#don't mind this absolute NOVEL in the tags

[zs-starwars]

Seeing the buzz about war within makes me think of my favorite warcraft blorbo- Arator. Wonder if he'll have anything new? With Turalyon on the throne and Alleria one of the main advertised protagonists I hope so.

He was mentioned a few times in Vow Eternal. He is on Golden's radar which makes me both nervous and excited. He was hanging out with his parents and then hanging out with Dagran which was sweet. And she did mention him in Before the Storm.

[advestager]

I feel like saying Josuke doesn't have any daddy issues whatsoever isn't entirely fair (I've seen some fic and comics go further into how he and his mom might have been treated due to the circumstances of his birth that were pretty compelling) but people who act like he grew up without any father figure are definitely off base imo. Every single adaptation and extra material have always had a focus on his close relationship with his grandpa for a reason!

see, that's precisely the thing. it is literally impossible to be a grown up human without having internalised some sort of illogical Feeling about oneself or the world – but fandom as a whole tends to just assign arbitrary ones to characters based on stereotypes rather than what they actually are like.

i do think josuke feels some sort of way about his lack of a father growing up, but that's as inevitable as joseph himself (or giorno, or jolyne, or even jonathan) having feelings about his own dad, and yet somehow jorge's absence does not get brought up despite joseph and josuke's fairly similar upbringings. the fact is that most of western fandom tends to view the JJBA characters through a (white, usa-centric) lens that simply does not lend itself to a fair or accurate reading when most of the cast is either POC or from an entirely different cultural background. that's why i'm so resistant to label josuke as having 'daddy issues'; the term means something entirely different to me than it seems to do to most of the fandom, based on all the fic, comics, and discussions i've seen (and had) about the topic. it's not exactly like the organised crime aspect of VA, but it fills me with a similar kind of frustration. i don't think one needs a degree in cultural studies or history or whatnot to enjoy a silly series about people punching each other with slutty soul-ghosts, but it's exhausting to see the same thoughtless, very specifically westernised takes being regurgitated over and over as Absolute Truth until the characters are so flanderised they seem nothing as much as a caricature of their original versions. i love transformative works as much as any other fan creator, but i also happen to like the source material. it is infinitely more interesting to me to think about what kind of relationship josuke might have to his heritage as a mixed-race person, or his identity as the son of a single mother or the obviously cherished and spoilt child of a family such as his own (especially in a place and period like canon's late-90s/early 00's japan), than to hear yet another iteration of 'haha, josuke has daddy issues' where the person saying it has no intention of analysing that premise beyond the puddle-depth obvious.

at barely sixteen years old, even as interested in high-end fashion (and as very much part of a working class family who could definitely use the nest egg) as he is, josuke's immediate reaction to being told his missing father is incredibly rich and wants to take care of him is to say that it's not necessary, and he's fine as he is. sixteen. i worked as a teacher with kids as young as a year old and people as old as mid-seventies; that kind of ease of mind is one-in-a-million and not something you'll find on someone who fits fandom's definition of 'daddy issues'. he's not angry at joseph, he's not grasping for money, he hardly even wants to find out more about the missing part of his origins. his only thought is to wish he wouldn't be the reason other people were hurt, and to protect his mother once there is a risk she might find out and be distressed about it. his entire morality system is (from what i remember of canon) mostly based around the question What Would Grandpa Do?, with some leeway allowed for the temper he clearly got from tomoko and for the fact that he is, again, a big and slightly spoilt sixteen year old.

so yeah. it might not sound fair to say he doesn't have daddy issues, but i don't think the terms fandom's operating under are fair to start with, so i'd rather recuse myself (and my interpretation of the character) from it all til we're playing the same game. the sandbox's wide and wild, and the block and mute buttons are there for a reason, so i'll just stay in my corner writing about higashikatas wielding their feelings like sledgehammers til my mum says it's time to go home.

[bongo-clash]

Jason 'Died and didn't even get the T-shirt' Todd, seeing an Entire Glowing, Lazarus-Eyed, Hazmat-Suited Child casually going about their day at a Starbucks like absolutely nothing is out of the ordinary: "Why is Nobody saying anything about that guy over there"

Duke 'Ghost Vision' Thomas, head whipping around at the speed of light: "YOU CAN SEE HIM TOO?????"

Short DPXDC Prompts #472

Lazarus pit people view Halfas in reverse. Example: In Ghost form they view the halfa as a normal person and in their human form they look like a spooky ghost. Jason is quite confused seeing a regular ass teen just flying around the high buildings of Gotham.

[preseriesdean]

if you don’t mind me asking, could you share some of your favorite fanfics or authors? thanks ❤️

oh hi hello!! yes of course!! i actually haven't read any spn fic in a while but i have spent a lot of time organizing my bookmarks. i'm going to assume that you meant samdean fic but i'll add a few non-samdean ones at the end.

authors!

@zmediaoutlet (deadlybride on ao3)

candle_beck (ao3)

@goshen-applecrumbledore (ao3)

whereupon (livejournal)

Linden (ao3)

sevenfists (ao3)

there are so many more great authors but these came to mind :)

fics!

i am going to list my forever-favorites first - the ones i would recommend to anyone and everyone, screaming-from-the-rooftops kind of love - and then many many more under the cut.

beloved by urchinesque (2016, 1.9k, NR, warning: death) It might be the gentlest thing that's ever happened to them.

in my opinion everyone should read this once. it's quick. they die. it's-- happy, somehow. beautiful. i think about it all the time.

Last Day on Earth by candle_beck (2009, 10.8k, E) A list of things to do if you only have one day to live, presented in inconvenient non-list form.

last year my best friend and i were pondering which fic felt quintessential to samdean for us and somehow settled on this one. i still agree with the choice.

Odysseus, American by coyotesuspect (2010, 10k, M) Dean finds Peter O'Toole's recording of the Odyssey in a bin marked “Audio" in Casa Grande's only used bookstore. The place smells like cigarette smoke and old books, and it reminds him of Sam. Stanford era.

my favorite stanford era fic. i think it captures dean's loneliness and desperation beautifully.

A man with his insides out and his outsides off by britomart_is (2016, 5.3k, E, time travel, underage) They say there are only two stories in the world: man goes on a journey, and stranger comes to town.

another fic i want everyone to read. it's so short and feels like a novel. sam is messed up and dean is in love and everything is miserable.

Breathing Hard by whereupon (2009, 9k, E) The day Dean figures it out.

this is so simple and yet-- everything to me. i can't think about dinosaurs without thinking about this fic, which doesn't tell you much, but you'll see. sometimes this is really all you need.

The Last Outpost of All That Is by gekizetsu (2008, 59k, E) The world ends while they’re asleep.

this fic has stayed with me my whole life. i thought about it even during my years away from spn and fandom entirely. they're alone and you don't know why and they build their life together and you end up wondering, is this hell or heaven? whenever i come across a screenshot of the last couple of paragraphs i want to cry.

see things so much clearer by deadlybride (2020, 11.7k, E) Sam's been acting oddly. Dean learns how to use the history on an internet browser and finds out why.

this is a fic that hits the spot for me personally so well. another favorite preseries fic. i love the idea of sam using livejournal, and of dean finding out this way.

Stay The Distance by lazy_daze (2011, 24k, E) Sam is dependent on Dean's touch and closeness after the wall falls - Dean's presence reminds him of why he chose to wake up, and keeps the memories at bay, allowing Sam to function.

i love enmeshment, and i love that here it's literal. i love that they're just sort of fine with it.

more fics below!

in absolutely no particular order whatsover. please check the warnings and tags on these before reading!

Recall by De_Nugis (2012, 6.3k, E) Sam's having a hard time telling what's real and what isn't, especially when it comes to some voicemails from Dean.

Living in god's blind spot by applecrumbledore (2022, 25k, E) Of all the situations Dean didn’t need his dad to see him in, ‘getting off to being pushed around by a guy’ was in the top three. And ‘a guy’ was a massive glossing-over of reality. Any guy—any other guy—would be bad enough, but Sam was fucking cataclysmic.

Almost At Home by balefully (2008, 24.3k, E) Sam graduates from high school in early June in rural Tennessee. He and Dean start the summer with an all-nighter of celebration; the day after, while both fight hangovers, John calls to assign them their first hunt by themselves.

they said it was the fall of man by jukeboxhound (2016, 7.4k, M) Sam gets his soul back on a Monday.

When I Fall Asleep It Is Your Eyes That Close by britomart_is (2009, 1.9k, E) Post-Season Two. Sam is alive. Dean is happy.

Life As We Know It by sevenfists (2007, 13.7k, M, curtain fic) On the morning that Sam woke up, Dean ran five red lights on the way to the hospital, his half-empty coffee cup sloshing in the holder.

tied up like two ships by orphan_account (2014, 3.1k, E) Dean liked to hold hands.

Gospel Truth by Cerberuss (2020, 15.2k, E, case fic) ‘DOES YOUR BROTHER KNOW THAT YOU WANT HIM?’ Individually placed letters, bold and tinged brown with the weather. Sam can’t look away and he prays, dream dream dream.

Buy You A Mockingbird by candle_beck (2011, 10.3k, M, underage, outsider pov) A genuine horror story.

because you want to die for love by hathfrozen (2021, 27.3k, E) Sam and Dean settle into their Heaven—and into each other, too.

the constant vow by deadlybride (2022, 119k, E, fem dean-ish) They've just finished up a pretty standard job and are killing time in snowy Wisconsin when Dean wakes up no longer looking like Dean. That's just the start of their problems.

This Fortress Made of Us by mickeym (2009, 10.8k, E) Sam really didn't do very well without his brother. Coda for Mystery Spot.

State of Love and Trust/As I Busted Down the Pretext by cormallen (2010, 2.9k, M) When you know exactly what your brother's thinking, there are some chances you just don't take.

Quiet with the Rain by Linden (2014, 5.3k, T) Dean can spot an undercover cop at thirty paces, a hooker at twenty, and rims that will match his baby's at ten. But the fact that his little brother is in love with him—that, he can't see worth a damn.

have a cigar by deadlybride (2020, 5.6k, E) What happened with Andy and Ansem unsettles Sam. Dean doesn't seem worried.

Heart Shaped Balloon by winsive (2022, 18.5k, E, underage) Sam and Dad are fighting. No surprise, but it's the weekend before Valentine's Day and Dean isn't missing out on the chance to bang a cheerleader just to console his bratty little brother. He does bring back a heart shaped balloon for him, though. It's not supposed to be cursed.

Bare by gracerene (2022, 2.2k, T) Of all the things Dean hasn't done before, Sam never expected something as innocuous as skinny dipping to be on the list.

Speechless by candle_beck (2008, 11.2k, T, case fic) Dean loses his voice and their rapport is only moderately impaired.

Like It Was Yesterday by nomelon (2014, 4.9k, T, fem dean, amnesia) Sam can't remember a time when Dean wasn't there. Dean is always with him. Sam's whole life, there's never been anyone else.

Like a Ghost with Two Voices by Dyed_Red (2022, 46k, E) To cure Dean from the Mark of Cain, Sam has to let Dean, in all his demonic glory, possess him for 28 days. It goes about as well as expected.

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) by orphan_account (2021, 5.9k, E, pwp) Dean really likes the way Sam smells.

lost in yesterday by margaryes (2023, 1k, NR, john pov) John hasn’t seen his youngest son in 18 months.

Unraveling by Linden (2017, 855 words, E) No, he’d said, the first time Sammy had tried to kiss him, sixteen and half-drunk and stupidly beautiful, even though he’d wanted so badly to say yes.

pack up the moon by deathdreamt (2021, 5.9k, T, pre-slash) Sam storms back out from their room, his backpack on and his duffel hanging off his shoulder and isn’t it kind of tragic that his whole life fits in two bags. He looks suddenly much younger than he is, eyes shining. John is back at his guns, whiskey at his elbow, and Dean can hardly believe how rapidly his life is cracking down the centre.

Yesterday, minnesota by applecrumbledore (2022, 30k, E, case fic) Any initial awkwardness filtered away over a hundred miles of highway as Sam thumbed through the missing witch’s diary again. Some people had secret coke habits or secret second wives, and some people had passionate, pitch black, no-kissing sex with a family member every four to six months and never talked about it. You had to find ways to cope.

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness by orphan_account (2021, 5.6k, E) Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. (soulless sam)

The Palm Oasis by fictionallemons (2022, 12.3k, E, underage) John strands Dean and Sam at a middle-of-nowhere motel while he investigates possible demon omens in Arizona. The place is nothing to write home about, but at least it has a pool. Dean resolves to think of this as a vacation for him and his studious little brother, but when their money runs out sooner than expected, he considers turning tricks at a nearby truck stop so he can feed Sam.

Other Brothers by homo_pink (2020, 7k, M, underage, outsider pov) A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.

Leader of the Pack by astolat (2007, 14.9k, E) Teaching old dogs new tricks.

Underground Wires by eggnogged (2012, 15.8k, E, fem sam, underage) It’s hard enough being a teenage girl even without all the extra crap: they move around all the time, her family is as far removed from normal as it’s possible to get, and she’s in love with her older brother. Sam has no control on any of it, she’s just trying to stay afloat.

Multitude of Sins by Linden (2015, 4.4k, T, outsider pov) Every now and again, Jim Murphy would look up from his altar and find the Winchester boys at the back of his church.

Like Arrows in the Hands of a Warrior by ADeedWithoutaName (2018, 10.3k, E, underage, dub con-ish, john pov) John Winchester loves his boys, and would take a bullet for either of them. He knows that he's doing it right, the way he's raising them, the things he's teaching them. Not every problem, however, has an easy answer. Like what to do after an incubus case in which their target got his pollen all over both of John's sons.

You Can't Lose What You Never Had by nigeltde (2016, 5.6k, E) You can't spend what you ain't got, and you can't lose what you ain't never had.

Flagstaff by Linden (2014, 7.3k, T, pre-slash, john pov) John tracked Sam down in Flagstaff, four days after he got home to find him gone.

I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger by fleshflutter (2007, 3.8k, M, outsider pov) If Chase were a better friend, he might try to end the game now, before Brendan loses even more money. But if Brendan is a dick at Stanford, it’s nothing compared to how he is on break.

Cupid's Got A Gun by geckoholic (2012, 13.5k, E, non-con) Fuck-or-die, set in early S4. But they've been fucking for years, so that shouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong. Ever since hell, Dean's in no hurry to get that show on the road again.

Someone Else's Blood by sevenfists (2006, 6.7k, E) The first time, of course, was an accident. (pretend dating)

How Many Floors to Realize by lazy_daze (2009, 26k, E, swesson) AU from the end of It's A Terrible Life, in which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren't somewhat entertaining, right?

Worthless cartography by applecrumbledore (2022, 15.6k, E) Dean didn’t know what finally made him go for it. The djinn’s dream was a catalyst, but the call was coming from inside the house, and he’d been letting it ring for a very, very long time. (They get one night together right before Sam is taken to Cold Oak. Dean has to deal with that.)

The Space Between Sense and Memory by orphan_account (2021, 4.8k, T) There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t.

Ions in the Ether by nigeltde (2019, 10.9k, E, case fic) When was the last time you trusted happy.

Crossed Wires by rivkat (2015, 10.9k, E) Dean thinks Sam is dead.

Crown and Anchor Me (or let me sail away) by Sena (2010, 23.7k, E, underage) Sam Winchester is fifteen years old, at yet another new high school in yet another state, he doesn't get along with his distant, distracted father, he's figuring out that he likes guys just as much as he likes girls, his clothes never fit and his limbs ache at the joint ever since his growth spurt started, he has to study for the PSAT and, oh yeah, he's a little bit in love with his brother, Dean, who's taken a break from hunting monsters to work at a local garage for minimum wage.

Wear Him Lika a Habit by sevenfists (2008, 2.2k, M) Their first kiss isn't an accident. It's anticipated well in advance, discussed for weeks, argued over, second-guessed.

Amor Prohibido by phoenixflight (2020, 3k, M, underage) They spent the spring of Sam's sophomore year living in a shitty apartment south of San Antonio. Every Friday night the clearest channel played three hour marathons of a Spanish soap called La Casa del Corazón. There was a mutually understood truce about watching it, because the alternatives were infomercials or creepy kids’ cartoons that futzed into static every fifteen seconds.

Open Road by Mollyamory (2010, 2k, T) Sam's old enough to know what's good for him.

It's the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu (2011, 38.4k, time travel) Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see.

North of Wednesday by Mollyamory (2008, 3.5k, G) Sam's behind the wheel before he realizes he doesn't have the keys. Coda to Mystery Spot.

non-wincest fic.

dean/omc. We Drank a Thousand Times by glorious_spoon (2010, 43k, M, warning: death) They meet in a bar fight in North Carolina when Dean is nineteen, broke, and desperate, then again when a hunt brings the Winchesters into town a few years later. Neither one of them ever puts a name to it but every once in a while, through the years, Dean finds his way back.

dean/cas: terror & desire intertwined by rupertgayes (2022, 39k, M) Faced with Castiel suffering a fate worse than death, Dean makes the decision to let Cas use his body as a temporary vessel. All things considered, Dean thinks, it could have gone worse.

gen, sam&dean: what lasts by deadlybride (2021, 17.2k, M) Not long after they move into the bunker, Dean loses a leg. Most of a leg. After the hospital, Sam brings him home, and they figure out how to live with what remains.

gen, dean-centric: To Repair Broken Men by procrastin8or951 (2015, 3.1k, T) Dad and Sam keep fighting. Dean can't fix his family, so he fixes things around the crappy apartment they are staying in.

dean/michael: our hour came round at last by orphan_account (2015, 1.8k, NR, pwp) "I want to be inside you," says Michael, low and velvet and hungry and that really shouldn't turn Dean on but it does.

dean/lucifer, dean/cas: exploratory by sp8ce (2022, 4.9k, E, non-con) One night, Castiel proposes he and Dean have sex. Except it's a little more complicated than that.

dean/cas: for a healthy heart by Askance (2013, 2.4k, T) A strange black box appears in Castiel's bedroom one afternoon.

gen, sam&dean: charmer & gentle by Askance (2015, 3.7k, G, outsider pov) The afternoon girl calls them Big and Tall, the strangers who come in late every now and then, buying this or that. The night girl doesn't think those names fit quite right.

dean/cas, past sam/dean: whose wings, though tattered, shall carry me home by fleshflutter (2009, 2.2k, T) There is a breeze moving across the field. It stirs the long grass in lapping waves like the sea. Castiel runs his fingertips through it and remembers flying.

[hotwaterandmilk]

2024 English language manga releases I'm enjoying

Here are a couple of titles I've picked up in English so far this year that I've enjoyed. Most of these I read digitally in Japanese for one or two volumes a couple of years back, but opted to wait and purchase the English print versions for my collection.

I feel like all of these books are worth the purchase price, but don't have the energy to do individual posts for each of them. So here's a very smooshed together post covering a few 2024 reads.

GOGOGOGO-GO-GHOST! from Yen Press

Akechi Ushiro is a heavily flawed, hard-working woman whose disregard for her own wellbeing results in her coming face-to-face with her equally flawed guardian spirit, Masako. The pair decide to combine their forces and begin tackling the obstacles in Ushiro's life using curses.

Hiruzuka Miyako's darkly funny tale of a woman taking control of her life alongside her queer sister spirit is such a delight . Featuring a rough-and-ready art style that helps underscore the macabre elements at play, the entire first volume is scathing in its humour and unashamed in its portrayal of Ushiro's flaws. I was surprised when this one got picked up by Yen Press a while back, but so happy to see it enjoying a stateside release. If you're after something that doesn't always play nice, GOGOGOGO-GO-GHOST! might well be for you.

Edit: If you haven't read it before, this Japanese interview with Hiruzuka is worth reading for a bit more on her background and the creation of the series.

Pass the Monster Meat, Milady! (Akujiki Reijou to Kyouketsu Koushaku) from Kodansha USA

A sweet little fantasy romance between two individuals who find solace in one another despite being reviled by the general public for their interest in monsters. One loves defeating monsters in battle while the other loves cooking them!

Melphiera is a smart, capable heroine while Aristide Rogier du Galbraith is a dashing and supportive hero. The manga art is a bit low in detail, but the characters and story are absolutely worth your time. I'd love to see the LNs that the manga adapts in English someday too. I mentioned in tags before this whole series gives me the types of vibes I enjoy in historical fantasy romance novels, so if you like that kind of content this might be a good title to check out (or recommend to friends who appreciate romantasy but haven't tried manga before).

In The Name of The Mermaid Princess (Mio no Na no Moto ni) from VIZ Media

In a country where being "unhuman" or in some way supernaturally inclined is seen as a curse rather than a blessing, Princess Mio takes medications to suppress her mermaid-esque traits and please her father. Her perspective changes when Yuri, a tutor from her fiance's home kingdom, encourages her to be herself and embrace the things that make her different.

I've seen people say this is a bit too obvious in its parallels between fantasy oppression and IRL issues, but this is a Ribon manga for young girls so yeah it's on the nose but I think it works for the audience it has in mind. Tashiro Miya's artwork here is gorgeous and both leads are quite endearing (Mio is SO freakin adorable I can'ttttt). Overall a solid little series with nicely packaged volumes for those after something for a younger audience.

The Moon on a Rainy Night (Amayo no Tsuki) from Kodansha USA

A romantic slice-of-life tale featuring two high school girls, one of whom is a budding pianist (Saki) and the other a loner who is hard of hearing (Kanon).

I don't normally go much on high school romance but the way this series blends classic GL melodrama tropes with genuine issues in an earnest manner works for me. While we see things more from Saki's viewpoint as she eagerly tries to learn more about Kanon and tries to figure out her own sexuality, we do also come to understand Kanon's thwarted ambitions and the difficulties she has with letting people in.

Kuzushiro's art is quite whispy and cute, with all the characters tending to look quite well-realised on the page. While I prefer romances that feature a character with disability to centre their perspective, I do feel this does a decent job of portraying both girls as they try to navigate their deepening relationship. YMMV on this though, particularly if you are d/Deaf or hard of hearing.

Sketchy from Kodansha USA

Ako is living an unfulfilling life with a dull job and even duller boyfriend, but she suddenly finds herself thrust into a whole new world upon encountering a mysterious young skateboarder.

Sketchy, while ostensibly about women taking up skateboarding is more a snapshot of their individual lives and the role having a hobby plays once you're no longer a child. Ako's story particularly resonates with me (I literally worked her job at a similar age) but all the characters prove interesting in their own way.

Makihirochi's art is a bit more experimental than others on this list and may not be to everyone's taste, but I do think Sketchy is still worth checking out even if you're not entirely sold on the art (which I think has improved since I first became familiar with her work through Itsuka Tiffany de Choushoku o in Comic Bunch). Titles like this, which, let's face it, have low levels of mainstream appeal, don't often get English language releases so I highly recommend supporting this one if you have the opportunity to do so.

[xxspringmelodyxx]

Regrets~

Choso x reader (Hella Angst)

I’m in literal tears. Gege, literally sleep with one eye open tonight >:((((

Warnings: Contains spoilers, sad, sad, and sad

________________________

You strolled through the bustling city streets, reveling in the lively atmosphere as you searched for the perfect gift.

"So, when are you finally going to tell him? I’m losing my patience over here!" Yuki's voice burst through the phone, brimming with excitement at the prospect of you confessing your deep love.

"Easy, Yuki. I'll wait until he gets back from his trip. I can't believe you talked me into this. I just hope everything goes as planned," you replied, trying to mask the nerves creeping in.

”Oh come on now, n/n! If Choso doesn’t feel the same way about you, then I’ve been living a whole lie. I mean just looking at him whenever you are around makes me almost burst out laughing because of how red he gets. Or when he can barely come up with a proper sentence to say because he can’t think straight when he is around you. Or the fact that he gets so pissed when he sees you going on a mission with another man besides him. Or when-“

"Alright, alright, I hear you, Yuki," you interrupted, unable to suppress a laugh at her fervor. Despite her convincing arguments, doubt lingered in your mind.

"I guess it's just my own insecurities speaking."

"Tell those insecurities to fuck right off! You and Choso are a match made in heaven. If you two don't end up together, I'll lose faith in love altogether," Yuki retorted, her sarcasm laced with sincerity, eliciting a giggle from you.

"I just hope he comes back soon. It's been two weeks since we last spoke, and I'm getting restless. I miss hearing his voice and gazing into his eyes," you confessed.

"Aww, you're melting my heart over here!" Yuki cooed affectionately.

Yuki’s affectionate response brought a faint smile to your lips, momentarily lifting the heavy weight of sorrow from your heart.

“I’m serious, Y/N,” she continued, her tone soft yet playful. “You two are like characters straight out of a romance novel. It’s about time you two realize it.”

You chuckled lightly, grateful for Yuki’s unwavering optimism even in the face of your own doubts.

“Thanks, Yuki,” you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of warmth. “I needed that.”

“No problem, n/n,” Yuki replied, her voice filled with genuine care. “Just remember, whenever you’re ready to tell Choso how you feel, I’ll be here to cheer you on.”

You smiled, thanking her for always making you feel better.

As you continued to talk to her about the whole situation, you kept your eyes peeled for the perfect gift that would capture the essence of your love for Choso. And then, just when you least expected it, you stumbled upon it: a beautiful, handcrafted necklace adorned with a delicate silver charm. It was just the thing you were looking for.

’Oh, I gotta go girl. I think I just found the perfect gift for Choso.” You spoke.

Yuki’s voice echoed with anticipation as she bid you farewell. “Ooh, I can’t wait to hear all about it later! And remember, if you need any last-minute pep talks, I’m just a phone call away.”

You ended the call as you two said your goodbyes, quickly walking into the store that caught your attention.

You walked right up to where the necklace was and held it in your hand, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“He will love this.”

You made your way to the cashier, excitement coursing through your veins. This gift, you knew, would convey everything you had been unable to put into words. The depth of your love, the sincerity of your affection, and the promise of a future filled with endless possibilities.

“Oh goodness, this is a gorgeous piece. Is It for you or a lucky someone?” The cashier asked, her eyes scanning the necklace.

”It’s for someone. I hope he likes it.”

”Oh honey, I’m sure he will just love it. It is absolutely gorgeous.” She said, scanning the price tag.

”I thought so too. The perfect gift for the perfect man.” You said, feeling a pleasant warmth spread throughout your chest.

”Careful dear, keep thinking about that special boy and soon the blood will rush to your face so soon you’ll pass out.” She teased.

I looked away, a smile creeping up on my face again as I listened to her.

”Here you are, dear. I hope whoever this fine young man is realizes just how lucky he is to have someone like you.” She spoke with endearment.

I thanked her and paid for the necklace, leaving the store.

As you made your way home, the thought of finally being able to express your feelings to Choso filled you with a sense of joy and anticipation.

As you entered your apartment, the familiar warmth of home enveloped you, soothing the lingering traces of doubt and uncertainty that had clouded your mind. Settling onto the couch, you retrieved the necklace from your pocket, cradling it with your hands as you admired its delicate craftsmanship.

You decided to turn on a movie to allow time to pass, still holding onto the necklace.

—

As the movie played in the background, you found yourself lost in thought. With each passing scene, memories of Choso flooded your mind, each one a sweet, sweet reminder of the love you held for him.

Lost in the timeless embrace of cinematic magic, your fingers danced delicately over the intricate patterns of the necklace, their movements a silent testament to the depths of your affection. With each stroke, you traced the curves and contours of the pendant, weaving a tapestry of longing and devotion that shimmered in the soft glow of the room.

As the hours slipped by unnoticed, the vibrant hues of the daytime sky gradually gave way to the velvety darkness of night. A symphony of stars adorned the heavens, their celestial glow painting a breathtaking tableau against the midnight canvas. The moon, a luminous beacon of silver, cast its gentle radiance over the sleeping city below, bathing it in a soft, ethereal light.

Beneath the canopy of stars, you stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air caressing your skin like a gentle embrace. The city below lay bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, its bustling energy now hushed in the tranquil embrace of the night.

As you stood there, enveloped in the serenity of the nocturnal world, a sense of peace washed over you, soothing the tumultuous currents of your heart. With each breath, you felt a profound connection to the universe, a reminder of the boundless beauty that surrounded you.

Leaning against the balcony railing, you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be swept away by the symphony of night sounds—the distant hum of traffic, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, the occasional chirp of a cricket. In this moment of quiet contemplation, you felt a deep sense of gratitude for the simple pleasures that life had to offer.

As the night wore on, a gentle weariness settled over you, a welcome invitation to the realm of dreams. With a contented sigh, you bid farewell to the stars above, their twinkling light a silent companion in the vast expanse of the night sky.

As you retreated indoors, the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window cast a serene ambiance over the room, painting everything in a gentle luminescence. With each step towards your bed, you felt the weight of the day's emotions lifting, replaced by a tranquil sense of calm.

Nestling under the covers, you cradled the necklace in your hands, its delicate contours glinting softly in the ambient light. As you closed your eyes, the soft rustle of the night breeze outside whispered secrets of love and longing, a soothing lullaby that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

With the necklace nestled beside you, its presence a silent promise of the love that lay within your heart, you surrendered to the embrace of sleep.

—

As the morning unfolded, dark clouds hung low in the sky, casting a pall over the city. The sound of rain tapping against the window panes filled the air, a somber melody that matched the heaviness in your heart.

Groggily, you reached for your phone, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the dimly lit room. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw a flurry of missed calls and messages from Yuki, her name flashing urgently on the screen.

With a sense of growing unease, you opened the messages, each one a testament to Yuki’s increasing concern:

”Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“Y/N, are you okay? I’ve been trying to reach you all morning”

“Please, answer me. Something’s wrong.”

“I’m coming over. If you’re not okay, I need to be there for you.”

Confusion and worry knotted in your stomach as you quickly dialed Yuki’s number, the anticipation building with each ring.

“Y/N, thank goodness you called back,” Yuki’s voice trembled with urgency on the other end of the line.

”Yuki, what’s wrong? Is everything alright?” You asked, confused as to whats got her all riled up

“You mean…you don’t know?” She asked, her voice trembling and breaking.

”Know what? What’s going on, Yuki?” You asked, growing anxious as she kept quiet.

”You need to turn on the news.” She spoke quietly, almost as if she was trying to hold back a sob.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you made your way to the living room, the rain drumming a mournful beat against the windows. Fumbling for the remote, you switched on the television, your heart pounding in your chest.

And then, as the screen flickered to life, your worst fears were confirmed. The news anchor’s voice filled the room, delivering the devastating news that Choso, the man you loved, was dead.

Shock reverberated through you, a numbness settling over your senses as you struggled to comprehend the enormity of the loss. Tears blurred your vision as you read the scrolling ticker at the bottom of the screen, each word a dagger to your shattered heart.

In that moment of agonizing despair, you clung to your phone like a lifeline, scrolling through the messages from Yuki once more. Each one a plea for reassurance, a desperate attempt to reach out across the void of grief and offer solace in the face of overwhelming sorrow.

And as you stood there, enveloped in the suffocating grip of loss, all you could do was hold onto the memories of the love you shared, a fragile beacon of light in the darkness of despair.

As the news sank in, a gut-wrenching wave of disbelief and anguish washed over you, threatening to engulf you in its relentless grip. “No… no, no, no, NO!!!” you screamed out, the words torn from the depths of your soul as if pleading with the universe to undo the cruel twist of fate.

With trembling hands, you sank to the ground, the weight of the news bearing down on you like a crushing weight. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, each sob echoing the shattered pieces of your heart.

In that moment of raw, unfiltered agony, time seemed to stand still, the world around you fading into a haze of pain and despair. The reality of Choso’s absence loomed over you like a dark specter, a gaping void where once there had been love and laughter.

Clutching your phone to your chest, you curled into yourself, the ache of loss consuming you from the inside out. How could this be happening? How could the man you loved, the man you had dared to hope for a future with, be taken from you so suddenly, so senselessly?

You realized with a pang of despair that you would never get the chance to finally confess to Choso how much you loved him. The words you had longed to speak, the feelings you had kept hidden deep within your heart, now seemed like a cruel joke, forever out of reach. How could you have been so foolish, so blind to the fleeting nature of time? How could you have let fear and doubt rob you of the chance to lay bare your soul to the one person who mattered most?

Tears mingled with raindrops as you lay there, consumed by a maelstrom of grief and regret. The ache of loss tore at your insides, a relentless reminder of all that had been lost in the blink of an eye.

—

Weeks had passed since the day Choso had left this world, yet the pain of his absence remained as raw and agonizing as ever. With each passing day, the ache in your heart had only grown more pronounced, a relentless reminder of all that had been lost.

Now, as you stood before his gravestone, the weight of grief bore down on you like a burden too heavy to bear. Raindrops fell softly from the sky, mingling with the tears that streamed down your cheeks, a testament to the depths of your sorrow.

Clutching the necklace in your hand, you knelt before the stone marker, the cold, unforgiving earth pressing against your knees. The words engraved upon the marble surface blurred in your vision, obscured by the haze of tears that clouded your sight.

"I'm so sorry, Choso," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I'm sorry that I never got the chance to tell you how much you meant to me, how much I loved you."

The words spilled from your lips in a torrent of anguish, each syllable heavy with regret and longing. With trembling hands, you reached out to trace the letters of his name, as if by touching them, you could somehow bring him back to life.

"I miss you," you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper against the backdrop of the falling rain. "Every day, every moment, I miss you more than words can say. I wish I could turn back time, to tell you how much you meant to me, to hold you in my arms just one more time."

But the only response that greeted your words was the echo of your own sorrow, the silence of the graveyard offering no solace, no comfort in the face of your overwhelming grief.

With a heavy heart, you placed the necklace atop the gravestone, a small offering of love and remembrance in the vast expanse of loss.

Your trembling hands traced the outline of his gravestone, fingers tracing the engraved letters that spelled out his name. Each stroke was a tender caress, a silent tribute to the man you had loved so deeply.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to the cool marble surface, a bittersweet kiss that spoke volumes of the love that still burned within your heart. You, lost in a sea of grief and regret, felt the gentle touch of familiar hands on your shoulders, pulling you back to the present moment. Yuki and Yuuji stood beside you, their presence a source of solace in the midst of your despair.

“I just wish I could have told him. So that he at least knows…” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears. The anguish in your heart spilled over, manifesting in sobs that wracked your body with each passing moment.

“He knows,” Yuki’s voice was soft yet resolute, her words a balm to your wounded soul. “Choso knew, Y/N. He knew how much you loved him, even if the words were never spoken.”

Her words hung in the air, a gentle reminder that love transcended the boundaries of time and space, reaching beyond the realm of the living to touch the hearts of those who had passed on. And in that moment, as the rain continued to fall, washing away the traces of sorrow that clung to your skin, you felt a glimmer of peace take root within you.

With a shaky breath, you nodded in acknowledgment, the weight of your grief still heavy upon your shoulders but somehow more bearable in the presence of those who cared for you. And as you stood there, surrounded by the love and support of your friends, you knew that even in death, Choso’s spirit would continue to watch over you, a guardian angel guiding you through the darkest of nights.

And as you stood there, your tears mingling with the rain that fell from the heavens above, you made a solemn vow to carry Choso's memory with you always, to honor his life with every breath you took.

For even in death, his spirit would live on in the love that had bound you together, a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space, a love that would endure for all eternity.

——————————————————————

[f4iry-bell]

UPGRADED

pairing: grayson hawthorne x desi!reader (but can be read as wtv you wish too)

summary: you haven't seen your bf fimor months giving your distance, he has his way of making sure your travel is as comfortable as possible.

warning: none

tagging: @unnoodles @nqds @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny198 @imaseabear @never-enough-novels @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou

word count: 324

a/n: requested by @never-enough-novels

masterlist | desi reader masterlist

It has been a very tiring semester for you but finally the semester break is here. What made your day even better was the fact that your boyfriend called you at eight P.M even though he lives half the world away, it's cute how he has your country’s time in his clock app and always checks it to call at the right time.

“Hey” you answered the call with a smile on your face.

“How was your day?” He asked as you got comfortable on the mattress.

“Tiring, my exam was okay. I'm just happy it's over.” You told him.

“Me too. You complained too much about it.” He chuckled.

“Try being a college student, Harvard dropout.” You rolled your eyes.

“I'm sure I won't survive it.”

“We both know it's a lie. But okay.”

“Seriously, you make it sound so hard.”

“You're making fun of me.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Jerk.”

He chuckled. “So have you booked the ticket you insisted on buying yourself?”

“I did. I don't think I got the best seat but at least it's better than not seeing you.” You told him.

“Oh. I could always get you the good ones.” He said, it's true.

“Nope. We are not doing that. You won't buy my tickets.”

“Alright, alright.”

_

Five days later you were packed and ready to go see your boyfriend. When you went to the airport you did not expect the lady who worked there to tell you that you've been upgraded to first class. It was shocking but not surprising giving who you are dating.

You called him. “You landed already? That's impossible.” He said.

“You upgraded me.”

“Yes.”

“I asked you to not do that.”

“No, sweetheart. You asked me not to buy your ticket.”

You sighed. “I don't know if I should yell at you or tell you how much I love you.”

“The second one, though I wouldn't mind the first one either.”

[echantedtoon]

Ocean Deep Ch11 A Husband...Some Wives???

(Warnings:   Rengoku cursing and semi threatening Akira, mentions of the mers mistreatment,etc.

Y'all simps are going to eat with this one. Apologies for the short chapter. This is a sorta filter before the real meaty chapters ahead.)

taglist: @six-eyed-samurai @lavenderdrxp @jjamsbangtan @camilo-uwu @hopefulworld1

@shadyd3ar @amypop122

Remember if you wanna be added to the tag list lemme know.

The silence was deafening as you were in the middle of being held up by Rengoku. Warmth enveloped every part of your body and fireworks of fluster lit up in your mind. The image of the man lifting you bridal style into his arms and pressed against the upper part of his bare, toned chest and facing up into the fiery eyes just inches away from your own. The smile both handsome as it was happy and loving for whomever it was aimed at.

Amongst the fireworks was a blank white sheet blocking out and rationality shoving at the wall and screeching out to the mind closed off to it. However the mind's focus was thinking about other things. Like how nice the body was leaning against you. How soft the hands were that held your face. How handsome the face suddenly was. How gentle the arms were holding you. How warm the lips were pressed back into yours. 

Rengoku hummed as he once again dove down dipping the woman in his hold and pressed into a passionate kiss you've only seen other couples do and read in romance novels. The same kind of passion that he'd shown his other three wives. Only now he's satisfying an itch he's been feeling for the past half month. He had no idea he could fall for another so much but he couldn't help it. The heart thudding in his chest whenever she would be so loving towards him, but what really made him fall for her was the way she interacted with his wives. The way you'd coo at and comfort Suma's emotional outburst as she'd cry into your shoulder. The way you'd look at Makio and all it took was one understanding sentence to quench her moody behavior. How you'd actually be vulnerable to Hinatsuru and allowed her to comfort your current stressful state. You got a long so well with them...It was like you were one of their own already. And you had gotten along so well with him despite knowing him you always smiled at him. Always smiled at him. Always laughed whenever he tried to cheer you up. It was destiny. 

He almost all but forgot about the uninvited spectator in the doorway until he happened to open his eyes again and see the shocked man still frozen solid in the doorway. An immediate  wave of rage filled his body. This man and his sickening blood was responsible for taking away his wives and his family being torn apart. Responsible for all of the misery and mistreatment they suffered. Responsible for his husband crying tears and nearly tearing his own scales out from worry and fear every night they were gone. And now he dare come back here and face him while begging for you- His wife and the reason any of them are still alive!! To abandoned them and run away together like some stupid love unrealistic love ending from some fairytale! No!...Oh no no no. Not again. He already lost his wives once and gained you. He wasn't about to lose any again so easily a second time. 

A hiss escaped his throat and if his face wasn't angled slightly down, Akira would've seen the large inhuman fangs stuck in his maw. "L E A V E." A snarl enraged and flowing full with a fearful edge pushed out of his chest."Get out of my sight and don't come back. You're not welcome here."

Akira shook. Lip trembling as he stared at the shocked woman who seemed somewhere between shock and absolute whiplash. "Y-You have no R-Right! Wha-What man do you think you are?!"

As if reliving a scene right out of the most scary ghost story. As the blonde head of fire shot back and laughed out. A loud sinister laugh that was condescending and rude and mocking, yet it was boisterous and happy. A scarily terrifying indeed. 

"More of a man than you are! You're a mere boy compared to even a child. No woman would lower their standards enough to do anything with you! You really think my wife would leave me alone for an immature little narcissistic minnow pretending to be a shark when you're far from being the biggest fish in the pond? No. You are nothing. Even compared to the ground you walk on you are nothing. Nothing but a clingy barnacle who is never going to change even if it'll mean becoming a better person. You're greedy, obsessive, and probably would only treat her like another toy until you're bored easily again and seek your own amusement somewhere else..No. No no no. You're not claiming that here. Now leave this sanctuary you only stain and don't let the door hit you on the way out...Or please do. It might knock some sense and decency into your stupidly thick head."

The eyes molded and melted with malice and hate not letting up on the other..Until like a scared prey, he backed up and left . Rengoku's head followed the sounds of the footsteps as they echoed throughout the hallway until eventually the sounds of a door opening and closing sounded off making the merman sigh. 

That was a close one. If that man had come any closer, his true identity would've been exposed or worse. He could've seen his wives hiding under the water. Then they all would've been in big trouble. Eventually there was a shift in water as Hinatsuru poked her head slowly out of the water right by his hip. 

"Is he gone?," she asked barely above a whisper.

He didn't answer right away still listening to the silence before nodding. "Yes. Yes he's gone. Good riddance."

She sighed in relief rising further out of the water leaning on the edge just as the other two poked their heads out. "Oh thank goodness. I was terrified just hearing his voice again." Her hand pressed against her chest. "My heart is still pounding in my chest I was so worried." 

The tension in his body melted upon hearing her tone. Looking at them, all three looked genuinely horrified by what just happened. The fear was truly real and deep for them. But he wouldn't let them be scared again. No no no no. He'd never allow any of his wives to be hurt again but the only way to ensure that they were was for them all to leave this place. And the only one who could make that happen was currently in his arms frozen-.....OH GODS!! Y/N!! HE'D COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN ABOUT HER!!

"Y/N!" He jumped mentally cursing himself for forgetting and looked to the frozen, red faced, wide eyed woman in his arms. "Ms. L/n?" He jostled her a bit. "A-Are you alright?!"

You continued to stare at the ceiling. "...M' good." You squeaked out as meak as a spooked mouse. 

Rengoku stared at you- Before a flurry of more giggles behind him made him jolt. Despite their earlier fear, they couldn't help but giggle at them again. Making him snap to them red faced and frowning.

"N-N-Now you three s-stop that!," he barked out flustered. "I-I was merely saving her like she did me!"

"With a kiss?," Makio asked with a raised brow.

"It was an act to fool him! Besides, s-she also saved me with her medical kissing!"

"I-IT WASN'T A KISS!!" 

You finally found your voice amongst the blank scene until your mind finally answered and you went full red face blushing. All that was going through your head was you got kissed by a handsome merman, you got kissed by a handsome merman, you got kissed by a handsome merman over and over again! The shock of your sudden shout caused all four of them to jump and Rengoku quickly laid you back down onto the floor. You were quick to scoot away from him and sit up. And then the five of you all just sorta say there staring at one another for a long while until eventually you reached out to touch your mouth and look at Rengoku again.

".....Did you just kiss me?!"

"YES!!," he shouted proudly despite his heavily blushing face and crossed his arms. "You saved my life and so I figured I'd return the favor! It was the very least I could do after you've been doing so much for us!"

"Why kiss me then?!," you shouted flustered. He didn't have to kiss you! Why'd he kiss you?!

"My first thought to make him go away was to pretend to be your spouse and it worked! The kisses were so he actually thought we were together!"

"You didn't have to kiss me?!"

He hummed blinking, losing his smile, and tilting his head. "Oh? Was that wrong? Or was I a bad kisser? We can redo it again it you were displeased-"

"NO!!" You held up your head shouting and feeling your face burn red. The girls giggled at you both as you held up your hands. "THE KISSES WEREN'T THE PROBLEM!!"

"So you did enjoy them!" He lit up again. "Good! I aim to please!"

"YOU'RE GETTING OFF TOPIC!! I NEVER EVEN KISSED ANYONE BEFORE!! A- AND THIS WAS TOO MUCH-"

"So I was your first kiss and it was good? EXCELLENT! IM GLAD ALL MY WIVES ARE PLEASED!!"

"W-WIFE?! I NEVER-...YOU DIDN'T-...I MEAN-...." Your flustered face slapped into your hands. "AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!"  Your slightly muffled scream bounced off the walls and they all looked pleased at their handy work. ...Wait a minute. You peeked between your fingers and stared at them. "Wait...Did you say wives? We're not married?!"

Again he tilted his head confused. "We're not? I thought it was obvious that the ceremony was completed as soon as we kissed."

"OH! I get it!" Suma shot up a hand. "It's not official yet because we haven't kissed her yet."

Kyojuro lit up once more. "You're absolutely right, Suma! How could we have forgotten something so simple. She's not married until we all initiate her in!"

You stared blank trying to process what was happening. "What?"

"ME NEXT!"

"HEY!" Makio shouted as Suma clumsily shoved her aside and practically crashed through the others just to get through.

You weren't sure what was happening. One moment Suma was pulling herself up onto the edge of the tub, the next she was grabbing your cheeks and kissing you making you go wide eyed again as she did it with an overdramatic 'MWAH' sound that got Makio growling from annoyance.

"Ok! That's long enough for you! Scoot over, Kelpbrain!" Suma squeaked and then whined when Makio roughly grabbed her by the back of her dress and yanked her back before taking her place. You didn't even have time to recover before you were kissed yet again by the yellow banged mermaid.

"NOT FAIR!! KYOJURO GOT TO KISS HER TWICE!!," Suma whined pulling on Makio's arm as she kissed your blank mind and looked at Kyojuro. "KYOOOOO!! MAKE HER SHARE!!"

He chuckled at them. "Now, Suma. Hinatsuru hasn't even gotten a chance to kiss her yet. Let us all love her equally as good wives and husbands should!"

Makio left. You stared at the wall ahead. "....EH?!" 

You STILL did not get a chance to recover from anything as two hands gently turned your head and you briefly saw Hinatsuru smiling at you before you were once again kissed. Albeit a lot more gentle compared to the three others. Taking the moment Kyojuro slid one of the many rings decorating his fingers off, a gold one with a bright green emerald, and reached out. Your left hand was taken from the floor limply and with ease the ring slipped on perfectly over your ring finger just as Hinatsuru back away smiling so happily at you.

"There now. So beautiful and perfect for us." He cooed happily rubbing a thumb over the jewel and your hand. "We'll have to get you to meet Tengen to actually get things settled, but I'm sure he'll love you as soon as he sees you. Mrs. Uzui."

You could only stare. The weight on your hand feeling heavy as Suma pulled you into a side hug and the others looked so happy with themselves. "...HUH?!"

[naomiwritesbooks]

How to get better at writing dialogue

1. USE TAGS SPARINGLY!

Tags are often at the end of a dialogue and can be seen as; she said, she shouted, he grumbled, or they muttered. Now, there is nothing wrong with tags; the problem comes with using them too often. When I first started writing, I would use a tag for every little bit of dialogue. This can become repetitive for your reader, a sign that you're a beginner at writing.

2. USE DESCRIPTION

Instead of using she said, in every instance, use a description after the dialogue referring to the character speaking. For example,

Instead of:

“I already told you I didn't move your damned wallet,” I said.

TRY:

“I already told you I didn't move your damned wallet.” My face screwed up as I walked away. I can't believe he would accuse me. Was he not my best friend before her?

So instead of using a tag, try using an action after dialogue and only using tags to make a point. For example, if someone is whispering or grumbling, or if you absolutely have to.

2.DON’T LET CHARACTERS SAY WHAT THEY WANT!

Its very important not to let your characters say exactly what their thinking; at least not at first. What makes dialogue interesting is when characters don't say exactly what their thinking. For instance at the beginning of a romance novel you might not want your main character to admit she hates her boyfriend and is cheating on him, because in reality we don’t always say what we want or do what we should. That's what makes dialogue interesting.

FOR EXAMPLE

INSTEAD OF:

He leaned in to kiss my cheek, and I couldn't help but pull away. “Tommy, this isn't working. Let's break up.”

His eyebrows came together before he laughed bitterly. “Why, because you're cheating on me with the football captain? I saw his jersey under your bed this morning.”

TRY:

He leaned in to kiss my cheek, and I couldn't help but pull away. “Tommy, this isn't working–” I sighed, cutting myself off.

His eyebrows came together with a thick line between them. It was written all over his face; he knew what I was talking about. “What isn't working?” he works his mouth slowly.

“This… whatever,” I motioned between us. “This is…”

His eyebrows came together. “You're breaking up with me,” he says not so much as a question but a statement. He laughed bitterly. “That's rich.”

It takes everything within me not to yell. “Do you think this is funny?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “It's not funny. Its because of him isn't it?”

My heart drops to my stomach. There's no way he knows. “W-who?”

“You really want to play dumb right now? Why is his Jersey under your bed?”

Every bone in me goes cold, and my mind shortcuts like a cable with spilled water on it. I try to form a sentence but fail. “Whose jersey?”

“You know whose jersey, Star,” he bites out.

As a reader, you can see that it's more enjoyable when characters don't say exactly what they want. It's a poor example, but imagine that prior to this argument in the story, Tommy notices Star has been Distant and does not mention it, and Star has been playing the perfect girlfriend when she's been secretly cheating. See how that tension has been bubbling because they're both not saying what they want? That's gold.

Hopefully, this will help with your writing. These are just a few things I've picked up on!

[skyfallscotland]

@heartfeltletters-written asked me 💥 How do you feel about criticism? and it felt like something that needed its own post, so here goes: the hypocrisy of critics in modern fandoms, an essay.

Criticism. I don't like getting it or giving it when it comes to writing. I struggle to even gently give it to friends, even when they ask me what I think of their work. Writing is such a personal thing that we pour our heart and soul into and like you say, many criticisms aren't necessarily valid. By that I mean, there's a difference between "Amy you use em dashes a lot babe" (I do) and "This story would have been so much better if Remi were a virgin" (actual criticism I have received, lmao). 

Unlike traditional authors, we will never make money from this, we do it for the love of it and it's time we will never get back. For some of us, it's time we could be working on our own original manuscripts too. I don't think people who give the second type of criticism are writers, generally. They don't understand the craft and what goes into it. Whenever I post and someone says a chapter was short or they immediately ask when the next one is, and that's all they say, I die inside a little. I try not to take it personally, but it's hard.

Personally, I think fandom behaviour is getting worse and that flows over into our comment sections and tumblr asks. I have a whole other dissertation on this that we’ll call ‘the slow death of fandom as we know it: an essay’, but that’s perhaps for another post. I don’t know how welcomed that commentary would be. 

You said the word ‘entitled’ in your original ask and I think that’s spot on. People have become more entitled in general and downright rude (which is not restricted to online spaces, by the way). I write for ACOTAR, but you’ve never seen me discuss it here because no matter what you say in that regard, you can’t win. Someone will always attack you and I do mean attack. Even in regards to Fourth Wing, I don't talk about my opinions a lot outside of my own little bubble of friends and readers.

And that's the kicker to this whole conversation, really. If I were to criticise Iron Flame/RY everyone would jump down my throat (as has happened on other platforms), even though I'd never say it to her face. Do I stand by my opinions? Absolutely. But it would be rude to tell her them, unless asked. I’m not allowed to (validly) criticise certain elements of her story, a published novel, without being attacked for it, but those same people are fine criticising my work directly to me. Hypocrisy at its finest.

There’s a new influx of people to fandom spaces who are completely unwilling to integrate and completely unwilling to be kind. You mentioned those who criticised your work could have saved themselves the trouble and read the tags, but the thing is: they don’t want to. They can’t be bothered to take five seconds and figure out how they work, to curate their own experience, because that’s what half these people are like. They want an algorithm to do it for them, gods help us.

For me, personally, I'm my biggest critic. I also have raging generalised anxiety, so just posting on the internet is enough to send me spiralling (seriously, I feel sick just typing this out). It's very, very out of my comfort zone and I've been very, very lucky so far to have cultivated the readership I have, full of very like-minded people. Perhaps due to some of the darker content matter. But the second I get harshly worded comments, I get upset.

I don't say that to elicit sympathy, it's just a fact. I get upset about it the same way I would if you were standing in front of me saying it to my face, and for someone with depression and anxiety, that lingers. I'm getting better at laughing at them, but it's like when someone tells you they don't like you and your mum says "just ignore them"—not that easy, right? 

So yeah, I don't mind if you want to tell me I use a lot of em dashes, or that I've used a word incorrectly in context, but I don't need to hear how much you hate original character fic when you could just use your last remaining braincell the back button and continue on with your day. Just be kind, is all I'm saying.

[rafyki]

Making a new post so it's easier to scroll lol

Ten People I'd Like to Know Tag: tagged by @chubbybunny25 and @inhabitinganotheruniverse ! Thank you so much!! <33

Last song: Blue Hour by Tomorrow x Together!

Favorite color: Yellow

Last book: Right now I'm reading "Il depositario dell'eco" by Carlotta Martello (she's a new italian author and this is her debut novel)

Last movie: I don't watch many movies tbh, so I can't exactly remember the last movie I watched from start to finish, but last week my students at school were watching Gladiator and I was in the classroom with them, so I guess we can count that lmao

Last TV show: If we're counting animes, then it's Ao no exorcist; otherwise it's Caged Again the series!!

Sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet and savory both! Don't make me choose please lmao but absolutely not spicy! I can't stand it at all

Relationship status: married in my mind with a couple of beautiful men, but if we don't count that then I'm single

Last thing I Googled: hos to say "fare il tifo" in english (it's "rooting for" and i knew that but I couldn't remember lmao)

Current obsession(s): Do i even have to say it lmao Jack and Joker of course! The way they've taken over my mind is insane actually

Looking forward to: Most of all I'm looking forward to the final Jack and Joker episode tomorrow :') but also I'm looking forward to the livestream fanmeeting with YinWar; and I'm also really looking forward to Christmas!! And the christmas holidays! Honestly, I'm always looking forward to something :D Oh, I'm looking forward to dinner tonight bc i'm gonna eat something delicious lmao

I'm tagging: @yeonbam @kangarew-tail-7 @ellis-peace @craziestfangirl98 @gaylittlepieceofsh1t @veemark @frostyblustar , and whoever else wanna do it!! (Also of course don't do it if you don't wanna!)

[mwolf0epsilon]

Sometimes being in the SW Fandom is about diving into the annals of the internet researching the most obscure tidbit of batshit insane Canon or EU Lore imaginable to man (which is honestly my favorite thing to do because people have done some pretty insanely funny things with this universe and characters). But for the majority of the time, being in the SW Fandom is also watching people repeat a cycle of asinine arguments that make an absolute ass out of them for the worst possible reasons.

So here's a quick reminder of past arguments to be mindful of and always consider, when you see something in the tags that makes you wrinkle your nose at:

Everyone has something they like or dislike about the overall universe and story. Be it the Original Trilogy, the Prequels, the Sequels, the Animated series, the Live-Action series, EU stuff, Novels, etc. No one is above or below anyone else just because they don't love the entirety of the universe and/or the direction the current writers are taking it.

Canon can be a good baseline for your own creative purposes. You don't have to love it (because yes the whole thing can be inconsistent as hell), but don't get to a point in your fanfic/AU world-building where you vehemently deny that canon is an actual thing. This goes hand in hand with your personal depiction of characters vs someone else's depictions. Reading comprehension and the creative process depend on perspective and how you process the information you're given, so it's only normal that no two person's idea of a character is the same. But saying that your headcanons are how the characters should be written by everyone is not gonna do you any favors in the long run, because it's not up to you to decide on that. Don't forget Blorbo's actual roots and what it took to get him where you took him, but don't try to force someone else to accept the journey you orchestrated for them!

No one's OC should be put on a pedestal. It's good that people feel comfortable enough to play Barbies with each other's OCs in roleplay sessions, or even add a cameo in a fic to a character of a friend and/or artist/writer they admire from a distance. Hell, the fact many people are passionate about someone else's little fella/s is great! But the moment someone's OC becomes an object of obsession within a Fandom community, things can go a little wrong... It stops being fun to be in that kind of space that goes from welcoming OC discussions to suddenly shunning new people in favor of someone's Ultimate Blorbo who now has a Cult Following and should be written into every fanfic ever.

No one is evil for lacking knowledge or self-awareness of certain grievances that people rightfully have with the source material. The SW Fandom has always had a long-standing issue with racial stereotyping, whitewashing, cultural appropriation, sexism and many other equally serious topics that have been more eloquently explained in posts made by people much more eloquent and qualified than I am or ever will be. However, one must recognize that not everyone who joins the Fandom is immediately aware of these things. Especially the younger generations that have either not been exposed to these concepts due to one reason or another (upbringing, biased educational curriculum, etc), or because they were simply never in a position where they could delve into these topics with someone knowledgeable on them (some experiences simply aren't universal, especially if you come from a more privileged family). For the most part, SW is just a silly sci-fi universe that is nothing more than a simple means of escapism or dumb fun. Not everyone is going to study it under a microscope or go through it with a fine comb. That said, another important thing to remember is to listen to those who know their stuff and that have had personal grievances with any of the topics above. You can be excused for lack of knowledge, but you cannot be excused for purposefully ignoring the voices of those who provide you said knowledge for free if you go searching.

This is kinda returning to the second and previous topics, but I really need to put emphasis on this: If you're going to cling to certain design choices with an iron first and incorporate them into your personal ideas/headcanons, please always consider how it SOUNDS when you say characters that are written with basis on real POC people/communities are much better/superior if they have phenotypical trait expressions that are not present (or considered rare/atypical) in their real world basis. This is a CONSISTENT problem I have seen crop up specifically within the Clone Wars and Bad Batch sides of the fandom, especially when talking about Rex (who is a blond) and Clone Force 99 (who do not look like standard clones). Always remember: The problem isn't that Rex can't be naturally blond (genetics can be unpredictable and we really don't have an extensive look into the cloning process), the problem is the way some people think he'd be inferior in some way if he were a bottle blond who chose to distinguish himself (almost as if having darker skin, darker hair and darker eyes is somehow worse than having lighter skin, lighter hair or lighter eyes.. How curious isn't it?). Needless to say, I don't think I need to elaborate further on why CF99's "desirable mutations" giving them considerably lighter skin and less ethnic features, while also making their most POC presenting member look and sometimes act like a moronic brute (something which this Fandom pushes further by infantilizing him relentlessly), is a bit of a red flag...

Star Wars has always been political. It is literally in the name and in the meat of the writing. The entire thing is basically a political and social critique presented in a sci-fi/fantasy wrapper, with colorful plasma swords, cool spaceships, and kickass explosion bow on top. You cannot separate the political conversation from the universe's overall lore, and trying to do so makes you look foolish. Disney may have taken creative liberties with some of its shows, but at the end of the day they can't ever eliminate what the Original Trilogies and even the Prequels tried to tell us about. With that said, complaining about how some of the new shows are "too Woke" or PC is the equivalent of saying you read Romeo and Juliet and that the story is relationship goals. You might need to revisit the original material.

For the love of god if you don't like something, don't go after someone who does, it's not worth it. Sometimes the best thing you can do is either filter something you actively dislike/that makes you feel uncomfortable, or simply unfollow/block whoever is repeatedly bringing it onto your doorstep. And you also have no real obligation to explain your decision to block someone, especially if they hound you for questions. Rule of thumb: Don't like something? That's perfectly fine and valid. Take the steps to make yourself comfortable then, but don't go out of your way to be a royal asshole to someone else just because they themselves enjoy it. This encompasses things from anti-jedi demonization, actual ethnic cleansing in canon, siding with personifications of alt-right extremists, proshipping apologism, etc. The block button was added to this hellsite for a reason. Use it.

Sometimes you can't change someone else's opinions on a matter and that is perfectly fine. Just don't start a feud. People come and go, and their opinions vary (we're all individuals with out own perspectives and unique experiences after all), but getting up in arms every time someone either refuses to yield in a long-winded argument, or continuously tries to shove their unsolicited opinions/advice onto you, or even makes incredibly uncomfortable/forward/gross comments that they definitely shouldn't be saying to a complete stranger on the internet, is kind of pointless and will drain you of energy faster than you can say Death Star. You're not the lesser person for walking away from a lost cause. It's ultimately not your job or responsibility to fix/better someone else. Especially if they don't want to change.

[imagineitdearies]

Hey I loved loved loved your fanfiction as I’m sure everyone here did but now I, going through withdrawals I can’t find anything similar or as good as yours. So I’m curious what your favourite bg3 fanfiction are?

Hey there!! Awww, thank you ☺️ I sort of got super focused on writing PS for a while there, so I can't say I know of all The GreatsTM in this fandom. I will share what I have enjoyed/am currently reading though (almost all of it involving Astarion), but anyone else should feel free to add your favs in the comments!!

As always, please check tags and read at your own discretion!

Finished ones I've enjoyed:

Seducere by Tlon ~ Astarion/nb!Tav ~ Astarion doesn’t need a reflection to know himself – two hundred years of servitude has shown him exactly what he’s good for. Odd that his new partner seems to disagree.

Nothing is safe by foxflowering ~ Wyll/Astarion ~ "Wyll's the sort of prince-type I would have once dreamed of marrying. When I was about thirteen."

Carving through the dark by skitter ~ Astarion/f!Tav ~ Wren and Astarion descend into the Underdark in search of a new purpose, and learn a few things along the way. Namely, that healing isn't linear and sometimes love takes the long way round.

Astarion Origin Party Nonsense by starkraving ~ Astarion/Karlach; Astarion/Cazador, sort of Astarion/Wyll? ~ A collection of things that ostensibly happen in the same little mental universe. Loosely based on the events of an Origin Astarion run and the various questions it inspired. (All but one in the series is finished so I'm counting it, lol!)

All Our Missing Parts by Viraaja ~ Astarion/Halsin ~ Halsin discovers Astarion was turned before his maturity and all the sacred elven rites that come along with it. Including the sex one.

Friday Nights by SadinaSaphrite ~ Astarion/Gale ~ Professor Gale Dakarios loses his research, his magic, and his lover Mystra all at once and only has himself to blame. When he goes to drown his sorrows, he meets a pale stranger with mysteries of his own.

visions of your love by LargeOctahedron, notyournoise ~ Shadowheart/f!Tav ~ Shadowheart is tired of doubting - of feeling her heart twist whenever she looks at Tav without knowing whether they feel the same. One night, tired of sitting and hoping Tav will approach, she tries to read their mind, only to find them in a rather compromising position.

WIPs I'm following:

Palmarosa by thespectaclesofthor ~ Astarion/Raphael ~ Astarion is stuck in the darkness once more, yearning for sunlight with every fibre of his being, while bitterly reflecting on all the things that were denied to him. Raphael knows Astarion's desperate, and comes to him with not one, but two horrid contract offers that Astarion loathes and dreads in equal measure - but the prize at the end of both are too good to turn down.

To Defy the Gods by ~ Shadowheart/Tav ~ Dark Justiciar. Mother Superior. Shar's Voice Made Flesh. Her Chosen. Shadowheart had emptied her heart of falsehoods, of the illusion of life and love, and accepted the inevitability of loss. Almost.

A Dog's Retreat by ~ Halsin & Astarion, past Astarion/Cazador ~ For most, it was just the end of the Absolute. For Astarion, it was the end of two hundred years of agony. And the transition is steep and slippery. Now, all he can do is hope that there are enough pieces of him left for him to pick up and somehow put back together. Too bad hope has never been Astarion’s poison of choice.

A Warm House, A Ruddy Fire by DepravedJJJSchmidt ~ trans!Astarion/Cazador, trans!Astarion/m!Tav ~ Mr. and Mrs. Cazador Szarr have an ideal marriage. Astarion doesn't know if he will be able to survive another year of it. (And I don't know if I'll survive another chapter tbh, but like a burning building I can't look away 😬)

Alright, that's all I can think of! I'm a bit distracted all over again thanks to the original novel I'm working on now, but hopefully you find something new on this list you end up enjoying 🩵 this fandom is full of so many talented people!!

[gffa]

hi Lumi, your posting about star wars books made me want to start reading them, which ones would you recommend?

Hi! There are a lot of Star Wars books out there and there's a lot I enjoy about them! Sure, I'll give a warning that I'm picking out the best moments and a lot of the books are not always great in their entirety, especially depending on how much you want to stay 100% true to Lucas' story.

A lot is going to depend on what you're looking for--are you a prequels fan? Are you more interested in original trilogy books? Jedi-centric books? Bounty hunters or pilots instead? Etc. Generally, I assume if you're asking me, you're here for the prequels books, but I have a more generalized list of recommendations here or you can browse my novels recs tag.

But I always generally recommend starting with: - Revenge of the Sith novelization by Matthew Stover isn't a perfect book, I could nitpick some details here and there, but the heart of this book remains unchallenged as the best SW book there is, imo. It elevates the story it's adapting (already a high bar for me, I love ROTS), Stover knows how to turn a phrase to dig deep into a character's motivations, and there's a reason why we're all constantly quoting that book. It adds so much to the story and it's a compelling tale on its own, it makes me love the characters and hurt for them all over again, and there's approximately a thousand lines in this story that you could write an entire essay on.

- Padawan by Kiersten White cannot dethrone the ROTS novelization, but I would say that I think it wound up being my favorite of the Disney era books, because it's such a straight shot to my id. It's definitely on the lighter side, it's a happier look at Obi-Wan's childhood (which I think fits his character better), he struggles and has a lot going on, but overall he's pretty well-adjusted and happy, plus there is an absolute ABUNDANCE OF CUTENESS in this book, it was so delightful and whimsical and adorable, it just made me happy.

- Light of the Jedi by Charles Soule if you're at all interested in The High Republic. This is still my favorite book of the entire series, I think it set the stage incredibly well, it had some absolutely banger lines for someone with prequels brainrot like me, and genuinely made me excited for the entire line-up.

- Dooku: Jedi Lost by Cavan Scott, which is an audiodrama but has a script version available if you're hoh or just don't like them. It's a solid look at Dooku's time as a youngling and why he left the Jedi Order and backstory with Sifo-Dyas that'll break your heart. I prefer the audio version here because the Asajj framing works so much better with the actress' voicework, it really digs into her feelings about all of this as well, making it a nice gut-punch of a story.

And now I would add Padawan's Pride by Brian Q. Miller (audiobook only, unfortunately) because it's a lovely, charming look at Anakin's time as an apprentice. It's very deliberately written as a lead-in to the Obi-Wan & Anakin comic (which I think you're supposed to be keeping in mind as you read, so I'd suggest reading in release order rather than chronological order), showing the conflict between Obi-Wan and Anakin, between Anakin the Jedi way of life, yet all the love that's growing there and the hope that they weren't wrong to hold onto. Just the right amount of crunch and sweet.

I recently read The Living Force by John Jackson Miller and, while I have a couple of issues with it (it was less spiritual than I'd like, some clunky "attachment" discourse moments that clash against Lucas' definitions, etc.), overall it was a book I loved. It was laugh out loud funny at several moments, it showed the Jedi as deeply caring, it gave time and page space to Jedi who don't usually get much focus, it had some knockout administrative worldbuilding details, and a genuinely fun experience of a story.

There are more that I personally loved (Force Collector was really good for me but not an easy one to recommend, The Legends of Luke Skywalker was very dear to me for being so in love with the galaxy far, far away, Obi-Wan & Anakin: Choose Your Destiny is a Choose Your Adventure style book that's not going to be for everyone but I adored and got so much out of, that's where Theater Nerd Mace Windu came from, the first and third From a Certain Point of View anthologies had 3-4 incredible stories in them each, the ESB one didn't impress me, etc.) and a lot of comics that I think are just as good to read if you haven't started on those, but I think this is a good starting place for prequels nerds.

(I stuck mostly to Disney continuity, it's what I'm more familiar with, and the only Legends books I fully recommend are Revenge of the Sith novelization and Dark Rendezvous, not even my beloved Wild Space comes without a bunch of caveats, but if you're interested in Legends, let me know!)

[olderthannetfic]

Do you have any idea why authors of multichaptered works INSIST on putting things like "Good news! We're about X of the way to the end folks" and "Sorry folks! I keep thinking it's almost done but then a new chapter happened and it's not going to be done as soon as I thought"? Like, are they fishing for compliments? Like, the fic is getting read. It has subscribers. Ppl are leaving comments. Do they think ppl WANT it to be over? I mean, these are writers we're talking about. So they were naturally readers first and presumably still are. So the concept of fellow readers not wanting what they enjoy to end shouldn't be such a novel concept to them! So why remind us and remind us and remind us that we're closer to the end? If the chapters are already numbered, we can see it thanks! We don't need a reminder! And if the chapters are written like "5/?" we don't WANT to know when the story is going to end! And the apologizing because there's more story? It's so unbelievably infuriating I have often just closed the tab because I was so mad I didn't want to read anything by someone so moronic (or fake-modest or fishing for compliments) anymore. So many writers seem to absolutely have no awareness or understanding or respect for the concept of a reader being immersed in a story. In published multichaptered books, you don't find little author's notes full of unfunny self-deprecating jokes and anecdotes and life updates at the start AND end of every chapter. You're immersed in the story and eagerly going from chapter to chapter. But sure, chat about anything and everything under the sun and completely break the hold your storytelling had on me! Author's notes are not a chat room. It's for stuff that affects the story or a heads up about a tag that hadn't been in the tags until that specific chapter but warrants a warning. Ugh to be honest lately I've completely stopped reading author's notes. From weird "haha see what I did there" after the most achingly written pining and temporary heartbreak scene, to smug and inane and ridiculous declarations of "X and Y switch because I believe in equality" as if it's a moral issue instead of a very real life preference for many men who sleep with men, author's notes are just idiotic most of the time. I will only read them by authors I trust, who will add a quiet few lines about the translation of a Latin phrase, or a link to pictures of a real-life place they featured in a poignant scene. Otherwise they just make me wring out my hair and who needs that. And for the crowd that LOVES to get offended: No I don't mean this is gospel. I mean this is MY experience. And since I'm clearly not one of a kind because no one is, there's bound to be others like me. So authors who WANT to keep ruining the mood they managed to craft can keep doing it -- most of their readers probably don't mind! The authors I trust though (the ones whose notes I will read, and whose notes have never ruined the mood for me) never do that anyway. But this is a heads up to those who are interested in finding out what makes SOME readers tick, because there's a first time learning about something for everyone. Thanks for letting me vent!

--

[cielie-voss]

Hey there!

Stumbled across your blog and fell in love with your Eddie Fics! 😍

If you're still taking request, I'd like to request something Rockstar!Eddie x Reader, where Reader works at a bar or cafe and Eddie is on tour with Corroded coffin and meets her at work. She doesn't believe that he's a rockstar and thinks he just wants to impress her until one day, she accepts his silly pickup lines and goes on a date with him.

If you don't like this, it's totally fine. Hope you have some peaceful holidays (and a very unmerry Christmas, absolutely loved this!)

Rockstar!Eddie x fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I hope you like it! I just wanted to write something short and simple (ha, jokes on me, short and simple seems to be something not possible for me). I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: Rockstar AU, Fluff, bad pickup lines, idiots in love, mutual pining, Reader is a writer, some petnames, takes place in the 90's. Wordcount: ~8k ("something short and simple") Summary: After some crazy years of university stress, heartbreaks, family problems and the wrong kind of friends, Y/N decided to take a year to discover herself, figure out her dreams and wishes. With her newfound freedom she just wanted to do some Minijobs and travel the world. No university stressing her with exams, no annoying family who's trying to tell her what to do, no backstabbing friends, and most importantly: no dating and no more heartaches. But boy oh boy, she could've never been more wrong. Taglist: @violetmiroh If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗 Masterlist

Finally. 

After years of stress and torture you finally found some freedom. You successfully graduated college with your major in literature, ready to enter the real world. And that’s not the only thing you had to master throughout the past years.

“Why don’t you study something useful? Maybe business administration? Or marketing?” Your parents had perfected the game of making your life a living hell. Literature was something useless for them. Something where you would never get a real job. But you wanted nothing less than to write. Write about everything. Poems. Dramas. Novels. You wanted to tell the world about the little stories in your mind. But writing wasn’t a job. At least in your parents opinion.

“Did you meet a nice guy? At least some guy that likes girls who can’t get their noses out of these damn books? Any friends other than Tolkien or Poe?” God, these people are so ignorant. Everytime you visited your family or called them, your mother had another blind date arranged for you.

“You remember Daron? Yeah, the Daron you went to elementary school with. His fiancée cheated on him, you know? He’s such a nice and handsome guy. Why don’t you call him? Wouldn’t it be sweet if you guys meet again after years?” No, mom, that wouldn’t be sweet. 

“Oh, honey! I’m so sorry. I totally forgot I asked Fred and his mother to come over for lunch. You remember Fred, right? He used to tease you back in middle school. You know what they say: lovers like to tease each other!” You were glad your mother turned away from you as you were rolling your eyes dramatically. Laughing at her own ridiculous joke, she turned to Fred and his mother. 

To be honest, your dating life was just as miserable as it could be. Even without your mothers help. And not because of what you were studying or your interests, like your mother said. Or because of your casual and comfy style or mostly reserved and introverted personality. Your heartaches and frustration with the male gender was mostly due to their immature behavior. 

Over the years you experienced nearly all sorts of failed romances. Caught them cheating, being ghosted, unknowingly ended up as a one night stand, being the affair, constant fighting, being rejected and creepy mothers who tried to arrange a wedding after two weeks of going out or guys with a special relationship to their mothers. Some weird Norman Bates kind of relationship. There was even one guy, whom you really liked, that sadly turned out to be gay.

“Why did you have to move so far away?” Well, this one is self-explanatory. 

“At least you could call us every second day.” Thanks, but no thank you. You didn’t want to give them another way of terrorizing you with their unrealistic ideas and expectations.

All you wanted was to live your life the way you wanted to, and not how they wanted your life to be. No parents, no stress, and most important: no dating. Just you.

So after you graduated and broke up with the seemingly most perfect guy, who turned out to be a rotten liar and the most unfaithful piece of shit, who didn’t just cheated on you multiple times, but also stole your hard earned money, you decided to take a year off to travel around the world, to find yourself. You sold your car and the stuff you wouldn’t need anymore and with that money, you started your journey. 

On your trip you’ve seen the probably most beautiful cities and met even more wonderful people. To afford your stay you worked from time to time in little cafés and lovely bars. In exchange for room and board you worked as a temporary worker on farms. In your free time you sat down and wrote. The people and landscapes were so inspiring, you filled one notebook after another with short stories, poems and even started to work on something that might be your first novel. Every now and then you sent your works to different agencies and participated in writing competitions, improved your writing and earned some reputation for your works. 

London was the city you stayed the longest. You stayed with a lovely family, the Bakers, who owned a little pub in the outskirts of London. They treated you like family, like a family you never had but always wished for. You helped them with their household, tutored the kids after school and worked downstairs at the pub in the evening. 

When you had a day off, you’d usually sit down at the bar, a pint of ale in front of you, pen in hand. The words seemed to flow right out of your pen, as natural as breathing. 

You could’ve never wished for a better time. The Bakers treated you like a daughter they never had, and even the regulars at the pub treated you like one of the Bakers. Between lovely drunken blue-collar workers, who loved to tell their stories and sing their work songs, you felt somehow at home, you felt safe and came out of your shell. With each day you became more extroverted, literally flourishing and bristling with self-confidence. 

And it was in that pub where you met the guy in Jean's vest who stood out like a sore thumb in this scenery. From behind the bar you couldn't help but notice how his leg bounced up and down like a nervous child. After some minutes you decided to help him calm down a bit.

“Are you waiting for your date?” With a warm smile you looked down on him.

“Huh?” As if you pulled him out of a trance, he winced and looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. You huffed at his reaction and sat down the pint in front of him.

“I asked, if you’re waiting for your date to show up.” The smile remained on your lips as you looked into his big brown puppy eyes. His eyes darted to the pint you just gently shoved towards him.

“Don’t worry, that’s on the house.” You assured him.

“Thanks, uh … “ Again, like he was in a trance-like state, he shakes his head and looks back at you. “My name’s Eddie.” He reached his hand out to you and you shook it. You noticed the unusual rings that adorned his fingers and the little bats that were tattooed on his forearm. He obviously didn’t belong here. 

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m Y/N.” 

There was something in the way he looked at you that you couldn't identify. So after a short moment of awkward silence you took a sharp breath in, pulled your lips into a thin smile and said “Anyway, let me know if I could do anything for you. And good luck with that date.” You gave him a wink and turned back to your bar to serve the regulars who are now, bit by bit, rolling along.

As the hours ticked by and the bar settled into its usual hustle and bustle, you found yourself repeatedly returning your gaze to Eddie. Something about his appearance had a mesmerizing effect on you. And there was no way you could say what it was that captivated you. 

Slowly he began to warm up a bit, engaged in conversations with some other guests, but without further notice, he also caught himself repeatedly trying to catch a glimpse of you. 

“Make sure he gets home safe!”, you called out to the cabbie, a lovely man named Barnaby, after you accompanied a slightly drunk Tommy outside to the cab.

“Y/N, my dearest!” Tommy slurred after you handed him over into Barnaby’s hands. “One day, I promise, I will introduce you to my son! I’ll gladly take you as my daughter-in-law!” 

“Go home and sober up, then we’ll see!”, you laughed and waved the drunk redhead, with a face glowing as red as his hair, goodbye.

“Isn’t she just the most loveliest person on earth?” Tommy asked, now turned to Barnaby, who was just smiling and nodding in approval.

Quietly grinning to yourself you closed the door and headed back to the bar. It was already past midnight, the pub slowly became quieter until Eddie was the only one sitting there, his ringed fingers wrapped around his emptied glass. 

“I guess it’s time to kindly tell me to fuck off, isn’t it?” You had to admit that Eddie’s puppy eyes made you soft.

You cocked your head and with an apologetical expression you nodded. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie just shrugged, a sheepish smile playing around his lips as he carefully slid the glass towards you. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad I had the chance to be stood up and get you as my substitute-date.” He got up from the old, shrieking bench, winked at you and left the bar.

“Keep the change, Y/N my dearest!”, he chanted. 

Only now did you look down at the glass and saw the bills peeking out from underneath. You wanted to shout out to him “Eddie, I think you made a mistake!”, but he was gone and left you with this lavish tip. 

For a moment you stood there, stunned by this man, before Mr. Baker could pull you back to reality. “C’mon Y/N, it’s late, go to bed and get some sleep.” You turned around to face him, the human version of a teddybear, looking down at you with a knowing smile. You quickly took care of closing out the register before stuffing Eddie's tip into the big tip jar.

“No, no, no. You keep that.” Mr. Baker pulled out the bills and handed them over to you. “It’s yours.” And before you had the chance to protest, he patted your shoulder and gently pushed you towards the door that leads to the family’s private apartment.

You tried to find some sleep, but everytime you closed your eyes, you saw this lovely smile and these big round puppy eyes. God damnit! Why did he have to be so cute?

The next morning you pulled out your notebook, after multiple failed attempts to fall back asleep again. Maybe some writing would banish this handsome face out of your mind that kept you awake. But jokes on you! 

Your mind always wandered back to this guy, his messy hair, the sloppy smile, the tattoos on his arm, his big, brown eyes … It was enough to drive you up the wall. So instead of accidentally turning the love interest in your little fantasy romance into a copy of Eddie, you put down your writing stuff, took a deep breath and left your room.

When you entered the small kitchen, Penelope Baker, who everyone called Poppy, already waited for you with a knowing smirk dancing around her thin lips.

“Good morning, lovely.”, she chirped, her words underlined with a cheeky undertone that made you stop mid motion. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion and cocked your head before you let yourself down on your chair.

“Good morning.”, you answered with a skeptical frown.

“Coffee?” As if nothing had happened, Poppy offered you the coffee pot. With a nod you cued her to pour the steaming hot liquid in your cup. You thanked her and wrapped your hands around the cup to warm yourself a bit. The smell of this freshly grounded coffee filled your nose and was already enough to wake up your still sleepy mind.

Just as you thought Poppys previous smirk was just another one of her quirky habits and meant nothing, her voice turned into that typical ‘I’m your mother and know exactly what’s going on’-tone as she said “So Theodore told me about that guy last night.”

For a split second you froze, then let out a sighed “Oh my god.” 

“What? Teddy said he seemed to like you. Oh lord, isn’t that adorable? A young, handsome, mysterious guy showing up, unexpectedly sweeping this young lady off her feet.” In a dramatic motion she clutched her hands to her chest and jumped out of her chair.

“Oh, young love! I would give anything to feel like this again in my old days.” As if she was dancing with the ghost of a long lost lover, she seemingly floated through the small kitchen.

With a frustrated sigh you buried your face in your hands. Your grumbled “Oh my god” was more embarrassed this time.

“But you do know I’m right here, my love?”, Theodore coaxed, as he leaned back in his chair and watched his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Tz, I’m not talking about you, Teddy.”, she waved him off.

Sensing the upcoming argument, even if it’s not meant seriously, you grabbed your cup of coffee and sneaked out of the kitchen. “Okay. I guess that’s my cue to leave you two alone.”

The rest of the day you spent with Nathan and Ethan, helping them with their homework. You haven’t met a lot of twins in your life so far, but you never met twins that were so different from each other than Nathan and Ethan, which made tutoring them a real challenge. But sitting between these bickering boys was still a better alternative than being ribbed about Eddie by Teddy and Poppy.

Since it was your day off and you couldn’t focus on your writing upstairs in your little room, you went down into the pub earlier than usual. Your hopes were high that the hustle and bustle around you would distract your mind a bit so you could focus on your writing. 

The first few sentences had a hard time coming out. But after you got back into your flow the words came out on their own. That was until you noticed a brown haired figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye. 

“Aw, did you miss me?”, you leered and leaned back to face Eddie with a smug grin. “Or do you wanna give your date a second chance?”

“Well, actually,” Eddie declared, nonchalantly dropping into the seat opposite you, “I was just trying to get away from some of these pushy fangirls, you know?”

As if he was discussing the weather, he leaned back, fingers tapping a casual rhythm on the table. “Yeah, sure. Clingy fans,” you joked, closing your notebook and using the pen as a bookmark.

“Listen, being a rockstar isn’t easy when you’re smoking hot like me,” he explained, a self-assured chuckle escaping him as he tilted his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor.

You disappeared behind the bar and met a very amused looking Mister Baker.

With furrowed brows, you leaned to your side in an attempt to peer through one of the beautiful stained glass windows. Eddie followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a puzzled expression after trying in vain to discern what had caught your attention.

"What?" he inquired, reverting to the shy and nervous behavior from yesterday.

You couldn't contain the giggles bubbling out of your chest as you leaned back and faced Eddie again. "Nothing. I was just trying to get a glimpse of all those fangirls you escaped from."

"Oh, great, you're making fun of me," Eddie stated, rolling his eyes.

"C'mon, Eddie. You're trying to convince me you're a rockstar." You waited for a response, anticipating another remark about his alleged status as a musician, but were met with a sulky Eddie instead.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Mister Rockstar," you apologized playfully. "How about a drink? My treat."

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered in an exaggerated pouty manner.

 “Don’t you dare say a single word!”, you hissed to the man and to emphasize your statement, you raised a warning finger. Still grinning, he playfully raised his hand, mimicking the action of locking up his lips with an imaginary key.

You poured beer into two pints and placed one of them in front of Eddie.

“Cheers.” With your glass raised for a toast, you added “Let’s start over again. Hi, I’m Y/N.”

His eyes darted between you and his beer until he eventually gave in. “Hi Y/N, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.” As you clinked glasses you locked eyes, which unexpectedly sparked something inside of you. Something you couldn’t quite explain, but it felt unexpectedly good. 

For the rest of the evening, your intention to continue with your manuscript was completely forgotten and replaced by the desire to talk to Eddie for hours. He asked about your notebook and after you told him that you were about to write a novel, you found yourself in a lively conversation about your favorite authors with him. 

You talked about Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, George Orwell, Virginia Woolf for hours without noticing how late it was getting. There was this spark between you and him that ignited a fire within your soul, a fire that became bigger and bigger the more you talked about your interests. And when you spoke, his eyes were literally glued to your lips. You’ve never felt more comfortable in your life than in this exact moment, talking to a stranger about your biggest passion and your dreams to publish your first fantasy novel. 

A few more beers followed, Teddy even brought you some snacks. Then Eddie told you about the DnD campaigns he planned and plotted years ago with his friends, his love for Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit and assured you that he’ll be the first one to buy your book. When you told him, you never had the chance to play DnD, because you never really had that kind of friends, something flashed in his eyes.

“You never played DnD?" Eddie's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as if your statement had personally offended his very existence. "Oh, what a shame! Okay, you know what?” His elbows crashed onto the table, and he leaned in so close that you could practically feel the intensity of his gaze. His soft eyes locked onto yours, filled with determination. “I, Eddie Munson, promise you, Y/N Y/L/N, that I’ll introduce you to the world of DnD one day.” With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, he dramatically raised his pinkie for a solemn pinkie promise, an act you sealed with your own pinkie.

“Alright, deal.”, you whispered, absolutely mesmerized by the guy you just met yesterday.

“Deal.” He repeated solemnly.

“Okay, you lovebirds.” Mister Baker's voice interrupted your promise, pulling your attention back to reality. The pub around you was empty and the chairs were already put back on the tables. “I’m really sorry, but my wife will kill me if I don’t close the pub soon.”

With your face blushing with shame you quickly leaned back into your seat and looked away. How embarrassing that must have been to watch. Like you were teenagers again.

Eddie cleared his throat and took a look at the clock. “Oh, shit, yeah. I should go now, my friends are surely wondering where I am. Goodnight, Y/N.” He paused for a moment to look at you one last time before he left the pub in a hurry.

The looks both Mr Baker and Mrs Baker gave you were unequivocally. But in your opinion, they were reading something into your casual conversation with Eddie. Something you didn’t seem to perceive. 

The next few days, Eddie found himself inexplicably pulled to that charming little pub, his heart fluttering with excitement every time he spotted your Y/H/C hair behind the bar through the stained glass windows. Without fail, he made his way there each evening, armed with a new and absurd excuse. Sneaking up behind you, he would unleash the most cringe-worthy pickup lines, each one more outrageous than the last. You'd heard your fair share of cheesy pickup lines over the years, but none had ever elicited the same blend of blushes and giggles that Eddie's managed to. It was as if you both had regressed to the age of twelve, sharing a playful banter that was both bad and yet undeniably funny.

As you brought his first pint of beer for the evening, you found him crouched forward in his seat, his face twisted in an exaggerated expression of pain. Concern etched on your face, and with furrowed brows you asked, “Everything's okay, Eddie?” To which he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I just scraped my knee falling for you." This unexpectedly caught you off guard, and despite your efforts to suppress them, snickers escaped you, filling the air with shared laughter.

Another very stressful evening, when you passed him with a full tray of empty glasses, he said “Hey, Y/N, you dropped something!” 

“Huh?” You promptly came to standstill, the glasses clinking at the abrupt stop, and tried to figure out what you had dropped. But after you couldn’t find a damn thing and slowly became somewhat desperate, you noticed Eddie's lopsided smile. He seemed to be biting back his laughter as he quipped, “My jaw”, and brought that lovely smile of yours back to your lips with this poor attempt at flirting with you.

One evening, you were seated at the bar, leisurely sipping your coke, when Eddie stealthily approached from behind. Gently placing his hands around your waist, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You know, with all these secret rendezvous with you, I feel like I’m a spy or something. Hidden identities, clandestine meetings, just you and me, and no one knows about this, far away from the public.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and retorted, "Oh, please. You're not James Bond, Eddie."

He chuckled, "I may not be James Bond, but I am a famed rockstar by night.” To make sure no one heard him, he looked left and right, then turned back to you. “Shh, it's a secret!", he whispered and winked at you.

After releasing you, his warm hands leaving a lingering sensation, you sighed and turned your barstool to face him. For a fleeting moment, your gaze flickered to his slightly parted lips, now curled into a smug grin. Looking back into his eyes, you cocked your head and, absolutely unimpressed, countered, "Yeah. Nice try, buddy. You're not fooling anyone with that."

By now, your jokes about him allegedly being a rockstar didn’t seem bother him anymore. No. Instead he chimed in on your jokes, complained about clingy fangirls, unreliable sound engineers, the bad food during their tour. And you laughed at his jokes, thinking he was trying to impress you.

You could’ve sworn he must have heard your heart beating heavily in your chest when, with his hand resting on the counter behind you for support, Eddie leaned forward, nearly brushing your cheek. Just inches away from your face, the sensation of his breath on your skin caused a shudder to run through your body. If you would have tried to stand up, you suspected your legs would give way, as your body inexplicably turned to jelly in the mere proximity of him.

Eddie flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying, can you? But it seems like it doesn’t necessarily need a secret agent or rockstar to sweep you off your feet, right?" His coarse voice, barely above a whisper, was vibrating in his chest. Chuckling, he leaned back, feigning nonchalance, though a subtle twinkle in his eye hinted at the amusement behind his teasing attempt. As his face, and lips, were outside the danger zone, you noticed that you were straining holding your breath for what felt like an eternity. 

“How was your date?” Poppy asked teasingly as you came upstairs one evening. Eddie brought you his copy of The Hobbit and some flowers he picked from some front yard that reminded him of you. The pub was very crowded that evening, so you two decided to just chill in the backyard, counting stars and eating the cookies he brought.

“That was not a date.”, you declared and rolled your eyes.

“Oh. Of course. No date. I understand. Like the other not-a-dates you two had the last couple nights, right?” Poppy winked at you knowingly. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, so you turned away and took care of the dirty dishes.

One day Eddie came to the pub earlier than usual. The pub wasn’t even open yet. Shaking from the nervousness that filled his body, he paced up and down the sidewalk in front of the pub. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was all nervous and excited like this. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind, as he waited for you to come down after he rang the doorbell.

“Okay Eddie. Breath in-” He took a deep breath in, “- breath out.” His breath was shaking. And since his attempt at calming himself down didn’t quite have the effect he wished for, he took a long drag from his cigarette, inhaling the smoke that had at least a little soothing effect on his nerves.

“Eddie?” The sudden sound of your voice made him jump, causing you to smile. You stuck your head out of a window and looked down on him.

“Hey, Y/N!”, he greeted you. All of a sudden the words he already laid out in his head vanished into thin air. 

“I … Y/N would you … I mean …” Eddie closed his eyes, took another deep breath and gathered his courage. “Would you like to go out with me? Tonight?” With furrowed brows he looked up to you. His heart nearly jumped out his chest as the words left his lips.

“You mean like a date?” The smile on your face grew wider than ever before. “A rockstar is asking someone like me out for a date? Is this some cinderella kind of story?” Your nervous laughter made him hold his breath, expectantly waiting for your final answer. His body tensed up as you finally nodded, accepting his invitation.

“Sure. When and where?”

He smiled from ear to ear as he told you the time and place. 

“Alright. See you tonight!” You waved him goodbye and disappeared back into your room.

“Yeah, see you tonight.”, he whispered dreamy with his eyes fixed on your window for a little longer before he turned around and went back to his friends.

“So how’s the no-date-policy going?” Teddy leaned against your doorframe as you turned around, grinning like a highschooler that’s been asked out to prom.

“Oh shut up.”, you laughed in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks. 

“Hey! Poppy! Guess who has a date tonight!”, Teddy’s voice echoed through the apartment. His words had only just left his lips when Poppy was already standing in your room, seemingly faster than light and with a grin that almost looked scary.

“He asked you out?” But before you could answer, she grabbed you by your hands, pulled you into a tight embrace and swirled you around. “I never thought I could be any prouder as a mother than this.”

“Poppy, she’s not -” Teddy tried to intervene to remind her that you were not their actual daughter. But Poppy, filled with pride, interrupted him.

“Oh shut up, Teddy.”

Still giggling she released you to look you up and down. You were still in your baggy shorts and a faded shirt, that once used to be a blue and violet tie dye. The longer she looked at you, the more you got anxious. 

“So … “ she started after a moment. “And what are you going to wear?”

“What?” Her question caught you off guard. You were still busy to not freak out with joy.

“What are you going to wear tonight? Sure you can’t go on a date looking like this, sweetie.” Well, she was pretty damn right with that. In your mind you went through your little options. Because you were often switching between hostels and other places to stay the night, you chose not to carry that much clothing around with you. So most of your outfits consist of simple shirts, most of them already pretty baggy and faded, and some simple jeans. Nothing that you could wear on a date to make a good impression. Well, you honestly didn’t intend to go on dates anyway.

“Oh my god.”, now you have started to freak out. “What the hell am I going to wear?!” With furrowed brows and slightly panicking you looked at Poppy.

“Don’t worry, darling. I got you.” She gently squeezed your hand, then left your room, skipping like an excited child. 

“I guess I should leave you two girls alone.”, Teddy whispered to you, somehow happy to leave this intimate mother-daughter moment.

As long as Poppy combed through her wardrobe, you faced the mirror, trying to tame your hair to look nice and girly and not like a crazy witch. Just as you were trying to braid your hair, Poppy came back with a pile of clothes. This might be a more complicated and complex quest than you thought. 

You tried on outfit after outfit. Dresses. Skirts with lovely ruffle blouses. Your favorite so far was a dark brown culottes with a fluffy beige blouse. That was until Poppy pulled out a dress, short puffed sleeves, flowy skirt and a lovely floral pattern. You instantly put it on. The fabric was soft and light, the layered dip hem skirt flowed down from your waist like a waterfall of flowers. You never were a fan of these oldschool puffed sleeves, but you had to admit, that these were pretty flattering. Around your waist, the fabric was a bit ruffled up and tightened in your back like a corset. And the neckline was low-cut, but not too revealing.

As you eyed your reflection, admiring how the dress accentuates your favorite features and yet managed to conceal your insecurities, Poppy carefully completed the dress with a cute little necklace. 

“You look absolutely stunning!” She stood right behind you with her hands on your shoulders and examined your reflection too, looking like the proud and loving mother you never had. 

“Thanks Poppy.” was all you managed to get out at the moment. You never considered yourself good looking, not even close. Instead you always tried to hide your body and your low self esteem. But your new found family taught you in so many different ways how beautiful and stunning you actually were, on the inside as well as on the outside.

It felt like an eternity until it became evening and your long-awaited date with Eddie came closer. Watching the clock hands seemingly move in slow motion, your impatience grew with every second to infinity. Poppy helped you to braid your hair and embellished your french braids with colorful flowers from their balcony. 

Every fiber of your body was tense and it was a miracle you managed to walk to your destination. Nervously fidgeting with your ring, you found the place Eddie told you. But to your surprise, it wasn’t a restaurant or bar. It was a nightclub. Every time the door opened, rock music blared outside, then fell silent again when the door closed. 

Did he mess up the address? Or did you mess up? Anxious, you verified the address of this place over and over again, finding no mistake, until the ticket taker spoke to you, thinking you were the next in line. “What’s your name?”

Pulled out of your thoughts you looked at him. “What?”

“What is your name, so I can let you in.”, he repeated.

“Oh, Y/N Y/L/N, but I think I got the wrong address, sorry.”

Just as you were about to leave, embarrassed and downhearted, he opened the door for you and the music carried you inside.

As you hesitantly entered the club you simultaneously entered a whole different galaxy. The heavy guitar sounds and fast drums adapted to the fast and nervous beating of your heart. With a loud thud the door slammed shut behind you. 

People mostly dressed in black leather jackets or jeans vests covered in patches, pins and studs ushered you further into the club. You let yourself get carried by the wave of metalheads, standing out like a sore thumb with your cute little dress and the flowers in your hair. The masses around you came to a stop and you found yourself in front of a big stage that was covered in red light, a flag hanging on the wall behind the setup that announced a band named ‘Corroded Coffin’. 

Squinting your eyes, you tried to find the guy with the wild, brown hair, but to your disappointment you couldn’t find him. After some minutes of desperately searching for that lovely smile, the few lights that tried in vain to lighten up the whole place dimmed and everything fell silent for a moment before some slow and hauntingly beautiful guitar riffs filled the air. Your eyes needed some time to adapt to the darkness around you. The crowd started to cheer frenziedly, jumping up and down uncontrollably as the heavy beats of a drum joined the guitar. Caged in that impetuous jostling, you had to stand on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the now partially lit up stage.

And when you caught sight of that wild, dark brown mane, you froze for a second, eyes wide open in shock. “No fucking way”, you mouthed in disbelieve.

The world around you seemed to fall into slow motion as the realization hit you hard. That guy in front of you, believe it or not, was Eddie. Eddie Munson, the guy you randomly met at a pub and made fun of because he claimed to be a rockstar. He was shredding his guitar like a maniac, a burst of energy radiating from him. And just as the crowd was about to freak out with excitement, he grabbed the microphone and, with a contagious enthusiasm, hollered to the crowd, "Alright, folks! Let's make some noise that'll shake these walls! We're here for a hell of a good time, so buckle up and get ready for a wild ride!" The crowd erupted into even louder cheers as the concert kicked off with a surge of electrifying energy. 

His eyes were scanning the crowd, desperately looking for your unmistakingly beautiful face. Fortunately his eyes found you, his look a mix of triumph and satisfaction. A silent declaration that spoke volumes, as if to say ‘See, I wasn’t pulling your leg.’ Still in disbelief, you shook your head as you watched him perform with his band.

“In the shadows of the night, where the demons come alive,

Echoes of thunder, a twisted ride, where the fearless dare to strive.

As the spirits intertwine, prancing to a symphony of the dark,

In the heart of rebellion, we leave our lasting mark.” 

Even though this wasn't your type of music, the sight of your type of guy performing like he's possessed by the devil himself made the whole show surprisingly enjoyable.

“Rising from the ashes, we're forged in the fire,

restless souls and a rebel's desire,

Riding the storm, breaking the chains.

Legends are born in the heat of the fight,

In the roar of the crowd, where freedom reigns.”

For the rest of the concert, Eddie couldn't take his eyes off you. The sea of ​​leather and denim jeans around you blurred into a viscous, gray mass, completely insignificant to him. All that mattered to him at that moment was you – your smile, outshining any star in the night sky, and your eyes, radiating a warmth that could envelop him even in the darkest of clouds overshadowing his mind.

The thundering beat of your heart, on the verge of explosion with excitement, merged seamlessly with the unexpectedly peppy song. At first, it was just the drums, synced with the slow strumming of the bass, gradually increasing its pace until it abruptly fell silent, giving way to Eddie's voice as he chimed in.

You couldn't have possibly missed the smug grin on Eddie's face, the grin you began to love throughout the past days, as he let his piercing guitar riffs slice through the dense air. The drums and bass seamlessly joined in, weaving together to unveil Eddie's latest song, evidently penned about a certain girl he had met just days ago.

“In a haze of neon lights, the city's heartbeat loud,

A crowded room, lost faces in the crowd.

Then there she stood, a vision rare,

Sweet innocence like the flowers in her hair.”

After they played their last song and the stage was once again covered in darkness, the masses around you, still hyped, rushed outside. Countless thoughts mixed with a wave of overwhelming emotions washed over you, leaving you riveted to the spot, unable to move. But as soon as you caught a glimpse of Eddie's wild mane while he climbed down from the stage, there was nothing that could’ve held you back. With a flock of muttered and incomprehensible excuses gushing out of your mouth, you pushed yourself through the remaining crowd towards Eddie. 

“Her laughter echoes, a sweet serenade.

Lost in the moment, nothing else compares.

Her eyes sparkle like stars in the night,

A sweet surrender, everything felt right.

Her words like poetry, a gentle breeze,

In the storm of life, she puts my mind at ease.

In the chaos of life, she's my symphony.”

“Eddie!” A security guard blocked your path, but you exerted all your strength to reach Eddie. “Please, let me through. I know Eddie; we’re friends. Please,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes and waving desperately for Eddie to notice you.

“Okay, you lovebirds. Don’t you think we should go somewhere more … quieter? At least with less prying spectators.”, the bassist, a tall guy with a smile sweet as honey which he desperately tried to hide, suggested.

“Nice try. I can’t let you through; the backstage area is just for the band.” The guard attempted to shoo you away, gently restraining you.

“No, you don’t understand. I…” Eddie, prompted by his drummer who pointed at you and the guard, rushed towards you, wearing the broadest smile on his lips.

“Y/N!” The sound of your name startled the guard, who turned his head, sensing trouble he needed to address. Taking advantage of the distraction, without a second thought, you leaped over the barrier.

There was no way anyone could have held you back at that moment.

Everything unfolded rapidly, yet it felt like slow motion as you enveloped him in your arms. His warm hands cupped your face, fingers entangled in your hair. His lips met yours, moving in sync to a silent rhythm set by your connected heartbeats.

“Okay, nothing to see here, guys!” His bandmates pivoted to shield the curious looks of the crowd, slightly bewildered by the unexpected sight of their lead singer's romantic interlude.

“I never thought you would actually come,” he whispered against your lips, breaking the kiss but still cradling your face with his calloused hands. His voice trembled, and you could feel his heart pounding violently against your chest.

“And I never thought you were telling the truth, but here we are,” you retorted, still breathless, earning a laugh from him—a laughter you never wanted to miss in your life again.

“Is this Eddie’s secret girlfriend?” someone screamed excitedly, pointing at you and Eddie.

“Well, does this look like a secret to you?” the drummer huffed, attempting to disperse the onlookers.

With the help of the security, his bandmates managed to give you and Eddie some private space, away from their curious fans. They already suspected something was going on since they couldn’t figure out the reason behind his late night trips or the silly smiles dancing around his lips when he returned to their tour bus. He seemed to be a completely different person after he went out one night after a little argument with their manager. And now they finally had an answer, the answer was right in front of them. 

“Yeah, I think Jeff is right,” the drummer agreed. “And don’t you think you should introduce your secret girlfriend to us?” He playfully mimicked quotation marks with his fingers, emphasizing the words with a teasing tone, the rest of the band loudly agreeing. With his arms crossed above his chest and a raised eyebrow, the curly haired drummer, who was wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt underneath a red plaid flannel, nearly squeezed himself between you and Eddie. 

Eddie took a deep breath and let go of you, silently cursing his nosy friends for interrupting this intimate moment with you. He grabbed you by your hand, squeezing it gently to, on one hand, assure you that everything is okay since he sensed your unease, but on the other hand to make sure you wouldn’t leave his side. 

“Okay, okay.” He rolled his eyes in a playful manner and added "When you finally stop pestering me" like an annoyed parent would to silence their nosy child. 

"Okay, let’s go, move, move!" the bassist, Jeff, demanded excitedly, ushering them into the backstage area with animated enthusiasm. You clung onto Eddie as the rest of the band, with combined forces, led you two further into the backstage area. 

You spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and his Band, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, you snuggled against his chest. His friends welcomed you with open arms and treated you as one of them, as if you knew each other for years. 

As they settled in, the atmosphere turned light-hearted, and this group of grown up adults, famous rockstars, who had momentarily reverted to their teenage selves, cracked one bad joke after another. Eddie's friends wasted no time in sharing embarrassing stories from their shared past, tales that had long been hidden in the recesses of their memories.

Amidst the banter, they found joy in recounting youthful escapades, revealing anecdotes about Eddie that made him both blush and join in the laughter. The tour bus became a time machine, transporting them back to the days of awkward adolescence, with the added delight of sharing these moments with someone who had now become a part of their close-knit circle.

As hours slipped away, the scent of beer and cigarettes lingered in the air, and your adoration for the dorky, brown-haired guitarist only deepened with each anecdote shared by his bandmates.This became one of those core memories that etch themselves into your soul—a source of perpetual joy, belonging, and safety whenever you reflect upon it.

Even though you enjoyed the time you spent with the band, you longed for some time alone with Eddie. The earlier kiss lingered, leaving a sweet longing in its wake, the taste of him remaining on your lips. Each and every time you caught a glimpse of his lips, your heart seemed to skip a beat and a cozy warmth spread within you as the memory of his lips moving against yours flashed through your mind. And it was no different for Eddie. 

Gareth noticed the looks you shared, your nonverbal conversations, not knowing how to get away from the boys for some alone time. So he did what every best friend would do.

“Alright guys.” He clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. “I think we should give our lovebirds some time for themselves.” As he stood up, he winked at Eddie, who, in return, mouthed a relieved ‘Thank you’. Before you and Eddie left them, everyone hugged you goodbye, like you’ve always been friends. 

You stumbled out of the bus, still laughing and grinning like a teenager. The cool air of the night let shivers wash over your body, which Eddie noticed instantly. Like the gentleman he was, he put his jacket around your shoulders and placed a kiss on the crown of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You pulled him into a tight embrace, never wanting to let him go, your fingers buried in his still sweaty shirt. But you didn’t mind. He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered in that moment. His hands slowly wandered up and down your back, his fingers gently painting little circles on your skin. 

“I’d love to take you out on a date sometime. A real date.” With his hands cupping your face, he looked down into your eyes. His expression was soft, almost sad at the thought of leaving you soon.

You melted under his touch, a sensation you'd never experienced before. No one had ever made you feel this way, and dreaming of such a connection was something you'd never dared. Surprisingly, Eddie managed to make you forget about your self-imposed "holy oath" against dating again—a so-called no-date policy that now seemed nothing more than a ridiculous joke.

“Come on, sweetness. Let’s get you home,” he whispered after what felt like an eternity. Reluctantly, you agreed and sighed as he broke the embrace. Slowly, you walked back home, taking some detours to prolong the precious moments with him.

Beneath the cloudless night sky, with the moon casting its enchanting glow on the Thames, turning its surface into an ocean of little, shiny diamonds, you felt like you were living in a dream. The most beautiful dream you never wanted to wake up from. All the way back to the pub you talked about home, his tour, your plans for the future, and your plans for whatever that was you two had going on.

With a heavy heart, you sauntered through the small alleys, cast in the dim light of old lanterns, drawing closer to the pub where your little story began. Soon, you recognized the green and brown stained glass windows of the pub, illuminated by the fairy lights Poppy insisted on decorating them with. You knew that Poppy and Teddy would probably be worried about you since it was getting pretty late, but you still didn’t want to leave Eddie's side.

“Whenever and wherever you want,” you promised, giving him a reassuring smile. “I can’t wait to spend more time with you.” You reached up to him, your fingers combing through his soft hair, and gently kissed him again. Eddie's tensed body relaxed under your touch, and you thought you heard a soft moan leaving his chest as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, a shrill screeching cut through the silence, abruptly interrupting your kiss. “Teddy! Teddy, they’re kissing! Oh my god!” Poppy’s excited voice echoed from the small balcony, where she must have been watching the two of you, causing you both to break out in laughter.

“I bet she won't give up until I tell her every single detail about tonight,” you whispered, placing another kiss on Eddie's rough lips.

“Please don’t give this old lady a heart attack with your lewd disclosure of our little romance,” he admonished in a playful way between kisses.

“Teddy! Hurry up! They’re kissing again! Oh, sweet, sweet young love!” her voice filled the air again.

“Jesus Christ, she’s worse than all of those pushy fangirls,” he joked, earning a laugh from you.

“Yeah, sure, Mister Rockstar.”

“What? Don’t believe me?” He looked down at you, something provocative flashing through his eyes.

“Well, maybe I would believe you if you take me to one of your shows, Mister Rockstar,” you winked back at him, a smug grin dancing on your lips before he could kiss it away.

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