#i might as well of made a full length fic with this LMAO

[celestialulu]

oooooooo you wanna tell me about nalu kpop au oooooooooooo you wanna tell me about nalu kpop au soooo bad

I feel like this is gonna be hard to do as a lot of the things I thought of bounced off of your ideas lol,, sorry if i accidentally stole ur ideas... anyway heres my thoughts on a nalu kpop au (its gonna be a LONG post i have a LOT of thoughts my baddd):

Well first of all I make a pinterest board for most of the aus I think of, just for a general idea and aesthetic and heres the one i did for that !!

(sorry it may not be that great I just needed some stuff to visualize it lol)

-Honestly i'm indecisive and cannot decide if I would personally put them in a group or if they would be soloists. I do think Lucy would suit being a soloist and it has a lot of potential if she were, reasons like her being from a prestigious family could be interesting with lucy feeling isolated and lonely a lot.

-Following the last point, maybe a lot of people in the industry might not really feel the need to talk to her much or have pre-existing assumptions about her and how she would act.

-Natsu (also a popular idol in the industry) first interacts with Lucy at some award show and he knows of her and loves her songs and performances but in that moment he doesn't really connect the dots and realize it's her, but he knows that she feels familiar for some reason.

-They talk a little and Lucy is surprised as she doesn't speak to many people that aren't staff or management and forced promotional stuff. She's a little awkward and she tends to talk a lot and rant because of that and Natsu thinks she's kinda weird (but in a nice way). They're cut off from that and don't see each other for the rest of the evening.

-Natsu realizes it was Lucy a few days later and no one believes that talked with her.

-They become close friends after being tasked to do a collab stage performance together.

-They practice a LOT, of course because they are hard workers but also because they enjoy spending time together and spending time together outside of work would cause rumors.

-The pure tension they have while practicing some of the moves for the performance.

-Natsu getting hit on the head of how attractive Lucy is after they go all out in one of their final practice sessions when shes sweaty, hair completely sticking out everywhere and wearing comfy baggy clothes which she wore for the purpose of practicing. (and also vice versa for Lucy)

-Natsu and Lucy looking hot (and cute) as fuck on a magazine cover photoshoot together.

-And alternatively, Natsu or Lucy looking hot as fuck for a solo magazine photoshoot and the other seeing it and having their own crisis.

-After the collab stage they aren't able to hang out or meet, even though Natsu has tried to on his on accord but his management has to make sure he doesn't, and although Lucy also misses hanging out with him she doesn't want any rumors to circulate and Natsu makes it his mission to try and find her at any event she might also be attending.

-They text and call a lot. Natsu often gets teased by others because of how much he smiles and laughs while texting Lucy.

-Natsu sends Lucy pictures of ANYTHING that has her on it in public. (posters, magazines, billboards etc etc)

-Natsu and Lucy start to hang out again after Lucy accidentally gets a little tipsy at some event and it's a casual event so Natsu is able to be the one to take Lucy home.

-Then starts the secret meetups, them dressing up in disguises and heavy clothing to even travel to somewhere private like each others home.

-Natsu has the most HIDEOUS disguises btw and Lucy tries to act peeved but she can't help but smile at the silly disguises.

-Lucy attends one of his tour concerts, she wears a bright ribbon in her hair she knows he's seen her wear before hoping he might see her in the audience. He texts her excitedly after the concert asking if she was really there.

-Natsu gifts Lucy matching friendship jewelry for her birthday (could be a necklace or bracelet but for this I like the idea of a necklace more) They both wear them 24/7.

-they hide it for a LONG time… like we're talking MONTHS and then they accidentally slip up and one day people find paparazzi pics of each where the matching jewelry is seen.

-Then they get CRAZY dating rumors like it is EVERYWHERE…

-Lucy is freakinggg the fuck out and Natsu just feels bad because Lucy is so anxious, he couldn't really care less about the public thinking Lucy is his gf but he does get it as rumors like this can damage a career and he knows that.

-They keep silent and carry on as though nothing happened and the rumors sort to die down after a while but theres still those odd few people who believe in it.

-Lucy doing a sexy cunty stage performance on a big big show, and Natsu is attending in the audience and someone slyly filmed his reaction where he is very visibly stunned and very confused about his feelings for her. It circulates social media a lot.

-Lucy sees this video but makes herself believe he isn't into her like that.

-Natsu acts completely indifferent to the video so people won't ask him about it.

-As much as most people would act like he doesn't know Lucy at all after the rumors, on tv shows he doesn't hesitate to sing or dance to her songs publicly.

-People notice how much Natsu and Lucy are very comfortable with each other, teasing and arguing endearingly with each other on a reality tv show.

-They start hanging out publicly without caring after this.

-Them writing lyrics about each other in songs, and Lucy is VERY angsty and poetic about it.

-Lucy getting drunk and asking Natsu "What would we be if we weren't this?"

-Natsu thinks she means career wise, and starts to think of what he would be if he wouldn't be an idol. She clarifies she meant them as in their relationship with each other. He can't answer.

-After that, it's a little awkward. Natsu doesn't know if she remembers. She does. But she doesn't dare act like she does.

-It gets a bit more crazy as they are asked to do another collab stage together after the success of the last one. They accept because, yknow, its like the best way for them to hang out privately without crazy disguises and the like.

-As if the last collab performance was bad enough without the choreography being an average dance this one is WAY WORSE. a lot more contact. a lot more closeness.

-The ending pose of the performance is Lucy laying on the floor and Natsu leaning over her.

-One day, they practice for HOURS straight trying to get it right and perfect the dance. After going all out, and in the ending pose Natsu is looking down at Lucy's messy hair and flushed face and her wide eyes. He kisses her.

-They ditch practicing for the evening and end up making out in the dance practice room for a while.

-Their new collab stage gets leaked when Lucy breaks her ankle and carries her down the street fast as FUCK where there's a really close hospital nearby. He feels bad as they have been practicing so much as an excuse to hangout with each other.

-They basically become "official" after that, but still try and keep it secret from the public. It kinda falls apart after pictures come out where Natsu clearly has a hastily wiped lipstick mark on his cheek and Lucy's neck is littered with hickeys.

-People connect the dots with Natsu and Lucy acting insufferable with each other in public, Natsu cheering his lungs out and supporting Lucy so loudly, and Lucy likewise but a little more restrained than him.

-Natsu once went viral for punching someone trying to get too close to Lucy.

-They never officially state they're together but they don't hide it as much after a while and then in the future one day it comes out that they're literally engaged.

-They have the cutest wedding pics ever and Lucy plays a song she wrote about him before they got together at their wedding.

-Then they're happily supporting each other's activities as a married couple, Natsu commenting and reposting everything Lucy posts and being very loud about her comebacks. Lucy is the same.

This is long as fuck and there's probably so many other things to say but this ended up basically being a whole as story instead of odd headcanons this probably makes ZERO sense. my bad. hope you enjoy anyway <3

[hanihazeljade]

Three Compliments

The disastrous day of Timothy Jackson Drake

(HHJ: I AM BACK! A LITTLE SLEEP DEPRIVED BUT NEVERTHELESS UPDATING THIS FIC! AND ALSO THIS FIC IS ALSO NOW IN AO3 FOR THE UPDATE ALERTS LMAO)

Start - Three Weeks

Prev - Three Pasts

Next - Three Sirens

It was such a lovely cold day on the 27th of December. The Wayne Manor was quietly sipping their morning beverage with a dash of bickering from Jason and Dick when a shout broke the peaceful vibe of the manor.

“Tamara Mildred Fox! I swear to god if you are using my lipstick, it is over! ”A loud voice breaks through the peace and calmness of the manor.

“It compliments my skin well.” A high-pitched voice answered back with a snort in the end.

“You are full of bullshit! I am pale as a sheet, and you are a buckwheat! ”

“Fine, it looks good on Pru though.”

A gasp was heard—an overly dramatic gasp. “What happened to bros before hoes?”

“Darling, I will choose Pru over you at any given time and day.”

“Such a lovely friend you are.”

Tim and Tam’s shouting match echoes through the halls of the east wing. After the Christmas Party, some people decide to stay at the overly large house of Batman and to sleep there, including the Fox’s. 

Tam was having a blast going through everything Tim had brought for the wedding. And she still couldn’t believe how much Tim could pack in one suitcase. There are three dresses, including Tim’s red Dior 1999 collection. There is a purple long gown with a high slit  and an olive green floral lace dress, and it was supposed to be floor length, but Tim made some adjustments to make the length to his ankle.

And with those dresses brought out from Tim’s suitcase, Tam wanted Tim to model those dresses, and with the help of Cass, who got wind of the situation in Tim's room, dragged Stephanie with her, and they decided to make Tim a mannequin.

Tim wants to say that he hated being dressed up and painted, but that was a big fat lie, as he was so relaxed having someone else to do the styling of his face and dresses. 

The night was such a beautiful memory for Tim, but the morning was not. It started when Tamara Fox decides to steal Tim’s favourite nude lipstick and decides to use the shade that looks atrocious with Tam’s skin colour. Colour Theory apparently. 

And that is how they got into their shouting match, with Tam and Tim laughing as they went out of manor to go shopping—what Tam said when Bruce asked where they would go. And that is a lie. Tim and Tam would go separate ways once they went to Wayne Enterprise. Tam would have her date with Pru; Tim is invited to hang out with them, but Tim rejects the idea of being third wheel. So, Tim just dropped Tam to be with Pru and will just find ways to entertain himself.

But it seems fate decided to spoil him a little when he saw Lex Luthor in the lobby of Wayne Enterprise and who Tim was to not grab the chance to mess around with his ex-archnemesis when it came to business back when he was the largest shareholder of Wayne Enterprise.

“Lex! It is so nice to see you here in Gotham!” Timothy greeted the bald man. Lex looks at him; a little bit of surprise and also amusement can be seen on his face if you know where to look.

“Timothy Drake, finally, someone that uses their head.” Lex grunted as he left the front desk and walked towards Tim. Timothy Jackson Drake to Lex Luthor is always has been a thorn in the side of LexCorp. However, Timothy Drake once was Wayne, is a refreshing sight in the business world. He might look young however has an mind of a veteran businessman. Lex was jealous of Wayne because he has the young Timothy as an heir and actually regret not snatching the young man when it was rumoured that Timothy left the company to hand it over to the youngest Wayne.

Lex might actually just have an heir if he just talked Timothy using this opportunity, Wayne already has a chance and yet he threw it away to the window, and who is Lex to not take that opportunity to have a wonderful and brilliant man to be his heir. And Conner and Tim has got along back everytime they met before.

Timothy immediately picked up Lex’s bad mood, “Why you seem so… annoyed Lex?” he asked the man.

“There has been a complication in scheduling for Wayne. It seems like they double-book, and I have to wait for yet another week.” 

“Want to have a coffee with me?” Tim proposes; after all, Timothy Drake and Lex Luthor have a rather pleasant relationship in terms of business appeal. Yes, they had a love-hate relationship when it came to stopping the other one from step into their territory, but it seems like Damian let Lex have reign in Gotham. A dumb decision in Tim’s opinion.

“Sure, since I am stuck here in this forsaken city without Mercy.” Now, normally Lex would not accept any invitations of anyone. But this city has been keeping up in it’s name and Lex has not anything going to his plan. Meeting Timothy is a nice surprise.

Timothy looked around and sure thing, Mercy, the bodyguard/secretary, is not with Lex. “Oh yeah, right. Where is Mercy?” he asked and he held out his arm as a gesture for Lex to follow him.

Luthor walked with him before answering, “She’s in the hotel, after she dropped me off at the Wayne Tower.”

“She needs to do something there? I barely remember seeing you without Mercy by your side.”

“Yes, she said she will handle the packing and as I have a flight to catch up in Rome.”

They arrive at the coffee shop and Tim ordered, “One banana soy frappe with a shot of espresso and extra whipped cream, and what is yours Lex?”

“One regular medium roast.” Lex curtly said and Tim just shrugged, internally judging the man to have such a basic palette. 

Timothy looked back at the cashier, “And one regular medium roast, please.”

“That will be $21.17.” The cashier said and Tim gave him his card and swipe it to pay both coffees. “Name please.”

“Timothy.” Tim said and lead Lex to a empty two seat table.

“It’s been so long since I saw you, Timothy.” Lex pathetic excuse of an ice breaker but Tim would not judge. Well, not openly, at least.

“Need peace with this city. A weekly prison break will not help me with my condition.” Timothy joked and chuckled.

Lex raised his brow, “I did not know you are sick.”

“Well, no. I am not that sick, just… burnout, I guess. My therapist told me that I should let go once in a while.” Timothy said as he tried his best to explain but also not give too much information to Lex, who knows what will Lex will do about it.

“You are seeking therapy?” Lex looked at him skeptically.

“Oh yes, apparently I was borderlining psychopathy and depression, apparently and I can’t have that.” Tim said as he knows it might be an information that a few knows, but he wants Lex to suddenly just slip it out if he was with the Waynes and just saw the chaos it will ensue and Tim would not be here if that happens.

“It seems like you did change. You are more free to said what is in your mind. Not unlike when you are handling Wayne’s company.”

“And here I thought, you hate that about me.”

“And I always told you that it was a likeable attitude of yours.”

“Hmm.”

And they let silence and the background to fill it, and then Tim’s name was called.

“Want to play chess?”

“Sure.”

[thecoolerliauditore]

There was like, a very brief period where there was a few 'jimmy cheated on scott' fics. I guess I know why now. Personally it makes me uncomfy for two mains reason: 1) Its a wholly made up scenario just to make Jimmy the toxic one. 2) I can really only personally see it as a Scott narrative. You know, That Type of Ex who says 'no' when someone says they want to break up. (And 3) they tend to tag the cheating ship as the ship and personally it's a bit upsetting to be looking up a ship and get a fic where they're cheaters and its all about this other character overcoming them, but that's a personal ick thing and they are using the tagging system correctly technically, its more a problem with there being no way to differentiate those types of ship tags from each other. It's just a bit personally upsetting to see a fic tagged with your ship and also 'happy ending' but the happy ending is them falling apart and unhappy which makes the cheated on party happy with no warning that's what it meant. Rambling, sorry...)

I think if you wanna interpret Jimmy as toxic y'ought to focus on the post-relationship period (honestly I feel this way about fh in general, nothing in their brief time together is nearly as interesting as their time after reacting to their ex to me) cause you could make a case for Jimmy being unnecessarily hostile and not wishing Scott well at all. (This I think works best if the relationship was toxic cause then you have a guy going to the opposite extreme in reply to a bad relationship, but works just as well Jimmy being That Ex that always says their ex was crazy that Scott also play in DL)

Personally I don't think there's a good faith way to dig into the thing Jimmy might have done wrong while ignoring the more obvious things Scott did wrong, but exploration is the point of fanfics and AUs. And I've read fics where people make Scott out to be Jimmy's only supporter in DL while everyone else bullied him and completely rewrote entire scenes to make Scott the hero, so you know, clearly a market for rewriting Scott's character specifically.

But my go to for toxic Jimmy in the context of fh is him being neglectful. Jimmy's always been half-hearted about the dynamic, including reframing it in his e1 pov, I think it isn't much of a stretch to elaborate that into full on getting into a relationship he wasn't enthusiastic about to begin with and the few things he does to contribute being token gestures. Maybe Jimmy tends to think the worst of the things Scott does and assume he's being condescended to (I think this works especially well if you want to make one or both autistic, cause it's very easy to read Scott's tone as such if you aren't on his wave length and Jimmy is very easily offended especially later on). I think maybe some wouldn't like that just because it requires having Jimmy not be enthusiastic about being with Scott, though.

If you interpret Scott as Aro and Jimmy as Ace, also, you can make an argument for them just doing all the wrong things and that building up resentment between them where neither want to do anything the other wants to do and that barrier of miscommunication only growing until it collapses in on them both.

But yeah, I personally have trouble not making both of them toxic if Jimmy is going to be toxic, but again most exploration fics focus in on one thing, so...

^^^for the other anon

I actually don't read much fic but yeah this makes sense to me. FYI i think the "cheating" read comes from people interpreting him and Scott as not fully broken up during the events of post-3L because there's never really a formal "we're not together anymore" announcement. But yeah looking for something for your ship and having it turn out to be a cheating fic is WILD LMAO

I don't vibe with a lot of this because I'm not fun BUT the aro scott/ace jimmy part is awesome I'm glad that seems to be catching on.

[stickyspeckledlight]

HAPPY ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO THIS BLOG (and oooo follower appreciation event too and giveaway/raffle; below in the read me bc I'm gonna force y'all to deal with my sappy sappy words first <3)

(don't bully me my art is shit)

Like. Wow. I can't believe this blog is ALREADY ONE YEAR OLD (well, 1 year and one day old, tho technically it's even older since it's just a reblog ACC converted into my writing blog---but I'VE ONLY BEEN WRITING FOR IT FOR A YEAR AND ONE DAY, SO THERE), and how many ppl have gathered here

But seriously, I can't believe how many people actually enjoy my fun lil drabbles (wdym 30k is a drabble---) like fr ppl tysm for enjoying the shit i cook like *blushes* I'm so happy we can all be fucked up freaks together UwU. others may look at us an think we're pineapple pizza, but they're ignorant. in reality they are the pineapple pizza. and yes anon who keeps sending me pineapple pizzas to my house (fabricated) i will come for you, I'm just very busy baking pineapple pizzas to stuff you with when your time comes. the grim reaper thinks it's a bit excessive, but i don't, so that means i am a perfectly reasonable and sane person.

I'd been wanting to write yandere fic for awhile, but never really did anything until last year on the good ol' march 23rd when aventurine made me simp so hard that i finally wrote yan fics. and since then tbh its a bit silly to say but life kinda feels a lot better knowing that I've a community to share these lil drabbles (stop calling them drabbles oml) with, yknow. its the small things <3

seriously, im so awed at how many cool ppl I've met since starting this blog. from the anon who sent me pineapple pizza, the anon who sent me banger comments abt destroyed onset, the anons who give me cardiac arrest, the anon who asked me how my corpse was doing, and literally every single anon who plays along with my bullshit (anon who sent sunday outfit ask I promise I'm getting to answer it but ngl everytime i try to i just end up cuddling into my own blankets thinking about how cozy sunday's outfit is---look if i read abt cozy things then i gravitate towards cozy things ok)---tysm for giving me a giggle! all of your comments and the things you send into my inbox are the absolute highlights of my day.

So, to show my appreciation, instead of working on Destroyed Onset 4 and 5, i will instead be doing.

COMMISSION RAFFLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (3/24/25 - 3/28/25)

it's quite simple. just follow my blog (new followers are welcomed ofc) and reblog this post, preferably with something stupid so i can laugh at it and maybe make a meme out of it. in fact you know what if you do then I'll double draw you into the raffle. see. I've given y'all an incentive now. REBLOG WITH STUPID SHIT IF YOU WANT TO BE ENTERED TWICE INTO THE RAFFLE. IS THIS FAIR? IS THIS JUST? IDK BUT IT SEEMS FUNNY SO IMA DO IT LMAO. what are you going to do, stop me? ha, puny mortal. there is no stopping me now. because I'm having a good time, having a good ti---

once you're entered into the raffle, i'll draw some names and reward the following:

ONE person gets a full-length fic (somewhere between ~2-5k words)

ONE person get a shortfic (so up to ~1-2k words)

TWO people get a drabble (~200 - 500 words)

(but tbh knowing me all of these might end up way longer then i intend them to be---we'll see lmao)

This will run from TODAY, March 24th, to FRIDAY March 28th. One Friday passes, the names will be locked in and I'll DM the winners to discuss commission details.

As for requesting/commission rules, they're on my main page under 'Other Stuff' (alongside the tag guide). But since these are commissions, I'll add that I'm perfectly willing to write OC or Self-Inserts. I will not write non-yan fics though, just because tbh I have a really hard time writing pure fluff; like, it's not that i can't write fluff, but after a bit it's hard to resist the urge to insert something that's at least A LITTLE dark or angsty, lmao. But also just cuz this is a yandere blog, I'd like to keep my writing focused on yandere

Note: Commissions will be private, unless the commissioner gives me permission to post

With that, thank you!

Oh, and for the people who end up getting the above prizes, I might give y'all some participation memes. Just like. Compensary. You don't get fic but you get a lame semi-mass produced speckled meme

[sapphire-weapon]

@marashi96​ I’m sorry 😭😭 I’m trying to find a good tone and setting for them, but for some reason, I just can’t get it to come out right. Again -- it’s an issue of me needing to sit down and read a book, because it’s been a while and I’m out of practice, but. I haven’t found the brainpower yet to sit down and work at any of this stuff.

I’ve been thinking about maybe asking for you guys to send requests into my inbox and see if that sparks anything? No guarantees I’ll actually write what’s sent in, but mmmaaayyybe could help? Was also thinking about just writing tiny short little snippets of scenes for practice, which might be easier than jumping into a full-fledged fic.

Because, yeah, I’m 2 for 2 on starting something for them and abandoning it. As much as I’d like to think I’ll go back to at least one of them, I realistically don’t think that I will. I just can’t seem to find a story I’d actually want to tell.

What I can do in the meantime is share at least a part of one of the fics that I’ve most likely abandoned? I don’t know if this will actually make it better or worse, but.

Here’s a scene. That I wrote. That’s part of a bigger piece. But I’m not going to share everything in this fic that I’ve written because it’s not finished or even really fully thought out at all. But this is a scene!!

It also isn’t really edited or proofread, so, like. Be nice. LMAO

~

"When we do get home," she said softly, "what's the first thing you'll do? After taking a shower and sleeping for two weeks, I mean."

"Good question," he said. "If I had to guess? Probably… get a fire going in my fire pit in my backyard, and sit back there with a beer and a burger."

"And I'm invited to that, right?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "Always."

His answer came out so easily and with so much confidence that, for a second, she almost believed him. She certainly wanted to — but, deep down, she knew better. She knew that once this mission was over, the two of them were going to fall back into the normal routines of their lives, and their paths would probably never cross again. Leon would disappear from her life, and he'd take all of his gentle touches and untold stories with him.

The mere thought of it made her want to start screaming and never stop.

Ashley finally looked down at the way their hands were entangled and tried to ignore the empty sorrow that was welling up at the center of her chest. It seemed stupid to grieve the loss of someone who was still sitting right beside her, but here she was.

She looked up at him again and gave him a sad smile — and, a second and a half later, leaned over to plant a deliberate, lingering kiss on his cheek.

"You're very sweet," she said quietly against the line of his jaw.

It wasn't lost on her, the way his shoulders tensed and his chest shuddered on his next exhale -- and yet, Leon made absolutely no effort to pull away from her or discourage her behavior, so Ashley stayed right where she was. She remained in his personal space, far beyond the border of his shoulder. Her lips hovered mere scant inches from his chin -- close enough that, if she'd tilted her head back just enough, she could've bumped noses with him.

As her gaze flickered upwards, she noticed the way his brow was furrowed — saw that he seemed unable to look her directly in the face — noted the way he kept his eyes downcast and half-lidded in an attempt to hide whatever he was feeling. Yet, still, he didn't pull away. Still, his hand remained curled around hers.

It was then that she finally realized: it wasn’t paranoia or overprotectiveness behind Leon’s gentle, too-long touches. 

It was longing. It was loneliness. It was a desperate desire for a real connection with another human being, no matter how brief.

Her heart ached for him.

Ashley turned her attention back to Leon's eyes. They were still turned downcast, as though he was searching to find some form of answer to a question still yet unasked in the curve of her chin or the length of her neck. It felt almost like he was afraid that if he moved too much in any one direction, the spell would break, the moment would shatter, and it'd all be lost to him forever.

Well. If it was to be her choice, then, it was an easy one for her to make. 

Letting her eyes slide shut, Ashley closed the very short distance between them and pressed her lips against his.

Leon returned her kiss immediately, tilting his head slightly and leaning into it with an enthusiasm that shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did. He finally removed his hand from hers in order to settle his palm against the side of her neck instead. From there, his fingers weaved their way into her hair and lightly cupped the back of her skull in order to hold her in place, right where he wanted her. Ashley returned the gesture, reaching across his chest to lay a hand at the nape of his neck, pulling him ever closer.

[kohakhearts]

7, 9, 12, and 33 for the fic writers questions!

thank you!! <3

7: any worldbuilding you're particularly proud of?

i mean, the obvious answer is asld. i put blood sweat and tears in that world, lol. but since these questions are technically about fic, i've gotta shout out sinner's serenade. i don't think making mahiru a siren was really my idea, but god it worked so well and going back and reading this fic like...i did some really cool and fun things with the world. it's so obviously removed from canon in a lot of ways, but the nods to canon work really well, and tbh the whole dynamic between guren and shinya and mahiru like...that wouldn't have worked for any other characters, lmao. like the au is just such a love letter to all the things i loved about these characters And It Shows. 16 year old me made some points!!!!

my other answer is mors tua vita mea, because let's be real - hp is RIDDEN with plot holes, and i think i did a really good job of patching those up. will the fic ever see the light of day? idk. unfortunately i don't do a lot of writing for the fandom anymore, and i didn't want to post the first fic until the first three books were finished. but i've wanted to do my own full rewrite since i was like...14, so it'd be a shame if all my hard work on that never got out tbh :') (i think i did some pretty galaxy-brained stuff to explain soul magic and horcruxes...since the small amount of explanation in canon are bad and stupid<3)

9: how do you find new fic to read?

ok i admit, i...mostly don't. i go through periods where i read a LOT, and in those periods i'm usually looking for a very specific kind of content and i will use every ounce of researching knowledge i acquired at the stupid top 30 university i attended to find it. and then i don't read anything for like, six months. i try to keep up with my friends' fics when i can, but i am very busy and a very slow reader (and on top of that, very unaware of the passage of time lmao. so if i've ever promised to read anything...just know i wasn't lying. i just might take a year ot two to get to it. i WISH that were an exaggeration lol)

thinking about it though, when i was younger and not like. a full-time student with a job and groceries to buy and rent to pay and all that shit, i generally found fics via recommendations (if the fandom was big). if the fandom was small, i'd just sift through the entire relationship or character tag until i'd read everything. wish i could go back to that tbh. i was living the life when i wasn't too exhuasted to use more than 5% of my brain at a time for leisure activities like reading fanfiction :')

12: are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

i don't know why but this is always such a hard question for me to answer??? i think it's largely because i have an awful memory but also like...i'm pretty much willing to give anything a try, idk. all i can really think of is that i used to categorically refuse to read a/b/o but now sometimes, if it's all there is...i can accept it. but it's still not really one i enjoy.

33: if you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? is it different from your ideal chapter length to read?

i am a very long-winded person in general and that definitely tracks into my writing. that being said, when i'm not like...actively trying to make them a certain length, my fic chapters tend to be around 6k-7k. which is not bad imo? that's pretty average i think? but i also firmly believe that things like chapter length are really relevant facets of style. i've written things with chapters all less than 1k words and things with chapters that are 25k words. it all depends on the story! so for that reason, i don't really have an ideal chapter length as a reader. as long as it feels well-paced for that specific story, i'm good with it.

questions for fic writers

[the7thcrow]

just in case | hhj

pairing: hyunjin x (gn) reader.

wc: 8.6k

genre: fluff. angst. suggestive. romcom. office au. valentine’s day au. coworkers to lovers. slight enemies to lovers.

warnings: alcohol, heavy making out, a both snarky and unreliable narrator, all around just inappropriate behaviour for a workplace (but what else would you expect from an office au lmao.)

summary: your valentine’s day plans of bad cable and a bottle of wine take an unexpected turn, as when leaving the office you witness a completely different side of your least favourite coworker, hwang hyunjin. perhaps valentine’s day really does hold a little bit of magic.

a/n: this is so disgustingly late, frankly i’m ashamed. but life and such, you know how it is. this is for the sweet treats from skz event hosted by @districtninewriters. hope you all enjoy, and i’d recommend checking out everyone else’s works!! also i lowkey resent this fic for how long it has taken me, so i hope it’s okay.

Sunday’s are the worst.

With the office being full of coworkers hungover and regretful from the previous night’s little escapades, as well as consumed by the dread of being forced to work during the weekend, the air always seems to hang a little lower on Sunday’s.

Of course, today is no normal Sunday. Not at all, and it is apparent in the excited buzz and extra chatter that fills the office with a tad more enthusiasm than annoyance.

No, today is no normal Sunday, but rather Valentine’s Day.

Which depending on exactly who you are and the activities you have planned for the evening, could either mean that this particular Sunday is slightly better or worse than average. For some, it’s a night of romance - budding or long-term - of roses and chocolate and candlelit dinners, of longing glances and playing footsie under the table.

While for others, it’s nothing special, no significant other to share the night with, and the giddy attitude that fills the air is only slightly nauseating.

You are a part of this latter.

It should be made clear that you don’t hate Valentine’s Day. Frankly, an extra night just to celebrate the love in a relationship is really quite sweet, and you are not such a killjoy as to rain on other’s parades.

However, that doesn’t mean you can’t hate the way that people in the office treat Valentine’s Day. At least a little.

This particularly applies to Gahyeon, who is now peaking over your cubicle, a far too cheery smile on her face.

“Any plans for the night?” She asks sweetly, expression innocent, although you’re fairly certain she already knows the answer.

“No,” you say shortly, before realizing that might be too blunt, and frankly, a little rude. “Nothing tonight. You?”

“Felix and I are going out for drinks later,” she replies, a faint blush lacing her cheeks at the mention of her fiance. You’ve met Felix a few times, the blonde sometimes opting to come inside when picking her up after a later shift. He’s nice. Cute. A well-suited match for her, based on the very brief conversations you’ve had with him.

“We’re going to Dominique’s,” she adds, and you manage to refrain from letting your surprise show. Felix clearly has expensive taste, although you suppose the ring he gave her two months ago was already a pretty obvious indication of that.

“Well, I’m sure the two of you will have a good time,” you offer, returning to face your computer screen, assuming that the conversation is over and you’re free to return to your work. However, this is not the case, as Gahyeon continues to stare at you from over-top the cubicle, chin resting over top of her crossed arms.

“I got you a gift,” she says, causing you to twist your chair to face her once more, raising an eyebrow. She disappears back into her own space, searching for whatever she wishes to give you.

“Here,” she calls out, before once again popping her head back up into your line of sight. She has a gift bag in her hand, one that is so narrow and tall in length you already have a good idea of what it might be.

After taking the bag, you find your assumption proven correct, as you pull out a rather hefty bottle of wine.

You stare at the gift, before flickering your gaze back to Gahyeon. It’s not that you don’t like it, in fact, it’s your favourite brand. Even a tad more expensive than you typically let yourself reach for, unless for a special occasion.

You’re more so just confused as to exactly why Gahyeon would be giving you a bottle of wine, on Valentine’s Day none-the-less.

Her smile falls slightly. “Do you not like it?”

“No!” You rush out, quickly changing your bewildered expression into a smile. You certainly don’t want her to feel bad for getting you a gift, however strange it might be. “I mean, no - but not no as in no I hate it - sorry, yes. Yes, I like it. Thank you.”

She smiles again, and you let yourself relax slightly, taking a breath. “I’m more so just a bit lost,” you continue, examining the bottle once more. “What is this for?”

“Well, I assumed for drinking, although I guess that’s ultimately up to-”

“Gahyeon.”

She sighs, eyes softening with what you can only recognize as pity, “Well I don’t know,” she begins, before trailing off. “I just… Well, I just figured someone should give you something nice. I mean it’s Valentine’s Day after all, and well, you know.”

You’ve been doing a rather decent job at managing your expressions thus far, but your jaw falls open at the statement.

You’re a rational person. You’re certain she meant well by this, and it isn’t something cruel or a mocking jab at you.

But the fact of the matter stands that you never even told her you didn’t have a date for Valentine’s Day. Sure, you didn’t tell her that you did have one, but you made no indication for the opposite either.

And the audacity of the assumption - let alone the fact that you’d be so torn up about it that you’d need to drink your feelings away - is enough to render you momentarily speechless.

You open your mouth, unsure of what you can even say to such a statement, when fortunately you find you won't have to, as someone approaches both you and Gahyeon.

However, it quickly becomes unfortunate as you realize who it is.

“Oh, hi Hyunjin!” Gahyeon says sweetly as the man approaches. You discreetly slide the bottle of wine back into the gift basket, hiding it behind your chair. The last thing you need is for him to see it.

It should be made clear that you don’t hate Hyunjin.

He’s just… a little irritating.

Okay, maybe a lot irritating.

A tad arrogant, ego far too large for just one person. Sure, even you must begrudgingly admit the man is attractive, with long golden hair and striking features, but he would be a lot more attractive if he didn’t act so high and mighty about it.

He’s also a bit snobby, most of this deriving from when Chan was promoting people in your division a couple months ago, and he chose him instead of you. Not that you care, obviously. You both deserved it, both rather talented in your area of expertise.

Even if you have worked here for two years longer and have put in almost double the hours of overtime work.

But hey, who’s counting?

Not you, of course, because you don’t care enough about Hyunjin to really worry about such things.

He’s just a little annoying, that’s all.

“Hi, Gahyeon,” he says, plastering on as equally as sweet of a smile as the one she is wearing, before his gaze momentarily flickers to you, and when he speaks his tone is disinterested.

“Hey,” he says shortly, before immediately shifting his focus back to your coworker, and you can’t refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Who are the chocolates for?” Gahyeon asks. You hadn’t noticed it before, but Hyunjin holds a box of chocolates in his hands, bright red, gigantic, and in the shape of a heart.

A little cheesy, but you digress.

“Oh,” he says shyly, shifting his gaze away in an attempt to play coy. “Um.”

You know the bashful display is entirely fake and undoubtedly for attention, but Gahyeon eats it up, holding a hand to her heart as if moved.

“Aw, for a secret admirer maybe?” She guesses and when he laughs at the idea, she tries again. “Or a big date planned for tonight?”

Hyunjin chuckles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, and you resist the urge to gag.

Alright, maybe Valentine’s Day does make you a little extra cynical.

“Something like that,” he replies finally, before clearing his throat and changing topics. “But Gahyeon, the reason I actually came over here was to remind you that I need the numbers for the WENUS. So just swing by my office before leaving tonight, okay?”

“Of course!” Gahyeon says, giving the man a thumbs up as he begins to make his exit. However he stops for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to meet your eye, a smirk sliding across his lips.

“Enjoy the wine,” he chirps. You open your mouth to heckle back - something sharp and witty, you figure - but he’s already gone, disappearing around the corner and back towards his own office.

You glance over at Gahyeon, prepared to give her a half-hearted glare. She knows full well about the little tug-of-war relationship the two of you share, which means she also knows about how her gift undoubtedly gave him some new teasing material for the coming weeks.

And you know she’s aware of this, because she quickly disappears back into her own cubicle, the sound of typing immediately apparent as she begins to busy herself.

You sigh, turning your attention back to your own screen, fingers resting motionless on your keyboard.

Alright, so you don’t hate Valentine’s Day, but maybe you actually do hate Hyunjin.

~~~~

It’s just past 11:00 pm when you admit that it’s officially too late for you to still be in the office. Rubbing your tired eyes, which ache slightly from staring at a screen all day, you let out a dramatic yawn. The office remains dark, everyone already having packed their things and left for the night, to their own date nights and special holiday plans.

You rise to your feet, prepared to grab your things before heading home, to what will most likely be a night of wine and bad cable tv shows. Just the kind of activities expected of a single person your age on Valentine’s Day, but you find you no longer have the will to attempt fighting against the stereotype. You’re tired and the wine Gahyeon bought you is good, you might as well make the most of it.

However, your plans are put to a sudden halt as you glance over at Gahyeon’s desk, a stack of papers laying neatly beside her keyboard.

It’s the WENUS - the Weekly Estimated Net Usage Statistics - or in other words, the documents Hyunjin had specifically asked her to deliver to him before she left the office tonight, which was roughly 5 hours ago.

Biting the inside of your cheek to refrain from letting out another pained sigh, you instead decide to take the high road, slipping into her cubicle to grab the papers.

Gahyeon isn’t normally this forgetful, just another unfortunate symptom of Valentine’s Day you suppose. The papers most likely dismissed as Felix came inside to pick her up, roses in hand, a dreamy as well as grossly in-love smile plastered across his lips.

So you can’t entirely blame Gahyeon, because if someone ever looked at you with such a disgustingly enamoured look, you might forgot about the stupid WENUS as well.

You’re the only one left inside the office, and as you head down the hallway you’re certain you’ll have to simply slip the documents under Hyunjin’s door, the man having gone home for the night.

Or more likely, to the big date or “something like that” he said he had planned.

Which is why you’re completely caught off guard by the light brightly shining from further down the hall.

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, you follow the brightness, finding yourself before Hyunjin’s  not-at-all empty office. The door remains wide open and you discreetly peek inside, finding the man stationed at his desk, pen in hand as he quickly jots something down on a sticky-note.

Blonde hair messy and tousled as his chin rests in the palm of his hand, tie loosened and falling low below his collar, it’s a look you’ve never seen from the man. Always so put together, so perfectly poised with a level of arrogance attached, it’s almost a shock to see the mask fall, even if just for a moment.

“Can I help you?” He calls without looking up, voice monotone. Your hiding place behind the door frame must not be as discreet as you may have hoped.

You clear your throat, walking towards his desk and tossing down the papers. “I noticed Gahyeon forgot these, figured you would want them.”

“Great. Thanks,” he says, still not looking up at you, but taking the papers all the same. When he doesn’t continue, it’s an obvious cue to leave, and indication that he enjoys your company about as much as you do his. Yet, something in you stops for a moment, holding you in place.

“Didn’t you have some sort of big date planned for tonight?” You ask, and at that he finally looks up at you, his eyes full of an extra amount of irritation that you don’t quite understand.

“What makes you think that?” He shoots back, his scowl making itself even more evident. You gesture to the large box of chocolates sitting on his desk, which remains unopened.

“The chocolates and the conversation with Gahyeon earlier,” you explain, giving the man an incredulous stare. The two of you don’t get along, obviously, but surely he can’t be mad at your presumption, considering he practically told Gahyeon he had plans. “I just assumed.”

“Well, you assumed wrong,” he huffs, before immediately going back to his work, pointedly not meeting your eye. You scoff, turning on your heel to leave his office, having enough of the attitude for the night. You know that you too can be a tad haughty and dramatic at times, but Hyunjin really is something else.

However, before you can make it through the door, you hear a deep sigh that clearly does not wish to go unheard, and you stop in your tracks.

“I always buy a box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day,” he says quietly, and you turn back around to see the man lift the giant red heart in the air. He keeps his eyes fixated on his desk, clearly embarrassed by the confession, tone dripping with shame. “You know… just in case.”

“That…” You start, unsure of how exactly to respond to the admission, to the defeated look nestled in his eyes. It’s unsettling, and entirely not Hyunjin. “That is one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard.”

He scoffs, dropping the chocolates back down on the desk with both a thud and a matching glare. He looks annoyed, but you suppose that’s better than whatever defeated, as well as slightly pathetic expression he was wearing prior.

Hyunjin’s already annoying, you can’t possibly add self-consciousness into that mix.

“Okay, fuck you,” he cuts back, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms, although you can’t help but notice there’s a lack of malice to the statement. Just slightly more of a playful jest than an angry rebuttal, although the irritation still isn’t entirely absent. It’s a bit strange, as the air between the two of you is almost always hostile, and honestly, you’re quite comfortable in that normalcy.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you continue, the words coming out before you truly give yourself a chance to contemplate them. “The wine you saw earlier? Gahyeon only bought it for me because she figured at least someone needed to give me something nice on Valentine’s Day.”

Now that brings a smile to Hyunjin’s face, as the man proceeds to let out a low whistle, as if to say: “Ouch, low blow.”

You chuckle beneath your breath. “The worst part is that I never even told her I didn’t have a date, she just assumed.”

He actually laughs out loud at that, and you realize that you’ve never actually heard the man laugh in a way that wasn’t condescending or snarky. It’s an awfully boyish sound -  as well as loud - and it’s enough to catch you momentarily off guard.

“No, the worst part is that she didn’t need to be told,” he quips, shrugging his shoulders. “She was right.”

“Okay, fuck you,” you cut back, although a grin sneaks it’s way onto the corners of your lips.

Okay seriously, what is wrong with you right now? You clearly need to leave this office and go home, because there’s no possible way Hwang Hyunjin just made you smile.

Instead, for some unknown reason, you hang in the doorway. A flash of something lights up in Hyunjin’s eyes - mischief perhaps - and he smirks. “Do you want to crack it open?”

“Huh?”

“The wine,” he clarifies with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s still in your office right?”

“I mean yeah, but…” You trail off, biting your inner cheek nervously. You’re not sure what the company policy on alcohol might be - as drinking at work has never been something you’ve considered - but other than the spiked egg-nog at the annual holiday party, you’re fairly certain it’s off limits. “Can we do that?”

“I mean, I’m sure we’re the only two here,” he offers, which you suppose is understandable. “Who’s going to care?”

When you don’t respond, still slightly apprehensive of the suggestion, he continues.

“Besides, do you really think Chan would mind anyway?” He says, referencing the head of the company, and subsequently, the boss of both of you. “He’s going to come home tomorrow from his romantic getaway smitten as hell. I bet he wouldn’t even notice if we were hungover off our asses.”

Another fair statement, Chan having taken the entire week off on a trip to Italy with his significant other. “A special Valentine’s Day treat,” he’d called it, never mind the fact that they do it annually, and this just so happens to be one of the busiest weeks of the year he’s left you all to deal with.

Yeah, you’re not the happiest with Chan at the moment, especially knowing he’s going to come back tomorrow completely love-sick and dreamy when you need him to focus.

Perhaps that’s why you don’t reject the offer, why you don’t immediately call Hyunjin out for being unprofessional. Tomorrow is going to suck anyway, and frankly, you could do with a little harmless defiance against Chan.

There’s also the unfortunate truth that today is still Valentine’s Day, and sharing the wine might be a little less sad than drinking the entire bottle on your own. Even if it’s with someone as insufferable as Hyunjin, the company remains company all the same.

“Alright,” you concede with a sigh, heading back out through the door. “Let me grab the bottle.”

~~~~

After half a bottle of wine drunk out of your office’s paper cups, and a box of chocolates the man had jokingly gifted to you (with only the slightly disgusting flavours remaining), you find yourself sitting next to Hyunjin at his desk. Having pulled an extra chair over from the office beside his own, you lay your head against your arm, which is spread out across the tabletop.

The last hour has passed by in a strange, as well as confusing fashion. You’ve found that Hyunjin perhaps isn’t the worst company in the world, all though you must admit, it doesn’t feel like you’re really with Hyunjin at all.

A man most often recognized for his meticulous demeanor, never seeming to have a hair out of place nor a wrinkle in his suit, now let’s this mask fall even more substantially than when you first entered the office. The knot of his tie now completely undone, hanging over the collar of his shirt, which is absent of its first few buttons and sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Long hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and suit jacket thrown lazily over the back of his chair, it’s almost difficult to place him as the man you see near every day.

However, what’s most shocking to you is certainly not his clothing, but his personality.

The arrogance is still there, certainly. The cheap little jabs and teasing jokes, but accompanying that is a level of sincerity. Perhaps the spirit of Valentine’s Day has possessed the man, and now that it’s a few minutes past midnight he’ll go back to his normal cocky self, but you can’t deny that Hyunjin has been almost… sweet.

A surprisingly attentive listener, he let you ramble on about anything from Gahyeon and Felix’s sickeningly sweet relationship to the rise in gasoline prices, even chiming in with his own genuine thoughts and advice.

Frankly, you’re a little weirded out.

“I mean, it’s all very cliche. Don’t you think?” He says now, referencing your current topic of whether or not either of you actually like the present holiday.

“What about it is cliche?” You ask, hiding the whisper of a smile behind your wine glass.

“All of it,” he explains, waving his hands in exaggeration. He’s had a little more to drink than you have, the fact obvious through the slight redness in his cheeks, although he’s by no means drunk. Just comfortable enough to keep his guard down, which you certainly don’t mind.

“The flowers, the chocolate, the wine,” he continues. “Fancy dinner that overlooks the city skyline, or a moonlit walk along the beach.”

You snort at the sentiment. “I think you’re just describing the night you’d rather be having right now.”

You mean the statement as a joke, but Hyunjin simply smiles. “No,” he states, his voice soft. “I’d rather be here.”

“Well,” you chuckle lowly, sliding the bottle of wine towards yourself. “Then you must have had a little too much to drink.”

He reaches over, grabbing the neck of the bottle and preventing you from pulling it away any further. Other hand clutching the area over his heart and lower lip drawn out in a pout, he mocks fake offence.

“Why?” he laughs, and although his next question is said with a jovial nonchalance, you can tell there may be a weight behind his words. “Are you saying you would rather be somewhere else?”

A part of you considers answering yes, to tease and bicker and do what you always do with Hyunjin, play into the jesting match as per usual. But you find that something holds you back.

“No,” you reply. “I’d rather be here too.”

A moment of silence passes by, the only sound in the room being the ticking clock that hangs above the doorway. His eyes meet yours, and the corner of his lip pulls upward into a half smile.

“Good,” is all he replies.

After another short moment of silence, a nervous feeling beginning to turn with your gut, you clear your throat. You’re not sure what’s happening here exactly, why your body is tingling with a jittery anticipation, but you suppose it’s a sign that this strange new side of Hyunjin might be enough excitement for one night. “Well, it’s getting late.”

A flash of something passes along the man’s face, what you could almost recognize as disappointment. “Ah,” he says with a glance at the clock, the unavoidable truth that it’s past midnight and too late to still be at the office beginning to set in. “I guess it is.”

“I should probably head home,” you say, beginning to rise to your feet. You don’t manage to stand up fully however, as Hyunjin gently takes hold of your wrist, motioning for you to sit back down.

“Sorry, can I just say something first?” He asks, and swallowing down the worry that arises at the statement, you nod.

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “Thank you for not feeling sorry for me.”

The look on your face must accurately show the amount of confusion you feel, as the man quickly clarifies. “I mean earlier with the chocolates, most people would just feel pity and try to console me for something like that. But you saved me the embarrassment, so thank you.”

You really didn’t think much of it at the time, but there is a level of truth to the statement. It didn’t even cross your mind to pity the man, and although it may have been slightly out of spite, you suppose if the situations were reversed, you wouldn’t have wanted him to make a big deal out of it either.

“But I don’t know why I’m surprised,” he shakes his head, letting out a small laugh as he seems to forgo his past seriousness. “That’s kinda our thing after all.”

“Our thing?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“You know,” he says, giving you an equally confused look at the fact you don’t know exactly what he’s talking about. “The teasing? The shots back and forth? That’s what we do, isn’t it?”

It takes a moment for you to register what exactly he’s saying, or rather the implications of it.

Hyunjin thinks teasing is your guys’ thing.

You just thought Hyunjin was an asshole.

Oh.

“Right, of course, our thing,” you say, doing your best to sound genuine, as if the two of you have totally been on the same page the entire time. As if you haven’t been cursing him under your breath every time he’s made a teasing comment. As if you haven’t called him arrogant and snobby for two years straight with honestly little to no substance behind it. As if you haven’t assumed every time he was being nice to another coworker, it was all fake and for his own personal gain and attention.

Hyunjin stares at you for a moment, the soft smile on his lips slowly morphing into a frown, eyebrows drawing together in puzzlement.

“You…” He trails off, mouth opening in a small “o,” before a look of mortification passes along his features. “You didn’t think we were joking, did you?”

“Well, not exactly,” you say, albeit a tad awkwardly, unsure of how to navigate the admission. In the end you decide to go with honesty. “Like I knew we teased each other, it just didn’t come off as very, you know, lighthearted to me.”

The horrified look Hyunjin wears only grows wider at the statement. Hands reaching up to cover his mouth, the man appears almost animated. “I am so sorry,” he says, words slightly muffled by the fingers that cover his lips.

“Don’t be,” you rush out quickly, reaching forward to take hold of his wrist, gently pulling his hand away from his face. “It was just a misunderstanding. If anything it’s a relief, so don’t worry about it.”

He seems to relax slightly at that, the tension leaving his shoulders, although he continues to chew on the bottom of his lower lip. “Well, I’m still sorry.”

You smile, the sentiment undeniably endearing. “It’s okay.”

He pauses for a moment, gaze focused intently at the bottle of wine, as if contemplating something. “I’m also sorry for taking the job,” he says suddenly.

The statement takes you by surprise. “What?”

“The promotion,” he elaborates. “ I know it was between you and I, and point-blank, you deserved it more than I did. I don't know what Chan was thinking, and I should have stepped back and let you have it. I’m sorry.”

It’s funny, you’ve spent the last two years wishing to hear him say those words. A deep dark part of you just wanting to hear him admit it, to acknowledge the fact that he got off lucky being Chan’s favourite. That it was you who deserved it. You, who was both more qualified and held seniority.

But now that he’s actually said the words out loud, only one response comes to mind.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. “Wait w-what?” He asks, words fumbled with shock.

“There’s no way in hell you would have, nor should have turned down an opportunity like that,” you explain, and it’s true. If the roles were reversed, there’s not even a chance you would have given up a promotion for him, and it’s not until now that you realize you never would have wanted him to do it for you either. “Don’t be an idiot.”

Eyebrows furrowing together, he stares at you in disbelief. “But you’ve been here longer, and put a lot more time into-“

“And I'm not saying I disagree with that,” you counter, because frankly, you don’t. “But throwing away this opportunity would have genuinely been the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Don’t be a saint, we both know you’re not one, and neither am I.”

He watches you for a moment, eyes scanning your face carefully, as if looking for something. After a moment he swallows deeply, taking a deep breath as if to concede. “Yeah okay, you’re right.”

That should be the end of it, but something stops you from switching topics, an itch beneath your skin that says the conversation isn’t quite finished.

Possibly deriving from the fact that Hyunjin has always been good at the job - just as good as you are - and he doesn’t seem to be acknowledging that. Extra hours and seniority aside, the two of you have always been on rather equal footing in that sense, and you don’t think it's fair to go completely unannounced.

“And you are very talented Hyunjin,” you say softly, a confession of sorts. “You wouldn’t have gotten the job otherwise.”

He doesn’t say anything to this, but you don’t miss the way his cheeks flush slightly, the faintest hint of a smile appearing at the corner of his lip.

“So don't feel bad, yeah?” You finish, even placing your hand over his own on the desktop, hoping it comes off as reassuring. “I'm sure another opportunity will come around for me.”

He pauses for a moment, staring down at your hand over top of his own. Gaze fluttering up to meet your eyes, he finally allows himself to fully smile. “Alright.”

“Good,” you say simply, giving his hand a small squeeze, before removing it entirely. You go to have a sip of your wine - the paper cup having been momentarily forgotten - but don’t miss the way your hand shakes slightly. Almost nervous, it seems. Strange.

The smile on Hyunjin’s face suddenly shifts from compassionate to playful. “So you think I’m talented, huh?”

You roll your eyes, finishing your sip before answering. “Amongst other far less kind things, sure.”

It’s almost automatic how his face falls, smile dissapaiting into a frown, eyes hollowing of the newfound joy.

Shit. This is really going to take some getting used to.

“Sorry, force of habit,” you add, quickly trying to recover your mistake. “But yeah, I do.”

He seems to regain his footing at this, that small smile returning to his lips once more, granting you a strange sense of relief. “I think you’re talented too,” he says quietly, almost shy.

“Thank you,” you reply, voice equally as gentle.

It takes about ten seconds of smiling at each other in silence for the moment to become awkward.

“I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this,” he blurts out quickly, face flushing a light shade of pink.

“At…?” You ask, not quite sure what he’s trying to get at.

“Ever since the promotion, I really haven’t had much time to myself,” he admits, leaning backwards in his chair. “So I’m a bit out of practice with the whole, you know, flirting thing.”

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait, wait-

Flirting?

Is that…is that what he’s doing right now?

You stare at him, trying to get some tell that he might be joking. That this whole thing was just a game, that he’ll say sike, and then spill his cup of wine over your shirt and you can go back to the Hyunjin you know. The Hyunjin you somewhat despise, sure, but at least that irritation is comfortable. At least it’s familiar and something that you can understand.

This Hyunjin, the one that compliments you, tells you that you deserve his job more than he does, and flirts with you, he is anything but understandable.

To make matters even worse, you aren’t repulsed. The statement doesn’t make you uncomfortable nor grossed out, in fact, the reasoning behind your heart beginning to pound faster  is what you can only label as excitement.

You truly must be losing it.

You must be, as instead of putting a stop to the conversation, to the entire night by leaving his office and going home, you indulge in it. “I get that, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date too.”

“Really?” He asks, clearly intrigued as he leans in a little closer, resting his chin in his palm. “How come?”

“Same sort of thing,” you reply honestly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Gahyeon, I really do. The job would not even be half as interesting without her, but for the last couple months I feel like I have to do double the work. She has to go wedding cake testing one night, or bridesmaid dress shopping the other, and I always pick up her shift or stay later to finish what she couldn’t get to. I care about her, so I don’t mind doing it, but it can be tiring. Plus Chan already expects me to do extra overtime on top of that, because it’s what I’ve been doing for two years straight, and that just doesn’t leave me with tons of free time.”

It feels a bit weird, talking to Hyunjin of all people about this, considering you haven’t mentioned it to anyone in the office before. But he listens attentively, eyebrows drawn together in understanding.

“I know that’s not exactly the same thing,” you clarify, clearing your throat as if to shake off the vulnerability of the statement. “Because I’m doing it to myself, and you have a lot more responsibility in your position, but-”

“No, don’t say that,” Hyunjin quickly cuts you off, and this time it’s him who reaches forward to take your hand. “You still work equally as hard as I do, hell honestly even more. You deserve better than that, it’s not fair to you.”

“Yeah, but what can I do?” You ask with a shrug, because really, there’s not much you can do about it.  “I can’t stop working as hard, because Chan will see that as even less of a reason to promote me. And I hate to say it, but the dating world doesn’t exactly love a workaholic.”

He seems to consider this for a moment, before shaking his head in defiance.“Who cares about them?” He retorts, and you can’t deny it's sweet how much he seems to take offence on your behalf.  “Being a workaholic means you’re ambitious. You're hardworking and dedicated. I mean, who doesn’t want that in a partner?”

You snort at this, because if only it were that simple. “You'd be surprised.”

Hyunjin doesn’t seem to accept this as a viable answer. “Maybe you just need someone who’s also a workaholic,” he offers, reaching to take a sip of his own wine. “Someone who gets it.”

You smile at this, raising an eyebrow jokingly. “What, do you want to date me?”

He doesn’t even hesitate a moment before answering. “Sure.”

You blink.

It’s as if you can feel your eyes monumentally widen, granting him an incredulous stare. “I was kidding,” you state in disbelief, ready for him to laugh at the look on your face. To explain that he was joking, and just wanted to get a reaction out of you.

Except that this moment never comes, as Hyunjin simply stares back at you, eyes equally as wide but for different reasons. You are shocked and confused, but he seems more like a deer caught in the headlights. As if he has been caught red-handed, revealed more than he meant to.

But instead of back-tracking, instead of making some sort of excuse and pretending it never happened, he takes a deep breath. Gaze shifting to the ground momentarily, as if to steady himself, before firmly looking back up to you.

“Well you know what, I wasn't,” he says, tone blunt. It’s not even a semblance of a shy or earnest confession, but rather a fact, and he does not refrain from delivering it as such.

“Hyunjin-” You begin, unsure of what you’re even going to say such a sudden and bold statement. Fortunately, you find you don’t have to bother figuring it out, as he immediately cuts you off.

“No, hear me out,” he starts,  “We’re both workaholics, we’re intellectually compatible, we’re both attractive.”

You hate the fact that instead of attempting to argue this, you’re momentarily both taken aback and flattered by the fact that Hwang Hyunjin finds you attractive.

“We won't get annoyed if the other person has to pick up extra shifts or stay late,” he continues, not even stopping for a breath. “We have the same sense of humour-”

“Okay Hyunjin, I get it,” you cut in, feeling a tad overwhelmed.

Because really, is anything he’s saying wrong? No. Is it unfair or manipulated or just plain ridiculous? Also no.

But at the same time, it’s also Hyunjin.

“Come on,” he says, his tone finally shifting to become more soft, as he leans forward to take your hand once more. This time however, he doesn’t let go. “It's Valentine's Day, and we’re both here together. You even said you wouldn’t want to be somewhere else.”

Once again, true.

“Don’t you think that means something?” He pushes a little further, and you finally force your gaze to meet his eyes, which are practically glistening with sincerity.

Taking a deep breath, you decide not to confirm the question, but also not disagree with it either. The safest option.

“How are you even sure we’re compatible in that way?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. Heart beating a mile per minute, palms clammy in a way they haven’t been in months, you can barely fathom how nervous you are in this moment.

Not a bad nervous. Not terribly nauseous, or a terrified sort of anxious, but for lack of a better term, it’s what you can only describe as butterflies.

And how long has it been since someone has given you those?

Hyunjin leans in a little closer, just a fraction of an inch, but you feel your breath halt sharply. He smiles. “Don’t you want to find out?”

“Yes,” your mind whispers, followed immediately by: “No you don’t, what the fuck?”

It doesn’t take a genius to know which one of those thoughts might hold a little more truth than the other.

“I don't know,” you answer, and after a moment of silence, you sigh. Hyunjin has been awfully honest, perhaps it’s time you try the same. “Ugh, maybe? But isn’t that crazy?”

“See, we’re both crazy,” he says, adding to the rather extensive list he’s created.

You can’t stop the laugh that escapes your lips at this, and his grin grows a little wider before he chuckles along with you. As it dies out, the quiet you are left with is full. Full of compassion, of confession, of the anticipation of what might happen next.

“Here let me propose an idea, and try not to freak out until I’m finished,” he says, waiting to continue until you give him the confirmation of a small nod. He inhales deeply. “Let me kiss you, and if there’s nothing there, you can leave and we can act like this never happened. We’ll just go back to being colleagues and tease each other like we always do, except this time it actually will be lighthearted.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he gently puts a hand up, indicating he’s not quite done yet. “And if there is something there, you’ll let me treat you to coffee after work on Thursday. And at a cafe, not the breakroom.”

Maybe you should say no. He’s a colleague, and one you’ve not so secretly disliked for over a year, at that. Sensibility states it’s not wise to date a coworker, so long as things don’t work out and you’re forced to see them again and again.

But your heart states that it’s Valentine’s Day, and your heart has never been the most sensible of influences. You’ve tossed the thought of relationships and the possibility of butterflies on the backburner for so long, what if you allowed yourself a little fraction of weakness?

After all, a kiss and maybe coffee afterwards isn’t too dangerous a proposition, is it?

Letting your gaze momentarily flicker down to the man’s lips, which remain drawn in that soft smile, you take a deep breath. “Okay,” you whisper, and he nods, although you don’t miss the way his eyes seem to glow a little brighter.

Slowly, he leans forward, so close that you allow your own eyes to flutter shut, the ghost of his breath hot against your face. You wait a moment, shuddering slightly, when you can feel him let out a chuckle.

“Are you sure?” He asks, and it’s blatantly obvious that he’s teasing you.

“You’re the worst,” you reply, although there is no seriousness behind the words. You’re about to reopen your eyes, when he suddenly leans forward fully, closing the remaining distance between the two of you.

The kiss is soft. Chaste, but also not lacking in compassion, as he leans in a little further to deepen it. His hand falls onto one of your own that rests on the desktop, fingers dusting against your knuckles. It’s all very tender, in a way you never expected of Hyunjin.

Not that you’re admitting to ever having imagined what kissing him might be like, of course.

He pulls away for a moment, eyes opening briefly. “Was that alri-”

But you don’t give him a chance to finish, because now that you’ve had a taste, you simply can’t imagine stopping.

“Just, shut up for a second,” you state, before leaning back to connect your lips once again. He allows his hand to trail up your arm with a bit more purpose this time, as if reassured by your confirmation. Settling on your shoulder, he pulls you in closer, the rhythm the two of you begin to settle into slowly escalating. A little more eager, as each kiss becomes more desperate than the next.

His lips taste of the wine you had earlier, a sweet and crisp flavour that you can’t help but internally thank Gahyeon for, as you chase after the high it gives you.

It’s sudden, how his other hand slips to wrap around your waist, pulling you upwards so that the two of you are standing. The chair you were sitting on rolls backwards, not so gracefully knocking into one of the office’s many filing cabinets, but neither of you pays much mind. Instead, Hyunjin takes the liberty of shifting you over, so that your lower back presses up against his office desk.

It’s not until now that you realize how genuinely tall the man is, as both of his hands fall on either side of you to rest on the desktop, closing you in.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispers into your mouth, and you can’t deny the way your chest warms at the statement, a strange sense of pride. At the same time, however, it is accompanied by surprise.

“Really?” You whisper back, and he nods, hand pulling back the collar of your shirt to reveal your neck and collarbone.

“Are you saying you haven’t thought about it?” He challenges, and your first thought is to immediately say no and deny it, just as you always have. But really, what good would that do you now?

“I have,” you answer honestly, taking in a deep breath as his lips begin to work their way down your jawline, approaching your neck. “It just wasn’t exactly like this.”

You have always thought Hyunjin was attractive, you aren’t blind. With long golden hair, plump lips, and a nice jawline, there is no denying that he’s pleasing to the eye. This of course  didn’t change your inherent dislike towards him, but you suppose it also may have made it… manifest a little differently at times.

After all, hatred is a passionate emotion, and it’s not so difficult for the line between detestment and desire to blur. For those feelings to subconsciously manifest into something more. Something angry, and charged and deliciously wrong.

“Oh, yeah?” He smirks, only stopping for a moment, before continuing his trek downwards, nipping at the skin of your collarbone. “Tell me what it was like then.”

Breath hitching slightly has one of his hands trails down your waist, before resting awfully close to your inner thigh. “Fuck, yeah okay,” you murmer, barely above a whisper.

“We were here,” you breathe, and he hums at this, the curve of his smile pressing against the skin of your neck. “We were just in an argument.”

“Sounds like us,” he notes, moving his hand so that it actually does rest on your inner thigh. “What was the argument about?”

“I… I don’t remember,” you manage, and you don’t even bother attempting to figure it out, as imagining anything outside of the rushing in your ears and the excitement building in your chest seems beyond impossible at the moment.

“Affecting you that much, huh?” He teases, finally removing his mouth from your neck, bringing his head back so that his eyes can meet yours. They glint with mischief, and you find yourself both embarrassed, as well as a tad bothered in more ways than one.

“Shut up,” you murmur weakly, and he simply laughs before opening his mouth, surely to say something else that will affect you more than your liking. You don’t give him the chance however, as you once again connect your lips, letting your own hand wrap along his jaw, firmly pulling him into you.

He easily complies, before taking the initiative to go further, leaning you backwards over the desk. Now this is more similar to what you shamefully imagined, dirtier, far more risky and bold and something you certainly should not be doing in the office.

His computer is conveniently placed to the side, so long as you don’t mind the WENUS booklet that rests below your back - which you obviously don’t - there’s more than enough room as he lays you down, hand trailing downward along the shape of your figure.

Your mind whispers that this might be getting a tad out of hand, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the need coursing through you, that hunger for what might come next, for more. Voice of reason be damned, after all you’ve been listening to it far too much lately, let tonight be your one slip up.

That is, the voice of reason would have been forgotten, had it not taken the shape of a bottle of wine that sits haphazardly at the edge of the desk.

All it takes is for Hyunjin’s elbow to stray a little too far to the side, for the bottle to be tipped over. Unfortunately, it also doesn’t take the liberty of falling off the side of the desk and onto the floor, which would perhaps lead to a small stain on the carpet and nothing more.

No, instead it tips over onto the desk and the bottle cracks open, not shattering completely but rather into a few separate pieces of glass. The sparkling white liquid spreads across the desk top, and subvertly, the computer and keyboard.

It’s almost immediate how the heat of the moment transforms into a blind panic.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Hyunjin mutters, scrambling to grab the broken bottle before more wine can leak out and cause any extra damage.

Meanwhile, you sit yourself upward and off the desk, trying to ignore the fact that your back and shirt are now both soaking wet. Without another word, he disappears from the office, only to return with a stack of napkins you recognize from the lunchroom.

It takes the two of you all of only a few minutes to clean up the mess, the wine easily soaked up by the napkins, the computer and keyboard only having acquired a quick wiping to be fine, at least on the outside.

After a quick boot up by Hyunjin, the computer starts alright, the two of you letting out an equally relieved sigh. Both of your jobs pay fine money, but the thought of paying a couple grand to fix a company computer - not even considering the embarrassment regarding how exactly it got broken - isn’t exactly on your list of work goals.

“Is it okay?” You ask, and Hyunjin nods, giving you a soft smile.

“The computer seems fine,” he replies, before tapping a few random buttons on the keyboard, a frown playing across his lips. “But I think I’m going to need to invest in a new keyboard.”

“Bummer,” you state, which seems like a rather lame thing to say, but frankly it also could have been much worse than just the keyboard. Honestly, the two of you probably deserved a bit worse, so you can’t help but feel lucky.

Hyunjin sighs, standing up from the seat in front of the computer and walking over to stand beside you. Leaning against the desk, this time he is sure to take a glance behind himself to check that there’s nothing he might be in danger of knocking over “Bit of a mood-killer though, huh?” He states, and you snort.

Shifting yourself to stand in front of him, you go to redo his tie. “On the bright side,” you start, glancing up at him, only reveling slightly in the way he watches you intently, as your faces are only a few inches apart. “I think we can add that kind of compatibility to your list.”

“You think so?” He says, tone both a little surprised but happy all the same. It’s endearing, how his eyes light up with relief. “The wine disaster and panic didn’t tarnish the whole thing?”

“It would take a lot more to tarnish that, believe me,” you answer, finishing the knot of his tie before beginning to let go. “But I guess we’ll just have to continue this some other time, over coffee perhaps?”

Because honestly, you’d already mentally agreed to coffee before he even kissed you.

“Of course, I’d love that,” he starts sweetly, before suddenly taking hold of your wrist, grip gentle but firm. He smirks. “But if you want, we could also go to Chan’s office.”

You laugh, assuming the statement to be a joke, but Hyunjin simply raises an eyebrow. A challenge.

Surprisingly - and perhaps a little terribly, as well - you aren’t appalled by the idea. You’re more than willing to continue where you left off, and enacting what would be a little bit of revenge on Chan is almost too enticing.

It’s risky, unprofessional, and undeniably wrong on almost every level, but these are also the things that make it so incredibly tempting.

You hesitate for a moment, a wide grin spreading across your own lips. Tilting your head to the side, you look him up and down, analyzing. “You’re a bit of a freak, aren’t you?”

He chuckles at this, before mimicking you and tilting his own head to this side. “Only if you’re into it.”

And yeah, you’re a little into it.

“Okay,” you say with a smile, tugging lightly on the end of his tie as you make your way towards his office door, pulling him along with you. “Chan’s office it is.”

~~~~

psa: pls don’t fool around with anyone in your boss’ office. thank you <3

but anywho, thanks for reading everyone!! i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, feel free to come chat with me about any thoughts or feelings you may have.

if you want, here are my skz and ateez masterlists for more content. i hope to see you around. :3

[pumpkinpaix]

hello there, hope you're having a nice day <3

so i've been reading a lot of fics lately, uk for sanity's sake, and i've noticed that in most of them, lwj doesn't use contractions (eg., says do not instead of don't)?? and i think he doesn't in the novel either but i don't remember lol so i can't be sure but anyway that made me curious - does chinese have contractions as well? does he not use it bc it's informal?

hello there! I’m doing all right, i started to answer this ask while waiting for a jingyeast loaf to come out of the oven 😊 many thanks to @bookofstars for helping me look over/edit/correct this post!! :D

anyways! the answer to your questions are complicated (of course it is when is anything simple with me), so let’s see if I can break it down--you’re asking a) whether chinese has contractions, b) if it does, how does they change the tone of the sentence--is it similar to english or no?, and c) how does this all end up with lan wangji pretty much never using contractions in english fic/translation?

I’m gonna start by talking about how formality is (generally) expressed in each language, and hopefully, by the end of this post, all the questions will have been answered in one way or another. so: chinese and english express variations in formality/register differently, oftentimes in ways that run contrary to one another. I am, as always, neither a linguist nor an expert in chinese and english uhhh sociological grammar? for lack of a better word. I’m speaking from my own experience and knowledge :D

so with a character like lan wangji, it makes perfect sense in english to write his dialogue without contractions, as contractions are considered informal or colloquial. I don’t know if this has changed in recent years, but I was always taught in school to never use contractions in my academic papers.

However! not using contractions necessarily extends the length of the sentence: “do not” takes longer to say than “don’t”, “cannot” is longer than “can’t” etc. in english, formality is often correlated with sentence length: the longest way you can say something ends up sounding the most formal. for a very simplified example, take this progression from least formal to absurdly formal:

whatcha doin’?

what’re you doing?

what are you doing? [standard colloquial]

may I ask what you are doing?

might I inquire as to what you are doing?

excuse me, but might I inquire as to what you are doing?

pardon my intrusion, but might I inquire as to what you are doing?

please pardon my intrusion, but might inquire as to the nature of your current actions?

this is obviously a somewhat overwrought example, but you get the point. oftentimes, the longer, more complex, more indirect sentence constructions indicate a greater formality, often because there is a simultaneous decreasing of certainty. downplaying the speaker’s certainty can show deference (or weakness) in english, while certainty tends to show authority/confidence (or aggression/rudeness).

different words also carry different implications of formality—in the example, I switched “excuse me” to “pardon me” during one of the step ups. pardon (to me at least) feels like a more formal word than “excuse”. Similarly, “inquire” is more formal than “ask” etc. I suspect that at least some of what makes one word seem more formal than one of its synonyms has to do with etymology. many of english’s most formal/academic words come from latin (which also tends to have longer words generally!), while our personal/colloquial words tend to have germanic origins (inquire [latin] vs ask [germanic]).

you’ll also notice that changing a more direct sentence structure (“may I ask what”) to a more indirect one (“might I inquire as to”) also jumps a register. a lot of english is like this — you can complicate simple direct sentences by switching the way you use the verbs/how many auxiliaries you use etc.

THE POINT IS: with regards to english, more formal sentence structures are often (not always) longer and more indirect than informal ones. this leads us to a problem with a character like lan wangji.

lan wangji is canonically very taciturn. if he can express his meaning in two words rather than three, then he will. and chinese allows for this—in extreme ways. if you haven’t already read @hunxi-guilai’s post on linguistic register (in CQL only, but it’s applicable across the board), I would start there because haha! I certainly do Not have a degree in Classical Chinese lit and she does a great job. :D

you can see from the examples that hunxi chose that often, longer sentences tend to be more informal in chinese (not always, which I’ll circle back to at the end lol). Colloquial chinese makes use of helping particles to indicate tone and meaning, as is shown in wei wuxian’s dialogue. and, as hunxi explained, those particles are largely absent from lan wangji’s speech pattern. chinese isn’t built of “words” in the way English is—each character is less a word and more a morpheme—and the language allows for a lot of information to be encoded in one character. a single character can often stand for a phrase within a sentence without sacrificing either meaning or formality. lan wangji makes ample use of this in order to express himself in the fewest syllables possible.

so this obviously leads to an incongruity when trying to translate his dialogue or capture his voice in English: shorter sentences are usually more direct by nature, and directness/certainty is often construed as rudeness -- but it might seem strange to see lan wangji’s dialogue full of longer sentences while the narration explicitly says that he uses very short sentences. so what happens is that many english fic writers extrapolated this into creating an english speech pattern for lan wangji that reads oddly. they’ll have lan wangji speak in grammatically incoherent fragments that distill his intended thought because they’re trying to recreate his succinctness. unfortunately, English doesn’t have as much freedom as Chinese does in this way, and it results in lan wangji sounding as if he has some kind of linguistic impediment and/or as if he’s being unspeakably rude in certain situations. In reality, lan wangji’s speech is perfectly polite for a young member of the gentry (though he’s still terribly rude in other ways lol). he speaks in full, and honestly, quite eloquent sentences.

hunxi’s post already has a lot of examples, but I figure I’ll do one as well focused on the specifics of this post.

I’m going to use this exchange from chapter 63 between the twin jades because I think it’s a pretty simple way to illustrate what I’m talking about:

蓝曦臣道：“你亲眼所见？”

蓝忘机道：“他亲眼所见。”

蓝曦臣道：“你相信他？”

蓝忘机道：“信。”

[...] 蓝曦臣道：“那么金光瑶呢？”

蓝忘机道：“不可信。”

my translation:

Lan Xichen said, “You saw it with your own eyes?”

Lan Wangji said, “He saw it with his own eyes.”

Lan Xichen said, “You believe him?”

Lan Wangji said, “I believe him.”

[...] Lan Xichen said, “Then what about Jin Guangyao?”

Lan Wangji said, “He cannot be believed.”

you can see how much longer the (pretty literal) english translations are! every single line of dialogue is expanded because things that can be omitted in chinese cannot be omitted in english without losing grammatical coherency. i‘ll break a few of them down:

Lan Xichen’s first line:

你 (you) 亲眼 (with one’s own eyes) 所 (literary auxiliary) 见 (met/saw)？

idk but i love this line a lot lmao. it just has such an elegant feel to me, probably because I am an uncultured rube. anyways, you see here that he expressed his full thought in five characters.

if I were to rewrite this sentence into something much less formal/much more modern, I might have it become something like this:

你是自己看见的吗？

你 (you) 是 (to be) 自己 (oneself) 看见 (see) 的 (auxiliary) 吗 (interrogative particle)？

i suspect that this construction might even be somewhat childish? I’ve replaced every single formal part of the sentence with a more colloquial one. instead of 亲眼 i’ve used 自己, instead of 所见 i’ve used 看见的 and then also added an interrogative particle at the end for good measure (吗). To translate this, I would probably go with “Did you see it yourself?”

contained in this is also an example of how one character can represent a whole concept that can also be represented with two characters: 见 vs 看见. in this example, both mean “to see”. we’ll see it again in the next example as well:

in response to lan xichen’s, “you believe him?” --> 你 (you) 相信 (believe) 他 (him)? lan wangji answers with, “信” (believe).

chinese does not do yes or no questions in the same way that english does. there is no catch-all for yes or no, though there are general affirmative (是／有) and negative (不／没) characters. there are other affirmative/negative characters, but these are the ones that I believe are the most common and also the ones that you may see in response to yes or no questions on their own. (don’t quote me on that lol)

regardless, the way you respond to a yes or no question is often by repeating the verb phrase either in affirmative or negative. so here, when lan xichen asks if lan wangji believes wei wuxian, lan wangji responds “believe”. once again, you can see that one character can stand in for a concept that may also be expressed in two characters: 信 takes the place of 相信. lan wangji could have responded with “相信” just as well, but, true to his character, he didn’t because he didn’t need to. this is still a complete sentence. lan wangji has discarded the subject (I), the object (him), and also half the verb (相), and lost no meaning whatsoever. you can’t do this in english!

and onto the last exchange:

lan xichen: 那么 (then) 金光瑶 (jin guangyao) 呢 (what about)？

lan wangji: 不可 (cannot) 信 (believe)

you can actually see the contrast between the two brothers’ speech patterns even in this. lan xichen’s question is not quite as pared down as it could be. if it were wangji’s line instead, I would expect it to read simply “金光瑶呢？” which would just be “what about jin guangyao?” 那么 isn’t necessary to convey the core thought -- it’s just as how “then what about” is different than “what about”, but “then” is not necessary to the central question. if we wanted to keep the “then” aspect, you could still cut out 么 and it would be the same meaning as well.

a FINAL example of how something can be cut down just because I think examples are helpful:

“I don’t know” is usually given as 我不知道. (this is what nie huaisang says lol) It contains subject (我) and full verb (知道). you can pare this straight down to just 不知 and it would mean the same thing in the correct context. i think most of the characters do this at least once? it sounds more literary -- i don’t know that i would ever use it in everyday speech, but the fact remains that it’s a possibility. both could be translated as “I do not know” and it would be accurate.

ANYWAYS, getting all the way back to one of your original questions: does chinese have contractions? and the answer is like... kind of...?? but not really. there’s certainly slang/dialect variants that can be used in ways that are reminiscent of english contractions. the example I’m thinking of is the character 啥 (sha2) which can be used as slang in place of 什么 (shen2 me). (which means “what”)

so for a standard sentence of, 你在做什么? (what are you doing), you could shorten down to just 做啥? and the second construction is less formal than the first, but they mean the same thing.

other slang i can think of off the top of my head: 干嘛 (gan4 ma2) is also informal slang for “what are you doing”. and i think this is a regional thing, but you can also use 搞 (gao3) and 整 (zheng3) to mean “do” as well.

so in the same way that you can replace 什么 with 啥, you can replace 做 as well to get constructions like 搞啥 (gao3 sha2) and 整啥 (zheng3 sha2).

these are all different ways to say “what are you doing” lmao, and in this case, shorter is not, in fact, more formal.

woo! we made it to the end! I hope it was informative and helpful to you anon. :D

this is where I would normally throw my ko-fi, but instead, I’m actually going to link you to this fundraising post for an old fandom friend of mine. her house burned down mid-september and they could still use help if anyone can spare it! if this post would have moved you to buy me a ko-fi, please send that money to her family instead. :) rbs are also appreciated on the post itself. (* ´▽` *)

anyways, here’s the loaf jingyeast made :3 it was very tasty.

[lemari-be]

So, I've read the latest chapter. Stayed up 'til 4am, but it was worth it. Gotta say, the whole endgame vibe with so many art pieces you' ve made really spells closure, and I'm sad. Happy to see the fic soon in full, but sad that I won't see updates again.

Problems are a part of life, and frankly, if we didn't have any problems and had nothing to complain about, life would be pretty damn boring. I kinda see that applied in your fic. Some things will get resolved, some new crap will appear, some wounds may reopen ocasionally, but hey, that's okay. It's...realistic. Not morbid or depressing, but a well established fact, and seeing it actually applied and shown here is... cathartic. It actually shows that these characters have a life. And that had drawn me to keep reading. It's just... life. Maybe it doesn't make sense, but sometimes real things make no sense at all. So yeah, I've enjoyed it.

Also, this is a wild guess, but I have this little feeling that you're projecting a bit on Hero. Dunno why, just a hunch. Some of his thoughts...really hit home. Maybe just all students feel that way or something.

Good night, you have some rest after writing this chapter, y'hear?

You know, writing this fic has kept me company for so long that it feels kind of bittersweet for me to know the next one I'll be working on is the final one. I'll let you in on a little secret. I may or may have not hinted two oneshots (or two-three chapter length stories) that I will be writing after I finish Bask, in the latest chapter :) It won't be a sequel of course, but one will definitely be taking place after the events of Bask, and the other is a story that I couldn't really fit in the actual fic because it's mostly fun times with the boys.

As long as the fic allowed me to do so, I tried to be realistic with things, but I never really tried to force it to be that way. Some things remaining unresolved etc happened naturally in writing, but I think it's better than everything to be... perfectly okay? I feel like it'd feel a bit cheap, or maybe the actual things our characters have achieved wouldn't have as much of an impact despite being so important. So yes, what you're saying is definitely applied in my fic :) I'm really glad you've enjoyed that part in the story. While I do try not to make everything overly depressing and add lots of fluff, we have to remember that even the smallest things to someone might be a huge success for someone else.

About Hero. I wasn't expecting reading this and oh boy did what you pointed out had me a bit stunned heh. I'll say it now, it's not just a hunch, what you said. Hero is honestly the character I relate to the most for so many reasons and ironically, maybe it's the reason I had the hardest time writing his parts in the story. Of course we gotta keep in mind, that is to how I've translated him as a character in general. The way I've written him in this fic is exactly how I felt like he is as a person, I don't like to self-insert in my stories, it wasn't the reason this is why I wrote him this way. So with that out of the way, yup. What you said here is true in any case, and especially in the latest chapter (the flashback segment) got quite personal. I like to think it's not every student that feels this way though... While I do believe Hero is trying his best anyway, going to med school was more to appease his parents expectations, same with why he mostly went along with whatever they ask him to do. He's a good guy by nature, but you gotta say 'no' too, because regret is a hell of its own.

Thank you again :) And I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! I'll definitely be getting some rest – well, with exams coming up, as much as I can anyway lmao You take care of yourself too, and I'll see you on the next and final one!

[skyeventide]

my trsb fic has so many notes to the text that they didn’t fit within the ao3 notes’ section character limit lmao, so here is the lengthier version of it. you can consider it a teaser I guess? but either way, I need some place to store these and link them back in the fic.

contents here, cut for length

on the matter of the mother of Gil-Galad

Celebrimbor’s names

shibbolething all over Thauron’s name

actual quotes and canon

On the matter of the mother of Gil-Galad

Meril-i-Turinqi is a Book of Lost Tales character, lady of Tol Eressea, kin of In(g)we but also similar to the Solosimpi, which is to say the Teleri.

The character of "Meril" on the other hand, is a proto-Amarie, Finrod's love interest. In the early draft of Meril's appearance, Finrod is married and is father of Gil-Galad: this draft is obviously discarded and Finrod becomes childless, while Meril transforms into Amarie, who does not join the exile. Gil-Galad is instead transferred to Orodreth, which iirc is Tolkien's last word on the matter (I don't count the Fingon thing as even canon-adjacent, ChrisT was quite clear in admitting the mistake). Now I recall Orodreth is said to be married to a Sinda; why did I discard that? Cause I initally forgot it. Rip to me and Orodreth.

However, what I had was: a proto-Amarie, who is a Vanya, and a BoLT character who is of the family of Ingwe (so a Vanya), but also like the Teleri (so of the third clan, even though not a Sinda). And so Meril-proto-Amarie became Meril-i-Turinqi, wife of Orodreth.

The full headcanon on Meril here would have her as daughter of a Vanya who is kin of Ingwe and of Telerin nobility (or royalty? they're all big on intermarrying between royal families), which fulfills both sides of the coin and also stays true to the statement that Elenwe is the sole full-Vanya to join the exile (I'm gonna assume this excludes any non-royalty followers). Now regarding the parentage of Orodreth, he is here son of Angrod, as I feel that is a better option in almost all respects. This poses some issues with regard to age, as I recall Orodreth-son-of-Angrod and Idril as being named the only two non-adults to do the journey to ME (again... this surely excludes any non-royalty youngsters, but nonetheless). Obviously these issues grow even further if one also includes the matter of Celebrimbor being Aman-born to a wife who doesn't follow Curufin (and therefore the matter of his age at the time of exile), but reconciling these versions is borderline impossible with how the origins of Celebrimbor keep changing throughout the conception of the legendarium.

Long story short, I up the age of Orodreth to be at least old enough to speak softly with Finarfin (here his grandfather) during the flight of the Noldor, but I have him already married though childless. Finduilas is born early into the exile and Gil-Galad is her younger brother.

Meril returns to Aman at the end of the First Age and rules Tol Eressea for the exiles who are stuck there until the Ban is fully lifted.

Celebrimbor's names

FN = father-name, MN = mother-name

I do not claim to have come up with "Tyelperinquar is an epesse", that headcanon, which nonetheless I'm sure happened separately for other people, is one I first read in a fic by Tyelperintal on AO3. That of course means that I could no longer go with the FN Curufinwe MN Tyelperinquar option, and needed another mother-name, which I also borrowed from the same story, and went for Ilvanon, "the perfect". It's pretty, and also speaks of a mix of high expectations and love.

What in this story made me accept the epesse headcanon is the matter of the origin of "T(y)elperinquar" as a name. Vinyar Tengwar (and most recently also NoME) explains how "silver fist" is a name common among the Teleri, famous for their ability to smith silver even among the Noldor, and it is also mentioned how other similar names, such as Tegilbor "calligrapher", are given to people based on their skill. This, however, directly contradicts the fact that elves don't give the same name to more than one person. That statement is problematic in itself (impossible that all elves across all time are aware of all names that ever have been used -- and also of course there's the usual royalty exceptions, that however may well be exceptions because they are royalty), but if it is a common name among the Teleri and we are to keep the duplicate names lore in mind... my only solution is that it's a coveted epesse, given to the very skilled.

Celebrimbor picks it as his chosen and preferred name over FN, already shared by two people and preferred as chosen name by his father, and the potential arrogance of picking his MN with its meaning.

This still led me to problems of both spelling and language choices.

As far as spelling goes, there's several variations. I'm marking with * the one that is not canonically attested, but can be inferred.

Pure Telerin: Telperimpar

Quenya-Telerin compound that maintains the Telerin spelling of silver: Telperinquar

As above, but shortened: Telpinquar

Pure Quenya: *Tyelperinquar

Pure Quenya, shortened: Tyelpinquar

I use all these except the last one at various stages: I decided (though I go back and forth on this) that his household might have used pure Quenya, and his mother sticks to it; the person in Tirion panicks and uses the shortened version Telpinquar, which together with Telperinquar (Telerin spelling maintained) was more common among the Noldor. The Tirion passage exemplifies the uses and applications of these names, how they were given and altered.

This leads me to problems of language and POV, Celebrimbor vs Tyelperinquar. His mother, in her POV, always uses the latter, but Celebrimbor himself uses the former. The true problem here was adapting my feeling that Celebrimbor would be far more used to thinking of himself as Celebrimbor (as opposed to the Quenya name) vs Tolkien's statement that elves do not use names in another language when speaking in X language. This doesn't stay wholly true through the legendarium and the texts, so it's something I've decided to partially ignore when it comes to POV, though I tend to stick to it in first person dialogue. Something that again I try to tackle in the text itself -- when Galadriel tells Celebrimbor which language to speak and which name to use for her.

I am not entirely satisfied with all my choices here and I might revisit them in the future, but for the moment, here we go.

Shibbolething all over Thauron's name

Another language and spelling headache. As I encountered the problem of Sauron, I encountered that of the spelling of his name: the eternal TH/S issue. Were I to have Celebrimbor's mother, and Celebrimbor himself, stick to the Shibboleth? I initially attempted to circumvent this by using Gorthaur, but the issue described just above, about mixing languages, yet again bit me in the ass.

Of course it comes down to characterisation: would Mrs Curufin stick to the Shibboleth, and would Celebrimbor? The matter with Celebrimbor was that I don't believe he spoke Quenya with any real frequency after the Nargothrond business, not as a choice but rather due to circumstances and preferences of those around him. With Ercasse, the conflict is part of the character, and that sadly meant that the TH/S choice became less of a personal choice and more of a political one, as usual.

That got me thinking about the circumstances around her and something interesting came to me: Finarfin spoke Quenya with the Shibboleth, because of the Teleri. And in the Darkening he becomes king in Tirion, and also has to adjust things with the Teleri -- not an easy task, imo, when he turns back only after the pronunciation of the Doom, and not just after the kinslaying occurred. Additionally, the Vanyar spoke preserving TH. Additionally x2, by the Fourth Age, Exilic Quenya (which uses S) is associated with those who rebelled and returned to Aman -- meanwhile any Sindar preserved TH naturally, as it's a sound that never went out of use in Sindarin.

So I chose to take these things and make something of it. If Finarfin maintains TH to keep the Telerin influence; if the Noldor who remain in Aman decide to step closer to the Vanyar in an anti-rebellion reactionary manner and to conform to the speech of the king; if Exilic Quenya gains the lower status of language of the exiles; and considering the canon fact that in later ages the elves are more likely to preserve language rather than change it -- what are our chances that Shibbolething gains opposite connotations as time passes? My conclusion was high chances. So I decided to implement it.

And so Ercasse doesn't have to think about her personal allegiances anymore and has a path built in for herself in these social changes. And Sauron is Thauron. (Unless Galadriel is talking: she doesn't Shibboleth, and uses “Sauron” and “Sindarin”.)

Quotes and canon

Many things I wrote are based on canon snippets. Here I tried to collect them.

On Celebrimbor and the mention of the bath of flames in his speech. It isn't, in fact, a corny lineage reference, but rather a metaphysical or pseudo-physical concept of purification from the Lost Tales:

Yet now the prayers of [their parents] came even to Manwe [the highest Valar], and the Gods had mercy on their unhappy fate, so that those twain Turin and Nienori entered into ... the bath of flame... and so were all their sorrows and stains washed away, and they dwelt as shining Valar among the blessed ones, and now the love of that brother and sister is very fair;

On the naming of Mithril (appears in the upcoming Nature of Middle Earth, as well as already published in Vinyar Tengwar):

[Celebrimbor] was a great silver-smith, and went to Eregion attracted by the rumours of the marvellous metal found in Moria, Moria-silver, to which he gave the name mithril.

On Celebrimbor's ambition and assorted choices, from Letter 131: 

In the first we see a sort of second fall or at least ‘error’ of the Elves. There was nothing wrong essentially in their lingering against counsel, still sadly with the mortal lands of their old heroic deeds. But they wanted to have their cake without eating it. They wanted the peace and bliss and perfect memory of ‘The West’, and yet to remain on the ordinary earth where their prestige as the highest people, above wild Elves, dwarves, and Men, was greater than at the bottom of the hierarchy of Valinor. They thus became obsessed with 'fading’, the mode in which the changes of time (the law of the world under the sun) was perceived by them. They became sad, and their art (shall we say) antiquarian, and their efforts all really a kind of embalming – even though they also retained the old motive of their kind, the adornment of earth, and the healing of its hurts. […] But many of me Elves listened to Sauron. He was still fair in that early time, and his motives and those of the Elves seemed to go partly together: the healing of the desolate lands. Sauron found their weak point in suggesting that, helping one another, they could make Western Middle-earth as beautiful as Valinor. It was really a veiled attack on the gods, an incitement to try and make a separate independent paradise.

Legolas and Aragorn and my choice to use the word love:

"[...]Yet whatever is still to do, I hope to have a part in it, for the honour of the folk of the Lonely Mountain." "And I for the folk of the Great Wood," said Legolas, "and for the love of the Lord of the White Tree [Aragorn]."

Celebrimbor and the Elessar. It must be noted that this Celebrimbor is not Celebrimbor son of Curufin, but I still liked the tidbit of lore. From there my choice to have three different Elessar stones, one made by Feanor, one by Enerdhil of Gondolin, one by Celebrimbor (in the fic redressed to Celebrimbor son of Curufin, and without the romantic love for Galadriel):

But he did not say to Galadriel that he himself was of Gondolin long ago. Therefore he took thought, and began a long delicate labour, and so for Galadriel he made the greatest of his works (save the Three Rings only).And it is said that more subtle and clear was the green gem that he made than that of Enerdhil, but yet its light had less power. For whereas that of Enerdhil was lit by the Sun in its youth, already many years had passed ere Celebrimbor began his work, and nowhere in Middle-earth was the light as clear as it had been, for though Morgoth had been thrust out into the Void and could not enter again, his far shadow lay upon it.Radiant nonetheless was the Elessar of Celebrimbor; and he set it within a great brooch of silver in the likeness of an eagle rising upon outspread wings.

On the vale and the stream where Formenos is located, I utilised this passage from Lost Tales:

[...] here the entire people of the Noldoli are ordered to leave Kor for the rugged dale northwards where the stream Híri plunged underground, and the command to do so seems to have been less a punishment meted out to them by Manwe than a pre-caution and a safeguard. In connection with the place of the banishment of the Noldoli, here called Sirnúmen ('Western Stream') [...]

Relevant LotR quotes about the Eregion passages, used for soil description extrapolations and other elements:

Suddenly Gimli, who had pressed on ahead, called back to them. He was standing on a knoll and pointing to the right. Hurrying up they saw below them a deep and narrow channel. It was empty and silent, and hardly a trickle of water flowed among the brown and redstained stones of its bed; but on the near side there was a path, much broken and decayed, that wound its way among the ruined walls and paving-stones of an ancient highroad. ‘Ah! Here it is at last!’ said Gandalf. ‘This is where the stream ran: Sirannon, the Gate-stream, they used to call it. But what has happened to the water, I cannot guess; it used to be swift and noisy. Come! We must hurry on. We are late.’ [...] "...there is a wholesome air about Hollin. Much evil must befall a country before it wholly forgets the elves, if once they dwelt there." "That is true", said Legolas. "But the Elves of this land were of a race strange to us of the silvan folk, and the trees and the grass do not now remember them: Only I hear the stones lament them: deep they delved us, fair they wrought us, high they builded us; but they are gone. They are gone. They sought the Havens long ago."

More TBA if anything comes to mind.

[rosesloveletters]

Gunmetal.

pairing: Heath Ledger Joker x Fem. Reader

word count: 5,944

warnings: gunplay, fingering, language, blood, medical procedure (stitches)

summary: When you delve into a person’s mind, you find the strangest things; ‘guns are too quick’, J says, ‘you can’t savor all of those little emotions’…perhaps, for one brief moment, J had been wrong.

requested by anonymous: Hello, do you still take requests? I was wondering if you could write a Ledger!Joker fic with smut (gun kinkkkkk and if you’re comfortable the reader getting off on the gun) and aftercare ( cuddles+J trying to cook something for the reader but him accidentally hurting himself so the reader has to stitch him up) ? I also wanted to tell you how I admire your work and what a lovely person you are! Have a nice day :)

notes: Thank you so much for this request, darling! I am SO SORRY it took me this long to fulfill it, but I hope that the length of this piece makes up for it. I have never written anything like this before, so I am really hoping that it turned out alright. I actually researched the proper way to do DIY suturing and I let J put his spin on it lmao. I really appreciate your kind words as well, darling! It means so much to me that you like my work :’) Enjoy!

J had learned all the things that drove you mad with lust, the things that tore straight through you like a blade turned red from fire and forge and scorched your once-pristine soul until your very flesh went up in flames. He sought after those things which made you incoherent with fervent ache and it mattered not how he learned them, but how quickly he could acquire that knowledge and apply it.

You were nothing but a blank canvas to which J wielded each of his weapons, resembling that of an artist’s beloved utensils, with care; a starless night were you and J was the painter who dotted each and every last tiny speck of white into the void.

He had learned to interpret every tiny change in your voice; he knew exactly what he needed to do to leave you breathless and clinging to him for dear love. He lived for the noises you made and he delighted in your quiet moans of pleasure and the way your breathing changed at the will of his measured dedication.

He never thought he would experience that same level of intensity at which you fucked, full of wicked passion and raw, inescapable brutality. It was animalistic and licentious, tinged with a certain malevolence and bloodier even than some of J’s most viscous kills; you were agreeable, having had your eyes opened to a whole new world.

That state of mind was not one you could have believed would come to someone like you.

And even though you could not have been more different, your blackened souls fit like two centerpieces of a puzzle, even if your edges were jagged.

When you delve into a person’s mind, you find the strangest things; ‘guns are too quick’, J says, ‘you can’t savor all of those little emotions’…perhaps, for one brief moment, J had been wrong.

“J…” your lips parted to expel one syllable from a single exhale like it were the only coherent sound you could make and there was a good chance that it was. Your tone was heady with desire, a billowing of smoke from the swath of flames that had been ignited within you at the lone touch of cold metal to your heated skin; the irony of it all made you light-headed and your vision rippled, undulating at the edges like you were looking through a clear glass puddle.

The man in question cared little for such nuances when he was met with them, yet he still held the inexplicable desire to coax them out of you each and every time.

You maintained a grip on J’s shoulder for balance and anchorage, fearful were you to let go in any case that the rest of the world might slip out from under you, as the barrel of an unloaded handgun brushed over one hardened nipple. You gasped at the contact and arched into that simple touch, body seeking friction and attention from only the second most deadly thing that was in your bedroom that night, the first being the one who wielded it.

The smooth steel rapidly warmed in J’s hand; he positioned the gun at the base of your navel as he watched you squirm, his bloodied lips parting in a twisted version of a smile. You were right where he wanted you; it was not enough.

J would only give in to what you desired when you were delirious and close to tears, bound in raw, sweltering sexual arousal and the sheer, excruciating excitement was too much for your delicate system to handle. Only then would J relent and be merciful; how long you could remain impassive towards this state was unclear, but J’s ministrations were firm and coaxing, easing you slowly into the unknown until you were unable to protest and then he would pull you under the weight of his current where you remained captive until you could no longer breathe.

That was the way things worked with J, you had come to realize, and no matter how much you scrabbled for purchase he was the one to push you over the precipice.

Excruciatingly slowly did J lower the deadly weapon in between your legs, the cold metal a stark contrast against your skin which felt as though it were on fire. Everything that J did to you scorched a path of flame with every touch, every ghosting of his fingertips left a black imprint on your soul and you loved him all the more for it.

Everything that J did to you came at a price; the vehemence in his touches were clear: your gratification was worthwhile to him and that itself seemed almost like a lapse in judgement.

You spread your legs, unbidden, and the appreciative noise that J made spoke volumes of his respect for your quick-witted obedience. His hand tightened minutely on the weapon as he probed forward, stroking your slick folds and gathering your wetness for ease of entry. You mumbled incoherently as you arched against the weapon, enraptured by J’s careful attention to detail and exhilarated were you for his next move. A chess game had your lives become and delicate must every calculation be so not to fall behind; you had not been anticipating this move. J had the upper-hand and never had you been more eager to hand him the reigns.

There was some distinct carnality in the way of using a gun for pleasure, an oddity that drew you closer to J and for that were you grateful. Nothing could have swayed your decision in that moment, perhaps even J himself, to reconsider. You laid motionless beneath him, a testament to his ownership, as wanton moans escaped your lips. Unsurprisingly skilled was J in the art and understanding of weaponry; for all you had known, guns were a simple black and white, how little you knew that there was more to J than life or death.

It was not the way in which a gun was responsible for death, but the one who wielded it and how they chose to use it.

‘Guns are not quick after all, J mused, ‘perhaps those who prefer to use guns are too quick to pull the trigger.’

Your hips lifted slightly above the plush mattress and J guided the tip of the gun along your slit. His fingers were sticky with your juices and his scars pulled taut and creased as he grinned, spindly as if crawling up his cheeks like a spider. Unforgiving metal grazed your swollen clit and you jolted, aware of your reflexes and how you had nearly bumped heads with him as J leered over you. He managed to keep hold of the gun, putting a bit more distance between the two of you as he probed lower still and kept his hand wrapped tightly around the grip.

“Relax, doll,” J cooed, silver tongue of his coming out to play, “don’t, ah, tense up.”

He spoke to you so soothingly it was impossible not to do as you were told. You felt your muscles beginning to relax again as J positioned the gun at your entrance for the second time in the last five minutes; you suppressed a cry as the tip of the barrel slipped inside of you.

J had not needed to prep you more than what little had already been done. The thought alone of this man doing a thing like this to you was enough to leave you soaking. Your body shivered and pleasantly convulsed as J withdrew the gun and slowly slid it back inside, deeper and deeper with each languid thrust. He was mirroring his own movements he had grown so accustomed to while he pleasured you with his body; he was careful to mimic what you were used to and did not exceed what he was aware you could handle. It was a science J knew better than all, for he knew you. He knew what was too much, but also he knew what was just what you needed…

“Oh, J!” Your low moan made his eyes flicker to yours, checking to make sure he had not unintentionally harmed you, but your eyes told a different story. You were watching his arm and the way his taut muscles bunched and flexed beneath the haphazardly hexagonal patterned shirt he donned. Lust pooled inside your pupils like swirling galaxies of desire; you were pleased thus far and you had J to thank for that.

“Ya like that, doll?” he crooned, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his scars, “want more?”

To his great pleasure, you nodded and J let the barrel slide in a little further, daring to see just how deeply he could reach without having you cry out in pain. Your hips bucked slightly as J found his rhythm, thrusting the gun in and out of you as he would have with his fingers. The weapon was an extension of them, no differently than it would have been outside of the bedroom.

Your arousal had leaked onto the sheets the longer you felt the gun inside of you, the cold metal warming from your tender, heated core. J edged you closer and closer to your peak, yet something told you J was after much, much more. His eyes darkened maliciously and, without preamble, he had removed the barrel from your aching core and swiftly replaced it with two gloved fingers. You cried out at the drastic change in size; the gloves made his long fingers thicker and you keened as his index finger forced its way in deep and stroked you in a come-hither motion.

You whimpered, your sticky juices coating his leather gloves and J leaned in close, “get on your knees.”

“J…” you mumbled and J tutted.

“Do not…argue.”

His tone had taken on a deep timbre as he growled lowly into your ear and without much choice were you hauled onto your knees as he had asked of you. Your mind swam with possibilities and you were beginning to feel lightheaded again; J retracted his fingers and used the thick stitching on his gloves to his advantage as he massaged your sensitive bud, goading you and inching you closer and closer to orgasm.

J would not let you experience that kind of pleasure so soon; the desirous look in your eyes left him with a slight twinge of guilt, but it faded almost as fast as your approaching climax did once he left your clit entirely.

You whimpered pitifully, but J did not leave you waiting long. His fingers closed around the gun as he brought it in between your legs and repositioned it so that you could sink onto it. A change of pace, it seemed, but you were wiser. J did not receive any physical gratification from this, but the implication was there; he wanted to see you riding it, his innocent little bunny riding the weapon of his choice did nothing to lessen the unbearable, aching erection in his pants.

You desperately sought his approval, in all things, and thus did you begin to ride the gun with vigor as he held it steady for you, “is this what you wanted me to do, J?” you asked timidly.

The man’s feral growl made your insides shudder and you almost came on the spot from that sound alone, “fuck…” he hissed, matching you thrust for thrust as the slick barrel slid further inside of you, “that’s the way, sweets. Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed no further encouragement. You rode the gun as you would have ridden him, deliberate and firm and full of desperate need. J babbled soft praises and words of approval to you as you rode the weapon, but your focus was trained solely on the sound. His voice fell to an immeasurably low octave and was raspy like the crunch of gravel under his heavy boots. You wanted J to let you cum, but even more than that, you wanted him to make you feel like this all of the time.

No stranger to sins of the flesh were you whenever J was around. He took you over the edge every chance he could and you loved him all the more for the way he made you feel and the things he did both to you and with you. Suddenly, his lips came crashing down onto yours like raging tidal waves and your hips stuttered, pace faltering as your muscles clenched and seized around the intrusion and your core pulsed rapidly as you came. Pressure was expelled from your abdomen and you felt a warm, tingling feeling rush down your legs as goosebumps sprang up on your skin.

“J…” you breathed, barely able to achieve any sense of coherency as you called his name on a cracked whisper. You were hardly aware of his lingering kisses as your addled mind raced and his scars caressed your soft cheeks; his mangled skin pressed into yours as he nuzzled you, taking it upon himself to comfort you and ease you through your initial burst of emotions. Your mind and body buzzed alike and you felt as though you were wrapped in cotton from head to toe. J coaxed you into a prone position and he extracted the weapon from within you.

He moved off of the bed and went about cleaning you up; he brought a damp cloth in from the bathroom and wiped your legs free of your stickiness. Your eyelids had begun to droop as you resigned yourself to allowing your most intimate area  to being cleaned like this; never would you have allowed anyone other than J to administer cleanliness and aftercare in this way. You trusted him, even if your instincts sometimes left you questioning how wise that fact was.

After you were adequately cleaned off, J returned to the bathroom, this time with the presence of mind to bring the gun, and began to scrub it free of any sensual residue. J kept his thoughts to himself as he cleaned his weapon; it was not unusual for you to hear the quiet mumblings of J filling your ears as he talked quietly to himself, but he was satisfied. No more did he need or want from you that he could not take after you were well-rested and cared for. Another session would come and then it would be his turn. J could wait for the things he wanted most, patient was he when it mattered.

The gun was cleaned and dried and left in a safe place atop your dresser as J exited the bathroom and found you curled on your side underneath the duvet. J made a mental note that he would need to devest your mattress and throw the sheets in the wash before the night was over, but for now he clambered in behind you, yanking the corner of the sheet out of your grip as he settled in. J’s broad frame fit snugly against your back and you pressed in against him, bodies connecting and solidifying his presence in your mind and in your life. Sometimes the prospect that J was both real and yours was too much for you to imagine and so a constant physical reminder became something that you craved.

His legs bent at the knee and framed yours as you laid against him. His big toe probed at one of the bottoms of your feet and you snorted, “what are you doing?”

He grunted and leaned over you, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear; you turned, unable to keep your hands off of him, and embraced him. You nuzzled happily into his chest, inhaling his usual musk.

He smelled different these days and it had taken you a while to determine what it was that you could not pinpoint. Every time this week that you had held him had been the same; J was not strict on hygiene and your only hope was that what you had been smelling was not the result of that, but no. What you smelled on him was familiar and pleasant, like that of a home from whence you had long visited and that you could not return to, not until now. What you smelled on J was much stronger than that. It awakened your very soul, a bolt of lightning which struck you and traveled directly down your spine and filled you with new life and breath. You felt it pull on you like an invisible string tied directly to his heart; on him did you smell you.

You began to kiss his neck, the tender spot beneath his jaw that his makeup did not touch and which always elicited a pleasant response from him every time you laved at it. His gentle moan of gratitude for the attention was music to your ears and, as you continued, you listened quietly for any other signs of approval he might give. His skin smelled of sweat and rainwater; you loved his scent and J knew it.

You nipped his neck, delivering love-bites to the spots you knew drove him wild. Slowly and with carefully measured gyrations did you rut against him, desperate to ignite that fire once more and give him exactly what you knew he longed for. J’s low growl resonated in your chest as much as his own and you took it as a sign of encouragement; your hand slipped between your two bodies, searching lower for the hardened flesh you knew would be there.

Your stomach growled and, just as quickly as it had all begun, J snatched your hand away from his crotch.

“What are you doing?” you grumbled, sitting up indignantly with a slight harumph as J was nearly out of bed already.

“Ain’t that clear?” his response matched your indignance, “makin’ ya somethin’ to eat.”

“J, you don’t have to do that. I am perfectly capable of-”

“I’m gonna,” he countered and the look in his eyes said ‘try and stop me’.

Knowing that any protests would be futile, you said nothing more as J strode from the bedroom and retreated to the kitchen to supposedly bring you food. It was somewhat unlike him to offer so much to you without having given to him in turn. There would be a time and place for you to pay back this favor, however J was not so cruel as to make you wait for a meal.

You stretched out on the bed and waited with bated breath, barely able to quell your giggles as you heard him banging around in the kitchen doing heaven knows what.

All too quickly had it become quiet again and you soon found yourself beginning to slip into a state of consciousness to which you rarely, if ever, have visited. You were aware that J would be bringing you something to eat soon and yet that did nothing to slow the inevitable; you found yourself missing J’s warmth as you laid on your side, facing away from the door. To what end would you go to if it meant having him beside you once more?

Almost asleep are you, pondering those possibilities, when the bedroom door bursts open, swinging on its henges until crashing into the wall behind. You nearly jumped out of your skin and you sat up quickly and deliberately looked his way, but J had returned much too quickly to have had the time to prepare anything of substance like he had seemed to be insinuating he would. Surely he was not this fast and the fact that he did not stop by your bed gave little remedy to the sinking feeling in your stomach that something was wrong. That, and as J made his way silently towards the bathroom, you noticed an abrupt change in his appearance that he had removed his shirt and wrapped it tightly around his right forearm that he was cradling to his chest like a delicate newborn. Something was wrong, you knew for certain, but what that something was you knew not.

J had not stopped in his haste to get into the bathroom and he had tried to kick the door shut but the door itself was not heavy enough to close without deliberately being shut. It had swung inward just enough for J’s reflection to be visible inside the mirror; you could see him digging inside your medicine cabinet, though you could not tell what he was after. A moment later, as you stumbled toward the open door did you catch a glimpse of the arm that was encased in blue, hexagonal fabric and the flash of red that had crossed your vision gave you pause.

A barely audible gasp escaped you as you approached the door and peered inside. J had given up on his search within the cabinet, decidedly finding nothing of use for the large, gaping wound on his forearm, and had turned on the faucet at full flow and thrust his arm beneath the spray of tepid water. He seethed in pain as he washed the still-bleeding cut; how it had happened you knew not, but J had sustained a nasty gash on his arm that, from the looks of it, would be unable to heal on its own, at least without stitches. The thick, oozing liquid matched the color he had painted on his scars and you marveled at the morbid beauty of his crimson blood.

He shut off the sink and reached for one of your hand towels, scarlet drops spattering onto the stark white surface of the sink bowl. You pushed open the door with your foot, finally deciding it was time to make your presence known; J did not look up until he had the towel firmly over his arm, pressing it to the cut in an effort to stop the bleeding.

He met your measured gaze and said nothing for a long moment as he assessed the situation and tried to determine what should occur, “you’re, ah…gonna have to stitch me up.”

“I’m what?”

The emphasis you put on those two words was not nearly enough to convey the seriousness of the situation or was indicative to how uncomfortable you felt at this proposition. You had little to no knowledge of this particular aspect of care and, though you knew more than the average person when it came to serious wounds because of J, you were not convinced you had what it took to stitch up a wound of this size.

J held up the arm he was favoring, “As much as I’d like to do it myself,” his response was laced with sarcasm and contempt for the situation that he was currently in, his lips twitching irritably as he fought to control his quick temper, “I can’t get ‘em straight enough with my left hand.”

You weighed your options carefully: you could not take J to the emergency room. He was too easily recognizable and the GCPD would swarm him immediately. You had to handle this here, whether you would do a good job or not remained to be seen, but there was no other alternative and time was running out. The longer the wound remained open left more of a chance of infection; you would have to stitch him up.

“Alright, J,” you relented, “where do you keep your medical supplies?”

You were aware that J had a hidden stash of medical paraphernalia in your house, though where those things were kept you were not privy to. J’s work came at a high risk of injury; it would have been suicide not to have been prepared.

“Check your dresser. Bottom drawer, right side…under your clothes. Should be, ah…a case there with what ya need.”

You nodded and scuttled off to find the supplies that J had hidden in your bedroom. He must have had things scattered throughout your home; it was a miracle he could remember where everything was kept, but so far so good.

You made a beeline for the dresser and tore all of your clothes out of the bottom drawer. Sure enough, on the right side near the back of the drawer itself, was a small black case that was similar in size to a makeup bag. You grabbed it and returned to the bathroom with it.

Under the incandescent glow of the light fixtures, you removed all contents from the black bag: a much smaller case with some wicked-looking needles and other instruments you did not recognize, a couple of spools of thread used specifically for stitches, a couple of half-used rolls of gauze and several large bandages. From the looks of the equipment, it did not appear that J had to use them very often. You were well aware that he had stitched himself up on more than one occasion, but recently he had not come home in need of serious medical care. A couple of bandages and rolls of gauze were necessary here and there, though rarely was much more was ever needed.

You did not ask J how he had gotten this particular cut; the less you knew, the better. Also, because you had a faint idea that perhaps later you might find the knife which had cut him, sticking blade down in the cutting board with dried blood on its’ edges.

You shuddered at the mental image as you peered curiously at the materials in front of you. For all you knew, the needles were already sterilized, but you didn’t ask too many questions that you knew J would not answer anyway.

You were unaware of where the proper place was to start and so you looked to J for answers and found him watching you intently from beneath a hooded gaze, “grab that one, second from the left,” J indicated the second largest, somewhat curved needle within his arsenal, “and, ah…thread it through. Grab the, uh, needle driver and the forceps. You’re gonna start at the end, here.”

You had next to no idea of what J was asking you to grab and he had to point out each instrument to you as if he himself were a doctor. When one often found themselves in situations such as this, one must learn the tools of the trade. He told you how to lock the needle clamp into place and had you pull the thread itself out of the suture kit.

You doubted J used each of these tools as intended when he was the one stitching himself up; one could not be bothered to do as thorough of a job if having to do it yourself.

J let the towel drop away from the cut and your eyes widened at the sheer size of what you were to be working with. You could feel your hands begin to shake; how could you possibly do this?

You felt fingers enclose around your own and you looked down to see J’s left hand reaching for yours, “none of that,” he indicated your shaking hands as he squeezed your fingers only once, “gotta have steady hands for this, sweets.”

You were well aware of what you needed to do; if only your mind and body were in sync could you get the job done. You inhaled, steadying yourself, as you proffered the threaded needle, held within the needle driver, in front of him like he had instructed, “what next?”

“You’re gotta pull it open,” J smirked as he caught your slight grimace, “Just slightly. The forceps will help ya line it up. Gonna stick me right here. Try an’ keep it at a ninety-degree angle. Don’t go in too deep either…I don’t need to be losin’ any more blood.”

Your hands threatened to start shaking again as J methodically explained to you the steps you needed to take and the process to which you would completely stitch up his wound. You had never been asked to do anything remotely similar to this in your entire life and you felt sick at the prospect. You steeled yourself the best you could, trying not to think about the gaping wound in front of you, though it was easier said than done.

At J’s behest did you use the forceps to line up the edges of the cut as he had instructed and push the needle into his skin with measured calculation and accuracy.

J hissed in pain as the needle easily slid through the thin layer of skin and poked out through the other side as he had directed you, making no further exclamations or indication that he was in pain; J’s threshold tolerance for pain had to be high.

“What now?”

J huffed, “unlock the needle driver,” he grumbled; from the tone he was using you could tell he was far from comfortable and so you swiftly did as you were told, wanting to save J the pain and discomfort of an overly lengthy procedure, “reattach it at the tip. Pull a little of the thread through an’ release the needle. After that, you’re gonna use your left hand to hold it and wrap the thread ‘round the tip of the needle holder twice.”

Carefully and to the best of your ability did you follow the words that J was saying; how many times, you wondered, had he done this? The directions he gave you could have been comical, save for the single fact that you were the one doing the stitching. The words he said sounded foreign to you and even though you were quite unaware if you were doing this properly, J had not stopped you.

“I need ya to focus, doll,” J’s voice cut through the fog as you ceased all movement and waited patiently for the next steps, “now, you’re gonna open the needle holder and grab that thread right there…on the right side. Pull the long part with your left hand.”

J watched you carefully, pleased with how well you were doing thus far, “thaaat’s it, there ya go,” he praised you as you did exactly as you were told; he had trained you oh, so well.

You watched as you continued to pull and the part of the thread which was wrapped around the needle holder slid off and you gasped, afraid you had done something wrong, but J shook his head, “that’s good. It’ll do that. Make sure ya tighten it…want that knot to lie flat.”

The corner of J’s eyelid twitched at nearly five second intervals; it was impressive how he had managed to retain his composure to give instructions to you, but then again, what choice did he have? J was an unstoppable force, it seemed, and nothing could topple him. You were beginning to understand more about the man before you than you ever had considered and the knowledge he possessed. J was something of an enigma and you only wished for him to open up to you and provide some source of insight into who he really was, though the only thing about J that was ever opened to you was his body in the form of cuts you would be asked to stitch.

For how badly you longed to delve into his mind, you remained the reason he was closed off.

“Alright, alright, don’t get ahead of yourself,” J inhaled noisily through his nostrils, “Take that long end of the thread and wrap it around there once, just the way ya had before but once this time. Open the needle driver and grab the shorter end now. Pull on the long part there, doll, with your left hand and you’ll pull that knot tight.”

You finished the knot with little difficulty. You were beginning to feel somewhat proud of yourself and the job you were doing; had it not been for J, you never could have done this on your own, but the sheer knowledge that you were the one to have done the deed made you brim with pride.

“Good job, sweets,” J winced as you pulled on the thread and secured the second knot, “do that again, but wrap it counter-clockwise this time. Don’t want the knot to, ah slip.”

You did as you were told and finished the third and final knot with relative ease compared to the first and second one.

“Cut the thread, doll. About a…quarter inch down you’re gonna do another one. Remember, ya want the knots all on the same side.”

Your mind reeled at the tediousness of the process and how long the cut was in size; you had your work cut out for you, though J was the perfect patient. He tried to remain impassive as you went to work with much less help from him the longer you continued.

You cut the thread after securing each knot thrice, making sure you followed his every direction and paid heed to which movements and made him flinch and how much pressure was safe to apply that would not make him squirm uncomfortably while you worked.

It was over sooner than you had anticipated and after J had deemed each knot to be adequately constructed, he instructed you to bandage it for him. You did your best with what haphazard bandages and gauze he had available and by the time you had finished, it appeared as though an actual medical professional had sutured and bandaged his large wound.

You were methodical and paid close attention to detail, both of which saved you from making any critical errors.

Your bathroom had been thoroughly trashed in your haste to care for J; his shirt lay in a crumpled heap on the floor at his right and was soaked through with dark blood. The towel he had used to stop the bleeding after he’d washed the cut was soaked as well, from water as well as blood, and had been left lying on the floor between the two of you. There were blood splatters on your pants legs and your shirt and in the sink and on J’s chest…

“Alright,” you sighed as you stepped back and let him admire your work, “get out. I’ve got to clean this up.”

J tilted his head, nodding his approval at your handiwork, “ya did good, doll, for your first time.”

You scoffed, shaking your head at him in disbelief, “well, I hope this first time is the last time, but I know you better than that.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile and without another word did he step out of your way and exit the bathroom.

You set to work on washing the blood out of the sink and wiping it off of the floor; the next hour or so would you spend treating the bloodstains on your clothes and his before all would go into the wash.

It did not bother you to be left to clean up after him, nor did it upset you that you would also be the one to make dinner for the two of you. Any relationship thrived off of give and take; it was your turn to give. J did much for you, even if the repercussions seemed too great for one to bear.

You loved him, because he tried. J did not give up on you easily. He gave to you what you desired of anyone: a chance to be yourself without judgement and the freedom to explore the kind of person you wanted to be.

J had always been a taker, but not because he was selfish; you just had so much to give.

[dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you]

I saw in your tags that there’s some old destiel fic you like on ffn. Do you have any recs ? :)

omg I haven’t been on there in years! like last time I read anything on there was like in 2014 lmao xD

32 fics total - I just checked and all of them are still up...there’s like 30+ more that I bookmarked that isn’t on the list cuz I’m not sure if they’re destiel fics or not so I gotta re-read them

all the ones below are fics that I’ve recced before in the past

1. All Angels Need Their Wings - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 29,784 (2012)

Dean never thought that Castiel would ever return. And when he did, he came in a very unexpected way, a very horrifying way. SLASH Castiel/Dean. Wing-Kink. Takes place in season 7. AU.

2. Heart Trouble - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 74,320 (2011)

Dean's having a harder and harder time of denying what he feels for a certain blue-eyed friend of his. And it's making him a little ornery, and a lot confused.

3. It Hurts - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 29,963 (2013)

Inspired by the S9 Trailer Cas had watched the angels fall and with them, his self worth. Now human facing the challenges of navigating mortality he also tries to find a place for himself in this new world. It is a hope he has to find without the Winchesters, without Dean. So now he runs, from both Heaven, Hell and from Dean. 

4. Small Problem - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 13,310 (2011)

A cursed artifact has made Castiel miniature, it's amusing for the Winchesters at first until they realize he might stay that way forever. Slash Dean/Castiel Please R&R

5 My Broken Angel - RATING: M | LENGTH: 24,999 (2010)

When Castiel disappears from his vessel, Dean is concerned. But when Castiel reappears and seems to avoid him, Dean is heartbroken. Set mid-season 5. 

6. A Hand - RATING: M | LENGTH: 23,474 (2010)

Dean/Cas, multichapter, slight AU. Dean's busy trying to re-soulify his brother, but Cas needs help. Maybe it's time Dean gave it to him. Ch. 15: Dean glared indignantly. "I find the term 'lovebirds' to be offensive. We prefer to be called 'sex-falcons.'" 

7. Saving Grace - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 38,602 (2010)

With everything that was going wrong in Dean's life, it took him a while to realize that the person close to him that really needed the most help was Castiel. 

8. Candy - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 98,068 (2013)

The Fall from Heaven changed everything. The supernatural no longer hidden. Angels roaming the planet. Sam and Dean's immediate concerns were on a smaller scale. What do you do with the former King of Hell? Where is Castiel?... Destiel/Mute!Human!Cas/Angst!Dean

9. Dude, Dean Looks Like a Lady - RATING: M | LENGTH: 20,774 *gen/pre-slash* (2013)

Sam's good, Cas has been found, and demons everywhere seem to be on hiatus. Seems like things are looking up for Team Free Will that is until Dean wakes up with his very own vagina anyway. Warnings: Fem!Dean, Destiel, female masturbation and S8 spoilers.

10. Evil Intent, Trials of Love, & Finding My Angel - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 36,729, 70,453, & 59,941 *rape, graphic torture, violence* (2009)

Anna rapes Castiel and uses a method that torments him more than anything imaginable. WARNING: Rape and Castiel/Dean makes sense when you read it . If you don't like then don't read!

11. Cascade - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 44,626 (2013)

"And if you fall as Lucifer fell, you fall in flames!" An 8x23 coda. 

12. Count The Cracks, Hear The Shatters, Feel The Insanities - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 44,626 *gen/pre-slash* (2013)

They've walked miles on gravel roads that led to hell and back but the journey never quite ends. This is the story of Castiel and the Winchesters after the angels fell from heaven. Post Season 8. 

13. Damn Straight & Wait Wait Wait - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: about 21,000 (2010)

Humorous Cas/Dean, with multiple POVs. Slight AU. Fluffy. Ch. 5: Sam sat in the Impala in the motel parking lot, praying that three and a half hours at the library had been long enough.

14. Entertaining Angels - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 43,659 *gen/pre-slash* (2008)

A strange boy shows up at Dean and Sam’s motel room. Maybe he needs help, or maybe he’s there to help them—they can’t quite tell. Spoilers through 4.10. Not an OC. 

15. Happy Friggin’ Valentine’s Day - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 22,771 (2010)

SLASH. It all started with Dean's perfectly healthy hatred of frivilous holidays and a much-coveted sack of dust. Poor Castiel doesn't fully understand 'romance' to begin with, and this crash course is most unwelcome. 

16. I’m Just a Love Machine - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 29,200 (2011)

The Impala finally gets the chance to love Dean back. The problem is, Castiel seems to be in its way. 

17. It’s The Great Destiel Shipper, Sam Winchester - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 49,641 (2012)

What's Sam really doing all that time on the computer? Fangirling. Over Chuck's Supernatural books. Now Wincest might be a bit too much to deal with, but Destiel he might be able to get on board with... Especially after being around the two people involved for three days straight. 

18. Pain in the Head - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 78,771 *character death* (2011)

It started out slow. "Since when do angels have headaches?" "Since they become human." Established Dean/Cas. Sort of AU. PG-13. Complete. 

19. Sleep in Heavenly Peace - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 45,517 *christmas fic* (2013)

Dean wants to have a nice, peaceful Christmas for once, but it seems like the universe won't let him. Dean/Castiel. Post-8.08 (Hunteri Heroici) AU. First in "Holidays With the Winchesters are Always Fun." 

20. The Shattered One - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 94,021 *grace mpreg* (2012)

When it struck Castiel, it dropped him out of the sky. He set down the first place he could find. He stood in a field in Switzerland, swaying on his feet and staring down at his body, dazed by what it had just done.

21. This Cupid Isn’t Stupid - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 41,572 (2012)

Dean receives a shock when he wakes up to discover Castiel has returned. Why is the angel suddenly back? Why have his powers dimmed? And.. Why are he and Dean joined together by an invisible rope!

22. Wild Horses, Cas - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 23,505 (2013)

(S8 Spoilers (story is set in S9), Sickfic! Destiel, Minor Sabriel). When Cas comes down with a bad case of Pneumonia it leaves Dean feeling more protective over his friend than ever, but will it also lead to Dean's admittance of his feelings towards his friend? 

23. Wrong - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 51,384 (2010)

Angels are not supposed to drop out of the sky into motel rooms, broken and beaten. They're not supposed to bleed like that. It was all wrong. 

24. The Reluctant Contestant - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 50,502 (2012)

AU When Gabriel is hired as a new host for a dating show, Cas has no choice but to follow his brother along as part of the camera crew. Forced at the last minute to be a contestant, he is shocked when Dean Winchester continually refuses to eliminate him. 

25. The Ugly Duckling - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 81,676 (2012)

Castiel: a nerdy, skinny thing with a crush on the the most popular guy in class. Being unpopular isn't easy and it's worse when the homophobic school figures him out. A small struggle to be noticed by his crush is turned into a huge struggle for himself and his dignity. But bullying can get the better of anyone. Slash. Destiel rated M for later chapters. 

26. Nameless - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 77,882 (2013)

AU. Everyone has the name of their soulmate written on their wrist at birth. Well, everyone except Dean Winchester. Complete. 

27. Cufflinks - RATING: M | LENGTH: 61,845 (2012)

The world is full of creatures that prey on humans. It is up to 'Hunters' to fight against the dark. Lucky Hunters rely on the help of angels they have bound to their service. Sam and Dean may be good Hunters, but they have yet to capture an angel. One day, Sam finds an angel and seizes the opportunity to bind the angel to himself. Little did they know what they were getting into. 

28. Angel Training - RATING: M | LENGTH: 95,700, Angel Training 2: Save Us - RATING: M | LENGTH: 76,888, & Angel Training 3: Uprising - RATING: M | LENGTH: 89,512 (2011)

In a world where angels are common and the most privileged or skilled people are able to own one; the world's angelic hierarchy is about to change when Dean Winchester receives a wild and recently caught angel.

29. Chasing Your Shadow - RATING: M | LENGTH: 92,077 (2012)

The prophecy says that when Castiel turns twenty-three winters old, a stranger will come into his life and bring a lot of suffering. But do prophecies always come true? Demon Dean/human Castiel AU 

30. The Holiday - RATING: M | LENGTH: 32,088 (2011)

Castiel and Sam are unlucky in both life and love, so they swap houses for the holidays. Both find the experience highly...interesting. Dean/Castiel Sam/Gabriel

31. And In Your Arms I Shall Find Shelter- RATING: M | LENGTH: 33,824 (2012)

Dean Winchester is a long forgotten painter who suddenly receives an order for a painting from a rich man - Crowley. He is about to start painting when Castiel - his personal reaper visits him. The main question is: Will Castiel give Dean enough time to finish the painting? 

32. Jar of Hearts - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 127,192 (2013)

February being the supposed 'month of love' people seem to forget that it's also one of the coldest times of the year. Valentine's Day themed events in a cafe turned bar is how Dean managed the courage to speak to the locally famous singer and somehow score a date, a relationship, and a man he didn't deserve out of the deal. Destiel college/uniAU some Sabriel 

[ex-silent-reader]

Happy Holidays fic recs

Happy Holidays everybody!  I haven’t been commenting on posts individually like i normally like to so it’s kind of backed up a bit. I still really want to thank all the authors who have been sharing their stories with us and leave a lil itty bitty comment before I can expand on them for their own post so here’s that! Also I’ve seen a lot of undeserved negativity being spread to a lot of authors and I just want to thank you all for sharing your work on this platform FOR FREE and remind you that you literally owe us nothing and I’m super grateful that you continue to share with us. These are just some stories that I’ve read this week, i’d def like to do another of these soon :)

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of these stories, each story is owned by the author tagged next to the title and the summary is pulled verbatim from their page, in quotation marks. The only thing I own is gratitude towards these authors for sharing their work with us.

Also all stories are rated M 

Also, a loooot of stories have come out lately and I haven’t had a chance to get to a lot of them yet but i hope to soon so I’ll hopefully make another one of these soon, but yea pls know that I’m not purposefully ignoring or excluding anything or anyone.

Jin;

last christmas | ksj x reader - @xjoonchildx

“ summary: it was bound to happen, eventually. after months of near misses at barbecues and birthdays, there’s no avoiding your ex-husband at hoseok’s annual christmas bash. but it’s fine, totally fine, because you’re both adults – and you’ve both brought dates and booze. what could go wrong? “

This story was amazing! First of all, I love the comedy surrounding the entire situation, Hobi with his 8 trees and instigator Yoongi who also wants them to get their shit together for Hobi’s sake. I love all au’s but sometimes exes to lovers is difficult for me to side with because I don’t see how people can bounce back from so much hurt but in this story it felt very natural how they were able to find their way back together and I really enjoyed the insight to their relationship, especially near the end.

Yoongi;

CREAM & SUGA -  @snackhobi

“summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.”

Ya’ll. Yoongi fics just truly hit different. The plot of this was so adorable and him going out of his way like that to keep her engaged was so cute and just very Yoongi like. I also just really loved the descriptions in this, like how oc described making the drinks, it just made everything seem so real.

universe | myg drabble - @personasintro

                           “❥𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; you’re his whole universe, you just don’t know it yet – or him” 

ASDFGHJKL! Like, I really have no words for the way this made me feel. Like, ik it’s not a super healthy dynamic but the thought of a fixated Yoongi is.. I loved reading Yoongi being so fixated with oc and doing everything i his capability to meet her. I also was v interested in the part where he bumped into her and she didn’t react the way he expected because it made me think about how he (or any character’s with his mindset) cope when the fantast and reality don’t match.

Hobi;

 A Holly, Jolly Crisis (M) -  @kpopfanfictrash

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

This story made me feel so many things. Like there’s so many layers to it and both of their hurt, her visiting him and feeling betrayed while he felt pushed aside. This story was so complex and both characters had so many layers to them, but it’s still sooo well written and I was invested the entire time. Like, I genuinely can’t get my feelings out in a brief way so I’m looking forward to screaming about this in it’s own post.

Joonie;

 my only wish - knj | m - @ppersonna

“✹ summary- There are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug. “

UM! Absolutely adored this story, of course it would be a fellow cream suit enthusiast who can bring so much justice to dreamy Joon. I loved how he was portrayed here and getting insight to both his and oc’s feelings made me root for them soooo hard.

new parent syndrome - @1kook

“ SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)”

The tag “dreamy husband joon” is extremelyyyy accurate. This story was just so cute and their relationship truly felt so intimate and lovely. Her being on the phone with Jimin while Joon was smash SENT me but it was also so hot like ASDFGHJKL that man can do no wrong tbh.

  laundry day - @snackhobi

“summary: You’ve been letting your laundry pile up for a little too long. Fortunately, your neighbour Namjoon is there to lend you a hand. “

Pls this was so hot. Like, I’ve made it very clear thus far that I’m a total simp for Joon, the thought of that man going strawberry picking and thinking to grab some for oc genuinely makes me SWOON. He’s an actual heartthrob.

   The Sweet in Sweet Potato - @sahmfanficbts

“ Summary: You’ve been roommates for years. Now that you’re catching feelings, it’s time to run away. “

This entire series has had me so invested but this chapter!!! I’m always a sucker for Joon but the way he was so clearly in her feels (for OC) but wanting to respect her need for distance, what a man. And I was so happy to see oc working through her feeling towards Joon.

Last Christmas (M) - @jjungkookislife

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

Damn, I really love when a misunderstanding is such a big catalyst for a bunch of drama/angst. It just really ups the tension for me because as the reader I know it was a misunderstanding but clearly the character’s don’t, so it just makes me really eager to see how they make amends. I really enjoyed seeing them slowly make amends and grow. Also the buildup to them deciding to give the relationship another go made the ending soooo satisfying.

Jimin;

 picking petals｜pjm - @taestybae

“ summary ↣ you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get. “

I really have no words for this, like it was so asaifgjhhkc. First of all, I really enjoyed that it was through his pov, i don’t typically read stories like that (I just don’t often come across them) but this still felt so natural that I didn’t even realize until right now, writing this comment. Also, the imagery was so well described and the anticipation built made this story so enjoyable.

Taehyung;

 Deepest Indulgence  - @scribblemetae

“ Description/Summary: The world is a mess, gangs, violence and rates of poverty are at an all time high since corporations took over everything. You built your Sex house to be a safe place and a sanctuary for those in need, promising to protect anybody who needs it. What happens when an extremely attractive and very rich man walks through the door begging for a job at Deepest Indulgence? The one sex house that wasn’t meant for men like himself. “

I AM SO EAGER FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER TO COME OUT. Like, idk how I can even describe this correctly but this just feel so much like Tae...???? Like idk if that makes sense but just Tae being this v sensual man, but there still being more to him than that, just makes so much sense and even the word “indulgence” is just so sensual and reminiscent of him. Also, the storyline so far is something I’ve personally never seen before and I’m super invested in this world and story already. Very eager to see how their relationship progresses.

 let it snow | kth - @suga-kookiemonster

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

It’s the way I read this last night, it took me exactly an hour (3am to 4 am cause I’m a CLOWN), and I was so invested that I kept putting off sleep to finish it. Man, i’m a simp for this Tae (just like he is for oc lmao). I really enjoyed reading it and the mention of Jisoo earlier in the story had me on the edge of my seat the whole time wondering when things were gonna blow up. Everything was just so sweet and fluffy, and the confession really made me feel so soft for them both cause they both were so in their own heads and feelings they couldn’t see what was in front of them so I really enjoyed the confessions.

Jungkook;

Thank you, baby - @scribblemetae

“ Turns out the boy whos been stalking you for years has decided its about time he shows his face in the form of a picture, and decides its time to talk to you for real, in the form of a phone call. “

I genuinely don’t know how I can simp over this story in a short way but I’ll try my best. The characters are so complex and the storyline is twisted so many ways that make this so interesting to read and easy to become invested in. The way Jk is written, I understand why OC is lost on how to feel for him. Like, his actions are wrong, but actually meeting him and even seeing his though process, it’s hard to make him out to be the villian that his actions have categorized him as. I can’t wait to continue reading and write a full length comment about this!

FEED ME, FIGHT ME.  @yeojaa

“ What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend?  (Aside from trouble, that is.) “

I really enjoyed this, I love how aware of Jk and his boundaries the oc is and how she is cautious to walk the line and not push him too far while also letting him know how his actions make her feel. This just genuinely felt like a glimpse into a very real, very intimate relationship/moment and I loved that. I also just really love how this is written and I think you have a beautiful way with words. 

Chapstick - @softyoongiionly

“based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on. Or Jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. “

Idk if I’ve ever said it before, but I just love how you write relationships. Like, I can feel how comfortable they are with each other and how natural being together is for them. With your stories generally it just never feels forced and I really love that. I also really liked that we got Jk’s pov in the beginning, getting to see how tense he was really made me eager for their interactions and for him to feel comfortable and calm with her. Their interactions just felt so cute and natural and the end, assdjfhi, jk really deserves to be cherished and I loved seeing oc get him to the point of relaxation.

[joonspecs]

the princess, the guard & the voyeur

a ksj and jjk fic.

summary: You are a Princess. He is the nations’ Head of Guard. Both hold very highly estimable positions until they’re abandoned for the sake of love; but mostly for the sake of chasing a high, falsely revered to be the downfall of many – lust.

rating: m (smut)...

length: 2.8k

characters: Reader; Jungkook; Jin

warnings: pw/op... except there’s kind of a plot but not really lol; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap your Willys before you do the sillys friends); cunnilingus; slight voyeurism; slight infidelity; slight possessiveness; JK is kind of dom-ish; dirty talk; both of them are Dom’s; degradation; slight humiliation; and others (I might have missed something’s)

a/n: it takes me a long ass time to muster enough courage to post my works; let alone RP fics... so please bear with me. i was gonna keep this in my word doc for further editing but i was just enabling my anxiety, so here’s hopefully the first of many fics ill be posting. comments make my day, feedback makes me improve but they’re equally appreciated. anyways, hope you enjoy. and stay safe friends x

a/n #2: There was an art/edit a fan made of JK with a metal hand inspired by the Winter Soldier, but I couldn’t find it anymore as it was a direct inspiration for this and I should’ve saved it! But alas! Yep just I guess try to imagine that lmao~

enjoy this very mild sin...

...

Nobody knows.

Nobody knows and you’d be consistently frugal to keep it that way.  It also didn’t help that you were Royalty- a princess, and he is, well, ultimately, he’s supposed to be in his own quarters. But that doesn’t stop you from finding any chance to see nor touch each other.

Round the corridors, in the hallways, on the stairs, in whatever vacant rooms, a simple scan around the premises proving bare of any other participants or onlookers and you’re locking lips and abandoning both your posts of being royalty and him, not.

Though you would both pull away achingly from each other despising the small moment interrupted at the merest indication of a sound or a murmur and discreetly, as if nothing had just happened before, continue their walk. Though there was nothing discreet about the smirks and knowing grins you both held without having to look at each other. Though the thrill of it would eventually catch up to you. This, you were sure, but nonetheless, you still chose to share his bed and he, well, yours. Always and undeniably.

On a cold, frolicsome morning, whilst laying on your side with your back facing him and Jungkook, with the back of his metal hand, tracing down your spine, sending currents of shivers through every follicle and cranny of your soul. You release a long sigh into the dawn, the latter part of your morning routine from your maids dismissed the night before. You wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Kook, you need to get to your chambers,” you mutter, while grinding your round bottom onto his hips and feel a streak of precum lather the crevice of your backside it makes you wonder how long he’d been awake to work himself up to such a charge that you were sure he was already red and leaking. The sensation alone unbridles your distaste for him leaving.

“One more doll,” he says as he wraps his metal hand around your middle and fits his warm, handsome face in between your neck and shoulder, “just in case I don’t see you at all today.”

You hum at the motion and scrunch your nose at the albeit delighting touch of his growing hair tickling your neck. They were always the grandest, softest thing, more than rubies or sheepskin that you’ve ever laid nor your eyes or your hands upon. You succeed in taking note of his grinding motions behind you, his growing hardness yoked between your cheeks while his hot breath at your ear takes hold of every string of your undoing.

“Jungkook,” you moan, the vapor of your sex from your previous coupling still heavy in the room and pressing heavy at your eyelids as your eyes roll in sinister need.

He moves from behind you, pulling your form at your hips to the end of the platformed, king bed, his palms anchored surely till your feet touch the fuzzy feel of the carpets tickling your toes. You feel his warm hands trace the length from your shoulder blades, down the curve of your arched back, over your upturned buttocks before grabbing a fistful of your ass, groaning at the lavish skin that pushed through the spaces between his fingers as he pulls your cheeks apart and an onset of cold air barely touches your dripping cavern, leaving you in shivers of anticipated pleasure, already brewing dangerously close to releasing.

“Let’s mess around just one more time sweetheart,” he whispers, pushing his girth in-between your butt cheeks and he moans at the touch of your softness surrounding his member. You whine as you feel a finger scoop at the pool of wetness from your dripping cunt and hearing a pop behind you. You take that moment to turn your head and find him sucking his forefinger, the other hand rubbing both your sopping slick all over his dick, the motion adding moisture as he continues to press his erect cock between your soft globes, the sight of it alone causing you to moan and drop your head to the mattress.

“Kookie please,” you whine, impatiently prying at loose ends of his teasing and hoping to every deity above he can cease his teasing for just a moment if only to impale your waiting cavern with his well-endowed length.

“Patience bunny,” he teases, this time grabbing a hold of your waist and hoisting you up onto your knees, parting your bent legs.

“You don’t have much time baby,” you plead, taking note of the time on the clock on the far side of your bedroom walls, as impatiently, you wiggle your bottom in the air, trying to stifle a giggle in hopes to tempt him.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he growls, placing both fists on the bed beside your bent legs and licks a stripe of your wetness from your swollen clit to your puckered ring. The mere slide of his tongue on your clit causing you to roll your eyes into your lids as you whine and eagerly swivel your lower back in desperate need of his fucking.

“Kook- “ you groan as he delivers a hard enough smack to your bottom it stops his full nickname being uttered.

“What did I say?” he asks as he tongues at your clenching asshole as his metal hand reaches forward to flick your clit. You fail to give him a reply and only opt to moan into the mattress before he reaches back and spanks your reddening ass again. Turning to look behind you and catching his devilish grin as you whine.

“To trust you.”

He pulls back and sinks a metal finger slowly into your dripping cunt; the coolness a stifling contrast to the heat you feel steeping to drop from the high of feeling your pussy being filled by his finger alone, and this time, he chooses to pop another smack to your other cheek, your noises of pleasure, mumbling the feeling, barely articulate and wholly incoherent as his lone metal finger began stroke within your walls and your moans double in volume before he growls. Something deep and guttural from hearing your cries at the mercy of his finger alone before gritting through his teeth, “Trust me what?”

“To trust you sir!”

“That’s what I wanna hear dollface,” he moans, withdrawing his soaked finger you’re your tightness and moaning at the dropping line of your slick onto the bed.

“Wish you could see how fucking gorgeous you look right now babydoll, here- turn to me and see how hard you’ve made me,” he says as he grips his cock in his metal hand, the coldness making him twitch. You quickly turn to see him stroking his dick, covered in black and gold metal and the sight alone makes your mouth water much more similar to how your dripping wetness as your lips open in abandon, your desire tangible when you bite your lip and peering up to meet his lust-heavy gaze.

You stalk toward him on hands and knees and lean forward to suck at his hanging balls as you hear him release a pleasure-filled grunt. You release and pull back to look up to see his head bent back with sinful moans releasing at his neck as he continues to jerk his dick. You place your mouth lavishly bound to the head of his cock, sucking at the velvety, slick skin there and before you lose any other part of your sanity, the one part of your brain that still soldiers to function tells you that you are running out of time. He has to get to his chambers really soon, but God no, not before he makes you cum one last time. So you release him with a loud ‘pop’ and he follows the sound as he reaches forward with his other hand to caress the sides of your face.

“My love, please hurry,” you plead, turning back around to present your waiting, ever dripping snatch. You feel his metal hand push at the tops of your shoulders, gesturing for you to lay your head down, the sheets, a feathers touch from your tight-budded breasts sending flocks of eye-rolling pleasure as you press flat on the bed. He grabs a handful of your locs, pulling hard enough the gasp that escapes your mouth catches tight at the bottom of your stretched throat. You moan and dare to arch your back any further, you might just break from the lingering release that lurks inches from when he would finally take you.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” he growls by your ear, the warmth of his breath a stark contrast to his speech, and your body shivers with anticipation before he lowly chuckles and says, “I will do with you as I see fit, whore.”

There it is.

The very thing you search for in your suitors and discovering their shortcomings in the one thing you needed most. You crave to be put in your place. You yearn to be manhandled like a needy vixen, like a pathetic slut that if you had it your way, you’d wait hand and foot to be used like the damningly sex deprived whore that you fantastically implore of being.

And he gives you exactly that. Exactly what you need. The very thing that puts you so far from the spectrum of the elegant princess you poise deceivingly to be. No, you were far from that, and he had been the only one to notice it.

You moan strings of ‘yes’s as he fixes the head of his member at your opening and without mercy pummels his hardness into you with a stuttered grunt and begins to slam your buttocks to his middle with a loud smack, roughly pulling your wet cunt over and over and over and over and over and over his girth. Your assassin turned royal guard ever gloriously dominating in his pursuit to find both your release as every stroke of his impressive cock slides past your vagina walls and like a buzz in the pit of your stomach, one sheer thrust touches your sweet spot and oh do you truly scream.

“There! Oh, fuck! Right there please- oh God! Right there,” you groan and growl and grunt and moan and whine and every little sound you make in hopes to urge him further, as you suppress to coax more of him into your pussy with every push of your hips back onto his cock, your orgasm just merely dancing in circles above you.

“Right here baby?” he teases with a grunt, hearing your sweet, wicked noises knowing full well in all his cockiness the sins he can rupture within you. Biting and growling at your neck he whispers, “Right here doll? Look at you, so fucking primal, can’t get enough of this dick can’t you? Pushing back on my cock like the needy whore you are – hnnggh.”

“Mine,” you whine, his sweet, filthy nothings behind you making you roll your eyes as he reaches a hand back and delivers a slap to your ass. Waves of nirvana pour over you at the onslaught of pain-filled pleasure from the reddening touch and every tug at your hair as he pulls and pushes into you, every breath stolen from your lungs, every bruising stroke inside of you, every stinging pleasure brought upon your supple ass, has you reaching heights till you’re sure they’re reaching the very tips of your fingers and your toes.

“My doll, taking me so damn well in that tight pussy-Fuck!” he grunts, his breath racing over the shell of your ear as he slows his pace.

“Yes,” you whimper, every stroke against your greedy walls lewdly singing in sloppy, wet sounds as you bunch up the bed sheets in your hands, a tight coil starting to brew at the bottom of your spine.

“You love sneaking around when nobody knows what we’re really doing, and it excites you doesn’t it?” he whispers, all broken and raspy as he laughs darkly in your ear while pulling out to the head of his cock before slowly delving deep into you till he bottoms out, his heavy balls a breath’s touch from your clit.

You cry out and slam a hand onto the bed, your body quivering with tremor, the bare weight of his shaft fleetingly tangling you into a crashing high as he starts to pump faster but more shallow inside of you, pummelling deep until it ghostly reaches your throat. The sounds of your sex swishing and licking at each other’s skin.

“Jungkook! Please-“

“Yes, my love!”

“Please!” you groan, his thrust begins to dig deeper into your cervix you were sure he was bulging out at your stomach.

His hands are everywhere. Pulling at your hips, your hair, your ass, your thighs, your swaying breasts; tracing every inch of you in compensation for the length of time he has to wait to touch you again. And you always dreaded that part. Above most things, you dreaded that you couldn’t freely walk around with whom you were sure is the love of your life. But for now, you’d settle for stolen moments and hurried kisses if it means you can keep both your dignities. However, at this moment alone, the lewd sounds of your tryst echoing off the walls with your needy pleas and his shallow grunts for release and his grunts for very much the same thing, sneaking around had its utmost peaks; and you were savoring this exact one.

“Jungkook! Fuck! Baby!”

“Cum,” he growls, every vibration against your neck pulsating down your body to your weeping cunt. Release just frighteningly close that you send a small prayer for your lover to finish you right then and right there and God does he know all the right spots.

“Take. Every. Last. Drop!”

You moan abidingly, as your thighs begin to tremble, shaking as spurts of cum fill you slowly yet surely, your own release cathartically reducing you to tears as you clench tighter around his cock, making sure to take his souvenir for keepsakes, keeping your pussy drenched for days. You like to revisit your trysts later when you’re alone in your bed, dipping your fingers into your hole and feeling his load still warm and moist inside you.

~

Jin thought it strange that his wife-to-be wasn’t in her usual recreation chambers as early as she usually liked to be. So initially he thought that maybe she wasn’t feeling well. But then he thought that surely, she would’ve said something. But then again, he wondered if it was more than that, especially since after asking her maids whether this was some new routine she had taken to. They merely shrugged and mentioned her often late arrivals in the past few weeks, and it wasn’t something they usually bothered to think about. But then again there was that sordid idea his betrothed had conjured up, dismissing her guard’s when it was not ideal, especially for the protection of the Princess; and he was itching for a rather scalding conversation with the youngster’s brother very, very soon.

Anyhow, he’d visit his betrothed this morning, only to find that not one of her assigned guards were stationed at the entrance to her chambers. Suspiciously he narrowed his eyes and pushed through the thick doors and to his chief shock and surprise, finds the nation’s only worthy head of guards in her living room, shirtless and albeit, locking lips with the princess’ cunt as he strokes his own shaft.

A sight for sore eyes they were; he only wished they had retrieved him sooner. He has always loved sharing his things.

“Jin!” you squeal, noticing his wide shoulders push through the doors and stood stoic against the gold crested doors.

“Oh don’t mind me darling, the little brother and I like to share.”

He especially loves the look of pure shock on your face, as Jungkook releases your swollen pussy lips with a smack, rising from his bent position. The action blocks your sight of the handsome prince at the door, and with a grin on the guards’ own lips you feel another pair of hands caress the bottom of your feet.

~

fin.

[aethersea]

you know what, I never do these things, but actually I’ve decided I would like to get to know people better! I would like to partake of the mortifying ordeal! I would like to talk about myself for a bit!

ok for the next...let’s say five days I will answer any of these things that people tag me in, or any random personal questions you plop in my ask box. I don’t have an ask meme on hand but just....pick one you’ve seen recently, or make up questions of your own, and I’ll answer. (the answer might be ‘nope that’s private’ but I will answer.) (@ the anon who asked for book recs - I see you, I’ve been thinking of books all day, I’m going to give you SUCH a long answer, I hope you don’t regret your choices bc it WILL be full of gushing)

alright, let’s go!

🌻 Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

Tagged by @booksandchainmail​

Last Song: I’m currently listening to “Falcon in the Dive” from the Scarlet Pimpernel musical on loop. I watched one or two Scarlet Pimpernel movies when I was just barely too young to fully get what was going on, and the story’s held an odd but deep-seated place in my heart ever since. A few years ago I found out there’s a musical and most of the songs are pretty stellar (go listen to “Madame Guillotine” if you like big ensemble broadway numbers, it’s a banger, the bit where he cries out for God has been running through my mind on and off for a few days now haha not like that’s topical or anything), so every once in a while I spend a few days listening to them a lot.

Sometime last year I read the actual book, and got super into the whole concept of the Scarlet Pimpernel for a while. I plotted out Pimpernel aus for several fandoms, I read the entire wikipedia article, and I went looking for bootlegs of the musical. I didn’t find one, but I did find a full radioplay-style recording of the script, complete with full musical numbers, and listened to it like a podcast.

Reader, I was so disappointed. The play adds some scenes, bc a lot of the dramatic tension of the novel comes from internal conflict and that doesn’t stage super well, and the very first scene of this play – a play written in the NINETIES – features our dashing hero rescuing some aristocrats from a French prison, and then saying to the person in the next cell, who begs for rescue but is not an aristocrat, “We have enough of your kind in England.”

Enough! of your KIND! What in the merry frickety HECK my dudes!! The book has some rather unfortunate™ takes but it is from 1905, it’s regrettable but sadly to be expected. This play is from 1997. It has NO excuse. This scene wasn’t even in the book! What! the heck!

I was so disheartened that I lost my excitement for the play, and a couple songs later I stopped listening. It occurred to me just a few days ago that you could actually stage that ironically, with the person in the cell giving the audience a “can you believe this” look, and then the rest of the play could feature assorted non-aristocratic ensemble members constantly looking at the audience like they’re on The Office. And hey, maybe that’s what they did, or something similar – maybe that was never meant to be taken as a cleanly heroic stance, and the play deals with it in a complex way. It’s possible. I wouldn’t know. Kinda doubt it though, based on song lyrics.

Favorite Color: red, probably

Last Movie: I watched that new lesbian christmas movie with my family for christmas, the one with kirsten stewart and the guy from schitt’s creek. it’s very sweet and good and kinda sad, and I really enjoyed it. it also incidentally has the best gay best friend trope in probably anything ever, bc it’s not a trope (I didn’t realize until several hours after watching that it technically fits), it’s just a guy who is the protagonist’s best friend, and they’re just all gay, and then when he Gives Relationship Advice as a gay best friend always does, it’s advice about how to deal with your partner’s hangups around coming out.

actually every part of the gay best friend trope becomes better when they’re just best friends who are both gay. the big dramatic gestures (in this case, driving some ungodly distance in the snow on no notice) go from “haha how kooky” to “queer man will do anything he needs to to rescue his queer friend from an isolating & potentially triggering situation”. the relationship advice isn’t “honey you deserve some self-respect, treat yourself”, it’s a deeply sincere reminder of the vulnerability that is shared across almost everyone’s queer experience, and look I could ramble about this for a long time before reaching a coherent point but I’m INTO IT, okay? I’m into it.

Last Show: you want me to remember what show I last finished???? impossible, cannot be done, it was a long time ago and the adhd has eaten everything that happened before last week. here, instead I’ll tell you about another movie I watched, late at night with my mom in cozy companionship just a couple days ago. it’s called Quigley Down Under and it’s about a cowboy who goes to Australia and kills a bunch of racists, 10/10 would watch again. it’s from 1990 but it feels much older, with the music choices and the cinematography of a 70s Western. the cowboy is great, honorable and fearless and kind, but the breakaway star of this movie for me is the woman who attaches herself to his side and refuses to leave. her name is Cora, and she’s crazy, in the sense that she’s not altogether tethered to reality, but this never for a second diminishes her agency. she’s fierce and clever and compassionate, and she basically never does anything she doesn’t want to in the whole movie. her arc is about overcoming trauma by taking charge of her own fear and facing it head-on, she is never belittled or dismissed by the narrative or the protagonist, and look she’s just so cool. I love her. she’s so vibrantly alive. her story could probably have been handled with a bit more nuance, but honestly for the 90s it’s pretty great. I’m no expert, but I found nothing objectionable in it, just a bit of heavy-handedness.

anyway the theme of the movie is that racism is evil and racists deserve to be shot, and this too could have been handled better (not a single aboriginal character speaks a single line of english in this movie), but it follows through on that message in every way, while still being a fun kinda campy cowboy movie. overall a very good time.

Currently Watching: started showing my sister Hilda the other day, and she’s liking it! I love that show, it’s so incredibly cute. can’t wait to see season 2

Currently Reading: lmao I wish. lately the brain has firmly rejected all attempts to read anything of any length. currently pending, bc I was halfway through them when my brain stalled out, are tano’s fic What Does Kill You Can Make You Stronger, Too, a Toby Daye book - I think it was The Brightest Fell, I got like half a chapter in and haven’t picked it up in over a month, the Locked Tomb series, and probably a few other things too. ooh! also a book called Making Sex by thomas laqueur, which is my fancy academic reading that I’ve been doing in short bursts for the past year or two when I feel fancy and academic. it’s about the development of the concept of biological sex and of gender in Western society, and it’s fascinating. has among other things introduced me to the idea that until quite recently, fathers were a matter of faith. the mother? yeah, you can watch the baby pop out, we all know who the mother is. but the father? how can you know? how can you really know? we have paternity tests these days, but for all of human history up until now, we've just had to take fatherhood on faith. (not to mention we didn’t even know what fathers were contributing to the production of a fetus. clearly it was something, since you can’t get pregnant without a penis getting involved, but we have literally not known what until the past few decades. and that is wild. it has colored ALL of human history, all of our conceptions of society and family and kinship and gender, all of it, and it hadn’t even occurred to me until it was spelled out for me in this book, and it’s just......wow.

Salty, sweet or savory: for christmas my sister and I made seven different types of cookie, most of them involving chocolate somehow.

Craving: no bc I ate so many cookies. unless sleep counts. or maybe pringles, it’s been many moons since last I had a potato chip and I miss them.

Coffee or Tea: no thank you

Tagging: @coloursisee, @krchy-tuna, @sam-j-squirrel, @xzienne, @mirandatam, @viciousmaukeries, @sepulchritude, @elidyce, and @navigatorsnorth bc it’s been a while since we’ve talked, and I’m super hyped that you’re married now. v happy for you!

[thatfeanorian]

I was tagged to do this writer game by @arofili! thank you!!

how many works do you have on AO3?

33 (counting my two unrevealed TSRBs)!

what’s your total AO3 word count?

177758 (wow somehow thats only a third of what I’ve written)

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

I’ve written for.... literally one fandom published and 5 unpublished. We’ll stick with published since I don’t want to expose myself lmao: Just Silmarillion because I’m a high key nerd. That and the whole fandom and work facinates me to the extreme because it is so open ended and nearly any interpritation of the text can be canon!

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All The Ways To Love - 198 (a longfic about Maedhros and Fingon in an arranged marriage finding exactly what they need in each other, side appearances by baby feanorians)

Make You Mine (the way you should be) - 99 (a short Kidnap Family fic featuring prophetic dreams E&E who have known Maedhros and Maglor would always be coming for them and loved them for it)

Fëanor Finds Out Sort Of But Not Really - 78 (another Russingon fic about Maedhros and Fingon’s secret relationship being found out at the consequences that go along with that)

From The Ashes, Rising - 69 (a 13k four chapter fic-- medium length?-- about Maedhros and Fingon growing up and falling in love, a Modern AU.)

the difference between you and I - 69 (a kidnap dads fic about E&E’s first night with Maedhros and Maglor and how they began to understand that their first impressions might not have been right.)

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Always. Comments are one of the best things I, as an author, can receive and I adore each and every person who takes time to put their thoughts and appreciation into words. Thank you so much to all of you who have done that for me!!

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hooooo boy that’s a hard one. So many of mine have angsty endings on purpose because pain is always fun. Still if I had to pick one, I would choose Learn Your Place, another fic in my Modern AU “To Build the Bonds That Tie,” featuring middle school age Maedhros questioning his sexuality and being told that he doesn’t belong.

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Very rarely, and I almost never publish them. The only one I have published as of right now is very old and embarrassing so I won’t link it but it was about Finrod, Turgon, and a self-insert OC being tossed into The Hobbit to try to retrieve the silmaril-arkenstone.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes I actually got my first bit very recently and I laughed so hard I almost threw up. I just don’t understand why people keep reading my fics if they know from the first few sentences they don’t like them. I’ve read my fair share of fics that weren’t my style and somehow I’ve never left a single piece of hate on any of them.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Absolutely. I write everything from very kinky sex to soft aftercare and all the variations in between. The one thing I absolutely refuse to do is non-con although I am okay with sex used as a method of torture. I love love love writing LGBTQ+ themes and do my best to incorporate as much diversity as I can into all my pieces NSFW and otherwise just because they’re not realistic if I don’t.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

have you ever had a fic translated?

 I’ve gotten one request but the person who asked dropped it and never got back to me :(

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! A few of my fics are based off of an old RP server I was in with a couple friends and so as such the ideas are theirs as well as mine and I at least consider the fics co-written.

what’s your all time favorite ship?

.....if you can’t guess.... go take a look at my AO3 (I’ll give you a hint 90% of my fics contain this ship)

(it’s russingon)

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

My (first) Modern AU. I have it two thirds finished and only a third published but the entire idea is so enormous that I don’t think I will possibly be able to finish it. I adore my baby and I’ll do my best but I think I made the right decision splitting it into seperate fics so that we all can enjoy the parts I do get out instead of waiting ages for things to go in chronological order.

what are your writing strengths?

I adore writing emotion and description! I feel most comfortable writing long winding explanations of the scenery and people that put you (as people have told me) right in the scene.

what are your writing weaknesses?

oh my god smooth dialogue. I struggle so much it’s painful. That’s the part of any fic that takes me the longest because I sit there saying each part out loud to myself like it’s a play and trying to decide if it’s at all reasonable.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Yes! Absolutely. I love including in-verse languages in my writing in both names, pet names, and even small sentances, but it really really bothers me when people will go on a winding speech or a chunk of dialogue in another language and then have to translate the whole thing at the bottom. Another huge pet peeve of mine is when people use words in other languages and then *don’t* translate them at the bottom. I can’t at all get the full vibe of the fic if there’s words I don’t understand!

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhh.... I wrote a self insert fic when I was 10 about this one elf statue at the Santa’s Village Amusement Park in NH (please don’t ask)

but if that doesn’t count --please tell me it doesn’t-- then PJO and I still write the occasional fic for them now because PJO is just iconic.

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Omg that’s a hard one. I really struggled picking just one because there’s so many that I’m proud of but if I had to pick a genuine favorite I’d say... Inure, a fic I wrote a couple months ago detailing one of the darkest experiences of my life from Maedhros’s perspective. It was both incredibly hard to write and extremely cathartic for me and will remain one of the most terrifying things that I have ever had the courage to publish.

Mind the tags though, it is quite dark and can be triggering if you’ve had an experience similar to mine!

I’ll tag.... @findrahil, @sianascera, @admirablemonster and @secretlythranduil if any of y’all feel up to it!