#i don't know what it is about this piece but i simply cannot finish it i am so sad and upset and honestly i kinda wanna kms <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[nalivaa]

being close isn't enough he's gotta be cuddled immediately

[sic-vita]

Good Omens final fifteen + Clues

my thoughts under the cut:

I finally finished ep 6 and while picking up the pieces of my broken heart, these are what I think are Clues (Aziraphale's voice):

"give me coffee or give me death" - there's such significance to the way Metatron asked the question, it simply cannot be a throwaway line, especially when he later asks Aziraphale "will you take it?" when handing him the coffee cup. He doesn't say "take it" or simply shoves it at him which would be typical of heaven, but he gives Aziraphale a choice (coffee or death) - in other words, Aziraphale makes the choice but under the threat of death (something Metatron knew he would do, because Nina says "they never choose death" and he says "how predictable" ie. he knew exactly how this would go down)

prior to this Aziraphale has never drunk coffee, only tea and alcohol. He doesn't understand why Crowley would drink coffee when he's already stressed. In other words, the coffee itself is forced on Aziraphale - it seems that he has a choice ("will you take it?") but is it really a choice if his other option is death?

At no point does Aziraphale say "yes" - even when he's walking back to Crowley he says "I don't know what to say" - he's nowhere as excited as he pretends to be the moment he enters the bookshop. In fact, the entire walk over (with the Metatron watching him carefully), he's pensive and deeply troubled, almost like walking to his doom (which clashes with the cheery, almost romantic music that plays here, which adds subtext to the situation, that all is not what it seems to be)

Aziraphale's expression the moment the Metatron brings Crowley up and issues his subtle threat ("irregular"); the way his lips thin and he swallows and he instantly knows what this is all about ("give me coffee OR give me death")

Aziraphale's many many looks out of the window after Crowley has left and his repressed grief and outrage that he quickly masks everytime he looks back at the Metatron. I don't think it's just heartbreak and wanting to go after Crowley - I think something else is going on

tldr: Aziraphale chose the coffee Metatron presented to him because the alternative was death (for him and/or Crowley) and he is furious. Aziraphale's comments on heaven and it being good etc. are not because he's still fixated on that ideology, but it's the only way Aziraphale saw them being safe and together (the other option: death). The tragedy is that Crowley saw Aziraphale making an active choice to take heaven over them being together - but he didn't see why Aziraphale was making that choice (and if it was a choice at all). Earlier, Crowley said "What does your exactly mean? I feel like your exactly and my exactly are different exactlys" - the way they have failed to communicate throughout the millennial (as pointed out by Nina and Maggie) comes to a head here - in this situation with the Metatron watching, Aziraphale can't communicate exactly what's going on, and Crowley doesn't understand what he means because they have not properly communicated before what their "together" means - "run off together" vs "we can be together, angels" are not afterall, different togethers - once again, they're trying to save each other so they can be together, but the methods are different and the perspectives are different (ie. Crowley knows about the book of life threat vs Aziraphale knows about the Metatron "irregular" threat and neither knows what the other fears)

[noisycroissant]

Meus Amor (Part 1)

Read part 2 here

SoftDom!Ascended Astarion x Reader

(This was previously called Amica Mea till a dear reader corrected me. Also, I cannot write him as an asshole. I tried, it simply will not materialise 😔)

You could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer to the grand oak door of your bed chamber. The long hallway outside was mostly empty save for a few candelabra and paintings, the entire bed chamber was in a separate wing of the castle.

He'd designed it that way for privacy.

"I don't want anyone else to hear those pretty moans you sing for me, pet," he'd cooed when you'd asked about the odd placement of your chambers, "For my ears and eyes only."

The doors swing open as Astarion strides in. "Come to me, my sweet. I have a gift for you. Took forever for the jeweller to deliver, but I am rather pleased with how it turned out," he says as he walks towards the bed, stripping off his clothes along the way.

He sits on the bed, shirtless, pale skin glowing in the candlelight. Placing a jewellery box on the bed, he takes your hand and pulls you to sit beside him.

"Another piece of jewellery, Astarion? Gods, you do realise I only have one neck. I cannot possibly wear every necklace you've gotten me already!" you tease.

"I thought you'd prefer the sparkling rocks cover up all the ways I've marked that lovely neck, darling," he teases back, "I know you're not an exhibitionist."

Your cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink at his comment. All this time, and you'd think you'd run out of shame but no, his teasing will always have the blood rushing to your face.

"Open the box, I want to see how it looks on you."

You open the box to see a simple circlet of gold on a velvet cushion. There's a clasp at the back. And a simple locket dangling from it.

"I have to admit, this is one of the more tamer pieces you've gotten me," you say, picking up the circlet, confusion on your face.

"You're so going to regret your choice of words, my love," he laughs out as he takes the circlet from your hands and moves behind you to help you put it on.

You hold up your hair as he clasps it into place. The locket is against your throat. The circlet is a tighter fit than you'd thought it would be.

Almost like a collar.

He wouldn't...

"Oh yes I would, because I did," he whispers in your ear, "My gorgeous pet, would you wear this for me? Only when it's just us?"

"What does the locket say?"

"Take a look in the mirror. See for yourself," he passes you a handmirror.

Meus Amor

My beloved

Astarion lifts the locket with his fingers, his face close to yours, "Meus amor, would you wear this for me?"

You take a moment to look at his face. Anticipation, love...and hunger reflect in his eyes. For you.

Your heart flutters as you hear yourself say, "Yes, Astarion, for you, I would."

His lips are on yours the second you finish speaking. A hungry depraved kiss, his tongue stroking yours, his fangs catching your lower lip. You moan into his mouth and he leans you to your back, his knee moving to spread your legs as you lie down.

"You never stop surprising me, my love," he confesses quietly, moving to your shoulder. You feel his fangs prick the tender skin as he says, "I'm going to make you sing till dawn, sweetheart. I hope you're ready."

[lastoneout]

Hey so why the fuck is NaNoWriMo's AI policy page talking like the challenge is about writing a book that you then go on to publish and not a challenge where writers throw caution and their sanity to the wind in the interest of getting a first draft out within 30 days?? Do people usually edit their NaNoWriMo novels while writing them? Do they send them off to friends or paid editors while writing for feedback and grammar/spelling checks? Do they immediately take what they wrote and start pitching it to publishing houses as soon as the clock hits midnight on December 1st??

I've never completed NaNoWriMo but I was always under the assumption that this is a fun challenge mostly for amature/indie writers that's about just finishing a draft of your story at all, it's not about trying to get a book completely finished and published within 30 days?? I mean just WRITING a first draft in that time is impressive, but pulling off also getting it all the way to store shelves in a month?? That's not just absurd it's fucking impossible. No one is doing that.

Like under classism they are saying not everyone can afford an editor...but who the fuck is sending any part of their novel off to an editor or reviewers mid write?? And for ableism, arguing that not everyone can "see" the issues in their writing...it's not about that?? Like Shannon Hale said, your first draft is shoveling sand into a bucket so later you can build castles, if you're worried about fixing errors mid-write you're never going to finish anything. Plus NaNo has never had requirements that your story be polished or edited or whatever, it's just about word count. And focusing on the indie writer scene and publishers??? Again, that's not the goal of this challenge???? You're just supposed to finish your first draft, everything else comes after. Even writers who do plan on trying to get their novels published are probably not sending their FIRST DRAFT that they wrote while sleep deprived over the course of 30 days to editors and agents?? Arguing that some people need AI to make a publishable, edited, polished novel is missing that the point of NaNoWriMo was never about writing something perfect the first try, it's about shoveling sand into buckets so LATER you can build castles. Or idk just shoveling sand into a bucket for the fun of it.

Like am I insane?? None of these arguments hold up for loads of reasons but specifically because if you are doing NaNoWriMo you do not need an editor or reviewers because your first draft is just supposed to exist, adding on the burden of taking that novel from first draft to polished and publishable while also just trying to finish it at all in 30 days is a fever dream, not an achievable aspiration. You don't have time to do that AND write. Hell, most writers in general will tell you to never edit as you go!! Where is this assumption that anyone is doing this to make money coming from?????

(And like, if you do want to go on to look for feedback/editing and try to publish your story and you feel like you need AI for that, you're wrong, but you can do that AFTER the event, that isn't something you need to do while it's happening. While it's happening all you need to do is write. The few times I tried NaNoWriMo I didn't even fix spelling errors as I wrote, I just wrote because all that mattered was the word count. I could worry about the rest later.)

I mean, I know that apparently the team got gutted and replaced which is probably why this shift happened, it's well documented that AI fanatics cannot conceptualize someone making art simply for the joy of creating rather than producing something they can sell for money, they legit see the process as secondary to the goal of getting rich which makes them incompatible with almost all artistic communities, because artists do what they do for the love of the process, not just to have a sellable final piece, but like christ alive I have never seen such a disconnect between what the people running a community think everyone is there for and the wants and needs of the actual people in that community.

Writers don't want AI to write our stories!! Take it from someone who grew up dirt poor and is disabled in a way that makes writing extremely difficult(dyslexia, adhd, hEDS, chronic migraines, fibromyalgia, ect.) I do not want AI to write any story for me. I want to write it. Beating a dead horse here but you are not defending poor or disabled people, you're using us as a meat shield so you can pretend your plagiarism and pollution machine is totally the future~ and take it from me, we're FUCKING sick of it.

From what I remember NaNoWriMo was never about making money for the people who took part, it was about sharing the joy of writing with other writers while tackling a huge challenge. This shift is bullshit for a lot of reasons but it's absolutely bullshit for misunderstanding what the hell drew people to the challenge in the first place.

[emeritusemeritus]

hello !! i adore your work, so i was thinking about asking for a rq about the weasley twins x reader (if you don't like fred x reader x george it's totally fine, if that's the case then fred x reader is just as perfect) where they were dating back at hogwarts or at least have a situationship until she twins leave because of umbridge

and mind you, they did invite the reader to come with them, but she refuses because reader needed to end her last school year (due to her ambitions) and didn't want to leave her younger brother alone at hogwarts with umbridge there

so can you write a scenario where, two years later (NO WAR at all 💔) the twins receive a letter from her with tickets for a quidditch game? from a team they like nonetheless. they go to the game and find out that the reader, who was a hufflepuff chaser back at school, now managed to become a professional chaser and invited them to watch her first game?

pretty please! im sorry if this became a huge text lmao once again i adore your work and i hope you have a lovely day 🌷

Chase Me

My dear sweet Anon, I cannot apologise enough for how long this has taken me to complete for you. Life has been crazy and it’s in no way a reflection of your ask because this was super fun to write. I hope I did your idea justice!! 🖤

Warnings: slight past angst, longing, heartbreak. Happy endings. Reader is a hufflepuff- set after Canon. NO WAR. No mention of mouldy voldy or death. Mentions of Umbridge and her nastiness. Not beta read nor spellchecked.

Word count: 2.8k

"Oi Fred! Mail's here!" George shouts up the winding, wooden stairs as he unlatches the window where an owl was not so patiently waiting to drop off the thick letter held tightly in it's beak. George takes the letter from the gorgeous grey owl and pats it once on the head, frowning slightly when it simply flies away without so much as a chirp.

His frown deepens when he looks at the front of the brown envelope, seeing a multitude of stamps he didn't recognise and very neat handwriting that listed both his and Fred's names with delicate precision.

"Bit early for mail isn't it?" Fred says as he walks down the stairs to the main shop, still buttoning up his shirt with the arms rolled up, his untied bow-tie hanging around his neck.

"It wasn't Easy," George mutters, still examining the letter in his hands, trying to decipher the stamps. 'Easy' was their shop owl, an inside joke of sorts as it turned out once he was purchased that he was just as erratic as Errol once was, leading them through both call out 'easy!' Whenever the bird neared any glass panes or ledges, most notably because he never slowed down upon descent. Plus Fred said that Easy Weasley would be a great name for a pet and George had to agree, though he feared it was setting up a lifelong curse upon any animal that they might acquire, knowing Fred would want to keep the theme going. Easy, Peasy, wheezy, Breezy... it probably wouldn't end there.

"What's that?" Fred asks, noticing the brown envelope in his twin's hands, just finishing up his top button.

"Don't know," George says, still examining it.

"That's because you have to open them to read them mate," Fred jokes, but doesn't get the reaction he hoped for, seeing George too transfixed to shoot him the mock-glare he'd anticipated.

"Does this writing look familiar to you?" George hands Fred the envelope but doesn't take his eyes off it.

"A bit," Fred says with a slight squint as he looks at the neat writing on the front, quite liking the way his name was written in the fancy script. Fred bites the bullet and opens the envelope, his eyes drifting quizzically at the unique stamps on the front.

He pulls out the letter first as it fills the top of the envelope, still feeling other things in the bottom that he could get to later. The piece of paper is folded and heavy, so opaque that he can't see any writing through it.

At the top of the letter, even before he can begin to try and pull it open, is a little piece of card paper clipped onto the letter, stating 'To be read by Messers F and G Weasley of 93 Diagon Alley only.'

They cast a quick glance at each other in trepidation at the unusual literature and Fred begins to take off the card attached to the letter.

To his surprise, underneath exactly where the card had been temporarily fixed were the words 'I solemnly swear...'

Fred doesn't hesitate and pulls out his wand, tapping the paper gently and uttering the words he'd not spoken in so long, but remembered with great fondness and complete recollection.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

The paper immediately begins to unseal itself, the paper opening up like a friendly howler and handwritten words begin to fill the lines that have started appearing on the page.

The second Fred sees the opening line, he knows exactly who it's from, as does George.

'To my favourite jokesters'

"Well bloody hell," Fred says, slightly bewildered by the turn of events as he leans back, resting his hips against the counter whilst he gathers himself. In complete honesty, he's fighting back a ball of emotion at the back of his throat as he takes in the words on the page from the one that got away. She'd been everything to him since that first meeting on the train, the little Hufflepuff who gave him a run for his money both on and off the quidditch pitch. He's been convinced she was the one, his endgame, the love of his life- until his twin had piped up about his own feelings for her.

They made it work eventually, found a rhythm that suited them all, through trial and error and everything in between. They found love, the three of them with her being the rose between two thorns, the center of their world.

No one hated Dolores Umbridge more than Fred Weasley, not even Harry, the entire nation of wizards, witches or any of the wronged mythical creatures. The toad faced witch had ruined everything inserting herself into their school and their lives, spoiling the happiest time in his whole life and putting a rather forceful stop on all the plans he'd made. They'd talked about it since their fifth year, when the plans really started to take off. They'd finish school together, find the money to start the shop and they'd all move in together in the little flat above the shop. Eventually he and George would make enough money for a real house, just like she deserved and she'd be free to do anything she wanted to do, anything all all with the constant support of her two loves.

But that didn't happen, not even slightly. Umbridge had made it impossible for them to stay, she'd forced them to leave and though they did it in a spectacular way that would no doubt be the talk of hogwarts for many years following and a person high in Fred's own personal life- it was also one of the saddest times.

His love had stayed at the school, to finish her studies and to protect her little brother Michael who had unfortunately seemed to be under Umbridge's radar, meaning that he was far from safe. She couldn't leave and they couldn't stay. It was heartbreaking to leave her there, to face the few months alone without her. Everything seemed strange between he and George, always knowing that there was something vital missing. But then the weeks bled into months and that eventually turned into over a year as she got a job right after school, taking her away from them this time. They focused on the shop and on their products, keeping themselves busy where they could so that they wouldn't feel that constant void of her presence but late at night it was hard to deny.

George had taken it the worst and being the older brother, Fred had naturally tried to help him the best he could. He'd purposefully give George jobs to do that would require concentration, to set out problems that didn't have an answer, just so he'd forget about her for a while, but it didn't always work. There was a sadness about George that was never there before, always the happier, gentler and more sensitive of the two, these days he was quite often known as the quieter one too. He's happy, of course he is, he's living his dream and they are successful- he still laughs, jokes and pranks just as much as before but there's always just a little piece of him that is gone.

"It's really from her?" George says quietly, his eyes scanning back and forth over the document repeatedly, as if he can't take it in enough. The tone of his voice pulls at Fred's heartstrings, the sadness seeping out once again.

"Looks like it mate," Fred says, trying to remain calm and neutral though his pulse is a stark juxtaposition to his outward demeanour.

"Two tickets for the Sandacre Sirens, how the bloody hell did she get hold of these?" George asks, seeming to come to life once the realisation sinks in of what exactly is in front of him. He lifts the tickets up to his face fit closer inspection, holding them a little too tightly to be casual and inspects the tickets, noticing that they were really good seats- really really good seats. His favourite team too, though admittedly he'd been lax in his support of quidditch lately due to being so busy with the shop, another part of his old self he'd lost.

George had never fretted so much over what to wear. He grew up in a poor family with little resources and even less care of fashion or quality of being presentable. He was the tallest of all the Weasley's, even a little bit over Fred though it was never mentioned, meaning that for as long as he could remember his clothes had never truly fit him, most of them being hand-me-downs from Charlie or Bill (he'd outgrown Percy by his 12th birthday). Now they had money, he and Fred had nice suits for the shop and a selection of better fitting clothes for the rest of the time but he didn't have a single thing that would be good enough for seeing her again. Maybe Fred would know what to wear...

The crowd was booming, nearly every seat in the stadium filled, with loud chanting and joyous singing echoing around the stadium from both teams. The atmosphere was electric and chaotic- just like the twins liked it. She'd been very vague in her instructions of where to meet or how to find each other and so the twins mutually decided to take their seats, hoping to find her there in the neighbouring seat beside theirs. Only, there was no seat beside theirs, or at least it was just the occupier of the seat was certainly not y/n. Their names were written on little magical signs that could not be removed even with magic, scrawled in her own neat handwriting that flew away like a little bird once the twins prepared to take their reserved seats.

More confused than ever, they shared a confused look, near identical in confusion with eyebrows pulled into semi-frowns.

"Messers Weasley? Your refreshments," an usher said from beside them, enchanting a tray to hover in front of their spaces, filled to the brim with all sorts of delicious treats and beverages-  personalised to each twin. Fred couldn't help but kick his lips when his eyes fixed upon the fizzy bottle of dandelion and burdock and George's mouth watered upon seeing the butterbeer tarts stacked up on the tray, knowing they were just for him.

George squints, looking at the note on the tray in her distinctive writing, urging them to check under their seats. He cracks up laughing when he feels exactly what was there, seeing Fred do the same. Under George's seat was a thick knitted scarf with stripes of orange and purple, the colours of the sandacre sirens, as well as a big puffy keyring and a little commercial sized face pint kit. Under Fred's seat, is a matching scarf and face paint kit plus a ridiculously big hat in the same colours.

They know instantly- it’s the exact same thing they wore to the Quidditch World Cup back in 1994, when y/n was with them.

"Excuse me, have you seen y/n?" Fred asks the attendant, trying to call him back as he prepares to walk away. To his confusion, the usher simply stares back at him with equal confusion before letting out a humourless chuckle as he walks away, leaving both of the twins perplexed.

“To your seats, the match will begin in five minutes,” the announcement sounds out loudly, urging all ticket holders to claim their seats. The twins look around in nervous anticipation, excited for the game but more confused than ever when the seats around them fill up, completely ending their hope that she would appear beside them. Why had she invited them?

The other team flew onto the pitch with a roar from one half of the crowd, each player flying through the magically held banner in perfect synchronisation as they played up to the crowd.

“Oi, look!” George says to Fred with a. Less than gentle nudge as he extends his finger, pointing to one of the large screens directly across from them which had a large message printed onto the screen.

“A warm welcome to our new Siren chaser, Y/n L/n!”

Beside it was a photo of her, slightly older than they remembered but still as breathtakingly gorgeous as she stood with a proud smile, clutching her broom and dressed in her chaser finest.

Just then, a huge explosion of fireworks occurred on the pitch and their attention was dragged away from her photo, seeing that all the players had appeared through the residual cloud of smoke. Their eyes searched frantically, almost perfectly in sync as they tried to find the once familiar form of their love.

There she was. She looked majestic, proud and ever so slightly nervous as she beamed at the crowd, graciously accepting their cheers and feeding off their energy. Her eyes searched the crowd secretively but Fred noticed, seeing her gaze flick between the stands.

Their eyes suddenly met, very briefly, and Fred watched in wonder as she momentarily lost her balance upon the broom just for a second as she gazed upon the two brothers who were here just for her. Her smile widened still as she smiled at the two men she had loved so very much and in gaining some form of composure, she fired off a quick, flirtatious wink towards them before zooming off to her starting position followed by the starting whistle. It was then, Fred reached down and with the pride of a dear old friend and lover, placed the comically large hat upon his head and cracked open one of the face paints, drawing a little flag onto George’s cheek, though he hardly noticed, and then got his twin to do the same- he’d learnt how uncomfortable a full face of face paint was from last time and was not making the same mistake.

“Write her name,” Fred urged George, unable to keep the smile off his face.

After that, Fred could feel George’s tension all throughout the match, even without looking at him. If he sat any further forward upon the edge of his seat, he’d surely end up a pile of limbs on the floor, his entire focus solely on her. Fred smirked, seeing her eyes flicker over to them whenever they could, though everyone else would assume she was searching for the quaffle, or an opening to take the shot- but Fred knew better.

She played wondrously, an undoubted success in her first game with the Siren’s- cementing her newfound reputation of excellence in the quidditch community. Ten points here, ten points there and they were quickly adding up, creating a smooth win over the other team. She was quick, swift and agile, her flying skills incomparable as she made it look effortless- like a form of graceful dance. It was enchanting to watch her, entrancing almost.

Fred almost leapt out of his seat when an advancing bludger almost caught the tail of her broom and whether it was his inner beater or his inner boyfriend, he instinctively almost reached out to bat it away, just as he had done so many times before. She avoided it, just, and had firm words with the beater flying above her who had done very little to protect her as she nearly did a haversacking foul, just to avoid the rogue bludger.

Finally, when neither Fred nor George could wait for the game to be over just so they could see you, the final buzzer rang, the lights in the stadium turning orange and purple to denote the overwhelming win to the Sirens. The roar of the crowd was near deafening as more fireworks erupted around the players who were cheering, crying and hugging midair. George and Fred were instantly on their feet, trying to cheer louder than anyone else in the stadium just so she’d hear, their long arms rising up and proudly holding their scarves above their head. It had been a magical night for Quidditch, and even more so for the Siren’s new chaser. The little hufflepuff chaser turned professional right before their eyes.

It was then, watching her turn directly to the two twins mid-celebration and seeing her smile brighten even further that Fred knew he wouldn’t let this night end with them parting once again. He turned to George, seeing him just as enraptured as he himself felt, and knew he didn’t need to ask if Georgie felt the same way.

Never again would they let her get away.

[hai7ani]

橘 (TACHIBANA/JÚ) haitani rindou

nsfw (smut) mdni

masterlist | playlist

part i / what would you do for love?

You think the summer of 2008 is bittersweet.

You did a lot of things back then -- finishing your gap year after graduating last summer and working a part-time job at a Family Mart in central town. Applied for countless of universities in Tokyo while questioning if it was really what you wanted to do. Experienced your parents' divorce and watched as your father cut ties and left you and your mother alone to pick yourselves up piece by piece. Lost your virginity to a boy you liked a lot and got your fragile heart broken by him after.

Not everything from that summer was bad -- you just don't like thinking about it a lot. There were good times and new experiences; yet the memories of you and Rindou will forever over-shine them and it always gets so awful that you'd prefer not to think about it so often because it only does nothing but makes your heart ache whenever you're reminded of that day and the day after.

A random afternoon in July and the two of you are spending the day kissing each other stupid in his childhood home. Rindou tastes like peppermint and tobacco and you cannot get enough of his lips -- so you keep on kissing him until your lips are tired and sore and he decides to pause for a moment to look into your ocean eyes.

You both come from a small town located in Kanagawa Prefecture. The people living there are warm like summer and were never cold like the winter; families care for each other as their own and that's also how you've come to know these two boys.

You grew up with the two sons of Mr and Mrs Haitani -- just born a year after their youngest and you follow them everywhere they go; from watching them play basketball at the park to climbing rooftops together of random shop lots in town.

One particular activity you enjoy doing with them is having competitions on picking mandarins at the nearby orchard, and you will always hold those moments dear to your heart despite everything else -- because you were never good at picking mandarins but there will always be Rindou beside you sneakily throwing in a couple extras in your basket when the time's running out and Ran is loudly boasting about his basket full of the citrus. And you'll look into Rindou's and notice there isn't anything inside, because what was once in there were now in yours and he ends up having to clean Ran's room for a week as his punishment for not getting any. And the two of you will meet eyes when the older boy isn't looking -- he'll fist bump you, "I got'chu," with a bright, handsome grin and you'll always blush in return.

The boys left for Tokyo as soon as they turned 14 and 15 and they seldom come back home for visits. You don't see them a lot, just during the summer when they spend a few weeks over with dyed hairs and different piercings and when it happens you always get so happy because you get to leave their house after with a few gentle kisses snuck to you in the kitchen while your families are busy chatting on the dinner table.

This summer, you're 19 and Rindou will be turning 20 soon. Ran had just turned 21 in May and it makes you feel a bit sad when you think about it -- the three of you used to hang out every day while fooling around at the park and talking about the future and now all of a sudden they're in their 20s and you don't talk a lot.

The brothers are spending the holiday back home and when the news broke you immediately ran over to their house, your flip flops loud against the tar road and the boys hear you before they see you. You hug Rindou first, Ran next and the older boy says he got you something and you grin brightly at his words. Rindou tugged you behind when he made sure Ran is walking ahead and is not going to look back and he kissed your rosy cheek as a greeting. You giggled into his back and he simply pulled you along by hooking pinkies and he'd only let you go when his parents were in sight.

Then on, you stop by whenever your hands are free and you always bring something with you whenever you visit -- their mother has always loved a good gift and it never fails to have your heart warm and flutter when she pulls you close and kisses your cheek for your sweetness. You brought watermelons today -- Grandpa got a good deal from a family friend and said to take some along and give it to the Haitanis when you go.

Two empty cans of Asahi and neatly cut triangles of the fruit sits in a porcelain plate on Rindou's desk, all left untouched and soggy because neither of you thinks that watermelon is sweeter than each other's lips.

And they're chasing each other -- yours and his. Red, swollen, and a bit purple too from the teasing bites and harsh sucks you give to each other, but you don't seem to care and he pulls you close to his face again to sigh dreamily into your mouth when you sit on him just right.

If his mother were to come up here and ask for the plate back, you're sure she'd scream and yell and hit the both of you when she finally finds out what the hell is actually going on with her youngest and the girl living down the street who have been hiding in his bedroom with the door locked all day. You figure it'd be considered filthy -- you're sitting on top of Rindou who so obviously has a very difficult boner that's needs to be taken care of and you're grinding your hips on it slowly.

He moans when you press down harder and his hands fly down to your waist and he grips your meat tight. He holds and keeps you there and he rests his head on your shoulder.

You think it's a bit complicated between you and him. It's not like you're dating. You're nothing like a boyfriend and girlfriend relationship -- you've never had that talk before. You've never confessed your feelings either. And yet he treats you so differently than he does to the other girl living down the street -- Himeko, who have always treated him nicer than usual. She's nice to Ran, she's nice to you, but she is so much nicer to Rindou and it makes you see red sometimes whenever you spot them both standing in an alleyway and she passes him a bento box she prepared that morning or some handmade keychains she learnt at a workshop in school.

But Rindou will reject them every single time and you'll always get giddy when he walks over to you and ruffles your hair. "Let's go." And he pushes you forward with a hand pinching your nape.

Rindou sends you a gift every spring without miss and he writes you letters sometimes because you've told him before that you don't use the Internet often. There will always be a few snacks and keychains attached in the parcel; sometimes it's box and sometimes it's a big brown envelope. It depends on what he sends but big or small, you don't mind. You don't care. Because they're from him -- the letters are handwritten, gifts are handpicked and his hard-earned money were spent. It is all that matters.

You hide and kiss each other behind doors or when you think people aren't looking. You were 15 when you gave him your first kiss in your bedroom after you both had a little bit too much of his father's stolen beer to drink but he tells you he doesn't regret it the next day. You shook your head with a smile and said that it was never a mistake. You're not too sure if the kiss was his first too, but you remember that he was blushy when he inched closer to your lips and stamped a firm kiss on it. Rindou was 16 when he kissed you for the first time and you always hold it dear to your heart.

Since then, Rindou kisses you whenever he can and you always return it while pressing a thumb into his bicep as affection -- he's told you once he doesn't like it when people touch him there because he is training but he never pushes you away when you do it. Instead, he smirks and wraps a hand behind your neck.

Rindou never does those things to Himeko; he only does them to you.

And it makes you feel so special even though you've never established anything -- you're not exclusive. But he always holds your hand when he walks you home after waiting for you to finish summer school and he carries your bag on one shoulder while your swing your hands back and forth.

You're straddling his lap and Rindou lips part to say something but you're feeling a bit cheeky. You feel like teasing him because he's got a stupid smirk on his face. So you jerk your hip forward just a little and he moans. All the smugness on his handsome face disappears and a mouth-opened moan breaks through his lips so loud you had to clamp a hand over it to make sure his pretty noise doesn't travel any further -- you definitely don't want anybody to be catching the two of you like this right now.

He rests his head on the headboard and half-lidded eyes peer at you. He sticks his tongue out to lick your palm and you wipe it on his shirt with a scowl and he laughs. You're busy getting his saliva off your hand and he takes the chance to admire you -- his pretty girl who he thinks is so sexy right now with a strap of her tank top falling off her shoulder and the hem of it run up beneath her breasts, bun loose and stray hairs framing her pretty face.

And despite the rough and brave demeanour he presents to all the people who aren't you, Rindou is nothing but putty in your arms when he slides sneaky hands under your tank top and squeezes your mounds. You're shy when he fondles them like stress balls and you gasp when he pushes them up a little and squeeze even harder.

Rindou feels as though he's falling in love with you all over again.

But he doesn't tell you that.

Instead, he dips both thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and he pushes it down. He's blushing when the red of your lace is exposed and you're bold when you reach for the condom on his nightstand and put it to his mouth. He takes it as a cue to bite down on the packaging and rips it open. It's torn and you see the condom inside, but you don't take it out -- not yet.

A hand moves down to his exposed dick and your touch is electric when your pointer grazes along the vein running up to his angry tip and it turns dangerous when you wrap your hand around and give it a few pumps and strokes. He moans at the stimulation and pre-cum leaks from the slit and rolls down his shaft.

You think his dick looks so pretty.

You finally let go when you're satisfied at teasing him to take the rubber out with shaky hands and he watches with cloudy eyes as you roll it down his thick length. You drooled a little when you first saw it -- it's big and long and thick and you weren't sure if it was gonna fit. But he kisses your concern away and tells you to trust him -- and you trust him the most -- so you do. And you believe him when he tells you it wouldn't hurt so bad if you relax and let him do all the work.

And it didn't. It really didn't hurt at all when he pushes it in -- just a bit breath-knocking when he bottoms out and you whine into his ear that it feels good when he moves his hips like that. Rindou continues fucking you that way until you feel something funny bubble up in your abdomen -- you've touched yourself before and you're sure every other girl of your age has, but you've never felt anything like this while doing that and it makes you panic a little when it gets stronger and you doubt you can take it anymore.

"R-Rin, feels weird." Your mouth is ajar with soft gasps escaping and you tilt your head back on the soft pillow. He slows down a little to observe your body and control his strength to make sure you're not in pain, that he's not hurting you, but when he sees the pretty look on your face he smiles a little and continues. You roll your eyes back and grip his shoulder tight, nails digging into his skin and he hisses at the sting.

"Got'chu, pretty."

And you let everything go at it. Your thighs feels sticky and wet and you're so tired but you don't care because it felt so good -- he felt so good.

Rindou takes you in his bed again and again that afternoon; bending your bodies in different positions and kissing your lips so sweetly until there's not a single coherent thought going through your brain despite it being your first time because you think it was so magical. He made you feel so good and you know you want to do it with him again. So you don't stop until you're all spent and he loses it -- and by that he means moaning uncontrollably until his mother gets up to knock on the door and ask what is happening inside.

(She doesn't find out.)

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

You sit with him side by side on a bench at the park later that evening after getting cleaned and sneaking out through his window. You're holding a plastic bowl of kakigori in your hands and he's sipping on another can of Asahi despite you telling him to knock it off -- alcohol is bad and he'll become addicted (you say that as if you don't drink as well) but he simply wraps an arm around your frame and forces your head to rest on his shoulder. "I'll be fine." He smirks and you smack his thigh as a warning.

A bunch of young children are running around the playground, chasing each other and giggling happily while you kick your feet in the air and feed yourself another spoon of the sweetened shaved ice. Rindou crushes the now empty can and aims it to the nearby bin -- it circles around the mouth and slowly, it lands to the bottom with a clang and he claps with a cheer.

You knee his butt with a laugh and he bends to pick a wild flower from the bush. "Did Waseda reply?" He asks in a soft voice while dusting dirt off the petals and shuffle closer to you. You lick the spoon clean and blink dumbly when a hand reaches up to tuck your hair away and slot the flower on your ear. He adjusts it with a smile and he thinks you look real pretty like this. "No. Not yet." You reply, a bit stunned from his actions and you grin when he ruffles your hair. "Todai replied, though. But I wanna make sure I have all my options laid out first." And he listens as you continue to ramble about the other letters of acceptance you've received so far.

"I hope I don't make the wrong choice. Can't imagine losing myself studying something I don't like or at a place I don't find peace in."

"You won't."

He lifts your chin with two fingers.

"Look up."

Instead of the bright orange sun and pretty sunset in the sky, all you see is a camera pointed at your face and the next thing you hear is a loud click.

"Hey!" You smack his elbow with an angry red blush and he cackles while shoving the camera back into his pocket. "What? You're pretty. Wanna look at you forever."

"'M not." You fix your hair out of embarrassment from his praise while making sure the flower is in place -- he gave it to you and you don't wanna lose it. It's a pretty one too. "You are. You're the prettiest girl in the world." Rindou says it loudly and you pout when a lady walks past while looking at the two of you with judgemental eyes. But he ignores her and he makes you ignore her too when he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead, hands snaking around your neck and your eyelids flutter at his gentleness. You wrap yourself around him when you stand up, the plastic in your hands tossed at the ground to engulf him in a bear hug. He blushes when he feels your boobs press against his chest but you press your lips on his neck, feeling his quick pulse against them and he thinks he feels a bit more normal now.

"I never wanna lose you." He murmurs it to your ear and your heart tightens a little at it. But you hear some kind of hidden message in his words and you rub his back.

". . . My money is tight, so Tokyo isn't confirmed. Waseda and the others are just options. I also applied to the community college just in case. And you leave tomorrow. If things don't go as planned and I don't go to Tokyo, I'll have to wait another year to see you." Your lips wobble a little when you say it. Waiting for Rindou to come back home every summer was never easy and you can only count on the letters and merch he sends for you to feel closer to his heart.

". . . I'm staying here another week. Ran is going back alone tomorrow." You loosen your grip on him and look up into his eyes to search for any lies and uncertainty in them -- but all you see is sincerity and warmth and love. There's a certain look on his face that you can't decipher, though. You don't know what it means and what he really wants to say but you choose to brush it off when you're reminded that he called you a pretty girl and cup his cheeks with a grin.

"Really?" "Yeah." "Stay the night then. Ma won't know if we're quiet." "'Kay."

Ran stands behind the two of you under a tree and watches with betrayed eyes as you kiss and hug each other under the 6pm sun. He stares down at the taiyaki in his hand and angrily dumps it away in a bin. Ran knew you liked taiyaki. But Ran never knew that you liked Rindou more. And he walks away with that newfound knowledge as a long and sharp knife to his chest.

"Idiot Rin." Ran scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets. "So much for saying you don't like her. Where does that fuckin' leave me?" He tuts and doesn't look at where he's going because he bumps into Himeko on the way back. He looks at her and notice that she's crying, face red with tears running down her cheeks and she brings an angry fist up to hit Ran on the shoulder. "Didn't you like her? Why is she with Rindou?" She yells and pokes a finger into his chest and Ran doesn't push her away. He doesn't call her names when she starts getting violent by kicking his leg. Instead, he lets Himeko release all her anger on him and he can only bite his lip and look up at the orange sky. ". . . Beats me, 'Hime."

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

You wake up at 2 in the afternoon the next day, head throbbing from a migraine and you pat on the area beside. It suddenly comes to you that Rindou isn't beside you in your bed. Though it makes sense, because it is halfway through the day and Rindou has always been a morning person.

But when you look around your room you realise that his stuff is all gone -- the Nirvana t-shirt that was hanging on the wall last night is not there. His metal glasses isn't on your nightstand. You don't smell his cologne in the air. There are no traces of him in your bedroom and you grow confused.

So you trot down the stairs with sore legs and cover your neck with your hands to ask your mother if she's seen him or Ran around. But she simply shakes her head and says that Ran took the first train back to Tokyo alone early in the morning. "Ran dropped by to say farewell. And he also left you something, it's on the table." She nods to the coffee table and you see a box on it. It's a bit big but you nod and look back at her.

"I didn't see Rindou, though. I asked Ran about him earlier and he said that Rindou will be gone for quite some time after this visit. I don't know what he meant by that but the boy looked sad when he said it. Maybe Rindou's already went back to Tokyo, I don't know. Or maybe he won't be coming back here anymore. Beats me. But I wish him the best, though. He's always been a bright kid with a bright future."

You run back to your room before your mother can finish her words and you call Rindou's number. You press the phone to your ear with shaky hands and it goes straight to voicemail. You dial his number again and again and pull at your hair when he doesn't pick up. So you spit it to his voicemail to go fuck himself for leaving you. You tell him that you never want to believe him anymore for lying to you. You cry that you are a fool for loving him. You love him. You loved him. "Don't ever let me see you again, Rindou." And you throw your phone at the wall angrily.

26 July 2008. Rindou was gone.

You went from seeing him every day to waiting for him to come home every summer and to not seeing him ever again.

And you laugh to yourself whenever your intoxicated mind travels back to the moment of you and Rindou in the park 7 years ago now that you're 26 and a working adult living alone in Tokyo. You don't bump into any of the brothers in the city. You lose contact with both and also Himeko.

Summer of 2008 is bittersweet.

And you weren't the only one who felt that way.

٩ ˊᗜˋ reblogs are appreciated & thank you for reading <3

[silviakundera]

I've seen you discuss this with other people but I've only made the jump from J dramas to C ones where it's mostly about romance and are c writers allergic women making the same effort in a relationship or... Granted I've only watched dramas from this year at first I thought it was just historical stuff but it's not it's practically every romance drama will love in spring-snowstorm-love endures-in blossom-double-shenli-royal princess-my boss-our interpreter and so on. If she's not outright treating him badly he's a cirque du Soleil contortionist trying to please her and she's not even in the circus don't they know balance is key to everything? Different dramas should have different bonds it's quite concerning that it's just one thing almost every time I think it speaks to a larger issue or maybe I'm overthinking it

idk what to tell you anon. It may simply be that chinese dramas are not to your taste and that's ok. I tried the occasional kdrama for years and didn't really fall in love with many... Most jdramas don't engage me. But when I tried a few cdramas it was like love at first sight. Something about the stories they want to tell, the themes they explore, and the characters they tend to portay just hooks me. And that's a very personal thing.

All I can share is that as a middle-aged corporate lesbian girlboss... a surprising amount cdramas have connected with me about how they explore a woman who is career focused & has to balance that with developing a romantic relationship and then maintaining one.

And when I'm consuming a romance storyline, what preocupies me is if I find it interesting, if the characters both feel vibrant & dynamic, if I can see how they might work together. Do their broken pieces fit? Can I see a path where eventually they can reach a point of mutual understanding, where both are fulfilled? Do I get their vibe? Do they have a unique vibe? Do I believe they like each other, as people? Or at least, do I see a clear path where they will be/have these things by the end of the story?

That's what dictates if I want to keep watching/reading a romance. Personally, I don't spend a lot of time weighing up perceived effort/favors and needing things to be perceived as "even". I would not want to date a person who thinks like that, because I find that idea stressful and off-putting! 🙈 If the people are happy, then they're happy! If neither feels abused & taken advantage of, if they're clearly content, then I don't need to calculate 'same effort' parity.

But that's just me! Everyone is different. And you don't have to overthink or justify what TV you like or don't like. Maybe cdramas aren't for you. That's all good. But please don't ask me to engage with romance this way, it kinda poisons it for me and makes things a bummer. 😔

I simply cannot say that I share your perspective. For instance, I thought Shen Li was a drama with a great otp who had priorities that did not always align but ultimately they ended up in a beautiful relationship with unconventional gender dynamics and in the finale they are clearly super happy & fulfilled together.

The Princess Royal isn't finished yet but lemme say their love in the novel is EPIC. Absolute one of the otps of all time for me. Better characters than most western historical romance novels I've read. If you look at the small stuff and try to weight who did this or that as a series of transactions, imo you are missing the beauty of how these 2 people took a lifetime of getting everything wrong before being ready for each other - but now they are ready, they are listening to each other and remembering to come back with kindness for each other and moving foward into a bond that's truly beautiful. Yeah, it takes almost the whole novel to get there. But IT DOES. No one loves Pei Wenxuan harder than Li Rong, sees the true value of Pei Wenxuan more than Li Rong, and no one will come to his ferocious rescue like Li Rong. I feel like I could cite 35 quotes to prove my point, it's that clear in the text.

a few of the modern cdrama couples who made me want to believe in love again:

Lighter & Princess - academic rivals to lovers to exes to ????, a drama that snuck up on me and slowly made me lose my mind. Best experience is to be unspoiled and thus surprised about where the story takes you. A long winding road, with some huge dips, before they reach a place where they have a beautiful hard-earned partnership. Makes me emotional just to think about them.

Hidden Love is a simple but beautifully acted tale about a sheltered & gently spoiled girl who falls in love with one of her older brother's best friends. Such a common romance plot but the execution is everything. The characters feel warm & real. FL's bittersweet young love tugs at your heart strings. I was impressed at how they crafted the platonic bond she forms with a lonely young man weighed down by financial & emotional family burdens, which later blooms into a mutual affection that enriches both their lives, and it all feels very natural. You really feel that their lives are immeasurably better by being together. Sang Zhi's protectiveness towards him is so !!!

Vid Rec: Seven by SakinaMv (who I've subscribed to for a long time)

You Are My Glory, which has a very silly sounding concept but ended up one of my fav comfort shows. Beautiful teen girl has a crush on the local school genius and asks him out; he politely rejects her, dismissing her efforts to connect because he can't see what they would have in common. 13 years later, he's a rocket scientist and she's become one of the top idols in china. She's at the peak of her profession but having a tiny PR mishap when caught repping a video game that she actually doesn't play. He's taking a leave from work as he struggles with the economic realities of picking a job that consumes your life but pays like shit. She's looking for help to learn this damn game & cover her ass; she still has his chat ID and he's online with nothing better to do. Once they start interacting, her crush on him returns & he starts to realize that that person he had discounted may actually be that confidant who can walk beside him? My dad was poor scientist who 'wasted' his intelligence following his passion, so I found ML's turmoil especially compelling. [Note: quite a bit of video game playing in the 1st half of the drama (as this is the driver for a celebrity and an unemployed scientist to hang out), then almost none in the second half]

Vid Rec: Stargazing by dramasaffair

Vid Rec: Flashlight by HânAlli (turn on CC)

The Road Home, a second chance romance of 2 people who come from rough home-lifes who fell in love when young but couldn't handle a long distance relationship. Then they meet many years later and try a long distance relationship again. I love me a couple who I can believe just get each other and make each other happier when they are together.

Meet Yourself - a slice-of-life story about a woman whose best friend dies, so she quits her job out of grief to go take the simple vacation that they would talk about doing but never got around to. And naturally she finds herself immersed in village drama and finds a soulmate (big city career woman goes to a small town and falls in love with small town boy is a HUGE american romance cliche, and one I've never enjoyed, so I was surprised at how much I liked this)

Vid Rec - MK916 can always be counted on to publish tons of quality cdrama couple vids

[fuxuannie]

Will you be doing the voice line hcs for all the hsr guys?? I’m high key waiting for welt’s turn HFBBFFHHFHF (also happy birthday!! <3)

↳ pairing : welt yang x gender neutral reader

↳ synopsis : voicelines about his dearest lover ♡

↳ authors note : this one is a little angsty! because welt yang my 80 year old angst bag i love u forever.. and i think i might do them all if people request them all LMAO, the voicelines thing i did for the shits and giggles because i was really lazy one day and needed smth to post ^_^

— About Lover

☆☆ "Wouldn't it be funny if I told you that somehow, the day I had met (name), we clicked like puzzle pieces? Seeing their smile.. goodness, I can't tell you how many times I've felt the old heart of mine race when I'm around them. It's like I'm young and in love all over again."

— About Lover : Odd Pair

☆☆ "I'm sure you've heard the handful of people talking about how odd of a couple me and (name) are. The fact people this late in our age have only dated now, but.. I simply couldn't have stopped the attraction I developed towards them. Not like I could stop it back then either."

— Welt Yang's Troubles

☆☆ "I will not lie to you or myself, but it upsets me quite a bit when (name) gets to go on missions and I cannot accompany them. Not because I am jealous that they go on expeditions and I don't, but more on that I cannot accompany them and protect them."

— Something to Share

☆☆ "People think it's strange that I wear two rings on my ring finger. Though I can definitely see why, my partner does not mind. And if people knew why, they'd either not believe me or think I'm insane. So as long as (name) is okay with it, I will not care with what people say."

— Interesting Things : Meeting Lover

☆☆ "I met (name) after we had finished one of the various missions me and the Astral Express Family would go on. They explained to me that they didn't know why they were so inclined to join us, why it felt right to be by their side, specifically mine. And due to the admittedly blooming feelings I had for them and I began to notice, I wasn't opposed to the idea."

— Against his Lover

☆☆ "Don't make me relive this pain again. Don't let me lose you in this life."

— About Us : In Due Time

☆☆ "There will be a day my relationship with my partner will make sense to you, one day in due time I will be right telling you the truth."

[magnusbae]

I mean, I can't NOT prompt "Emotions are a luxury I don't have time for." with Dreamling 👀

🤘 five-and-dimes

OKAY ADMITTEDLY it does fit Dreamling very well doesn't it—? I was going to give half an hour per piece and accidently digressed way too much with this one..... whoops...? Thank you for the prompt dear 🥰💖

Dreamling || 1,174w || lowkey hurt/comfort but with ~hope

▾▾▾

“Don’t you feel anythi— fuck.” Hob stops, forcing the words back down with a thick swallow. He cannot afford himself to speak in anger, no matter how badly it burns in his veins, no matter how scourged by Dream’s aloofness he is. It doesn’t matter that he should have the right for anger. Dream is simply not a being you could, or should, be angry with if you hope to keep him in your life.

Angry or not, justified or not. Hob wants him in his life, very much.

“Dream, listen.” Hob starts, running a hand over his own face, nails scratching uncomfortably over the side of his cheek. “I get it, okay.” He really doesn’t but this is not the point “but seriously, you do have feelings, I know that you have…” his voice wavers and he gestures at the space between them, unable to voice it lest Dream would flee again. “Please.” his voice strains with the burden of it all. Wanting so much, needing so much—being forbidden from even voicing it, let alone having it.

"Emotions are a luxury I don't have time for.” Dream’s voice is deep, booming, as aloof as it could possibly get. He sounds like he’s reading a ready-made script, like he’s following the lines long since prepared.

Hob recoils, physically takes a step back, wants a distance between himself and Dream’s rejection. He should have expected it, in fact, he assumed he might get worse and yet— “Bulshit.” The short silence that follows is pregnant with tension, both momentarily silenced by Hob’s boldness. Hob is as surprised by it as Dream, apparently is.

Dream comes around first, eyebrows knotting, storms cracking in the depths of his eyes. His lips thin, the corners tug down and then he opens his mouth to deliver what Hob is sure would be either a really bad reprimand or his final words to him.

He cannot have it. If only for the simple fact that he doesn’t only want Dream in his life, but factually needs him. He doesn’t know what’s life would be worth without knowing that in the end of every story there will be Dream to share it with, a confidant, a keeper of his journey.

“I think that you’re afraid—” the words rush out without a thought, he steps forward, hurrying to finish before this would blow out of proportion “—because I know that I am petrified.” The words burn true on his tongue, there’s a dull ache in his chest, his lungs feel too full and empty of air. “I am horrified that you might leave, I am terrified that you might not lo— accept this, I am…” he swallows, his throat is closing with the emotion of it all. He cannot stop, not now that he had finally started. “I get it Dream, I know that you are, that we are… different but…. “ His hand falls by his side, no amount of gesturing would express what he feels.

He runs out of words. He was so certain he had them all when this conversation started, now he can hardly even remember what brought it about. He didn’t prepare for it as well as he thought, he doesn’t know how to word it, how to phrase it in a way that would convince Dream to give this, them, a chance. Damn.

His chin drops and he stares at the ground, burning disappointment makes his hand tremor. He closes his fist.

He is no poet, no storyteller, no writer. He is no Dream to pick and choose the right words. He’s only a man. Only a man who loves a being beyond his comprehension, very, very much.

Fuck, fuck it all. Fuck. He is about to lose him, isn’t he?

The pain in his gut is a twisting thing, like a knife slicing through the guts. Shitty death, he’d know. He dares to glance up when Dream doesn’t speak, half expecting to see him gone. Instead, there’s something softer in Dream’s eyes when he meets them. For the first time, Hob’s attention is drawn to the unnatural void in those eyes, the glint of distant stats. This is…

“Am I…” his mind struggles through the spell of dizziness, his consciousness readjusting its grasp of the surroundings. The shadows are longer, the shapes are bent a little too far, the colors are not quite right.

“I am dreaming.” He understands when he finally sees the landscape for what it is, Dream, for who he is. “Oh shit.” His cheeks color red, he is aware of the incredibly uncomfortable material of the shirt he used to wear some few hundreds years ago.

“I yanked you into my dream, haven’t I.” This is, even more than before, not how he had hoped to confess. Not even close.

“Hob,” Dream’s voice bleeds to every fiber of the dream-scape, infusing it with power, making it feel tangible, more clear, in focus. “You dream very loudly.” There’s an odd note to his voice, if Hob was to attempt and pinpoint it, he’d have to admit it sounds like astonishment.

“Sorry,” he answers, abashed. “I, uh, suppose you can’t just…” he gestures at his own head with a motion that resembles wiping chalk off of a board. “Maybe…?” he adds, hopefully.

He doesn’t regrets his feelings. He would, though, like to at least be awake when Dream rejects him, It feels only proper.

The idea of simply not raising it up at all is one that had crossed his mind frequently, and yet he knows that sooner or later he’d slip again, that he wouldn’t be able to to continue pretending like this isn’t an integral part of who he is, like this isn’t something that he feels.

Sooner or later, he’d tell Dream of The Endless that he is helplessly, hopelessly, truly and deeply— in lov…

A finger again his lips distracts him from his thoughts. “Very loudly.” Dream scolds quietly, wistfully. He sighs then, the weight of it almost buckles Hob’s knees. Dream seems to ready himself, like he is expecting a great deal of suffering and is braving himself for it. He looks exhausted. Worn down. Won over.

Hob immediately dislikes that look, it speaks too much of Dream’s past. Too much of what had made Dream as closed off as he is. Too much of what hurt him so badly. Hob wants him to be…

“Very well, Hob Gadling.” Dream’s words distract Hob from his thoughts again “We shall speak of it further in the waking world, according to your wishes.” Dream looks away into the distance, his finger lingering on Hob’s lower lip, it’s cool. “I must go now, so long.”

He does not sat farewell. Hob’s mind centers around it. Between one eye blink and another, Dream is gone, golden sand scattering behind.

“What…?” Hob’s mind is already fuzzing into an incoherent haze of shapes and shadows, only distantly concerned with what just transpired.

Only vaguely he wonders if he should feel loss, or…not?

[shmichaelmeen]

Nothing could have prepared me for how Season 2 ended. Not even the spoilers.

okay i know that we all make jokes about how episode six is insane, there was even one person who posted about how it's comparable to eating a bag of powdered donuts but the last one is covered in cocaine. and i knew how season 2 ended from ~ the internet ~ and everything and due to some traumatic shit happening in the middle of watching season 2 for the first time, i never finished it. so all i knew was whatever i saw online and i didn't think there was anything much more to it.

but oh BOY was i wrong

watching episode 6 felt like a literal fever dream. I didn't even realize what episode it WAS until my friend (who helped me finish watching the season) pointed it out. and i FREAKED OUT because sooooo much happens in one episode. SO MUCH. i genuinely thought that the whole bit AFTER Jim/Gabriel got his memories back - the Metatron appearing, the kiss, EVERYTHING INSANE - was all another episode.

I have a lot to say about how people talked about the ending versus how it was to watch it and see it for myself for the first time but what i will say is this. i tried to go along with everyone making explanations for what happened and justifying that everything about the end, about the episode, heck even about the SEASON makes any sense but i cannot follow that anymore. to put it simply, there's a LOT there and i don't think at this time we CAN make a nice neat explanation. and that's the whole point. the whole point of the ending, the whole point of Nina and Maggie's ending, is that rarely in life (even i guess in immortal life apparently) is anything simple. when in comes to matters of the heart and Human Emotion, there is never an easy answer. it's messy, and that's perfectly okay. it's allowed to be messy. and that's my approach to trying to analyze season 2. it's okay that it's messy and things may not make sense. it's meant to be that way to represent just how confusing and even frustrating love can be.

everyone loves to bash the miscommunication trope", but why does it work? because it is realistic (a lot of the time, depending on writing of course). it's only realistic that people miscommunicate and that confronting feels for each other makes things confusing and awkward. that's how the ending was written. and i think that's perfectly okay.

as much as i am a Tier 1 Overthinker, this is one time where I'm willing to accept that the situation is unexplainable until we have further information (yay season 3!!!!!!). this also isn't an "anti-theories" post either. i think those posts, as well as all of the "what if the curtains are just blue" people, are trying to hard to be cool and different by not thinking critically about a piece of media when media is designed to be thought about and analyzed. and trust me, i do like entertaining theories, but I'm just staying super open-minded for the time being. if anyone has any niche theories i'd love to hear them because I'm willing to entertain any possible answer until we get the truth :)

(oh and before anyone says anything about how it's my own fault for looking at spoilers, that's not the issues. spoilers aren't the thing I'm talking about. it's people trying to make definitive answers and put together the puzzle perfectly when we don't have all the pieces. not having an answer feels uncomfortable, but that's also the whole point.)

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Welcome to the Drabble-A-Thon!

What is it?

From September 6th to September 15th, I will be offering 1,000-word drabble commissions for $5 through Ko-Fi!

Why is this a thing?

My job pushed back my start date by a month and a half, and I've noticed that my 3-year-old phone's screen is starting to burn out (my last phone lasted 5 years and I am incredibly salty about this). I want to take the week I'm off to try and get some outside work to start saving up to replace it and stay ahead on bills despite the delay. 

How does it work?

If you make a donation of $5 on Ko-Fi, and give a 1-2 sentence description of your drabble idea in the donation note, I will write a 1,000 word* story! The story will be posted publicly on Ko-Fi, and cross-posted to Tumblr as well**. These will be done on a first-come first-serve basis, and I will keep a post on Ko-Fi and Tumblr updated on what number submission I am on. Because I don't know how many prompts will be given, I can't give a firm estimate on when the pieces will be delivered, so the queue will be the best way to see when your request is being worked on! 

*The finished drabble will be a minimum of 1,000 words, if I go over by a bit, that is on me, and just a fun bonus for you! 

**Ko-fi has strict guidelines for NSFW material, and anything rated "Explicit" will only be able to be posted to Tumblr. If you would like a PDF copy as well, please provide an email address to send it to in your message!

Are there any rules I should know about?

First and foremost, please make sure that you read my general commission guide which can be found here. Keep in mind I do not write Sub!/Bottom!Tomura or Dom!/Top!Dabi. If you have a question about your concept that is not answered by the guidelines, please feel free to DM me on Tumblr before donating! 

In addition, please note that 1k isn't a lot of words, so try to keep concepts simple enough to be executed within that amount of story! 

These drabbles also cannot be add-ons to other existing stories. For example, no drabble prompt can be for a story set after the end of Changing Currents, or an exploration of Dabi's time on the streets before Tomura adopted him in A Cat by Any Other Name. These are for stand-alone pieces in order to keep things simple and not conflict with the canon of my existing works! 

Can I donate more than $5 to get a longer story?

No. This is a drabble-a-thon! While you are welcome to donate however much you would like, every $5 only gets one 1k word story. If you would like to donate $10, then you are welcome to put two drabble prompts in your donation note which will then both enter the queue and be posted! Every multiple of 5 is eligible for a new prompt! 

If you would still like a longer story from me, then you can always DM me about setting up a full commission! 

I want to participate, but I want to remain anonymous/I want to be tagged by a name other than the name used for the donation.

No problem! If you want to remain anonymous, simply put your name as "Anonymous" in for your name/nickname, and you can then type your prompt in the message box. You can send this message privately, and only I should be able to read your prompt! 

If you want to be tagged by your Tumblr username, then you can also add that in your message and I will tag you appropriately when your prompt is posted! 

I want to participate but I don't have any idea what to ask for!

Coming up with story prompts can be hard! You can send in 1-2 sentences of your idea, or you can simply send in a kind of AU, a rating, or a kink (or a few of them 👀), and let me take it from there! If you really, really can't think of anything at all, then just send in "Free Style", and I'll come up with something to fill the drabble! This is meant to be fun, please don't feel any pressure!

I want to participate, but I don't have any money!

That's absolutely okay! Please do not feel any pressure to participate! Money is tight for a lot of people right now and your needs, safety, and comfort come first! 

My question wasn't answered here! 

Please feel free to DM me or send an ask on Tumblr! I'll do my best to answer! 

Thank you so much to anyone who chooses to participate! I can't wait to see what stories we're able to bring to life! 

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Charlie's corruption arc ✨😈

aka Broken Crown AU inspired by this post because I’ve been thinking about it intensively. So, I believe Charlie's villain arc would start with a great feeling of relief. Imagine: it's been a week since the final battle; it's been a week when Charlie hasn't been able to sleep at night. Others think she's still grieving, but the truth is different. Every night, Charlie cannot fall asleep because she's trying to cope with the relief she felt the second Adam died. She was the one who at first stopped Lucifer from finishing him, just because killing Adam didn't seem right. But when Niffty actually did it, despite everything, it felt right. It felt good.

After weeks (months?) of looking for a way to stop Adam from committing genocide against her people, after being bullied and humiliated by him, after witnessing how an unjust system enabled his despicable actions while ruthlessly punishing others for far lesser crimes, she finally, for the first time, felt like she had any agency. Just like that, her loved ones were finally safe. They could all breathe again, and all it took was a small act of violence against the person who fully deserved it. This realization changes her. While she doesn't intend to do such things in the future, she can no longer deny that exercising brutal power can be the best solution when dealing with certain kinds of people. This is the very first thing she hides from Vaggie. Not because she's scared of her judgment but because these ideas are so against her own moral values it is simply scary to put them into words.

Maybe I would be capable of killing someone in cold blood. Maybe I'll have to do it one day.

But Adam's dead, so they are safe, right? And she won't ever have to make a choice like that again. That's some reassurance.

And then, Niffty is killed by Lute. Just like that—Lute teleports to Hell by night and slaughters her in revenge because why wouldn't she? Who would have stopped her?

It obviously hits everyone hard—they just lost another friend. But Alastor? Alastor loses his fucking mind. He goes completely feral, yelling at Charlie and blaming her for everything.

What kind of incompetent fool shows their enemy mercy and lets them live long enough to get vengeance? I cannot believe I thought you could be a competent leader. You are just a fucking child. You are all a bunch of idiots.

Charlie goes through a complete meltdown because she knows he's right. If she had the guts to finish Lute or at least asked Vaggie or Lucifer to do so, Niffty would be alive. She's crying, choking on tears; she feels like a hopeless failure, but Alastor does not give her a break. He seems so infuriated she thinks he would kill her. Fortunately, Lucifer and Vaggie intervene. Lucifer puts Alastor back in his place by essentially beating the shit out of him. Vaggie takes Charlie out to calm her down. She insists that if it's anyone's fault, it's hers because she was the one who spared Lute, but Charlie knows that it's a lie. Vaggie would have killed Lute if not for Charlie's convictions. She fails, and she fails all over again, and it seems like she can't escape the evil. It's her responsibility to face it on equal terms. Otherwise, she won't be able to protect her loved ones.

After this incident, both Lucifer and Vaggie insist on kicking Alastor out of the hotel. He's too dangerous, too unpredictable. We can't allow him to treat you like this. We don't even need him anymore; there's nothing an Overlord can do that the King of Hell can't.

But that's not the truth. There's something Alastor can do that Lucifer can't: play the game. And now, grieving another of her friends, Charlie realizes she needs a teacher if she wants to stop pieces.

I have like 0 time to write the proper fic but I had to get these out of my system because holy shit I love coming up with elaborate plots I'm not able to execute. Maybe talking about it will somehow scratch the itch.

Also tagging @purrpleowl because she expresses her interest in this idea.

[average-jedtavius-enjoyer]

One year ago today I finished the most amazing story of my life. As a tribute, I redrew my piece from August last year.

Old ver: here.

song: Dream, by Priscilla Ahn

This is going to be a long rant so be prepared.

I, in all honesty, cannot with any fibre of my being or in any space of my mind believe that it has been a full year since I finished Red dead redemption 2. The effect this stupid game had on me seems to have never lessened, even with the time that has passed since I completely finished it, and for a whole year it has found a very special, cosy little space in my heart which I find it hard to think it will ever leave. Everything about it came to near perfection: The characters, the story telling, the emotions it made me feel, hell even the graphics (which you would think would have lost some of their shine considering I played in 2023, 5 years after the games release) - and yet all at the same time in every person and life it presented to me it was so imperfect and broken that it seemed so real. Everything about it was so real.

Nothing on this earth could have ever prepared me for what was to come when I started playing. In fact, I remember my mindset going into it quite vividly: I remember I was bored one day, and decided to sit down and play 'a silly little cowboy game.' I knew how it would end since I started, but I never knew (and it never quite clicked through the months I spent working through the game) that I would become so attached to each and every individual that I would break down for weeks after finishing the whole endeavour. I didn't know that I would devote so many hours of my life to this game, all for it to end up in shambles - so much so that I haven't been able to pick up all the pieces 12 months later. I was completely unprepared.

I can still remember the visceral emotions I felt at certain points; The time that Dutch left Arthur to die, how Arthur after the fact had to present Rain Falls with his dead son. His last son. Watching Dutch lie to Arthur about the death of his own damn brother.

Seeing Hosea get shot, and Sean, and Lenny - and dear god watching Kieran walk beheaded into camp. Each and every one of these deaths broke me and I can still feel it.

I can still feel the fear I felt in the very last mission, worrying my pretty little head that Sadie and Charles would die - That John (and I) would lose the very last connection to the gang that he had.

I can still feel it all.

I don't know if this makes any sense at all, or if I'm just rehashing the points and feelings of everyone who has played before me - I'm simply rambling, spilling my thoughts out onto the table in the hopes they'll arrange themselves and I'll have some coherent (maybe even fond) thought process related to the completion of this game, instead of just sitting in silence whenever the topic is brought up without quite knowing how to order or process all the emotions that still rage.

Maybe next year I'll come back with something more important to say about the effects this game had on me, but until then just know that this piece of art quite literally touched my soul. It brought out feelings in me I never thought a piece of fiction could.

I miss it.

I miss them.

I miss Arthur.

[snaxle]

you didn't even say it back. kys, i mean. i sent you such a thoughtful letter and all you do is malign me as a fanfic writer, who, even worse, can't even finish her wips. horrible. it wasn't a terrible guess given the demographics of your blog (or so i would conjecture based on halfhearted extrapolation based on crumbs of information absorbed counter to my will through social osmosis here) and the fandom inclinations of tumblrinas at large, though this is a cross i do not personally bear.

the charge levied against me by one commenter, namely that "[you] live rent free in [my] head" is false. a sizable proportion of your followers/mutuals/orbiters presumably are constituted of writers who don't finish their works (many such cases) as well the readers who are subjected to those half finished fictions and therefore cannot concieve of someone who looked at a couple posts, wrinkled their nose in distaste, and cranked out a "drabble" or whatever, closed the tab, and went about their day is out of the realm of imagination of the archetypal tumblrite, weighed down by a dozen half actualised ideas, splotchy faced and writhing around and waving their teensy fat fingered hands, shrieking and grabbing out to be given care and attention and to be nurtured so that they may mature into a finished work.

you may ask me what i am doing here if when i showcase such scorn for the character of the average tumblr user and the answer simply is 1) i don't care i just sound like this as a fixed state of being & 2) im like jane goodall if she was kind of a dick to the chimpanzees sometimes and if she was kind of stupid and insane and wrote screeds to one piece fans online.

becoming a one piece fan is an outstanding suicide prevention measure because it's just one final thing on the list to do forever. so im not really anticipating for any harm to personally visit you, nor do i have any personal stake in your demise or success but instead want for the environment of the internet to be slowly poisoned; first in small, enclosed environments like lonesome, neglected, and dying fish in places as toxic as a never cleaned fishbowl and then maybe, in some rosy dreams of mine, the sea dries up entirely and every whale is beached and terrifying krakens of the sea are brought to light crying and gasping and drying out in the sun and lethal pathogens unleashed when the artic permafrost melts and then evaporates and the sun beats down on all the sea creatures of the world, and bakes them, and the hole where the mariana trench once was reeks of rot for years on end. i wish people could be awful to each other, so so so badly. and you're a perfectly serviceable target, but so am i. i hate you, won't you hate me? why can't all the sisters and the brothers of the earth unlink arms in conjoint discord? if only.

and yet you don't see this vision at all, or don't value it. all this is heaped on you but you toss it aside without regard for the feelings and yearnings of the only anon you've ever received of substance. i wrap my undersized cold black ink secreting heart in some papers for you, crumble it into a ball and hand it to you, and you tag it as suicide bait without even doing suicide baiting of your own. tell me youve had an anon that has devoted 20 minutes to writing you before. repulsive. if it be your will for this to make it to publishing i would like to let the reader know that i would not recommend visiting to future hate anons.

[hkthatgffan]

As someone dying of lupus (it's hard to draw atm due to shakey hands), and is slow with comissions, I never ask for money first, rather than after i finish. And if I don't get it done in 3 months, I apologize and try to give them a free doodle of their choice, no money given to me at all.

Even if I moved slow, I'd always keep them up to speed with what was happening, if I can/cannot do the drawing or give them something small and free to compensate for the months gone by so at least someone gets a little something for waiting.

And if I get it done, then I get my payment (since my health is unpredictable, I like to get paid after. Makes me feel better, to not be paid upfront because it makes me feel better on touching up, asking if changes needed to the art, anything added, etc. Or if my health simply won't allow, at least they'll get something in the end.)

Idk. I just find it rather cruel to leave people in the dark like that. I deal with abuse, awful illnesses litterally tearing me apart, i've lost half if not most my family and had to do artwork or refund/explain if artwork couldn't be completed regardless.

There's no excuse to leave people behind, block, ignore,ghost, and run off with cash.

I've met really rude people in this fandom, and I really wish people would just take five seconds to go "ok here's what's happening, do you want your cash back?" Like it's not hard.

The day of the last few gf episodes, I was in the hospital because my organs weren't working properly and almost exploded my digestive track due to nerve damage,

Yet I still managed to

Let my friends know the art trades will be unfinished and you won't need to give me anything in return (because i always prefer to do them first incase something happens)

Let those who did used to pay me first get their 15 bucks back

All while my insides almost ruptured from gastroparesis 🎉🥳 and my friend died all in the same day i went and stayed two weeks in the hospital desperately trying to apologize for the delay and doing whatever I could to explain my situation and if they needed anything in return/makeup for it.

That's straight up MEAN to ignore and block someone and run off with the cash. There's no excuse.

Even when I was screaming in agony in my hospital bed, I still managed to give a refund or something or talk to the person and not leave them in the dust. :/

I am so sorry you were left in the dark.

OMG, I'm so, so sorry about all you've been through. That is honestly a truly painful and horrible thing to endure I wouldn't wish on even my worst enemies and people who like with you, made me endure some of the worst that I've seen from people in this fandom.

But also you're right. No matter the reason and no matter how long it may be, a person who has accepted a job...be it an art commission or something else, should at the bare minimum, communicate with the person they are being paid to do that for.

The sad thing is that me and everyone I mentioned in my post had been doing things the right way for ages. We gave Kiki-Kit time (more than we should've), communicated to her through the proper channels she had set up, were nice and patient and yet she never responded to any of us. It literally left us with no choice but to call her out...something none of us wanted to do!

That's what really disappoints me about it all. IDC if she was to take another year to finish my commission. It was a non time sensitive comm I just got from her cause it was a chance to support an artist I respected and admired who was going through a rough time and get a personalized art piece from them. But her lack of communicating really has been upsetting. No matter what she was going through, she could have at least made a post or update to us saying things would take time or even just not say an arbitrary completion date and then miss it with months without another update. No one would be mad at her if she just communicated with us better. That's all that this boils down to; lack of communication!

I get upset and apologize if I miss messaging someone back even for a few hours. And I feel even worse if I miss a DM or message sent my way and then see it maybe days later. None of us are after Kiki-Kit or want her to be remembered for this by the fandom. It pained me greatly to make that post. But with all that has come out, it was overdue.

I still believe she can rectify this all if she just responds and agrees to refund or complete comms from everyone still waiting, that's all it'll take. I doubt anyone will wanna buy a comm from her again who are aware of all this, but at least it's better than not responding to people who fucking paid her and are waiting!

At this point personally, I'm getting my money back from her if she does offer it and so are probably everyone else who I've spoken to. It's not something I want to do given the whole reason behind why she did those comms in the first place...but this whole situation has just left a bad taste in us all and quite frankly, we've had enough.

I just hope if or when Kiki-Kit does address this all, she does better moving forward.

[acapelladitty]

can we unpack kinks in your inbox? you seem like a very open person and your blog seems like a safe place for this, but if this crosses any boundaries feel free to ignore.

i think i have a full-blown misogyny kink when it comes to fictional male characters and I feel guilty about that. it ranges from just liking protective/possessiveness to being into straight up noncon and enslavement fantasies. but i am a feminist, i believe very strongly in (and vote for!) women’s rights. i’ve always had noncon fantasies, like since i was a teen, and I struggled with guilt about that tube, but mostly put it in its place.

but now, with this enjoyment of fully misogynistic male characters and yet being so upset at all of the misogyny that exists in the world (the result of the US election have devastated me), I don’t know how to square those things and it makes me feel weird and bad.

I honestly don't mind asks like this but I would say that I can only give my two cents on the subject and I am in no way an expert or the be all and end all in terms of what I think. I'll put my thoughts below the cut xx

In terms of kink, I don't think for a moment that you are alone in having, or wrong for having, a misogyny kink. It's quite common I think and the fact that you have examined it and are comfortable with understanding that it's simply a kink and does NOT reflect your actual views is a healthy outlook imo.

For me, a misogyny kink is very similar to a femdom kink in that it comes down to wanting to have an excuse to release your stresses and hand over power to someone else. The same goes for cnc and non con fantasies. Having someone tell you what to do and how to do it and taking away all those tricky responsibilities and thoughts and needs can be a huge relief to people. Plus, it's role-play, and many people enjoy playing pretend as it's taboo and exciting.

Misogyny and cnc fantasies are a way of going "well obviously I don't WANT to have this person doing all these wicked, nasty and temptingly taboo things to me but how can I POSSIBLY resist when they're just so big and strong and powerful and oh well".

It's a release of shame and taboo in such a way that it just be justified as all part of an act that you and a partner/partners are comfortable with. And that's a key point. All involved have to be comfortable with what's been discussed and agreed upon, the dom has a responsibility of care to ensure that their sub is having their needs met but the sub also has a duty of care to ensure that they keep to the established rules/safe words and are able to support the dom if necessary after any play is finished.

A misogyny kink can be really hot. Having a person treat you like a stupid piece of meat who only exists to be fucked and used is a hot concept and, again, it allows people to melt the world away and focus on their own pleasure and/or bringing pleasure to their partner. And there's nothing wrong with that as long as both parties know what the score is. These kinds of kinks can easily exist alongside a strong feminist and moral standing and people who cannot see the grey areas of such things are lacking nuance in how the world works.