#how much more interesting would it have been if you could really work at the relationship to let them know they're not alone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heartyluv · 3 days ago

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ahhhh i really enjoyed your camboy caleb fics 😩 can you do one for zayne? like he starts cramming to pay off his student loans for med school and i think it would be really hot if he always wore a medical mask in his content since i think he would like to keep his anonymity and it would play into his interest in medicine. keep up the good work ❤️❤️

Note: I absolutely love this idea and I love you even more for requesting it. I hope this lives up to your expectations, luvly! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying!

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Warning: Fem!Masturbation, M!Masturbation

· · ──── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──── · ·

Camboy!Zayne/Viewer!Reader

After you get home from work, the first thing you do is shower. You’re exhausted from the day, having to deal with people who believe their word is the gospel when in reality, they’re no better than you because you’re only here for a paycheck.

But it’s over for now, you’re in the comfort of your own home, and it’s a major plus that it’s the weekend. You don’t have to go in for two whole days, so you’re using this time for you. Only problem is, you don’t exactly know what to do.

You don’t want to go out, there’s no new shows you’re interested in, and there’s no one you’re particularly in the mood to call right now. Once you had dinner and you actually had time to do something for yourself, your brain couldn’t come up with one thing to do besides sleep.

That’s until you get a ping notification from your phone.

You’ve been scrolling on it in bed for the last hour, mindlessly swiping past dozens of videos and posts that held no real interest. But when you get the notification and you read it, your heart rate increases and you can’t help but bite your lip. You actually do have something to do, and you couldn’t think of anything better.

Quick Surprise Stream: Dr. Z Will See You Now.

Your thighs press together beneath your fluffy blankets as you tap it, your eyes going to the top left to see the hundreds turn to thousands as people as horny as you start to flood the stream.

You’re not ashamed to be paying a subscription for a camboy on this website you found not too long ago. He’s helped you come more times than any man you’ve ever experienced and it you haven’t had much.

The comments race and you’re unable to read any of them properly. But you don’t care. That’s not what you’re here for.

You first followed Z maybe a few months after he started doing sexual content online. No one knew his real name, only that he went by the single letter and everyone respected his privacy enough to call him just that. You were in love the first time you saw him fuck his hand, and even more so when he fucked a pocket pussy so good that you wished it was you.

From that point forward, you started paying his monthly subscription of $25 to be able to get exclusive access to the things he posts, along with thousands of others. You didn’t mind the price at all, hell you honestly believed it should be more because his work was just that good.

He’s shared a little bit of his backstory with fans, letting people know that he was using the money he makes for school. No one knew what he was going to school for exactly because he didn’t say and he’s done so many videos as different professions that you couldn’t pinpoint if you tried. He’s done one as a professor, lawyer, detective, librarian, and even a mechanic. He knew how to make your pussy weep, no matter who he played.

And he did it all without showing his face. The only thing fans were graced with were those striking eyes and a face that was always covered by a black cloth mask from his nose to his chin. You could just tell he would be the most beautiful man you’d ever see if he let you.

But you didn’t mind at all. You respected his privacy and him, and you’ve spent your fair share of money in support.

Finally, Z comes into the camera frame and you find yourself propping your legs up, bracing your feet on your bed, and spreading your legs. He always does his videos at a desk that’s in his bedroom and it’s no different now.

It’s slightly dark, but you see him just fine and the first thing you see is his slacks and his belt with a white dress shirt tucked inside as he stands. His hands are in his pockets before he takes one out and pulls the chair back, pushing the doctor’s coat that he has on back just a little to give him room to sit. The dress shirt strains against his hard muscles, making your mouth water.

You want to touch yourself, but not yet. You like to come when he does.

“Good evening,” he says softly in that heady yet tender voice you’ve grown to fall in love with. His mask is different this time, blue and white like the surgical ones. Fit for a doctor.

“Did I surprise you?” He looks into the camera and the comments seem to get faster at the way he stares so intensely.

“I thought this would be a good way to start the weekend for many of you. It’s always nice to see your doctor every now and again, isn’t it?” He chuckles deeply and you can’t help but smile. “You know I don’t do much talking, not when I’m like this.”

He sits back, letting the evident bulge in his pants show. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

He doesn’t waste anymore time, beginning to unbutton his shirt. It’s slow and torturous, but it only makes you crave him more.

“I can only imagine how pretty all of you must look right now,” he whispered as he reaches the final buttons, pulling the shirt open to reveal his impressive and strong chest.

“Dr. Z will take care of you,” he promises sweetly. “I always do.”

He leans back in his chair and that’s when you finally snake your hand down into your panties. The clink of his belt and the sound of his zipper makes you clench around nothing. You’re soaked already, you just know it.

With one hand holding your phone and the other teasing your pussy lips, your toes dig into the bed as he shimmies the pants down ever so slightly to pull himself out.

When his long and thick cock is revealed, you press your thighs together even harder, squeezing your hand in between. But quickly, you spread them again as he starts to stroke himself.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he says lowly. A finger goes down to your hungry hole, whimpering when you feel how wet you really are and he’s only just getting started.

You bring your slick to your hard clit, jolting at how sensitive you are. His movements are slow as his strong hand with veins so prominent that it makes your cunt throb, works his cock. He stares at himself before looking into the camera with lust in his gaze.

He’s watching you. It feels like he can see you touch yourself, can see you please your desperate cunt. That only makes you wetter.

He gets vocal now as you see the small bead of his cum start to form at his flushed tip. The erotic sight of his hand adorned with a watch, taking that bead and smearing it all over his length, makes your legs spread more.

His breaths are heavy as he starts to moan, cursing under his breath as his black hair falls into his captivating eyes. His abs flex with each shuddering breath and you circle your clit harder—faster.

“You’re so pretty with your hand down your pants. I wonder if you’re alone. Or if you’re watching me get ready to come with someone in the room with you. Do they know how I make you feel? Do they know how filthy you are, hm?” he teases as he fucks his fist harder.

“I know you’d feel so good around me,” he whines softly as more precum leaks. “I know you’d feel so much better than this. Nothing could compare, could it?”

You’re moaning now, your own breathing erratic as your fingers gather more of your sweet juices. You nearly drop the phone at how good you feel, but you can’t. You have to see him come so you can come too.

“I’m so close,” he warns erotically. “I wish I could fill you up. I wish I could pump you with my cum. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I’d make us feel so good. But, we’ll have to settle for this, for now.”

Your fingers go between fingering your hole to stimulating your desperate bundle of nerves, feeling that familiar sensation coil in your gut.

“Be good for your doctor, pretty. Come for me. Come with me.”

You cry out as his load shoots from his tip, thick and heavy while it pools down his knuckles as you cream all over your fingers. As he still jerks his cum from his cock, using what he’s already let go to create sticky and wet noise, you keep rubbing yourself slowly, wincing at how sensitive you are. It aches so good.

Finally, he pulls his hand back, letting his softening cock settle as you watch how his cloudy cum falls down it like a picturesque scene.

You’re enamored. You’ve never seen a cock so perfect. You wish you could feel it. You wish you could have him.

“I hope you listened and came for me. I like it when we come together.” His voice is playful and it makes you smile again. You feel stupid for smiling, but you can’t help it.

“This was just a quick one. I was thinking about you, so I wanted to let you see how good you make me feel. I have to go now, but I’ll be seeing you again soon. Sleep well for me, but if your day is just getting started, I want you thinking of the mess I’ve made in between those pretty thighs.”

He leans forward to end the stream shortly after letting you see him tuck his messy cock back into his pants and your drop your phone to the bed, pulling your hand out of your panties.

You’re hoping he’s streaming again soon. Perhaps you should finally cave and pay him for a request because if this is how you can spend your weekend, then it’ll be a weekend well spent.

#love and deepspace #love and deespace smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x you #zayne smut #zayne x reader

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hittmeandtellmeyouremine · 8 hours ago

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rafe catching puddin grinding on his pillow? she said she discovered it by watching those movies by herself without rafe knowing

pairing: puddin!reader x older!rafe

warnings: mdni, lottie do not read, smut (sort of), dry humping, ddlg themes, use of 'daddy'.

word count: 1.2k+ words

a/n: what show was i talking about? 😏

rafe had been so busy with work, wrapped up in some 'goat island' deal that was stressing him out like no other. as much as you miss him, you also know he needs his space. he specifically told you that once this passed, his attention would be all yours again.

and boy did you want that.

to soothe the growing boredom that was festering as a result of his absence, you decide to scroll through netflix in search of something to occupy yourself. usually rafe did this but you finished the last show he put on for you and he was busy, so now you had to do it yourself.

you scroll through what's trending on the platform, finding a show about a bookstore owner who develops feelings for a girl he meets. you like books, you like love. seems easy enough.

the title card for the streaming platform plays and you focus your eyes onto the screen. in the back of your mind, all you could think of was rafe and his approval. wait until you showed him the show you found.

it was interesting enough. the main character was a little odd and very flawed but you liked it, somewhat. very different from everything else you watched, surely more mature. you desperately wished rafe was there to watch it with you.

your thoughts of him were put to a stop when you saw the girl start to kiss her boyfriend. not just a nice kiss either, no. it was how rafe had recently started kissing you. you sat up, moving towards the edge of the bed to get a better look.

they were doing what you wanted to with rafe.

you watch as her boyfriend settles himself between her thighs, moving against her with calculated movements. it wasn't the best angle, but you got the point. your eyes lit up as you watch the moment progress, yearning for that connection.

wait. that was it?

it was over before it really even started, she looks disappointed too. the narrator made a comment about her not finishing which you connected to what rafe made you feel, that one night.

her boyfriend was an asshole, making everything about himself and seeing himself out without giving her much time to protest the matter. you frown at the scene, thinking maybe you didn't like this show after all.

you glance towards the door, not hearing any sort of verbal indication of rafe's arrival. you sighed and turn your attention back to screen.

wait. what was she doing?

her eyes focus onto a green pillow, kind of cylinder shaped. you don't have much time to question it before she settles the pillow between her legs. she's moving against it like she was moving against her against her boyfriend. not only that but she looked happier.

your pupils dilate as you watch, the pleasured gasp leaving her lips making you crave that feeling. maybe you did like this show after all. rafe hadn't given you a taste of that feeling again, not since the night his hand was buried between your thighs. you missed it, to say the least.

surely if she could feel that way by herself, so could you. right?

you nibbled on your bottom lip, debating the matter. you did have a pillow similar to that one and it was longer too. plus, rafe was so busy. he wouldn't be coming back to you anytime soon. you turn around, eyes darting between the pillow and your open door.

the pillow was between your thighs a few seconds later, your body kneeling over it experimentally. the girl was laying on her back but this seems like a better fit, somehow.

your eyes glance back over to the doorway one last time, listening for rafe. there was no sign of him though. and sure, you could close the door but then you wouldn't hear if he was coming.

you slowly begin to drag your hips on the pillow, pressing it between your thighs and keeping it there with a somewhat firm grip. it was an odd sensation at first, you didn't get what the big deal was.

that was until the pillow notches a certain part of you that had you crying out, biting your lip as you caught yourself. it was a blissful feeling, making you angle the pillow to continue it.

the friction was something you didn't fully understand, but it felt like how rafe's fingers felt and that was all you needed to know.

small cries leave your lips as you continue to grind against the pillow, the show long forgotten by this point. you imagine it was rafe instead, touching you and making you feel good. the thought made you moan a bit louder, so lost in th-

"enjoying yourself, puddin'?"

you yelp, jumping and stopping your movements all at once.

rafe leans against your doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. there was a slight smirk on his face.

"whatcha watchin', baby?" he asks, stepping into your room and looking at the tv.

"i-"

you try to answer him, you really do, but how were you supposed to when he just caught you using your pillow like that.

"i can explain, daddy" you start.

"explain what, puddin'?" he cocks his head at you, eyes flickering to the pink pillow between your thighs.

"t-the girl on the show, she was doing it and it looked like it felt good and i-"

"did it? feel good?" he asks, standing at the edge of your bed now.

you hesitate on answering.

"puddin', i asked you a question" he says. "daddy's not mad at you, i just want to know"

"yeah, it felt nice" you say quietly, suddenly feeling guilty.

you pull the pillow from between your thighs, orgasm long forgotten by now. you sink into the bed, legs folded beneath you.

"why'd you stop?" he questions.

"i don't know, feel like i did something bad" you mumble.

"why's that, puddin'?"

"because you weren't doing it with me" you answer.

truth be told, rafe liked watching you squirm. he liked seeing you so curious , so desperate. it stirred something inside of him, knowing that you were still thinking about the other night.

"i taught you how to make yourself feel good though, did i not?"

you nod slowly.

"and you found a new way to do it on your own?" he adds.

you nod again.

"why is that such an issue?"

"i don't want to do it on my own" you whine. "i want to do it with you"

there it was, the reason you were all pouty and pissy. god, your loyalty was truly something else. so loyal to him that you felt guilty for getting yourself off.

such a good girl, his good girl.

"come here" he said, sitting on the edge of your bed beside you and pulling you onto his lap.

"you can make yourself feel good, without daddy. i don't mind" he reassures.

his hands move down to your thighs, squeezing lightly and digging his thumbs into the curve of them.

"i'd prefer if you asked me to help you out, but maybe you don't want that?" he tests.

"no, no. i do" you shake your head.

"i just want my girl to be happy," he coos. "but do me a favor and don't watch this stuff by yourself anymore, yeah?"

you nod obediently.

"i want to be the one who teaches you how to feel good, together—puddin' and daddy" he says, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

"okay, daddy"

"good girl"

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paxaz535 · 2 days ago

Text

The Space Between Us (1)

paige bueckers x black!oc

synopsis :

Best friends since childhood, Kamiya and Paige always thought their bond was unbreakable. But when they reunite at the family cabin after years apart, the line between friendship and something more begins to blur. As the tension between them builds, they must face what they’ve always known deep down: they’ve been more than close all along.

(this contains smut [in next chapter] !)

—————

Kamiya and Paige had always been close��ever since they were five years old, playing together in the sandbox in Paige’s backyard.

Their fathers, Bob (Paige’s dad) and Jonathan (Kamiya’s dad), had been best friends since high school. They bonded over their shared love of basketball and had been inseparable ever since.

That love for the game carried on to Paige, who practically grew up with a ball in her hands. Kamiya, not so much. She was always more into volleyball than anything else. Bob and Jonathan tried getting her into basketball, but it just never stuck.

Still, Jonathan supported his daughter through it all—especially after Kamiya’s mom walked out on them one random Thursday night.

Ever since that night, things had changed. Kamiya didn’t talk about her mom much—not because she didn’t care, but because she had learned not to expect answers. Jonathan picked up the pieces the best he could, and Paige’s family helped fill in the gaps.

Sleepovers became more frequent. Paige’s step mom would braid Kamiya’s hair and pack her snacks for school when Jonathan had to work late. To Kamiya, the Bueckers’ house started to feel like a second home.

By the time middle school came around, Kamiya and Paige were more like sisters than friends. They did everything together—sat next to each other in every class, FaceTimed every night even when they had just seen each other, and had inside jokes that nobody else understood.

People used to say they were attached at the hip. And for a long time, they were.

But then high school happened.

At first, not much changed. They still walked to school together, still sat next to each other at lunch, still sent each other outfit pics every morning to coordinate. But little things started to creep in—new friends, different classes, separate teams.

Paige made varsity basketball her freshman year. It was a big deal. Suddenly, she was surrounded by older teammates, practices every afternoon, and the buzz of school recognition. Kamiya was proud of her—she really was—but it stung a little to see less of her.

Kamiya had joined the volleyball team, and while she loved it, it didn’t get nearly as much attention. Her games were barely half full, and no one was writing about her in the school newsletter. Paige always said, “You’re killing it out there,” but sometimes it felt like she was just being nice.

They were still close. Still best friends. But there were moments—between texts left on read, and the “sorry I can’t, I have practice”—where Kamiya wondered if Paige was outgrowing her.

And then came the real test: boys.

Or at least, that’s what everyone thought. Paige had never really shown much interest. Sure, she’d play along when the other girls gushed about whoever was “so fine” in third period, but Kamiya always noticed how quiet she got when the conversation got too deep.

Kamiya, on the other hand, was trying to figure it all out. She’d dated a guy in freshman year for about two weeks—Derrick, from biology—but it felt more like checking a box than actually liking someone. She laughed at his jokes, let him hold her hand in the hallway, but when he kissed her outside the gym after practice, all she could think was, Is that it?

Meanwhile, Paige seemed perfectly content not dating at all. When Kamiya brought it up once—just teasing, like: “So, when are you finally gonna get yourself a boyfriend?”—Paige had only shrugged, looking away.

“I don’t really like boys like that.”

Kamiya had blinked, caught off guard. “Oh.” She tried to play it cool, but her mind spun.

She’d never thought about it before. Not really. But that night, lying in bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not about Paige specifically—at least, not yet—but about how she’d felt when this girl from the volleyball team had called her pretty the other day. How her stomach flipped in a way it never did with Derrick.

Something was shifting.

And even though Kamiya didn’t have the words for it yet, a small part of her—buried deep and quiet—was starting to stir.

It started with the little things.

The way Paige would laugh so hard she’d throw her head back, eyes squeezed shut. The way she always remembered to bring Kamiya extra sour gummy worms on game days, even though she hated the smell of them. The way she always seemed to know when something was off, even when Kamiya hadn’t said a word.

One Friday night, they were at Paige’s house watching a movie. It was some cheesy rom-com they’d seen a million times, but Paige insisted it was tradition. They sat close—closer than usual—legs tangled under the blanket they always shared.

Halfway through the movie, Paige fell asleep. Her head rested on Kamiya’s shoulder, her breathing soft and even. Kamiya didn’t move. She just sat there, completely still, heart thudding in her chest.

She looked down at Paige, her face relaxed in sleep, and for the first time, she realized something terrifying.

She didn’t just love Paige.

She liked her.

Not in a best friend kind of way. Not in the way everyone joked about when they called them “a married couple.”

In the way that made her heart ache a little. In the way that made her scared to say it out loud.

She stared at the TV, not really seeing it anymore. Her throat felt tight.

Because what if this was just her?

What if Paige didn’t feel the same way?

What if it ruined everything?

Kamiya gently leaned her head on Paige’s, trying to quiet the storm in her chest.

She didn’t have the answers yet.

But she knew one thing for sure:

Something had changed.

The next morning, Kamiya acted like nothing had happened.

She cracked jokes, scrolled through TikTok with Paige like usual, and even teased her for drooling in her sleep. But inside, she was spiraling.

She kept replaying the night in her head—the weight of Paige’s head on her shoulder, the soft warmth of her breath, the way her heart had nearly exploded just sitting there.

And it only got worse from there.

At school, Paige was all smiles, greeting people in the hallway, dapping up her teammates, laughing with that same effortless energy that made everyone gravitate toward her. But Kamiya couldn’t stop watching her. Couldn’t stop feeling everything.

It was torture.

Especially when Paige hugged her from behind in the cafeteria like she always did—only now Kamiya felt her entire body freeze. Her brain screamed, Act normal.

She didn’t.

Paige noticed. “You good?” she asked later, brows furrowed as they sat outside during free period.

“Yeah,” Kamiya lied, eyes on her water bottle. “Just tired.”

Paige nudged her. “You’ve been weird all day.”

Kamiya shrugged. “You’re weird every day. Guess it’s contagious.”

Paige rolled her eyes, laughing. But her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The thing was, Kamiya didn’t know how to say what she was feeling. Didn’t know how to ask Paige if maybe—just maybe—there was something there between them too.

Because if she was wrong, it could ruin everything.

And for the first time in years, she felt like the distance between them was growing—and she didn’t know how to close it.

It happened at a party.

One of Paige’s teammates—Jas—was throwing a huge end-of-season thing. Kamiya didn’t even want to go, but Paige had begged her to come. “Please? Just for a little bit. I’ll even buy you your weird kombucha.”

So she went. Regretted it the second they walked in.

The music was loud. The lights were dim. And Paige? She lit up the second they walked through the door, dapping up her team, laughing, moving through the room like she belonged there.

Then there was her.

Nia. A sophomore who played soccer and looked like she belonged in a Nike ad. She and Paige had a class together—or so Kamiya had heard.

She watched from across the room as Nia leaned in, too close, whispering something into Paige’s ear. Paige laughed, hand brushing Nia’s arm.

Kamiya looked away fast, pretending not to care. Pretending she didn’t feel like someone had lit a match in her chest.

“I’m getting some air,” she mumbled to no one in particular, slipping out the back door.

She stayed out there for a while, letting the cold bite at her skin. Letting herself breathe.

Paige came out eventually, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Kamiya said, a little too fast. “Just needed some space.”

Paige nodded, but didn’t push. That almost made it worse.

“I got accepted!” Kamiya screamed, practically launching off the couch as the email loaded on her phone.

Jonathan, Bob, Paige, Drew, and Moe all erupted into cheers from around the living room. Jonathan pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground, his face split into the proudest grin she’d ever seen.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered. “Knew you had it in you.”

Paige was the next to hug her—tight, warm, familiar.

“I told you!” Paige beamed. “I knew they’d want you.”

Kamiya laughed, still in shock. “Guess I’m college material now, huh?”

Paige nudged her. “You’ve always been.”

Kamiya’s acceptance came just a day after Paige found out she was headed to UConn on a partial basketball scholarship. Everyone had celebrated her news too—Jonathan and Bob had cracked open a bottle of champagne, and Moe had baked cupcakes with “UConn” spelled out in blue frosting.

Kamiya had been genuinely happy for her. Paige was going to a school that fit her. She’d be playing the sport she loved, living in a place where she could finally shine. It was perfect.

But there was a part of Kamiya—a quiet, insecure part—that wondered what it would mean for them.

They wouldn’t be at the same school. They wouldn’t walk the same hallways or eat lunch under the same tree anymore. It wouldn’t be FaceTime at midnight after a bad practice—it’d be maybe catching each other’s texts between classes or team meetings.

And what made it worse was… they still hadn’t talked about that night. The party. The way Kamiya had walked off. The way Paige had looked at her, confused, maybe even hurt.

So Kamiya smiled and celebrated like nothing was bothering her.

But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something precious was slipping through her fingers.

Kamiya’s three years of college had been everything she hoped for. She made new friends, joined a cultural org that felt like family, traveled for tournaments with her volleyball team, and even landed a sweet internship sophomore year. She was proud of the woman she was becoming—confident, steady, doing things for her.

But this time of year always pulled her back.

It was May now. Finals were almost over. Her junior year was closing out, and soon she’d be stepping into her final year of undergrad. A part of her was thrilled—excited for what was ahead. But another part, quieter and heavier, kept tugging her back to something… someone.

Paige.

She hadn’t seen her in person since last summer. She’d heard about the injury—a torn ligament, maybe? Something that benched her for most of the season. Kamiya found out through Instagram before she heard it from Paige directly. That stung a little.

They still texted sometimes. Liked each other’s posts. Sent the occasional meme. But it wasn’t like before. Not even close.

And maybe that was okay. People grow apart.

But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

What haunted Kamiya most wasn’t the distance. It was the fact that she never told Paige how she felt. Not really. Not in a way that counted.

She could’ve said it a hundred times. At that party. Before they left for college. At the lake last summer by the fire, when Paige looked at her like she knew.

But she hadn’t. And now, she didn’t know if that window had already closed.

Still… something about this summer felt different.

It was just a feeling—an ache in her gut, a whisper in the back of her mind—but Kamiya knew.

Something was going to happen.

She just didn’t know if it would heal her…

Or break her completely.

Kamiya sat on the edge of her bed, her suitcase open but barely touched. Clothes were piled on the floor around her—sweatshirts she might need if it got chilly, the swimsuit Paige once joked she looked hot in, and an old T-shirt Paige had left behind years ago that Kamiya never returned.

She stared at it now, fingers brushing over the faded cotton.

There were a thousand things she wished she could say. She wanted to tell Paige she missed her. That she was proud of her. That the distance hadn’t changed how she felt—not really.

But those words had stayed stuck in her throat for three years.

Now she was going to see her again.

And it scared her.

Not just because of what she might feel—but because of what she might not feel. What if too much time had passed? What if Paige didn’t even think about her like that anymore—if she ever did?

Still, she packed the shirt. Just in case.

The driveway crunched under the tires as she pulled up, late afternoon sun dripping through the trees. Her chest was tight.

As she stepped out, the smell of pine and lake water hit her like a memory. She heard voices from the porch—laughter, low conversation, the familiar warmth of family that hadn’t changed.

Then she saw her.

Paige.

Sitting on the porch steps, wearing an oversized hoodie, her joggers hanging low on her waist. Her hair was longer now, tied in a messy bun. But her smile—when she looked up and saw Kamiya—was still the same.

Kamiya froze for half a second, unsure what to do with everything crashing through her.

Then Paige stood—slowly, carefully—and walked over.

“Three years and you still pack like you’re moving across the country,” she teased, eyeing Kamiya’s giant duffel.

Kamiya grinned, nerves tangled in her chest. “Some things never change.”

Paige’s eyes held hers for just a moment longer than they needed to. “Some things do.”

Kamiya’s heart skipped.

The words weren’t loud.

But the meaning behind them?

Louder than ever.

Kamiya was woken up by a huge splash of water. She shot up, gasping as the freezing cold soaked through her shirt and bonnet.

Laughter and hurried footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Go! G—go!”

She didn’t need to see them to know who it was—Drew and Paige.

Kamiya sat there for a moment, stunned, water dripping down her face. She knew they didn’t mean any harm by it—but come on. Waking her up with water? When she hadn’t asked to get wet? It pissed her off.

She jumped up with a loud scream, startling Bob and Jonathan, who were casually watching a random Lakers game on the living room couch.

Her bonnet clung to her head, soaked through. Her hair—freshly washed the night before—was completely drenched again.

“Paige! Drew!” she yelled, stomping down the stairs.

The two culprits were lounging on the couch chairs, feigning innocence.

“Why are you screaming?” Jonathan asked, turning his head, clearly confused.

“They poured water on me!” Kamiya snapped.

Paige and Drew exchanged a look. “No we didn’t—” Drew started.

“Don’t lie to me, Drew,” Kamiya cut in sharply.

That’s when she realized what she was wearing.

She looked down and groaned. The white sleep shirt she had on was now see-through, clinging to her like a second skin. Her red bra was very visible, and the soaked fabric hugged her curves like a compression top.

Moe was the first to notice, letting out a soft giggle as she covered her mouth. “Sweetie, you might want to go change.”

Kamiya closed her eyes and sighed, this whole morning already going to shit.

Paige looked up at her—and instantly turned pink.

Her eyes darted away too quickly, like she’d seen too much and wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“Moe, you possibly couldn’t have brought weave.. could you?” Moe, already knowing just laughed.

“I have it, sweetie. We can start on your braids when you get changed.”

Kamiya didn’t say another word. She just spun around and stormed back upstairs, muttering curses under her breath.

Upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms, Kamiya sat cross-legged on a stool while Moe stood behind her, parting her hair with practiced fingers.

The soft pull of the comb, the gentle tap of Moe’s rings brushing her scalp—it all slowly started to calm her down.

“I swear,” Kamiya muttered, wincing as Moe gripped a stubborn section, “they think they’re so funny.”

“They’re just trying to get under your skin,” Moe said, amused. “That means they missed you.”

Kamiya rolled her eyes, even though a tiny part of her knew Moe was probably right. Still—water?

As Moe started the first braid, the smell of bacon and toast drifted up through the cracked bedroom door. Kamiya’s stomach growled on instinct.

Moe smirked. “Smells like guilt.”

Downstairs, Paige flipped another pancake, trying to act cool while internally panicking. “Is this too much syrup?” she asked, holding the bottle over a plate.

Drew looked at her, unimpressed. “You’ve poured it like five times already.”

“I just—she’s mad, Drew.”

“She should be! You soaked her like she was in a car wash,” he said, smacking her hand away from the syrup. “Just focus on the eggs.”

“I’m trying, okay?” Paige muttered, cheeks still flushed.

Back upstairs, Moe’s fingers moved quickly through Kamiya’s hair.

“You know,” she said gently, “there’s always a moment during braids where you gotta sit still and let yourself breathe. Might as well use the time to figure out what’s really bothering you.”

Kamiya didn’t respond at first. She stared out the window, watching the lake shimmer in the distance.

“I’m just tired,” she finally said. “And maybe… a little annoyed she looked at me like that.”

Moe raised a brow. “Like what?”

Kamiya hesitated, then sighed. “Like she saw something she wasn’t ready to see.”

Moe smiled to herself, fingers still moving. “Or maybe she saw something she’s just now realizing she likes seeing.”

Downstairs, Paige carefully placed a plate with pancakes, eggs, and turkey bacon on a tray. Drew added a glass of orange juice.

“She’s gonna throw this at us,” he whispered.

“She won’t,” Paige said, unsure.

They started up the stairs, holding the tray like it was a peace offering made of gold.

Upstairs, Kamiya sat quietly while Moe worked through her hair, parting and braiding each section with care. The gentle pull of the comb and the quiet hum of Moe’s voice were grounding—but her mind was still spinning.

She wasn’t even that mad anymore. Just… embarrassed. Caught off guard.

The soft creak of the door broke the silence.

“Uh… Kamiya?” Paige’s voice came gently, almost unsure.

Kamiya glanced over her shoulder. Paige stood in the doorway holding a tray, and Drew lingered behind her, both of them looking a little too nervous for comfort.

“We made you breakfast,” Paige said, her tone lighter now. “Kind of an apology-slash-peace-offering.”

Drew held up a mug like it was a trophy. “And coffee.”

Kamiya looked at them for a second, then at the tray. Pancakes, eggs, turkey bacon. Her stomach growled at the sight—and Paige heard it, a flicker of a smile pulling at her lips.

Moe gave Kamiya’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Smells good. You should eat before I finish the back.”

Kamiya exhaled, her walls softening. “I wasn’t that mad,” she said quietly, eyes shifting between them. “Just… surprised. I had just washed my hair.”

Paige nodded, her face full of guilt. “I know. I didn’t think it through. I’m sorry, Kami.”

Drew nodded too. “Same here. It was supposed to be funny, but we messed up.”

Kamiya gave a small shrug and glanced at the tray. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she mumbled, reaching slowly for the fork.

“We wanted to,” Paige said, her voice soft. “Especially me.”

Their eyes met—just for a second. It held longer than either expected.

Kamiya looked away first, trying to hide the tiny smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, okay,” she said, finally taking a bite. “This is good.”

Paige visibly relaxed, laughing a little. “Thank God. I was one burnt pancake away from giving up.”

Moe chuckled behind them. “And that’s why I stay in my lane.”

Kamiya giggled softly, chewing her food, her mood lighter now. “You’re lucky this is good,” she said, pointing her fork at Drew and Paige. “Next time y’all do something dumb, I’m pouring water back.”

“Fair,” Drew said with a grin.

Paige smiled. But hers lingered a bit longer, watching Kamiya with something more in her eyes. Something gentle. Unspoken.

And for once, Kamiya didn’t look away too fast.

The sun had started to dip behind the trees, casting a golden hue across the lake. The water shimmered, rippling softly from the occasional breeze. It was peaceful—so much calmer than the chaos of this morning.

Kamiya sat on the dock with her feet dangling just above the surface, her braids freshly done and pulled back in a loose ponytail. She hugged her knees to her chest, letting the quiet settle around her.

Footsteps approached, slow and unsure.

She didn’t need to look up to know it was Paige.

“You mind if I sit?” Paige asked softly.

Kamiya shrugged. “It’s your dock too.”

Paige eased down beside her, careful not to get too close. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Just the sound of birds in the distance, water lapping against the wood, and the hush of trees swaying in the wind.

“I really am sorry,” Paige said eventually, her voice low. “Not just about the water. About… everything.”

Kamiya turned to look at her. “What do you mean, everything?”

“I mean… I know we’ve drifted. And I didn’t try hard enough to stop it. I thought maybe I was giving you space, but maybe I was just scared you didn’t want to be that close anymore.”

Kamiya blinked, caught off guard by the honesty.

“I never wanted to not be close,” she said. “But we were growing up. I figured you were just busy. And I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could never bother me,” Paige said quickly, her eyes locking with Kamiya’s. “Never.”

The air grew still for a moment. Their gazes held, longer this time. Kamiya’s chest tightened, heart starting to beat a little faster.

“I missed you,” Kamiya admitted, the words barely a whisper.

Paige swallowed. “I missed you too.”

There was something hanging in the air between them now—something unspoken but deeply felt.

Paige hesitated, then added, “Earlier… when your shirt was—uh, see-through…” She trailed off, cheeks already turning pink. “It wasn’t just the water that threw me off.”

Kamiya blinked. Her heart jumped.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Paige paused, searching for the right words. “I’ve always liked girls. You know that. But with you… I didn’t let myself think about it. Not really. Until today.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy—it was electric.

Kamiya looked out over the lake again, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know what I like yet,” she said honestly. “But when you looked at me like that… it didn’t feel wrong.”

Paige turned toward her, eyes searching hers. “It didn’t?”

Kamiya shook her head. “No. It felt… different. But not wrong.”

A smile tugged at Paige’s lips. “So… maybe this summer’s gonna be different.”

Kamiya finally smiled too, soft but real. “Maybe it will.”

And for a moment, they just sat there—side by side—letting the possibility hang between them, warm and bright like the sunset behind the trees.

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #this is what makes us girls #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic

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existence-is-a-pain87 · 2 days ago

Note

Do you have any self aware Rodger as yet? Plz ? 🥺

I did have a piece that Tumblr deleted by accident, but I can definitely make a new one!

Also, just a quick note: To ANYONE who wants to make fanart or fanpieces based off the things I make, DO IT. DO IT AND SEND ME WHATEVER YOU MAKE!

I WANNA SEE THE ART AND THINGS YOU MAKE!! ESPECIALLY IF I INSPIRED YOU!

PLEASE I BEG OF YOU ALL!!!

Detective's Work

Yandere!Self-Aware!Rodger x Reader

Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors, swearing

--☆☆☆☆☆--

Rodger was interested in you.

A player they can hear? My, how interesting!

Did that mean he liked you? No.

You were not necessarily someone he veiwed himself as liking. You were just... too excited, strangely loving, and...

Rash. Far too rash.

You blurted out whatever came to mind, endlessly spoke to those you played with in the chat, would ignore Twisteds charging at you in order to grab items.

He was interested in you, yes, but he wasn't like Goob.

He didn't like you immediately.

He actually believed you could be a danger. Perhaps you'd be cruel and only put upon a façade of gentleness. Perhaps this was you in an especially good mood.

He didn't think he would ever 'like you', per say. He would look into you, view you with hesitation and skepticism, but not like.

He swore to himself he'd never truely liked you.

He didn't realize he was lying to himself.

--☆☆☆--

He didn't like that you swore.

It didn't happen constantly, but occasionally, a cuss would fly from your mouth in fits of frustration. Especially when a Twisted came out of seemingly nowhere for you and damaged you.

Once you did that to Toodles.

For a moment, he hated you.

Then, almost instantly, you talked about how you couldn't swear to a child and immediately apologized.

Rodger liked that you took ownership of your actions and apologized when you realized you did wrong.

He started to believe perhaps you were no threat.

Perhaps you were someone he could like, if even slightly.

He kept his eye closely trained on you, which he found much easier when you played him far more than any other Toon.

You adored research as much as he did and would run around collecting it, thrilled to get more research for Toons.

He didn't admit that he liked how much you played him.

--☆☆☆--

He was the first to tweak the game.

He was the first Toon to realize they were in a game and to find the code, so is it hard to figure he was the first to learn how to tweak the game?

It was simple anyways, something no one would notice.

He made it exponentially more likely for Main Twisteds to spawn when you played him, or for Twisteds who research you wanted.

It was simple work, something barely anyone noticed.

In fact, when someone did notice, they weren't even angry, just happy to see you more.

He even went as far as forcing a Twisted Dandy to spawn when you desperately wanted to fufill the Astro requirement.

Dandy was pissed, but Rodger didn't care much.

It was simple detectives work, after all.

Anyways, Toodles really liked you. She thought you were really cool and really wanted to meet your cat.

He told himself him warming up to you was only because Toodles liked you.

He was lying to himself.

--☆☆☆--

Rodger was filling notebooks with information he gathered about you.

He's filled twelve to the brim with tiny words, and drained a number of pens.

All to contain information about you, every single piece of information unique or expanding upon pieces of information he already gathered.

He's constantly writing more based off all the information he's been able to gather about you from what you said to them or people around you when you were playing.

A while ago, Rodger learnt of Vee seeming to know significantly more about you than he did.

She didn't crack when he kept trying to interview her and learn what she knew of you that he didn't.

It frustrated him, but he didn't dare share this with everyone.

He just resumed gathering whatever information about you he could.

Then he found the microphone.

--☆☆☆--

Scraps had to stop lending Rodger pens with the amount of them he drained empty.

He wasn't too fazed. He just used your note app and transferred all his notes about you to there and hid it from you.

Rodger had stopped lying to himself about liking you at this point.

No, he loved you. Loved you to the point of obsession.

He knew it was wrong. That he was setting a bad example for Toodles. He didn't care.

To their creators and their gods, he fucking LOVED you.

Wow, now you even had him swearing when Toodles wasn't around.

To him, you were the other parent Toodles needed in her life. Supportive, gentle, and able to be much more excited and playful than he could.

He didn't even need to think long over if you'd like to play with Toodles or not.

You were not the perfect person for children, and several times you had stated you didn't want children.

But he knew he could change your mind.

Oh, even with all he knew of you, he desperately wanted to sit you down and interview you for hours. Desperately wanted to learn how you ticked, to see your little quirks face to face.

He wanted to tie you up and never let you free.

He wanted to resent you for this obsession. For you making him obsessed.

But he knew better. He knew you never meant to do this to him, you never meant for anyone to be obsessed with you.

He couldn't resent you.

He never could.

He wasn't even frustrated he never learnt why it was you they heard, and only you.

No, he was pleased.

You frustrated him occasionally, yes.

But god, he wanted to do so many things to you.

He could now admit to himself he adored you utterly and completely.

It was merely an effect of his detectives' work, after all. And he couldn't be more pleased by the mystery of you being solved.

#endri yaps #dandy's world x reader #dandys world x reader #self aware dandy's world #self aware dandys world #yandere dandy's world #yandere dandys world #dandys world #dandy's world #yandere dandys world x reader #rodger dandys world #rodger x reader #yandere rodger x reader

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luvchaew · 1 day ago

Text

moonlit lakes, fireflies, etc | yjw

sitting across from a young man on a train, you were sure you hadn't seen him before. not in this life at least. so why did his gaze make you so comfortable? why did his touch feel so familiar, so right?

“we'll meet again, young lady Jeong.” 𓈒𓈒 joseon dynasty prince 양정원 𖹭 joseon dynasty lady!reader, prohibited love, s2pl? wc𓈒 7.9k — maybe proofread ≛ ﹙ft. twice nayeon, idle miyeon, boa, mentions of enhypen jake﹚

here you'll find ౨ৎ fluff fluff fluff, past life, kinda time travel, paradoxes, angst (i tried guys go easy on me), they kiss once, jungwon is kinda obsessed, banter (except it's cute), mentions of kidnapping, killing, and whatnots, jungwon gets ‘spanked’ by his own family, male chauvinism bcs of the time it's based on (i do not support it of any kinds!), potential forced marriage, runaway attempts, ‘open’ ending.

[ ♬ 🏮 ] ——— this idea is something that i thought abt long ago but haven't had the opportunity to turn into words properly before. it is slightly inspired on ‘my demon’ (the past life stuff ofc) and i recommend listening to this song which also inspired me a lot! i really enjoy how this turned out so i hope you like it as much. this is my first kind of ‘long’ fic ever and if i'm lucky you're gonna enjoy it, hehe. xoxo 𖹭

𝑚. 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

Busan Train Station, 2025

immediately when you stepped on the wagon, a penetrating gaze found you.

somehow, it affected you more than the chilling air of trains that you claimed to hate more than anything.

it had been a terrible day. so bad that you were going to your personal escape — the Joseon Dynasty Tombs of a young Yang family Heir or anything you used to go with your godmother, all the time as a kid — at 11pm, to run away from the problems real life brought you.

you expected to find the train empty given the hour, like it had been many times before, but today you had company. normally you would have sat really far from the young, good-looking man that eyed you, but you didn't.

holding your heavy luggages, you sat across from him. your eyes didn't leave his face for a second, scanning his features, admiring his cat shaped eyes, almost feeling how soft his hair seemed to be.

you hadn't seen him before. never.

yet, he looked familiar. he looked safe. he looked like home.

during the two and a half hours ride, both of you didn't speak.

but there was no need to.

because your eyes did all the work, having a secret conversation you seemed to be awkwardly aware of.

you could imagine what his interest might've been, what kind of song he might’ve listened to, how his voice might have sounded, what his name could've been.

Surroundings of Deoksugung Palace, 1752 —— Joseon Dynasty

young master Yang. the start of all your troubles and also the end of your peace. it was a offense to our late King Gwanghaegun how handsome he was, however, you had already created a common sense that charming young masters used to be the pettiest.

“young lady Jeong!” he shouted your name, his tall figure waving in your direction smiling widely. if you weren't surrounded by a dense forest, you would've ran away. literally. “i figured you'd come here, it really is a pretty sunny day, isn't it?”

you were supposed to study today. your father told you that royal ladies had in their duties to understand the world and be aware of what threatened your daily lives — rival families and japanese invasions, for example. therefore, you walked towards the lake with a few texts from your favorite scribes tucked under your arms and your long hair braided simply, a ddanggi keeping it steady.

“i’m here to read today, okay? do not bother me, thank you in advance” you muttered, sitting down on the rocks by the lake with your back turned to him, trying to focus on the water current and how the sun reflected its sunlights on it beautifully, some fishes jumping on the water from time to time.

jungwon stared at you, but continued speaking, his voice coming to your ears like music, “my maid has been looking for me for about an hour, did you know that? thus, it's very thrilling.”

“you do know that my uncle wants to kidnap your father, don't you? haven't you got nothing better to do besides walk all the way here to bother me?”

“no?” he cleared his throat, blinking at you and settling himself closer, the semi-transparent hat that he always wore accentuating the height difference between you. “my mother yelled at me last time saying that if i came here again she'd lock me up, but i like to play with fire, you know?”

“because you'll be the next Joseon King and nobody can disagree with you, isn't that it?” you guessed, turning a page on your parchment, pretending to be interested in it when you were most certainly not. all of your five senses were focused on jungwon: on how close he was, on his warm and minty breath close to your ear, his legs nearly touching yours, his dimples looking so soft you wanted to touch it.

the worst part of meeting him wasn't even the 3-hour-lecture you were forced to hear after in the high-pitched voice that your mother had when possessed, but the way you lost all of your self control near him. the environment also didn't help. birds chirping, acacia leaves falling occasionally from the trees, sun rays reflecting on his skin as they were put there especially for jungwon.

“exactly! see, that's why you're nice to talk to, you comprehend— wait, did you hear that?” he shifted in his place, now suddenly looking behind you, eyes widening.

yes, you had heard it. noises, voices, screams that were closer each time. your heart beat faster, loud thuds in your ear.

“young master Yang, are you here? young master Yang!”

you turned to face him quickly, your head suddenly dizzy. standing up, you grabbed his long, muscular hands and rushed towards the other direction, entering the sea of trees you had in front of you. his fingers were sweaty against yours, and you were able to hear his uneven breathing behind you. from between the light tree trunks, a group of purple-dressed maid servants arrived on the place you'd just been, some of them panted from the jogging, while some were so mad they nearly let smoke out of their heads. they served jungwon’s family. they were after him, not you.

“you have to get out of here. go that way, i’ll distract them” you squeezed his hands, pointing discreetly to the direction he should follow. he looked at you, his pupils small from fear, and nodded silently. the panic was mutual, and even if you didn't like to agree with him, both of you were in danger now, finding out what could happen if you didn't react isn't something you're psyched about.

the occasions where jungwon's relaxed, easy going demeanor changed to a serious, clumsy one, were rare, and they left you wondering how that man would one day be the one to sit at the royal golden throne.

you watched him as he disappeared in the woods, his broad shoulders soon nowhere to be seen. however, the women didn't seem to intend to leave, and after some analysis, you noticed they had your book. they couldn't bring that to the Yang's Palace, or you'd be seriously in trouble.

“oh, hi! it’s a pleasure to encounter you on this alluring afternoon,” you muttered with practiced politeness, offering them an awkwardly-wide smile. the maids seemed not pleased at all to see you, some of them furrowing their eyebrows at you and some, worse, refusing to bow. “you have, um, my parchments, so if i could, by chance, get them back it'd be.. lovely”

you forced yourself to smile so much your cheeks hurt, fake honey dripping from your voice. the shortest maid — which you assumed to be the chief servant — shifted, analysing your books in what felt like an eternity, and finally handed them to you, the contempt in which she looked at you leaving your stomach in knots.

“i’m assuming you weren't at all with our young master, am i right?” she hissed, enunciating her words just enough to tell you she knew.

“y-yes, correct. haven't seen him in several weeks, actually”

some other woman chuckled mockingly, the undivided attention leaving you overwhelmed, a tone of red appearing on your neck. ‘they don't have evidence,’ was what you reassured yourself, despite your awareness that King Yang believed in whatever their maids said. he was known to be a very diligent man, but if there was something you admired in him was the trust he had in people. you could never.

“i guess i'll have to leave, unfortunately. if you hadn't come unannounced i would have invited you to a tea, but we didn't prepare anything whatsoever. au revoir!” you excused yourself, rushingly leaving the lake area and sprinting towards Deoksugung.

they looked at you amused. first, youth was truly lost, where was your respect at when you lied blatantly? second, how could you dare to speak french? your ancestors would be turning on their graves if they heard this.

evenings at the Palace were always monotonous. eunuchs didn't walk as much, royal chefs prepared simpler dishes, servants didn't had so many errands to run.

right now, you were curled up on the floor, a novel — that you shouldn't be reading because ‘ladies should be occupying their heads with something other than romance crap’ — in your hands as you tried to focus solely on those vertical words that no longer made sense.

you were fantasizing again about jungwon's hand in yours, his starry eyes looking in yours, the way he trusted you fully and whether he may or may not have gotten scolded way back home. or if he even arrived home in the first place, when a servant knocked on your door, maid Kwon right next to him.

“there’s an unidentified letter for you, young lady Jeong. i insisted that we shouldn't deliver it, but the eunuch told me to just be by your side as you read it.”

you nodded, fixing your wrinkled skirt and tossing the novel to the side, not even bothering to hide your ‘wrongful’ act. the servant bowed and left, leaving you alone with the friend that had been with you since you remember — perhaps she was the person you liked the most inside the Palace, although lady Cho would be deeply upset to hear that.

you unfolded the thin paper carefully, your heart beating faster than before since you recognized the handwriting immediately.

the same that sent you tiny notes telling about his new punishment or how his father let him do an important royal duty.

jungwon's.

Bo-Ah sat by your side, her blue and white hanbok resting next to your own dress, a suspicious grin adorning her features.

you tried to hide the letter from her, but there was no way she would let you escape this one. not when she understood who sent you that.

“Dear young lady Jeong,

i’m writing to you to express my gratitude for what you did today. can you believe that my mother didn't even question me about where i was? told you she's starting to trust me more!

also, on my way home, i think i found our new encounter spot.

if you'd like to accompany me, i’ll be going there tomorrow at 4.

meet me by the water well behind Deoksugung. see you there,

from the very handsome next King of Joseon.”

the next hours resumed in maid Kwon telling you that it was a terrible idea for you to go, your mind working nonstop to finding ways of leaving the castle in an hour you shouldn't — 4pm was exactly when you had to take a bath, and the last time this routine was delayed was your birthday, because you had a celebration going on — and on your loyal friend, lady Cho, your father's youngest concubine, managing to persuade the royal guards to let both of you out for a stroll around the Palace.

what they didn't know, of course, was that the stroll in question involved you meeting the Yang Jungwon.

the area behind Deoksugung was one of the prettiest, yet it was dangerous.

many hunters had been found mysteriously dead over the years, maybe because the Yang's also had access there.

but you preferred not to think about it, since you were currently entering that same territory to, ironically, hang out with the rivals’ heir.

“when do you want me to return so we can come back together again?” Miyeon gently asked as if she tried recalling it, your arms locked as you jogged around birds and squirrels.

you faced the light-blue sky for a minute, questioning yourself once more, “around 6 would be nice, right before sunset.”

the concubine nodded, her braided-full-of-ornaments hair graciously shifting in the wind. you didn't speak much, the sound of green leaves being stepped on the only thing you could hear.

however, that was until you saw jungwon at the well.

he politely made a reference to lady Cho, who excused herself with a beautiful-educated smile, and walked towards you, a playful grin resting on his face.

“you’re about 3 minutes late. you're well aware that the future King doesn't like to wait, aren't you?” you rolled your eyes, approaching him and walking side by side to his tall figure.

“save it for your servants, jungwon.”

“i beg your pardon?” he nearly choked, raising his tone of voice. you chuckled at the flabbergasted expression he turned to you, an offended sound leaving his throat. “when did i allow you to be this casual, y/n?”

you gasped, dumbfounded, “woah! i'm older than you, okay, jungwon? and since when have you known my birth name?”

“why? shouldn't i?” his hand found the small of your back, by which he guided you through the trees. you felt a shiver running through your spine, but tried to shake it off, muttering nonsense to him as a response.

you kept silent the rest of the way, his long fingers caressing the jeogori of your dress as a reminder that he was still there, steps in sync with yours. somewhere in between it, you raised your eyes to his neck, spot in which you noticed a deep bruise, the dark purple mark idling his skin. perhaps it had always been there or he could have fell on his way back.

“shut your eyes, y/n” he whispered, lips close to your ear, and you willingly did it, fluttering your eyelids close, not before nagging again about why you can say his name and he can't say yours.

jungwon brought another hand to your shoulders, keeping you steady as you walked towards what you assumed to be the aforementioned ‘new encounter spot’.

after a few steps, his feet seemed to settle, and with another whisper in your ear, “we’re here”, you got to open your eyes.

if his firm hands weren't still glued to your body, keeping you standing, you were sure you would have fallen.

it was, by far, the prettiest thing you've seen yet.

a mesmerizing, kilometers long field of daisies of all colors and peonies stood by you. the vast camp of flowers mixed with the grass as the sun lit nature up, clouds adding up to the view with its calm and slow movements.

jungwon tilted his head to look at you, and you closed your dropped jaw, gulping some saliva, “what, do you not like it?”

“no! i mean, yes.. no!” you stuttered, blinking up at him, “it’s perfect, really. how did you find it?”

“well, during my way back to the Castle, i may have gotten lost, and ended up here.” he explained, dimples showing up on his face as he smiled, satisfied. “shall we?”

he offered his hand to you, which, for some reason, you accepted, holding his palm in yours as you ran like kids towards the field, grass getting stuck on the hem of your dress in a so not discreet way. you giggled and yelled at the world, not caring about appearance, and for a second, it felt like you had conquered the world. conquered happiness. you soon got tired, and both of you threw yourselves on the flowers, crushing the petals with your weight, leaving evidence that you were there, for real.

it wasn't a dream, after all.

but here, sat up next to him, laughing out loud about something neither could figure out what, it sure felt like imagination.

“this is, like, my first time seeing a lady with not-braided hair.” he mused, pointing a finger to you, “you’re such a gross princess, Jeong y/n”

you ran a finger through your hair, noticing the disheveled state it was in. it was also your first time having unbraided hair in front of anyone besides your maids and mother. you should have been embarrassed, but you weren't, because feeling natural with jungwon looked so simple. so right. “oh my buddha— look at yourself first, your goreum is literally untied.”

he tilted his head slightly to look at you, the bruise now more visible, your gaze flying to it unconciously. “paying that much attention?” he teased, words light, but didn't move an inch. maybe he was too comfortable to tie it, which was alarming, or perhaps he just didn't care at all.

you rolled your eyes, insects and flies flying over you, making low buzzes that only added to the environment, “i’m already getting under your skin, huh, your royal highness?”

“yeah, you're one of my few pet peeves” he pouted, nodding, visibly content with the name you'd just called him by, looking like he would give you a compliment or something, ‘respecting your Majesty is a very noble act, young lady’

hours passed by, and shortly the sun was setting, its borders fading on the horizon as the sky marvelously adapted to a mix of orange and pink. both of you lay down on the grass, staring into the clouds, in silence for once, enjoying the world pretending there was no violence, no rivalry, no danger.

just the two of you.

Miyeon was briefly back to get you, and you couldn't ignore the eyebrow she raised catching both of you so close, admiring the universe with such calmness of who had years to do so. you gave a last glance at jungwon, who playfully grinned and whispered, barely loud enough for you to comprehend, “see you here again the day after tomorrow, same time?”

you stared at him for a while, but then nodded, a shy “two in the afternoon is better” leaving your throat. after the small change, you ran away with such embarrassment of who had just made a confession.

“no, look, i swear his jeogori undid naturally” you explained to lady Cho, voice strained, defensive, “what? no! i wouldn't sleep with a Yang, for the sake of the queen—”

two days later, you found yourself walking through the same woods, destined to the very same place.

today, you were accompanied by lady Im, who insisted she had to deal with some stuff downtown, though given the way her lips curled into a smirk often, you highly doubted it. she was your uncle's favorite concubine, but was also known for escaping the Castle on multiple occasions. for multiple different reasons.

well, Nayeon had to run some errands, and you wished to meet a person you surely shouldn't, it was a win-win situation, right?

“am i late?” you asked in reaction to his confused face, scanning you a few times, his hair already messy from the field and a small spider climbing his shoulders. you wouldn't tell him about it, though.

around the spot the spider climbed, you were able to have a peek of the soft skin below the thick fabric, and, for some reason, another deep bruise could be seen, this one already yellowish, a recent-looking scar next to it. it was probably nonse, and you should really stop looking, otherwise he'd ask you with that smug smirk why you were staring that much.

“not at all, just— what is that?”

“that what? oh,” you raised the basket you were holding up for him to observe, proudly smiling, “my royal chefs cooked some hodu-gwaja this morning, and as it's a speciality of Deoksugung, i thought i should offer you this one-in-a-lifetime experience”

“love the humbleness” he teased, although he made a sign for you to sit down, and when you did, the dark-haired boy rushed to the snacks you brought, picking up one and handing you another, “i’ve always wanted to taste these. they're pretty famous there, eunuch Park talks about gwajas all the time.”

your eyebrows raised. you were genuinely content with having done something for him, something he'd like. you watched him as he took the first bite, his cat eyes lighting up and dimples making presence on both sides.

“how is it? perfectly amazing?”

“i don't like to admit,” he took another bite, the walnut cream getting stained on his cheeks, “but, seriously, this is so delicious.”

you giggled, playfully punching the air in victory, and also dug in, breaking the walnut’s shell in two with your teeth, “it’s dirty, look, over here”

jungwon put his fingers on the apple of his face, trying to clean up his pale skin, except it was the wrong cheek.

you chuckled at him, nearly choking on your sweet, “no, the left cheek. how will you be the next leader of your reign if you can't even—?”

it would've been fine, but you decided to clean it up for him, your smooth skin rubbing his face softly as the creamy stains falling on the grass. his breath visibly hitched, a weird-kind of hiccup leaving his parted lips when your fingers lingered longer than they were supposed to. your eyes widened too, and you retrained your hand immediately, trying hard to laugh it off, “shy, huh?”

he awkwardly laughed too, though it was audibly forced, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

even if both of you didn't acknowledge it, for the rest of the afternoon, the tip of his ears continued pink and you talked way less, focused on fixing an ornament that stuck wrongly.

weeks had passed, and Hansik had just happened. you were supposed to be happy, because you enjoyed that spring festival more than anything, and moreover, the man your family wanted you to marry would be presented to you that very day.

you wanted him to be handsome, laid-back, easy to talk to, tall but not too much, the pointed black hat fitting his head perfectly, purple durumagi covering his broad shoulder in an unfairly good way, dimples so adorable and cheeks so soft you want to poke it.

perhaps, you wished for Jungwon. or an exact copy of him that you could marry without getting disinherited.

but you were too afraid of letting yourself acknowledge that, since wanting someone you can't have is something you don't want to be trapped into.

the real man wasn't like that whatsoever.

his figure almost matched your height, he was probably twice your age, his face full of wrinkles and a mustache so old-fashioned you swore you'd seen it on an old portrait of some late King.

if it already weren't the worst it could've been, he was extremely rude, and impolite, and didn't treat you like a person at all. you already knew that was your position on society ‘naturally’, however, marrying that man would mean you wouldn't have the opportunity to be heard. to be seen. to be yourself.

and to think that your own father wanted you to marry that, that your own mother was okay with it and even tried extra hard to please that.

you felt nauseous. wished you could punch that and leave a mark of blood on the smirk that had on its face. wished you could just run away.

perhaps that was why you sent jungwon a crumpled letter in the middle of the night, a mere “meet me there in an hour?” written, your rushed handwriting and the way your hands shaked noticeable even if few words were there.

you got off mid-night, earning pointed looks from guards, but you just couldn't bear to stay there anymore.

not when everyone around seemed a traitor, nor when lady Cho — who you trusted deeply — tried to convince you this was for the best.

walking towards the recently well-known woods, admiring how amazingly the moon lit everything up, you tried to reassure yourself that it was fine, because if that great bright light was still shining for you, the only reason was that there was hope, somewhere buried deep inside you.

when you arrived at the field, breathless from walking, jungwon was already there.

you broke down. completely.

your legs moved faster than your brain, the leather pastel-green shoes crushing daisies on their way, leading you to the only place you felt safe.

jungwon.

your heart pounded violently against your ribs, fluttering loud enough for someone to hear it. your lips parted slightly, maybe to say something, maybe just to breathe. your tongue felt too heavy. your mouth too unsure. so you just throw yourself in his embrace, hiding your vulnerable self into him, tears finally brimming down on your face. wrapping your arms around his neck, you touched it firmly, and with the tip of your fingers, you felt a thick scar, not even close to being cicatrized.

his face furrowed a little, mouth closing to a thin line, but he didn't say anything. just held you closer, wrapping an arm on your waist, keeping you grounded, otherwise you weren't sure you would keep standing. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, chest tightening after seeing your usual confident self in such a broken state. he had no idea what could've happened, but tapped your back lightly either way, comforting you. reassuring you. “y/n, breathe in three with me, yeah?”

your broken sobs soaked his shoulder, a damp of tears wetting his beautiful durumagi, and you forced yourself to look at him, a new knot in your throat threatening to release. slowly, you nodded, breathing in a large amount of air that almost got stuck in your glottis, however, he encouraged you, eyes focused on your face.

“that’s it. good. breathe out now, follow me.” his hand softly stroked your column, so gentle you wanted to cry further. with a frown of concentration in his face, accompanying the movements of your throat, following your gaze and staring directly into your eyes, you noticed what you shouldn't. jungwon was the one to look at you like a person.

not as a trophy wife or an heir generator.

but as you, Jeong y/n, the stubborn person that couldn't tie laces nor cook a simple bowl of rice. that preferred to read romance over politics and secretly wanted to wear pants just once since it looked like it felt nice.

jungwon seemed to comprehend all of that, and in a sudden move, you caught yourself telling him about everything. more than you should.

“and the man, he was—” hiccup, “not even nearly as handsome as you, and—” hiccup, “he called me ‘future housewife’ every single time he wanted to refer to me,” hiccup, “i can't— can't remember his name. my good almighty, he makes me nauseous. he's the worst person ever, he's—”

he just nodded through it, making questions midway to tell you he was listening, engaged. “and can't you tell your mother about it?”

you sadly chuckled, another single tear falling down your cheek, “tell her what? that i loathe the man she sweet-talked to all evening?”

“this whole situation is ridiculous. i don't understand why they'd want to do this with such a.. special girl like you.” he murmured, admitting something more to himself than to you, accepting a fact he never did before.

you mattered. if he was this mad right now, it's because you matter.

“no, it's— i shouldn't be this sensible, all my ancestors went through the same. my mother, my grandmother, my great grandmother. everyone” you played with your hanbok’s sleeve, facing downwards, sniffing occasionally after some words.

“that’s what i can't understand. why'd they want to do the same to you? have they been happy?” his voice broke just slightly, anger breaking through his vocal cords, fists clenched. “hey, look at me.” jungwon cupped your chin gently, tilting it up, forcing you to stare directly at him.

the emotions crumbled back at you again, since he was right. halmoni always complained about having to abandon her one genuine love and omma insisted that it ended up being nice, though only because she conceived you. why would they want to make you go through the same thing?

perhaps the lines had started to fade, or you were too tired, but you melted into his touch, eyelids heavy, whispering: “can we spend the night here? i don't want to go back to the Palace.”

he observed you for a minute, paying attention to your features, apparently making a decision, before nodding, expression calm. his forehead relaxed, a small smile curling on the corner of his mouth. with a smooth movement, he took the upper part of his lilac jeogori off, — what left your eyes agape for a split second — laying the coat down on the grass so you could sleep comfortably. he tapped the area with his hand, indicating that he wanted you laid down, and you willingly did it, the tension of the day starting to fade away.

jungwon settled himself by your side, some centimeters of distance between you, still touching legs.

yet, he seemed so far away.

you wanted him closer. and closer.

you were starting to lull when he spoke up again, voice quieter, careful. “may i suggest something? perhaps we could like.. run away, get married, live content together. just the two of us.”

you short-circuited. your almost calm head now full of thoughts, possibilities, doubts, and deep down, a futile sting of hope.

marriage. marrying jungwon. you were aware of those stupid promises, things Young Masters promised to trap Ladies, things they never stuck on. however, he seemed so genuine. so trustworthy.

were you this stupid?

it wasn't a prudent decision, you were sure of it, but the offer seemed so tempting, so right. and jungwon was the only person out there you knew that could make you happier, wasn't he?

in seconds, you found yourself thinking about it. actually pondering it.

“where would we.. go to?” you naively asked, eyes meeting his in a gaze that brought you a million sparks, his pupils a dark tone of brown, slightly dilated.

“there’s this reign that will be inherited by my colleague, Jaeyun, Young Master Sim. it's quite far and he's a nice person. i think.. we could go there.”

you hummed softly, taking into account everything you'd risk. everything you'd lose. but also everything you'd win.

it was foolish, however, before your mind really processed it, you found yourself nodding, “okay.”, he smiled gently, tilting his head to ask — silently, like a confession — if you had thought long enough about it. if you were right about this. — instead of questioning it more, also because you were afraid of what you would've found, you agreed again. “when?”

he stared at the sky above you, the stars, the moon and how it lit you perfectly. how it lets you be even more gorgeous than what you already were. “tomorrow night?”

“right. yes.. that'd be awesome.” you awkwardly said, terrified of the consequences, but hoping that it'd let you finally be free, happy. that it'd prevent you from being trapped forever. that you'd spent the rest of your life with the boy you gave — secretly, under covers — your whole youth.

jungwon eyed you with a determined, firm expression and with a sweet whisper, he wished you goodnight, breath fanning on your skin, long lashes shutting down beautifully.

everything crumbled down on you again, your certainty nearly disappearing the more you thought about it, the evenings writing with maid Kwon or running through the Palace earning new meanings. because maybe it was the last time you'd lived those things. because you'd run away from it to protect yourself. to protect who you were.

the night passed in a blur, insects' sounds on the background fading to let you finally rest, even if it was the last peaceful night you'd had.

the first thing you noticed when you woke up was warmth, then, jungwon's body, and only a few moments later you noticed the position you were in.

curled up against him, head buried on his neck, arms gripping his sides as if you were afraid he'd let go. he laid flatly on his back, an arm draped over your figure, tracing absent-mindedly patterns on your skin, caressing it smoothly, announcing that he was awake and chose not to move.

your breath hitched, the rhythm in which you inhaled earlier faltering. you had no clue about how you ended up like this, but it felt good. warmer, safer, softer. slowly, you opened your eyes, the light infiltrating your orbes intensely. when you sighed, he turned all his attention to you, lips hovering just above yours, breath hitting your cheeks constantly.

“ ‘morning, sleepy head”

“what? i didn't sleep that much, did i?” you asked, tilting your head, your faces lining themselves up immediately.

you could kiss like this.

“the sun tells me it's past 11 in the morning, got anything to say?” the air that left his mouth traveled to you, and as if gravity was pulling you, you leaned in further, noses almost touching

“yeah, that you're a very comfortable pillow” you smugly grinned, rubbing your eyes to adjust to the clarity. when you opened your eyelids back, he was closer. leaning in just slightly, giving you a peek of how nice it felt to have him this near.

you didn't back away. didn't flinch. and when his hands held you tighter, bringing you impossibly closer to him?

reaching out to press your lips together felt natural, right, simple.

the touch was exquisite, a surprised gasp leaving his throat and going down yours. both of you remained still, adapting into the new territory. some time later, his free hand moved to cup your cheek, barely there, but pressing slightly when he tilted his head to kiss you deeper.

this time the kiss is slower, softer — his mouth opening against yours with such yearning, you nearly forget where you are and why you were there. his lips trail down to your jaw gently, then back up, brushing agonizingly slow before capturing your bottom lip again with a sigh. you turned your head to give his tongue more access and—

you weren't sure who backed away first, but soon your bodies were distant, both embarrassingly panting, his coat under you moving so much you assumed it could feel the tension.

you kept there, staring at each other for what felt like a minute, and you hurriedly sat up, a flush of soft red creeping up on your neck to the tip of your ears. “see you at the same time as always.. correct? um, bye.”

your legs involuntarily stood up, and in a rush, you ran — tripping and stumbling occasionally — in the direction of the Palace.

jungwon remained there, layed down, fingertip trailing his lips with disbelief, the memory of your lips touching his so vivid he swore to himself he'd never forget it. the first encounter of your lives in such a delicate, deliberate way.

Deoksugung was tidy as always, warm toned walls high and empowered, leaving the impression of a well-known strength you were tired of. the faint coat of arms, the one you remembered by heart, stamping its large gates, inviting you to face its insides one more time. your muscles forced you to continue walking, though your brain was already giving red-signs since you began to see the family royal guards.

yet, here you were again. chin held up, conveying a strand of confidence you didn't have whatsoever. or at least trying. because you were way smaller than the Palace, way weaker than the guards, feared way more than the maids who run through it all the time.

it didn't welcome you so well, either. knowing gazes accompanying you wherever you went, the main hall greeting you with its haughtiness. due to the hour, you assumed your grandma would be busy, thus you followed straight to your room, earning some poorly done bows in the way. already in there, you rushed to pack essential things: three full sets of hanboks, a parchment paper and a pen, emerald ornaments for your hair, some snacks that royal chefs delivered earlier and you didn't properly receive — since you weren't there, of course — and few other whatnots.

it felt weird. unfamiliar. strange.

perhaps the effect shouldn't be so immediate on you, but it didn't look like the place you should call ‘my house’ anymore.

suddenly, your bedroom didn't seem like yours anymore. the roof nearly suffocated you, the room spinning and leaving you dizzy, the memory of why you were doing that back to the center of your brain.

your freedom taken away, the image of the man you were supposed to marry haunting you again. the corner of your eyes burned, a knot forming on your throat and threatening to snap at any moment.

and when the tears formed, watering your eyes, you remembered about jungwon.

the warmth he brought to you, his irises entirely drowning in the dark of his pupils. his voice, that always flew to you like music, so kind it incinerated your heart. his face, that lightened up slightly and was stupidly good-looking even when he told you that you should do something as foolish as run away, or when it was flushed from touching his lips with yours. his touch, gentle and featherlight, leaving your skin burning wherever it made contact with.

you felt the urge to go back to him as soon as possible, escaping for once and forever the place you lived your whole life swearing it was your home even when it didn't feel like it.

therefore, with your heart in your hands and a faux confident facade, you willingly left by the main gates for what should be the last time, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone — mainly due to the great fear you had of getting caught, but it didn't really matter. because regardless, that life wasn't yours anymore.

may we be finally free, right?

sprinting towards the stone well behind Deoksugung and consequently the flower field you'd left only some hours ago, you tried to shake your thoughts off, concentrating on what was beyond your view this instant. what you couldn't see just yet.

you sat down and admired the peonies, sniffing in some of them and letting their scent invade your nostrils until it made you confused, head with a growing ache. looking up at the marvelously lit sky, you couldn't help but noticing that jungwon was meant to be there by this time, but possibly, he could be late, or you could be early, there was no way to be sure unless you'd return to the castle, what you'd rather not do.

as the sun moved to the west a bit more, you sat down on the grass, opening your woven purse and carefully choosing a sweet to eat — after debating, you ended up with the dasik, a charming and colorful cookie that you were supposed to have with tea, such drink you didn't have. you chewed it with impressive disgust, noticing for the first time why those were meant to be consumed with something else.

somewhere between eating dasiks and checking the few stuff inside your bag, panic started to flood into your senses, though you couldn't precisely pinpoint when.

there was a reason for him to not have arrived yet, correct? you shouldn't be having a breakdown, you knew it.

but that boy was the one to be annoyingly punctual. to never not show up. and even if he had something going on and couldn't be there, he'd always warn you. have a way to contact you.

he always knew exactly what you'd do next. where you'd be.

and that's why, like a dumb person in love, you decided to stay, wait for him. every single noise earned a double check, every bird chipping was intensely looked at. there, lay down now on your back, you closed your eyes and counted many times from zero to a hundred.

46, 47, 48, 49..

you opened your eyes, the urge to release tears already there, your back sore from the position. he wasn't there yet.

63, 64, 65, 66..

the hard floor left you wondering how you managed to sleep there, and you missed jungwon a little more, because his heat made these things possible. he wasn't there yet.

89, 90, 91, 92..

the bugs annoyed you a lot, and you promised they were solely the reason why you lost yourself in your count and had to return to 90 once again. and yes, he wasn't there yet.

somewhere in between that process, when the stunning moon was starting to rise, a specially quiet, but loud enough for you to hear sound caught your attention. lifting your head and sharpening your senses, a tall, slim shadow began to appear in your view.

you blinked up multiple times, confused, and when you mustered up all the courage left on you to look up at his face, it shouldn't have, but your heart stung.

it was jungwon.

just a paler, weaker, visibly sick jungwon.

a new bruise appeared right below his eyes, one that looked, if that was even possible, deeper and more serious than the other ones. alongside it, a scar marked the side of his nose, the cut looking profound even from a distance.

you stood up so fast it took seconds to your vision to normalize, and ran towards his figure like a crazy person. your dress spinned and its wrinkled form no longer mattered to you.

“oh, y/n..” he smiled, a grin that didn't reach his eyes but was enough to make his dimples show. his features showed a sign of relief and disbelief altogether, like he couldn't believe you were there. you kept waiting.

“jungwon! my goodness gracious! where have you been? i mean.. are you doing okay?” your hands held his shoulders, and when he made a face of pain, like he would scream loud and hoarse, you moved away from him, eyes widening.

“i’m fine, really. and i'm sorry i kept you waiting.. it's just..” he shook his head, desperate for something to say, and showed you a festive-looking jar, holding it on the direction of your face. “i have.. something for you”

you stared at the pot, and if his voice wasn't lower, hoarser than before, you would’ve fought against that idea. however, soon your fingers reached its lid and you freed what seemed like hundreds of fireflies.

they danced around you, rising on the horizon and lighting up the flowers, making them more beautiful than what they already were. the insects flew gracefully as they were dancing, so in sync it left you wordless, mesmerized. amusement swimmed to your eyes, and with a gasp, you turned your body to face them completely, having the illusion of peace for a minute. exquisite flies also started to join in, the soft buzzing filling your ears, making you leave out a genuine smile.

jungwon kept his eyes on you the whole time. and with a soft sigh, he whispered, confessed: “we’ll never be seeing each other again.”

at first, you didn't react. the words lacking the impact they should have. when it finally made sense to you, you blinked up at him, tilting your head, questioning if you'd heard it correctly.

“what? why? what.. what do you want to say with that? what about getting married, and your friend—”

he cuts you out, voice barely there, “it’s.. i’m sorry. i shouldn't have promised you what i knew i couldn't guarantee.”

you broke. spinning your body to face him again, the fireflies’ light leaving him so beautiful it was a sin, you tried to understand it. comprehend what was happening. but you couldn't.

as if reading your thoughts, he dropped his head, tone laced with guilt, “my mother, she.. she has always known, you know.”

you didn't move. you refused to. your mind didn't get it yet.

“she discovered us when we were little, and according to her, we are getting closer now. she was here when we.. planned all that.” despite the pain, he kept steady, feet firm on the land so he was sure he wouldn't fall on his knees to apologize. to supplicate for your forgiveness.

even if he didn't deserve it.

“and can't we just go? now? you're here now, aren't you?” you tried to reach out for his hands, but he backed away, and you bit your bottom lip in desperation, in disbelief.

you had to keep breathing, but it was almost impossible. your rib cage hurt, and for a split second, maybe you were hiper ventilating

he sadly chuckled, “no.. we can't. they're going to come after you if i'm not the one to go.”

“but—”

“no buts. i'll be moving away, far away. and, if you stumble upon my grief, to protect you, i endure.”

your chest burned. and you shook your head in denial continuously, eyes begging for him to give a second thought. the silent that stretched later was agonizing, and you only break eye contact when he dropped a silent tear, one that said more than what a thousand words could say.

“this is not fair, jungwon—” your voice broke, but you resumed, “you didn't even give me a choice to choose for myself. how could you think about leaving like that and then i’ll continue here, alone? is this because you couldn't bear to live without even having a clue of where or how i’ll be?”

he didn't deny, but didn't use his voice either, his pupils getting redder, the margins filling with water

“i don't even know if you'll be alive, jungwon, please.” your tone was coated in something deeper than sadness, and if he wasn't already being harsh enough in himself, he would've given in to you. he inhaled deeply after your words in an act that left you worried sick, and instead of running away like a coward, in a move of a self-control he wasn't sure he had yet, he touched your wrist gently, stepping closer, heart fluttering inside his body, and put a silver delicate bracelet on your fist, the cold metal a contrast to his burning hot skin. “we'll meet again. it's a promise.”

you looked into his eyes, really looked at him, and there, while he walked further from you, you saw just a terrified, pathetically in love boy.

the last thing you said to him, while stupidly playing with the bracelet in your arm, “those bruises.. they were because of this, weren't they?”

he stopped for a second, and continued, back turned to you.

he let you there, alone, emotions surrounding you and leaving you in a dark solitude. the world around you crumbled, and amidst it all, there was jungwon.

the boy who taught you different languages and fulfilled your life even for a small period of time.

you never spoke to him again.

you never saw him again.

and nobody mentioned him again either, the Yang's now continuing their lives like jungwon never existed.

it was like he had disappeared completely.

Busan Train Station, 2025

the long trip was finally over, and even if the gaze of that stranger seemed comfortable enough for you to want to live in it, you forced your feet to stand up, the heavy luggage swinging in your hand.

you gave him a last good look, remarking his dimples, his soft skin and how he stared at you.

you didn't remember about being stared at like that before.

or maybe you did? the feelings were weird, conflicting.

you loud steps echoed through the wagon, and when you were about to leave it, a warm hand found your wrist, touching right above your silver bracelet. the one you remembered having since forever.

his touch sent shivers down your spine, the contact so different but familiar, like you'd done this previously.

but you were sure you never saw him before.

“hey, um, i think you dropped these”

💭 ik this took me years to be ready but i have my excuses, college has been eating me up (sacrifice reference) & finals are just around the corner. truly not the best time to be a student at an england uni 😭

taglist: @nuggets4lifers @won1yoiz @meowwwon @lavendersloane

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stagefoureddiediaz · 1 day ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/stagefoureddiediaz/782760653117063168?source=share

What could the check pattern mean? 👀👀

(Also I swear if they end up cutting this scene 😐😐😐)

Hey Dru!!!

I’m truly fascinated by this shirt choice for Eddie for a scene with Hen! I’ve been expecting and waiting for an Eddie and hen conversation the entire season - since the plane disaster - and I’m finally finally getting my wish and it’s accompanied with a intriguing costume choice and in an episode that plays heavily into the juice theme surrounding Eddie this season!

Firstly I want to touch on the fact that no watch is visible - I think I can see the outline of it on his wrist, but it isn’t visible. Then there is also the black Henley - something we see Eddie wearing several times across the seasons - nearly always in scenes connected to eddies family in some way - and we have a clear split in when he wears a black Henley - we see him in one in 215, 217 and 218 and then we don’t see him wear one again until 605, followed by 609, 614 and 701. The 701 one is the most interesting one as it’s the scenes connected to Chris and his multiple girlfriends and his talk with Buck and the. Later when Eddie gives him the letter from Shannon. It’s a series of scenes that really highlights the place of Buck in the Diaz family, and the co-parentsl role Eddie is putting Buck in - is trusting Buck in. So I do think we’ll see some element of this hen-Eddie scene be about family - and most likely about Christopher and his return to LA (or even if he has returned to LA as we don’t know how it’s all going to play out at this point) but the scene will definitely feature some element of conversation about Chris.

So back to the shirt Eddie is wearing - it is in his typical style - for the most part - we have breast pockets that are incredibly similar to the ones we’ve seen on other shirts he wears - shirts I would bill as his LA shirts or style, but the rest of the cut of the shirt is a mixture of Eddies LA and Texas styles - mostly his Texas style. The check is in keeping with his Texas look, so I’m not sure at this point if it’s going to be Eddie still in LA post funeral - before he leaves to return home to El Paso, or if it is Eddie newly returned to LA and the style is a hangover from him being in Texas - in a similar way to how we saw eddies style change over season 2 - moving away from El Paso style - less and less denim and a change in fit and less check and actually a more narrow colour palette!

My feeling at this moment is that it’s a scene shortly after Eddie has fully returned to LA - in part because of his hair and how happy and relaxed he looks in the still, and the fact that we have no reason to think that Eddie did more than fly in for the funeral before returning to El Paso (something I’m sure Tim will magically be expecting us to know even though it will have happened off screen!), but it it truly could be either option because a conversation with Hen in either context is going to work and is going to be important.

One of the reasons I’m so on the fence about it is the fact that it’s a pink shirt - and pink has been very intentionally been connected to eddies search for himself and for joy - his own joy - that is not connected to or about Christopher (directly). As you can see it’s a much more of a ‘dirty’ pink - a pink with brownish undertones - still in the same zone as the other pale pinks we’ve seen him in previously and in the same zone as bucks own forray into pale pink - with his cardigan.

It’s worth pointing out at this moment that all of the above uses of that pale pinks can be read as queer coded to a fairly big degree, and all three scenes are very buddie heavy as well - in different ways - showingn and highlighting different aspects of their relationship and its strength.

Now to me the check aspect of it is suggesting that this conversation is more than likely go somewhere Eddie isn’t either ‘ready for’ or isn’t going to like having pointed out to him - which for me is screaming that it’s about the Buck of it all because there isn’t a lot else it could be about and as I’ve just shown/ explained the use of the pale pink we’ve seen in the show in connection with Eddie and Buck is very buddie, especially buddie relationship coded. So the check is seemingly going to be about Eddie having his worldview changed in some way - because the check always means danger of some sort for the character - but danger isn’t always bad and invariably the person in check (especially when it’s a main) is having their plot moved forward in some way and the danger they face is the way that movement happens. My working theory is that the Eddie hen conversation will be connected to Bobbys ‘death’ and will come around to Buck in some way.

Then there is one last aspect to this new pink Eddie shirt - that is Buck unpacking his things in the Diaz house - finally moving himself in and letting himself accept his new reality. The shirt Buck is wearing is slightly more in the brown side of things than eddies new shirt - but it has very pink undertones and they are the same tonal shades. So we have a scene where Buck allows himself to accept and actually begin to exist in a space that he has struggled with because of its connection to Eddie, Chris, and all that Buck has ‘lost’ - a space that he’s never been a guest in because it’s Eddies house - a space that is still tied to Eddie because it’s eddies lease and Buck is subletting. Coming off the back of two scenes with two people pointing out the Eddie of it all and actively questioning bucks feelings - where eddies straightness is also brought up in both scenes. It’s very definitely an intentional costuming colour choice and it’s making me think that perhaps the reference to Buck that we might be getting is going to be about the roommates era we seem likely to be about to get - maybe hen questioning Eddie about his living arrangements if Buck is in eddies house - if Buck has found a new place now Eddie is back or something in that wheelhouse - about the idea of that connection and about existing in a space and of that space being a safe space.

This is of course all speculation on my part based on the colours and the way the show has previously used colour and even check patterning on Eddie or around Eddie - we’ll find out how close I was to the mark when the episode airs, but it isn’t a common colour and it’s not one the show has used much and the fact we’ve got so much of it in the last couple of seasons and in connection with one characters arc specifically is making me feel a certain level of confidence in my predictions - i really do hope I’m right!

#Kym answers things #dru asks #911 spoilers #911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #mini meta based on a still #costume meta #911 on abc #I have high hopes for this scene #911 costumes #911 colour theory

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mix-n-max · 2 days ago

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In honour of nothing and purely because I want to talk about the things that I enjoy:

My no. 1 favourite audio roleplay characters & listeners from various creators & why (ft. My fanart)

1. Redacted Audio

Gotta start with the channel that truly got me into the audio roleplay genre. This channel is like a gateway drug(/j/lh) for a lot of people.

Speaker: Imperium!Vega

Just how different he is from his canonical counter part is so very interesting to me. Especially since the premise of the Imperium is “if just a few things went a little differently”. His growth as a character with & because of Pet also interests me greatly. I also just really enjoy speaker/listener pairings with interesting power dynamics

Listener: Darlin’ (a.k.a Tank)

Tank is a listener with a lot of potential for different and interesting dynamics between speakers, both romantic and otherwise. Their past with the Shaw pack and joining late, the loss of David’s father and the “Quinn-cident” are all things that affect who they are and how they see the world and I appreciate that much character being put to into a role that usually gets left relatively blank to allow more people to put themselves in their place.

3. Auth/Soma ASMR

Another talented creator I found as a direct result of a Redacted collab. He’s so busy tho, hope he’s doing okay out there😔😔/lh

Speaker: Leo

I’m gonna be so real with y’all, this one is purely for… unseemly reasons… DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT-/j/lh He’s a werewolf, he’s a dom, he’s a freak (like that and not like that) And within three videos I’ve been given just enough story to keep me thinking about him… *checks notes* 2 years after he disappeared off the face of the earth/lh/j

Listener: N/A

I wouldn’t say there’s any real stand out listeners for me

4. Atonal ASMR

I love Atonal’s work. Like it’s actually crazy how much I enjoy it. I found them when YouTube looked a me, looked at my watch history and went “I know what you are😒” and now he’s one of my go-tos when I recommend people.

Speaker: Gideon

He was my first Atonal character and I love a polite little guy. I mean look at him!!! He’s so nice! And caring!! And silly!!!!! Genuinely such a calming character & series. There was a period where I would just put his playlist on when I needed to sleep.

Listener: Medusa

You mean WE get to play the cool interesting creature???? With a mystery behind our origins, oh Atonal, how you spoil the audience.

5. ZSaku VA

Man I remember when I first got into Saku (that is a lie, I think it was YouTube recommendations, could have also been from TikTok who knows). God he is so talented I’m genuinely jealous/lh

Speaker: Xanthus

This is another case where he was my first Saku character and I am just really attached. I really like the dynamic he has with his listener and his story interests me greatly. I am not ready for his story to end.

Listener: Pet

A recent standout in the Sakuverse line up but a beloved one for sure! I LOOOOOOOVE unique listeners and Pet is definitely in a league of their own[/derogatory(/j/lh)] This strange creature is thought provoking to say the least. (No one is allowed to say a WORD about how 3 of my all time favourites have something to do with listeners named pet)

6. Escaped Audios

The famous creator of such gems as Sneaky Goblin Ruins everything, Not in Front of Dinner Darling and You “Accidentally” Stomp on Stuart Little, I’m pretty sure I found out about his existence from the various pieces of fanart I saw on the hell site.

Speaker: Basher (Slash & The Basher series)

You can’t give me a weirdo and not expect him to be a favourite! His story is a lot of fun and I really enjoyed the premise. I got a thing for freaky deaky dudes/pos/lh

Listener: Slash (Slash & The Basher series)

It might be because I like the series as a whole so much but Slash is such a fun listener to me, like “yeees serial killer!! Kill those guys!” /j I seriously need to watch the “My True Love is Dead” premiere.

7. Castle Audios

I am so embarrassingly behind on Castle but GOD is her stuff good.

Speaker: Genevieve

I cannot quantify what or why but I love her so much.

Listener: Knight

Same as Evie I’m just so attached to these little guys/gn

8. Mr. Laveau

A friend of mine and an incredibly talented creator, it makes it so hard to just pick one favourite in each category. I remember when their very first episode came out and I fell in love with their world & story telling.

Speaker: Uriah (Bloodmoon series)

She is the moment, the icon and the very first character Veau ever posted I love Uriah so much I feel crazy sometimes y’all don’t even get it. He needs to come home IMMEDIATELY.

Listener: Cher (Bloodmoon series)

Cher is so complex and every time I feel like get a handle on who they are/what they do next I’m bamboozled. Yet another unique listener, oh how I love you.

#audio rp #audio rp characters #youtube #audio drama #audio fiction #redacted audio #good boy audios #auth asmr #atonal asmr #escaped audios #castle audios #mr. laveau #zsakuva #Jesus that’s a lot of names #and a lot of words #what’s worse is I have more words #only a few though

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noiranamnesis · 21 hours ago

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There were small things in life which gave Marinette joy: animals, melodies, Tylio’s hands in her hair, pâtisserie…and hosting. So long as there were ingredients to prepare and conversation to be had, she found herself content. It was in the moments when her English improved most- casual, flowing chats where she could stretch into nuance and pick up regional phrases. And yet, there was always something which managed to trip her up: a turn of phrase, a pun, a cultural idiom. When it happened, she instinctively leaned on the nearest familiar anchor, whether Nadja or Tylio.

As far as guests went, she found Jeremy quite pleasant. Polite. Attentive. He was easy to talk to and not shy about carrying a conversation, which certainly helped. His knowledge of her prior work, particularly her French filmography, caught her a little off guard, but once he touched on his interest in French cinema, it made more sense. She had smiled and asked if he’d ever consider working in France someday. If he was serious, she’d be happy to pass his name along to the right people once she was home again. That led to his next question: Did she plan to stay in Los Angeles long term? Marinette hesitated, then admitted the truth. While she was grateful for her projects in the U.S., ideally she would like to alternate- one project here, one in France. But long term? Her home was France.

Jeremy didn’t react outwardly, but inside, the confession sent him spiraling. Half of him had been counting on her staying in America. It made the logistics easier. But hearing she planned to return, possibly permanently, recalibrated everything. It wasn’t a dealbreaker, he told himself. Just a challenge. Besides, he was already learning French. How else would he speak to her family? To their future children? Did she want kids? She must. With the way she hosted. With the way she cooked. It was housewife-coded, absolutely. Though a housewife implied a marriage, and Jeremy couldn’t picture one between her and Tylio. Sure, the man was less of a hardass with her and seemed to defer to her, which wasn’t nothing, but it was the bare minimum. She was half his age and rich- of course he’d go along with her. He’d be an idiot not to. But it didn’t mean he was the one for her. Marinette, while beautiful and welcoming, was undoubtedly naive. And naive people needed protecting. He wasn’t sure Tylio could offer that. Not really, considering he was in their home, sitting here like it was normal. These thoughts looped in Jeremy’s mind as they worked through the reshoot notes. The talk was dry, the planning tedious, but it offered more glimpses into who Marinette was. He learned she didn’t care for wine, but adored Limoncello. That she drank it with surprising consistency. That her tolerance was lower than her confidence suggested…All of which was useful. All of it confirmed what he already suspected: she needed someone to look after her. Someone who understood her and noticed the things she missed.

When the lighter slipped from Jeremy’s grasp, Marinette was already moving, kneeling to retrieve it. “Non, non- it’s okay.” Her hand brushed his, returning the lighter, but there was a flicker of worry in her eyes. While she was tipsy, she was no stranger to it, plus Tylio was used to looking after her when she got this way. Jeremy, however, was different. He was a guest. Her guest. “Tylio, I think I gave him too much.” She glanced over her shoulder, then back to Jeremy. “Let’s get you some food and water, okay?” She rose to her feet, switching to French without a second thought. “Est-ce que tu peux lui prendre quelque chose dans le frigo? Quelque chose avec du pain et des protéines?” Her fingers pressed lightly to the back of Jeremy’s neck. He felt overheated, but what she didn’t realize was it was her who was flushed, not him. “Maybe I should not have given you the limoncello. I’m sorry.”

When Tylio returned, Jeremy accepted the water with a grateful nod, nursing it in slow, deliberate sips while Marinette fluttered about. She looked adorable like this: cheeks flushed, bright blue eyes flicking around, dipping in and out of her mother tongue…She was fussing now, insisting he stay the night in one of the guest rooms. He caught only fragments, but the intention was clear. And yet, despite the concern lacing her words, she kept glancing toward Tylio for confirmation. As though she needed his blessing. It was her home. Her invitation. Why did she keep deferring? “I think this has been enough,” Jeremy tried, managing a weak chuckle as he moved to rise. “Really, I can just-” But she was already at his side, her hand resting on his shoulder. The warmth of it, the softness of her smile…made his chest tighten in a way that was hard to shake. She didn’t have a clue what she was doing to him. Of course she didn’t and that was half the beauty in this.

“Non, non. You stay here,” she said softly, reaching for a piece of toast from the plate. “Finish this first.” Her voice was gentle, coaxing, as she held it up to him. “Then you go to the guest room, d’accord? It has a private bathroom- you can take a shower, rest. I even have pajamas you can borrow.” She placed the toast into his hand with a little smile, already stepping away, her focus shifting to Tylio. Though there was a small hush to her tone as she reached him, smoothing his shirt where it rested against his shoulders. “Ça va pour toi, si Jeremy reste ici ce soir?” she asked gently, light hues lifting to meet his. “Je crois que je lui ai donné trop de limoncello…Je me sentirais mieux s’il ne conduisait pas.”

Tylio walked through the door first, with papers in hand, reviewing his own notes. He had Jeremy write them down while he drove them here but reading them back now, he almost wondered whether Jeremy had paid attention because half of the things he said were missing. It was unusual, but Tylio chalked Jeremy's distraction up to the fact that they were nearing the weekend. Besides, his colleague might be a little bit starstruck. It was not unusual for even the people who worked with her to be impressed with Marinette's fame. Usually it went away after a while, when they realized that she was not just a star but also a person.

'Bonsoir!'

Marinette's voice greeted them from the kitchen and Tylio finally looked up, noticing the familiar scent of Marinette's cooking. As always, it brought a smile to his face and he finally closed the folder in his hands, gravitating toward the kitchen doorway. He halted there when she told him to go shower first, provoking a small laugh but no defense from him because she had assumed correctly that he'd planned on continuing work right away. "Laisse-moi au moins te regarder un moment", he replied, removing his coat while Jeremy appeared beside him in the doorway. Also watching.

Standing there in the kitchen, carefully preparing a delicious meal for the three of them, Marinette almost looked more beautiful than when she was all dolled up for the movie. Jeremy smiled. In a way, she was doing it for him—his presence in her apartment tonight was not planned, he was the reason she had to adjust the meal she was making. And she was putting so much effort into it. He was a bit shocked, it was hard to find women nowadays who knew how to cook, especially younger ones.

Tylio turned after a few seconds, handing the folder over to Jeremy. "I'll be right back, I think I have an idea for how we can do a reshoot that doesn't take up another three days", Jeremy was told, but he barely heard Tylio anymore because now he was focused entirely on Marinette. Tylio might as well have been a ghost, passing him by in the hallway, silently disappearing into some bathroom somewhere. And then it was just him and Marinette in the kitchen. Who knew he would get into her kitchen so soon?

He chatted with her, complimenting her dedication to the meal she was making. Complimenting more things about her, although she didn't know it. He told her that he hadn't yet asked out the girl and she told him in no uncertain words, that he shouldn't wait too long. Was she flirting with him? Hinting, maybe? Had she told Tylio to go take a shower on purpose, so the two of them could have a moment alone? Jeremy put down the folder on the kitchen island. It remained ignored for now, while he took a seat on one of the chairs. Drinking. Watching. "Y'know, I can help set the table", he offered, but as he turned around to glance into the living room, he realized it was already set. She was on top of everything. In the time it took him and Tylio to finish up at work and drive here, she had gone to the store, then gone home, changed into the lacy number he requested, set the table and got started on a meal for three. Was this what it was like, coming home to Marinette?

While Jeremy's crush on Marinette intensified by the moment, Tylio finished up his shower. By the time he returned to the living room, Jeremy and Marinette were already seated at the table and the folder...where did it go? He glanced around for a moment, searching, but then his eyes locked with Marinette's and he realized it was time to shift focus now. She'd prepared a meal for them, and not a simple one either. Some of the dishes on the table were things he knew took time. For a moment, he almost felt a bit bad for inviting Jeremy and giving her extra work. It wasn't like he expected this of her. If it had been up to him, he would've just offered Jeremy some coffee, ordered some food and gotten right into the project. But he forgot, Marinette was a dedicated host. She never let people enter their home without offering them something. He finally sat down with them, taking the chair beside Marinette. "This smells wonderful", he told her with a smile, touching the back of her shoulders and briefly leaning in to kiss the side of her head. "Let's eat. I promise I won't talk about work during dinner", Tylio chuckled, and it was probably the most Jeremy had ever seen him laugh in this short of a timespan.

Jeremy was sitting across from them with a deceptively polite smile on his face. There was something almost offensive to him about this picture of domestic bliss and that was the fact that for now, he was not a part of it. Tylio was alright. He was kind of a hardass, and Jeremy probably wouldn't have befriended him if it weren't for Marinette but he was fine. However, right now, Jeremy felt something close to contempt for him. Did he realize how lucky he was?

Throughout the meal, conversation was nice but very surface-level. Jeremy asked Marinette a few things about other movies she'd done, making subtle references to a few scenes because he could not resist revealing himself to be knowledgeable about her projects. He wanted her to know that he'd seen her movies and paid close attention to the plot. But of course, he didn't want to come off as too obsessive so he also mentioned a few other french movies he'd seen, proclaiming his interest in french cinema. He also asked her about Conques and she had a lot to say, which made him think that a part of her probably missed it. He felt he could get away with not asking Tylio anything—after all, they worked closely together every day and in Jeremy's opinion, Marinette's life was objectively more interesting. During certain moments, he could almost pretend as though it were just the two of them dining together.

After dinner, Tylio suggested they have some coffee and go over the reshoot, and Jeremy had to feign interest. He was far more interested in hearing more from Marinette but he was smart enough to know that he had a particular part to play. At least for now. After Tylio fetched their work papers from the kitchen, they all migrated to the couch area and spent the next hour going over all the director's notes. At some point, Jeremy requested the limoncello that Marinette offered earlier, joking that it might help inspire them. As the sunlight slowly drained out of the sky, he realized that sooner or later, one of them would suggest he go home and he wasn't quite ready for that. Especially now that he knew what Marinette was wearing. Every time she shifted around and her sweater would slide down her shoulder a little bit, Jeremy's eyes would linger. His plan had been to watch her undress through one of the windows but when he got here, he realized the windows were tinted now. Such a shame...or perhaps a blessing in disguise, because now he was here. Much closer to her than he would have been from outside the building.

While the evening progressed, Jeremy pretended to drink several glasses of limoncello. In reality he only drank about half of what was poured, tossing the rest into a nearby potted plant whenever no one was looking his way or one of them left the room. He still drank some of it, just to make it seem more realistic, but it wasn't enough to get him as drunk as he pretended to be once it had gotten dark outside and the time for him to leave was creeping dangerously closer.

"Thank you for coming over on such short notice", Tylio started, and Jeremy knew that this was the beginning of a polite little dance that they were going to do around the subject of his departure. "I'm glad we could agree on a plan for monday." Jeremy smiled—a half smile that he tried to make look intentionally messy.

"Oh yeah, no worries. I'm glad I got to see your lovely home", he was addressing Marinette too now, slurring some of his words just a little bit. Just enough to make it believable. Hopefully. "Guess I'd better hit the road...", he nodded at his own words, briefly pretending to look at his watch. He already knew what time it was. "If I could jus' use the bathroom first?" He looked up, spying the look of mild concern on Tylio and Marinette's faces. Bingo. Jeremy didn't wait for an answer before he got up, pretending to lose his balance. Tylio jumped up to grab his shoulders as he pretended to nearly stumble into the coffee table and he let himself be caught, feigning a drunken chuckle to really drive his point home. "Wow, okay...sorry about that, lemme go drink some...some water", he suggested, but didn't protest when Tylio shook his head and guided him instead to sit back down.

"I'll grab you a glass", Tylio announced with a surprisingly understanding tone that Jeremy was not quite expecting. Maybe it was because Marinette was there. Or maybe it was because it was nighttime. If this had been during work hours, he probably would have been scolded. When Tylio left the room and Jeremy was left alone with Marinette for a moment, he decided to pour it on a little thicker. "Don't worry, he's exaggerating, I'm fine. I jus' need to have a smoke, and I'm good", he waved his hand dismissively and then went on to grab a lighter from his pocket, pretending to drop it on the floor. "Ah shit. Oh, my bad. Don't mean to be crass in front of a lady", he chuckled, and he was actually starting to find himself obnoxious now. But he needed to make her really think that he was drunk. Too drunk to drive home.

#m: marinette beauséjour #p: tylio cellier #b: tyliocellier #marinette x tylio: 002 #v: young actress #[on mobile > >]#[a good old airplane post 😂]

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coolchickgigi · 2 days ago

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Okay okay hear me out! I’m new at writing but would it be possible to just spit out the idea 💡

Let’s say we are in the omegaverse (the ABO where alpha O and beta A exist)

There are 2 omega reader bffs, one was an Omega A and the other an Omega O. Both friends have been very close throughout school as they looked after eachother. Especially Omega A who always stood up for Omega O. Their plan after school was to travel the world to study abroad, but they each wanted to go to different schools in other parts of the world. So they promised to keep in contact and support each other from far away. They both shared an interest in nursing and wanted to help in the military. Thankfully both schools are quite close to military bases.

As both omegas go to their chosen universities, they venture on into those fun college night outs. They seem to be attracted to the bars where soldiers go to unwind. As their each in different parts of the world, they still text each-other telling the other what their plan was for the night. Betting how many drinks they can get for free, how many people they can make hot and flustered, even comparing who had the hottest guys at their bar. Well coincidentally both omegas found themselves in the hungry eyes of their own future pack.

Omega A found herself in the sight of the most strongest military pack, Task force 141. Her confidence in handling herself in public, despite being an omega, has intrigued the pack. They were both enthralled and concerned about your safety as you flirted and played with the poor soldiers heart strings, don’t worry love they’ll save you soon and fix that straight out of you. (heh try to)

It was Captain Price who brought attention to the rest of his boys to you. Price was an Alpha A with a level head unlike most alpha A’s who were known to be aggressive and overly dominant. He made sure to hold power over his men while being a good and protective alpha. Whereas he had his lieutenant, Ghost, who was also an alpha A, who had a deep strong loyalty to his pack and his captain. He is reserved most of the time but can become very aggressive when needed to be. (Oh don’t get me started on how bad his ruts can be, poor Johnny) Then the other pack members, Gaz who is a Beta A and Soap a Beta O. They worked together to bring a balance to the pack and being there for their alphas of the pack. However it was mostly Johnny who became the most helpful with the alphas ruts. Simon always calling the Scot a mutt in heat, since Johnnys ruts were more like heats as he became in tuned with the pack.

Thankfully, you were just what they were looking for. They needed an omega who could handle the demands of two powerful alphas, and the young energetic energy of the packs two betas. They just needed to find their ways into your bubble and court you properly dear. Don’t worry, their already marking you as their own in their heads as they challenge every other soldier with an icy glare and their strong scents already scaring off the poor alpha who left you with his tail tucked. Now you just needed to stomp your way to them and they’ll handle your pretty self just fine love.

As for Omega O, she found herself at the bar that was most frequented by the Kortac pack on rare occasions. Luckily for them, they came after a long mission and found you incredibly drunk and had a boost of confidence, despite being shy most of your life. You felt the need to prove yourself since you always felt like you were seen as weak for being an Omega O. So you stomped your small feet up to the biggest soldier you saw, pointing your much smaller finger up to his face, which really only reached his chest, demanding a staring contest. Unlucky for you, you challenged Konig, the Alpha A of the Kortac pack. He didn’t really like being challenged, his subordinates knew that better than anyone else. But to you, he could only smirk down thinking how cute you were being, and also wanted to see when would it be good to correct your behavior. He couldn’t get out of the challenge anyway, as you seemed to have started the contest already as you stare drunkenly into his deep blue eyes through his mask. Without knowing you started, he blinked as he looked to his pack to see if they see this. Hornagi, the beta A of the pack, snickered and couldn’t help but find the whole thing interesting. His other pack mate, Kreuger, an Alpha beta was more focused on how your eyes lit up as you declared you won. Konig who looked back down at you, speaking in a his deep accented voice, “don’t think that’s how it works, and don’t you know how to speak to your superiors”. Which all you could do was laugh with a challenging grin, “you’re just mad I won and you lost!”. But the alpha could only roll his eyes and let a small smirk slip under his mask. It was Hornagi who called out and told you to come challenge some real alphas, picking fun at the tall Austrian man who glared at him. You drunkingly turned and wobbled your way to the table to get every last drop worth of your strong buzz. But as you all play drinking games, they sneakily tell the bartender to just give you water. Which you still happily chugged in triumph unaware of the change in flavor. They just couldn’t believe such a small Omega O could be so energetic and even more so not afraid of them. But the more you let yourself get comfortable so did they, and after that night they needed to make sure you weren’t getting hurt by the wrong people. So they obviously made a pack decision to court you. Don’t worry little maus, they’ll keep you under their watch and hopefully under them soon. They’ll show you how good it is to be in a pack that can and will protect you, they have no doubt about that.

And when both friends, Omega O and Omega A, finally get back together after finishing schooling, they each have a pack mark to show off. Each sharing their stories of how it happened, and best believe these two won’t leave out any juicy details.

Okok sorry for long post but please tell me if I should dive more into this 👀

I can make separate stories of each of the omegas experiences, and even have it where the best friends work together. Like playing games with their pack and seeing what reaction they’d get. Ahhhh I’m sorry ok I’ll stop ✋ (not)

I’ve been wanting more fics of the cod omegaverse so I had to do it myself. Please lmk if you like this idea, if not I might still write it anyway

#cod omegaverse #könig #cod poly 141 x reader #konig x reader #kortac #poly tf141 #poly!141 #konig fic #horangi #cod krueger #cod mw2 #abo cod #simon ghost riley #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #omegaverse #first post

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azaharinflames · 2 days ago

Note

how do you think a tommy kinard story arc could unfold in s9 if his character becomes a main?

i’ll be fully honest here, i don’t think he will be a main in season 9. i think his role will be the same as karen, though perhaps a bit more active when it comes to helping out during emergencies.

that being said, whether he is main or regular/recurring, i just want to know his past pre-118. i am stopping myself from rooting for a begins episode because i honestly think ravi’s should come first, but i’m so curious about tommy’s past.

one thing they could explore and that i would love to see is his dad, and tommy’s relationship with him. because it’s been teased and because 911 loves to do parental storylines, this i can totally see happening. i would just ask to not end the storyline with tommy forgiving his father, because for as much as this shows is about growth and learning to be better, i am tired of them forgiving the parent units time and time again. sorry lmao.

on a completely ‘realistic’ note, i think his storylines will mostly be about his relationship with Buck. If (like we theorize) they are an established couple by Season 9, they can start exploring different possibilities with them. Moving in together (if they haven’t done it yet), meeting the families, sordid pasts (this time, perhaps Tommy’s) coming back… crashing that helicopter (with a happy ending ofc). The possibilities are endless. Seeing them actively work an emergency together (that is, in an official way and not bc they stole government property together) could also be super fun and interesting to watch. and! it would be a topic we haven’t really explored, have we? knowing how to deal with your partner being in a dangerous situation with you, and knowing you have to be a complete professional about it.

#bucktommy #tevan #911 spec #listen i’ll be glad if he’s a main #but i think the only one to have a chance to become a main is ravi #and whoever they have starting at the 118 (my bet is for one grant sibling #and i lean more towards may)#would LOVE lou as a main but i don’t see it - yet #anon ❣️

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amalthea-13 · 2 days ago

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Blitz Should Have Died

Introduction

Hello all, it is I, Amalthea, the Ultimate Stolas Kinnie and Stan. I want to address someone who recently commented on a post of mines. I will be piggybacking off a point my mutual @cute-little-fly made in the comments and a post they made that works in tandem with a lot of what I am going to talk about here. Give my mootie a follow, they're awesome! (Hi Fly UwU)

Heavily encourage ya'll to read up on this post. They post some great stuff. Anyway, onto my points. While I may echo some of Fly's points, I will be also imputing my own thoughts regarding Mastermind considering my unique perspective, hence the title. Hopefully, this doesn't get me into to much trouble lol.

Blitz Deserved to Die

In one of my posts I addressed the religious symbolism in Mastermind. Vivienne has been noted by Brandon in interviews as an individual who takes Biblical lore very seriously. If you want more information on this please read my Stolas, Mastermind, and Religious Symbolism + Classism Conversation essay, but in short the point of Mastermind is to show how far Stolas has come as a person.

Firstly, he takes on a punishment he didn't deserve. Blitz was guilty according to the narrative and the law. Regardless of how Andre and Stella spun it, he was in fact guilty. It was a deserved punishment according to the law of Hell.

Stolas willingly and selflessly put himself in the line of fire for something he didn't deserve. Again, from the Sins point of view, Stolas was merely coerced into this. (Not canonically), but from their point of view he was a victim.

Stolas could have stuck with that narrative and let Blitz die to protect Octavia from losing himself. He could clean his hands of Blitz and be on his merry way to find another partner or person to fuck.

Blitz's death would have been deserved afterall. It's not entirely Stolas's problem at that point. He doesn't have to do anything, nor is Blitz his priority in life.

Stolas could continue living and finally be rid of Blitz and all his emotional bullshit. Octavia would be happy and have her father!

There you go, Happily Ever After.

Toodles! Amalthea Out!

What? You genuinely think that is what I believe?

Unfortunately for you dear reader, I don't believe any of the above text I just wrote out. However, I thought it'd be interesting for you all to read how a lot of you sound when defending Octavia and saying Stolas "picked Blitz over her". You see how- sadistic that sounds? How cruel it comes off as? Sure, it's the truth, but- I mean is Blitz really that insignificant to me as a writer that I think he should be- written off and killed purely because he was guilty?

Purely for the sake of a character I relate to and understand?

Let's utilize our media literacy skills guys.

Two Things Can be True at Once

Personally, I get why a lot of people defend Via so staunchly, but good GODS it gets annoying when you all imply Blitz deserved to die purely for the sake of Octavia having Stolas in her life. I feel like many of you forget who else would suffer in the situation.

Loona.

While she is in her 20s and completely fine, Blitz is Loona's whole world even if she isn't willing to admit it. He is her ENTIRE support system and therefore, makes Blitz more important than Octavia's comfort.

I apologize if that seems- cruel to say, but in practicality, Octavia can go to the other Sins or Vassago. Literally anyone else.

Who does Loona have? Millie and Moxxie? Two individuals who are about to deal with a baby (maybe) on their hands? She's an adopted child with NO OTHER FAMILY besides Blitz. She doesn't know Barbie Wire at all. Loona has NO ONE.

I ain't saying Octavia's situation is better, but she can easily turn to other people. Paimon even if she truly needed it. Loona has no one. Blitz is literally her everything.

Stolas made a noble sacrifice to protect another girl who needed saving too. It was reckless, it was irrational, it wasn't well thought out, but he did what he had to do.

While I sympathize with Octavia's pain, trust me I know abandonment, I also empathize more with Loona. She was also put in an AWFUL situation, but no one seems to listen to or care for her in this situation.

The reality is, Stolas did what he had to do. I have mentioned before that I do not think Stolas thought he would die. While many may not agree with me, I genuinely think Stolas thought he could get away with just some jail time or even be pardoned to a different trial where he could maybe fight this.

Stolas in my opinion believed his privilege could save him from dying, and look at what happened? He LIVED because of his privilege;

Stolas: Um... *stands up* I mean...aren't you going to....you know...

[Stolas slides a finger across his throat.]

Stolas: Execute me?

Satan: Hah! Aw no, 'course not. You are a Goetia.

Stolas: But I... committed a heinous crime!

Satan: Yeah you did. But, you are demon royalty sooo... your life has actual worth.

Yes, Stolas was incredibly reckless, but he had privilege and utilized it to save a life. Isn't that noble? Isn't that worth celebrating?

The fact Stolas's plan actually worked, if my theory is correct, is beyond astonishing. In one of my reblogs titled Discussing Mastermind and Why I Think Stolas didn't believe He would Die, I discuss the emotional implications further, but I do believe Stolas was banking on his privilege to save him. Maybe he'd be put in jail or whatever, but at least he thought he'd be able to keep Via. He knew he was throwing his life away, but Blitz deserved to be saved too.

I do believe Stolas cares about Via, but he also loves and cares about Blitz. Those two things can coexist, and are why I think he ultimately made the decision he did. In my opinion it wasn't a question of "Octavia or Blitz?" but the question of "His life or your own?" That was the internal dilemma on the table, and without thinking Stolas saved Blitz, but in a situation between his status or his daughter? You all would be rooting for him to pick Octavia. It wasn't about Via, but if Stolas would willingly sacrifice his comfort for people he loves.

Stolas is an abuse victim and sacrificed his physical and emotional well being for Octavia. He does love and care for her.

To anyone who- insists on saying Stolas still doesn't care about Octavia, when he lost his powers and status, what was the first thing he said;

Stolas: [weakly] But, what about my daughter?

After his punishment, Stolas wasn't concerned about Blitz or himself, but worried about Octavia herself. That girl was the only thing on his mind after saving Blitz.

Both of these characters are deeply loved by him, and he has sacrificed everything he has for them. Both physical and emotional. Stolas has sacrificed his blood, sweat, tears, and bones to both Blitz and Octavia and I wish people respected that more.

Blitz Didn't Deserve to Die

As much shit as I give Blitz, despite being known well for being his biggest critic, I did not want him to die. Even if it meant Octavia being comforted by her father's presence.

I wanted nothing more than for them BOTH to walk away unscathed, but a crime was committed and someone had to pay.

And I would hate for Loona to also lose her father- Stolas made a noble sacrifice for not just Blitz, but also for Loona and that should be noted and understood.

Many of you will continue to die on the hill of "he chose Blitz over Via!" and act as if he doesn't love her, but Stolas sacrifices for people everyday.

He gives up parts of himself he shouldn't have to just so people are happy. He sacrifices anything he wants to provide for people's needs. Whether it be physical, mental, or emotional, Stolas consistently throws himself in harms way to help those he loves.

I will continue to emphasize it over and over for you all as an audience, but everything he does, he doesn't have to do.

Even for Stella, he tries to remain loyal and even keep things comfortable despite his own suffering and internal turmoil.

Stolas didn't want Blitz to die, and therefore that should be merit enough to understand that Blitz didn't deserve it, even if Octavia remains upset.

Octavia Will Get Over It

I have been in this girl's shoes. While it all- stings and hurts for so long. You learn to move on and that at some point you have to let go.

Unlike Via tho... I went years without closure. For Octavia, closure is just around the corner and in some ran down apartment rented by some red dickhead.

She'll get through her feelings and eventually realize where she and her father need to talk and communicate.

I know saying she'll "get over it" is cruel, but she is a young adult. She has to learn that adults have to at some point choose themselves. That they can't- give of themselves infinitely.

What Stolas and Octavia had wasn't sustainable, the constant- expectation he'd willingly choose her over everyone is simply unrealistic. Stolas needs room to grow and love himself. Via needs to learn some independence and that she will be okay with or without Stolas.

She will be okay.

Conclusion

While this may be- a convoluted post, I do hope you all understand why I push back against this argument so hard. Shoutout to my mootie Fly again. Your original comment inspired this whole mess lol.

Toodles, Amalthea Out!

#helluva boss #justhellaversethings #stolas #stolas goetia #stolitz #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss blitz #stolas x blitz #hazbin hotel #blitzø

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morningstar-the-king-himself · 3 days ago

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"You work so much...there's plenty of days I'm mostly on my own. Not that I just sit around. I venture off and explore..." Michael had insisted on covering everything. If Lucifer found something that caught his interest, he'd pursue it but Michael had reassured that his job was more than enough to take care of both of them. In the beginning, it seemed swell! Michael had always led their way and Lucifer never had any reason to not just trust his brother. But now...he thinks he should have been far more independent sooner.

He looked back toward were Alastor was...they were boyfriends now. Alastor looked so well put together. So elegant and experienced. Lucifer was...pretty? Interesting at least? But how far would that get him?

"I'll get a job myself! A better one that most I've had. Not part time either! I'm going to be more independent!" He declared happily, sure it was the correct move. Less strain on his brother, more appealing for Alastor hopefully. His brother could potentially take some time to enjoy life and explore it and have fun!

Then he nodded happily, "Alastor! Oh, Mikey, it was such fun! We went to a parlor and it turned out to be this really cool and nifty 1930's themed speakeasy! And he's such a gentleman! Aaaand...we're boyfriends! Isn't that amazing?!"

Alastor couldn’t describe the euphoric joy that crashed into him hearing the words back. He nuzzled the other back and chuckled lightly. “More than okay.” He assured, kissing his temple. “Let’s rest.” He encouraged, rubbing his back.

He waited for Ombre to confirm the man was asleep to silently cry as he allowed it all to hit him. Lucifer was alive, he was a different person now, but alive and apparently their love never faded. Alastor never believed in one-true-love, however, he didn’t know what else to explain this with…

He eventually fell asleep as well, luckily Ombre wiped his tears as he drifted off.

They woke up the next morning and took a shower together. Alastor offering to clean Lucifer’s hair and body (and offering to take care of any problems that may have popped up as a result. They then ended up in the living room, cuddled up and eating cereal, Alastor dressed back up in his clothes from last night, minus his bow tie he purposefully left behind. He was totally relaxed until he heard the door being unlocked, turning to look over as it was opened.

“Hey Lucifer, sorry I was out all night I picked up donu—What the fuck?” Michael’s greeting stopped, dropping the box of donuts in shock. “...Who’s this…?”

Alastor smiled. “I’m Alastor, Lucifer’s boyfriend.”

“Oh… You stayed the night? How fun…?” Michael said, strained, smile completely fake and twitching as he fought to keep it up. It was made even harder to do as Alastor smirked and squeezed Lucifer closer.

#alwayssmilingvenison #//poor Michael xD I can FEEL his eye twitch #//just wiat til he realizes who Alastor really is XD

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inkbidding · 2 days ago

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"When Emma Falls Inlove" inspired K.B oneshot

Synopsis: Just 1k+ words of Bakugo and You noticing little things about each other, your friends noticing that there is something going on, and just Katsuki slowly but surely going soft for you.

Tags: Fluff, Bakugo x reader, mutual (oblivious) pining

Credit: @cafekitsune for the dividers!

It took Katsuki Bakugo 3 weeks of continuous sessions of sparring to realize that the relentless beating of his heart whenever you smiled at him, wasn't just adrenaline. It took being kidnapped by the League of Villains for him to see how much you truly cared for him, and it took exactly 1 year to admit to himself that he did indeed, feel something for you.

On the other side of the coin, you were quite the opposite. You knew and accepted the rush and flush that Bakugo gave you. The moment you saw him, you accepted your fate.

"So you do like Bakugo!" Exclaimed Mina as she let a wide grin spread across her face. She has been pretty persistent in figuring out what exactly was going on between you and Bakugo, being entirely convinced that there was even something at all. Meanwhile, you did your best to remain vague, seemingly uninterested but if Mina wants to know something, she will force it out of anyone. Literally anyone. In defeat, you caved and told her of your small (in denial) crush on the hotheaded man.

You hoped she wouldn't make a fuss about it, a part of you was already skeptical about having such feelings for Bakugo, you didn't need everyone else knowing about it. Yet, Mina practically squeaked with joy as she took your shoulders in her rather firm grip and shook her excitement into you. "Would you be quiet?!" A panic rose in your voice as you and Mina were getting stares from other people in the common room. A hand of yours quickly covers her mouth, and she grins as if she just won the lottery.

After a few beats of muffling against your hand, she yanked it away and seemed to have calmed down, but that cheeky grin was still there. "When will you tell him?" She teases, her hands gripping yours, almost hostage-like. "Never, it will just go away and I seriously doubt he has an interest in me, in anyone really" You retorted. It was true, you didn't believe that Bakugo would ever really be anything more than a crush, he just wasn't the type of guy you could envision having a future with. Well, that's a lie. There were times you saw his potential in...certain areas.

He was a great cook, you have the pleasure of tasting his cooking every once in a while when Kirishima or Kaminari convinces (pesters him really) him to cook for the dorm. Other than that, he cleans, like a lot. He might not look it, but he likes things organized and in order. Hot, right? At times you'd imagine what it would be like to wake up next to him, he would probably be wearing something suitable for a workout or running, and he gets up early to do that. How do you know that? Well, your dorm room's window overlooks the pathway near the entrance of the building, and you often see him jogging out for a quick run or even working out near the grass.

But yeah, he's not someone you imagine having a future with, definitely not...

Bakugo would be damned if he said that he didn't find you attractive. He did, actually he did say that, in a rather loud and dramatic way when Kirishima questioned him casually one day. But it was a lie because every time you would look at him, tilt your pretty little head, and smile, he felt like he could have the world in his hands.

The way you would talk back at him whenever he would try to be snarky to you, was like electricity flowing through his veins. Especially when the two of you would spar, and somehow you'd end up beneath him, all tough, the smirk that graces his face for a few seconds (which has your cheeks flushing) was enough to get you to tap out in defeat couple of times.

Safe to say, Katsuki Bakugo was whipped. Slowly and slowly he was becoming softer in your presence, but even he can't even admit it to himself.

"Katsuki." The soft melody of your voice snapped the man out of his thoughts, he doesn't remember when he even gave you permission to call him by his first name, but he does not mind at all. Bakugo found himself responding with a small huff of acknowledgment, he didn't curse you out or avoid you with a scoff, which was the treatment others often got. But you were different.

You place your elbow onto the kitchen counter, your chin leaning against it. "Denki was wondering if we could hang in your dorm room tonight, it's movie night-" Your words were quickly interrupted by a grunt from the man, it seemed as if he was saying no, but from experience, you know that's a yes. To which you retorted, not wanting to prove Mina right since she was so convinced that Bakugo would say yes to anything if you asked. "Uhm, and Mina wants to drink those sticky sour energy drinks, you don't mind? You know those things could, well, stick everywhere if it spilled." You chuckle and he looks at you and shrugs. He shrugged and looked you straight in the eye and didn't care.

'Bakugo will let anything go past him if it's you. We've all seen it.' Mina's words ring in your ears while they also turn a bit red. The thought of Bakugo doing anything just because of you was flattering, in a way. As he continues to go about his task, you turn and see Mina and Denki giving you a cheeky thumbs up, the sigh you let out is so loud that it makes the man next to you look.

"What stupid movie are we watching?" He asks gruffly. His gaze was on you, but it was firm, yes, but it was also eager. As if he wanted to speak with you.

"Don't know...they didn't tell me." You say, resisting the urge to look away. "You won't leave again like last time, right?" He had a habit of agreeing to hang out with people and then leaving when he got bored.

Bakugo paused, scoffed then walked past you. He mumbles something under his breath, whether he meant it or not doesn't matter, it still has your heart racing.

"Tch-, As long as you're there." Bakugo surprises even himself, the edge of his ears burn and he tries to casually walk up the stairs, half-desperate to get as far away from you, because only you would ever make him say something so freaking stupid.

#bakugo x reader #fluff #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #mha fluff #fanfiction #x reader #x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki fluff #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki x y/n

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mermaidsirennikita · 1 day ago

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i hate how mainsteam fanfiction has gotten...why am i seeing acticles from vulture discussing fanfiction...why are people selling and buying fanfiction bound like books...why are people talking about and recommending fanfiction like they're books...why is more and more fanfiction getting published and those books getting turned into films...don't get me wrong i love fanfiction i still read it actively but there used to be a seperation of church and state as it were and now that seems to be gone

I think there's a real issue rising with regards to fanfic in which it is losing its main purpose, which is to entertain without serious criticism, because why would you apply serious critique to something that is simply made for fun and for (and this is important) NO. MONEY.

And a lot of it is written by! Minors!

I haven't written fanfic in 10+ years at this point, and I did write MOST of the fic I wrote (which isn't a lot) as a minor. It's far from my best work, and I wouldn't want to be judged on it the way I would want to be judged by work I publish as a professional author (and btw, I do hope to do that some day, and I do WRITE FOR MONEY RIGHT NOW, which means I am totally used to critique for things! I get paid! To do!).

I do have feelings about how we put fic on a pedestal, but I also genuinely think that we are fucking over fic authors (and to a lesser extent readers) when we're like "ooooh, look at this, so much better than anything published" and put some poor stranger's random lines on Twitter or Threads or whatever to be eaten up by the masses who do not read fic and don't know the etiquette. Because there are the people who uphold fic as Inherently Better, which I think is shitty, and there are people who would never admit that a beautifully written fic (and those exist) is beautifully written purely because it's fic, and will mock it to death. Which is also shitty.

The safe spaces are being destroyed and commodified, and sometimes the authors of the fic are complicit, and sometimes they're being used by people who commodify their fics without their permission through unauthorized book binds for sale, etc. A quick search on Etsy reveals dozens of Manacled binds, merch with fic quotes, etc. And while the author of that fic wouldn't be able to legally authorize that anyway because IT IS A FIC, I know for a fact that they wouldn't even have done this covertly because they have rewritten and sold Manacled as a book.

(And I also think that conversely, there is some gross dismissal of authors who begin with fic-to-books, because when that is done properly, there is a lot of work that goes into transforming the work. There is editing, there is critique, and I think you can see a lot of growth from authors who've been in the game for a while. Christina Lauren started out with a Twilight fic to book, and they've transformed their style MASSIVELY over time. Ali Hazelwood is really shifting in a big way. Do all authors put this work in? No. But to brush these uniformly off as if there isn't work and originality is... bleh.)

I'll be honest, I find it to be a real turn-off when Bookstagrammers recommend fics as books. Literally, I see them refer to them as "books". They're not. They're fics. There is nothing wrong with them being fics. That is still an art form. But it is a different art form, and it should be respected as that, and books should be respected for what they are.

I also want to add that for a lot of young fic authors especially, fic acts as training wheels. It was that for me. I wrote fic when I was a baby. Literally like, 12 and using a fake name online to avoid predators lol. And I wrote fic for historical shows when I was a bit older (but still quite young) because I was interested in writing historical fiction at that time (and I still am, but on the historical romance bent) and I was deliberately playing in a safe space where I felt I could experiment without having to do the heavy lifting that a historical fiction author often does. I could familiarize myself with the Vibe while playing in an existing world where readers knew the rules and I didn't have to sift through biographies and academic resources if I didn't want to. I didn't know how to do that! I hadn't been to college! I was a teenager!

It feels like that capacity for experimentation is being taken away as it's commodified. And frankly, we're also drifting into some pretty murky legal waters with some of this stuff, and like. I don't know. Ethics of marketing anything off the back of the monster that is JKR aside, is it really that *safe* for publishers to be using Dramione to market Dramione-fics-to-books when the author is an extremely wealthy loose cannon who could sniff the wrong mold and let loose some lawyers at any time? I don't know. Stephenie Meyer decided not to do anything (publicly) to address 50 Shades back in the day, but a lot of legit sources indicated that she considered it.

I just think that we're basically seeing fic fall into the world of capitalism, and while that's not something that NEVER HAPPENED before (again, Twifics were converted to books way before BookTok and Reylo books and Dramione books and so on) it's way bigger now, and I don't think it's good.

Also: This isn't even getting into the ethics of RPF, like the 1D fics, the Taylor Swift fics (I.... can't handle Taylor lyrics as book titles, and while I don't super care for her, I do think that's very much an invasion and not something I would intentionally do as a writer, sorry) and so on. I have read sapphic books that I'm fairly certain had TSwift inspo, and some of them were good books! And I actively try to promote sapphic books because they're underrepresented in the genre! But I won't lie, I feel kind of weird about those books sometimes because? Yeah, I see the blatant Taylor inspo, and I know that she's expressed discomfort with that, and specifically the Gaylor speculation.

Again, really don't want to sound anti-fic here. I think that fic, in its purest form, is great. (Okay, I do think RPF fic is weird, but I'm not gonna look at the 12-year-olds who wrote 1D imagines back in the day with a harsh eye because... we do things when we're 12.) But dude, it has GOT to be its own thing.

#romance novel blogging

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pastafossa · 2 days ago

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hi pasta ! i’ve been a long time fan of you and your work, your writing is by far my favorite so far for matt that you’ve reignited me to write fanfics again ! i think you’re incredibly talented and so smart in your way of designing a story so vividly it just sparked my desire to to create again after my 30th reread of TRT. it is totally okay if you choose not to answer these but i have a couple of questions for writers? i have written fanfics before but they never came out to my liking (i never published them😅) so i’m looking to improve it and better my understanding of creating content that i like and am proud of!

the questions !! :

what are some things and tricks to writing lively, real dialogue? i find when i write sometimes my characters seem dull and cardboard like. i want it to flow naturally god dammit !

how do you go about characterization and staying true to it as your character develop and evolve? and to riff off of this question what is some additional research you would do to get the nature of your chosen character (ex, matt) right?

what are ways to better your writing? for example highlighting a characters complex emotions, describing the scenery around, detailed fight scenes and car chases, etc, etc. and not just them but silly grammatical errors and simple vocab. (i’m trilingual so it get a bit fuzzy remember all the rules of every language 😭) your foreshadowing game is just chefs kiss cuz you would sit on something and brush past it but it’ll make its comeback 20 chaps later, HOW??

and lastly, what is your advice to planning a long story? what are some steps you take to je respect the timeline of a show or a movie and how do you fit your OC into it? as well as making the OC’s backstory fit in. speaking of backstory and lore, i find it so hard to fit in believable, human lore to my OC and not make it super childish. i think you did such an interesting job with project beagle, the antagonist, the body swapping, the symbolism, etc, that it just feel so canon to me.

well thats all i have to ask, i hope it’s not too much, you really are such an awesome artist and i admire your work as a writer so much! thank you for sharing your stories on here/ao3. ❤️

Oh my gosh, this is so sweet! I'm absolutely gd honored you love TRT this much, I'm so, so happy it could help make you want to write fic again! 😭😭😭 Seriously, one of the things that just makes me absolutely delighted is when something I've made could lead to more things being made in turn, cause I don't just love Matt and Daredevil and TRT, I love stories in general! The world needs more of them, so this is FUCKING AWESOME. And I'm happy to answer these questions as best I can!

I'm also going to put this behind a see-more tag cause it's long LOL.

Token Matt gif just for fun. LET'S GET STARTED.

Natural, lively dialogue: Ooooh this is a fun question I haven't gotten asked before I don't think. I won't lie, part of it absolutely the immersion with all the shows, movies, and books I take in. But there's another element I was taught in creative writing classes - the idea that sometimes you should read as a writer. That is: read while asking yourself, 'how did they do that? Why? How did they foreshadow this?' Etc. You can do the same thing with characters speaking and with people. Listen to how these characters speak, how similar people speak, and try to get a feel for how they talk. I'll use contractions as an example. Most people use contractions, for example (at least in the US), in natural flowing dialogue. It's shorter, it's more casual, whereas they might speak more formally (less contractions) in a professional setting like a courtroom or when they're really angry and speaking somewhat threateningly. They also might not use contractions for other reasons - in TRT Ciro tends to use fewer contractions when speaking English, both because he's a classy guy and because English isn't his native language (he learned it more formally). I also try to treat each character as having their own natural accent (which can also show a bit of their personality). Matt rambles when he's nervous, but his dialogue gets sharp and choppy when he's furious (Devil wants to act, not talk). Foggy loves metaphors and has a lot of swings up and down in tone for emphasis (Grew up a theatre kid). When Jane in TRT is feeling particularly cold, she starts dropping unnecessary words from her sentences so they're shorter (more efficient + trained to give immediate answers without flourish). Sometimes it can also help to listen to the dialogue you write or have it go through a text-to-speech program so you can hear if it sounds stilted, but I've found the ability to detect stilted dialogue is just something you have to practice!

Keeping true to the character while letting them evolve: this is ALSO A FUN QUESTION. Especially because something I was taught is that, generally speaking (always exceptions): a stagnant character is a boring character. They need to struggle with who they are, and grow or devolve as a person. They need to learn. I knew I wanted that to happen in TRT, so yeah, a big question was how I could show characters growing while also keeping them the characters we know and love. And for me it was about figuring out what the basic building blocks of those characters were, and making sure they were always present, because an apple pie should always, in theory, come out of the oven an apple pie, even if it's been changed some by baking. Things like Matt's struggle with his faith, the way he's sorta incapable of finding a middle ground between Devil and Matt Murdock, his refusal to ignore injustice, his trauma and fear of abandonment, his love of the Kitchen, his anger issues and the ensuing impulsivity, these are all building blocks for him. These do not change. What changes is how they manifest, and what he does with them. Matt learns he can trust Jane with his trauma and fear of abandonment. She helps calm his anger. The building blocks are all still there. Some of them just get arranged a little differently as he grows. Same with Jane and how she has grown. She's always going to have Hound Mode floating around in the back of her head. Security will always be her biggest concern, her motivator. She's always going to be the one who prefers to think and plan. She'll always feel a little weird about personal identity, and be able to flip through lies and false faces with the best of them. But she'll handle all of that differently as she grows alongside Matt. The plot is baking them, changing those pies in the oven, but their base ingredients are something I'm super careful to keep consistent. That I think is one of my secrets since this has been going on 8 years now!

Additional research for characterization: I am always, always, always going to recommend good psychology research (I loved this shit in college, especially developmental psychology, and fortunately there's a TON that's easily accessible online and doesn't require any classes). For Matt, that would be psychological things like... what does repeated abandonment do to a person when they're a kid? How does abandonment and parental loss shape their attachment styles and relationships later in life (hint: it's not great)? We know he has untreated depression, so what's going on in his brain considering he's pushing all that down? What would the day-to-day struggle being exposed to all that crime and pain do (research into things like the mental health of paramedics and social workers, etc)? Dissect these characters like little bugs, put them on your table, and try to figure out why someone would do what they do. Be curious, basically!

How To Improve In General: I LOVE THAT YOU BROUGHT UP MY FORESHADOWING FIRST OFF, I'LL ANSWER THAT IN THE NEXT BIT FOR PLANNING BUT. For me this is a couple things. The biggest one is reading, reading, reading. Read professional stuff in addition to fanfic. Read in your chosen genre. Read writers you want to write like! Read writers who are writing what you want to learn! And when you do, ask yourself how they did what you want to do. I have one book series that's my absolute favorite, I've read it over and over and over again. And it's very likely that someone who's read that book series and TRT would be able to spot the influence that book series has had on Jane's character voice, how I write action scenes, morally grey characters, etc. So that's where some of it comes from! For things like detailed emotions and sensations, my favorite book is The Emotion Thesaurus! I've found I don't need it as much now because I've gotten the hang of it, but it's still good to have there as a refresher. And for things like grammar and simple vocab, not only will reading help, but I'd also open the door to any fandom friends who might beta read for you! I've been writing fic since I was... hrrgh, quite young. And I'm super grateful for the betas over the years that would go over my fic and leave notes - notes not just on what they had changed but why: why they changed this punctuation, why they broke up this sentence, why they capitalized this or lower-cased that. That helped a ton! But yeah, when in doubt, grab an author you love and open it up and go, '...Ok, so how did you do this???' Also holy hell, you're triilingual so you already get a TON of kudos here on learning how multiple languages work, YOU GOT THIS.

Planning a long story: now's the part where I make people groan but the biggest advice is to outline, I know a ton of us heard it in school and ignored it because pfft but THE OUTLINE REALLY IS IMPORTANT. This is how I was able to foreshadow things ages in advance - I knew what was coming in the future so I was able to leave breadcrumbs earlier on. This also meant I was able to figure out how certain dominoes would tip (like when TRT's original plotlines would change something in canon) or when there were gaps in Daredevil's timeline that I could neatly settle into. Knowing the entirety of the story and having it all laid out also meant it was easier to change things or work to make sure TRT fit into the Daredevil/Marvel Universe like a puzzle piece. That was one of the steps for me both when it came to respecting the timeline (not that you need to! That was a personal choice for me) and with making sure the lore all fit in. I love the Marvel universe, have since I was a kid, so I was able to tap some of their fun recurring tropes and themes (Evil scientists, secret government projects, Mutants/Enhanced characters in hiding) and instead of trying to make it new, I tried to do my own spin on it instead because I know this sort of thing already exists there, and threw in some of the other general genre tropes I enjoy (love me some symbolic otherworlds and psychic connections). I think for an OC like this, that's sort of the key. Their backstories will fit because they're built on power structures and building blocks that already exist. It's just about finding a little section that hasn't been told yet. That's where this type of OC flourishes: in these little gaps between walls and load-bearing pillars, a story and character you wouldn't find all that unusual if they popped up as a side character in canon, all to explore some part of the world that hasn't really been fleshed out yet. AND if desired, I think there's something to be said for matching just how grounded/fantastical your show/movie is. Daredevil is very, very grounded. People get hurt. They die. These aren't Avengers-level Gods who can take a lightning strike. So I respected that with Jane, who gets hurt... fairly often, tbh. I also leaned into, yet again, a story gap in that while a lot of the people running around with the Devil (Frank, Elektra, Stick, Jess and Luke, etc) are GOOD at fighting, Jane's specialty is NOT fighting, generally, even if she's pretty damn good with a gun and quick with her knife. Her specialty is getting away, so it gives us new things to explore in terms of threats and fight scenes!

I hope all of this helps! Everyone gets better with practice, so don't be afraid to put your stuff out there! God knows I've got old fanfic floating around the internet, and a lot of my early stuff wasn't anywhere near what TRT is. But I also couldn't have gotten to TRT without writing it, posting it, and learning from it. <3

#writing tips #ask response #the red thread #fanfic tips #fanfic #writing #writing advice #OC tips #this is just stuff i've learned over the years between classes (free and not - IF YOU SEE A FREE ONE TAKE IT)#along with lots of reading and practice practice practice

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