roam so shamelessly. 

Of course he’s cut, with neatly trimmed hair adorning his groin. And though he's just above average in length, he definitely makes up in girth. You think hazily that calling him tiny dicked was definitely a lie.

Your mouth waters.

He lets out a low chuckle of all things, surely laughing at the way your eyes have widened. And maybe you did let your tongue swipe over your lips in anticipation.

“Go ahead, before I make it hurt.” His words are delayed, understanding creeping in slowly; impaired by having long let that fog of desperation cloud your mind. 

You move before you can think, nosing along the side of his cock, pressing a kiss to a cute little mole that you hope to revisit at a later date. But for now you’re flattening your tongue against the base of his shaft and dragging it up his length at a frustrating rate.

He’s heavy on your tongue, thick and heavy and so so hot, and fuck he tastes good or maybe you’re just already addicted. Doomed from the start. 

There’s a war raging in your mind, whether to try your hardest to please him with your mouth, all too tempted to hear the pretty, desperate sounds he’ll make and maybe it’ll earn you a bit of praise. Or to tease until he’s pissed off enough to throw any regard for you and your (throat’s) wellbeing out the window.

The latter is far more appealing.

Coyly you look up at him again through your lashes once more, bringing your tongue to tease at the tip of his cock, licking off a bead of precum forming.

“Are you tryin’ to blow me or piss me off?” Ah, so he has you all figured out.

“Haven’t decided.” You reply properly by taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before sinking further down and ignoring the slightly uncomfortable stretch of your lips. You could get used to this.

Languidly you try to mind your teeth as you sink further down, your jaw aching at the unprecedented stretch. Shallowly you bob your head, barely giving anything as you look up to meet his burning gaze.

“Enough.” He groans, clearly sick of the teasing as his hand comes around to hook his fingers around the back of your head.  

It’s enough of a warning as your hands come up to grip at his bare thighs, whimpering at the first tentative thrust. Unable to escape, knees aching and you can’t help but wonder how damp your panties will be by the time you get them off.

He’s careful at first, not to be too rough in his movements, trying to be considerate of your comfort. It’s ridiculous, and you let him know as much by stabbing your nails into his thighs only forcing him to accidentally bottom out. 

Tears well in your eyes as you choke, gagging around the sinfully thick intrusion into your throat.

“Woah! Fuck, I’m sor-”

He starts to pull away, and desperately you chase after him. But the fucker pulls out, grabbing you by the cheeks to look you in the eyes. 

“Do I have to start calling you names again?” Your voice is already wrecked, but not nearly enough, it could be worse, so much worse. If he would just fully let go. “Or are you just scared?”

He blinks at you, once, twice, those stupidly big eyes of his narrowing into something dangerous. 

“Two taps if it’s too much.”

“It won’t be.” You barely finish the sentence as he grabs you on either side of your head with both hands, pressing the leaking head of his cock against the seam of your lips, precum smearing across. You barely open your mouth before he’s shoving his entire cock down your throat again. 

You can see him, blurred by the tears stuck to your lashes, watching you with such reverence as you pitifully try to relax, still unable to avoid gagging and choking. Yet this time he offers no reprieve, keeps you firmly in place as tears stream down your face and your nails continue to dig into his thighs.

“T-That’s it, choke.” The break in his voice sends something hot through your chest, snaking through the rest of your body and creeping into your veins. How embarrassed would you really be if you came just from having your throat fucked? 

“Where are you?” Your wandering thoughts immediately cease, drawn back in by his fingers dancing along your cheekbone before settling at the back of your head.

He doesn’t even have the decency to let you catch your breath after pulling your attention, shallow thrusts turning reckless as he fucks your face with little regard for you— it’s everything you’ve every wanted from him.

It sends another surge of heat down into your belly, pooling between your thighs and now you’re wondering if your poor panties will even be salvageable after this. 

“Fuck that’s it, so fuckin’ good for me.” He bites his lip, and a part of you wishes you could be tugging on it too with your teeth. 

Use me, use me, use me. The thought fills your mind, leaving room for nothing else but Mark and his cock and your jaw and throat struggling to keep up. 

Frantically you tap on his calf, his response instantaneous.

“You good?” He pulls out again, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip to wipe away a mess of spit and precum.

“Need you,” and you could care less how your voice shakes and rasps, “need you in me so bad. Fuck me.” 

Your fingers dig into his thighs as you muster up the best pitiful look possible, silently begging for more. 

“C-Condom, need, condom.” He huffs, looking around his room frantically.

“Like hell, what happened to painting my insides huh?” Shakily you stand up, managing to push him towards the bed which he doesn’t even bother resisting. “Thought you wanted your cum dripping from my pussy for days.”

And he fucking growls, the sound so wildly animalistic you can barely believe it came from him.

“That what you want? You wanna feel me for days?” You’re on your back in a matter of seconds, his forearms landing on either side of your head to cage you in. He’s staring you down with an uncharacteristic intensity; a predator sizing up his prey.

“Ruin me for anybody else.” It comes out broken, desperation seeping from each word. How much more do you need to bend before he finally breaks?

He’s back on you, a barrage of teeth and tongue assaulting your flesh as his hands leave no part of you untouched, kneading and feeling. Just as you try to bring your own shirt over your head he pushes away your hands, allowing him to take over stripping you bare. 

Each caress of his fingers leaves a trail of fire, almost too hot to bear.  

“Please Marky, please.” It comes out high and whiny and so very needy. “Touch me more.” 

“I’ll give you what you want, just lemme…fuck lemme look at you.” He catches your wrists just as you try to bring your hands up to cover your face, pinning your arms against your sides as his eye shamelessly trace over your figure. There’s a glint of something hungry, swirled with something akin to adoration.

“Y-You like m-me, you’re obsessed.” You

“Yeah, I really fucking am.” He’s grinning, all teeth with a hint of gums that makes your heart somehow pound even harder and you know you’re well and truly fucked. “Like you s’much gonna keep you on my cock forever.” 

He lets go of your hands, grabbing at your thighs to spread them apart, callused fingers dragging up until he’s almost carelessly pressing a finger into you.

“Fuck, you can… o-oh keep me!” You whimper as he bullies one, then two more fingers into your throbbing cunt— there’s a determination bordering on desperation creasing his brow in order to prep you as quickly as possible. 

“Next time, I’ll spend fuckin’ hours doin’ this.” You whine as he drags his fingers out of you.

His hands hook under your thighs, pressing up and up until he can hook your legs over his shoulders and he’s pressing the blunt head of his cock against your hole. There’s a slight sting as he pushes in, the stretch unfamiliar and despite how wet you are some lube would’ve helped. 

But you well and truly could care less.

“I don’t care who sees this, you, I’m the only one who gets to touch, the only one who gets to fuck you like this.” He rasps, bottoming out in one harsh thrust and punching the air out of your lungs.

He’s kind enough to let you catch your breath, indulging you with a few soft kisses along your jaw and nipping at your bottom lip. But it doesn’t last long, following a sloppy kiss with a tentative grind of his hips, then a soft thrust. 

Those desperate whines you usually play up for your streams easily escaping your lips as he builds a steady rhythm. 

“Yes, yes, yes, Mark.” It’s perfect, every single thrust is perfect, the way you're folded in half, the feeling of his fingers digging into you, the strain of toned muscles under flushed skin; so fucking perfect. “Only you.”

And you mean it, fully, wholeheartedly without any hesitation. Only Mark, if that’s what he wants then you want it too, whatever Mark wants he can have.

“M’Close, fuck, I’m so close.” You whimper, raking your fingers through his still damp hair.

“Already?” It spears through your chest, harsh and burning and tears down your belly. 

There’s a split second of perfect silence interrupting the sound of skin slapping against skin, a ringing in your ears followed by the crash of your heart into your ribcage. 

Pleasure slices down your spine, rippling through your body in crashing waves and leaving your head spinning.

He fucks you through the high, any chance of a coherent thought spilling right out of your ears, his name garbled and strained as it forces it’s way past your lips. 

He slows, as if he’s about to waste both your time and do something stupid like pull out and finish on your stomach. And like hell you’re letting that happen, grabbing at his head with both hands and smashing your lips together, pulling away just enough to stare into blown pupils.

“Cum inside me, you bitch!” His teeth come down on your bottom lip, the bite of iron and tang of sweat and spit swirling together on your tongue dizzying, intoxicating. He slams back into you with a force you didn’t know he had, swallowing down a broken moan from his lips as he spills into you. 

“I’m still gonna stream.”  The two of you have settled on his now made bed, tucked under the covers. You had no problem letting Mark dress you in a clean tee and boxers, watching sleepily from his desk chair as he made his bed before depositing you in it.

“I’ll still watch.” He hums. 

“And comment?” It brings up the matter from earlier, the one you never got an answer to. “Why didn’t you?”

“I…I didn’t know what to do. Uh, it was one thing, hiding, but then I thought you…didn’t…”

“Didn’t?” You raise your head, trying to level your gaze to his. 

“Didn’t like m- it, the comments, those messages in chat, all of it. Thought you were just tryin’ to message me to stop. And then I got scared you somehow knew it was…me.” He has that sheepish look smearing his features, a hand coming up to scratch at his nape. 

You stare at him silently, watching as his eyes bounce around your face searching for some hint of what you could possibly be thinking.

“Look where that got us, I can’t even feel my legs, oh my god you have to fuck me on stream, please!”

“H-Huh? Live? Yo I can’t just-”

“Think about it, Marky.” Aching hips and sore muscles be damned, you somehow manage to climb into his lap and straddle his thighs. “Fucking me, on camera, for everyone to see just what you do to me. I’d be so good for you.”

You can see it, what little resolve he had starting to crumble, just a little more.

“Don’t you want that?” It’s his words and he knows it, starting to see the monster he’s created. You run your fingers along his jaw, settling one hand on his shoulder while the other comes up to muss up fluffy brown locks. “Stretching me on your fat cock for my pitiful little viewers to see, wishing it was them driving me insane.”

“Baby…” The pet name from his lips is instantly addicting, and you need so much more of it.

“Please.” And now you’re not sure what you’re begging for, your body screams for you to stop, to not roll your hips against his because it’s far too soon to be fucked into the mattress again.

“If, if you don’t stop doing that.” He groans. “You’re not gonna be able to stream tomorrow.” 

You blink. 

“Wow you really are my biggest fan.”

“Huh?”

“Got my schedule memorized and everything, does that mean we could do it tomorrow? You’ll fuck me on stream tomorrow?”

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Seriously I–”

“Actually, cancel it.” He’s hooking his hands under your thighs, drawing you closer. “Don’t look at me like that, I said cancel it.”  

“Mm, I don’t know if I can go again yet.” But there’s no conviction behind your words.

“You’re fine, I’ll do all the work.” You’re fine he says, it sends a thrill up your spine right into your brain, reworking the entire chemistry in there. It had been there in the back of your mind, slipping in somewhere between finding out his secret and that first kiss. 

You’re absolutely hooked, simply addicted, to Mark Lee. 

“Okay.” You grin at him.

[softfem-dom]

look at me, I'm sandra dee the outsiders headcanons

synopsis :

what would happen if Ponyboy Curtis had a twin sister? with her curling iron, checkered dresses, baking recipes and nail polish.. how would the gang deal with a sandy olson bloke?

or headcanons for being the only Curtis' sister.

worcount : 1,4k — masterlist 𝜗𝜚 navigation post

tags/warnings : third person pov, cuss words, canon-violence, typical sexist female steryotipes, 60's view in feminity, the gang (*cough**cough* Dallas and Steve *cough**cough*) bullying her in a friendly manner, the reader is kinda like sandy from grease.

The whole gang was sitting on the couch of the Curtis' living room, the TV playing Mickey Mouse. It was silent except for the sound of Darry cooking in the kitchen. Or that was until.. "DALLAS WINSTON!!!" your voice boomed across the whole house, just as all the greasers in the living room snapped their heads in the direction of your room Dallas came running through the hall while laughing his ass off. He was holding your curling iron in one of his hands, the cable pretty much flying behind him with how quick he was running. "I don't know no Dallas Winston, princess!" was his yelled out reply before he disappeared into the kitchen. It wasn't even two seconds before they saw you running hot on his trail, half of your hair neatly done and the other still without styling. "hey!" that was Darry's voice. "what the hell are you two gooses doing?!?"

⮞ to say you're shielded would be an understatement.

⮞ ever since you were born, as the only babygirl in the household, both your brothers and your parents have taken care of you.

⮞ yeah, you fought with Ponyboy a lot in your toddler years —especially about your toys, but you all cared for each other.

⮞ and now that you're in the gang, it's like the protectiveness has multiplied enormously.

⮞ as the only girl in the group, you're the designated babysitter for Two-Bit's little sister if he ever has to bring her along. ^you'll both be in your room, doing her hair or painting her nails. ^she adores you.

⮞ the gang bullies you in a friendly way, and I mean that Dallas likes to make fun of your girly things (nail polish, curlers, plushies, etc)

⮞ Darry does all the cooking in the house, but you do the baking.

⮞ Steve loves you.

⮞ like he loves you a lot.

⮞ whenever the gang comes by to hang out at the house, you've baked or are baking something sweet for all of them to eat and he devours your chocolate cake like a fucking animal.

⮞ they all smoke like two packs of cancer sticks a day, but god forbid you ever touch one of those Darry'll cut your hand off.

⮞ you're not allowed to smoke or drink. ^Dallas has sneaked you a few cans of beer sometimes.

⮞ one time Dallas made fun of you for the faces you pulled while putting on mascara and the next second he had Steve and Soda holding him down forcefully as you put mascara on him. ^he was full on kicking and squirming around like the girl in the exorcist and screaming as if you were burning him 💀

⮞ since then he keeps his traps shut about you and your make-up.

⮞ you're actually Johnny's favourite out of the whole gang btw.

⮞ you're calm, and giggly and spend your time doing unharmful and enjoyable things that he'd take over fighting anyday.

⮞ he likes to sit on your bed, reading one of your books, while you curl your hair or put on make-up.

⮞ Ponyboy is your forced and reluctant fashion man that will tell you "yeah, it looks good, like the one before" when you show him an outfit.

⮞ Soda's your biggest hypeman though, he'll actually tell you some pretty good advice on what looks better on you.

⮞ Darry won't admit it, but when you dress in something frilly or pink it gives him nostalgia of when you were a 6 year-old toddler running around on your glittery pink princess dresses.

⮞ We all know Soda is the middle man between Darry and Pony all the time. You, on the other hand, are never taken into account in their discussions.

⮞ Sad but true, they don't really hold your opinions as that important because you "don't know how the world works"

⮞ Steve and Dallas are always teasing you like those annoying gossip aunts in the Christmas dinner asking about a boyfriend.

⮞ they don't know you're staying clear of boys for your eldest brother's sake. Darry really doesn't need the additional stress of you being with some boy he doesn't know that well.

⮞ Anytime Tim comes to the house for whatever he'll give you clothes from his sister or stuff that she's grown out like a specific colour of nail polish or whatever.

⮞ you're not allowed to go to the rumbles, firstly because Ponyboy isn't either due to age and because you're a girl.

⮞ greasers don't pick fights with society girls, but society boys do pick fights with greaser girls.

⮞ you've got a curfew, and Darry will get even more worried than when he did with Pony if you ever get late.

⮞ you've got princess treatment from Soda and Steve whenever you drop by at the gas station to keep them company.

⮞ they tell you to just 'sit there and be pretty' (referring to the counter) whenever one of them has to go attend a customer.

⮞ you've actually, embarassingly so, when you were

younger had a huge crush on Dallas.

⮞ you were 10 and he was the handsome bad boy that tugged on your ponytails, what were you supposed to do?

⮞ he found out three years later, once you no longer where crushing on him, because Two-Bit ran his mouth too much and now he mocks you on it and calls you all kinds of nicknames just for funsies.

⮞ god forbid any of the boys hurts you with an insensitive comment because Darry will knock their teeth out of their mouths without hesitation.

⮞ one time Two-Bit said that your dress looked dumb while he was drunk and Darry grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and forced him to apologise to you and tell you that your dress was really pretty.

⮞ talking about dresses and Darry, he always measures that your skirt goes at least two fingers over your knee before letting you go out lol.

⮞ overall they just act like a bunch of overprotective —and idiotic— older brothers.

softfem-dom© do not repost!!

[cerezzzita]

Hear me out…Dante and Vergil using his arm transformed into his Devil Trigger form to warm the belly of his partner with menstrual cramps because they don't have a heating pad around…

notes: hi, anon! In advance, sorry for keeping you waiting for such a long period. Now that's a very adorable request! Been there, went through it, wish I could have Dante to comfort me, it's such a pain in the ass. Well, in this case, in the uterus. Sorry for the bad joke btw hehe

Thank you for requesting and enjoy the reading! 🧡

♡ tags: fluffy, mentions of menstrual cycle and period cramps, (in the most subtle way fr), no reader's appearance description, 2nd pov (you/yours only), gender-neutral reader, I'm sorry if Vergil's part is short I don't know how to write him, the dorks of Sparda are the cutest.

⠀🍓 ˖ . ᵎᵎ Dante & Vergil using their DT'd arm to comfort their S/O's period cramps

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

Dante

Cuddly, attentive boyfriend is on the way!

Really, Dante is gonna do anything in his league to comfort you and make you feel good. He knows how hard this time of month can be for you and will support you and help you in any way he can.

If you have a craving for something sweet? Do not despair, he’s got this, the best sundae of your favourite flavour just for you. Your legs and feet are itchy and hurting? He’s your man and will deliver the best of his massage techniques — and honey, they’re wonderful. But most importantly, the strawberry on top: Cuddles. 

As we all may know, Dante is in fact a teddy bear and has so much love to give. He’ll cuddle you no matter — it does matter sometimes — the situation, especially considering you’re on your period and are feeling down because, well, hormones are a bunch of bitches. 

That means that it’s no big deal when you don’t have your heating pad on your display. Why, what is a itty bitty heating pad compared to your big, buffy warm boyfriend? 

At first, Dante’s kind of unsure about your suggestion, thinking the rough texture of the scales would hurt you, yet he knows you’re well used to touching him on his DT. So he complies, one arm surrounding you and the other below the uncovered skin of your tummy, keeping your back laid on his firm chest, his chin on top of your head while cuddling in bed and gently massaging your scalp. 

“There we go, babe,” Dante whispers, kissing the crown of your head. “Feeling better?” “Much better…”

In the end you two spend the rest of the day/night in pure cuddles until you both got lured enough to fall asleep.

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

Vergil

Tea. Tea is the answer to everything. 

Jokes apart, Vergil is really cautious to make you feel good and free from any period pain, from your head to your toes. 

Which, yeah, includes him making the most appropriate teas for you. 

He won’t deny you anything, so have this chance to ask him whatever you want and you’ll have it. Vergil may be a little reluctant to cuddle you at such a time because he thinks you’re way too sensitive for it — on one hand he’s not completely wrong, the poor dork. 

Much like his brother, he’s pretty unsure about the whole Devil-Triggered-arm-cuddling but if it is what you wish, then it must be done. Serving you some mint tea, Vergil hugs you from behind and slowly but surely places his scaled right arm below your belly. If you turned your head right now, you would be able to see Vergil's reddened cheeks and trembling lips. 

“Are you… feeling comfortable?” “Indeed. Thank you, Vergil.”

As the afternoon time died, you both relaxed, Vergil deciding to read a bit for you.

cerezzzita©, 2024 · all rights reserved ⓘ do not edit, copy, steal or claim as yours | reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[blackbirdie1234]

Jealousy

Paring-Paul Lahote! x Fem!Reader

A/N: A short one shot. You know the boys are werewolves in this btw, you just don't know that Paul imprinted. Not proof read!

Summary: Paul imprints on reader. Reader does not know. Paul does not tell reader and a comment from Jared pushes him over the edge.

Readers POV

" Hey Em, do you think this is a good consistency?" I ask looking over at Emily who was kneading dough in her hands. I hold up the bowl for her to look at.

"That's perfect!" she exclaims happily.

I smile back at her and then pour the mixture into the pan.

"The boys better worship the ground we walk on for this," I say humorously as we share a laugh.

We both look up at each other suddenly when we hear the sound of shuffling outside and then the sound of the front door being slammed.

"Calm down Paul!" Sam's loud voice echoes through the house as he and Paul walk through the door. Well, Sam was walking, Paul was storming.

The anger coming off of Paul was obvious, when Paul gets upset it's like you can physically see the steam coming off of his body. Sam continued behind Paul gaining speed and grabbing his arm forcing Paul to look at him.

"I'm not going to say it again Paul," Sam said with a stern look on his face. The kind of look of a true alpha, which he was.

Paul whips around and gives Sam a challenging look.

"You heard what he said!" Paul quipped as Sam, expressing his irritation.

Sam pauses, they share a look, and Paul trudges to his room without a word.

"What was that about?" Emily asked questioningly at her lover.

Sam walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind, you could see his body relax as he sunk into the touch.

"Just Paul being Paul," Sam said heaving a sigh.

"It seemed like more than that," I pointed. Trying to get more information.

Sam and I had a brother-and-sister-type dynamic. He did his best to keep me out of things but I was just as stubborn as he is, so he knew I wouldn't give this up easily.

"Jared made a comment, in his mind, and Paul didn't take it too well," Sam said begrudgingly, obviously not wanting to bring attention to the issue.

"What was the comment?" I asked wiping my hands clean of some batter and flour.

I look up and see how tense Sam is now, avoiding eye contact with me he takes a muffin from the rack on the counter and sits down, starting to eat.

"It's nothing to worry about it's all been handled" Sam mumbles into the muffin "This muffin is delicious babe" Sam smiled up at Emily.

"Wow smooth change of subject, Sam" Emily says laughing a bit.

I think for a moment and start walking over to Paul's door.

"That might not be the best idea Y/N," Sam says from behind me.

I ignore him and continue walking. I reach the door and knock quietly. I hear a grumble coming from the other side of the door, and I open it to find Paul lying on his bed arm over his face.

"Are you okay Paul?" I ask, concern laced in my voice.

When he realizes it is you he perks his head up and starts to sits up. You walk over and sit at the end of his bed facing him.

“I don’t want to talk right now Y/N” he looks at you with defeat on his face.

“I understand Paul, but it might make you feel better. Just tell me what happened. Maybe I can help” I tell him putting my hand atop of his comfortingly. He looks at my hand on his for a moment before speaking.

“I don’t think you’ll understand” he says breathing out.

“Then help me understand” I say eagerly

He looks up at me and there’s something in his eyes that I can’t describe. He stares at me for awhile, just looking me.

“Jared made a comment” I could feel the heat in his body radiating off of him as he continued talking I squeezed his hand to show him that I’m listening.

“He made a comment about you” He started shaking thinking about it.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay calm down” I say taking his face in my hands and making him look at me.“I don’t care about whatever he thought, it doesn’t bother me Paul” I said trying to calm him down.

“It may not bother you but it bothers me!” Paul said cooling off a bit at my touch but still upset.

“What did he say that’s so bad?” I question

Paul sighs and looks down at his hands. “He was thinking about you, about how you are pretty, about how perfect you are, about how if he was your imprint he would tell you immediately.” Paul paused for a minute before taking your hands in his and fully facing you. “You’re my imprint Y/N, that’s why I’m so upset, that’s why it bothers me so much, that’s why he thought it, and that’s also why I smashed his face in the ground.” Paul said with a satisfying smirk at the last comment. “I know that you’re probably disappointed that it’s me but I can’t hide it from you any longer, I’m in love with you Y/N”

As soon as he finished talking and looked at you nervously you smashed your lips against his. The kiss was deep, hungry, you were a woman starved and Paul was a five course meal. The kiss lasted until both of you pulled away for air, Paul smiled widely at you and you shared the expression.

“ I could never, ever be disappointed by that” you told him genuinely “I’ve been in love with you since we were ten” Paul laughed with relief.

“Y/N will you be my girlfriend” Paul asked placing his hand on your check and rubbing gently.

“Of course I will Paul” you share another kiss, when you pull away you put your hand on his chest to stop him from continuing.

“What?” Paul asked looking like a kicked puppy, as you withhold your kisses.

“I love you but you better apologize to Jared, or no muffins for a week” you quipped jokingly giving him a smirk.

“No fair! he started it” He yells chasing after you as you walk out the door laughing.

[skulkingfoxes]

A post-mortem of "Good Morning, Rose"

A few weeks ago, I posted my addition to the comic anthology GLIMM*R, a short comic called "Good Morning, Rose".

The reaction to it has been so uplifting and exciting. It really seemed to struck a cord with people, which, really, the best thing for me to hear as a creator. I absolutely love writing and making short comics, you can do much with so little, explore such interesting stories. The feedback I've gotten has been very heartwarming! It makes me want to explore short stories even more!

But, first, I want to talk about some of my feelings and about the process of making "Good Morning, Rose". This got a bit long, so you'll have to indulge me a bit. You should also read the comic first before reading this. Don't worry, it's only 8 pages.

Now the preamble is out of the way, lets go back to the beginning.

The idea of "Good Morning, Rose" was a nugget in my brain for a long time! Originally it was actually from the Dreamwalker's point of view, where she was a faceless entity who had a long term relationship with Rose and was trying to figure out how to explain that their relationships only were in Rose's dreams. It was a story about seeing, accepting, and loving each other truly and fully, and the trials and tribulations of getting there. Also a cute girl with an ancient eldrich being is always fun to explore.

A lot of it was too convoluted, emotionally and storywise. It also required to get into what the Dreamwalker actually was, which I ended up really not liking. So, ultimately, the idea didn't work, and I put it down. I ended up going to do my short comic Twigs instead.

When I was invited into the wlw anthology GLIMM*R and was told that the theme was "dreams", I decided to take another stab at the concept. This time, I inverted the pov, it's now Rose's story. And instead of a long term relationship, it was about the powerful first feeling of a perfect (maybe even too perfect?) first date.

One of the hardest thing to write in romance is getting readers to care about the relationship in the first place. To have the readers believe in the character's feeling, to be invested in their romance. This is even harder to do when you only have 8 pages to do it. Focusing it around a first date helped a lot in that case. There I'm not trying to sell that these two character will love each other forever and forever, just the fluttering first butterflies of realizing you're developing feeling for someone. It's why I leave it so open-ended about whether the two of them meet again at the end of the comic, or even if it was real in the first place. It's just not the point of the story.

That's something important about writing short stories, I find. You really have to hone in on an idea, on a thought. Take a simple idea and try to find all of the interesting layers. It's too easy to try to stuff a short story with too many ideas that ultimately go unfulfilled. In fact, the first draft of the comic, at the time called "Dream Date", there was a big problem with this and the pacing.

Here, take a look at the first stab at the roughs:

(BTW, there is something so fun about roughs for me lol. The art is so kinetic and loose, all about just getting the story across)/

As you can see, a lot of the ideas and imagery made to the final version of the comic. But both the initial readers and I agreed that the beginning and end were good, but the middle was messy and slowed things down. You can also see that I got stuck in the same problem I did when I first conceived of the story, it's bogged down trying to understand the Dreamwalker in a way that actually hurts the story. You simply dont have any room for bad pacing a short comic like this. I need to focus more on the character's and their emotions and exploring their actual relationship rather than blandly trying to explain the situation. A friend also suggested that I should hone in on the fluid dream-like aspects of the first couple of pages, especially since it's so fun to explore in the medium of comics. So I got to work gutting it out and trying again with the new, much stronger imo, direction.

Also there were some issues with the page format that needed changes for printing, thus the final spread had to be split up. Which is a shame, but oh well, it still works. I also honed in a lot more on Rose and her insecurities. I ended up putting a lot of myself into Rose. I'm glad readers seems to able to relate to her.

After figuring out the the story and the pacing, I went and, well, made the comic. Once you've done as many comic pages I have at this point, once you figure out a process, the actual drawing is fairly straightforward. Eventually, after thinking, and drawing, and toiling, and revising, and thinking hard about my life choices, I come out of the other end of the tunnel with a comic. One that I ended up really liking. One that other people ended up liking, which is always crazy to me.

I got a lot of interesting reactions to the comic. One demographic thinking it was sweet, wanting more of it (always a flattering thought), and enjoying the romance. Other remarking on the bittersweetness of it all, finding your soulmate in a dream, maybe never to see them again if they were even real in the first place. There were a lot of people remarking how they had a similar dream, one where they met someone they seemed totally and completely convinced that they were real and told the dreamer so, until the dreamer woke up. There was one person who asked if I had met the dreamwalker myself. Alas, my dreams are not this romantic and straightforward.

But all of us can hold hands, nod at each other, united by one universally true statement: big eldritch lady hot.

There's a lot of little bits I can talk about, like how Rose's dress is actively modeled after selkie dresses because I think they're cute, or some other trials and tribulations. But I think I've finished all I have had to say. I hope you enjoyed this and will stick around for my future projects! I definitely want to explore more short stories in the next year, especially as I am illustrating big graphic novels for my day job and don't have the time or energy for huge projects.

Till then, thank you so much! Happy holidays and have a good new year!

[bone-and-butterflies]

How to hide plot twists from both your readers and your characters in a way that is not frustrating or annoying.

So I was watching a book review for a book that I liked but both loved and hated some of the plot twists. Of course this got me thinking about plot twists and why they work for both readers and the characters that are falling for these plot twists.

Readers

The key is to control the information that your readers have. Your readers aren't going to consider an option unless (1) that twist is really common for your genre and that reader has read that genre a lot and will therefore be expecting it or (2) you have very obviously given them the specific information nessesary to unintentionally figure out the twist before the characters.

Why does this information stand out, you may be wondering. It is because there is nothing else going on to distract away from a piece of information that can seem meaningless with the right context.

Most of the time, if you're not writing a very specific plot line with a very specific genre, your reader isn't going to immediately know where the plot is going so they may not be looking out for the information relevant to a later plot twist, so as long as you justify an informational choice that explains a later plot twist in a way that covers a variety of basis, they're probably not going to pick up on the one piece you left out, aka what is going to make this twist fun.

This piece of information should be something small and unassuming. It can be magical, but if you're writing fantasy that magic has to be hidden really really well. I find that a plot twist works the best when the piece of information that is missing is something you wouldn't really think about, like the reason a prince was able to infiltrate a prison and hide his identity was because he had his cousin standing in for him and we don't know that this cousin existed and knew the limits of that world's magic (this is actually a plot twist that fooled me btw despite how obvious at sounds now).

A good plot twist that fools the reader relies on twisting the information that the reader has and therefore twisting how they think the story will go.

Midway sidenote: not every plot twist needs to exist to fool both the reader and the character, sometimes it is really fun to watch a character fail because of something inherent to that character.

Characters

Remember how I said sometimes it's really fun to watch a character fail. That only works sometimes.

It is more annoying to figure out a plot twist that is really obvious and then have the character miss it because the author said so.

So how does a writer pull this off?

Be intentional. Have an idea in mind of when you want the reader to figure it out and ask your beta readers when they figured out your plot twists to control that as much as you can.

Your character does not know which genre they're in, so you have to both get inside the character's head and take the reader along with you so they understand why this character is making these poor choices and missing the most obvious villain in the room.

Why would a character miss a plot twist?

They are distracted or delusional. Characters have goals and they may ignore their better judgments to achieve these goals based on their personality. Put more emphasis on your character's motives to hide information that may make plot twists more obvious. Also, your characters may use information about their world to explain their motives and this information may also be vital to understanding a later plot twist

The average person does not go around thinking everybody around them is out to get them especially if those people seem incapable of that through the pov character's ego or the other character's demeanor. If your character has known somebody for a really long time or knows a piece of information that is vital to the worldview they're probably not going to immediately discard it. Fun fact: in the real world, when people have their views disputed, even with very good evidence, it can make them more likely to hold on to that old belief.

Expectation of harm. Different characters have different experiences with shape how bad they think things can get. For example, if a character has never experienced something, they may not know what can lead to that thing. (FYI older characters are more likely to know more things so be careful with this one.)

The Twist

For a twist to work, it must make sense with both real world and in world knowledge as well as common sense, so keep this in mind as you plan.

Conclusion

This isn't comprehensive because good plot twists require a lot of information to make them work and that's makes them very specific. While I would love to explain why different plot twists work, part of them working is them fooling you and hindsight bias is kind of a thing.

Keep writing. If a plot twist just isn't working either scrap it or let it sit until you have the information to build reasons why it should work.

[st4r-struckz]

i've been lurking around the rosekiller tag for a long while and i see a lot of people asking for rosekiller-centric fic recs, so if anyone cares here's my hand-picked list of rosekiller fic recs. this includes a lot of the popular ones but also some less-popular and very underrated ones (i think). anyways hopefully i'm doing this right cuz i've never posted on here before soo pls be kind if i make a mistake abt something idk.

this includes both long/multi-chapter fics and one shots btw.

also be warned; this is pretty long even though i tried to keep things short-ish (but i can't help it these are all such good fics i have to talk about them!!!). if you want the rough-ish approximation of this list in the form of a spreadsheet with more details (me ranting about how much i love these fics), click here.

LONG FICS (or basically just more than 1 chapter fics)

why do stars fall down from the sky, every time that you walk by by ricecake_13 (E, 117k, 17/?) this is actually my favorite ongoing rosekiller fic ever oh my god, it's a modern high school au with lots of povs and ships though rosekiller is the main one. beautifully written, gorgeous plot/pacing, amazing characterization, incredibly underrated, please read this it's a masterpiece.

The Blood of Hyacinthus by writingamarie (M, 175k, 14/20) another one of my fav ongoing fics, it's a canon compliant rosekiller fic (ravenclaw barty my beloved!!!) starting from first year all throughout the war. this is probably the best portrayal of canon compliant rosekiller i've seen, they aren't portrayed as poor kids who got roped into the war, they made their own decisions, and i love it so much.

Just Deserts by paletragedycat (M, 700k, 43/?) i'm at around like chapter 10 of this absolute beast of a fic and i am begging you guys to give this fic more attention. it's absolutely incredibly written with a fantastic plot, gorgeous characterization, this fic is absolutely insane like. this deserves to be like the crimson rivers of rosekiller. the plot is lowkey kinda hard to explain but umm. some of them are detectives, some of them are bodyguards, some of them are criminals. super cool. this fic is actually just so so impressive and so incredibly underrated it hurts.

sun tea in the summer by cademygod (NR, 44k, 10/12) this is THE rosekiller coming of age story i swear, modern au that starts when they're kids and each chapter they age 1 year, super cute and fluffy, i am such a sucker for childhood friends to lovers tropes omg.

Evan Rosier and the Unbearable Weight of his Own Decisions by Mywifeisaworm (E, 145k, 35/?) another great portrayal of canon compliant rosekiller, i really love how this one features all the slytherins we typically don't like (snape, mulciber, wilkes, etc.) bc it makes this fic feel even more realistic. this is a super awesome take on canon rosekiller and i love it.

Head Over Feet by sanguinerose (E, 136k, 27/27) i'm sure you guys have heard of this one but it's a modern au, super great, it's everything i've ever wanted from a rosekiller high school au. and evan is french btw god i love french evan rosier so much.

PRETTY BOY by IvyCore (E, 96k, 10/10) this is part of a series, the first part is SUGAR HIGH which is a jegulus fic but honestly this can probably?? be read without reading that one first (even though i still super recommend it). barty is a sex worker and a pianist and evan is a restaurant owner and this is just so so good omg.

intermission by bizarrestars (M, 43k, 4/4) very sure you all have heard of this fic (and for good reason too, it's fantastic) but in case you haven't it's a no voldemort au but still at hogwarts and in the same universe as just lovers (jegulus, also amazing, like the second marauders fic i read i think). this is so sweet and fluffy and cute and this fic is what got me into rosekiller i think soo yeah.

Tug by pressedink (E, 70k, 12/?) rosekiller dating app au where they pair two strangers together in an apartment and they can do whatever except they can't kiss or else they can never seen each other again. except barty and evan are not strangers. i loove this fic, and it's super smutty if that's up your alley. (did i use that phrase right? i feel like i didn't but whatever.)

Beneath the Mask by orphan_account (T, 105k, 44/44) okay this one is a really interesting concept, it's broken up into two timelines: one following them during their hogwarts years and the other following evan while he navigates life after the wizarding war. idk it's a bit hard to explain but. you'll see. so yeah all the war stuff does happen but they both survive afterwards. i really enjoyed this, it was a really interesting take on the whole war situation.

A Truthful Joke by justreadandwritex (T, 30k, 9/9) best friends to lovers au set at hogwarts but idk if voldemort exists (if he does he's not mentioned). just rosekiller being incredibly stupid and cute and oblivious.

Straight A's by stargirly161 (T, 32k, 14/14) academic rivals to lovers rosekiller oh my god i need to see more of them. another pretty popular one and understandably so because it's amazing in every aspect, i've reread this one like 3 times.

Ant Pile by sommerregenjuniluft (E, 21k, 2/2) super super amazing rosekiller coming of age fic and childhood best friends to lovers, god i love this fic. the story starts when they're little kids and it is the most adorable thing ever and ends when they're like 18 and it's just. so good. please read it.

having a ghost in my bed by v7lgar (E, 42k, 3/3) modern au and okayyy wow this is legit just smut all the way through and WOW is it something, this is like some of the best rosekiller smut i've read. if you're just looking for some smut this is the place to look.

I'm Not Gonna Teach Him How to Dance with You by greensenne (M, 122k, 18/18) you've probably heard of this one but i'm still including it, this is set post-hogwarts (so there's still magic i think) but it's a no voldemort au. basically barty's getting married and evan is his best man except Feelings get in the way. very very cute, quite slow burn but it's very worth it.

Tender Curiosities, Baby! by otrtbs (M, 79k, 6/6) ahh another popular one, it's in the same universe as art heist, baby! which you have probably definitely heard of (it's a fantastic jegulus art heist fic). anywayss yeah this fic focuses on rosekiller and it is so so good, idk if it can be read as a standalone though...cause there are a lot of references to ahb!

Rock Bottom by floretissogay (T, 7.9k, 10/10) super super cute and fluffy rosekiller texting fic, there's like zero angst it's literally just fluff and silliness.

Off the Edge of the Earth, and Farther Still by typhoid_fluu (M, 17k, 11/?) this one hasn't been updated in a while buut it's a canon compliant rosekiller au following them throughout hogwarts starting from first year. super cute, at least so far (cuz they're still in first year).

annoying by facestraightoutamagazine (M, 101k, 31/31) another great texting fic, it's a wrong number au and goddd i'm a sucker for those. this one has like minimal angst, it's all just vibes and silliness, it's super cute and funny and i've reread this one like 3 times.

Say Something by writingamarie (E, 43k, 12/12) PLEASE give this fic more attention i am begging. it's incredible in every aspect - the writing, the characterization, the pacing (especially the pacing omg you'll see what i mean when you read this fic), everything. rosekiller friends with benefits will always be my favorite. please guys just please this fic is so underrated it hurts.

bad idea, right? by sparklejumpropequeen79 (NR, 30k, 13/?) this fic got discontinued but i really liked it while i was reading it so i'm still mentioning it in case you don't mind reading fics that won't be finished? idk. no voldemort au where barty and evan are really stupid about their feelings. typical rosekiller stuff.

kiss him you fool. by everlovelymoony (M, 8k, 4/4) this fic is so goddamn cute i actually can't. barty is a kindergarten teacher and luna is in his class and evan is luna's uncle. can we please please have more rosekiller teacher AUs please.

Obsessed by andromeden (E, 40k, 2/2) barty stalks his boyfriend's ex and uhh yeah. this is 40k words of barty and evan being incredibly fucked up and also made for each other. rosekiller at their finest, you know. probably mind the tags though.

Ashes to Ashes by lupinist (M, 13k, 3/3) rosekiller friends to lovers never gets old. very well written, amazing dynamic and characterization, super underrated!

a rose will be for a rose (timelessness for your love) by iWrite (T, 6.8k, 2/2) rosekiller spin the bottle and being dumbasses about their feelings. only a light bit of angst, super cute, love it.

show me those pretty white jaws by 214lilacsky (E, 144k, 15/15) recently started reading this one and i do not know what took me so long because holy shit the writing is beautiful, the characterization is beautiful, just like. this whole fic. beautiful. wow. this is a fairly popular one i think and i absolutely see why.

Pickup or Delivery by lifeisabitch (E, 41k, 15/15) this is so so good, i am absolutely obsessed with their characterization and dynamic here. they are absolute freaks and i am living for it.

i would say i love you (but it's so hard, i won't say it at all) by avesgraveyard (M, 74k, 9/?) road trip au with a bunch of other marauders characters, this is super super cute and evan and barty are incredibly bad at feelings (as they always are) and i just. love this so much. i've reread this one many times before.

with a taste of your lips im on a run by siriusstardust (G, 6.9k, 2/?) wrong number rosekiller au that i am really really enjoying so far, it's super cute and funny and silly.

ONE-SHOTS

no one’s gonna say anything against a dude kissing his homie good luck by sommerregenjuniluft (M, 3k) literally the title, they're skateboarding, uhhh yeah. i really like the vibes of this fic, evan and barty are dumbass teenagers who are toootally just platonic, which is honestly my favorite version of rosekiller.

loving you (is the antidote) by serendipitysirius (M, 13k) amortentia fic, sue me i'm a sucker for those. it is canon compliant but voldemort and the war aren't really mentioned.

don’t want none of this (good times, all the time) by cheeryknots (M, 3.9k) one of my fav rosekiller one shots, i swear i reread this like once every two months lol. it's set at hogwarts and they're at a party and they play spin the bottle and they get Jealous and it's just! so good.

Holding My Heart Out In Shaking Hands by twoclosetothestars (NR, 9k) modern au, i read this one a while ago but i remember really enjoying it. this one has it all; smut, angst, and fluff (in that order).

most fun i ever had (i did something bad) by cheeryknots (E, 5k) this is an incredible work of art holy shit. there's also a second part to this series (the series is appropriately named rosekiller murder husbands) that i also adore so check that one out too. this is legit just smut and rosekiller being absolutely insane and very much in love and i love it so much they are freaks your honor.

ghosting by dracure (E, 5.3k) evan and james are together in this one (not for long after the events in this fic though lmao).

my way or the highway by heartnipnops (E, 6.1k) car sex!!! yay. yeah idk what else to say this is great smut uhh yeah.

Shotgun by DayDreamingQueen (E, 3.1k) more rosekiller car sex (more specifically blowjob). except they aren't even together in this one. how do you literally suck your friend off in a car and just. go on with your life. they are actually so stupid it's astounding. great fic though.

16 missed calls by katakosmos (E, 1.9k) i think i'm actually a little insane for age gap rosekiller idk. been stalking the rosekiller tag on here for long enough to know you all are too. so if you haven't seen this..

the best of you, honey, belongs to me by vianexa (E, 7.7k) rosekiller murder husbands with a whole lot of sexual tension except no actual smut happens (it's crazy), god i do love insane batshit crazy rosekiller.

sharpshooter by heartnipnops (E, 4.7k) A+ rosekiller smut, college/university au.

everybody plays the beautiful game while out in brazil by bloodytreason (T, 3.4k) au where evan is an olympic tennis player. this au is something i did not know i needed, like this is gold (wait that pun was not intended oops wait does that even count as a pun), i need more olympics AUs now.

The Way He Loves by wiggentree (T, 4k) i have reread this one countless times over and over, this is one of the first rosekiller fics i read and i will never stop coming back to it. so so good. i think it captures their dynamic really well and i am just. obsessed.

a rose will i bloom in my soul by iWrite (E, 5.5k) holy hell this is actually so good i might actually combust 100/10 rosekiller smut.

limbs by dracure, virginprayer (E, 2.2k) beautiful beautiful smut

sick, twisted, and selfish by jamespottermixtape (fushigayro) (E, 3k) rosekiller murder husbands my beloved they are insane i love them.

You are in love by rachel_elizabeth_truth (NR, 4.4k) this is so beautiful and lovely, it's based off of you are in love by taylor swift which is such a rosekiller coded song tbh.

aces up your sleeve by dracure (T, 1.6k) evan with a tongue piercing. i, like barty, would probably also go feral for that.

Call It What You Want by lxcuxex (T, 23k) clueless, oblivious, idiots in love rosekiller my beloved. incredibly long oneshot about rosekiller trying to get their shit together. love to see it.

my lost lover (i was made for you) by jamespottermixtape (fushigayro) (E, 9.2k) oh my fucking god this is so great, i don't typically read a lot of vampire/supernatural fics but this one. absolutely wonderful.

Midnight Rain by blackmojito (T, 10k) christmas fic (though it's not the main focus), this is so sweet and cute and just so beautifully written oh my gosh.

second guessing by dracure (E, 8k) gorgeous amazing beautiful fantastic everything about this fic. just wonderful.

such a lovely place to die with you by cheeryknots (E, 4.3k) apocalyptic au where they meet at the end of the world, this is so so beautiful.

Eyeliner by aithusarosekiller (NR, 1.9k) evan helps barty get ready for a party by helping him apply eyeliner. honestly i do not blame evan at all i would have the same reaction seeing barty with eyeliner.

remember that night by orphan_account (G, 5.1k) some hurt/comfort about barty not remembering a drunken kiss. really really good omg.

Pretty Cool by trinavera (G, 4k) very very cute high school au where they meet in detention (evan is the detention monitor).

Me and You by polyjuicedpadfoot (E, 8.8k) oh my goshhh i really really like this one, it deals a bit with the war and them becoming death eaters and stuff. super great.

Something of Mine by stoned_regulus (M, 5.3k) rosekiller post breakup, it deals with Feelings and some drug abuse stuff. it's pretty angsty but really good.

speak now (or forever hold your peace) by rweoutofthewoods (T, 3.7k) this is like equal parts rosekiller and jegulus but anyways. yeah james and evan crash regulus and barty's wedding.

like smoke behind glass by 214lilacsky (E, 4.6k) i am definitely super normal about this fic (no i am not i love this oneshot with my whole being it's one of my favorites).

when the heart would cease (ours never knew peace) by boundinchaos (T, 12.5k) au where evan doesn't actually die, but barty still goes to azkaban. also after reading this fic i desperately need more fics about barty and sirius interacting in azkaban.

AND LASTLY...SOME STUFF ON MY TBR LIST

i haven't gotten around to reading these ones yet but i really want to soo yeah. check these out if you want!

we can take it out back by roadsidehorror (E, 78k, 9/9)

Run, Baby, Run by saltywench (E, 16k, 10/10)

Nothing On You by the_brightest_star_in_leo (T, 1k, 1/1)

i desire violently- and wait by archivistrose (cursedstar) (M, 53k, 16/?)

He's Not Mine (but he could be) by the_brightest_star_in_leo (E, 18k, 6/6)

Silencing the Monster by Written_Willis (E, 7.7k, 1/1)

stoned off you (now i'm stone cold sober) by 214lilacsky (E, 30k, 1/1)

Persistence by stellar_jay (E, 11k, 1/1)

sacrosanct by vanity_scribblings (M, 6.3k, 1/1)

okay yeah this is all, i probably will never post on tumblr again and will go back to lurking after this lmao. if you're still reading this i hope?? you enjoyed?? yeah that's it byee feel free to drop some more recs (in the replies? idk how tumblr works lowkey😭) cause i'm always on the lookout for more of these two🙏

[ratcatcher0325]

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #36)

Chapter #36. Oh hey! It's been a HOT minute. I'm so so happy to finally get this next chapter out there! Natalie makes good on a promise to Alexander. Will he like it as much as she hopes?

Previous: Chapter #35

Next: Chapter #37

Word Count: 8,484 Read Time: Approx. 65 mins

CW: None

Btw, DM me if you wanna be added to the tag list!

___________________________________

A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #36: Alassëa

[Natalie’s POV]

With the dazed little man returned safely to my breast pocket, his new suits and their accessories packed neatly into a beautiful little white box with a crimson ribbon, I smiled one last time at Marianne, that wonderful woman, before braving the nail biting cold. 

It was only a handful of paces from the threshold of the door to the interior of my car, but it didn’t matter. The icy wind cut across my exposed skin and seeped into my bones. I shut the car door as quickly as I could, turning the ignition to heat the stagnant interior of my crappy little sedan. I peered down at the tiny man, perched upright in the bottom of my coat pocket. 

He leaned on the outside wall of fabric, his head and shoulder making the tiniest bump on the surface of the garment. Very gently, I ran a fingertip across it, caressing his shoulder and making his little head snap up in my direction. “Hey,” I smiled, “You’re not already falling asleep on me, again, are ya?” His brow furrowed as he crossed his arms, his little face sporting that signature pout I was sure I’d seen ten times as often as any smile. 

“No! I’m not– I’m fine! I won’t fall asleep. I feel perfectly energized and alert.”

“Uh huh.” 

“I won’t! I am more than capable of enduring a car ride without slipping into unconsciousness! Besides, the hand warmer isn’t even giving off heat anymore. You can take it out now.” He shoved at the plastic packaging, as if there wasn’t plenty of room in the pocket for both. 

I rolled my eyes, “Yes, my liege. Your wish is my command!” I pinched the offending object between my fingers and deposited it far away into the cup holder to my right. I cleared my throat, still keeping with the joke,  “Are you adequately situated for your conveyance homeward?”

He clapped his little hands like a command, “Make haste! Ride with speed, or this icy blast might be the death of us all!” He gestured with a dramatic flair, “I’ll stand sentinel, while you press on.” Little nerd. “You needn’t fear. My eye is keen and sharp. I will not fail you in my watch tonight.”

Within ten minutes he was out like a light. 

As I made the drive back to Cambridge, alone, I took every stoplight and yield sign as a chance to peer down and check on him. 

Still fast asleep every time I looked. 

I gripped the wheel, doing my absolute best not to come to any sudden stops or dips in the now slush covered roads. I wondered how close to home I could get without waking him. 

************

I awoke to no hum of the road, no heat of a human body engulfing one wall of this fabric room, no steady, soothing heartbeat thrumming through me. All was eerily silent and still. 

I shot up, panicked. 

Where was I?? 

It was dark. Much darker than it had been in the car, but by the dim light and through feel, I could tell I was still in the pocket. By batting against both sides, I confirmed the pocket that held me was no longer draped over the body of the human woman who’d driven me home. 

Why was it so dark? Where had she put me? 

Had she hung up the coat in her closet and shut the door? Had she forgotten about me? 

Fear freezing my limbs and tightening my chest, I wondered if my voice could even carry past the closed door, or if it would be loud enough for her to hear. 

“Natalie?!” 

Silence. 

“Hey!! Natalie!!” 

Silence. 

Oh no. No no no. 

Where was she?!?

“NATA–!!!” I clung to the fabric, struggling to lift myself up to stand and peer out. 

I could hear the creak of a door, the rushed padding of hurried human feet on carpet, something being set down on the desk and a voice thick with soothing reassurance, “Hey, hey, hey… You’re okay. I’m right–” as she spoke, I finally pushed myself up and over the lip of the pocket, only to bump into the tip of her nose with my head, “Oh– Right here!” She chuckled, my face burned, “Hey there!” She pulled her own countenance away so she wasn’t quite so close. I could see now that the coat was hanging from her open closet door, facing towards her desk. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was trying to let you sleep, but thought you might be hungry. I was only in the kitchen for a bit.” 

I sunk down onto the pocket’s ledge, awash with relief. The room was much darker than I’d expected at this time of day, but as I turned over my shoulder, the view through the blinds confirmed the winter weather was doing the sun no favors. No wonder it had seemed I’d been trapped in a closet, alone and forgotten. 

But no. Not with her. 

She’d been nothing but thoughtful. 

I admit, I felt my stomach twist with embarrassment. I’d cried out after her like some frightened, needy, little boy. I hadn’t become that reliant on her, had I? 

I caught a whiff of whatever she’d set down on the desk, and I perked up again. It smelled delightful. 

She noticed this instantly, “You hungry?” As if on cue to her question, my abdomen groaned for sustenance. I wondered if it was loud enough for her to hear. I nodded in the affirmative. 

She plucked me up and set me down on her desk with gentle ease, as she arranged my personal table and chair, turning on the desk lamp for better ambiance. She handed me the little plastic case that held my eating utensils, including chopsticks. I gingerly fished out what I needed, while she set the plate down in front of me, “Oh wait–” She paused, her fingers just letting go of the dish, “You sure you don’t want to change into something more casual to eat? Teriyaki will stain pretty bad…”

“I’m not a slob, Ms. Marquez. I know proper dining etiquette, I’ll be fine.”  

“You’re too fancy for me, you know that?” As if her current choice of a ratty graphic t-shirt and sweatpants weren’t already a clear indication of this fact. I bit my tongue, deciding to spare her any insult on the matter. After a pause, she gestured, “Et voila! Bon appetit!” 

Staying in the linguistic theme from earlier today, I see. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I remembered what Marianne had said to me: How I should confess my feelings to the woman beside me who clearly cared for me so much. 

My heart was in my throat and my face flushed. None of that could actually be true. Could it? 

I stuffed my face to avoid considering it any further. 

We ate together for a few moments, while I tried desperately to appear nonchalant. 

“So…” I jumped at the sound of her voice (so much for nonchalance), “What’s the verdict? Does this dish get the Xandy seal of approval?” 

“I’m not letting you slip that horrendous nickname past me with the bait of a delicious meal!” I pointed my chopsticks at her. 

“Eh, the reviews are positive, I’ll take it! Oh! By the way, want some more good news?” After the giddy rush of everything today, there was more? Baffled, I nodded my head, “I texted Charles while you were asleep–” 

Oh. So you meant good in the loosest possible sense. 

She clocked my disapproval immediately, “-Don’t you start. He said once I get through this last exam for the semester and break for the winter, he’d be down for that movie marathon he promised… Does that sound good to you?” 

Hm. Be anywhere in the near vicinity of Charles…. Watch cinematic adaptations of the greatest works of literature of all time? The scales shifted back and forth in my mind’s eye. 

I cleared my throat, “I suppose the human oaf could be tolerated.” 

“Jesus, Alexander.” She shook her head, laughing, “Just… Don’t call him that to his face, okay?” 

“I will make no promises. The scale of my insults will depend entirely on his behavior.” 

“There’s no stopping you, is there?” 

“Many have tried, yet none have succeeded.”  

She rolled her eyes as she shook her head in mock disapproval, before seeming to remember something else, “Oh, he had one stipulation, though…” 

Why ruin a perfectly good moment with a mention of that sweater-swaddled cretin? I couldn’t help but groan. 

She continued unperturbed, “Oh, hush. It’s fun! He just wants us to dress up in theme, that’s all!” She seemed to cue off my arched brow, “And don’t worry, I’m not getting any harebrained ideas. You decide what you want to wear. I’m not enduring the wrath of Alexander the Terrible by forcing him into any more unwanted outfits. Even though—“ 

“Don’t say it!” 

“I’m just saying—” 

“Natalie Elena Marquez—“ 

“You’d make an absolutely perfect—”  

“I will not have you compare me to—“ 

“Like, it would just fit so well if you were a—“

“-A hobbit!” I sputtered. “-An elf!” She exclaimed. 

We both balked hearing each other’s answers. 

I felt a warmth spread across my chest. Her first instinct was to characterize me as the balletic, poised, immortal and ethereal creatures of Tolkien’s creation? 

“Nah, no way you’d cut it as a hobbit, they’re way too sloppy, food-motivated and chill for the likes of you. Huh, come to think of it, maybe I’d make a pretty good hobbit… Well, anyway, Orlando Bloom should be jealous of what those pretty, blue elf eyes see!” She winked at me. I stared back, dumbly.  

“Who? See what?” 

“Ugh, nevermind! You’ll find out soon enough!” 

Oh, how I hated not getting an immediate answer to my questions. I sighed, realizing it was pointless to press her any further. 

I didn’t dwell on it long, however, because, after the meal, we finally returned to studies and research. It was a blissful, quiet camaraderie as we worked away by each other’s side. I took breaks to pace and stretch my legs, quizzing her for her upcoming exam, until I was practically swimming in scrapped post-its, discarded index cards and old notes that were crumpled and torn. 

Needless to say, we certainly had our work cut out for us. 

Eventually, her fingers and thumbs dug into dry, weary eyes as she stifled a yawn. It was clear she was about to drop. 

I, on the other hand, had energy to burn. 

She left me to my own devices, placing my bed on the desk beside me, before collapsing into her own with a groggy “Night, Alexander. I had a wonderful day with you…” 

“Bonne nuit tout le monde…” I replied in kind. 

I had a wonderful day… with you, too… 

I sat back in my desk chair. If I straightened my spine, and tipped my head back, I could just spy that mess of dark curls cascading over the pillowcases far, far at the opposite end of the room. As I turned, my pants leg brushed against a mess of crumpled and discarded paper. Humans and their messes. 

My work had just begun. 

*************

I must’ve slept soundly that night because when I was suddenly torn from sleep I was lying at an odd angle, almost perfectly diagonal in the bed, my pillow halfway falling off the mattress.

I woke up from something crashing directly into my face, tickling my nose and piercing my eyes. It wasn’t heavy but it was definitely enough to startle me. I tossed my hands wildly, trying to get whatever it was off of me. 

“That wasn’t supposed to happen… go back to sleep!” A little voice hissed, somehow directly from above. 

I was half asleep, barely listening and my nose itched and stung like crazy, making my eyes water. I couldn’t stand it. I shot up in bed, rubbing the tip of my nose with wild abandon. 

“Wait, wait, wait…. D-don’t! W-woah!!” a little voice cried.

I snapped open my eyes to see Alexander, at about eye level, careening wildly, one shaky arm pressed into the wall, as he straddled the headboard, trying desperately to keep himself from falling down in the space between the furniture and the wall.  As he balanced, he did his best to hold onto the plastic tape dispenser slung over his shoulder. 

I gasped and sprung into action, hooking a few fingers under his outstretched arm and cradling his side and back. I must’ve bumped the headboard and knocked him off balance as I sat up. 

The words flew from my lips, unchecked, “What the hell do you think you’re doing up here?!?” 

“Oh calm down!” He spat, even while clutching more tightly to my hand for balance, as he struggled to swing his left leg to meet his right. 

“You could’ve seriously gotten hurt! 

“I’m not stupid, I know that! But–” 

“I had no clue you were there! You were lucky not to fall and break your neck!”

“Yes, but I clearly didn’t and if you’ll just shut up for one–”

“Shut up? Not until I get to the bottom of this! What were you thinking?!” 

“JUST LOOK!!” He’d finally gotten into a balanced sitting position, pushing himself up and away from my hand while emphatically gesturing with his right arm to the rest of the headboard that stretched out beside him. 

Oh. My. 

I blinked, finally taking in the full picture of what surrounded him. 

Every inch on the top rail of the headboard was garnished with countless paper flowers, all different types, each made with intricate, precise little creases in the bright neon colors of my sticky notes, paper tabs and the black and blue ink scribbles on white and blue lined paper. 

My jaw dropped. Looking down, I found the culprit that had jarred me awake: a little blue buttercup, no bigger than my thumb. 

I scanned the headboard from right to left, taking in each tiny work of art, before landing back on the little man who’d made them. 

“... Alexander…”

“I wasn’t done yet. I told you to go back to sleep. I was so close—” He sulked. Clearly disappointed not to get to reveal his surprise the way he’d planned. 

“I… Um,” I struggled for words, overwhelmed by the kindness of his gesture. 

“It’s fine, you can spare me the polite insult of pretending to like it. I’ll take them down.” Clearly my lack of response rubbed him the wrong way.

With his furrowed brow and crossed arms, he was a comical juxtaposition to the bright and beautiful decorations surrounding him. He batted at one with the toe of his shoe, coaxing it away from the loop of tape that held it in place. 

“Wait, hold on.” I pinched his little foot between finger and thumb, he froze, meeting my eyes, “I love them. They’re beautiful.”

Did his face turn pink? “R-really? Er, uh, I mean… it was nothing.” I gingerly offered to take the tape dispenser from him, and placed it on the far side of the bed. He continued as he sat up and toyed with his starched collar, unbuttoned without the tie, “W-well, I couldn’t stand to go to bed in such an egregiously messy environment which you not-so-kindly left behind for me to endure. I had to do something with all of it. Besides, let’s be honest, you’re woefully unprepared for your exam, and despite all my best efforts, you might have to rely on the power of osmosis to absorb all the facts you’ve somehow failed to learn up to this point.” 

It wouldn’t be Alexander if he didn’t find a way to toss in an insult or two. 

“How the hell did you even get up here? And, dear god, please don’t do it again, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” 

“I’ll go where I please, thank you.” He snapped. There was clearly no room for negotiation there, and I had no plans of fighting him on it, “But it was quite simple, really. I used your charger cable at your desk to lower myself down, got enough momentum to tip over the trash can along the way, and removed its plastic lining, luckily it was more or less empty. I climbed back up, gathered the flowers in the bag, took the tape with me, descended again, and crossed the room. I used your clock cable to climb up to the nightstand, unplugged it, tied a loop, tossed that over your bedpost, climbed up even higher, and my work was nearly complete before you so rudely tried to kill me for my act of kindness.” 

“Oh my god, you did all that just to decorate my headboard??” 

“Well, I suppose… in a manner of speaking… Y-yes…”

“And I just slept through all of it??”

“I’ve never accused you of being a light sleeper.” 

“Ugh, guilty as charged!” 

He sighed, annoyed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “N-no. I said you weren’t accused. See the joke was—“ 

I couldn’t help holding up a finger to the little man’s lips, “I get it, smarty pants. It was just an expression. Hey, come here, I wanna see something…” 

******** 

In one smooth motion she held me about the waist and gently lowered me down to the surface of her pillow, her head soon joining me just a few inches away. 

She lay there staring directly up above, admiring the view from below. Her eyes lit up with a kind of earnest wonder and innocent joy that I’d seldom seen in the eyes of humans. 

I couldn’t believe as I lay there, peering up at my stupid little gesture, that I was actually giddy at the thought of making this human smile. My chest swelled. 

That is, until those golden green eyes were locked back on to me, and I suddenly felt as though there was no room to breathe at all. Her face was only a few inches from my body, and I swear I could see myself reflected in her irises as she spoke. 

“I wanted to see what it’d look like when I lay down at night. This was wonderful and thoughtful and beautiful and kind and I’m really grateful. Even if it’s just a passive aggressive reminder to study harder.” She winked at me, “Hey wanna do the honors?” She sat up suddenly, towering over me as I propped myself up on an elbow. Her hair cascaded all around her, enveloping her face so high above me. Her teasing smile brightened her face and shimmered in her eyes, all while I laid prostrate down below, so small compared to even just this portion of her. 

Those same feelings that had crashed through my every nerve at the tailor’s shop, cascaded over me now and threatened to drown me. But before my idiotic state had a chance to be registered, she’d already lifted me up and held out that last paper flower to me. 

“You okay?” Her voice bounced in my skull. 

I tossed my head in a feeble attempt to clear my mind, before addressing her, “You place it whenever you like. It’s yours.” 

She softened, “Thank you.” She twirled it in her fingers. It was no longer perfect after she’d batted at it like a feral cat, sporting a few dents and wrinkles, but it was still beautiful. “See? Mister ‘Oh, I’m not sweet’, this is total proof that underneath that grumpy facade, you’re a real softie!” She pretended to smell the flower’s fragrance. 

“I am not! Like I said, if I want your help, I need you to pass your classes. I’m getting desperate here.” 

“Yeah, uh huh, whatever. You’re a total softie.” She plopped the paper bloom,upside down, over me. The flower easily fit over my head and shoulders, engulfing me in darkness. I flailed my arms to free myself without ripping the delicate petals. 

She giggled as she watched me struggle, until, suddenly that peal of laughter cut off abruptly, “Oh shit!” I peered out from under the flower, ice in my veins. What was it? What had her so worried all of a sudden? “Shit! What time is it? My alarm…” she carefully set me down on the pillow before leaping from bed, almost tripping over the tipped trash can, clamoring for her phone, charging on the opposite side of the room, “Awww, fuck! I’m gonna be late for class! Goddammit! First day I plan to show back up in person and I’m already late!” 

Oh no. I’d done this, when I unplugged her alarm clock. This was my fault. I’d planned to return her room back to normal (as much as I could, anyway, that trash can was going nowhere without human help) after finishing my surprise, but that had all been thrown wildly off track by my stupid mistake of dropping the last flower. 

Poor Natalie. She was rushing around, throwing herself and her bag together in a hurried mess. She left me the tablet (less ideal for my size, unfortunately) and took her phone with her, leaving me with a few light snacks (luckily none of them being those godforsaken prepackaged cakes) and a harried, “Thank you, you’re wonderful, sorry I have to leave you like this. See you soon!!” Before flying out the door and on her way. 

It was only after I’d sat back in my chair, hearing the distant click of the back door locking in place, that I noticed she’d haphazardly stuck the final flower onto the headboard of my bed, still sitting on the desk, to my right. 

I couldn’t help the smile that blossomed onto my face and brightened the color of my cheek. 

The following days unfurled uneventfully, a blur of work and exam prep and delicious meals and nice-ish conversation, at least when she wasn’t making media references I couldn’t follow, or talking far too loudly and extensively about things I cared nothing about, or making a mess everywhere she went, or clicking that godforsaken pen. 

On the day of her exam, I quizzed her as I shaved in my vanity mirror and she fished for a pair of matching socks (a challenge, given she never sorted them in the first place). Before heading out the door, she’d crouched at the bedside table, her eyes level with mine, “Wish I could take you with me. You could whisper all the answers in my ear.” 

“How unethical, Ms. Marquez! I wouldn’t dream of it!” It’s not as though I fantasized constantly about being welcomed in those lecture halls like any human, “Now go. You’ve got this.” And with that, I shooed her off. 

When she returned, a few hours later, she told me she felt confident and well prepared, thanks to me. I shuddered to think how it would’ve gone without my help. 

The following morning, I awoke with a flutter in my chest. 

Today was finally, blessedly, wonderfully, the day! 

Yes, I had Charles to deal with, but I wouldn’t let even that unfortunate reality sullen my mood. I practically leapt from my bed just ahead of my usual scheduled time of 5:30. To my disappointment, Natalie was still in the depths of a sleep I was certain she wouldn’t wake from any time soon. Ugh. 

I wanted so very badly to leap across the gap between the bedside table where I stood and the edge of her bed and bat at her face or hands until she awoke. The faster the day began, the sooner I’d get what I wanted. 

But no. I should at least try to practice patience. I was a gentleman after all. 

I busied myself by making my bed with military precision, readying myself for the day ahead. With my teeth brushed, face washed and shaved, and hair combed, I dressed in something casual: brown wool slacks, with a white button up, maroon tie and a matching brown, single-breasted waistcoat. With my morning routine complete, I sat on the bed, twiddling my thumbs, checking the massive alarm clock beside me (thankfully restored to its full functionality after the last incident). The crimson LED lights read “5:51”. 

Alright, no more sleeping the day away. I’d waited long enough. 

Slapping my thighs as I stood up, I tested the integrity of my bad knee. It’d be fine… probably. Leaning back, I lunged for the jump, taking a few running (more like plodding, with my poor, damaged leg) steps before plunging myself off the ledge. I was keenly aware of how deeply comical this would look to any human watching, as the gap was three to four inches at most, but I admit, I still breathed a sigh of relief when my hands held fast to the fabric and I pulled myself to safety over the ledge. At least the journey wasn’t much further now. Luckily for me, she was sleeping on her side, facing me, sparing me the arduous journey of climbing all around the undulating hills and valleys of the bed to have an audience with her. 

On unsteady legs, I managed to rise to standing, not at all certain how well I’d manage to walk on the pillowy landscape of her bedsheets. My steps were toddering at best, but I managed to collapse against the pillow where her hair cascaded down like some strange and silent waterfall. 

God, I am so small. 

Her face, which cast a shadow over all of me, was mere inches away now, resting just above on the pillow’s uneven surface. Her brow was perfectly relaxed, her thick lashes twitching slightly as her eyes moved in her sleep. Was she dreaming? And if so, what was she dreaming about? Her lips, soft and coral red, were so close I could touch them. 

No time to think about any of that. I had a human to drag into the land of the living. 

Gripping fistfuls of her hair, I hoisted myself up. Immediately, she groaned awake, “Ow! Jesus! Alexander!” Her dark brows furrowed deeply as she hissed, but she never opened her eyes, “Why? Just… literally why? Are you okay? What do you need?” Her voice was hoarse, sleepy. 

I was on my belly, precariously balanced on her pillow. “Today’s the day! Wake up!” 

Perhaps one more good hoist would get me where I wanted to go. 

I pulled, she growled. 

“Stop that!” Eyes still closed, her hand raised from the surface of the bed and hurtled toward me. I twisted around, my heart in my throat,, to have a better chance at batting at her fingers. Unperturbed by any of my efforts, she easily hooked me under my arms between her finger and thumb and pulled me up the rest of the way, pressing me further into the wild nest of her hair, and now level with her shut eyes. I noticed she kept her palm flattened atop me, “What time is it?” 

“It’s likely just shy of 6 am–”

“Oh hell no. Absolutely the fuck not.” 

“But–” 

“Nope. Charles isn’t even coming over until like 11 am. I know you’re excited, Little Nightmare, but please…” 

“Fine. Fifteen more minutes!”

“Alexander,” Golden green irises, rimmed with red, snapped open, as she gently shook me, and pressed me into the pillow, “Let me have this.”

I huffed, crossing my arms, but I uttered no more protests. Satisfied, she closed her eyes again, before settling in for a second round of sleep. As she did so, she pulled me in even closer, where it was calm and dark beneath the canopy of her hair, the warmth from her skin crashing into me in waves, “Thank you,” she breathed, her voice groggy with exhaustion. 

Dammit all! Now I was trapped, perfectly wide awake with absolutely nothing to do but wait. Why didn’t I just take the chance to shimmy down the table and cross the room to work while I waited? That would've been far more preferable to this hell that was her soft skin serving as a heated blanket with a heartbeat, and her remarkably pleasant aroma permeating my very pores. It was just torture to watch her slumber peacefully as she returned to a state of calm. When would this horror show end? 

Rather abruptly, it seemed.

I found myself being gently woken up by a fingertip caressing my hair and cheek, “Hey, sleepyhead. Come on, mister, rise and shine. You’ve got less than an hour to get ready.” Had I slept that long?! I snapped open my eyes, finding I’d been transported from her bed to the kitchen, lying on that same cot made from a tea towel that I’d used before when sick with infection. It was the same spot where we’d recited poetry together and she’d discovered our shared love of those books. 

Now, she leaned over me, and I propped myself up on my elbow, leaning to catch a glimpse of what she was making. I could hear the rumble of something boiling and the sickly sweet scent of something baking in the oven,  “Uh uh, no peeking. It’s a surprise. Come here.” She reached for me, her entire cupped hand engulfing my field of vision as she plucked me off the counter. 

“Natalie!” I spat. 

“What? I don’t trust you not to try and look!” Eventually, she released me from my ‘blindfold’ of sorts, as she set me back down in front of my wardrobe on the bedside table. “Now, relax, and get yourself ready. I’ll come get you when it’s time.” 

**********

 I left him to his own devices, curious about just what he was planning to wear. I’d offered to buy him whatever he wanted to complete his look, but he insisted he had everything he needed at his disposal. I didn’t have too much time to ponder, though, as I had dessert in the oven and a boiling pot on the stove. I worked hard to finish everything to perfection, excited to see Alexander’s little face when I showed it to him. 

I bit my lip just thinking about it. Little nerd. No matter how hard he pretended to be aloof, he was like a giddy kid when it came to these stories. I couldn't wait to see him experience them for the very first time. 

I sweated over the stove for another half an hour, and was just placing the final dish, still curling with steam, on my coffee table, when I heard the tinny buzz of my doorbell, “Hey Charles! Come on in, door’s unlocked! I’ll be right there, one sec!”

I padded down the hall, ducking into the outer door of my bathroom to slip into my own themed apparel, before approaching the little man on my bedside table. I greeted him with a smile, and as he turned over his shoulder to greet me in kind, before knitting his brows together and scowling, “That’s what you’re wearing?” 

Wow, judgy! 

Clearly we had different ideas of what ‘in theme’ meant. Oh well, no time to bother with it now. Charles was waiting on us after all. I offered the little man my palm and whisked him away with me to the living room. 

The second we rounded the corner, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. 

Apparently, we all had different ideas of what ‘in theme’ meant. 

Standing in my living room was Charles, yes, but he might as well have been going for gold at the Ren Faire costume competition. He wore the signature green cape with the leaf clasp, silicone ears, a cotton shirt with suspenders and mid-thigh trousers, a plastic replica sword at his hip and to top it all off, big, ugly prosthetic feet, complete with tufts of hair on the top. They looked disgustingly real. He stood there with his hands on his hips, “I thought we agreed to dress in theme! What is this?!” He pointed directly at my outfit. 

 I tried to defend myself, “What?? This is themed!” He rolled his eyes at my answer, as I doubled down, “Oh, come on! ‘That’s what I’m Tolkien About’ is hilarious!” My offending black t-shirt sported the pun in a white fantasy font, complete with an image of the famous golden ring on the top. 

“It’s barbaric!” he countered. 

“It’s lazy!” added Alexander. 

Hey! Since when were these two teaming up against me?

“And what’re you wearing exactly? It looks like just a regular suit to me! What’s so special about that?” Uh oh, Charles didn’t know what he was asking for was he? Although, to be fair, I’d also thought the same thing. When I’d picked Alexander up he’d just been wearing another three piece suit. I didn’t see how that fit at all. Unlike my friend, though, I knew better than to point that out. 

Alexander sucked the air from the room, “Excuse me? Unlike your cheap, plastic, Halloween costume, I went for something sophisticated, subtle and wholly unique. If you’d have bothered to actually look at the detail of my ensemble, you’d appreciate the layers of metaphor throughout my wardrobe. Or, I’m sorry, is your vision still impaired from when you earned yourself a blade in the eye?”

Charles’ face twisted with frustration, before he noticed my death glare, and stopped himself. 

Emboldened, Alexander raised a cupped hand to his ear, “Oh, sorry, what was that?”

Charles looked at me, and sighed, his arms crossed, speaking through clenched teeth “... Nothing. Continue…” God, these boys were such nerds. 

Alexander, a smug smile painting his lips, cleared his throat and began again, “As I was saying, this wool three-piece suit is a flattering shade of sage green, representing the Silvan elves of Lothlórien, my two-fold pocket square made of red and black silk represents Mount Doom, my slate grey shirt is a nod to the famous Mithril armor, and my golden tie, of course, a nod to the Ring of Power, itself. Unlike the both of you, I can manage to pay homage to this beloved franchise without dipping my toes in the cheap commercialization of your capitalist society. I am far more creative than that!” 

“... This replica sword wasn’t cheap…” Charles grumbled, still obviously trying to keep it contained, “And I made the feet from silicone casts, myself. It took, like, 20 hours.” 

“Well you should’ve spent significantly more time, or got someone who knew what they were doing!” The little man was drunk with superiority. Little bastard.  

“Alexander” I hissed. This was not getting off to the right start. 

Charles cut back, “You’re one to talk about creativity when you literally didn’t make a single thing you have on. You just slapped something together and then threw in a bunch of novice-level references to match!” 

“Charles!” Was I hanging with friends or chastising two feral raccoons??

“NOVICE-LEVEL?!” The little man was clawing against my fingers now, as if he could somehow attack the larger man, even if he could reach him. 

“Alright! Enough, you two! Calm the fuck down!” I pulled Alexander back to the center of my hand with a thumb and forefinger, before pointing at Charles, “This is supposed to be fun. We are having fun, and you get no say about it. Both of you, stop getting your nerd panties in a twist and grow up.” They both blubbered their protestations. I cut them off, “No, shut it. Today is special. We’re getting along, and eating all this food I fucking worked so hard on and watching movies and making memories. Got it?” I was about to pop a blood vessel by the end of that sentence. 

Charles’ shoulders slumped as he acquiesced, sighing, “Fine. I’m sorry. Alexander? I’m sorry I got upset. Truce?” He crossed the room towards us, his false feet making a distinct squeaking sound with each stride. I bit my lip and blew air out my nose to keep from laughing. Those feet were awful.  

My bespectacled friend stared daggers at me, I mimed zipping my mouth shut and tossing away the key, all at an angle that the little man in my hand couldn’t see. Alexander sat there leaning away from the bigger man’s offered finger. He twisted over his shoulder to stare up at me, as if to ask “Do I have to?” I raised an eyebrow. He deflated. 

Finally, regrettably, he took the offered finger, refusing to make eye contact with its owner, “I’m sorry… you got so upset…” 

“That’s not a real apology and you know that.” I pressed, prodding him a bit with my thumb. Was that a tiny snarl curling his lips in response?

“UGH! I’m sorry you got upset by the painfully honest truths I espoused. There. Can we watch the movies now?“ He let go of the finger and thrust his hand into his pocket, as if to remove any physical trace of the interaction. 

“Whatever, man.” Charles sat on the couch, his mouth pressed into a stiff line. He fished in his bag for the box set containing the films, printed to look like a stack of books. I sat down beside him, propping Alexander up on his usual spot on the back of the couch, where he could be more or less eye level. “Good to know you’re so much better than us. I was actually really pumped about this, ya know? But I guess I’ll spare you any more of my embarrassing, poorly crafted props...”

The little man snapped to attention, “What does that mean? What’re you talking about?”  

“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal for someone who’s so far above cheap, crappy merchandise. It’s fine. You’ve made yourself pretty clear.” 

Alexander paused, pursing his lips, “W-well, what is it? Just so I can be sure?” 

“Oh… Just replica rings with chains that I got for us. Just more dumb shit.” As he spoke, he revealed a silver chain sporting a golden loop which had been hidden beneath his shirt collar, as he fished for another, identical to the first, and held it out to me. Alexander locked on the prop replica with hungry eyes, going so far as to reach out and touch it, as it passed by him, tracing the inscriptions on its surface as it was exchanged from one hand to the next. 

“I–I never said that…” 

“No. No, it's cool. I wouldn’t want to drag you down to my unworthy level of nerdiness. It’s fine. I’ll just keep the scaled down one I made for you.” He patted his front shirt pocket, to indicate where it was. 

Alexander’s jaw dropped for just a second, before he hastily covered it up with a facade of disinterest. The little man was caught in an impossible situation: he either had to admit he was wrong, something he was wholly allergic to, or go without this stupid little trinket he was so obviously enamored with. He huffed, brow furrowed as his mouth opened and shut, unable to make himself speak. 

Finally, after a pause that lasted a lifetime, “OKAY, YOU WIN!!” I could see this was physically painful for him, “I got defensive. I lashed out. I was… I w-was…. I was w-wrong.” That last part was a barely audible whisper. His face was bright red. 

“Apology accepted.” Charles turned on a dime, practically beaming, before reaching into his shirt pocket, and presenting the little man with the tiniest loop of gold on an even tinier chain. 

The chain hung on the very end of his littlest finger, swinging two and fro, as Alexander gathered it in his open palms, his pretty blue eyes wide with amazement. Charles carried on, letting the chain fall into the smaller man’s hands, “I uh… I hope it fits. No offense but managing to close a filament that small was… uh… a challenge.” 

************** 

It was… less than perfect. The two ends of the wire that he’d attempted to weld together were uneven, with miniscule gaps between them. When I slipped it over a finger, it didn’t come close to staying. I pressed my lips together, holding myself back from saying something insulting. 

“Yeah, I know, it’s… not great, but… I wanted you to feel included, ya know?” 

My stomach dropped and I felt a swelling in my chest. This human cared about me feeling a sense of belonging? I slipped the chain over my head as I choked out a thank you, extremely desirous that we move past this moment, lest my emotions be exposed. 

Finally, Charles cleared his throat, “Naw, but seriously, next time we’ve gotta coordinate better, because we all look like we’re going to three completely different events. Actually, scratch that, Nat you look like you just rolled out of bed!”  

“Hey!” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Whatever, you guys insult me all you want, I’ll just keep all this food to myself!”  

Oh, that’s right! The food! 

I turned over my shoulder to take in the seemingly endless plates and platters of cheeses, breads, fruits, cakes, roasted meats, stews and soups curling with steam. My mouth watered. I peered up and addressed her, “This looks amazing! You made all of this?” 

“Yeah, grew the grapes myself and everything!” 

I furrowed my brow. I had no knowledge of her having a garden, let alone grapevines. 

“I’m joking, Mr. Literal,” She prodded me with a thumb and smiled, “I bought all the produce and stuff, but the recipes are all my own. Hey, Charles of the Shire, cue up the movie while I serve us something to eat!” There went those awful squeaking feet as Charles padded across the room to her television. Natalie held me closer to her eyes as she stifled laughter with the back of her free hand. I broke into a smile myself, and shook my head. 

When I raised my eyes to hers again, I felt a warmth spreading over my sternum, and realized she’d plucked my tie out from behind my waistcoat, as she massaged it with the tip of her thumb, “And, hey, don’t listen to him. I think you look very handsome in your nerd suit.” 

Why was she doing this to me?!

Against my will, my face burst with color, and I squirmed with embarrassment inside her palm. She drew me even closer and I practically shivered. 

She spoke in a hushed whisper, her mouth brushing the side of my head, “Still would’ve made an excellent elf prince, though… Just sayin’” With that, her lips pursed and she kissed the crown of my head. My whole body froze and I couldn’t mutter a sound even if I’d wanted to. 

Just then, Charles finished setting up the movie, and broke our moment of flustered solitude. Luckily for me, he failed to notice my utter discombobulation and simply helped himself to the food before him. 

Soon, she placed me on what had become my spot on the back of the couch, before serving me my own helping of everything I wanted to try. When everyone was settled, Nat regarded me with a raised brow and mischievous smile, “Alright, Alexander, you ready?” 

I felt a rush of some indescribable energy course through me, as I couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. I felt giddy, thrilled, happy. I nodded, settling into the soft curvature of the couch cushion, perched at shoulder height to the humans beside me. 

And… The film began. 

My heart thundered in my chest at the very first line of voice over. I couldn't believe I was about to see the stories I’d cherished for so much of my life displayed on screen. 

Had I ever sat and watched an entire full-length film before? Not without peering over a shoulder or craning my neck to see only a portion of the screen. Certainly not sat comfortably between one shaky ally and another close… friend? Colleague? I hazarded a glance to my right, taking in that wild-haired woman, who could somehow make me tremble with just a soft word and meaningless peck on the head. Why had I let her affect me so greatly? 

Just then, the screen filled with a sienna and black ink depiction of that old familiar map I’d poured over time and time again in the copies I’d read from as a child, “Wait! Pause! Pause the film!” The humans’ brows furrowed as Charles scrambled for the remote. 

“What’s wrong? You okay?” Nat’s fingertip descended to my leg. 

I nodded, dismissing their concern, “I want to check… for inaccuracies!” 

“What? On the map? Alexander, it’s the same as the book, they didn't change it.” She reassured me. 

“Have you ever known me to just take your word on anything? I want to look for myself.” I crossed my arms and stared expectantly. 

Eventually she sighed, pulling the blanket from her lap and offering a hand. She walked with me up to the screen, where I could take in every detail. The truth was, I just wanted to marvel at it, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. At my command, she guided me along the length of the screen, as I took it all in. Eventually, I asked her to step back so I could see the entire image, as I ran my finger over my bottom lip. 

“What is it?” She was impatient with me, I could tell, but it didn’t motivate me to rush in the slightest. 

“The scale is off.” 

“Well, duh, yeah of course it’s a different size, it’s blown up for the screen.” 

“No, no, I mean the cartography. The relationship between things. They messed with the scale. I think of all people, I’m qualified to comment on size differences.” 

A voice from behind us chimed in, “Oh my god, is he going to do this the whole time?” 

Without missing a beat, as Natalie turned over her shoulder to address the man on the couch, we both responded with a resounding, “Yes!”

Charles groaned as Natalie held me up to her eyes, “Alright, Little Nightmare. You’ve made your point. You’re very smart and very nerdy. Can we continue now, please?” She batted her eyelashes. I sighed. I couldn’t say no. 

We settled back in and resumed the movie. I admit, I gasped and stared slack-jawed as each beloved character appeared on screen, unable to contain my joy at seeing hobbits and wizards interact with one another. I clung to the edge of my seat as the action picked up and peril arrived for our protagonists. The humans beside me seemingly failed to appreciate my astute observations about differences between the books and film as equally as I was annoyed by their constant, loud shouting of lines from practically every scene, terrible accents and all, but we did our best to tolerate each other. 

I found myself (completely by accident, of course) slowly getting closer to Natalie, until we were shoulder to shoulder, the fragrance of her hair surrounding me, as she absentmindedly, curled her fingers around my spine, rubbing along my vertebrae. I supposed I’d allow this unsolicited contact. It felt quite nice, if I was being honest. And, being curled up against her was much warmer than out there on the couch cushion all alone. 

I admit, this position also gave me great cover to hide my blush when the character of Arwen first appeared. I held my breath the entire time she was on screen, hoping Natalie didn’t feel the need to share my embarrassing fiasco while high to her friend sitting beside us. I was luckily spared from more humiliation. 

*******************

The little spot of warmth he made against my shoulder made my heart sing. I loved that he felt comfortable enough to be this close. Just like with a fickle cat, I was terrified of moving in case he squirmed away again. 

Even at this angle, I could still steal a glance or two at the little man as he watched. Don’t get me wrong, I loved these films, but the real joy was getting to see him experience it for the first time. His eyes were wide, his whole body fully engaged as he jumped, gasped, and laughed along. I felt honored to get to share this with him. 

Then, one of my favorite lines came up, and as it was spoken, I realized what it might mean for him to hear it: 

Even the smallest person can change the course of the future. 

I stole a glance down, only to recognize a tight knit brow, shimmering eyes and a trembling mouth. He was crying. My throat tightened too, just looking at him. 

Gently, I wrapped a thumb around his hip and across his chest, lowering my face so that I could whisper only to him, “... She’s fucking right, you know. Don’t you forget it.” 

Instead of a snappy comeback, I felt a tiny squeeze around my thumb, and the thunderous beat of a miniscule heart pressed against my skin. He held tightly for a few seconds, and I swear I could feel little tears wetting the pad of my thumb, but just as quickly, he cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, adjusting his little tie and running fingers through his hair as if nothing at all had happened. 

I let go and gave him his space, but every now and again, as I glanced back at him, I swear I saw him turning away, as if I’d almost caught him staring at me just a moment before. 

We watched late into the night, snacking, laughing, joking with each other. Alexander wouldn’t shut up about his every little opinion about everything. Charles wouldn’t shut up about every movie production fun fact he could think of, just to compete with the little man. I annoyed both of them by interrupting with meme references that neither of them had even seen. Alexander spent time watching while perched on my bent knee, reclining in my cupped hands and even down amongst the food as he helped himself to fistfuls of honey cake while cheering on the good guys in the battle sequences. 

But as we all got sleepier, he finally settled, curled up against my clavicle, his head resting against the curve of my neck as he nestled in my hair like it was a makeshift blanket. We fell asleep like that, while Charles stretched out on the remaining part of the couch, his head on the arm rest, those stupid fake feet practically in my lap. Right before we’d all fallen asleep, as the final credits rolled, Alexander sat up and, groggily cupping a hand to my ear, whispered, “Thank you for this, Natalie. I loved it.” That simple little thanks warmed my heart more than anything. 

I knew in the morning, while recovering over coffee, we’d get down to business and talk to Charles about the case, but for now, it was time to conk out on this lumpy old couch for a few hours before offering my guest a pillow and blanket and shuffling off to bed. 

I wondered if, as Alexander slept, he dreamt of monsters and mages and magic rings, or if those things paled in comparison to the dreams he held so dear that we were working hard to make come true. I supposed I’d have to wait till morning to find out. 

___________________________________________

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[kidicaruslover911]

blue eye samurai actors AU headcanons ft reader

tw: none except for the mention of M*k*o, not proofread, pitiful attempt at being humorous at 1 in the morning

a/n: i snuck a few references in here onto the bes cast, see if you can find them!! let’s just pretend you got akemi’s role. plus i did this on a whim please do not crucify me if i got certain details things wrong about the acting domain😔🙏 I MISS MY WIFE OH MY GAWWWD anyway, ENJOY!

Interviewer: Who are you?

Taigen: “Man, I be that pretty motherfucker man…”

Interviewer: “Taigen?”

Taigen *smug ass smile while nodding in agreement*: “Yessir”

Interviewer: “Tokunobu?”

Taigen*nods again*: “Yessir”

Madame Kaji *was probably told some bizarre joke by Fowler a second ago and let’s out the loudest laugh ever while covering her mouth*: “OH GOD- *keeps on laughing* I am uhm.. I’m Madame Kaji!”

Ringo: “Who are you-” *cackles like a witch*

Interviewer: “You’re Ringo?”

Ringo *stops abruptly*: “yeah, I’m Ringo yeah”

Interviewer: Who are you?

You: “My name is Beyoncé- Nah I’m just playing. It’s Y/N, I act and I sing and I Love reading fanfiction and I do stuff and stuff!”

Interviewer: And who are you?

Mizu: “I’m…Mizu…*awkward silence* the vengeful and badass samurai, yeah that’s me.”

Interviewer turns the mic towards a certain redhead.

Fowler: “Uhm Ed…I’m Ed today.”

- Originally you had simply accompanied a friend who absolutely wanted the role of ‘Akemi’ to an audition

- You had a vague idea of what the plot of the series was and either way it wasn’t like you were that much interested in acting

- But from your looks, mannerisms and personality as soon as you had walked in the directors almost immediately insisted on having you play the script (with no experience might i add) out to them and decided you'd make a perfect princess

- Yeah very odd but just like that you ended up getting casted for an upcoming Netflix series‼️

- You didn't waste a second to tell your girlfriend about this series and how they were still looking for the mc

- They were looking for an androgynous wasian female, at least least 5’7ft (170cm) tall, a good voice range, somewhat athletic and some sort of basic knowledge in martial arts.

- No prior acting skills needed, which was quite a gamble tbh

- Because of the amount of people that wanted the role, a face to face audition was not possible

- And what do you know?

-You absolutely suggested her as the mc, it was literally her

-Same name too I mean seriously-

- Girly did NOT want to send in that audition tape, you practically had to beg her to do it, because you just knew she’d rock

-She was happy for you but the whole revenge thing simply didn't ring anything within her

- Kind of felt as if you were putting way too much faith in her

- Took you weeks of convincing and even when she did send in the audition video it was on the last day like 30 minutes before the deadline😭

- Did the audition with zero intentions of getting casted, literally just read the script with her attitude and ran with it

- Expected everything but a positive feedback and it was only when she found out that the directors loved it that she sort of decided to take this acting stuff seriously.

- And since you were going to be there as well, she guessed that it wouldn't be all that much of a drag

- The two of you started journaling but from the pov of your character, researching about Edo Japan and you’d read each others thoughts from time to time and try to explain your understanding of your characters feelings to one another

- Both of you had too loose some weight and locked into the gym like never before

- It’s not like any of you were professional actors either way so,

- Mizu was very open to criticism and eager to learn

-and she learned fast too

-also pretty easy to be around.

- Kept looking for ways to better her acting and Fowler sort of became her mentor in that domain

-She quickly surpassed his expectations ngl

- That was genuine fear btw he later joked about how he almost pissed his pants at her performance

- Says he can’t wait to see her in more shows and different genres!

-Although Mizu wanted to take a well deserved break after BES

- At some point your girlfriend decided to rent a one room apartment and go into solitary confinement to fully concentrate on her role as Mizu, the self loathing samurai

- Method acting!

- Swordfather and Fowler were long friends before the BES

- You and Ringo literally became cousins the second you met on set, the two of you had a signature greeting and everything 🤎

- The directors were NOT playing when it came to the minuscule details such as the accuracy of either your walk or how you bowed, how you held your head, how you ate-

- Months and months of training, especially for both you and Mizu, five days a week, 3-4 hours fighting choreography hammered into her skull and it showed

- Which resulted in her being able to do a good 70% of her stunts

- Dislocated her left shoulder and almost broke her rib in this scene

- It freaked the shit out of you and they had to stop filming for a few days. Mizu had to spend a full week reassuring you that she was still alive and breathing and doing well

-The stunt in question didn't make it any easier to believe

- Claimed it was ‘just a funny bone’💀

- Months and months of training and practicing japanese edo period courtesy for you, five days a week, 3-5 hours of walking like a princess, dancing, talking, studying renga, Ikebana and many more Japanese arts from that period of time, getting used to them heavy robes on you, THE HAIR AND PINS

- You could NOT lay down with these traditional hairstyles, you’d have professionals do it once a week and they’d expect you to keep it for that full week

- Your head felt heavy af

- You had to sleep on a takamakura (small elevated wooden pillow) to not mess up your hair which helped immerse yourself even more into your role

- They had literal specialists of the period to show you how it goes, kimono’s that hadn’t seen the light of day in centuries where whipped out to be replicated for your measurements specifically

- It was a lot

- But it all paid off in the end!

- Your girlfriend would forget to tune back her voice even after filming, you never bothered to mention it though

-Her low voice stayed even weeks after the shooting of the series but you didn’t mind it at all🙏

-It was like hearing her morning voice 24/7 lmaooo

- In this scene Mizu accidentaly struck the training sword way to high up in between that man’s legs and crushed his nuts real bad.

- Spent the entire week apologizing and looking after the guy for the rest of the filming

- Ringo sort of got adopted by you and Mizu on set and kept having mini panic attacks whenever Mizu executed her stunts 😭

- She had the two of you in a chokehold.

- The scene where Ringo unintentionally asks Mizu how two girls in a brothel could work was genuine and not scripted and both you and Mizu had fight for your lives to stay in character

-After filming the scene where Mizu lets the guards take you away the whole set jokingly kept calling it your character's 'breakup scene'

- Swordfather is Ringo’s real life dad!!

- Mizu’s a natural at improvising comebacks, mainly because she couldn't get a hang of quite a few lines but that didn't stop people from being baffled by her quickness.

- Like, she just makes stuff up and it works

- "…it's trash", “Should I’ve been counting?” and "I like your hair" were one of the many lines that were not scripted but they still kept it in.

- Mizu's reaction in the scene where she sees you in that carriage for the very first time in the series was very much real

- like she was NOT prepared.

- jaws on the floor and everything, that afternoon the directors had made sure she hadn't caught as much as a glimpse of you in the robes and makeup on set to get the most authentic reaction possible and it WORKED.

- The script only said "stares curiously" but her longing ass made it 100 times better HAHHAHAA

- no but really she was admiring the view and Fowler claimed that it almost looked like she was about to chase that carriage

-genuinely could not take her eyes off of you in general but with you role as the princess it became 50 times worse

-could not stop complimenting you and if it weren't for her character she would've gotten all the more touchier

- Even if Taigen was supposed to be your lover you couldn’t even remotely stand him as a character but formed a good friendship with him on set

-He was actually getting engaged irl!!

- You could NOT keep a straight face after saying the fish line “I’d marry you even if you were the son of a poor fish” with Taigen and kept on bursting out laughing, you didn’t know why you found it so funny

- The sex scene with him was…something 💀🙏🙏

- He kept asking you and Mizu if he had both yalls approval

-Very mindful

- The directors couldn't really bring in a double for this...

- It’s not like y’all were fucking for real and there wasn’t much passion between you and him either way

- And you weren’t truly naked either to so it was just very bland and you didn’t really know what to think of it

- The scene that followed had to be shot a good 15 times because of how awkward the whole situation was…you could NOT keep a straight face, they ended up making the scene shorter than it was supposed to be

-The fact that you had to act as a seductress of men the more the story went on was super strange to you at first but you sort of got over it (you never really liked it tbh)

- Mizu accidentally kept hitting Taigen too hard during the chopstick fight😭

- Which was also his fault because in the beginning she actually tried to avoid hurting him seriously but Taigen really just screamed

- "COME AT ME FOR FUCKS SAKE. I want to kill you, BE ANGRY, BE COCKY. Show me what you can do, show me that you’re better than me!!”

- It made her act more intensely

- Accidentally knocked Taigen out for real with the broken blade

- Taigen jokingly kept apologizing to you when they shot that scene where he beats the crap out of Mizu after the chopstick fight because he knows how little you like the character he plays

- Fowler kept making gay bed chem jokes with Heiji and bro was a victim💀🙏

Ringo is probably taking a video of the scenery's set from the Edo castle until the camera falls onto a casually eating and conversating Heiji and Fowler

They're just standing there with coffee and a bagel. It's break time.

But the moment the smartphone's lens captures the duo, this huge redhead smirks and grasps yet another chance to embarrass his poor colleague.

Fowler with an arm swung around Heiji: "Me and Heiji cuddle and watch Smack DVD" :333

You can hear Ringo holding back a snort behind the phone before almost immediately wheezing at the thought. The camera shakes slightly from it.

Heiji (this was probably this man's last straw) *deadpans and stares into the cameraman's soul*: "| don't cuddle-*

You *peeking in from the corner of the screen*: "He be licking this guy's hair like 'UGHHH😝’

You lean into Heiji's personal space with the demonstration while humoring Fowler and simultaneously having him crack the loudest cackle ever.

Heiji shaking his head at you *he's about to end it all*: "I don't- I don't do that. That's not true-"

You stop him midway of his excuses in a 'and i'm going to hold your hand when I say this' type of way:

"I know you don't do that-"

Fowler plops up between the two of you with a grinch smile, a hand on both of your shoulders and he really looks like he's trying to rizz up the camera man😭:

“I do that.”

Ringo, Fowler’s and your own laugh could be heard throughout the entire set and Heiji could only pinch his brows in visible defeat, the video ends there.

- Fowler was probably one of the the nicest men you’d ever met, very supportive and kind and even if you had zero scenes with him, you still hung around him a lot

- great life coach!

- Biggest fan of older Disney movies and Tom and Jerry, and I mean like the 1940s - 1980s cartoons

- Made you feel super safe at first but when you saw him in his element he did scare the shit out of you sometimes

- A proud you x mizu shipper too

- Has tons of pictures of the two of you sleeping in on each others shoulders on set, goofing around, videos of you reciting your lines to each other...

- His favorite is by far the one after the thousand claw army scene was shot, where you have an arm around her shoulder, leaning into her face while staring at the camera and flashing a peace sign next to her cheek. You were also pressing a kiss on it. There is a trail of fake blood trailing across your face and Mizu’s clothing seems ruined with filth

- Your girlfriend has her own arm snuck around your waist, her other hand is holding her naginata/sword, face painted in fake blood as well while rolling her eyes with a soft smile.

- Y’all managed to look silly while barely surviving a hundred men’s attack😭🙏

- He printed it out and signed it ‘disaster lesbians <3”

- Fowler affectionately calls the two of you ‘Boney and Clyde’ 💀🤎

-Mizu wearing Taigen's scarf lowkey made you jealous even if you had to admit that it suited her so well

- You were highkey fangirling when you first got to meet Madame Kaji's actress face to face like...Mulan's VA fr??? The legend?

- Also just look at the woman, absolutely stunning.

- She thought that you were the cutest and you two couldn't wait to get your scenes together

- This lady helped you boost your confidence in your acting

- Madame Kaji was quite literally everyone's mom/idol on set

- literally such a diva but still very humble

- Chainsmoker but surprisingly doesn't smell, or at least not in an unpleasant way

- She makes the best tiramisu

- Kept soft parenting everyone

-Ringo and Kaji had already known each other irl and they were ALWAYS on smoking breaks together although he doesn't smoke

- Both him and Fowler deeply respect her and her work

- These two (Kaji and Fowler) were gossip and wine aunts trust.

-Ringo once ate Oreos on set but in the way where you separate the two biscuits and nibble on the filling first and then you eat the rest.

-That's when you realized he really was your brother from another mother

-Heiji kept saying that this is sacrilege‼️

- The scene where you drugged Mizu's cup and she's playing stupid while trashtalking Taigen was a challenge for you, they had to redo 7 takes because you kept forgetting that you were supposed to hate her and she was your target to kill it was ridiculous 😭

*Mizu almost drinks the sake*

“Hot”

“Where I’m from that’s how the men prefer it.” *you clear your throat*

*Long awkward silence where Mizu has to hold back a smile*

“And I’d also prefer not to be so nuts to that damn line I cannot remember it- And stop looking at me like that” 💀

Your line was “Kyoto”🙏🙏

CUT!!!

-You absolutely wanted to lunge at her but for all the wrong reasons..

- And Mizu's smug ass was not helping, she genuinely couldn't stop laughing and teasing you after the final take.

- You also had no idea Mizu was supposed to straddle you-

- Another thing that wasn’t scripted.

- On your script it only said that she'd pin you to the ground which was already a lot to handle in the first place,

- but you were really good at staying in character and since you were genuinely struggling and putting up such a fight against her, Mizu just decided to full on straddle you, yup

- And when she leaned down,

QUIET ON SET!

ROLL SOUND!

ROLL CAMERA!

bes scene #254 take 1

ACTION!!

*you almost die when you feel her hips press down on you*

- "You think I don't remember you? Princess Akemi of the Tokunobu clan. You drugged my cup"

-"I wish it was poison"

- That's when Fowler whisper screams "ok now KISS!!!" off camera and the entire set had to hold it in, like there was so much tension between the two of you even the directors had to let out a little laugh.

-They had to cut it out

"A fucking brat." 'Mizu your line was 'I see why he likes you. You're just like Taigen when we were children. Pathetic'

- They still kept her own version.

- It definitely made you feel some type of way.

- Mizu could not stop crying for like a solid 30 minutes after shooting the scene where she kills Kinuyo, somehow it felt way too personal

- You had to hold her that entire night too

- Almost threw up when she had to make it look like an accident even though she knew that everyone was doing well

- There were also moments where people just couldn’t speak with her beforehand or else she would break character, for example the scene where M*k*o betrays her...she asked to be left alone for a good 30 minutes before filming it, that's how committed she ended up being to her role

-The chest bindings...(!!!)

-Her performance made you so proud- like you knew she would be amazing but it also had you very worried about her mental state

- Definitely sought therapy after shooting the series, her character had forced her to go into deep dark places in order to act out the female rage parts the best she could and it showed

- In this scene your very first reaction was the realest ever

bes scene #401 take 1

ACTION!

“Rabbit liver in a velouté of what now?” 😭😭😭

CUT!!

- You knew about this beforehand of course but still

- One of the interesting things was the period accurate food and how much they tried to stay true to the recipes.

- Like reading about it and then seeing and smelling it irl are two different things

- Instead of horse semen they did end up using egg white

- The rabbit liver was rabbit liver tho

- First bite almost made you choke by instinct but you swallowed it anyway

- Ouhhhh they were trying you which made you even better at forcing you to stay in character, because that’s exactly what the princess is going through. She can't afford to mess up

- The scent was everything but appealing but lucky you they replaced what was supposed to be pig blood with very dark grape juice, not that it really helped but that was one less horrible thing

- You were supposed to take one bite only, a once in a lifetime experience!

you almost died and had to reshoot 4 times because you kept gagging

another blooper-

"Many famous samurai prefer the stamen to the pistil"

-So what happened here was that miss Mizu had once again forgotten her line and instantly replied “I’m not gay.” to Madame Kaji’s advances 💀

- So Madame Kaji just played along

“You’re not?” *visibly confused, like 'huh🤨'??*

“No….I mean not like that-“ *side eyes the camera*

“A lot of lying today-” *she's now smirking*

“I have a partner of my own” *The girl already messed up the scene so it doesn't really matter what she says next*

"Then it appears that the gentleman might simply prefer the petal against... another petal" *Mizu immediately whips her head at the woman with a cocked brow (she's trying to stay in character so bad, but she's also simply speechless) who cannot contain her amusement any further and laughs brightly*

CUT!!

-Another personal headcanon I have is that Lady Itoh and Madame Kaji knew each other irl and had a short affair-

I should sleep!

If you also miss our vengeful, silly and murderous blue eyed queen then you should defintely read my fanfiction on ao3!

The Damsel of Devastation Masterlist

alright seriously now.

I should sleep.

[babyleostuff]

Hiii!!! so I just read your cheol fic when he was being a dick for his s/o caring (it hurts... it's the beginning of the title, sorry brain is fried from uni) I was wondering if we could get the in-between of the fight like in the practice room after s/o left and everyone was shocked. mingyu fought him?? like gotta know what happened, anyway sorry if this is too long

hope yoyr day, night, evening, morning, or whatever time it is for you is going well!! your writing is so captivating too btw

-Nabi

thank you so much for your request 💜 hope you enjoy this!

you can find part 1 here

HURTS SO BAD | PART 2 | CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

summary | seungcheol’s pov from my previous fic

genre | angst

word count | 1k

pairing | choi seungcheol x gn!reader

“Fuck you, Seungcheol.”

Instantly, as these words escaped your mouth, he regretted every single thing he just said, praying that he could somehow turn back time. But there was nothing he could do now, the damage was done, and he simply watched you leave with a heartbroken expression.

He wanted nothing more than to crumble into a small ball and hide somewhere far from here. 

Despite the music still playing from the speakers, the silence in the room was almost deafening. Seungcheol could feel the hard stares from the boys, as they tried to wrap their heads around what just happened. 

“Did you actually lose your mind?” Jeonghan was the first to speak up. Seungcheol didn’t dare to look up and face the disappointed expressions of his friends. 

“Never in all those years we have been together have you ever said anything so cruel, no matter how fuck up things were. And now you lash out at your, mind you, partner for being worried about you?” Jeonghan scoffed, clearly angry at his bandmate. 

Seungcheol knew that there was nothing he could say or do to make this situation better, he only stood there with hunched shoulders and a tight throat. 

“What has gotten into me,” he thought.

Yes, he was stressed as hell, and everything irritated him lately, but he swore he would never take his anxiety out on you. Well, until now. 

The jacket you threw at him caught his attention, laying abandoned on the floor. Is this how you feel right now - left behind and neglected, by the person who was supposed to love you no matter what? He took a step to pick it up, still feeling the warmth of your body coming from it. 

“I’m going to fix this,” Seungcheol said quietly, putting the fabric to his chest. 

“Did I hear you right, hyung? You’re going to make it right?” laughed Mingyu, approaching the older one. “You just yelled at your partner and told them the worst things you could have ever possibly said. We can put up with your bitchy behavior, but that’s not an excuse to treat them like shit,” he said, clearly very agitated by the whole affair. 

“Let it go Mingyu, he knows what he has done. It’s his problem now how he’s going to get out of this shit,” said Jihoon, putting an arm on the taller’s shoulder to calm him down. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just basically emotionally abused one of my best friends.” 

“Hey, don’t you fucking dare saying I abused them in any way,” Seungcheol raised his voice at at younger boy, his emotions getting out of hand. “I know what I have done, and I’m going to make it right again,” he said, not exactly convinced himself. 

“So what, you think you'll buy them flowers, pout and make puppy eyes, and they'll forgive you?” he scoffed and crossed his arms, making him look bigger than he already was. 

“No, making puppy eyes is your thing, I’m not that cheap,” Seungcheol fired right back at him. 

With each exchange between Seungcheol and Mingyu the tension only escalated, the atmosphere becoming charged with a mix of anger, frustration, and hurt. Their tones harsh and cutting, both of them tried to defend their position. Sadness, and disappointment were evident on their faces, further fueling the intensity of the situation. 

“I messed up, alright? But you're acting like I hurt them on purpose-.” 

“Well, to us it looked like you wanted to-.” 

“Could you just stay the fuck away from my relationship and focus on your shitty love life?” 

The rest of the boys, who were skeptically watching what was going on, knew this wouldn’t end well. Mingyu might have been passive most of the time, letting the others walk over him and still not batting an eye, but when it comes to his friends and their well being, he wouldn’t just stand around and watch. 

Wonwoo who was standing by the mirrors slowly came up to Mingyu and patted his back. 

“There is no use Mingoo, you’re not helping here,” he said sternly. 

“Well, I have the right to be angry.” 

“No one said you didn’t, but let’s not add more fuel to the fire, okay?” 

Mingyu glared at Seungcheol for the final time, before turning around and walking out of the room. 

“I’m going to check up on him,” said Mingaho. 

As the tension evaporated the second Mingyu left, Seungcheol could feel his anger turn to sadness and powerlessness. Now not only has he hurt you, but also his friend, who was so dear to him. 

Seungcheol felt trapped, not knowing what to do next and feeling extremely mentally and emotionally drained. He sighed deeply with a blank stare, drained from all of his usual energy. 

With the silence still apparent, everyone parted ways to give Seungcheol some space. Only Jeonghan and Joshua stayed by his side, not knowing what to do. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” asked the oldest, with a tired voice. 

“We’re all here for you, Coups and you're not alone in this. Don’t worry about Mingyu for now, he’ll come around,” said Joshua. “Take a deep breath and try to think clearly about this.” 

“It's just that everything seems to be going wrong, and I feel like I have no control over it.”

“We know, but you should have just talked to them. Why didn’t you do it? Why did it have to come to this Coups?” asked Jeonghan. 

“I don’t know, I really don’t. I thought I was stronger than this, that it would pass and everything would be okay. I just didn’t want to be a burden to them.” 

“Well that didn’t end up too well,” said Joshua, laughing at Seungcheol’s pouting face. 

“Thank you for being here for me. I really need that right now.”

“Of course! That's what family is for. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re all so pissed at you right now,” said Jeonghan. 

“Yeah, for a second there I thought Mingyu was going to punch me or something,” chuckled Sungcheol. 

“I wish he did,” muttered Joshua, and walked away quickly before the oldest could respond. 

“I’m going to make this right,” thought Seungcheol. “No matter what it takes.” 

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been thinking the kind of writing I do and the kind of reactions it gets. Some authors get goofy comics of their works. Me? I just got a comment on my Captain America: Winter Soldier fic that I helped the reader understand 9/11. I am, by the way, delighted by that.

I struggle to describe my own writing style. It's wordy, I know that, and favors a LOT of detail, to its benefit and detriment. I'm indulging this tendency for my current fic because it's fanfic and I am having a lot of fun seeing what details I write that I end up elaborating on, but my number one style goal this year is to work on brevity and a snappier pace. My style is so introspective; characters spend a lot of time reflecting on themselves. I put a lot of work into making my characters complex, even at times contradictory because I think that's true to human nature. And by god, do I think about a story's themes. Do other writers think about themes this much? Sometimes I'm like, hey brain, I'm actually good on themes. Would love to get some plot.

Not to entice all the sapiosexuals out there, but I take a very cerebral approach writing. (This does not btw mean that the fic itself will be particularly intelligent.) I'm not saying this is a good or bad way--it's one way to write. My writing can feel very cold to me. Very same-y as well. That's why writing SQQ pov is so fun, it's such a radically different voice than my usual.

The fic I'm writing now was supposed to be a lighthearted fic that was an excuse for me to practice writing a sex scene. Almost 80k words in, it's so super not that. I just can't resist the thrall of complication. Although you know, as I'm writing this, I'm not exactly sure what an "intellectual approach" to writing even means to me. I use big words? I overuse semi-colons?

Maybe it's the way that I'm so language-forward in my writing. Like, what I love doing is crafting a sentence. Someone described literature to me as writing where the main draw is the author's technical accomplishment in executing their style. I definitely favor authorial voice, to the point where the stories I write that I like least feel like balsa wood gilded over. It looks nice, but you quickly realize it's weak as hell.

There's works that clearly value style over plotting, and vice versa. You need both when you write--all plot with no style reads like a synopsis of itself and all style with no plot is imagery in pursuit of nothing. Both very boring in their own way. It's interesting how totally which one weighs more affects every part of the story. Mrs. Dalloway is not a fast-paced page turner, and a thriller doesn't halt itself so we can read really beautiful, pointless paragraphs about how the color of the sky evokes memories of a long ago time when you were so different.

Maybe what I mean is that my stories tend to evolve out of the ideas that I'm exploring. In the fic I'm writing now, I had this core conceit of misunderstanding: people failing to interpret something without knowing they're doing so. In a way, the entire story is about the hard work of moving from misunderstanding to understanding. Getting information, interpreting it, having that interpretation challenged, exploring what that challenge provokes, moving either closer or further from "the truth". Shen Qingqiu misunderstands basically everything, and basically everyone misunderstands Shen Qingqiu. What situations can I make that center on misunderstandings? I also think a lot about the concept of fault--how have people failed in the past, how are they failing in the present, and how do you make up from what you have done wrong? Do you get to just move forward? Are you always at mercy of whatever you did in the past?

So a lot of the plot of the story stems out of ways that I can bring those ideas to the forefront. When I get stuck, I think of different ways these concepts can manifest. Ming Fan's getting a whole plotline because of this. I like my writing, I do, but I’ve really been thinking about the way I write affects what I write. And then in turn the reactions I get to my writing. And then I wrote this whole post because ao3 was down and I couldn’t post my chapter. And now here we are.

Also general DVD commentary on OOC fic--I hit such a roadblock because we're very close to the point of the story where Big Things are going to happen, and I could not decide on exactly how those things should occur. I had about three ideas that I was excited about. None of them were compatible with the others and each would have very different emotional implications. It's hard to write when you're essentially juggling three different drafts. The only way I got myself to commit to one was promising myself that I could always write AUs of my own fic. I honestly doubt I'll get around to doing that, but who knows. Maybe someday there will be a fic of (spoiler warnings ig for things that aren't going to happen) this fic's version of sqq and lbh in the endless abyss together.

Also you would not imagine the amount of thought I've given which conversation should happen before the abyss and where each character relationship needs to be. I have dithered like crazy. And there's so many relationships I'm working with. I'm keeping track of Shen Qingqiu's relationship with: Luo Binghe, Liu Qingge, Yue Qingyuan, Mu Qingfang, Ming Fan, Shen Jiu, Qing Jing Peak as a whole, a couple of OCs, the System, and his concept of self. Mu Qingfang has not been on screen for a minute but it's not because he doesn't haunt my plot outline. Sorry, bud, everyone else just keeps getting more pressing stuff.

[lyrakanefanatic]

hmmmmm

this is an excuse for me to share my controversial tig (and other books) opinions. (BTW IF U HAVE SOME U WANT TO ADD ON PLSSSS DO I LOVED GOING THRU THE COMMENTS OF THAT TT POST AND READING PPLS CONTROVERSIAL OPINIONS SO I NEED MORE)

1. toby hawthorne was a BAAAAD father. (thank you to @beautifulmusicengineer for opening my eyes about this cuz wtf) he came and went as he pleased, (ik he was worried about tobias coming after him… but bae cmon hes all the way in texas and on his deathbed ur fine) compared avery to her DEAD MOTHER every waking second which stopped being cute VERY quickly, and realized that he was a shit father while his daughter was 19 YEARS OLD (eve) and had been invisible all her life, took her into hiding, and then was surprised that she didnt want anything to do with him and didnt like him whatsoever. LIKE BITCH THAT IS THE EQUIVALENT OF TAKING A RANDO OFF THE STREET, STICKING THEM IN UR BASEMENT, AND THEN TELLING THEM UR THEIR FATHER LIKE WTF 😭😭😭

2. i like eve more than i do toby

3. lia zhang wasnt iconic she was honestly just a headache for me and for cassie 😓😓

4. the naturals shouldnt have more books, UNLESS its to pursue that twelve novella plot, AND EVEN THEN THATS JUST THE NATURALS BUT WITH 13 YEAR OLDS 😭😭 im sorry but the series is done. it doesnt need more books. and im sorry but if jennifer were to make a book about agent sterling and agent briggs kids i would actually delete my account and go into hiding because i LOOOVE them but girl. WE DO NOT NEED TO KNOW WHAT UR KIDS ARE DOING, LET THE SERIES REST 😭🙏🙏

5. ill prob read the toby book just bc i get fomo easily and want to be involved with what goes on in this fandom, but we do not need tobys pov whatsoever. like he loves her, we get it, we’ve BEEN getting it every time he sees avery and immediately starts writing a sonnet on how much she looks like her mother

6. i hate michael townsend. like when cassie came back from LITERALLY BEING FUCKING KIDNAPPED AND CHASED AROUND A FOREST BY MICHAEL MYERS II, AND ALL THAT BITCH HAD TO TALK ABOUT WAS HOW SHE CHOSE DEAN????? i was going to throw atrocious hands and considered sentencing him and lia both to a torture chamber xx

7. i hate hate HATE when theres a love triangle snd the author randomly makes one of the people in it WHO WAS BETTER THAN THE OTHER OPTION a TERRIBLE person just because the other option is ass cheeks. no this doesnt apply to grayson and jameson, i actually really liked how jlb made eve come to hawthorne house because it showed avery that grayson wasnt prepared to love anybody aside from emily yet. THIS IS TARGETED TOWARDS LEGENDBORN.

(spoilers for bloodmarked, book two of the legendborn trilogy) THIS BOOK ACTUALLY MADE MY BLOOD BOIL. TELL ME WHY TF SEL (theres a love triangle with a guy named selwyn, a girl named bree, and a guy named nick) IS THERE ALL THE TIME AND ALL HE DOES IS PISS ME THE FUCK OFF. AND OFC NICK IS KIDNAPPED OR SOME SHIT AND HE CAN ONLY TALK TO BREE THROUGH SPIRITUAL FACETIMES??? IDFK AND THEN AT THE END NICK (who was kidnapped for MONTHS and was so skinny he could probably fly away in the wind) RAN AWAY FROM A BATTLE THAT BREE AND SEL WERE FIGHTING AGAINST THIS DEMON OR SMTH, AND THEN BREE USES THAT AS JUSTIFICATION TO KISS SEL (for the millionth time btw, even tho she was dating nick 😁😁) LIKE BITCH WTF???

8. if u cant tell by my last controversial rant opinion, i DDEEESSPPPIISEEEEEE selwyn, and i strongly dislike bree.

anywayssss thats all!!! pls dont kill me you guys 😓😓

[asteriastarr]

Okay, cool! (I nay or may not have read both of your Deuce books in one night) I wanted to request something along the lines of Deuce with a reader who loves pda and is kind of clingy. Maybe it takes place at the beginning of the second movie where they're in the clawditorium. The rest of the group turns around, and they're just kissing yet again. Or you can make up the plot however you like <3

A/n: Sorry this took so long and is also kinda short, i wasnt quite sure where it should go

This might be bad, Idk.

Btw, since you mentioned my deuce books, the next part to my deuce book comes out Friday/Saturday (depending on your timezone)

POV: Y/n and Deuce are clingy.

Y/n wouldn’t say she had attachment issues, per say, she wouldn’t say she’s clingy either, especially not when it comes to her boyfriend, Deuce, like her friends seem to suggest. Of course, she can spend time without him around (she does that- reluctantly- every summer), and she can be around him without touching him, and she can go five minutes without kissing him, but, her boyfriend is so ridiculously attractive, so insanely ethereal, so perfectly perfect, so why would she want to?

And no, Draculaura, she’s not addicted to him, she can stop anytime she wants. But why should she? It’s a two-way street after all, and Deuce seems perfectly content with enabling her.

Besides, after an entire summer with only seeing her most perfectest boyfriend a handful of times, rather than the almost-daily hangouts she’d become accustomed to during the past year of school, one couldn’t possibly blame her for being ‘clingy’… Though her friends seemed to try to.

Take, for example, Draculaura’s end of summer party.

Y/n and Deuce had been sat on Draculaura’s couch, Y/n curled up against him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Deuce’s arm wrapped gently against her shoulder whilst he spoke calmly to Heath, every so often he’d look down and place a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead, and Y/n would adjust herself so she could place a small kiss on his cheek.

Y/n had yet to leave Deuce’s side to talk to any friends, and Deuce, though he was having a conversation with Heath, hadn’t actually made any attempt to leave his ghoulfriend’s side since she’d arrived at the party.

“Are you two going to move from that spot… at all?” Draculaura asked, approaching the two after realising they hadn’t moved.

“Maybe… if a song we like plays.” Y/n murmured.

“You two have the entire school year to be together, we go to a boarding school.”

“Yeah, but during the school year we have to study, there’s not much time to do this.” Y/n pointed out tightening her grip around Deuce out of spite.

“You spent most of last year together.” Draculaura countered, crossing her arms.

“And that was wrong of us, we should’ve been studying.” Y/n hummed, though her voice had no true seriousness to it “Besides, you and I spent most of the summer together.”

Draculaura gave up on trying to convince Y/n of anything for the rest of the party.

At the start of school assembly, Y/n and Deuce weren’t clinging to each other for once, they were sitting calmly side-by-side, listening to the Headmistress speak…

Or, at least that’s what their friends had thought.

The two were sitting behind the rest of their friends, meaning, until they turned around, the two could do pretty much whatever they wanted, throughout the assembly, Y/n made sure at least one part of her body was touching Deuce at all times, which really just meant she had her head on his shoulder and was sitting as close as she possibly could, whilst Deuce was making sure to keep his arm around her shoulder or waist, unless of course one of their friends turned around, in which case they’d quickly separate to prevent hearing their friends complaints or teasing.

Then, when the assembly was almost over, Draculaura turned around to talk to them.

“Y’know I am so proud of you both for not-”

She cut herself off at the sight of Y/n and Deuce kissing, both of whom seemed very happy with themselves.

“-never mind.” Draculaura sighed, turning back around.

After that, the group had collectively decided to just leave Y/n and Deuce alone when it came to the situation of them being clingy with each other.

[thatbuddie]

ok so bear with me here, this theory is based on nothing but vibes and dreams and delusions.

buddie is going canon in 8x12 which is also episode 118 of 911.

i still find it so interesting that they decided to make bi buck canon (i will never ever ever ever get over bi buck canon, btw) in episode 100 of the show. i know that nowadays episodes 100 of shows are not as big as they used to be (mainly because shows rarely make it to them) but they still mean something big. something big enough to warrant press and cakes and such. and what did 911 do with their 100th episode? they made it about bi buck. in a way that forever links the essence of 911 and bi buck forever. and i find that so incredibly beautiful.

it would be logical to argue that episode 8x12, which is episode number 118 of the show that revolves around station 118, has the potential to be something different and special too. i think that the best way to honor this would be by making it a mostly lighthearted team-focused episode. give me bottle episode at the station where the team receives 0 calls all shift, give me an episode from the 3rd person pov of the people that they help on calls and how they view the 118, give me a the 118 gets locked in a room silly episode, just give me something fun and heartfelt that shows the 118 as the family that they are!!! and then.... and then....

give me the first real confirmation of buddie going canon at the end of the episode. and i mean the very last scene of it.

they already connected a big episode (7x04 aka episode 100) with a very big moment that many many fans had been waiting for (bi buck). why not connect the other very core episode of the show (their 118 episode which is nothing really and yet so special of them) with the other big anticipated thing that fans have been dying for for years.

and like y'all, bi buck is important in and of itself and i hope we all know that. but bi buck is so intrinsically connected to buddie too. and i mean both in fandom and in the canon as well. like we know what subset of fandom has been reading buck as bisexual for seasons now and it's not most of the casual viewers (though i hope some did). it was the buddie fandom. and in 7x04 the way that buck's realization arc was so incredibly connected with eddie and their friendship is astounding. like i still can't believe that it went that way. and that is a deliberate choice. there were a thousand ways in which they could have done it and then said "we are putting eddie diaz, evan buckley's best friend and the guy that everyone who wants bi buck ships him with, in the center of it." so it would be very on brand for producers and writers to give us the actual buddie of it all in episode 118 which could be an episode to touch the core of the show -found family, the firefighting aspect, the hope- which at this point includes buddie as well.

now we know NOTHING about s8 right now so this is where more vibes just get added but it would also make sense that it happens in 8x12 because that it the second half of the season. i feel like s8 is gonna start a little "dark" (and i just mean sad) for the 118. gerard is gonna be ruining their lives and making everything wrong. and eddie is gonna be doing badly, y'all. of course he is. so we can use the first 8 episodes to "solve" these things. eddie can finally be in therapy again for more than his ptsd. the 118 can be fighting to get bobby buck. the bucktommy relationship can be worked towards a break up that moves buck to the next stage of where he's going. and then s8b starts. and we have a "lighter" feeling. hopefully chris is back. bobby is back. buck and eddie are single and we can see that there is something there but for now it has been things that still maybe not everyone can catch on to. so then 8x12 happens and BOOM. buck and/or eddie realize/aknowledge/voice the truth of it all: it's always been about buddie. and then we have 6 more episodes in the season to explore that!!! which is a pretty fair number, i think.

so yeah, that is my-based-on-nothing-but-i'm-now-convinced-is-happening theory for a buddie canon confirmation in 8x12 aka episode 118 of 911.