#can you tell i'm a bit snappy today

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

the statements “catra was an extremely traumatized person who craved love and validation from her abusive mother and used unhealthy coping mechanisms because she wasn't taught how to deal with her own trauma” and “catra abused and tortured everyone around her and committed war crimes with no hesitation, and she did not deserve to be forgiven so easily” can and should coexist.

[salbei-141]

Daddy Issues (John Price x Reader)

Masterlist

word count: 1.4k

warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, comfort, suggestive themes, daddy issues, confession, praise, etc.

a/n: I have exams, but this obviously takes priority (if y'all are doing exams, go revise loves, don't be silly and procrastinate like me, I believe in y'all more than I do me)

I can't lie I may be tempted to write a smutty part 2 to this I dunno...Price is a DILF and I know me and you both got daddy issues - I'm writing Captain Price fanfic after all, and you're consuming it, so I feel like part 2 is may be necessary...

Code name: Scarlet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had missed 48% of your shots today, which was well below your usual average accuracy score. You felt yourself getting frustrated knowing you were better than this - you were a good soldier, you had made it to Task Force 141 all by yourself despite the setbacks.

Reloading your pistol, you moved yourself into the correct position and breathed in deeply, then pulled the trigger. You watched as it hit the outermost line on the target. What was with you today? You stood in silence staring at the target feeling dread crawling up your spine - maybe you weren't as good of a soldier as you'd believed you were. You felt yourself remembering the harsh words of your father reminding you that you were just a useless little girl.

Huffing to yourself, you slammed the gun down in front of you, rubbing your hands over your face, feeling that stinging in your throat. Were you really about to start crying? "Get a fucking grip", you muttered to yourself.

That's when you heard the familiar heavy footsteps of your captain. And before you knew it, his voice was coming from behind you, making you shiver lightly with its deep rumble, "You'll have some catching up to do Scarlet - Gaz and Soap are way ahead of you".

You don't know what it was, but the blatant disappointment in his voice had you wanting to hide away and sob - you were supposed to be his best soldier. The frustration and upset overwhelmed your senses, and you turned to face Price with a stoic expression and snappy tone, "Look can you just fuck off? You think you're making this any easier by standing there and breathing down my neck telling me I'm not good enough?".

He looked surprised - you had never snapped at him like this before, especially in front of other soldiers. He then knitted his brows together, staring deeply into your eyes with a blank expression that felt like the calm before the storm and spoke with a low tone, "Get in my office y/n." He watched as your eyebrows furrowed further and your eyes grew darker, as you went to open your mouth and assumedly defy his order, "Now y/n", you shut your mouth instantly and walked to his office as he towed behind while there was a gentle echo of whispers behind you.

As you opened the door to the office you walked into the centre of the room staring outside the window overlooking the premises. You refused to take a seat - it was defiant, but you also didn't want to get comfortable, you knew you'd fucked up royally.

The fire in you just 5 minutes ago had dwindled - you weren't aggressive to your peers, let alone your superior. But you bit at him - you weren't an aggressive person, just overwhelmed - you hadn't meant it.

You stood rigid and on edge - unsure how Price was going to respond to you. You watched as he rounded you, opting to stand tall in front of you, instead of sitting at his desk as you had hoped for.

"Want to explain what the fuck that was?" He stared down at you with piercing eyes that you were struggling to hold your gaze with his, his voice was gruff and stern.

The fire had dwindled in you completely, and you didn't know what to do or how to respond. You stared up at him looking lost - completely bewildered by your own actions, "I'm...sorry"

He watched as your eyes glazed over, he hadn't expected this when you were raising your voice at him mere moments before.

"What?", his brows furrowed confused by your sudden shedding of tears. You weren't an overly emotional individual and he'd never seen you shed tears during some of your most harrowing missions together.

You looked up at him ashamed - feeling like that useless little girl your father had said you always were, "I said I'm sorry John".

The use of his first name changed everything - it felt informal - he felt like he needed to comfort you as a friend, not as your superior.

"Come here y/n", he beckoned you into his arms, letting you wrap your arms around him and softly cry into his chest. He gently ran his fingers through your hair - unsure of what you needed from him right now, but the calming of your breaths reassured him that he was doing enough.

"What’s wrong?”, he pulled back slightly to see your face - your cheeks had flushed red and your eyes remained glossy with tears.

You shift your eyes around him, trying to avoid his gaze and his question. However, you feel as he gently lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his as he waited for an answer.

“I’m just…overwhelmed”, he raised a brow at this - it was obvious that there was more going on.

“Can you tell me why?”, he sounded so gentle - he genuinely wanted to know - he cared.

You continue holding his gaze feeling the newly familiar burn in your throat as you tried to keep your tears at bay - not that it worked as you felt a few escape and trail down your cheeks again, being caught by John's thumb as he wiped them away.

“Do I disappoint you, John?”

"What?", he looked confused - you were probably his most hard-working soldier - getting this far wasn't easy, and it certainly wouldn't have happened if you were a disappointment.

“Do you ever think that I was a poor choice for 141?”, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing - he’d never doubted your abilities since the day he saw your first induction day to the SAS.

"Not at all love, why?"

"You said that I was falling behind...and my father used to tell me if I wasn't the best then I was just another person wasting everyone's time pretending to be something I wasn't, so I should just give up", you held your breath - never having admitted that.

He held your face gently, "Your father's a fucking idiot then love", you chuckled softly and he smiled seeing this - you weren't the same little girl your father would relentlessly put down; if your 10-year-old self could see you know, she'd be so proud of you, you knew that. John was right - your father was a fucking idiot.

"I couldn't be prouder to have you as a member of 141...but you're more than just a soldier love - I think the only time you've disappointed me was the day you got shit-faced with Johnny after your birthday last year"

You stared at him confused, absentmindedly placing your hands over his wrist that held your face, "Why?"

His tone changed - you'd never heard it come from him, "Because I had planned to ask you out -and finally taste those lips of yours"

Your cheeks felt hot as you blushed, shocked by his confession, "Why haven't you said anything?"

He leaned slightly closer to you, smelling the perfume that clung to your skin, "Lost the courage like the idiot I was"

You smile at him, your eyes having dried from the previous tears, "Well don't be an idiot again".

He chuckled lowly, "Don't plan on it love".

He pulled you closer to him, leaning down to meet your lips, kissing you softly, tasting the salt that lingered on your lips. He felt as you gently nipped his lip, feeling the way you smiled into him. He gently pushed you up against his desk, intensifying the kiss, as you both started to feel hotter, your senses overwhelmed by your captain as you felt his body pressed against yours. You gently pushed at his chest, making him pull away and look down at you - your pupils were blown, making him smirk.

"Take me on a date first?"

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead and spoke lowly, "Of course love - as much I want to fuck you against my desk right now, I think I'd rather take you out first and fuck you in my bed, hm?"

You blushed hard at him, "Maybe you'll get to fuck me against your desk another time"

"I hope so love", he smirked stepping away and holding his hand out to you, "Best get back out there before someone comes to check on you thinking I've lost it on you, huh?"

You smiled at him stepping around him to leave, "Good girl", you stopped in your tracks, ready to turn back around.

"Didn't tell you to stop", you sighed as you heard his low laugh as you left his office to go back to your target - everything before being forgotten as your Captain preoccupied your mind for the rest of the day.

[bonny-kookoo]

bonnyyyyy +1 chance!couple were so cute omg does kook win in the tournament? i feel like he'll immediately take oc out on a date to celebrate if he does, gotta flaunt his feathers while he has the chance cuz she also plays the same game

"I'm sorry it's just in the hotel room-" Jungkook fumbles with his words as he lets you inside, hair having just dried from the quick shower he took after his tournament.

He'd won, and he'd expected that, honestly- he'd been well prepared after all, and his teammates were just as good at the game, leading to a relatively easy win. Still, he knows this game will stay in his mind as the hardest he's ever fought- because he'd been sweating buckets, knowing you're somewhere in the crowd, watching him play.

That's one of the main reasons he had to shower before meeting up with you. God knows his shirt was soaking afterwards.

"No problem- you know I could've waited too, it didn't.. have to be today." You reassure him, but he shakes his head, and leads you to the small table in his rather spacious hotel room, windows to the balcony opened, fluttering the see-through curtains a bit.

"No, I wanted to see you right away." He says, and it's clear from the way he licks his lips and plays with his piercings that he's nervous. "Do you..- the menu is on the table there, for room service I mean. We can order something and chat if you like." He offers, and you nod, taking the menu for yourself to read through it.

God, you became even prettier over the years, he realizes. He himself has been trying to take good care of himself, but the constant attack of the blue light from the screens and his honestly surprisingly stressful life sometimes does take a toll on him- his skin currently not the best, and it's making him nervous.

If you both do end up liking each other, and wanting more, will you be able to handle it all? The constant flying around, the constant practice, the hours and hours and hours he has to spend trying to perfect what he already can do- can you handle that? His cranky attitude whenever he fails? His sometimes snappy answers whenever he's irritated about failing at a basic mechanic ingame? His obsession with perfection?

He's not an easy guy. Relationships have constantly failed because of this tricky cocktail of his job and his personality.

"You almost lost the lane, in the first half." You suddenly chirp up, watching him walk towards the table now, sitting down across from you. "They really had you in a chokehold for a little." You giggle, and he nods, smiling to himself.

"They did." He answers.

"But you really gained a lot of momentum during the endgame." You say, resting your cheek in your palm, elbow on the table. "They had no chance."

"I'll take that as a compliment." He chuckles, realizing that you really do seem to know the game quite well, with the way you speak of his performance. It makes him a little giddy.

His past girlfriends didn't game very much. Or if at all, all just very laid back simulation games. Maybe your shared interest could help you both connect better?

"It definitely is." You giggle. "I might pick up some of your odd item choices to make my own games better." You tease, and he dramatically gasps at that, taking the room service menu from you to look at it himself.

"Excuse me, my choices aren't odd. They're very much calculated." He shakes his head playfully, before he looks at you again. "What do you eat?" He wonders, and you pull down the menu he's still holding, to lean closer and tap on the things you want. But when you look up, you realize he's not looking at where you're pointing at all- but instead, his eyes are entirely glued to you, being just a little closer to him than before.

"You're not even looking." You accuse him, but he instead licks his lips, and leans back, trying to appear confident.

"Well, that's a tough thing to do when you're in my face like that." He tells you. "Can't help but look at you instead."

"Huh, I'll lean back and give you space then." You say, suddenly laughing to yourself when you realize that despite all this time having passed, you both really just fell right back into place, as if your friendship never really ended at all. You just feel so comfortable with him despite his physical appearance having clearly matured and changed, it's a little odd.

"What're you laughing about?" He wonders, visibly happy however that you're happy, no matter why.

"Nothing." You shrug. "Just.. Happy. To have run into you again, I mean." You admit, and he grins at that.

"I.. yeah, I feel the same." He nods.

"Do you think.. we could be friends again?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"I'm not sure." He tells you, taking in a deep breath before he shoots his shot. "What.. if I want to be more?" He suggests, and you look at him for a moment, before you lean back into your seat, tilting your head to the side in thought.

"I guess..." You say, before your eyes meet his again. "You think we could work out as a team?" You wonder-

and he instantly gets what you're trying to say, bright grin spreading on his face, as his heart beats faster than ever before.

[steddieas-shegoes]

116. “you wrote me a song?” any rating! 💕💕💕

I really thought you'd go with something so obviously smutty just based off of you breaking my brain so often, but this is such a soft prompt. I made it sweet and also a little smutty (barely) 💖

Rated M | tags: modern au, rockstar eddie, making out, light frottage, fade to black sex

🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶

Eddie being holed up in his music room for hours is normal.

That's what Steve's telling himself, at least.

But ever since the boys had been back from their tour, Eddie had been...weird.

It wasn't necessarily bad, at least not at first, but the last few days had seen Eddie being unusually quiet and withdrawn, his mind clearly elsewhere while they ate breakfast together before he disappeared for most of the day. He would appear again by dinner, usually tired, and always a bit snappy, like he didn't want to be around anyone.

Steve recognized it, but didn't quite place it until today.

He was working on a song.

Eddie was like this the last time a song wouldn't translate from his head to the instruments or the paper.

It didn't make it easier to deal with feeling so alone in their home, especially not when he'd spent a lot of the last four months alone while he was on tour.

"That's it," he said to himself as he stood up from the couch.

He walked to Eddie's music room and knocked on the door, three knocks, pause, two knocks, just like always.

Their version of 'I'm checking on you, I'm worried, let me in.'

Eddie opened the door, dark circles under his eyes.

"Break time," Steve said, grabbing Eddie's hand and pulling him from the room, ignoring the sputtering protests.

"Stevie, no. I gotta-"

"No you don't. You can come with me for a bit."

"No. You don't understand, I-"

"No, you don't understand." Steve stopped and turned to look at him, hands on his hips. "I've been mostly alone for months and I thought having you back would mean I have you back. But you've been closing yourself into that room for days now and I miss you. I miss you."

Eddie's face falls, Steve's hands fall, and they both fall into each other.

Eddie's arms are wrapping around his waist as Steve lets out a sob.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean to make you miss me," Eddie whispered into his ear, kissing his temple, his jaw, his cheek. "I'm right here, love. I'm sorry."

Steve nodded, accepting the apologies, the kisses, the love he was being given. He wasn't ashamed about needing it, not anymore. Eddie made sure he never felt like he couldn't ask for the attention he wanted.

"What's got you so stressed in there?" Steve finally asked, voice muffled against Eddie's shoulder.

"C'mon, I should probably just show you," Eddie pulled away, tugging Steve back towards the music room.

Once inside, Steve was led to the couch and given a peck on the lips.

Eddie sat down at his keyboard and cracked his knuckles.

"I've been working on something since we were on tour, but I thought the reason I couldn't get further was because of my environment. But I've been home for days and it's not getting better. Every time I think I'm onto something, I lose it or it doesn't come out right or it doesn't fit with the rest," Eddie explained, gesturing wildly.

Steve watched with wide eyes. He always loved watching Eddie's passion flow through his limbs the same way it flowed through his words. It was one of the things that made him fall in love with him.

"Show me what you've got so far, then," Steve gestured for him to start playing.

Eddie wasn't one to hold back, but he hesitated now.

It only lasted a moment though, his fingers starting to flow over the keyboard and his voice starting to sing.

It was beautiful, and nothing like what Steve had expected, nothing like what Corroded Coffin normally performed.

The words were romantic, hidden behind a yearning, something Steve hadn't heard Eddie write since before they were together.

And then he sang a line that would've knocked Steve to his knees if he'd been standing.

"It's with a curse I leave you, it's with a curse I love you I can't find my way back to you tonight"

Steve immediately flashed back to one night in the middle of the tour, when Eddie had called him right after a show, something he only did when the show didn't go as well as he hoped.

He'd complained about the storms delaying their start time nearly an hour, and how Gareth was offbeat for half of a song, and how the fans didn't seem as into it as usual. And when he went to hang up, he said "I wish I could find my way back to you tonight."

Steve had been almost asleep by that point, but the sung line sparked the memory.

Steve stood and walked over to Eddie, cupping his face in his hands and swiping his thumbs across his cheeks.

"You found your way back to me now, though, baby. You always do," he said.

Eddie pulled his hands from the keyboard and pulled Steve down into his lap.

"I needed you then. I started writing this that night. Sorry it's not finished yet."

"You...you wrote this for me?" Steve asked, realizing now that there was a reason why he used that line.

Steve wasn't stupid, but sometimes he was a little slow.

"Yeah, sweetheart. I know you miss me when I'm gone, but you have no idea how much I miss you."

Steve knew, or thought he knew, that Eddie missed him. They talked every night before shows, and texted on Steve's lunch breaks and when he got off of work. But it always felt like Eddie got to stay busy enough not to think about missing him as much.

But this tour had been the first time Steve couldn't take much time off of work, only being able to attend a handful of shows throughout.

Normally, he spent more than half the tour with him.

Steve kissed him, hard.

Eddie grunted, surprised at the sudden intensity of Steve's lips on his, but didn't pull away. His hands gripped Steve's hips, leaving bruises as a reminder that Steve wouldn't actually need.

Eddie would be home with him for months now, enjoying the holidays together, visiting their friends and family as time allowed. He wouldn't have to leave for another tour until their next album was released the following year.

They had time.

But Steve's lips acted as if they only had tonight, his stomach already fluttering with need and anticipation of having those needs fulfilled.

Because Eddie would. Eddie always would.

He may not always be there, he may have to miss him, but he always got what he needed in the end.

The kissing turned messy, lips wet and spit on the corners of their mouths, desperate to keep sharing and tasting each other.

"Want you," Steve panted, bucking his hips forward so that his hard length finally got friction against Eddie's. "Please."

"Here?" Eddie asked, breathless.

"Anywhere, everywhere, doesn't matter."

"Oh my god. That's perfect!" Eddie pulled away, turning to the notepad on the sheet music stand.

Steve smacked his arm.

"I swear, Munson, if you don't focus on my extremely hard dick soon-"

"You're anywhere, everywhere But not here, not tonight"

Steve melted.

"That's good, Eds. It's really good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Steve kissed his forehead, smiling into it as he felt Eddie's shoulders relax. "Now, will you please fuck me on this bench?"

Eddie laughed and bit his shoulder.

"If you insist."

[anyamaris]

It's You

Title: It's You

Word Count: 2540

Summary: Getting lost at an Ateez concert has an unexpected experience you'll treasure forever.

Pairing: Choi San x F!Atiny!Reader

Trope-Idol AU/Angst

Warnings: Concert stuff, a bit of vulgar language, a bit angsty...I think that's it?

Tags: @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions @changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @starillusion13 @minki-moo @woosanbby @frenchkisstheabyss

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

A/N: I'm dedicating this to @sanjoongie because you helped me talk through this and you know what you did 🤍💜🤍It's short and a bit rushed but I had the idea the other night and wanted to get it out of my head. I hope you all enjoy!

The air around you is humid as you watch Ateez wave and walk off stage.

Sound check was entirely worth it, though you’d waited in lines for hours.

Despite the disorganization, the chaos, the other random not so pleasant events building to this moment.

Despite it all, the moment you got to see Ateez walk out onto that stage, in person, right in front of you?

It was all worth it.

You look around the enormous venue from your place on the floor, at all the Atiny gathered around talking.

Sweat beads on your brow and one of the girls you met today smiles at you as she fans you both.

“I’m going to go get some water and possibly stop at merch, did you want anything?” she asks.

Touched at her offer, you nod.

“Yes, please! Can you get me a Yeosang picket?”

She nods as she stands, “Of course!”

“You have my insta, message if you need anything!” You wave as she wanders off up to the higher floors.

One of the best things about concerts was meeting all the fans, at least for you that was a massive part of it.

Turning to see what your friends are doing, you try to join the conversation but they seem to have their own thing going on.

Fighting down the feeling of third wheeling, you just slap on a smile and wander around to meet some more new people.

The screens keep randomly coming on with some videos to tease everyone, making you all think the concert is about to start, but it’s not quite time yet.

After what seems like ages, you finally spot your new friend walking back down the arena steps, pickets in hand.

Excited to see her, especially since the concert is about to start soon, you watch her approach as you wave to her.

Yet when she presents your two other friends with pickets and nothing more, your stomach drops.

“Oh…they didn’t have anymore Yeosang?” you ask, fighting back the sadness overcoming you.

Oh well, maybe next time, you think.

“Oh….” the younger girl says, looking between your two friends who now hold their own biases.

“You didn’t say you wanted one?” One of them throws in and you feel your heart plummet.

“I…I did…when you left…” You tell the younger girl who’d gone.

“Oh…when I messaged they said they were the only ones who wanted them….” She says, regret washing over her face.

“It’s okay.” you say, fighting back the way your throat clenches and tears prick your eyes.

“Maybe next time.”

After a bit of back and forth and waving it all off, you turn to just try to focus on the show.

It didn’t matter if you didn’t get a silly picket, really.

You were here, at Ateez.

But still…

A hand on your arm brings you out of your sad thoughts.

“Hey, I’m so sorry….I know you said Yeosang when I left but when I messaged them…they said just the two….”

Glancing at your two friends who were back to conversing, you just shake your head.

You had asked her when she was going…and they hadn’t asked you at all.

They are just excited to see each other, catching up.

Things you tell yourself over and over as whenever you’ve attempted to join the conversation just earns you a tight smile, a nod, a snappy retort that makes you feel as if you’ve butted in.

So you just retreat into your own mind, ignoring the overwhelming feeling of heartbreak threatening to ruin your experience.

“Really, it’s fine. I don’t think they were listening when I said it anyhow.” you tell the poor girl, who looks like she’s about to cry.

You can’t help but glance back at the stairs, head spinning now.

For some reason, you know you don’t need the damn picket, but…

Now it feels like you need it to stop your mind from imploding.

“I have some time…you know what…I’m going to go get one.” you finally announce.

The younger girl’s sad face perks up and she nods, “I’ll come with you!”

“No, it’s okay, we have twenty minutes and I don’t want you to miss anything.” You tell her.

It’s not her fault, and she doesn’t need to make up for anything.

She hands you a Yunho pc with a smile and gestures for you to follow her.

“Really, I’ll at least show you where to go. And have a Yunho cause I feel really bad.” She says.

Not wanting to argue, you just smile, touched that she’s willing to accompany you.

It sounds painfully selfish in your head, but it was nice to feel like someone cared about you, even for a moment.

This wasn’t how your first kpop concert was supposed to feel.

You’d wanted a week building up watching Ateez, eating and breathing them.

Squealing with your friends over the upcoming show, just being a completely ridiculous fangirl.

It had been anything but that.

All you can do now is make sure the rest of your night was happy.

Just focus on Ateez! You think to yourself.

That’s what brought you here.

All the other Atiny you’ve met have been amazing, spending the time you’ve waited in line and after soundcheck talking about your biases and what you’re looking forward to.

Finally getting into the long merch line, you wave off the younger girl as she returns downstairs and turn to wait.

Here too, you find yourself chatting to other Atiny, especially when the videos keep coming on to tease at the show starting, watching everyone in line around you panic.

“Please…please please….” you mutter, watching the merch sell down, eyes on your Yeosang picket.

As you draw closer, you hear the music start again, mere minutes for the start of the actual show.

Heart pounding, you can’t help but grin as the man pulls down your picket and you scan your card in record time.

“Yes!” you say out loud, feeling silly, but then sprinting off to get back down.

Suddenly, you look around, watching the Atiny at the general admission seats all file out to see the show.

Yet, it feels like you’ve gone far past wherever you came out.

“Uhhh…” you hum aloud, turning in a circle to look around.

Heart pounding as you hear the music growing louder, you try to fight back panic as you find a staff member.

“Where are the elevators?” you ask, and nod as you try to comprehend directions.

Yep, you’d run right past them in your haste.

Feeling stupid, you turn and run back, randomly stopping a staff member to make sure you’re heading the right way.

After three times, you’re finally directed to some nondescript doors and push through, a sense of relief washing over you as you see the elevators.

“C’mon…” you mumble, watching some people come through behind you.

The door dings and opens, and the people behind you file in.

“Which floor?” one of them asks.

“Ummm..”

Good question, you think.

“Down, maybe P1?” You tell her.

She shakes her head, halting the door from closing.

“This is going up, you’ll have to catch the next one.”

Shit.

Nodding, you exit off so they can go, apologizing, then turning to press the button down.

Stop making mistakes cause you’re in a hurry, you chastise yourself.

Suddenly, everything building up the whole week feels heavy.

The feeling of not being wanted around, third wheeling.

The sense of being alone in an arena packed with people.

Heart breaking even while your favorite group is about to step onto stage in moments.

Am I going to miss this?

What floor am I even supposed to be on?

Your mind races, getting on an elevator alone and hitting a button for one of the lower floors.

It feels like hours, even though it’s only seconds before the doors open and you race out, finding yourself in a long hallway.

“Shit…” you grumble, clutching your picket to your chest.

Turning around, you make your way back to the elevators and try another floor.

Finding a moment of clarity, you message your friend.

“I have no idea where I am…”

You doubt they will be looking at their messages though.

Your heart drops as you realize you actually may be lost, stepping out onto a floor that looks just like the rest.

You run halfway down, heart sinking as you realize you’re going to miss it.

You’re going to miss Ateez.

And no one is likely even wondering where you are.

It’s not supposed to be like this.

You feel your eyes burn, not even worried anymore about your makeup as you swipe at your eyes.

Picket clutched to your chest, hair damp from the heat, crying in a stupid hallway all alone at an arena packed with people.

How fucking ridiculous.

A sob escapes you before you can stop it, doing your best to collect yourself because crying isn’t going to-

“Hey…you’re not supposed to be down here!”

The male voice startles you, heart skipping as both panic and relief fill you.

Maybe he can help you find where you’re supposed to be.

Maybe you’re about to get kicked out for going somewhere you’re not supposed to be.

“Calm down.” You hear another voice, then your heart about jumps right out of your throat.

The security guard turns to look behind him and take in the sight that threatens to overwhelm your poor Atiny heart.

Choi San.

He rests a hand on the guard's arm, then turns to you with a worried look on his face.

“Are you..okay?” He asks softly, and you feel your cheeks heating at your appearance.

Shit, crying in front of Choi San….

“I…” you swallow, blinking to try to make your brain work, “I’m lost.”

“Ah…well…our friend can help you find your way. Right?” He says, turning his dimpled smile to the guard.

“Of course.” The man says, immediately coming to direct you back to the elevators.

Embarrassed beyond belief, yet feeling surreal at being this close to San, you can only nod your head and mumble an apology and a thank you to him.

“Don’t cry, Atiny. Just look at me and smile, okay?” He calls out, waving to you as he rushes back to where some voices are calling to him.

You can only nod, the image of his crinkled eyes and adorable smile setting your heart back on the right path.

Before you get to the elevators, you hear his voice once more behind you.

“And Yeosang is mine!”

The elevator door close, and you look down at your picket where Yeosang’s face is clutched in your arms.

The guard just chastises you lightly for getting lost but you can only smile as the doors open to the correct floor and you step out, finally rushing to find your friends on the floor.

Holy shit…Choi San?

If nothing else happens tonight, this is a memory you’re going to hold with you forever.

You smile at your picket as you join your friends, the crowd erupting as you watch the show start.

Everything is a blur once it begins.

Every single one of them is amazing, and the entire show feels surreal.

You’d told yourself that it’s just a show but each member seems larger than life.

Wooyoung’s solo stage, each unit song….Cyberpunk…HALAZIA?

Give the cameraman an award, you think.

And when Mingi says fucking jump, despite the sweat coating your skin and your aching knees, you fucking JUMP.

Each one comes over and waves during certain moments, and it’s of course your own personal delulu but it feels like sometimes they look right at you.

You beam with pride, hoping every Atiny around you feels as if they are looking directly at them because damn this is a wonderful feeling.

But there’s a moment, when San makes his way to your part of the stage.

You swear that he looks right at you.

He opens his mouth as he points and waves, just like the rest of them do, but you swear he winks at you.

No way, he definitely didn’t notice you in a crowd of people based on a moment of meeting.

But when he touches his eye and runs it down his face, then shakes a finger at you as if to say, “Don’t cry!”

…well your heart just bursts with happiness.

As with all good things, the show seems to fly by and before long you’re filing out.

You’ve gotten such good videos, so many good pictures.

You can’t wait to go through them all.

Watching your friends talk, you find yourself waiting outside the venue for some of their other friends as you just let the evening swirl in your head.

The post concert rush was washing over you, the ache settling in, the reality of it all.

But it wasn’t a bad thing.

Sure you still felt left out.

Of course your body was covered in disgusting sweat, makeup probably looking like some halloween costume, clothing soaked through from dancing and jumping around.

I hope I don’t stink, you think to yourself.

It’s a long drive back and by the time you finally get to your friend's house and head to bed, you swear you pass out before you even close your eyes.

The next day, you wake early and head back to real life.

You’re now deemed the “cutest toad” by some friends that you send voice messages to and you can’t help but laugh because yeah….

You’d screamed and sung your heart out.

There was only a small little croak left of your voice.

Life goes on of course, but you enjoy the time you get to spend uploading your pictures and videos to everyone.

Instagram, Tumblr, sending to friends and your little groups.

It was a blur, a memory but you choose to keep the good ones and ignore the small little things that peppered your heart with sadness.

It’s only days later, when the excitement is dying down that something happens that you’re not expecting.

You hadn’t mentioned your encounter to your friends, for a few reasons.

First, when you’d tried to mention you’d gotten lost and cried, they’d just brushed you off and you swear they weren’t actually listening.

Second, well….somehow you wanted to keep this experience to yourself.

It even sounded fake in your own mind.

And besides, San had said maybe three things to you?

It wasn’t that big of a deal.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Really though, you know it’s because it’s your secret now.

A silly, secret thing that happened because your stupid ass got yourself lost.

It was all fading into the little memory box in your heart until it happened.

Of course your posts have gotten plenty of likes and some comments.

But what you don’t expect is the comment you are currently staring at, slack jawed as you look at your phone.

No way.

It’s not really….

Is it?

Your brain seems to seize as you read the comment a few more times.

You hadn’t said a word to anyone.

It had to be him.

“You’re not crying, right?”

Choi….San???

[nausikaaa]

Six Sentence Sunday

thanks for tagging me @run-for-chamo-miles @that-disabled-princess and @orange-peony!

classicstober 2024's prompts have been announced and i'm super excited because it's historical figures! my obsession with Roman non-fiction and biographies has finally paid off!

i thought it would be a good opportunity to jumpstart my writing brain by writing lots of short and snappy things. and so today, i've written 1000 or so words for Regina of South Shields, who i've had the pleasure of visiting!

i'm about to ramble, so i'm putting it under a cut. also warning, i've included photos of a tombstone and a human skeleton. if you just want to read the six sentences and not see them, scroll fast right to the bottom.

so, this is Regina. or rather, her tombstone, discovered by builders in 1878, and a reconstruction of how it might have looked when it was erected. if you haven't heard of her, which is understandable, she was a British woman from modern day St Albans (near London) during the Roman occupation of Britain. she was sold as a slave (did her family need money? was she born a slave? we don't know) and bought by a man named Barates, from Palmyra, a city in modern day Syria, who was either a soldier or at least travelling with the Roman army. they moved to a garrison close to Hadrian's Wall in what is now South Shields in the north east, and Barates fell in love with Regina. he freed her and they got married.

her tombstone is mostly important because it tells us that a Syrian man was in Britain during this time, and since her tombstone has Palmyrene script on it, and the chances he engraved his own wife's tombstone are slim, there was likely at least one other Syrian person who could engrave headstones around. which suggests that there was a whole group! the name of the Roman fort in South Shields was Arbeia, which could even mean "the place of the arabs."

it's estimated that a third of people in Britain during the Roman occupation were long distance migrants, and most were not slaves, as is often assumed. Ivory Bangle Lady, who I have also visited in York Museum and who lived around the same time, is believed to have come from Africa. and she was a wealthy free woman!

but what about Regina? well, we know she was from the Catuvellauni tribe, and that she died aged 30. we can assume she spun wool as she's depicted doing so on the tombstone, which was a respectable pastime for Roman women, and she's shown wearing lots of jewellery, so she probably led a comfortable life.

but we don't know how she felt about her marriage, as her tombstone is in Barates' words. did she love him back, or was she under duress to marry him to improve her own prospects? did they have children? did she have friends in Arbeia? did she have to learn Aramaic or Latin to communicate with Barates, or did he know Celtic? we simply don't know. so much of her personality has been lost to time.

so my challenge was to write something that pieces together various possibilities to create what could be an approximation of who Regina was. to give her some life, a voice, and at least a bit of agency.

okay. enough preamble. here's six lines:

I had grown and reached my twentieth year, and as the dark circles beneath my eyes disappeared and the warmer months led me to abandon my woollen cloak, I noticed men's behaviour towards me change. I am not the type to play at being coy- I knew they found me attractive. With my white skin, red hair, and pale blue eyes, I was exotic to them. I stood out.

I noticed Barates' behaviour change too. I realised I had a choice to make.

if you want to know more about Regina, my main source is this podcast by Mary Beard, but i also took inspiration from the book Roman Woman by Lindsay Allason-Jones.

tags: @forabeatofadrum @j-nipper-95 @artsyunderstudy @prettygoododds @confused-bi-queer @imagineacoolusername @ic3-que3n @aristocratic-otter @larkral @hushed-chorus @ivelovedhimthroughworse @shemakesmeforget @fatalfangirl @ebbpettier @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @cutestkilla @youarenevertooold @alexalexinii @shrekgogurt @bookish-bogwitch @thewholelemon @supercutedinosaurs @shutup-andletme-go @theearlgreymage @ileadacharmedlife @alleycat0306 @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @comesitintheclover @noblecorgi @roomwithanopenfire and @blackberrysummerblog

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here~

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.5<< >>Ch.7

Notes: Miguel is enjoying your presence with each passing day. Realizations is slowly creeping through.

Chapter 6: Tell Me that You Love Me...

Word count: 2.1K

Three weeks passed when you first officially hung out.

Six weeks when Miguel's “tabs” turned into genuine daily conversations ranging from text messages to phone calls that he never imposed on missing.

Nine weeks when things began to take a turn.

Over the course, you two have gotten closer. Miguel would sneak from his workstation over to your humble abode at any chance that was available. 

It eventually became a routine, a regime. Wednesday nights were the ceremonial ‘hangout days,’ as you had every Thursday off.

And every Wednesday, Miguel had justifications on precisely why he should not be troubled on that particular day.

“I need to double check if the code for stabilizing dimensions is up to date.” Liar.

“I'm performing augmented machinery work for the portal watches. They've been malfunctioning for me.” Bullshit.

“I'm tired.” That was sort of true, but it never slowed him down before.

Whenever someone even attempts to debate or raise any doubts, he flares, defensively striking more so than usual. It became a phrase around the coven of Spider-people.

“Be careful; it's ‘Snappy Wednesdays’ for Miguel.” Would be telephoned throughout.

It vexed him to no end. If he wanted to remain unbothered, he should just be permitted to do so with no hassle. But no, it's never that easy for him. It was never easy until he crossed that threshold. 

When he steps through your door, the stress and the unease lingers yet vanish. A strange balance.

“Are they still giving you hell about leaving?”

You poured the boiled noodles into a cauldron as Miguel was sprawled out on your couch, his sheathed claws harshly massaging his temples.

“Yes, and today was no better. I swear if I hear one more, ‘but are you sure you want to leave? It's a scary world out there,’ I'm going to lose it ¿Por qué tengo que ser uno para ponerlos todos? ¿Por qué me estoy plagando de estos idiotas?”

You peer up at the grouchy man and smile. 

“I just don't understand why they're not used to it by now. I mean, maybe the first or second time it'll be weird, but the fifth or sixth? It's just a routine at that point. Or maybe that's just me. I can't speak for everyone.” You giggle, dumping the spaghetti in the meat sauce, and begin to stir.

“No, you're right. I just wish they would get used to it. Having to endure this shit is mind-numbing.”

You hobbled over to him with a giant bowl of pasta for him and a decent portion for you.

“Well, I hope there's some solace here. Even if it's just a smidgen.” You wormed your way right next to him before handing him his portion, crossing your legs on the sofa.

“Trust me when I say there's peace within these walls.” Miguel twirled the fork around.

“As peaceful as an apartment building can get, so a good forty-five percent.”

“Why so low?”

“Have you ever heard neighbors going at it in the middle of the night? I mean, they're certainly finding solace in each other! There's other factors, of course, but that's the biggest.”

A shared laugh broke out as you sighed in unison.

A comforting quietude rested; the only sounds being made were the clanking and clattering of the forks against the bowls.

“I've been meaning to ask, what's the name of the store you work for?” He filled in a little bit of space between you two.

“Huh, I never told you? I swore I did.”

Miguel shook his head.

“Guess I've gotten so comfortable around you, my brain assumes I did tell you.”

That rocked Miguel. You felt comfort in his presence? Was it an obligation or authentic? He disrupted that train of thought and briskly attuned his focus back to you.

“Alright, are you ready for the name?” You perched your dish on the table, relaxing your palms on your full belly.

“Sí, tan listo como siempre lo estaré. Go for it.”

“Adequate Antique Antics.”

Miguel's eyes flickered as his brain made an effort to process what you said.

“Adequate anti- what now?”

“Adequate Antique Antics. Bit of a tongue twisting mouthful, isn't it?”

He nodded in agreement, setting his bowl next to yours.

“Eso estuvo delicioso. So why did she name the store that?”

Your face heated at the compliment he gave you. He was just expressing that he enjoyed the spaghetti. Yet it made you giddier than how you normally would react.

“I'm glad you enjoyed it. And she didn't pick it–a family-owned business. You know how that goes.” Settling more onto the couch, minding the glass bowls, you prop your feet and free a displeasing sigh.

“She's been in a fight with her parents to change the name ever since I can remember. And oh my gosh, I'm still hearing about it until this day!”

Miguel blinked as he waited for you to continue. A week or so ago, he picked up on your facial expressions when you were done speaking. 

And you clearly weren't.

“For nearly three and a half years I've been working there, she somehow manages to bring up the argument for the name every day without fail. And here I'm thinking I'm persistent, but my goodness.”

Miguel snickered at your heated explanation. “Ronnie sounds very vehement.”

“I prefer hard-headed. But that works too.”

You grin at each other as you pretend to readjust yourself, scooting closer to him.

“I'm weirdly tempted to meet this Ronnie and see what she's like in person.”

You blew a raspberry before flinging a hand over your mouth. You possibly got too comfortable around him. 

Miguel lifted a brow at that reaction from you. He's never seen you do that before.

“Ah! I'm sorry. An atypical response I get sometimes. Just a slip of the tongue.” You cringed at the unintentional pun.

“I think it's adorable.” Now it was Miguel's turn to wince. The difference was that he hid it well.

You squirmed in your seat before mentally scolding yourself.

“Oh, thank you. That's very sweet of…”

You trailed off, gazing into his hypnotizing, vermillion eyes. Miguel returned the stare, taking in every part of your face. 

Every inch, from your eyes, your nose, your lips, and more. How your skin gleamed–even if the lights were dimmed in your apartment, it still managed to make you shine ever so brightly.

Dazing back simultaneously, you both spun your heads towards the front. Your heart pounded so hard that even your stomach felt it. Miguel controlled his breathing, his cheeks heating up. 

He couldn't. He shouldn't.

“Um, but yes, if you want to. Ronnie can be a bit of an intense menace, but she means well. Well, as well as one can mean.”

“That's how I feel about Peter.” Miguel grumbled. Even speaking his name causes him to instinctively grouch about it.

“From the stories you told about him, putting those two together under one roof?” You shuddered just at the thought of it.

“She can't be as bad as Peter.”

You gave Miguel a tentative look.

“It's that bad?”

You heavily nodded your head. “Minus the baby.”

“Funny how we both have someone who causes some sense of hassle.”

You gave a crooked smile. “It's a curse but also a blessing. Because at the end of the day, we know they just want the best.”

“For themselves?”

“Yes, but also in general. Though I don't fully agree with the methods she uses, Ronnie will always have my back. For example, if ever I need a day off for an emergency, I know I will receive it. Or when she told me I get every Thursday off. I was skeptical at first, but no, she kept her word. I only had to come in one Thursday because it was so heavily swamped, but I did not mind whatsoever. She goes out of her way to help me, and if she ever needs something, I'm willing to sacrifice to help her out. And I'm sure if you ever required anything, Peter would be there for you, and in return, you would do the same for him.”

Miguel could only gape.

“Heck, that even goes for us. Remember the first time you slept over? I told you I wouldn't let you suffer because you also helped me.” You laid your head back and stared at the ceiling.

“I personally like to think it's a give and give, with an occasional receive. Self-sacrifice? Maybe that's what I'm thinking of. I don't mind giving, but I'm also human, so if one is glad to lend more, then I'm going to return that favor, if not extra.”

“Some may see it as a beneficiary sort of deal. I helped this person out, so I should get something in return. Even though we humans are very reliant on one another in certain ways, some can use it for selfish needs.” You began to leisurely drum on your stomach.

Jutting up from your laid-back posture, you rotated your body toward him.

“I'm so sorry for the rambling. I hope anything I said made even a lick of sense.”

Your voice was slightly panicked before Miguel placed his hand on your arm, making sure to retract his claws.

“No, you're fine. I understood what you were alluding to.”

Your eyes landed on his fingers. They were calloused against your skin. He was always gentle around you.

“You aren't necessarily afraid to give and get nothing in return. But you're willing to go beyond and above for those who also have your best interests in mind.”

“Yeah! Wow, you summed up my spiel so easily. It might be that super duper smart spider brain.”

You giggled as his shoulders shook with a breathless laugh.

“Si. My spider brain is too highly advanced for many common people.”

You stared at him. He meant for it to come off as a joke. The problem was that his delivery was stern and dry. It almost sounded as if he suggested it as more of a statement.

He began to tighten until your face creased buoyantly. “It undoubtedly is for me. I'm going to assume jokes don't come easy for you?”

He slumped, and his jaw slackened. “I've been told I'm not funny.”

“You give me more sarcasm vibes than jokey ones. And I do enjoy a good sarcastic reply.”

You nudge him mischievously, garnering a joking eye roll. 

You two carried on your conversation until, at one point, Miguel self-reflected while you went to the shower.

Miguel bit his bottom lip as his mind raced to the earlier conversation. He sacrifices, but does he self-sacrifice? He gives up so much for the others, but do they even acknowledge his efforts? He’s aware they won't do the same, but would it be different if it were someone closer? 

It never crossed his mind how much he exactly does. The trillions that he's keeping safe. He's willing to let a few things go for them.

The one he truly wanted to keep safe is gone. He would be ready to give up everything just for her.

Miguel got startled as your voice sprang from the corner.

“You know what I was thinking–you should visit the antique shop! It would be fun to show you all the vintage items scattered!”

Sensing that there was something off, you sped over to him.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

Miguel bowed his head. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just lost in thought.”

“Well, if you ever wanna talk about it, just let me know, okay?” You rubbed his shoulder, kneading it some to relieve a bit of pressure. “Know I'm here for you.”

That smile. That tranquil, patient smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat. Those considerate sparkling eyes that have him believe things are okay, even if it's just for a split second.

Would he give everything up for you as well?

A string breaks loose.

He decided to not dwell on it anymore.

“What were you saying before you came in?” He smoothly switched the conversation.

“Oh! You should visit the shop. If you want to or have time, of course. We're open from nine until seven.”

“I'll try, but I don't know if I really can during the day.”

You swallowed your disappointment and waved your hand. “Remember, just an offer! I'll probably still be working there for the next few years anyway, so I'm sure we'll still get time in the future.”

He was shocked. You would still want to be around him? He doesn't believe he's particularly special.

And there are just too many wrongs within him that would turn anyone away.

“Yeah, I will see.”

You flopped yourself on the sofa as you proceeded to converse until Miguel had to leave.

“We will see.” He murmured, staring up at your apartment complex, and trudged away.

[joohanisms]

yk i always think about how irl sex is sometimes Not Great or things go wrong, be it with someone you love or not. and i'm a real-sex-in-smut warrior so

things going wrong <3

(half written before i went ia)

(hi this is VERY badly done like fr only jungsus was written properly)

gunil

surprise ur bleeding

jungsu

you're getting fucked soooo good.

you're in missionary position, jungsu is kissing you stupid and your hands are tangling in his hair. it's a very late night, the only source of light is the moonlight peeking through the blinds, and the only thing that can be heard is the panting and whispering of each other's names.

"baby, i'm so close. are you? can you cum with me?" he buries his face on your shoulder, mouthing sloppily at the skin. you're a little far behind, but that's nothing that can't be fixed.

you grab one of his hands, guiding it towards your clit. "just need a little bit more, please, please, i'm nearly there."

his pretty fingers start immediately playing with you, with the pressure and pace just the way you like it – fine, maybe a tad too desperate for how far off orgasm you are, but can you blame him? you'll get there either way.

"i'm too close, i won't make it – i can't hold it much longer, can i cum, please? i swear i won't stop, i'll make you cum too, just – please, baby?" jungsu's voice is getting strained, and you've been with him long enough to know that yes, he will make you cum. he's never left you hanging, and today will not be the first time he does.

"go on. i'm right behind you, just– don't stop, please."

well, famous last words.

he cums into the condom with a shudder, his fingers stuttering on your clit. his voice is heavenly in your ears, moaning like he's just ascended to a higher plane. he rides it out, slowing down a bit, but soon after he's jackhammering into you, middle finger pressing down on your nerves and mouth back on yours.

he's been at it for 15 seconds at most, when you feel a sudden warmth inside you. it's weird, it's never happened before and you're damn sure it did not come from you. jungsu apparently notices as well, seeing as he freezes immediately, leaving your mouth and looking at you with wide eyes.

you stare at each other in complete silence.

"was that–" you can't even finish your sentence before he's pulling out and looking at you with an expression not too far from horror.

you look at his cock, and your suspicions are confirmed. hanging rather pathetically from his still hard length, covered in cum, is a piece of rubber very clearly torn.

"oh my god," is all that leaves his mouth.

your heart is beating out of your chest, and any hope of cumming tonight leaves your body.

it would've been fine if you were, well, on birth control. and jungsu is very aware of how much you're not on birth control. his mouth is still open in an 'O', his gaze keeps flitting between your cunt and his quickly softening dick.

"fuck." you get up and rush to the bathroom, leaving your boyfriend to fumble after you.

he very hastily removes the damned condom, throwing it haphazardly on the trashcan beside your desk. he's a little too freaked out for anything other than leaning against the closed bathroom door and apologizing.

"i'm so sorry, oh my god, i'm sorry, i should've pulled out, i–"

"jungsu, calm down." is the snappy response he receives before the sound of the toilet flushing is followed by the door opening and him nearly falling to the bathroom floor. "it'll be fine."

the poor boy is clearly spiraling over thoughts along the lines of "what if i gave them some medically undiscovered sti" to "i don't even have the money for a child right now". you take pity on him, placing your hands on his cheeks to get his attention.

"you're clean, right?"

he sputters, "of course i am! i'd never try to fuck you– i'd tell you if i wasn't!"

"then it's fine. we'll go to the drugstore first thing in the morning and get the plan b. and, i don't know, pray it works." his eyes widen and you regret the playful quip. "i'm kidding, baby. it'll work fine."

"but what if it–"

"jungsu, it'll work. if it wasn't effective they wouldn't sell it." as much as you're a little pissed and anxious about the situation, he looks way worse. you peck his lips, pulling him into the bathroom with you. "you're still paying for it, though."

he chuckles, seeming a little lighter about the situation. "of course. it's always cheaper than a baby."

"there's always abortion, too. or would you want to keep it?" you start the shower – you're clearly not getting that orgasm you were almost close to – jumping as he slaps your ass.

"stop talking about the nonexistent pregnancy. you're making me nervous."

"sorry." you smile softly at him, pulling him under the spray with you. "we'll figure out some kind of birth control. i'm scared you won't ever fuck me again after this."

jungsu laughs, grabbing the shampoo. "you bet i won't. this is enough to turn me abstinent."

"you still owe me an orgasm, though?"

"then you better get acquainted with your fingers." you slap his shoulder as he cackles, and maybe, just maybe, it'll actually be fine.

jiseok

his fucking shoes won't come off / y'all fell off the bed

seungmin

he says something trying to be sexy and you can only laugh

hyeongjun

yall are drunk and he cant get hard noooooo

you're giggling while hyeongjun is attached to your neck, probably leaving marks that will take you forever to cover up the next day.

youve both drunk too much and wine usually Does give people the hornies soooo

you were out and left for the sole reason of fucking when yall get home

didnt even make it to the bed the couch will do

ur underwear is down so quick you can only feel his fingers spreading the wetness around while rubbing at your clit

in a minute he has a finger in you curling it justttt the right way

obv you cant let him do everything by himself. his soft cock is pulled out as you massage it

you're drunk so time loses meaning kinda

so after a while he puts another finger in and all is well bc you just . don't realise his status hasn't changed

"omg babe stop stop that hurts wtf"

he's.. not hard ?

"are you okay?"

"i am i just . uh. you were on my dick for a little too long"

"tf you mean by that ? you're not getting hard .."

"well i fucking know it's my cock?"

"damn okay dont snap at me?"

"sorry i just . i don't know what happened"

"maybe lets change positions? we can 69 i'll suck you off"

spoiler it didn't work

"babe are u ok like fr "

"i can't get hard . omg i can't get hard wtf i'm so sorry i knew how much you wanted to-"

"babe wtf don't apologize? that happens it's nbd you can fuck me in the morning"

"yeah but i wanted to fuck u now? 'm sorry babe wtf this is so embarassing"

"shut up ? its okay stop apologizing"

morning fuck

jooyeon

the door to your apartment is slammed as jooyeon crashes his lips to yours, pressing you against the closest wall.

you had been on a date – a nice and innocent afternoon at the arcade – but the little sundress you wore with lingerie that barely covered whatever had to be covered ruined any innocence there was.

after bending down to pick up the stuffed animal you got at a claw machine and giving him a view of your ass, jooyeon blew all the money he spent on arcade tokens with half-assed tries at the very same claw machine you got your little stuffed puppy from and dragged you back to your car.

he didn't even bother pushing you into the backseat for a quickie, he just settled into the passenger seat, brought you into a heated open-mouthed kiss as you sat in front of the wheel and said "drive before i finger you so hard you crash the car."

ok joo maybe you should lay off the dramas you've been watching

although, driving did not stop you from reaching over the gear stick and palming him through his jeans, making his hips jump into your touch.

by the time you finally parked your car he was more than fed up with the teasing.

back to being pressed against the entrance hall wall in your apartment, jooyeon kicked off his shoes while still attached to your mouth and fumbled with the clasp of your sandals until he managed to drop both to the ground.

his hands gripped your ass, pulling your asscheeks apart and making you gush into your skimpy underwear.

"you better take me to the bed and fuck me until i cry." needless to say, you were both turned on to no end. in seconds, your back was hitting the mattress and your underwear was being pulled down.

jooyeon flipped up your dress and immediately dove into your cunt. if there's something you can be sure will happen, is that foreplay with jooyeon will always involve oral. even if today he was horny to the point where he won't make you cum with his tongue, but only make sure you can take him, he always made you feel so good your toes curled.

his nose pressed against your clit [stopped writing here sorry yall. point is he cums early. two strums and the song is over. duas sanfonadas acabou o forró]

[7grandmel]

Blog Update - 16/06/2024

TL;DR: My 1-month break is over! The blog is returning but with a slower rate of posts. New forms of posts will start rolling out soon as well - scroll down to the bullet-point list for details.

Hello all! I've been receiving some asks and questions in the request form wondering where I've been this past month. Rest assured, I've been fine. With Athletic Doctor back in May, I reached the one-year anniversary of doing this daily-rip-posting thing, and today, June 16th, marks the one-year anniversary of this blog's existence as a whole with Snowball Park - Super Mario 3D World. Because yeah, for those first 30 posts I didn't do this as part of a blog, but as a daily activity for my own personal Tumblr account on @melblur. If you compare the word counts on those first few posts (the "First 30 Archive") to the posts made later in the blog's run, you'll likely be able to see how my focus in writing evolved, going from mere shoutouts and recommendations to full-on retrospectives and analysis. That was a large part of why I chose the blog's initial name as "Tumblr's SiIvaGunner Historian", there's something about regaling these oft-forgotten events in the channel's history that just invigorates me, a passion that kept me doing this for a year straight. What began as nothing but a laid-back writing exercise to keep my mind sharp became something that, on some days for rips that I was truly passionate about, drew my FULL undivided attention for an entire day's worth.

You saw the TL;DR, and you can probably tell where this is going. By the last few posts, I was noticing myself that this really isn't sustainable to keep doing at a daily rate. I've worn that pace as a badge of honor for so long on here: In my mind, it just made so much sense for a blog celebrating SiIvaGunner, a channel partially defined by its insane rate of uploads, to also do things at such a high pace, with so many references to past posts interconnecting them all just like the many in-jokes on SiIvaGunner itself. But this blog isn't a network of a hundred team members and a thousand contributors - aside from the requests on what to write and footnotes left by a rip's creator, everything made on this blog has done solely by its writer, me, Mel. I loved it - but I do think its about time I slow things down.

I was as torn on this choice as you likely are seeing it - after all, it's called "TODAYS siivagunner" for a reason, right? I was toying around with how to resolve this as far back as in March of this year, tossing around ideas and concepts as to rework the blog to be more feasible whilst still preserving its spirit. The April Fools prank, the legendary Raftmageddon of Raft Ride ~ The Story So Far, was sort of an offshoot of this, a day where posts were more rapid-fire than ever yet were all contained to just five or six sentences each: Short, snappy, concise, and even pretty casual and silly a lot of the time. And that was really fun for the sake of the bit, it again fit with the nature of Raft Ride the same way that my main posts sort of fit with the nature of standard SiIvaGunner uploads, but I realized even then that it wouldn't be a good fit for the blog's main posts - the things that make both you and I most happy as readers and writers respectively are when I get to truly get down to the meat of a rip and explore its contents and history to the fullest.

A month went by quicker than I thought it would, but alas, here we are. A lot can change in not so much time - I'm currently employed, for one, which is yet another reason why daily posts feel far less feasible, but I'm also spending my time expanding my interests, listening to albums, reading books, watching shows, talking to new people...I want this blog to keep going, but I also don't want to use it as an excuse for my own lack of growth as a person. And so, I've landed on a compromise that I hope will satiate all of us. Here's the current plan for the blog going forward:

Rip coverage will be going from daily to weekly, posted every Monday starting tomorrow, June 17th. In return, the goal is to make these posts as well-written and interesting to read as possible.

Requests for these posts will still be taken as normal. I'll of course try to prioritize requests from people who haven't had theirs featured on the blog yet, but keep in mind that it's still up to my judgement if I'll be able to have enough to say on a rip (or know enough about a rip's topic) to warrant writing a post on it!

New, more laid-back kinds of posts for the blog will be featured in the days between rip coverage posts - these will be a lot simpler in nature and made ~2-4 times a week depending on my schedule. Here are some examples of posts I have in mind!

GIFs and image sets from the channel's various visual rips and/or lore videos! Think the Christmas Comeback Crisis, the KFAD Tournaments, the Festival events of Season 4, 5 and 6, legacy content posted on the SiIvaGunner Twitter account, and more!

Character appreciation posts featuring all sorts of characters from the SiIvaGunner lore! Celebrate the figments you love with all twelve other SiIvaGunner fans on Tumblr!

Trivia about the channel, which I'd otherwise sneak into main posts, may get small little posts in of themselves! This can be anything from Did-You-Knows about how in-jokes have been carried on during the channel's life, to easter eggs and references, to fun tidbits about rippers themselves.

Shitposts! Goofs! Stuff I'd otherwise reblog under the #epic flintstones tag, basically.

Miscellaneous text posts related to the channel, such as Guides, summaries, or just whatever various thoughts I have!

All of these will have their own tags dedicated to them, just like #todays siivagunner - what tags they end up being is still up in the air and may change even as the posts are rolling out. Either way, the blog's pinned post will be continually updated with all the relevant tags and info about the blog - keep an eye out on it during next week.

Whew! That's a lot of stuff covered. I hope you're as excited for the second year of this blog as I am! Hopefully the greater variety of posts will help with the longer wait between "main" posts. The goal is, as you can imagine, to keep the blog a fun read for you all and just as much of a fun passtime for me, whilst also easing my own workload enough to make it manageable. I love running this blog more than anything, and I'm hoping this new schedule will give me more energy to make better posts - Maybe I'll even get a chance to interact with all of you even more by discussing more than just per-rip analysis.

Thanks for reading everyone - That SiIvaGunner Tumblr Blog will officially be back tomorrow!

[toomuchracket]

this is random but I had a thought about maybe flatmate girlie getting a bit put out by the girls in the girls video. like not mega jealous, but maybe a bit insecure? like obviously they’re GORGEOUS and stuff but seeing them all in their underwear and matty is obviously around them and looking at them and stuff. idk, just a thought. like maybe they’d get home and she’d be a bit snappy and short with him (I too get like that when I’m jel or sad lol), and he’s like have I done something wrong? is everything okay? and she just doesn’t know how to say how she feels without being like I want it to be me that you gawk at in lingerie!!!!!!

you meet them in the pub after the shoot and it's all nice and fun until hann (bless him) slides his phone to you and says "here, we did a little behind the scenes thing to show you because you couldn't make it earlier"; literally the second clip is matty chatting to a couple of the models in their underwear and them being a bit giggly, right into an actual video clip of them kissing him on the cheek, and you're literally clenching your teeth to try and keep a straight face as you ooh and aah at the rest of it. matty leans forward after you've watched it to be like "so this is the idea it's a pisstake of pop vids and then there's the robert palmer reference with the hot girls and the lipstick and-", and you cut him off like "yeah i'm not stupid i understand the concept and the inspo" - he's slightly taken aback like "oh. of course. yeah. sorry, darlin", but you're already chatting to george about something. and it's all fine for a little bit, until ross casually says "matty. are you gonna see that girl with the short hair again? she was cool. seemed to really like you", and he's like "oh maybe. she's so fit. couldn't keep my eyes off her when she was pretending to be me, to be honest lol", and that's IT for you; you're like "oh it's my round, same again? i'll be back in a minute", and go up to the bar for a bit of space and some silent seething. but that's fucking ruined by matty following you like a lost puppy giving it "hi sweetheart. thought you might want a hand carrying everything over. missed you today", and all you can do is hum in response - he's immediately concerned like "you alright, darlin?", and you're like "yeah. just tired. i'll take these two drinks back if you can get the others. cheers" and walk back to the table. he can tell there's definitely something up with you, but he can't tell what specifically; there's no way you're jealous, right? no, must be something else (🙄). he asks when you get back to the flat and wordlessly take your shoes off in the hall, before you can go to your room and slam the door - he's like "darlin, i know you're upset with me, and i want you to tell me why so i can properly address it, please. was it me explaining the video? i didn't mean to make you feel like i think you're daft, you're the smartest person i know. i'm sorry if i came across like that", and you sigh like "it's not that. it's just..." and you think of how best to phrase it without giving yourself away before continuing like "i think i feel a bit left out". not a lie, because you want him to look at YOU in your underwear and not some random model, and matty just nods and says "because this is the first 75 vid you haven't been on set for?", and you're like "mhmm yes that's it. just felt out of the loop! exactly". he hugs you and apologises, and you feel better after the contact; even better when he looks at you softly and says "you know, you look really beautiful today, if you don't mind me saying" (and you don't), because shocker! he was wishing you were the one he was looking at the whole time too! god you two are so stupid in the early days lol. cute though <3

[idontplaytrack]

Hii can I request some Amber Appleton x reader? Where reader and Amber have been best friends since they were little and reader has had a crush on Amber for a while, with a cute confession and maybe some smut?

Nothing but joy

Amber Appleton x fem! reader

Warnings: some coarse language, smutty ending, implied messy home life, implied/slight descriptions of ocd symptoms after major illness

“But did you know that I loved you? Or were you not aware? You're the smile on my face. And I ain't goin' nowhere. I'm here to make you happy, I'm here to see you smile. I've been wanting to tell you this for a long while.” — Fall, Justin Bieber

(Reader and Amber kinda gave me Daisy and Aza vibes the more I wrote this draft lol)

Sighing, Amber wipes down the tables in the donut shop while Lloyd was in the back making a new batch of donuts for the second half of the day. Amber’s shift had just begun, while yours at the nearby diner had just ended. So, you made your way over to the donut shop to pay her a visit. “Hey, Ams!” You exclaimed, bursting through the doors happily.

“Hey! Hi, y/n.” Amber’s face lit up the second she saw you and heard your voice, “How was your day?”

“Quite a few snappy customers today so that wasn’t too fun. Tips were pretty good, and it wasn’t too busy. So…good, I guess?”

She chuckles, folding up the rag and putting it away. “That’s good, least you have an off day tomorrow. Me too, we can go out, or just stay in and hang out.”

“Right! God, we finally have off days at the same time.” You gasped.

“y/n! I thought I heard your voice.” Lloyd walks out from the back, “Good to see ya. You want a donut?”

“Hey, Lloyd.” You waved, “Is that even a question? Of course I do.”

“Good point.” He laughs, “Take your pick.”

“I’ll have an old fashioned.” You decided.

He puts that into a bag and hands that to you, “There you go.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, taking the bag. While Amber served a customer who’s just walked in, you stood off to the side and chatted with Lloyd for a little while.

“So have you decided when you’re going to—”

You shushed him in a panic because Amber was only several feet away from you. “No.” You mouthed exaggeratedly.

“You have nothing to be worried about.” Lloyd says.

“Worry about what?” Amber asks, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

You glared at Lloyd for his statement, “This…work thing. They might be laying off a couple people.” You had to lie. You couldn’t do it— no, you couldn’t say it.

“You’re one of the best where you work.” Amber shrugs, “I think you’ll be just fine.”

You laughed awkwardly, “But if I do get fired, are you still hiring, Lloyd?”

“We’ll make an exception for you, y/n.” Lloyd replies nonchalantly.

“I’ll hold you to that, this bitch needs a job.”

“Don’t call yourself that!” Amber gasps, slightly horrified.

You bite back a laugh, analysing the donut that you held in your hand before taking a bite. “Oh, perfection.” You sigh, “I’ve missed this.”

“Yeah, why weren’t you here for two weeks?” Lloyd recalls.

“Got sick and miserable. I got a cold, which turned into pneumonia.”

“Shit.” Lloyd’s eyes went wide at your revelation, “I’m sorry that must’ve been rough.”

“Oh, absolutely.” You nod, “But I am now back and better than ever.”

“Heck yeah.” Amber agrees, chuckling over her words.

You hung around for a bit, rather than going home because you preferred to be away from home. Lloyd didn’t mind it, Amber loved having you around while she worked. She loves your company— even if you were just sitting there.

“You’re sure it’s alright if I just stay here for a few hours to do my homework? My parents were yelling all morning— I don’t want to go back there so early.”

“Don’t worry about it, I already told you it was okay. Come by whenever, remember?” Lloyd promised.

“Okay.” You nodded firmly, “Thank you. I will uh, order something this time.”

“Just tell me what you want.” He says, “Don’t try paying either of us, that’s not gonna work.”

“Lloyd.” You huffed.

“y/n.” He mocked.

Unbeknownst to you, while you two were busy squabbling, Amber already started making your favourite drink from this place. And once you and Lloyd quiet down, Amber pushes the paper cup in front of you. “Okay, you can get started on your homework now. Lloyd, take the counter, please? I need to use the restroom.”

“Oh, sure.” Lloyd agreed without a fuss.

You got out your worksheets— your homework for this weekend and your pencil case, already to work when Lloyd whisper-shouted, “Talk to her!”

“Stop bringing that up!” You glared at him, now clearly annoyed.

“Talk to her.” He repeated in a similar tone.

“Shh!” You shushed him, “I’m busy.”

He sighs then laughs, but ultimately left you alone to do your work while he did his. Amber returns a few minutes later when a rush started so neither of them could talk to you even if they wanted to.

————

Later, when Lloyd lets Amber go for her dinner break, you decided you were done with schoolwork for the day and kept the whole mess into your backpack.

“I’m going for my break, Lloyd!”

“I know, Amber! Enjoy your break! Go.” Lloyd hurries her out of the shop. You left your backpack in the lockers at the back of this place and left with Amber to go have dinner nearby.

“What do you wanna eat?” Amber asks, her arm slung across your shoulder. You tensed up and were praying she didn’t feel that.

————

Standing right next to a booth, you hesitated sitting down. Fingertips on the table, but you quickly retracted them, balling your fist. “Amber, could you take this side? I want to be nearer to the restroom.”

“Of course.” Amber shrugs, swapping places with you and sat down, immediately looking through the menu. You followed suit, staring at the menu blankly— you already knew what you were going to get. You always ordered the same thing from here. You liked what you always got, why change things when all was good, right?

After the food was ordered, the silence that fell between you and Amber felt tense. So fucking tense to you, maybe it was just you. Because Lloyd’s voice in your head going ‘Talk to her!’, kept repeating itself. Bouncing your leg and picking at the corner of your thumb, your eyes darted to look out the window, swiftly avoiding Amber’s gaze. “Hey.” Her voice pulls you back a tad. You still don’t look at her though, instead focused on a particular leaf in a tree that was blowing in the wind, almost falling out and flying away.

“y/n.” She says, “y/n? What’s the matter?”

Chewing on your lower lip, the picking at the corner of your thumb got forceful as a breath starts to get stuck in your throat, “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, actually.” Amber says, noticing clear signs of her statement, “Talk to me.”

“I can’t.” You spat out hurriedly.

‘I can’t do that. I can’t talk to her now. What if she knows? What if she’s just testing me? What if Lloyd told her? What if she’s just waiting for me to screw up and then she’ll cut me off? Stop being my friend?’

“I— I gotta go to the bathroom. Sorry.” You excused yourself and nearly stumbled out of the booth.

Desperately trying to take some deep breaths, you were staring at yourself in the mirror. You hated this look right now— you hated seeing yourself this way. But, it happens. Now more often than ever. Ever since you got sick and had to spend time in the hospital. That place now absolutely terrified you. What you had to see, what you had to hear, what you had to feel. God, that was—

‘Okay. Okay. Get it together, y/n. Breathe, get it together. Get outta here. Don’t keep her waiting.’

Somehow, you managed to calm yourself down and went back to the booth. Seconds later, the food arrives. “Thanks!” Amber told the wait staff. “No problem, enjoy your meal.”

Amber dropped the subject of ‘what’s the matter’ and left you alone for the remainder of her shift. You sat in a corner, doodling in your sketch pad, occasionally staring out the window or at nothing in particular. Every now and then, you did get up to use the restroom so she wasn’t too concerned. Yet.

Around 8 in the evening, Lloyd presented you with another beverage. You thanked him for it, barely paying any attention to him. “You good?”

“Eh.” You shrug, “A lot going on in my head right now.”

“You…wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“That’s fine. Another donut?”

“Sure, that’d be nice, Lloyd. Thanks.”

At 10, Amber finishes her shift. She takes you to her apartment, having a pretty good guess that you didn’t want to be home. Once you brushed your teeth with a spare toothbrush that was yours (she got it for you), you practically crashed and only woke up the next morning. Then, however, Amber made you talk to her. But you just shut your mouth and kept quiet. “You’ll have to talk somehow.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You sighed, voice faltering.

You went back to her bed, hiding under the covers. She bites back a chuckle, her hand finding its way to your back giving it a soothing rub, “Hey, come on. Blanket off, y/n. We gotta talk about it.”

“I’m scared, no.” You breathed shakily.

“What, baby?” Amber asks softly, “You can tell me anything.”

You sighing, pushing the blanket off yourself. “You know how awhile ago, you asked me if I liked anyone? I said no but I actually do. I was just…honestly trying to lie to myself that I didn’t. That I didn’t have feelings…for you. I thought if I kept telling myself that I didn’t like you, I would start to believe it. But the truth is…I’ve been miserable trying to change myself even though it’s impossible.”

“Oh, baby.” Amber held your face in her hands, lightly squishing your cheeks as she swiped the tears away, “I— I’m— oh my God, I like you, too, y/n.” She was on the verge of tears herself but had the biggest smile on her face that you were staring to mirror as the relief washed over you.

Gnawing on your lower lip, you maintained the eye contact as you felt a shift in the mood. Swallowing harshly, you ask, “Can I give you a kiss?”

“Yes.” Amber sniffed, closing her eyes as she smoothly leaned closer to you. Your lips and hers merged into one, gentle and warm as you felt a swarm of butterflies in your chest. Her hands roam, softly pushing you down on her mattress. “We can just not do anything, okay? Do you want this?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed, “I do.”

Amber’s hand reached under your shirt upon hearing your reply, starting to grope you and rile you up. She chuckles, barely away from your face, “I love you.”

You couldn’t stop that smitten smile on your face when you told her back, “I love you, too.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

💭A/N: Still at work, but I got it done since it’s slow rn. Hope y’all enjoyed <3

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 It turns out that Mary isn't as experienced as you first assumed he was, but that's not the only surprise you're going to get. 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 First Kiss 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬) Mary Goore x GN!Reader 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 No smut here, Mary has long blonde hair in this one because I said so, Mary is inexperienced, first kiss (obviously), I made a bad pun about ghosting that I find absolutely hilarious (anyone who says it's not funny is wrong actually). 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1439 words. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 I'm still in pain from yesterday but don't worry y'all, I'm still giving you a Mushy may fic today. I've only briefly proofread this to make sure I don't use gendered terms or pronouns for reader but if I've missed any please let me know and I'll fix it! 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 𝐓𝐢𝐩 𝐉𝐚𝐫

Out of the two of you, you’d expected Mary to have been the most experienced when it came to relationships and sex. Not that you hadn’t had any experience, of course. You’d dated a couple of people in school, fooled around in college, and as an adult you’d had your share of one night stands and a couple of serious relationships. You’d assumed it had been the same for Mary, especially considering he was in a band and seemed to have fans throwing themselves at him regularly enough at the bar after gigs that would have been more than happy to share a bed with him. So, when you and Mary were actually talking about relationships one night at his apartment you were surprised to be told otherwise.

“That’s bullshit!”

Mary snorted. “Why? Do I seem like I’d lie about that kind of thing?”

“Of course not. You just… I don’t know. You’re hot, you’re talented, you’re cool. I’d have thought at least one person would have kissed you by now.”

“Well, they haven’t.” They shrugged, tearing off a corner of garlic bread and plopping it in their mouth before they continued talking. “I wasn’t all that popular at school, and I was more focused on the band and writing music and keeping a roof over my head. I didn’t really stop to consider when I wanted my first kiss or who it would be with.”

Smiling, you plucked a couple of fries from the greasy takeout box and dipped them in barbecue sauce. “Come on, there must be someone you wanted to have your first kiss with.”

“Nope.”

You caught the reddening of the tops of his ears and the blush just starting to creep into his cheeks. “Lies. There’s totally someone you want to kiss, I can tell. Who is it? Is it someone I know?”

Mary wrinkled their nose and looked away, long blonde hair falling and obscuring their face. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. Now shut up and eat before the food gets cold.”

Taken aback, you averted your gaze and stared down at the food laid out on the coffee table. You’d both pitched in to buy yourselves some pizza and other various bits of takeout for the night while you watched a movie, but even though your stomach felt empty your hunger had quickly dissipated at their tone. The blonde was almost never snappy with you. In fact, you were one of the only people that they hadn’t gotten into a spat with in the four years you’d known each other.

The tension that had emerged in the air was stifling as you forced yourself to eat your food, both of you remaining silent save for the odd comment about something happening in the movie.

***

You hated the bar. The people in there always leered at you, watching you with predatory eyes every time you visited. If it were possible, you’d have waited until Mary got off work and just called or texted them instead. However, you’d been given no choice when they left all your messages on read and let your calls go to voicemail for the past four days. This was the first time you’d ever gotten into an argument with the blonde and you weren’t even sure if this was a fight. It was less fight and more flight, Mary avoiding and ignoring you every time you tried to communicate.

And it fucking sucked.

Trying to shrug off the feeling of being watched, you approached the bar and were relieved to see Mary was on shift, their long blonde locks tied back into a ponytail. You waited until they’d served their current customer before walking over to where they’d just stood, hands on your hips.

“Huh. That’s funny.”

He frowned. “What?”

You made a point of looking him up and down, leaning in to pinch his cheek. “I thought you were dead seeing as you’ve been ghosting me. Assumed you were just floating around back here in spirit form, wailing and waving some spooky chains.”

Mary swatted your hand away, trying and failing not to smile. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“No. What’s ridiculous is you ignoring me for four days without telling me what I’ve done wrong.” You rested your elbows on the bar, looking up at him expectantly. “So, spill. I’m not leaving until you explain what I’ve done so I can apologise and try to make it up to you.”

The blonde bit his lip, glancing over at one of the other bar staff. “Wait here for a moment.”

Before you could say anything in response, they strolled over to their co-worker, and you watched them talk. The colleague glanced at you briefly, giving an awkward wave, before turning back to Mary and nodding. Mary looked over at you and gestured for you to follow them before slipping out from behind the bar and towards the staff only area.

The staff room was small and harshly lit, but it was also cosy. A couple of sofas, a little kitchenette, and some lockers took up a lot of the space. You felt a swell of pride when you saw the poster, you’d made for Repugnant hanging up proudly on the wall above the sofa that Mary plopped themselves down on, patting the cushion beside them.

“Look,” you started as you sank into the seat beside him. “I don’t want our friendship to be ruined because of what happened the other night, okay? I really like you and spending time with you, and I don’t–”

Your eyes widened at the soft press of lips against yours. Of all the possible outcomes you’d thought of for tonight, Mary kissing you wasn’t one of them.

It took a moment for you to respond, eyes fluttering closed as you shakily took hold of the front of his shirt and kissed him back. There was nothing sexual behind it, for you or for him. There was just the movement of your lips against his, Mary letting you take the lead as you tilted your head and gave an experimental swipe of his bottom lip with your tongue. He quickly leaned back, panting and staring at you with a panicked expression.

“Shit. Uh…” Their face turned a pretty shade of dark pink as they hastily looked away. “I probably should have asked first. Sorry.”

The full realisation of what had just happened struck you, hard. Mary gave you their first kiss.

You weaved your fingers through theirs, squeezing their hand. “Don’t be sorry. Please.”

Their eyes briefly flickered up to yours before darting away again. “If you don’t feel the same way for me then that’s fine. I didn’t really think I had a chance with you, but I’ve wanted to do that for a few months now and when you asked me the other night, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want you to get up and leave and our friendship be over just like that.”

Cupping their chin with your free hand, you gently turned their head so that they were looking at you once more. “And who said you don’t have a chance with me, hm? Because I know I certainly didn’t.”

“Oh, well, nobody did. I just assumed–”

“Yeah, you’re damn right you assumed.” You released their face and were relieved when they didn’t try to look away again. “You could’ve asked me out on a date at any point and I’d have said yes immediately. I trust you a lot more than I trust a lot of other people, especially the customers out in the bar. You treat me with so much respect and care and it’s so easy to talk to you. You make me laugh harder than anyone else does and you’re always there when I need someone to talk to. And just so you know, I’ve wanted to kiss you for some time now too.”

Mary nodded quietly, processing your words before he responded. “Okay. Well, in that case, do you wanna… go out sometime? On a date, I mean. Not like, go out in general. You go outside every day for work. And to do groceries. And to visit me at work. And–”

This time you were the one to surprise him and pecked his lips, beaming. “A date with you sounds perfect.”

Mary grinned and pulled you into a hug, arms crushing you in his embrace as he tackled you onto your back on the sofa and the two of you burst into a bout of giggles.

You couldn’t wait to take him on his first date.

[helyiios]

Inspired by that prompt from Snovyda, imagine Ethan finding Benji after he actually has tried to kill himself (if you’re comfortable of course, no worries if you aren’t)

TW : description of SH

There are a few things that scare Ethan Hunt. Eating too much junk food is one of them, along with reliving the loss of his first IMF team, having to go through the pain of seeing them die in front of his eyes without being able to do anything, to see the light fade from their eyes and their figures slump, cold against him.

Benji had been odd for the entire day...snappy, rude, even fully mean. He'd screamed at Brandt and slammed his coffee against a wall after messing up the same line of code three times, and he'd almost punched an analyst who'd had the bad idea to look out for him to get help about some data issue.

Which was worrying Ethan, were it not a little bit frightening him, too. It wasn't like he'd never seen Benji angry—the man had given him displays of displeasure plenty of times in their friendship, and it always took him aback, because there was a softness in his eyes that didn't quite fit the harshness of his words. But today was different, he could feel it.

He could feel it, and when Benji hadn't answered Brandt when he'd asked the team to get drinks, he'd started feeling uneasy. Then he hadn't answered Jane, Luther, and then Ethan had tried calling him, as a last resort, and the line had gone dead.

Working at the IMF means he's good at many things usual people are not, and that translates with him picking up his friend's door at 2 in the morning, the relentless ice cold of D.C's weather clawing at this skin as he was working his magic, finally feeling the locks give in.

It was the first time he'd gone into Benji's flat, actually, and he doesn't exactly know what to expect. It's big, for one, but he doesn't exactly know where his friend stands on the whole money thing. Surely the IMF pays well, especially when you're a field agent. But he did not have the same pay when he'd started, and he'd had this flat for at least 15 years. Which, hey. Maybe Benji had always been rich.

"Benj ?" he asks carefully, trying to see if there was any noise betraying the other's presence, "are you there ?"

Nothing.

He makes his way into the living room, surprised to see the lights turned off fully, save for the dim TV screen that was displaying a show he could not pinpoint, barely flooding the cold Chinese takeout in blueish light. The kitchen was bare, and the fridge was open, revealing one opened can of beer sadly tipped over the edge. He goes over to close it.

It's cold, he notes, and then sees that all the windows were open.

Don't panic, he swallows, forcing himself to go look over them, praying to every gods above to not find the other's body crumpled on the ground, covered in blood.

Nothing.

Good.

"Benji ? It's Ethan. I...I wanted to check up on you. You weren't picking up your phone."

Silence.

There's another quite massive room to his left, and the entire thing is covered in some trendy Hi-Fi stereos, along with four computers screens bathed in purple LEDs, close to a large chair and a rainbow lighted keyboard. He smiles to himself, appreciating the ambiance of the room.

Still no Benji.

There's something that tells him that he isn't in his room. It's a gut feeling he's been trying to ignore for the entirety of his trip to the flat, but the shivers on his body are impossibly to put aside now, and he feels his jaw tense.

Benji is okay, he tries to convince himself. Maybe he left in a hurry. Maybe he's out with friends.

You do not have friends, when you're working at the IMF. At least, not other than your colleagues.

He doesn't want to go to the bathroom.

He doesn't, because he knows the trope. He knows the clichés. He hates that he can see a faint light from under the room's door.

"Benji," he says again, voice barely above a whisper. "I'm going to come in."

He tries the handle. Locked.

It should take him 30 seconds to make his way in, but his fear gets the best of him.

What will he find, in there ? Does he want to know ?

He's so scared.

His hands are shaking when he finally pulls it open, and the scene in front of him is worse than anything he'd come up with.

He stumbles backwards, covering his mouth with his left hand, his breath dying in his throat.

Benji is slumped on the ground, surrounded by a small pool of blood, a pool that was overflowing from his left arm, the arm that was sliced in tens of small cuts, some larger than others, some red, some white, some across—

One along.

A long one, spreading from his wrist to the middle of his forearm, was bleeding out profusely, and Ethan screams out.

This shouldn't be happening.

This should not be happening.

I should have never left him alone.

"BENJI !" he yells, taking the other's face in his hands and checking for a pulse—faint, but present—and grabbing the first roll of toilet paper he can find to dabs at the scars, feeling his heart give out when the soaking overtakes the white immediately, too much, to deep, too red. "BENJI, WAKE UP, PLEASE, BENJI !"

How long had he been there ?

Some of the scars were already dry.

Blood dries in around an hour.

No.

"Fuck—FUCK !" he chokes out, taking out his phone and slamming the three numbers on the screen, trying to help with the hemorrhage, helpless, watching his friend's face pale more and more, feeling his pulse dim.

He should've never left him alone.

[9-1-1, what is your emergency ?] 

Finally.

"It's my friend," he wheezes, trying to keep the tears away from his voice, "my friend, he's—he's in his bathroom, he's cut himself, I think—I think he tried—" breathes in, Ethan, "I think he's tried to kill himself, I'm trying to keep the blood in but it—there's a lot, and—"

[Okay, sir, does your friend have a pulse ?]

"Yes, yes, a small one, but it's fading, and I—"

[Alright, we're sending you an ambulance, can you give us the address ?]

Everything after this fades out.

He stares at Benji's unmoving face as he gives the informations, holds his hand, and it's so cold, and lifeless, and he feels burning tears trail their way along his cheeks, and slumps on him and cries, and cries, and begs him to wake up.

He begs him to show him his blue and golden eyes once again, to scream at him, to insult him, look at him annoyedly, anything, he'll take anything, please,

Benji, you're not supposed to be so cold, he whimpers, sobs shaking his entire body, you're the sun, you're not supposed to be so cold.

Wake up, Benji, please, for me ? Wake up.

Wake up.

There are stocks of bloodied toilet paper lying on the ground by the time help comes, and he's forcefully pulled from him as the other is lifted on an ambulance stretcher, and he says, yes, I'm his best friend—I need to come with you, please, I need to make sure he's okay.

"Sir, we need to know," one of the paramedics asks, and their voice is so soft it makes him violent, "is it the first time you found him like that ?"

Yes. Yes.

"Yes," he harshly replies in between the tears, "I don't know how—I—"

"There are other, older scars on his arms, this is not a one time thing. Hopefully this is the first and last time it's gone to such lengths."

No, he can't have other scars.

Benji can't have been doing this to himself.

Benji...Benji is—

"I didn't know," Ethan sniffles, voice high pitched, rubbing the unforgiving tears from his blood stained cheeks, "I didn't know, I didn't—"

"It's alright, sir," the paramedic, bless them, whispers back, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You friend is going to be okay. We're going to help him."

I would rather have to face a new nuclear threat tomorrow than have to see Benji like this anytime more.

Stay with me. Stay with me.

[explodingchantry]

After a few hours into my Dao replay I think I'm starting to really warm up to the gameplay trailer for dav, and indeed its more action oriented combat.

Something I think a lot of us, especially those of us who are a bit apprehensive, are struggling with is that we haven't replayed dragon age in... A while. We have this idea of what it was like but personally my last playthrough was soon after trespasser released. I think we ourselves, unless you're one of the people whose replayed all three games very recently, aren't the best place to decide what dragon age should 'feel' like

Dao is absolutely brilliant and it's combat system is so in depth, the fact that me and a lot of people always complain about how difficult it is just means that it was a system directed towards more strategy oriented people. The little strategy options for the companions, you know the menu not a lot of us use in Dao and da2, where you can tell a companion "if this happens, do that" is a fucking marvel, it's so smart, it's so efficient, it offers so much control it genuinely is amazing. But the thing is that I don't think the core player base of dragon age ended up being the players who used that a ton.

Something you feel a lot especially replaying Dao with modern sensibilities, is sluggishness. You have to remember that it IS a real time action rpg - this means that reactivity is pretty important and even though the other Dao systems make you feel like you're wholly in control, the animations themselves as well as hit boxes and general... Feel of combat doesn't bring that across. It feels like playing an old mmo. It's absolutely fine and expected for its time, but expecting something similar in our modern era is foolish.

If bioware was going to keep the real time fighting, which, I would've been shocked and disappointed if they didn't, they had to make it more snappy and reactive. Furthermore as a bunch of people have pointed out the trailer specifically shows rogue which is THE most snappy bouncy class there is, at least with the double dagger. But we still have our pause. We still get to tell our companions what to do. And with so much work put everywhere else to "get back to their roots" it would be strange of bioware to completely abandon it just for the combat system

Something that did bother me in the trailer is how few abilities seemed available at one time and also the fact you couldn't see your companions' health bar: it seems they confirmed you can see the health bars on discord, and as for the abilities and the hud... I think it might just be a product of them showing console gameplay, because I saw some Dao console gameplay earlier today and was like. Oh. That looks similar. And there isn't necessarily any worries to have about them choosing to show console gameplay - statistically speaking I'm positive the majority of gamers these days are console gamers, and with how beautiful the game seems I imagine it'll put most computers to their fucking knees, and the amount of people who have access to up to date gaming computers is lower than you think. It makes sense from a marketing standpoint to use console gameplay. Keep hold of your knickers

I've personally no problem with a more stylised approach to the graphics either because I've always been of the opinion that inquisition looks like garbage and it aged even worse than I expected. It's so fucking ugly bro I hate how frostbite engine looked back then it's disgusting LMFAO.

I've even seen people critiquing the look of minrathous even though it's fairly consistent with what we'd seen of tevinter so far... I think people forget that in Dao, dragon age really didn't have as much of an artistic identity as it has now - really Dao in many ways looks like usual your dark fantasy game. So many elements that would become emblematic of dragon age only came in later games. Do I really need to bring up flemeth or the qunari lol, or the many looks elves and their vallaslins have had over the years.

Like dragon age's visual and artistic identity has always shifted with every game. There's literally nothing wrong with that. It's just par for the course course. You can't have a long running series of fantasy games with lore as complex as dragon age without stumbling here and there over such a large amt of year, mediums and teams.

As for the fucking idiots complaining about the game not being dark enough idk replay any of the games for like 5 minutes and then come back. Well maybe not dai that game is boring as hell most of the time but either way dragon age was always silly as hell y'all are so fucking stupid. Go watch game of thrones or something instead

I think I'm saying all that because I've seen a lot of negativity for the sake of being negative. A lot of people went into this expecting to be upset, so obviously they ended up upset. And I know it's so fucking hard: inquisition was already a mess in many ways, most of the original dragon age staff left, there were major layoffs which we should not forget about, the game was restarted I think twice or something, and in general it's had a bit of a messy development. That and the horrors that were me:a and anthem, and of course people wouldn't have faith in bioware. But it's not the first time a game studio went a dangerous path only to have a moment of clarity and come back. I've personally seen it when a few years back devil may cry 5 came out and was the best game in the franchise, going back to its roots and bettering what was already there with bold steps towards modernizing its gameplay, when all fans thought the franchise dead and buried. I want to believe bioware is able to have such a comeback as well.

What is transpiring from many of the articles, from the little tidbits of the staff on twitter, from interviews - it's that there's heart in this. It's that they're trying. They've listened. And maybe I'm just falling for the marketing machine, but I'd rather believe and be disappointed than live with no hope in my heart man. Dragon age is a series that means so much to me. We've waited so long for this. I want this to be something I can love.

[love4ab]

overwhelmed baby. [ E.P. ]

prompt ; after, a long day you get home feeling off but elvis helps and comforts you. <3

elvis x reader

wc ; 1011 angel number !!

warnings ; anxiety. fluff <33333. e being so boyfriend >.<. thats it, i hope !.

a/n ; i’ve been having pretty rough anxiety lately & this was so comforting to write :(. also, i laugh a lot in uncomfy situations so i’m sorry if reader gets the giggles and laughs in serious parts LOL... butttttt as always..

enjoy, baes <3 *kissy face*.

You and Elvis just got home from him being at the studio and doing interviews, which overwhelmed you a bit. The groups of people talking, asking many questions, and taking pictures or videos just sent you over the edge, making an uneasy feeling in your body. Even though you were both home, that feeling followed you.

You were usually good with the interviews and such, you were pretty used to it, especially after being with Elvis for so long now, but there were just those days where it left you feeling exhausted.

The loudness, all the voices, unknown faces, videos, and pictures just weren't what you were looking forward to today.

Elvis knew something was wrong with you all day but just didn't question you, especially seeing you were a bit snappy and frustrated. Which was unintentional, but the overwhelming feeling was getting too much and you didn't know how to control it anymore, so you were taking it out in anger.

"What's wrong, baby?" Elvis snapped you out of your thoughts, picking up food from his plate with his fork. You shook your head and sighed, "Nothing." You mumbled, playing with the food on your plate.

Elvis decided to make one of the few foods he knew how to cook, seeing you were having a rough day and wanting to treat you. You loved the food he made; it was always made with the right amount of flavor and love.

"You been.. not yourself all day. Ya’ worryin’ me." He whispered the last part, grabbing your hand that was fidgeting with the fork. You slightly relaxed at his touch, finally deciding to open up to him.

"It's just this.. weird feeling I have in my body." You explain to him. He nods and hums, "Is it good or bad?" He takes a sip of his drink. "I-I don't know... bad?" You turn and look at him. He doesn't say anything and rubs his chin, taking a deep breath. "I just think today overwhelmed me, Elvis." You tell him.

Elvis sadly sighs and lets go of your hand, "Lemme clean up and we'll talk about it, but only if you're comfortable, honey." Elvis felt guilty, mad at himself for having you come along with him all day. He knew the overwhelming and icky feeling you had, so he wanted to help you through it. He picked yours and his dishes from the dinner table and set them in the kitchen sink.

"Let's go to the sofa." He took your hand and led you to the living room, where you both sat down on the couch. You both sat in silence for a couple seconds, Elvis not wanting to push it and you not knowing how to start off.

"I know how you feel, darlin'." He whispered, trying to make you feel more comfortable by opening up, and you turned your head to watch him as he spoke. "I-I-Well, y'know, when I first started off, I was.. scared?" He explained. "It was a whole new world to me; I was young and didn't really know what to expect. All the crowds, people, pictures, and stuff overwhelmed me." He softly smiled at you.

You started easing down, but the feeling was still in you. "Yeah, I guess the interviews and people really sent me over the edge a bit today." You chuckled a bit, feeling better knowing that Elvis knew how you felt. He smiled at you and nodded, "Yea, it can be a bit much. Still till this day, I get that feeling." He shrugged his shoulders a bit.

You looked down at the floor, "I just feel like I'm being judged, y'know? I can't make a wrong move or something cause then it'll be a huge scandal or something." You laugh, realizing how ridiculous you might sound. He hummed, "Yup, just the way I feel, but I've learned to accept the fact that not everyone's going to like me or the things I may say or do." He agreed. "Cause I sure as hell ain't like everybody." He laughs, causing you to shake your head and giggle.

"Come on." He grabs your shoulders and pulls you back next to him. You lean into his side, resting the side of your face against his chest. "Don't pay attention to what those negative people have to say, cause deep down inside, all that hate and negativity just roots from something inside of them." You nod your head and look up at him, and he looks down at you.

"Promise me, you won't let nothin' them folks gotta say about you bother you, baby." He boops your nose, and you smile. "I promise." You nod. He pulls out his pinkie and raises his eyebrows. "Promise?" You shake your head and grin. "Promise." You hook your pinkie finger around his tightly before letting go. You both laugh at the childish gesture, but he's happy to see a big, cheeky smile on you.

"There's my pretty lil girl." He grabs you and straddles you over his lap. His hand cups your face and squeezes your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss as you giggle. You lay your hands flat on his chest, making sure to hold your balance. He gives you a big kiss on the lips and laughs before letting go of your cheeks.

You rub your cheeks, caressing the soreness from how tight he squeezed them. He laughs while watching you frown and rubs your cheeks. "Oh, I'm so sorry, baby!" He coos, pulling your hands away from your cheeks and placing soft, gentle kisses on your sore cheeks. You can't help but giggle and smile at his actions.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you into a tight hug. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your face in the crook of his neck as his hand rubs up and down your back. "I love you, baby girl." He whispers in your ear. You smile, "I love you more." You hug him tighter. "Impossible." He whispers back.

[shallanigans]

So, you want to write fanfiction? Here's some advice from someone who spends too much time on ao3, Part 1:

Hey everyone! This is a bit of a deviation from my usual shitposts. I was looking at the "#writers on tumblr" tag today, and I got inspired to post this after some interesting discussions. I'm someone who has read a lot (and I mean A LOT) of fanfic, as well as written some myself... so I thought I'd make this little (no, I lied, it's Very Long) post with some writing tips that I find personally meaningful for those of you who may be getting started or want to try something new.

My qualifications? Honestly, because I said so. This is just my opinion. Feel free to ignore, disagree, hate, ask questions, whatever. I'll be discussing some common fanfic writing advice and what I think about it, as well as giving some general pointers.

Disclaimer: What is "good writing?"

Good writing is effective writing. There is no one way in which everyone should write. Effective writing compels the reader; it makes them interested in your story, keeps them turning the pages, makes them click that "next chapter" button and stay up all night to finish your 500k epic. Some people achieve this through flowery, descriptive prose. Others do so with their quick wit and snappy dialogue. Others write all their fanfictions in second person epistolary format only and make you cry harder than you ever have. The first thing to know is that 1) tastes vary and 2) confidence matters. Find your voice, and be proud of it. If you feel that what you are doing is working for you, and you love it, then keep at it. Someone has already made every "writing mistake" and made it well. Don't fall into the trap of getting bogged down with 674835 contradictory tips and being too terrified to write at all. The only real writing sin is being boring.

Furthermore, this post is for fanfiction specifically. A lot of this advice might be useful for traditional fiction, but it's not a 1:1 carryover. A lot of fanfic advice will be irrelevant for traditional fiction, and vice versa.

That's all fine and dandy, but what do I do?

Good question. First, let's break down what makes a fanfiction effective. Most people searching ao3 for a story probably want:

A compelling premise

With in-character characters

Good spelling, formatting, grammar, and syntax

Stylistically strong writing

A coherent plot

With a certain degree of wish-fulfillment sprinkled in (this is fanfic, after all)

In this series, I will be mostly discussing elements 2-6. Number 1, unfortunately, comes down to "don't be boring," and I can't tell you how to come up with an idea that's going to hook your reader. However, assuming that you already have The Coolest Idea Ever, and you only need the reader to see that, then here's what you can do:

Effective Summaries

No, seriously. Tell people what your fucking story is about. One of my favorite stories on ao3 has the worst, vaguest one-liner of a summary I've ever seen. It is a gem, and if it hadn't been for a friend's recommendation, I would have never read it. You may think that your epic out of context quote from the paragraph you spent hours perfecting will make people care, but it will probably just confuse them. This is likely to be the most controversial thing I say today, so I'm starting off strong.

When I say effective summary, I mean a summary that will tell people the basic premise of the plot while also making them want to learn more. I don't mean something fancy. I mean something like:

When Blorbo started his new tech development job at Tumblr, he never expected to have Blorbette for a boss. She is smart, cold, calculating - and, to his horror, totally irresistible. In order to win her heart, he decides to make her jealous by fake-dating his colleague and frenemy, Blorbinson. But he soon finds that there is more to his mysterious friend than meets the eye. Could it be that the real Tumblr sexyman has been next to him all along?

That's a pretty standard summary for a relatively long fic. It's nothing fancy, but it tells the reader what the story's about. Now this same summary, in the hands of someone who refuses to inform the reader about the premise of the story, would probably say something like:

His eyes are the color of spring.

You can get away with that kind of stuff more often in a one-shot, but best practice is always to tell your reader what the story is about. Say to your reader:

Blorbinson's eyes are too easy to get lost in. Blorbo cannot find his way out.

If you MUST include a quote from your story, then do it alongside your informative summary, in the much-loved format below:

"What do you mean Welcome to Nightvale is winning the contest?" --- In which things get heated at Tumblr dot com, and Blorbinson's the one making Blorbo get all sweaty.

I can already hear you arguing. You say to me, "But there are people who choose quotes that are both pretty AND informative! But writing anything is better than writing nothing in the summary!"

True. My response to the first point is this: if you had mastered that skill, you wouldn't be here. A simple, to-the-point-summary is almost never going to make the interested reader scroll past your story. You know what will? An out-of-context block of text about how much Sans Undertale loves the player from chapter 3, paragraph six.

To the second point, I say: obviously. This doesn't mean that you shouldn't seek to improve. No one is perfect. I'm certainly not. But you're doing yourself a disservice by spending so much time and effort on the content of your story and then fumbling it on the home stretch. If you take pride in your work (and I'm assuming you do, because you posted this story for a reason), then make like a chef at a five-star restaurant and start caring about presentation. It goes without saying that there shouldn't be any typos in the summary.

A note on tagging: I will make a separate post on tagging your stories appropriately. This is a writing-related rant.

Now, onto characterization:

If you're one of those people who thinks that there's no such thing as "too OOC," congratulations. May you enjoy fanfiction free from the shackles of the narrative. Tag appropriately and have fun. If you're like the rest of us haters, you probably want to keep your characters as faithful to canon as possible. Yes, even in an AU.

I've included this wonderful addition because entryn17 said it better than I ever could have. There's difference of interpretation, and then there's Severus Snape deciding that James Potter was actually just misunderstood.

Being "in-character" is an elusive ideal that we all strive for, but no one can quite tell you what it means except for "the vibes." The way I like to define it is this: If you asked yourself the question "Would He Fucking Say That/Do That/Feel That?" and the answer is "yes, absolutely," then it's in-character. If the answer is "absolutely not," then it's out of character. If the answer is "maybe?" then your goal is to move that needle firmly into the Yes camp.

To do this, you must first determine what is making you unsure. Is it the dialogue? Is your stuffy Edwardian speaking like a Gen Alpha well-versed in Cocomelonese? Is your overconfident flirt stammering and stuttering through a conversation? Often, the content of what a character is saying agrees perfectly with the source material, but the how doesn't match it. Beta readers can help with this, as can going back to the source material to study a character's speech patterns in canon. You don't have to get it perfect. Just make sure it doesn't stand out. Would Snape perhaps say "Come over here!" in a much wordier, snarkier manner? Maybe. Maybe not. But he sure as hell wouldn't say, "Yo! bring your ass over and check this out!"

Actions and feelings are a bit trickier. There's always some leeway in personal interpretation here, and most of the time your reader won't question this very much so long as the rest of the story keeps them engaged. One OOC action or thought is easy to brush off. Ten, not so much. Read up on the wiki pages for whatever you're writing, go back to the source material, and maybe get the opinion of a willing beta reader. Ultimately, if your characters start feeling like featureless puppets subject to your whims rather than people with established personalities, you might want to go back and revisit what made them stand out to you in the first place.

Keep things consistent within your story. Especially in AUs and canon divergence fics, there are certain character traits that are malleable. Maybe Draco Malfoy wouldn't have been such a dickhead if he'd had caring adult mentors in his life. So, justify that within your story. You don't necessarily need to keep the characterization faithful to the canon, but you do need to convince the reader that their beloved character has a reason for their behavior. Keep things consistent. Whenever a character deviates from their canon behavior, make sure there's a valid explanation for it in your narrative.

Don't fall for the trap of confusing canon and fanon. Fandom is like a game of telephone. Someone writes one story of Blorbo adopting a cat, and suddenly he's the biggest cat person in the universe. The poor author who posts about Blorbo's canonical love of dogs gets trashed for writing OOC. You can't prevent people getting mad at you, but you can always grin smugly and go to bed happy with the knowledge that you were right. Someone will love you for it.

SPAG

Ew! It sounds like something your dog spit up. Spelling and Grammar might be boring, but they're necessary. You shouldn't break the rules until you know the rules. One day, you will write a run-on postmodern epic to rival the worst of Wallace's page-long sentences. Today is not that day. No one wants to open a story only to be greeted by a massive block of text, a lack of punctuation, and a heretofore undiscovered form of there/they're/their.

In the modern age, we have many tools at our disposal to clarify our SPAG doubts. Dictionaries! Spellcheck! The weirdos on those Substack forums! Oh, my. If you wrote your story at 3AM directly onto the ao3 editor, perhaps take a moment to run it through some kind of spellchecker before posting. Microsoft Word has a pretty good one, but Grammarly and other such software can help you if that's not available. There's also nothing quite like a beta reader. There are people in this world who love picking apart every comma, period, and quotation mark, and they'll be happy to do it for you. I am one of them, and I volunteer. There are many of us.

Here are some SPAG mistakes common in fanfiction.

1.Your/you're, they're/their/there, "could of," and "lie" vs "lay."

"YOUR" means that something is yours. You possess that thing. YOUR story is going to be great if you fix the grammar. "YOU'RE" is a contracted form of "YOU ARE." If you fix your grammar, YOU'RE going to be a great writer.

They're: Shortened form of "they are." They're going to the beach. They're very nice people.

Their: They possess a thing. A thing belongs to them. They're going to the beach in THEIR car.

There: Related to a place. You are going to be THERE. THERE are many pretty horses in the field.

"Could of" does not exist. It is an incorrect way of writing "could've," the shortened form of "could have."

The verbs lie and lay are tricky ones. You (a person) LIE down on your bed. You LAY an object down on a surface. However, the past tense of LIE is LAY. I know! Who invented English, am I right? Blorbo LIES on his bed in the present tense. He LAY on his bed in the past.

The past tense of "lay" is "laid." Blorbo LAID down his water bottle.

2. Run-on sentences.

Sometimes, when we're writing, we get a little excited. We have so many thoughts and we never know how to end them. You might think the solution here is to just keep throwing down commas, but you'd be wrong.

Run-on sentences can be effective if used intentionally, but a lot of the time, they're not. The period isn't your enemy. In general, you want to make sure your sentences have a subject, a verb, and an object, and that they end when you've finished your thought.

Blorbo was the most beautiful of all the tumblr sexymen. He really liked to show off his sick gains at the gym. He had a hot wife and an even hotter side piece.

This writing isn't very exciting, but it's correct. Contrast that with:

Blorbo was the most beautiful of all the tumblr sexymen, he really liked to show off his sick gains at the gym, he had a hot wife and an even hotter side piece.

Finish your thoughts. There are ways to connect independent clauses (a group of words that can work on its own as a sentence) correctly, like the semicolon; the semicolon is a great piece of punctuation. There is also the em-dash. Sometimes, you really need to add clarification to a thought — you really want to emphasize the second part of what you're saying. Em-dashes also work like a cooler version of parentheses — because who uses those, am I right? — and can help you seem like a chic and seasoned writer. Don't overuse them, though. I know you want to. And no, I don't heed my own advice here.

Look, these rules aren't intuitive. I can't possibly go through all of them in a way that's easy and digestible. There are smarter people than me who have written all about it, and I use incorrect punctuation all the time. Misplacing a comma isn't going to be the end of the world for your story, but at least give it a once-over with a beta or spellchecker to fix the worst of it. At the very least, make the reader think that run-on sentence was totally on purpose.

3. Paragraphs

Make sure your paragraphs stick to a single theme or thought. Fanfiction writers love to have one-sentence paragraphs for the impact, but you don't need to do that. Just keep them coherent. For example, if you're writing about Blorbo's weekend, you might say,

Blorbo loved Saturdays. On Saturdays, the world seemed to sparkle and sing with the whole of the city's shared happiness over not having to work. He would wake up on those mornings and leap out of bed while singing a jaunty little tune. Then, he'd text Blorbinson a string of heart emojis and plan to meet up for their weekly ice cream date. But Sundays — oh, how he hated Sundays! Sundays were the day before Monday, and he'd always spend so long worrying about going back to the office that, by the time he decided to do something, it would be dark outside already.

Each of the paragraphs above, clumsy as they are, have a clear idea that starts and ends within the same paragraph. If you talk about Blorbo's Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday all within one paragraph, your reader will be confused!

On the other hand, if you make every single paragraph one line, your reader is going to resent you. You have unwittingly made them take part in a bad action thriller. One-line paragraphs are supposed to be impactful and create suspense. When writing, a good tip is to consider the word "impactful" a synonym of "sparing." See below:

Blorbo loved Saturdays. On Saturdays, the world seemed to sparkle and sing with the whole of the city's shared happiness over not having to work. He would wake up on those mornings and leap out of bed while singing a jaunty little tune. Then, he'd text Blorbinson a string of heart emojis and plan to meet up for their weekly ice cream date.

Doesn't it suck? Not to mention all that scrolling!

3. Dialogue

Right off the bat, I'll say that the best way to learn how to format dialogue is by reading books. Not fanfiction. BOOKS. They have been checked by an editor, so you know you're getting the real deal. Generally, well-formatted dialogue achieves an engaging and seamless conversation between your characters. Poorly-formatted dialogue forces your reader into a game of Who's Who?

See for, instance, the following abomination:

"I can't believe you cheated on me with Blorbette!" Blorbo had been crying about it for a week. His tears would soon erode a riverbank down his cheeks. Blorbinson sneered at him, "I can't believe you ever thought this was real." "I was only with you for the tax benefits." No! How could you? Blorbo said. Blorbinson laughed a wicked laugh and looked at him. "My heart is shattered into a million tiny pieces. Love isn't real!"

Did you follow that? Because I sure didn't. Generally, here are the rules of dialogue:

Start a new line for each character that speaks, and keep a single character's dialogue within the same paragraph.*

Use dialogue tags to CLARIFY who is speaking. Note: I said clarify. If it's redundant take it out. I will write more about good (not merely correct) dialogue in a follow-up post.

Put a period after or before an ACTION tag in dialogue, but a comma before a SPEECH tag. The reason you do this is that ["Here is an example line of dialogue," he said] is a complete sentence, but ["Here is an example line of dialogue." He looked at his watch.] is TWO sentences. The quotation marks are merely to indicate speech. Whether or not something is a sentence is determined by the content of what the writing actually says, not by any punctuation it may have.

Use quotation marks to indicate speech. If you want to quote something within quotation marks (in American English), you put it in single quotes, like so: "And then he called me 'a lost cause who's doomed to be single forever.' Can you believe that?"

By following these rules, we get the much nicer:

"I can't believe you cheated on me with Blorbette!" Blorbo had been crying about it for a week. His tears would soon erode a riverbank down his cheeks. Blorbinson sneered at him. "I can't believe you ever thought this was real. I was only with you for the tax benefits." "No! How could you?" Blorbinson only laughed a wicked laugh. "My heart is shattered into a million tiny pieces. Love isn't real!" Blorbo said.

Obviously that's still pretty bad, but now it's readable. Formatting your dialogue properly will fix a lot of problems with your story, make it clear who is talking, and make the reading experience much nicer for everyone.

* An Important addendum: sometimes, characters will speak for a long time, and you'll want to split up their dialogue into paragraphs. To do that, you start the dialogue in quotation marks, but you leave them open until the character is done speaking, like so:

"My favorite thing about Blorbinson was that he always knew just what to say. He had this magical ability to always tell when I was sad, and he showed up with ice cream every single time. It always made me feel better," Blorbo said. "I can't believe our relationship is over now. I should probably tell you all about how that happened. "I walked into my house one day to find another pair of shoes by the door, where Blorbinson's usually are. I knew Blorbinson would never wear those shoes, because his style is more boho-inspired. Anyway, my worst fear was confirmed when I walked into the bedroom and found him there with Blorbette! My two loves, betraying me so callously!"

This is common in fantasy stories where you need to impart some deep lore knowledge on the reader, or for characters who like to talk a lot.

4. Verb tenses (edited after posting, in true fanfic writer fashion)

Us writers tend to have very strong opinions about verbs. You could even say things get a little bit... tense sometimes. Ok, but seriously; whether you write in past or present doesn't matter. What matters is that you keep things consistent.

Nothing takes the reader out of a fanfic faster than abrupt tense switches in the middle of the narrative. If you are writing in a specific verb tense, stick with it.

Don't say:

Blorbo is never sure what Blorbinson is thinking. He watched him chew his pencil from across the office, that beautiful face scrunched in concentration as he stares at his computer. Blorbo knows he's in love the minute Blorbinson looks back.

DO say:

Blorbo was never sure what Blorbinson was thinking. He watched him chew his pencil from across the office, that beautiful face scrunched in concentration as he stared at his computer. Blorbo knew he was in love the minute Blorbinson looked back. or Blorbo is never sure what Blorbinson is thinking. He watches him chew his pencil from across the office, that beautiful face scrunched in concentration as he stares at his computer. Blorbo knows he's in love the minute Blorbinson looks back.

When we write in past tense and we want to talk about events that happened prior to the narrative, we use the past perfect. When we write in present, we can use either simple past or past perfect. This one's kind of iffy. As you write more, you'll get a sense of what "sounds correct."

Ultimately, your choice of verb tense is personal opinion and what you feel best fits your story. Just make sure that you keep whatever you choose consistent. A beta reader can help you with this.

And that's it for Part 1!

This post dealt with some technical, basic things about fanfic that will mostly be useful to new writers. I will be going more in depth about making your prose stronger at the sentence level in Part 2, where #4 is getting an entire post. It'll probably be even longer than this one. I hope it was able to help someone!