#i needed someone to spark conflict

[morganmnemonic]

I can't stop thinking about the relationship between Jon and Helen as perhaps one of the most important ones in the entire show. They are narrative parallels for each other, and they both know it. They've both known it from the very start!

Helen walks into the Archives, paranoid, unsure of who to trust, and Jon sees himself in her. And he thinks "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." Then he can't save her. The next time they meet, she's a monster. They're both monsters. There was never any other way their stories could have gone, their fates entwined from the very start.

And Helen answers his original thought with one of her own: "Maybe if we can help each other, there's hope for us both." But Jon looks at her and sees everything that he fears becoming, and so he turns her away, and refuses to accept that their stories are still one and the same.

Helen went to the last person who was ever kind to her, the only person who both knew her as a human and had the context to understand what she'd become, and he hated her. He hated her because he liked Helen, and told her that she couldn't be Helen.

So she stopped trying to be Helen, and embraced being a monster. Reveled in it even. Then Jon wakes up from a six month coma, more monster than person, and tries so hard to cling to the things that mattered to him when he was human. Even with no support, even with the entire archives staff against him, he chooses humanity and compassion over and over again.

And this is a direct threat to Helen's world view. Their stories are entwined. If Jon can continue to be a person even after everything he's been through, then she could have clung to her humanity too, if only she'd tried a little harder. And that terrifies her! She wants to conceptualize herself as someone who was completely overwhelmed by forces beyond her control, who never had a choice but to become a monster. She want's to be an innocent victim. But Jon argues with his actions that they'd both had choices.

And, Jon, in turn, holds out hope that she might make better choices until the very end.

This is the conflict between them for all of season 4 and 5. Jon wants to prove that they can both be decent people, and Helen wants to prove that they were never going to be anything but monsters. This is why she's so devoted to trying to goad Jon into enjoying his newfound godhood. She knows that they are the same, and wants that to mean that he has a spark of evil inside of him, and not that she was always capable of doing good.

When Jon kills her, she loses her life, but wins the argument. Helen is nothing but a dangerous monster who needs to be killed for the good of everyone, and in the moment he decides that, Jon dooms himself to the same fate. Their stories are one and the same. "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." he thought. But he couldn't help her, refused to, even, in the one moment when it actually mattered. And thus, there was never hope for him.

[erosastro]

Pick a pile three times and let’s get a peak into your future

Home/Family Life (Pile one: Tigers Eye, Pile Two: Amethyst and Pile Three: Black Tourmaline)

Pile one: Tigers Eye

At the moment, your home and family life might feel a little chaotic. Maybe like you’re pulled in every direction and don’t know how to ground yourself. You may be feeling a lot of internal conflict regarding something; you’re questioning things and dynamics, I’m hearing. There might be secrets or manipulation that you’re trying to work through. This will turn around, the key is finding your inner strength, it’s looking beyond the veil and staying true to yourself. I keep hearing self love. There’s going to be a very powerful and much needed time of introspection in order for you to stay grounded and learn to trust your intuition because you’re going to come out of this as the queen of cups. Don’t be afraid to dig a little deeper to find things within yourself that maybe you’re too scared to face at the moment or are working up the courage to. Leo energy is very strong. It’s all about your confidence and believing in yourself, pile one.

Pile two: Amethyst

I keep hearing closure? And I’m hearing someone saying that they’re sorry. This could be you or someone else saying this. Pile two, you need to put the love you give to others into yourself as well. Learn to trust your inner guidance. I’m seeing here that maybe wounds from when you were younger, perhaps from a father/masculine figure has hindered your confidence and the way you see the world. Something recently may not have worked out the way you wanted it to and that might be what the closure is regarding. But trust in the process of what’s unfolding for you, trust your ideas and look at the bigger picture. There’s lots of Gemini energy as well which is related to the third house so there might also be some siblings wounds that need tending to. For some of you, someone close to you may have moved away and now that’s leaving you very lost. But trust me there are answers in what you don’t see right now. They’re coming and that give and take it about to become equal. You just need to try and see the bigger picture. Sometimes rejection is redirection.

Pile Three: Black Tourmaline

Pile your energy is infectious. I think you’re definitely shining brightly right now. You may have come out of a very mentally exhausting cycle and have finally learnt how to put yourself first, to nurture and take care of yourself and oof baby that confidence is growing. I think you’re also splurging on nice things perhaps a bit too much but honestly you deserve it. Your current energies are great and being carried over into future energies is what I’m seeing. You’re learning how to balance your home and work life and resting when you need to (if this is something you’re still learning I see you nailing it in the near future). You’re learning how to believe in yourself and the universe and embracing all that comes with it. This is a very abundant time for yourself. If any of you are trying to get pregnant, I see that this might be happening soon as well (only take it if it resonates please!) continue on this trajectory because you’re unlocking such wonderful parts of yourself that you can share with your family/within your home. I also heard someone say that they’re really proud of you.

Your career (Pile one: Selenite, Pile two: Agate, Pile three: Celestite)

Pile one: Selenite

I’m hearing that you do not need to do everything on your own lol. I also see some massive burnout right now. You might have lost your spark or inspiration to what you’re doing but I hear that it’s not exactly feeding your soul. Perhaps the work itself or people feel like this. But you’re definitely working on it or will be in the near future. I think you’re trying to find your purpose here and it’s related to something you already know you love. It might not be conventional or it might feel out of reach but the first step is accepting or seeking help from others. Everything you’ve worked for will pay off. You are more than good enough to reach your goals; you just have to try to stop micromanaging. There’s strong Capricorn energy in this pile.

Time frame: five months/28 weeks stick out to me

Pile Two: Agate

You might currently be trying to make something work that doesn’t. I’m hearing that it might be because it’s financially secure and has good pay. But deep down you’re stressed tf out lol. You’re worried about the future and I’m hearing for some of you your family legacy? I feel like you tell yourself it’s just your bad luck and talk yourself down. This might be from habits in your past when you were younger but it’s time to let go of things that aren’t serving you. You seem like creative souls and your soul yearns to do something more. I hear more than just a soul sucking 9-5. It might be too risky but I think you’re going to realise that it might be worth the risk and once you do, a brand new start/beginning is coming for you. The wheel will turn in your favour. Nothing in your life is set in stone. You have the power to change it if you’re brave enough. This creative endeavour may be something to do with your voice/music or fashion for some of you. Please remember you’re more powerful than you think. Once you grasp that, you can change your entire world.

Time frame: 10 months and for some I hear six/nine months/ weeks.

Pile Three: Celestite

Lovely energies right off the bat. You know what you want pile three and you’re determined to get it. Some of you may be trying to move to another city/country for a job or have already done so. The only thing I see here is that you’re questioning yourself and your abilities? You might be listening to a lot of other people’s opinions but honestly, spirit is saying that as long as you’re happy, they don’t need to matter, to get out of your head. For some of you I see that you might be coming out of a cycle and are trying to get onto a path that’s true to who you are. There might have been some questioning your self-identity and this might have been from other people but whatever it is that you see for yourself, you have the power to get it. You just have to get rid of those self-limiting beliefs that are keeping you up at knight. Spirit is also saying that your journey is important so be patient and gentle with yourself. A lot of you might be empaths, so be careful you don’t absorb everyone else’s energy. Also that if things don’t work out exactly how it’s planned, you’re fine to try a different route, it doesn’t have to be only one way.

Time frame: Gemini season might be significant but otherwise this one isn’t giving me a specific time frame.

Your love life (Pile One: rose quartz, Pile Two: Spirit Quartz, Pile Three: Pyrite)

Pile one: Rose quartz

You might be heavy into manifesting a specific person or have an idea of a person that you’re set on manifesting. Spirit is saying that you’re very sure of yourself and your abilities at the moment but you may need to take a step back to evaluate what it is you really want. Not everything might be realistic/practical right now. You may have a group of people that might put you through the wringer before meeting the one you spend your life with. I see you might have to release some toxic exes/cycles as well but the wheel will turn in your favour. When you meet this person, they may be shy so you may have to end up making the first move. I also see that you may be coming out of a really bad relationship when you meet this person.

Significant times/signs: Pisces is heavy, then Virgo and Gemini and Capricorn

Pile two: Spirit quartz

Pile two your energy!! I think you may have already met someone you will spend the rest of your life with or are already in a deep commitment with. If you haven’t, I see this coming in hot before you know it. You’re connected deeply with spirit/God/the universe and I think you’re already in a great place of appreciation. Because of your faith, the love you’re manifesting will come in and it’ll be everything you’ve ever wanted. This person is someone you can be weird around, is what I’m hearing. It might feel like you or them are under a spell whenever you’re with them lol. Deep love and possible soulmate connection.

Significant time/seasons: heavy Libra, Virgo, Gemini

Pile Three: Pyrite

Pile three you are more powerful than you know and your voice deserves to be heard. I think you might be going through some tough times at the moment. Perhaps something major in your life has ended and you’re not sure what to do or for some, you’re stuck in an unhealthy relationship and don’t know how to get out. The message is to let God/the Universe/Spirit in. You are being led in the right direction. Find it within yourself to do what your heart is telling to you do in tandem with your mind. Let go because you need to. Once you do, and you finally move forward, you’ll find your divine counter part. But this is only when you take control and let go of what you need to, even if this is past beliefs. This will be a very stable and healthy relationship and it might actually be in a whole different country or city. Maybe on a cruise for some. Or you bond over something regarding the ocean. Please stay strong though, pile three. You are worthy of real love.

Significant times/seasons: strangely enough I don’t see any period sticking out. But strong earth energy in general so that may be significant

[vantaeries]

HOW'S THEIR FIRST KISS WITH YOU

PAC : FUTURE SPOUSE SERIES

Your lips come and take me to the place to go - NCT 127

Pile : 1 ~ 2 ~ 3

How to pick : Close your eyes, take a deep breath and clear your mind. Trust your intuition and choose a pile that you are most drawn to.

Disclaimer : This is a general reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Remember, the energies can change from time to time. So pick wisely.

Masterlist

PILE 1

Your future spouse is a reserved and low-confidence person who might struggle or fear to confess their feelings. When they see you talking and joking with another person, they feel extremely jealous. They fear they may have missed their chance with you and are tormented by the thought that you might like someone else. Unable to contain their emotions any longer, they make a bold and uncharacteristic decision. As they approach, their legs feel like jelly and their heart pounds like crazy. Acting on impulse, they pull you into a passionate kiss. The passion from truth. In that moment, time seems to stand still. The world fades away, leaving only the sensation of your lips against theirs. The kiss is filled with all the longing and fear they have kept hidden for so long. The kiss is so raw, intense and might turn into a lustful kiss. They definitely dominate the kisses so you can feel how rough and desperate they are. It's as if they are trying to say, “I was scared. Scared that you might like someone else.” How do you react to their kiss? You feel shocked but you respond to their kiss. Do you know how they feel? Oh, they feel a surge of joy and relief. They get carried away by their animalistic desire lol. I think there will be a celebration after that. I'm feel they might kiss you in front of that person or audience lol. People who had been observing the scene erupt into cheers and applause, celebrating the spontaneous and heartfelt moment. So, they actually feel relieved and can rest well after confirming their feelings.

Keyword : Jealous, Insecure, Fire sign, Capricorn sun, Libra, Scorpio, Aries Venus, Children, Party or Gathering, Music, 444

PILE 2

After a heart-wrenching breakup, they were in the midst of healing their broken heart when they met you. Something stirred within them at that first encounter, an awakening sparked by your presence. It wasn't just attraction; it was a deep, magnetic pull that they couldn’t ignore. The first kiss came about unexpectedly, rooted in a misunderstanding that led to a heated argument. Their eyes couldn’t help but fixate on your lips, watching them move with each word. The sight was tantalizing and seductive, causing them to lose focus in the middle of the argument. Without warning, the argument escalated into something entirely different. They closed the distance between you, and before you could react, they pulled you into a kiss, as if their actions were saying, "Shut your mouth, or I'm gonna kiss you." You were taken aback by the suddenness of it, but your body began to respond to their kiss instinctively. It was your first kiss, and though it was slow, it was deeply satisfying. Your hands found their way to their neck or waist, and they hugged you tightly, savoring the connection. They loved touching your body and were thrilled by the way you responded to their kiss. When the kiss finally broke, both of you were left nearly breathless, cheeks flushed red from the intensity of the moment. So cute sksksks

Keyword : Conflict, 'You are that', Summer, Manifest, Scorpio Mars, Saturnian ( Capricorn & Aquarius), Comfort, Surprise, 555

PILE 3

This experience is different from the previous two because there is no rush or urgency. It's as if your future spouse is saying, "When you're ready, we will do this together." They are willing to give you the time you need, despite the strong attraction and sexual tension between you. Once you're ready, they will kiss you with voluptuous excitement. It's a fun kiss, filled with giggles and smooching. For some of you, the kiss might lead to lovemaking because "just kissing" wouldn't be enough. It's all about passion. The kiss is so addictive and raw, taking both of your breaths away. It's hot and good, awakening the lustful desire between you two. As if they are saying, "Yes, finally, I've been waiting long enough to do this. Everything will be made right." They don't want to confuse or pressure you, so they will take it one step at a time. They want you to feel comfortable and peaceful as you explore this connection together.

Keyword : couple in ecstasy, animal within us, passion, 222, Virgo, Sagittarius, Jupiter, Venus, Moon

[nyxanarchy]

SOTR SPOILERS

anyway. Back to my obsession.

-Thinking about Tam Amber and Carmine Clerk "not again". All the covey singers are dead (THEIR SONGBIRDS). Maude Ivory, Lucy Gray, Lenore Dove. All of them are dead, and the coveys don't sing anymore. That is why Katniss knows only two of their song. The only survivors are musicians (and probably just the men. I feel like this has to mean something, but maybe I'm just crazy.)

-Thinking about Clerk Carmine, that we know is the fiddler in the Odair's wedding, playing alone. (thinking also about Haymitch seeing him play. Did he talk to him? Did they ever talk about Lenore Dove? Did Carmine Clerk forgive him? Maybe he never blamed him at all.)

-I wonder if at the end of the war Carmine Clerk was able to talk with others coveys, maybe from other districts (because they were travelers, maybe they were separated before the war)

-Barb Azure. We don't know anything about her. She vanished from the narrative. Is she Burdock's mother? That would explain his connection to Lenore Dove and why Burdock knows the covey's song (ofc he could also have learned it from Lenore Dove, even tho I would argue it's weird that Katniss seems to have Maude Ivory's exact skill for remembering music). But what happened to her? She is not dead, because if she was, she would have been probably buried next to the other girls. (MY SHAYLAS) [Also I feel like it's significant that the singers are the first to die.] If she is Burdock's mother I wonder what happened to the girl she was seeing. Was she forced to marry, to keep her secret? Or maybe she was bi and she fell in love with a man? But then why doesn't Burdock have a covey name? (even tho it's not lost on me the fact that Everdeen is really similar to Evergreen) Maybe because she thought it was starting to be dangerous? I also read a theory that Burdock is the niece of her girlfriend. That would make her his aunt, and would explain why he hasn't a covey name. I need more lore, I'm going insane.

-Snow is definitely the culprit of their music getting banned. He really wanted to destroy them, all because of Lucy Gray. She really did a number on him, he is still obsessed after all this time. Pathetic little man.

-Also can we talk about the fact that in 40 years he was able to make Panem homophobic again?

-Beete wife and second son?? They are dead right? I don't remember them, I will reread the series soon, but I feel like I would remember if they were alive. So Snow kept his wife and his second son alive, to keep him doing what he wanted, just to kill them after some time?

-Wyatt makes my heart bleed. I love him so much, every time he talks I feel like I'm gonna cry. Imagine knowing your father will accept bets on you. Also during the reaping some of his family said something along the lines of "you brought him bad luck" (I read it in Italian so I don't know the exact sentence) Does that mean someone already bet he was going to be reaped? That honestly kills me.

-I also kinda like WyattxMaysilee. I feel like I'm alone in this. But also I think she could also be a lipstick lesbian. I'm conflicted. This is not really important, just some thoughts.

-Thinking about all the tries it must have taken the rebels to finally win. How many mockinjays died in their arenas, because it was just not the right time? They tried, but they couldn't. And no one knows what happened. I hope that in the future schools of Panem they will talk about all of them.

-The boy who created sparks waiting for the girl on fire. Inconsolable.

-Please Suzanne give us Annie's game because after this book I believe wholeheartedly that she tried to destroy her arena and went mad because they tortured her.

-Haymitch having to hit Asterid with a stone. UGH. This book makes me sick to my stomach to a concerning degree.

-Also haymitch being closed in a bird cage?????? This will haunt me.

-Merrilee. In the original series she is always in bed. She has the drugs to sleep. I feel like her illness is just depression. I always thought about it but I think this is confirmation.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:

"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."

"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."

"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"

[source thread]

User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]

User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]

David Gaider: "Just to clarify the "they're probably why you'll never see Fenris" thing, as it's spawned commentary: 1. It's the reasoning as was explained to me back then. 2. Obviously, if Bio *really* wanted to, they'd find a way around it. But it was a complication that meant he couldn't be included casually." [source]

[amongus543]

LOVE IS A GENTLE THING . ۫ ꣑ৎ . things they love about you.

(˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) warnings. fluff、angst、hurt/comfort、gn!reader、overthinking、insecurities、suggestive if you squint on wukongs、mild ooc!wukong、ao lie is a bit short、established relationship、fell-hard boys ໒ ᩧ꒱characters. macaque, aolie, nezha, wukong. 1.2k wc

MACAQUE loves your loyalty.

now, Macaque genuinely loves every quality of you. There is no words nor anything to express how eternally grateful he is for you, how you gave him a try, giving the spark in his eyes back. Without a doubt his feelings run deep.

to be precise, if he has to be specific about one; LOYALTY is the first things on his mind.

Because of his rough history and past, Macaque has developed many barriers mentally. He faced a betrayal from a certain someone that still left a scar on him, It would be an understatement to say he does have trust issues and even to say he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, having something so… vulnerable, with someone.

That was before he met you, at least. he had years to build those walls up only for you to bypass them, and he allows it. he allows it.

He enjoyed it even, he felt so free and feather-light, the overthinking and doubtful thoughts all vanished. Because he trusts you. The unwavering loyalty you are giving him brings him a tingly feeling in his stomach, adoration.

The disloyalty and betrayals from the past left his heart in a racing conflict. Your determination of your character to assure him that you’ll never leave or choose anyone over him, and it never faltering brings him to believe he thinks he’s dreaming. That you’re dreamy.

at first, it took awhile to have him open to you, if he catches himself doing it, he honestly feels so heavy in his chest he would probably do anything to just get away from you before he thinks he’ll get more hurt than he already is. he has a feeling to just, cry. he’s just so tired.

It’s not often he would usually admit this, or ever, but there’s a glint in his eyes (if you look close enough) and blush clustered on his cheeks when you voice being faithful with him; even in small moments.

you being communicative is a plus too, he really needs communication, even if he’s shit at it himself. The relationship would really cease if you both are bad at communicating so.

by thus, you’re a really significant person in his life. he wouldn’t dare have anyone or anything take you away from him, and you reciprocated this too.

AO LIE loves your patience and energy

Ao lie is overly clumsy with things, so if your PATIENT with him, he’s relieved honestly.

not canon but i imagine him having somewhat of a harsh and bitter past so he gets pressured a lot. so, you being patient with him gets a weight lift off his chest basically.

also you being ENERGETIC kinda gives him a boost and like encouragement, you know? and then gets all motivated with you which you think is cute

also you both are literally that one meme “HE SAID NO PICKLES!” and he’s all like melting himself on the chair beside you looking down in humiliation

he gets flustered easily when around you, because he gets scared that he’s gonna embarrass himself in front of you ( Despite him already doing that in multiple occasions. ) and you really don’t care if he falls over in front of you or maybe you laugh at him idk

NEZHA loves your kindness

either you’re kind to him or others, even in small or major situations; he admires it, he admires you. something simple as that can make him have that fuzzy feeling. the way you gently tend his wounds while sweetly saying praises for his work and efforts or softly scolding him for being more careless of his safety, putting his duty above his safety.

it’s honestly the simple thing such as KINDNESS can bring nezha to be lovesick. actions or words he’s astonished how genuinely kind someone can be.

whether you can fight for yourself or not, he has a strong vow to protect you. he knows how cruel the world and how twisted people can really be, he has a fear that they’ll target you somehow.

he developed a protective nature, he’s not possessive per say, he just wants you protected. not extremely protective either, he knows limits and when to step in.

though if you can fight for yourself, surely, he lets his guard down only a little. he doesn’t want you to think he doesn’t think you can defend yourself or you’re weak.

is a little unsettled if you’re friends with wukong, it’s obvious he isn’t sure what to feel about the guy. wukong betrayed nezha before, and is cautious if he’ll do the same to you. if you’d reassure him; he’ll feel better and mentally slaps himself.

(wukong defiantly noticed and mocks nezha about this)

but he truly treasures you and your kind soul, seeing how strong-hearted you are made him impossibly more in-love with you. the little gestures you do on autopilot that others wouldn’t consider doing, or the kind words you speak thats soft-spoken and feel like they run deeper than anything.

WUKONG loves your matching energy and empathy

theres obviously a majority of people who get annoyed and agitated at wukong, he’s slightly off-put when you MATCH HIS ENERGY or surprised even, but that goes a second it comes.

before you two were even together, he may not act or look like it but he still has his guard high, despite for his attitude he keeps a lot of people at arm length. wukong seeing you match his energy and even having that same mischief in your eyes too get you both along well.

most weren’t even surprised at the outcome with your relationship, at-most it’s certainly expected to happen. maybe some even thought you were together before. even so, you two were like two peas in a pod, a match made in heaven.

you two were certainly a power couple, much to some people’s dismay and unimpressed-ness. you both were practically inseparable.

I expect you to be strong in some way, if you are, wukong lives for seeing you fight; it makes him feel a type of way, you can decipher what that would mean.

he feels blessed honestly, there’s a small chance of you not catching up with him in a relationship or getting tired or bored of him, which he’s secretly insecure of and wouldn’t admit it, soberly.

if your attentive, you catch on sooner or later about this and he hates it. wukong usually runs away from his problems than face them and if he crumbles too much in front of you, he feels like he’ll make a rash decision and he’ll make you leave like others have also.

there’s only so little people that can make out wukong and that side of him, you can may or may not EMPATHIZE with him. assuring him, that you will not leave him and no matter how tempting to leave or difficult he gets, that promise will always linger within you both.

wukong makes many mistakes, but he sure as hell wouldn’t make one that would loose you, maybe you’ve seen too much of him, but you have empathy. empathy for wukong is something he never really felt before, being understood despite his history and action, how easily you decipher because you emphasize with him. it warms him like no other fire that would keep him warm, how how he cherishes the feeling. how his heavy heart always having conflicts finally feel calm, calm even for a moment of being understood.

[muletia]

✧˖° 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

inspired by 'if not for you' by george harrison

[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader

summary: after winning the war, optimus found his safe haven. with you.

cw: fluff, pinch of angst, obsessive thoughts, i may have romanticized his obsession a bit... self-indulgence, canon divergence - optimus gets his happy ending :))

word count: 1200

this fic can be treated as the yang to my previous piece about his dream and as the good ending to the whole obsessed!optimus arc

Once, a fire burned within his body. It consumed every conduit, reached every metallic tissue. The blaze wrought devastation, destroying and leaving behind necrosis until it consumed him entirely, mercilessly incinerating the remnants of optimism, the hope that he might live to see a better tomorrow.

Optimus burned out; the flame hollowed him from within and left behind only a shell. Deep within his spark, however, an ember still flickered — a reminder that he could not surrender, that he must endure to the end and serve his own, for that was the role he had chosen those ages ago. He could not capitulate. He would not.

And then, you appeared. A tiny spark that reignited the fire.

This one was fiercer and more painful, but within it lay the beauty of caring for someone, loving their flaws and imperfections, lending strength when it was most needed. You gave him enough of it to end the conflict once and for all. Optimus had long lost hope for a better tomorrow for himself. But for yours, he was willing to do absolutely anything. To ensure your well-being, reshape the future so you would no longer have to live in fear for your home. He did not factor himself into it; knew the sacrifice required to bring an end to a war that had escalated to an interplanetary scale. He could only dream, nourishing his imagination with visions he would never behold.

At least, that was what he once believed.

The wind gently brushes against his armor, and the spring sun envelops him with warmth. Far from civilization, no sounds of haste or petty conflicts reach him. It is only him and your garden, the flora that continously surprises him with something new. Colors, shapes of flowers, bloom schedules. Simple organisms, mundane and primitive, yet he saw beauty in them. Their simplicity fascinated him, as it was the complete opposite of Cybertron and its inhabitants.

But what captivated him most was their will to live, their resilience, the extent of suffering they could endure before yielding, before giving up. He drew inspiration from them, saw himself in them, for he, too, wished to live.

Now, yes. For you.

He knows you will return soon; your weekly schedule is deeply etched into his processor. But until then, he does not know what to do with himself. He always spends his time waiting for you, for the moment your vehicle rolls into the garage, for it is only then that he begins to truly live. In your company, surrounded by conversation, your kindness, and an affection impossible to replicate.

Everything he does in your absence is merely to kill time, to hasten your return, to occupy his processor and stave off madness without you. Sometimes, he manages, especially when a former teammate visits. But there are days when all he can do is meditate beneath the tree closest to the driveway, waiting for you. Thinking about what you will do together when you return, what news from work you will share with him, and how he might bring you joy today.

Without you, he is lost. The self-sufficiency built over so many years suddenly crumbles, revealing an uncertain, astray being entirely dependent on his conjunx.

Today is no exception to the routine. No one has visited. Optimus remains alone with his thoughts, which, for several years now, have been recalibrated to revolve solely around you. Once, they fed the fire he had to vigilantly tend, for he easily lost control over it, and it burned him alive. Now, it envelops him in a pleasant warmth, more soothing than the sun’s radiance. More comforting and tender. It brings him solace and peace, though it still fuels an unhealthy devotion. No longer destructive, but still imbued with a fiery passion, more powerful than Primus himself.

Sometimes, he misses Cybertron. Guilt over abandoning the search for a way home gnaws at him when he is not entirely focused on you. He knows the others still strive to find a solution. Occasionally, they invite him on missions, living fossils of his former life, but Optimus ceased aiding them for his own interest long ago. He does not wish to return, could not bear to leave you, to forsake the life you have painstakingly woven together. He might as well perish if it meant never seeing you again.

A sound pulls him back to reality, the scratch of tires on a gravel road. You are still distant; he will see you in precisely four minutes and twenty-six seconds, but a subtle smile already creeps onto his faceplate. This is the exact moment he has awaited half the day, yet even now, his composure cracks, revealing his excitement. He wishes to greet you. Now. Immediately.

He mass-shifts, preparing for your return. Would prefer to drive you himself, but you insisted on not taking advantage of him, a decision he never fully understood. Had he not made it abundantly clear that he would do anything for you? That he was at your every beck and call, ready to please and serve? Yet, to his misfortune, it was a harmless decision, one you had every right to make, and he was never the confrontational type.

He watches as you park and step out of the car, holding shopping bags, which he immediately takes from you.

"Greetings, my dearest," he says.

"Hello, love!" you reply. You want to add something else, perhaps to start recounting your day, but he must interrupt you.

His servo cradles your face, fitting its contours perfectly, as if you truly were made for one another. He lowers his helm to your face and kisses you. First the edge of your lips, then your cheek and jaw, steadily trailing down to your neck.

Once, he feared touch, terrified of its power, of how quickly and completely it consumed him. How much he craved, and how little he possessed. Each time, he waited for your permission, for you to dictate what he could and could not do, lest he accidentally hurt you. Destroy the relationship that sustained his wretched life, shattering the trust you had placed in him. And though similar moments remain a near-daily occurrence in your relationship, they have migrated to other spaces, to intimate places. In other circumstances, he has relaxed the self-imposed rigor, dictating for himself when he could, when he should, and when he wanted.

“Not wasting any time today, are you?” you laugh.

"Opti, not here," you chide.

Even he is unsure of what overcame him, you closeness addictive and consuming. He usually waits until you both calmly return home to prove how much he has missed you. Today, he cannot wait. The sight of you breaks him, making him acutely aware of his yearning, which he must somehow release before it consumes him entirely.

He stops immediately, though the taste of your skin lingers on his glossa, teasing him to continue his advances. It unsettles his processor as it invigorates his frame.

"I missed you," he says, syncing his stride with yours.

“I missed you too,” you reply, smiling in a way that infects him with the same expression.

He needed this. Simplicity, a place he could call home. You. For without you, there would be no new day, no spring, and the universe would become empty. Soulless and cold.

[srslyblvck]

injured, five hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x gn!reader

synopsis: you and five hated each other, everyone knew that. you both bickered like children. so what happens when you are in front of his house, injured?

genre: fluff

warnings: blood, injuries

word count: 0.7k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ YOU NEVER LIKED FIVE. He was insufferable, arrogant, and always acted like he was the smartest person in the room—which, unfortunately, was often true. But that didn't make him any less intolerable. The feeling was mutual, and everyone in the Commission knew it. They watched in bewilderment as the two of you hurled insults at each other, yet when it came to missions, you both worked like a well-oiled machine. The IT duo, they called you, though you’d never admit you found some satisfaction in that title.

But the minute the mission was over, the bickering resumed. It was like you couldn't help it. He’d make a snide remark, and you’d fire back, both of you sparking a fire that never quite died down. It was exhausting, but in some twisted way, it kept you sharp.

Tonight, however, was different.

you were stumbling down a dimly lit alley, clutching your bleeding side, blood seeping through your fingers with every step. The world around you was blurring, spinning, and you couldn’t think straight. You didn’t know where to go, or who to turn to. Your mind was a fog of pain, but one name pushed through the haze—Five.

It made no sense. He was the last person you’d ever willingly go to for help. But at that moment, with death breathing down your neck, his house was the only place you could think of, the only place that might be safe. Even if he was the last person you wanted to see right now.

So you forced your legs to move, one agonizing step at a time, until you found yourself at his door, barely holding on. You raised a shaky hand and knocked, the sound weak against the door. A part of you hoped he wouldn’t be home, that you’d pass out here and this whole mess would be over. But the door swung open, and there he was, staring at you with a mix of shock and disbelief.

You tried to say something, but all you could manage was a weak whisper. "I didn't know where else to go..."

Your vision blurred as you felt your knees buckle, and the world started to fade to black. Before you could hit the ground, though, you felt strong arms catch you, holding you up.

Five's heart pounded in his chest as he looked down at you, barely conscious and bleeding. He hated you—no, he loathed you—but seeing you like this, broken and vulnerable, sparked something he couldn’t quite place. He muttered a curse under his breath as he picked you up, carrying you inside with surprising gentleness.

He laid you on his bed, his eyes scanning your body for the source of the blood. The sight of you like this made something twist in his gut, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. But there was no time for that. You needed help, and fast.

He grabbed a first aid kit, hands trembling slightly as he opened it. His eyes lingered on the hem of your shirt, drenched in blood. He knew he had to remove it, but he hesitated, cursing himself for feeling so conflicted. Finally, he shook his head, forcing himself to focus. If he didn’t do this, you’d die.

Carefully, he peeled the bloody shirt away, averting his eyes from anything but the wound on your side. It was bad—deep, and still bleeding heavily. He worked quickly, cleaning and bandaging it as best as he could. Every few moments, he glanced at your face, now pale and eerily still, his mind racing with thoughts he didn’t want to have.

Who did this to you? Who would dare lay a hand on you?

The thought of someone else hurting you filled him with a rage he hadn’t expected, a simmering anger that only intensified with every glance at your unconscious form. If he found out who did this, they’d regret ever crossing you.

As he finished bandaging your side, he grabbed a hoodie from his closet. He carefully slipped it over your head, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did. He was cautious, trying not to hurt you more than you already were.

As he finished, he sat beside you, his mind racing. The sight of you so vulnerable, so close to death, shook him more than he cared to admit. He hated you, or at least that’s what he told himself every time you exchanged sharp words or shot him a scathing glare. But seeing you like this stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite place—a protectiveness he didn’t know he had.

He clenched his fists, staring at the ground, forcing himself to remember all the reasons he couldn’t stand you. The way you challenged him, the way you never backed down, the way you always had to have the last word. But as he glanced at your pale face, a different thought crept into his mind—what if you hadn’t made it to his doorstep?

Five shook his head, pushing the thought away, refusing to let it take root. He wasn’t going to dwell on that, wasn’t going to let himself feel anything other than annoyance. You’d live, you’d recover, and then you’d go back to bickering like you always did. That’s how it had to be.

But for now, he stayed by your side, watching over you, waiting for the moment when you’d open your eyes and start another argument. And for once, he found himself looking forward to it.

[angelx]

Get Even - Chapter 2

word count: 1.9K

cw: frat prez!katsuki bakugou x fem art student!reader. manipulation, emotional tension, morally gray behavior, and a non-verbal kiss initiated without explicit consent (though not portrayed as assault), slow-burn, psychological conflict, blurred intentions, suggestive physical intimacy.

The days following the Sigma Vex party crawled by slower than usual, each one folding into the next like pages in a sketchbook, waiting to be filled.

For most people, the party was just a wild night to forget or brag about. But for Katsuki Bakugou? It was a spark—an itch he couldn’t ignore. The sting of rejection from a quiet girl who’d barely said two words to him gnawed at his pride like acid.

And he never let things go unanswered.

So, over the next week, Katsuki transformed into something new: an observer, a silent shadow trailing just out of sight. Not the creepy kind—at least not yet—but a calculated watcher who memorized the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you concentrated, how you carried your sketchbook like a secret treasure, and the faint limp in your step when you thought no one was looking.

You didn’t expect to see him again. Not after you ditched the party like your social anxiety was on fire. Not after you’d basically sprinted out of that frat house like the ghost of hookup culture was chasing you. But there he was—Katsuki Bakugou—shoulders broad, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, standing like he had every right to be outside the art building on a Wednesday afternoon.

You squinted at him.

“Lost?” you asked, not trying to hide the suspicion in your tone.

He scoffed. “Tch. Just lookin’ for someone.”

You arched a brow. “In the fine arts department?”

“Maybe.” A smirk tugged at his lips like he knew something you didn’t.

Of course, he did.

What you didn’t know—what you couldn’t have known—was that for the past week, Katsuki had been running silent recon like your life was a mission in a video game. He had questions. Who the hell were you? What made you so bold, so different, so mysterious, so... off-limits? You didn’t care about his title, didn’t laugh at his jokes to gain clout, didn’t try to sleep with him for status. You were just you. Sharp-tongued, quiet, weird little art girl who left a party without giving him a second glance.

And that? That shit was a problem. Because he needed to win. And winning meant playing the long game.

“You like coffee?” he asked casually, jerking his chin toward the small cluster of indie cafés that framed the edge of campus.

You shook your head. “Can’t. Stomach’s weird.”

He already knew that, but his eyes lit up like it was brand-new information.

“Huh. What about matcha?”

You blinked. “Only if it’s oat milk.”

“No shit?” he drawled, like it was a happy accident. “That’s what I get, too.” (Lie.)

But you went along with it, even though something buzzed low in your gut like an alarm bell. It wasn’t like Katsuki Bakugou to go out of his way for someone like you. He was loud, popular, the fucking frat president. You were quiet, constantly covered in graphite dust, and allergic to social norms. Your idea of a good night was crying over a sketchpad and watching emotionally devastating anime.

Still... you walked with him. Let him buy you that overpriced matcha from the hipster café that spelled your name wrong but got the drink right.

And then he kept showing up. Every week. Like clockwork.

After your Thursday figure drawing class, he’d be leaning against a lamp post outside. Casual. Like he hadn’t timed your exit down to the minute. Some days he brought pastries. Other times he offered to drive you to your studio, always playing it cool like he was “just passing by.” You weren’t stupid—far from it—but you were curious. And when he looked at you like that, all intense and unreadable and interested, it got harder and harder to push him away. He made you laugh, sometimes. Which pissed you off.

He let you rant about your professors and how one of them said your installation piece was “visually aggressive.” He listened. Actually listened. And when you mentioned that your favorite café had just sold out of their pistachio croissants again, he showed up the next day with two in a bag and a smug little tilt to his mouth.

“What’s the catch?” you asked him one afternoon, sipping from your lukewarm matcha while his stupidly expensive car idled in the parking lot.

He looked at you sidelong. “What d’you mean?”

“You’re nice all of a sudden. Buying me drinks. Driving me places. Listening to my tangents about gender in postmodern sculpture. You’re not trying to get back at me for leaving your party early or something, right?”

His jaw flexed. Just slightly. Just enough.

“No,” he said, voice low. “I’m not.” (Another lie.)

You wanted to believe him. Wanted to ignore the tug in your chest that screamed too good to be true. But he was persistent, damn it. Not pushy—never that—but steady. Present. There. Like he’d decided that if he was going to get under your skin, he was going to earn it. And goddamn it, it was working.

One day, when you were standing outside your studio, keys in one hand and half-eaten croissant in the other, he leaned against the hood of his car and said:

“Y’know, I kinda like you.”

You almost dropped the pastry.

“What?”

“You’re not like the other people I usually hang with.”

“That’s... because I don’t hang with people.”

He chuckled, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Exactly.”

Your stomach flipped. It shouldn’t have. You didn’t know it then, but every moment—every matcha, every ride, every sarcastic comment exchanged between stolen glances—was part of something bigger. A game he wasn’t supposed to lose.

And you? You were the last person who’d ever let yourself be played. But even black sheep get lonely sometimes.

Even you.

Time passed, like paint drying over a canvas you hadn’t realized was already finished.

What started as something strategic—manipulated, observed, handled like a well-planned heist—shifted. Slowly. Almost imperceptibly. Until it wasn’t just about winning anymore.

You and Katsuki Bakugou… became friends. Somehow.

The kind of friends who shared playlists and critiques on other people’s coffee orders. Who texted during class, sent stupid memes at 3AM, and argued over whether matcha was actually good or just Stockholm syndrome in a cup.

And the weirdest part? It didn’t feel fake.

It wasn’t just that he showed up. It was that he remembered things you didn’t even mean to tell him. The way you hated silence in the car, so he started making you custom mixes. The way your fingers always fidgeted with your necklace chain when you were nervous, so he held your hand during your art presentation critique without saying a word. The way you hated when people stood too close while you painted, so he gave you space—but never too much.

And every time you smiled at him, tilted your head, laughed behind your sleeve like you were trying not to show it—his stomach did that thing. (A/N: mf that's tapeworm.)

A flip. A twist. A fucking somersault.

It annoyed the hell out of him. Because what the fuck was that? It wasn’t love. Couldn’t be. Right?

Love was messy. Uncontrollable. Weak. He didn’t do love. He did plans. He did control. He did bets.

But you weren’t playing by his rules anymore. And somewhere between the gallery visits and the long drives where you talked about everything and nothing, the line blurred. The script flipped. He was supposed to reel you in, collect his win, and be done.

But then you looked at him one day, cheeks flushed from the gallery lights, eyes wide and honest and soft in a way he wasn’t built to handle—and he couldn’t shut up.

“I think I’m fucked.”

You blinked, tilting your head like you didn’t hear him right. “What?”

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. The air between you smelled like rain and gallery antiseptic. His jaw clenched like he wanted to punch himself.

“I don’t know what this is,” he muttered. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

Silence. You stared at him. Your throat went dry.

“But then you kept… being you.” His voice dropped. “Kept laughing and looking at me like I’m someone worth knowing. And now? I’m not even sure if I’m in control of this anymore.”

“Is this a confession?” you asked quietly.

He winced. “I think it is. But—hell, I don’t even know if it’s love. Probably not. It’s something. It’s... something that’s wrecking all my plans.”

You didn’t speak right away. The cars outside kept passing, blurring into streaks of color behind the gallery windows. When you finally looked up at him, your voice was low. Honest. Maybe a little scared. “Then what now?”

And for the first time since the bet began, Katsuki didn’t have an answer. You waited. Maybe for him to backtrack. To turn it into a joke. To call you stupid for believing anything he said.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he looked at you like he hated this—hated that you made him feel anything at all. And then, like the last of his self-control finally snapped, he reached forward—and kissed you. No warning. No permission. Just pure need.

It wasn’t gentle. It was desperate. Wild and hungry and bruising, like he’d been holding it in for weeks and couldn’t stand another second of pretending. His hands tangled in your coat, fists clenching fabric like you might disappear if he didn’t hold on hard enough. Your back hit the brick wall of the gallery entrance, breath catching in your throat, and still—still—he didn’t stop.

Because it wasn’t just a kiss. It was an admission.

A quiet, furious surrender.

You kissed him back. You don’t even remember deciding to—but your hands were in his hair and your mouth was on his and the world went mute around you.

Time hiccupped. And when he finally pulled away—barely, just enough to speak—his voice cracked around the edges.

“Sorry... I didn't mean to-”

You stared up at him. Lips swollen, thoughts scattered like charcoal dust on the floor.

“It's okay,” you whispered.

And neither of you knew what came next. But for the first time, it wasn’t about games anymore.

Katsuki’s eyes searched yours like he was still catching up to what he’d just done—like part of him couldn’t believe it either. Then he spoke, voice lower now. Rougher.

“You wanna come home with me?”

You didn’t answer right away. Couldn’t. Your chest was still tight, skin still buzzing from the kiss. But you nodded—slow, deliberate—and he exhaled like he’d been holding that breath for hours.

The car ride was quiet. Not the awkward kind. Not really. He didn’t put on music. Didn’t talk. Just drove with one hand on the wheel and the other… slipping into yours.

You glanced down at the contact—his fingers wrapped around yours, thumb tracing slow circles across your knuckles like he couldn’t help it. Like he needed to touch you just to stay grounded.

And then, that same hand moved—casual at first, then deliberate—his palm grazing your thigh.

You tensed. Not in fear. In anticipation.

His eyes flicked toward you, then back to the road. No smirk. No cocky comment. Just quiet, thick tension filling every inch of space between you.

By the time he parked, your heartbeat was knocking against your ribs like it was trying to escape. The door shut with a soft click.

You followed him up to his apartment. No words exchanged. Just breaths. Just glances.

And when the door closed behind you—when you were standing in his entryway, shoes still on, jacket half-zipped—you turned to look at him.

Katsuki Bakugou.

The boy who was supposed to play you.

The boy who kissed you like he meant every second of it.

He didn’t move. Not yet. But his eyes were on you like he was waiting for a sign—anything to tell him he hadn’t just completely undone himself for nothing.

You took a step closer. And neither of you said a word.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

PART 3 IS OUT NOW: Get Even - Chapter 3

Check the full series here: Get Even - MHA AU SERIES

check out my other works here!: MHA MASTERLIST

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Don't forget to reblog this yall i love you guys so much ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭‎°｡⋆♡‧₊˚

[caramelkoo]

be still my heart — jjk [two]

the one in which Jungkook lets his imagination run wild and you confront Jimin about your past.

genre : childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.1k

chapter warnings : strong language, kissing, jungkook is again nervous around Destiny. That's it i guess lmk if i missed anything.

a/n : ohmygod the first part got so much love i just couldn't wait to post this. This one is a bit intense. I love my babiest baby jungkook so much. Please enjoy my lovely people and remember you're so loved :> feel free to send asks. kisses.

Jungkook

During Jungkook’s college days, there was a guy named Oscar who’d sit beside him in class with his round glasses resting on his face. He would bunk classes almost every day which led the ever so curious Jungkook to follow him one day in order to find out what’s so special that he’s even willing to bunk classes for? Listen, the nerdy Jungkook thought bunking classes is bad manners. Don’t come at him.

Eventually, he found himself watching Oscar playing the guitar inside the vacant auditorium and he can swear he’s heard nothing more melodic than that. He figured the guy escaped so he could do what he loves. It was his passion.

If someone were to ask him, what’s his passion? Jungkook would say, Hockey. It pumps him up, it brings him back to life. He was born to do this.

He has seen his older brother playing hockey for as long as he can remember but trying the sport for himself? That never came to him, until his brother thought handing out a hockey stick to a 15 year old would be funny.

Newsflash, it wasn’t funny and as much as he doesn’t want to, Jungkook has no option than to give him the credit for him being here. It’s only right. The moment he held that hockey stick it was like the clouds parted and angels started singing.

This life right here is something he has built with hours and hours of practice, diet, diligence and working himself out until he’s a sweaty mess.

It’s not like every other 28 year old’s life, it’s different as well as demanding but every other 28 year old is also not being thrown into the penalty box like him right?

On a good day he would even call himself a conflict-avoidant guy until it comes to his teammates. Then, he’s an animal, ready to tear down every motherfucker who dares to touch them. Dramatic? he doesn't think so.

Yes, they piss him off but they’re a team, it’s a unified responsibility that they have. You stop at nothing to protect your own. The spark of defensiveness is bound to come to the surface given he's the defenseman of the team.

This is why he’s in here, trapped behind this glass shield as he watches the guys do their worst performance till date. The forward of the opposite team tried to get a fight started making Jungkook see red. His instincts led him to act immediately. He had to do something to put an end to it and breaking the guy’s nose seemed like a nice option.

The lions are not an easy team to play with, they’re hard hitters and show no mercy. That’s what coach has been telling them ever since they landed here. Seems like nobody listened. Fuckers.

Sweat drips from his hair as he watches the game, ears filling up with screams behind him.

“Jeon Jungkook I’ll have your babies”

“Jungkook you’re so hot it makes me insane”

“Oh god this man will be my death”

“He can slap me and I’ll thank him”

God help him. The thing is, the shitshow before him is not the only reason behind him being a mess today. Destiny has been… weird lately. At the risk of sounding like a goner, she’s not acknowledging him at all, like at all.

She used to grab the seat in front of him on the plane whenever the team flew for the games but this time she didn’t so much as look at the poor guy let alone sitting before him. Is she hurt because of last time? Did he fuck up again? This proclivity of fumbling every time he’s around her needs to be checked.

“Dude, we couldn’t have held a candle to them.” says Taehyung.

Ah yes, the guys lost the game if it wasn’t predictable enough and now the coach will have their heads on a platter ready to serve. Well, he doesn't want to do that any more than Jungkook himself does.

Jungkook gets rid of his shin pads, placing them on the bench. “Try saying that in front of coach”

“He’ll understand”

Yoongi glares at him, “The fuck he will. He’s been in our faces telling us how wild it might be over there. Who listened? Because you sure not did, Tae”

Taehyung chuckles in disbelief, propping his hands on his waist. “Dude, you’re targeting me as if I was the one breaking noses and all.”

He gives Jungkook a side eye. Oh he’s so gonna get Tae later.

“You might as well have. And as for you,” he glances at Jungkook, "I'll just hope you come back in one piece."

“Alright, cut it out” Namjoon says as he slips into his practice jersey. That’s so like him. Heading straight for practice after a big game, whether or not they win.

He’s one of the most dedicated people Jungkook has ever seen and you can’t generally get a praise out of him like this.

He blocks out their bickering and focuses on getting out of his hockey pants. A sharp pain shoots up in his knee making him cringe. That’s strange. He doesn’t remember his knee getting involved in the ruckus. Anyway, he makes a mental note of letting Destiny know about it and not repeat the same douchebaggery.

“Hey bud, you doing okay?” Namjoon asks as he’s rubbing the painful spot.

He looks up, “Yeah it’s… it’s just a slight pain. Might be a cramp for all I know”

He pats Jungkook’s shoulder in support, a kind smile plastered on his face. “I hope so and hey, don’t be picking fights like that anymore. You understand?”

Jungkook is quick to defend himself. “But that asshole–”

“I know,” he nods, “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Let it be your last.”

He gives up, nodding his head. “Yeah. I’ll resist”

Namjoon is right. Jungkook did not pick a fight and he knows it. He also knows that Jungkook is always ready to come at his players’ defense, however that might be.

After all, it all boils down to a nasty fight on the rink which is nothing to be surprised about. There have been plenty of fights down here, some resulting in broken limbs and some going as far as a person on a stretcher.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Nightclubs are hands down Jungkook’s least favorite spot ever. He hates the smell, he hates the crowd and he hates how loud everything gets. If it weren’t for Yoongi, he would be at home chilling or overthinking. No one can tell.

Although, he’s not sure if he can even call that four walled room his ‘home’. It’s not home, it’s just a place he was given to stay at when he joined the federation and while he’s more than grateful for it, an empty, emotionless space where he only exists in can’t be qualified as a home.

However, he can’t stop wanting a place which is only his. A place he can share with someone he loves, wakeup next to her, cook with her, make memories with her. A home overflowing with laughter and giggles only.

Clearly, that murky ass house can never live up to that expectation not when it consists of a bathroom smaller than his fist, a bedroom which can’t fit more than 3 people at once and a kitchen he, for some reason, can’t get himself to cook in. He believes someday he’ll have that albeit the wait.

“Do you think I’m joking?” Taehyung’s voice is louder than ever before because of the surroundings. Sitting beside Namjoon as his hands fist a glass of old fashioned, he acts like he just spilled the most expensive beans.

He dramatically places one hand on his chest and turns to Jungkook, “Dude, tell him. Tell him how I got my dick pierced last week”

A chuckle leaves him, “Better yet, you can lose those pants and give him a live show”

The guys break out in fits of laughter.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen my dick already, you twat. I did it for my girlfriend alright? Was this close to tattooing her name too but didn’t,” he holds up his thumb and forefinger to show how much,

“I don’t want my guy to swell and look like I accidentally got it stuck between a door or something.”

From his peripheral vision, Jungkook spots Destiny walking up to them looking like an absolute goddess. She’s wearing a shoulder strapped bodycon dress tonight with her hair curled in such a way that it makes her face look more feminine. He has seen so much of her in those scrubs that she’s doing things to him now. Hold your damn horses, Jungkook.

The poor guy can’t so much as look at her for too long or he’ll get hard. That’s something he can’t allow himself to do right here when all his friends are gathered. They’re never gonna let him live that down.

Maybe, when he’s alone he can fuck his hand with the thoughts of her taking him into that sweet mouth she’s got a bold red lipstick look going on. His cheeks turn crimson and he fights back a smile.

“Hey, guys” she greets them as she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. A gold hoop adorning her. God, she’s trying to kill him. She's like Jungkook’s own version of heaven.

The guys all smile up at her like she just asked them to give her a foot massage. Meanwhile, her eyes never land on Jungkook.

“Jimin, can I steal you for a second?” she hesitates.

“Sure” Jimin places down his drink and stands up. He walks up to her and rests his hand at the small of her back making Jungkook’s smile drop. Nice, he's getting jealous over a kind gesture now. Next thing you know, he'll be ending anyone who dares to breathe in her direction.

Namjoon shakes his head as he follows them both with his gaze. “Am I the only one who thinks they’re fucking?”

Yoongi dissolves into laughter while Taehyung spits out his drink. Almost. Jungkook? He finds nothing funny about it but refrains himself from saying something stupid in the heat of the moment.

“There’s some tension, yes. Can’t say anything about the fucking part though” says Yoongi.

“What do you think?”

“What?”

“Do you think they’re shagging?” asks Taehyung in a hushed voice.

“I think you assholes need therapy” With that he rests his own glass of drink on the table and walks away. Their voices calling out to him become more and more faint as he goes on.

He needs to find out what is it that gave rise to this sudden change in Destiny and if he’s the reason for it. His stomach churns as soon as the thought of her having something going with Jimin crosses his mind.

The guys were joking back there and given their proclivity of joking around, he takes their statements with a grain of salt. Howbeit, he can’t help but wonder the same.

The worst thing of all is he doesn’t have any right to feel this way. She’s not his and she might never be for all he knows. So maybe this is for the best, maybe if she keeps on discounting him like this, it would be slightly easier to forget her. Right?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

“What do you think you’re doing? This is a men's bathroom?” A guy who must be in his early twenties nearly pokes his finger in Jimin’s eyes. His gaze darts over to you as he gives you a disgusted look.

Jimin levels him with an intimidating glare, “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and we’ll be good. Yeah?”

He flashes you another appalling look, his nose flaring before he walks out. For a second you might even endorse with the guy but in your own defense, the club is buzzing with commotion and there was not a single space Jimin and you found where you both could have a proper conversation without anyone bumping into you. You spent quite the money on this dress and it'd be bummer to ruin it. It’s insane how crowded it is. So, here you are.

Jimin turns to you, his fingers still laced through yours for the sake of your safety. “I’m sorry for that”

You snatch your hand back. “No it’s totally fine. I mean it’s not usual for a guy to bring a woman in here” an awkward chuckles leaves you.

“It is”

Your smile drops, “Huh?”

“They do bring women in here. Well, let’s just say they do everything except have a talk”

Of course they do. God, this is more awkward than you imagined it would to be. You could die of embarrassment right now but if you don’t clear things up with him, it would be more humiliating to simply exist around him. You roll your shoulders back, plucking up enough courage.

“Let’s discuss the elephant in the room, shall we?”

He steps closer to you, just enough to catch you off guard but not enough to knock the breath out of your chest. There is someone else who's been doing that job lately.

“What elephant Destiny? The one about us having the best time together or how you left me the next morning? Alone and pathetic” he demands.

Well, knock me down with a feather.

Your mouth parts in shock, “I left you? You sneaked out, Jimin and you know it”

You wonder if he’s gonna come clean about that. If he’s gonna stop blaming you and take accountability for once. You guys did have the best time together and as short lived as it was, you regret nothing about that night until this point.

Now that he stands in front of you, accusing you of being so cowardly that you dared to leave him, it makes you question your own integrity.

He takes another step forward, automatically making you take one back as he searches your face. “So where were you when I woke up? Where were you when I reached my hand out and didn’t find you lying next to me, huh?” his voice barely a whisper.

Enough. You wouldn’t have bothered to stop the scream that’s begging to leave you had someone pointed a gun at your head. A gal can only take so much before she snaps.

“I WAS OUT THERE SEARCHING FOR MORNING AFTER PILLS”

The vacant bathroom echoes with your own words. The words you were holding back from saying out loud.

“I went in search of those, Jimin. Apparently, that’s what you’re supposed to do when you fuck each other and not take necessary precautions”

He stills, backing off as if you had slapped him. A heavy silence hangs in the air around you.

Jimin’s eyes flash with barely contained astonishment as he looks around trying to find words. When he doesn’t say anything, you take it as an opportunity to continue.

“You weren’t lying about us having a great time together. I accept that, we did have fun and I don’t regret it which honestly, I’m not so sure of now.”

A quick look of hurt passes through his face before he recovers.

“I was planning on staying back too oh… how badly I wanted to stay back but you have to understand that I was also at the prime of my career as a professional physical therapist. I couldn’t afford having a child, Jimin. Back then even the thought scared me. So, I left for a while, mentally promising you to come back. You were sleeping so soundly and you looked so beautiful and I didn’t want to disturb you—”

Your words come to an abrupt halt as he takes a long step towards you, backing you up against the white wall behind.

It’s not the same, your chest is not rising and falling rapidly like it did back then. Gosh, you couldn’t even speak in front of him. This time you’re immune to his eyes, his closeness and his warmth. Is this what they call healing?

“You should have” his brown eyes flash with hunger, “You should have disturbed me, Destiny. I would have woken up, ate you out, maybe fucked you again while wearing a condom, cuddled you and then accompanied you to the medical store.”

Oh fuck no, this is not happening. You’re not getting yourself back into this situation where he charms you with his mere words and leaves you cold. You deserve better than that.

You push him back with your palms on his chest, “Maybe, but I think I wouldn't have it any other way,”

You look straight into his eyes and nowhere else to make him feel how serious you are, leaving no room for uncertainty.

“Bella, my assistant, keeps saying that everything happens for a reason. It’s written up there," you point your forefinger up, "I feel the same about what went down with us. There was a reason why you left, there was a reason behind me not bothering to wake you up."

A bitter chuckle slips through your mouth, “Although, I can’t seem to grasp why the hell are you here?”

The way your heart is beating inside your chest, you might end up on a ventilator. It’s because you haven’t had much control of anything in your life, this feels particularly massive. This is one way for you to take back control, because it’s your choice and yours alone.

You try not to let the tears spill, “I asked you to spare me a few minutes just so I could talk to you about it but this isn’t how I imagined this conversation to go, Jimin. Regardless of that, I need you to do me a favor”

He holds your gaze. “What favor?”

You clear your burning throat, “I’m requesting you to please not initiate any conversation about our past with any of the guys. That could pretty much cost me my job and yours.”

He offers you a stern nod, “You have my word”

With that you turn and walk around just like you always do and always should when it’s time. Only this time, you don’t feel victorious. Instead, the feeling of utter shock rushes through your body because standing outside is the only person you had been avoiding to say the least.

You flinch. “Jungkook?”

He’s leaning back against the cold wall with his hands inside his front pockets, head hanging low. You can’t make his face out because of the darkness.

He frantically lifts up his head when he hears you calling, looking as surprised as you, “Hey, I— wait, why are you coming out of the men’s room?”

You shift on your feet, folding your hands in front of you. “What? OH !! Well, I had some business with Jimin and this felt like a nice place to.. you know”

You can’t talk for the life of you. How do you explain yourself to him without word vomiting? But then you think better of it and just shake your head.

“You know what? Never mind that. What about you? Why are you standing here like someone just broke your heart?”

No fucking way did you just say that. What is this? A bollywood movie? You immediately feel like you hit a nerve when his face falls, causing you to curse yourself.

He’s silent for a moment before he stands up straight. “You could say that”

“Wait, really?”

Yet again you’re struggling to breathe, a spark of curiosity threatening to rise up. Why do you care about his heart? He’s been all but rude to you every day since you’ve begun working by his side so why would you care if someone put his bloody heart in a blender? You have been assigned to take care of his body, what happens unrelated to that is none of your business.

Except, you do. There is a teeny tiny part of you that cares. Though, you can’t say if it’s the doctor inside of you or something else. Something which could ruin you and save you all at once.

“Who is it?” you ask in a small voice.

His eyes rank behind you and he pulls you close to him by grabbing your arm. You see a man passing by, faltering on his own under the influence of probably the sheer amount of alcohol inside him.

When you look up, you have to swallow a gasp. Jungkook’s face is so close to you, you can almost count his moles. The one under his lips is begging to be kissed and you hold yourself back from grabbing him by his jacket as you kiss the hell out of him.

Wait what?!

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with something you can’t pinpoint. It’s like a mixture of anger and adoration. Soft lips brush your temples as your heart beats out of your chest.

“It’s not safe here. Why don’t you go join Bella? If I break another nose it’ll cost me good”

You lean back, still in his arms. It would be nice if you get out of his hold. You should shove him away too exactly like you did with Jimin but for some reason, you can’t. His hold is safe, cozy. It reminds you of your grandmas cookie recipe. Warm and lovely.

“Another nose? Did you get into a fight?”

He breaks away, turning his back to you but you clutch his forearm as you hold him back before he can bolt.

“You know the PR is gonna make your life a living hell. What did you do?”

His jaw sets instinctively as he looks at you for a moment before speaking.

“Destiny, if you don’t want me kissing that sweet mouth of yours and imprint my name on it for once and for all, get the fuck out of here.” he rasps.

That's it. Flashbacks of that night and that fucking dream consume you. It doesn't help at all that he looks so dashing tonight in all black. Black leather jacket, black pants and his black boots. You're having visions you shouldn't have. They're nice. Farfetched but nice, nonetheless.

You release his hand like it will set you have you combust if you keep holding onto it for even a moment longer. You turn around, with the intent of getting out of his proximity when his voice stops you.

“Destiny”

You don’t turn around because something is telling you if you do, you will never be the same.

“My life turned into a living hell the moment you stopped looking at me”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook

Jungkook is dying. 

Figuratively, of course.

He should have taken Destiny seriously when she said that the PR is going to make his life miserable once he gets to know about the mess he had made. His phone is buzzing on the kitchen counter. He knows who it is but he doesn’t pick up.

Instead, he just waits until it stops ringing. Jungkook can see it all playing out in his head. He will be called to the PR’s office as soon as he enters the academy and the PR is gonna ask him why he did what he did, Jungkook will then tell him that he's a a man of virtue, he will ask him to repent and tell him to fuck off. Very classic. Been there, done that. 

He drops his head low, palms splayed in front of him. Calling last night chaotic would be an understatement. He said things he shouldn’t have and heard things he hoped he wouldn’t. It was not deliberate, of course. He would like to call it a spur of the moment.

Alright, he was fucking jealous. There he said it. He was jealous of Park Jimin because that man was touching who Jungkook had been longing for, he was talking to the women Jungkook had been begging to look at him once and allow him to breathe. 

When he reaches the academy, he quickly asks about Destiny’s whereabouts and goes on to find her. He thinks his knee needs to be discussed because he can’t risk not playing the next game.

He's not sure if he's prepared for the uneasiness that's about to welcome itself but– god if you’re listening, help him, he prepares himself as much as he possibly can. 

Raising his hand to make a fist, he knocks on her office door. This would be his first time inside, if she would even let him in.

“Come in” her voice reaches Jungkook. 

He takes a long deep breath and pushes the door wide open. Stepping inside he looks at her sitting in her chair with glasses resting on top of her button nose. She looks so adorable. He doesn’t think he has ever seen her with glasses on but he approves. 

“Jungkook? Is everything okay?” 

Is it? Why is she acting like everything about last night was a dream? Did I imagine it all? Jungkook wonders.

He slips his hands inside his front pockets and nods, “My knee is acting a bit weird. I wanted to get it checked. See if there’s anything serious.” 

She takes her glasses off and rises to her feet. Pointing to one of the chairs, she says, “Sit down and let me have a look”

He does what she asked as he leans back to make himself comfortable. An eerie silence surrounds them, making every inch of Jungkook's body stiff as he grips the armrests of the chair a bit tighter. He doesn’t let it appear that way of course. He’d rather die. 

When she’s satisfied, she gets down on her knees and looks up at him. The visual is lethal but not something which he hasn’t already imagined.

He's not entirely proud to say that he has had the privilege of seeing her on her knees in his dreams, in the darkness of his bathroom, in his fantasies. He's seen it all but the real sight nearly makes him blow his load.

What do you think happens to a man who witnesses a queen getting down on her knees for him? Ask Jungkook. Mentally thanking himself for not wearing the sweatpants, he prepares to answer any of her questions.

“Do you wanna tell me what caused this?” 

“There um, there was a fight back at the game. I felt a slight pain in the changing room but didn’t think much of it. Thought I’d let you know about it.” 

She smiles, “Well I’m proud of you for that minus the fighting part. I’m sure you’ll be discussing that in the PR’s office” 

As she’s examining any possible pulls or cracks, he thinks about apologizing to her about last night. To be very honest, he's tired of this awkward silence every time he's around her. Not talking is one thing, walking on eggshells around each other is another. He wants her to behave the same way she does with the rest of the boys. 

“Destiny, I needed to talk to you about something” 

She looks up again, her eyes filled with curiosity. 

“Sure. Was something else hurt during the fight?” 

“What? No. I wanted to talk about last night” 

She stiffens as her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. Fuck, why is his heart beating so fast? Wait, is he sweating? 

Then she shrugs, talking in a casual tone. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about” 

“Why?” Jungkook can’t help but ask.

“Well,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You and I both were drunk and people do stupid stuff when they’re drunk so.”

“There was not a single drop of alcohol in my system. However, whatever I said was in the spur of the moment.” he says wording his previous thoughts, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry” 

She’s quiet for a moment before she lowers her head and mumbles something. 

“WellIhadasexdreamaboutyousoweareeveniguess”

He lowers down his own head, trying to listen clearly, ‘What was that?”

“I said I had a sex dream about you so we’re even” as soon as the words slip out of her, she claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide as saucers. Meanwhile, he just sits there wondering if he heard her right or his brain is as fucked as his knee. 

His mouth goes dry as he keeps looking at her. He feels like someone just dumped a bucket full of ice water on his head. She had a sex dream about him? When? How was it? 

“It was uh okay” 

Kill him, kill him now because he said that out loud. See, this is what he means when he says he messes up every time he's in front of her. That’s exactly what the last thought that crosses his head before he pulls her by the back of her neck and smashes his lips on hers. Fuck it, he can’t take it anymore.

When she kisses him with the same amount of passion and hunger, he resists himself from hoisting her up on the table and eating her sweet cunt. She matches every movement of his lips. Hers suck his before his take her pink and pillowy ones. 

Within seconds, he has her caged in his arms. A low moan slips past her lips as she clutches onto Jungkook's shoulders for support, his fingers digging into the sides of her waist. Is this what feels like to kiss Kim Destiny? Is he actually touching and tasting her?

She tastes like cherries and bubblegum and he swears he's tasted nothing sweeter. He wants to have this taste every day on his tongue, and wants to remember it till the day he takes his last breath. Maybe, even longer than that. 

He pulls back and cups her cheek, running his thumb along her lower lip as she catches her breath. She’s got her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling against his. Jungkook can feel her hard nipples through her scrubs.

Someone shakes him by the shoulders and he snaps out, blinking rapidly. He looks around and finds himself sitting on the very chair Destiny asked him to but when a feminine voice calls out his name, it's not hers.

“Well, watching my best friend on her knees in front of my step brother was not the visual I thought I needed”

Turns out, it takes a lot to make that someone up there 'happy' because standing in front of him is his only step sister. It's hilarious how unpredictable life happens to be. After all, not only did he imagine kissing Destiny after she told him about her little sex dream but will now have to figure out how to face his sister without wanting to hurl himself out the window.

Can he catch a break?

Taglist - @keylime4eva @xumyboo @jash719 @dmstoyangyang @pitchblack0309 @withluvjm @chaelvrx @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw (ilusm and thank you for reading <3)

[greenxgloss]

A House Full of Strangers (KNJ)

18+ MDNI

Pairing: FearfulAttachment!Namjoon x Yearning!Y/n

Summary: When Namjoon visits his cousin in a quiet town, an unexpected friendship sparks between you. Over one summer, it deepens—until timing, and a new relationship, drives a quiet wedge between you. Years later, fate brings you back together during a stormy night in the city, where unspoken feelings and unresolved tension finally resurface.

Themes: Protected sex, emotional tension, past heartbreak, pining, slight (very very slight) jealousy, brief emotional distancing and unresolved conflict

Word Count: 5k

You weren’t even sure whose idea it was to throw a birthday party for Daniel in the first place—he didn’t like cake, crowds, or the vague stress of small talk—but somehow his backyard was full of half-drunk locals and the scent of barbecued tofu, and you were tucked into a sun-bleached lawn chair nursing a fizzy kombucha like it might save your life.

And then he walked in.

Tall. Broad. A little too clean-looking for this dusty small town. City-born for sure. His hair was a soft brown under the string lights, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled like he’d folded it five minutes before showing up and called it good enough.

He glanced around, clearly trying to make sense of the guest list—then muttered, mostly to himself but just loud enough to carry, “Is it just me or does everyone here look like they kind of hate each other?”

You laughed before you could stop yourself—an unexpected, genuine sound that came from your gut, not just your mouth.

His head turned at the sound.

“You agree, huh?” he said, smile crooked and curious, like he hadn’t expected a witness. “Did I offend your friend or your ex or something?”

You shook your head. “Nah, just the girl who brought gluten-free beer. So basically the worst person here.”

That made him laugh—low and warm. “I’m Namjoon,” he said, holding out a hand. “Cousin of the birthday boy. Temporary townie.”

You took his hand. His grip was careful. “Temporary?”

“Just here for the summer,” he said, giving the backyard a once-over like he already had regrets. “Or until Daniel starts feeding me meatloaf.”

“Good luck,” you said. “He made me lentil loaf once. Still recovering.”

From that moment, you became friends. Effortlessly. Days passed, then weeks. You’d meet at the lake, legs hanging off the dock, tossing pebbles into the water and letting conversations wander. He was smart—brilliant, really—but never made you feel like he needed to prove it. Just warm, slightly awkward, poetic without trying to be. You joked about astrology, smoked exactly one joint in a parked car while laughing over conspiracy theories, and fought over who made the better playlist.

What started as playful flirting and stolen glances became something more. Not romantic. Not yet. But undeniably charged. You'd both pretend not to notice how close your knees sat, or the way his eyes lingered on your lips when you talked. Neither of you made a move.

Until you did. But not in the way he expected.

Six months in, after he’d extended his stay, gotten a job at the local froyo spot (you teased him about the apron, he let you), you told him—bright-eyed, hesitant—that you were dating someone.

His name was Ri. And just like that, something shifted in Namjoon. Slightly. Quietly. But enough for you to feel it.

He stopped finishing his thoughts. Stopped texting first. And when you brought Ri around, Namjoon always seemed to have somewhere else to be.

A year passed.

And then he was gone.

You didn’t say goodbye. You weren’t sure if he wanted you to. And life kept going, the way it always does.

About a year after that, you moved out to the city for work, thinking this was your big break. Ri had broken up with you, and you thought this was more of a reason to leave town; nothing was there for you anymore.

On moving day, you ran into none other than Namjoon. The brief interaction between the two of you taught you that he lives in the apartment just upstairs, and you made an awkward joke about how you hope he walks lightly, but it didn't land, and after that, you never really spoke again.

3 years pass and your ‘new’ job has gone nowhere, you still haven't really made any friends in he city and you’ve become a homebody. You’ve been lying to everyone back home about life in the city in fear of disappointing them.

You’d almost forgotten Namjoon lived above you.

Well—forgotten wasn’t the right word. You just stopped trying to remember. After a year of distant nods in the hallway, a shared mailbox area filled with silence, and the sound of his footsteps overhead like a heartbeat you couldn’t reach, Namjoon had become more myth than man again. A ghost in your ceiling.

It had been three years since you last spoke to him. You weren’t even sure if he still liked froyo.

Today, the storm had started slow, but now it was biblical. Rain lashed against your window like it had something to prove, and the power went out with an audible thunk that made you jump. Your apartment was cast in shadows, candles flickering like nervous thoughts.

You were halfway through lighting another when you heard it: sneakers padding up the hall and stop outside your front door.

A knock.

You hesitated. You knew that knock. It wasn’t the UPS guy. It wasn’t your neighbor with the weird cat. He still knocked like he did four years ago. It was—

Namjoon found himself in quite the predicament. He had just arrived home, his phone completely dead, and with a storm rapidly approaching, he had hurried back hoping to charge it enough to get him through the evening until his usual 10:30 PM bedtime.

In his haste, however, he underestimated his own strength. As he jammed his key into the deadbolt, a soft metallic snap echoed ominously — the key had broken off inside the lock. Staring down at the fragment in his hand, then back at the deadbolt, and once again at the now-useless shard, Namjoon let out a low groan and bowed his head in exasperation.

But then, an idea struck.

Without wasting another second, he sprinted up the stairs to the rooftop and made his way to the fire escape, descending hastily toward the window of his apartment. By now, the rain had intensified into a relentless downpour. Peering through the glass, he immediately noticed the telltale signs of a power outage: the digital clock was dark, and the small red standby light on the TV was no longer glowing. He was too late.

Still, he needed to get inside. He attempted to lift the window, only to nearly smack his face against the glass when it refused to move. Soaked and breathless, he leaned in closer and spotted the problem — the latch on the inside was locked.

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with frustration, a lump forming in his throat.

Then he remembered: your place. It might not have been the best idea — for all he knew, you wouldn’t even answer the door — but at that moment, it felt like his only option. With no other choice, Namjoon made his way back down the stairs, took a steadying breath, and knocked.

-

“Hey,” came a voice, muffled but unmistakable. “…It’s Namjoon.”

You opened the door.

He was soaked. Absolutely drenched, water dripping from his hair and jacket like he’d fallen in a river, not just battled the storm. He looked ridiculous. And miserable. And beautiful in that unshakeable way he always had.

He blinked at you, sheepish. “I, uh. Locked myself out.”

Your eyes flicked over his soaked sneakers, the busted umbrella in his hand, the bend in his key that stuck awkwardly out of his other. “You okay?”

“Not really,” he laughed, breath fogging. “Tried the roof. Fire escape. Window’s locked. And I think the universe is finally done playing subtle.”

You stepped aside.

“Come in.”

Namjoon stepped inside, shaking like a storm dog, water puddling behind him. Your candlelight caught the edge of his jaw, the collarbone peeking from his drenched shirt. He looked around your apartment like he hadn’t imagined it—like it was more real than memory had allowed.

He stood awkwardly at the door while you walked off to look for a towel and clothes he could borrow. He could smell the scent of old books and the air freshener you’ve used since you met him. “It smells like your old room in here. You still read a lot, I bet?” he called out as he continued to look around.

Just then you walked back out to him and handed him a sweatshirt and a towel. You knew wearing sweatshirts three sizes too big would come in handy at some point. You had no clue a man twice your size from your past would be the one who needed it.

He pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the ground to dry himself off. 

Fuck he’s gotten bigger. Has he been working out. He did use to obsess over biking, maybe he still does. He looks like he does a whole lot more that jus biking somet–

"You gonna keep gawking, or are you gonna help me dry off?" he asked, voice low and teasing—just enough to make your cheeks heat.

You rolled your eyes in an attempt to collect yourself, snatching the towel from his hands and swatting his arm lightly. “You’re impossible.”

Still, you didn’t leave. You stood close enough to feel the residual heat rolling off him, your hand moving in slow, distracted strokes as you ran the towel across the back of his neck and over his shoulders.

He shivered—not from cold, but from the proximity.

“You didn’t have to come here,” you said after a moment, quieter now.

“Didn’t really think about it,” he admitted, still not meeting your gaze. “Just… wanted to be here.”

The rain pounded against the windows in heavy sheets. Your heartbeat echoed it, just as relentless.

He turned to face you fully now, wearing your sweatshirt like it belonged to him, his hair damp and curling at the ends. He looked softer like this—less guarded.

And maybe it was the storm, or the closeness, or the sheer intimacy of sharing space like this—but something shifted.

“I didn’t mean to show up like this,” he said, his voice gentler than you expected. “I just… didn’t know where else to go.”

You stared at him for a second too long, unsure of whether your next breath would calm you or set everything on fire.

“You’re always welcome here,” you murmured, barely audible.

The tension hummed—quiet but undeniable.

“Yeah?” he asked, taking a step closer. “Even if I’m soaked, stranded, and mildly pathetic?”

You cracked a small smile, reaching up to ruffle his damp hair. “Especially then.”

And for the first time that night, he smiled back—slow, crooked, and entirely disarming.

“I should’ve come sooner,” he said quietly, voice low.

You crossed your arms. “Three years sooner?”

He looked at you then—really looked at you, like he was seeing the version of you that had grown from that summer girl. The one who had laughed too loudly at his cousin’s party. The one who used to sing out of key in his passenger seat. The one who didn’t know how to say goodbye when he left.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he admitted.

You swallowed. “You didn’t have to say anything. You just had to show up.”

“I’m here now.” he paused, probably thinking that this maybe wasnt a good idea after all. “I also wasn’t sure if Ri was living here with you.” he padded to the bathroom to ring out his clothes.

“We broke up before i moved here.”

“I figured when i never saw him around.” He cleared his throat and hung his shirt on the towel rack. 

You looked up at his buzzed hair, thinking about how much you missed his beautiful length. “Your hairs shorter.” 

“Memories in long hair. Not good ones.”

“Of us?”

“What i wished was us.” His voice was low but you could hear the shame he carried. He really does feel guilty for leaving. 

He broke the silence first.

"You remember that party?" he asked, almost as if reading your mind. “The one where you said you only showed up for the cake?”

You turned toward him, lips twitching. “I still stand by that. It was good cake.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That was a weird night. Didn’t think we’d end up... whatever this is.”

You met his gaze then, and something flickered between you. Not quite anger. Not quite longing. But a potent mix of both.

“You could’ve said something,” you said softly, surprising even yourself.

He looked at you like you’d just dropped a glass on the floor. “So could you.”

“I was scared,” you admitted.

“So was I,” he said. “Still am.”

That landed heavier than either of you expected. You felt it settle in your chest, sharp and warm.

You exhaled, stepping back until your spine gently brushed the wall. “So now what? You show up at my door soaked and storm-tossed, and we just pretend none of that matters?”

He laughed bitterly, raking a hand through his damp hair. “I didn’t plan this. I wasn’t trying to—” He cut himself off. “I just wanted to see you.”

Your throat tightened.

“I don’t know what we are,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “But I know what we almost were. And I can’t stop thinking about that.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeve, your eyes burning with the kind of frustration that only came from wanting something you didn’t know how to ask for.

The distance between you was still small. So small.

And still, neither of you moved.

Because whatever this was—it wasn’t ready to be named.

Not yet.

“Oh, that’s not fair,” you said, your voice breaking into a sharp exhale, thick with frustration. “That’s not fair. You left, Namjoon. You left, and when I finally moved out here—when I finally got brave enough to start over in the same city—you’ve barely said more than five words to me in three years. And now, suddenly, you're here? Would you even be standing in this apartment if your key hadn’t snapped off in the lock and the sky hadn’t decided to drown you out of hiding?”

You sighed, the kind of sigh that didn’t just carry breath, but disappointment years in the making. Your hands raked through your hair, not to fix it—just to do something. To stop yourself from shaking. “You’re real, Joon. You’ve always been real. You never stalled, never bullshitted. That’s why I liked you. That’s why I—” You stopped yourself.

“So why are you bullshitting now?”

Namjoon didn’t answer. Not with words. Instead, he busied himself with the mundane: wringing out his socks and laying those out on the side of the tub. Like it would buy him time.

But you weren't 20 anymore. You wouldn’t be pacified by silence or half-excuses dressed as distractions.

And deep down, you knew—that was exactly what he was trying to do.

The candlelight flickered, casting a pale yellow glow down the hallway. You stood there, arms crossed, picking at your cuticles and sighing hard as the rain battered against the windows like it was trying to echo your heartbeat.

He was stalling again. You knew him well enough to recognize the way he needed to breathe, to retreat and find words that felt safe. But this wasn’t the time for safe.

“Namjoon,” you called, voice low but steady.

The door creaked open. He stepped out barefoot—damp still clinging to the hem of his jeans. He looked tired. Not physically, but emotionally. Like he’d been carrying something for a long time and finally had nowhere left to put it.

“I didn’t mean to disappear,” he said, voice raw with honesty. “I just... I didn’t know how to stay.”

You blinked, stunned into silence by how simple and devastating that sounded.

“You didn’t know how to stay,” you repeated, slowly. “But I did. I waited. I texted. I asked about you. I tried to keep something—anything.”

He winced. “I know.”

“And you ignored me,” you continued, a bite to your words now. “For three years. Like I didn’t matter. Like you could just cut me out clean and walk away.”

“I thought it would be easier,” he said quietly. “For you.”

You stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “For me? You thought silence was easier than honesty?”

Namjoon stepped forward, tentative but deliberate. “I thought telling you I was in love with you, and leaving anyway, would’ve hurt you more. And if i did anyway then what? You were dating Ri.”

The air thinned.

You froze, words caught somewhere between your chest and your throat because you knew he was right. You knew that, of course, he didn't know what to do. Of course, he panicked and left without a word. But you also knew that you’d have stuck around anyway if he was the one who got a girlfriend.

He ran a hand through his still-damp hair, exhaling like it was physically painful. “You were always the one thing that felt real. Everything else... The stupid parties Dan threw, His friends, the pressure—I could compartmentalize all of that. But not you. You scared the shit out of me.”

“I scared you?” you asked, incredulous.

He nodded. “Imagine searching your whole life for someone that never made excuses, who took what they want and after what– 23 years you find it– the real thing, not some trick. Not a facade… i panicked because i didnt know what to do with it. You made me want to stay. And I couldn’t. Not then.” 

The irony is that you're 24 now. You are standing in front of the first no-bullshit person you’ve ever met, but it doesn't scare you. What scares you is that he might get cold feet and leave again.

You didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at him while everything you’d carried—the loneliness, the anger, the what-ifs—pressed against the edges of your ribcage like a dam ready to crack.

“I didn’t want you to love me,” you said finally. “I just wanted you to choose me.”

Namjoon stepped closer. Close enough that you could see the guilt in the curve of his mouth, the sadness in the way his eyes flickered to yours and didn’t flinch away.

“I’m choosing you now,” he said. “If you’ll let me.”

Your breath hitched.

There it was—too late, too early, exactly on time.

And you had no idea what to do with it.

That’s when you began crying. Not hard, not ugly, not a sob—but a soft sniffle, an involuntary sound you tried and failed to stifle. It wasn’t a single, cinematic tear either. They came steadily, like something old and aching inside you had finally split open. Like every word you’d swallowed these past few years had liquefied into salt and memory.

“I miss you, Joonie,” you whispered, your voice trembling just enough to fracture the air between you.

Namjoon didn’t hesitate. He crossed the space between you in a heartbeat, arms wrapping around you with the kind of urgency that said me too, even before he spoke. You pressed your face to his chest, and he held you like he’d been waiting—starving—for this closeness just as long as you had.

You didn’t know how long you stood like that, the room humming with quiet and rain.

Then, gently, he tipped your chin up with one hand—thumb calloused, soft with care—and made you look at him. His other hand rose to your cheek, wiping away a tear with a touch so reverent it made your chest ache.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, voice low but sure, like he was swearing something into the marrow of you. “I mean, unless the plumbing explodes again or I catch on fire. Then I might leave. Briefly. But I’ll come right back.”

You let out a breathy laugh through your tears, the sound catching at the edges, tangled in disbelief.

“I’m serious,” he said, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth, though his eyes stayed soft. “I should’ve said it before. I should’ve said a lot of things. But let me start here: I never stopped thinking about you. Even when I was silent, even when I was stupid.”

You blinked, and another tear slipped down. He caught that one too.

“I missed you so much it made everything else feel... grey,” he whispered.

And then he leaned in, slow and deliberate, giving you every opportunity to pull away. You didn’t. You tilted your head instinctively, eyes fluttering closed, and felt the warmth of his lips brush yours—a kiss so soft it felt like a memory, or maybe a promise. It lingered just long enough to burn.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath mingling with yours in the quiet.

“You still smell like cinnamon tea and old books,” he murmured, teasing affection laced in his tone. “God, I missed that.”

You huffed a soft laugh through your nose and finally let yourself hold him back.

You didn’t move at first.

Just stood there, holding each other in the soft hum of your apartment, his forehead still pressed to yours, his breath still warm against your lips. It was quiet, but your heart was loud. Every inch of you trembled—not from uncertainty, but from the kind of tension that builds over years of silence, unresolved feelings, and the ache of missing someone you never stopped needing.

Your fingers found the hem of his sweatshirt. You didn’t ask. Just tugged. He raised his arms wordlessly, letting you peel it from his body. His skin was still damp from the storm, warm from the inside out, and his eyes searched yours like he needed permission one more time.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice low and rough.

You answered by taking a step closer and guiding his hand to the small of your back, your lips brushing against his again, this time with intent. No hesitation. You kissed him like he was yours. Like he had been yours—once. Like you could reclaim something lost in time.

Namjoon groaned softly, the sound vibrating through you as he deepened the kiss. His hands roamed your back, then your waist, pulling you flush against him. Every brush of his mouth, every soft sigh between kisses, made your skin feel tighter, needier.

He lifted you without effort, as if he already knew exactly where you wanted to be. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and he carried you through the narrow hallway, lips never parting from yours, only pausing to murmur your name like it was a prayer.

When your back hit the bed, his body followed, blanketing you with warmth and weight. His hands moved with reverence, memorizing the dip of your waist, the curve of your hips. You touched him like you were relearning him, like tracing a poem you hadn’t read in years but never forgot.

“God, I missed you,” he whispered against your collarbone, then again between kisses on your chest. “I thought about this so many times and it never... it never felt this real.”

You tugged at his belt and he laughed softly, breathlessly. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“I thought you wanted me to tell you how i feel.” He smirked playfully.

Clothes disappeared in pieces, dropped to the floor without ceremony. What mattered was the way he kissed you now—slow, like he didn’t want to rush a second of it. His mouth on your throat, his hands caressing your thighs, his words murmured between the soft rhythm of your breaths.

“You’re still the best thing I’ve ever stumbled into,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours again. “Even if it took me years to stop being an idiot,” he took the condom you handed him from your side table and rolled it on.

You smiled, eyes shining in the dark. “Less talking, more making up for lost time.”

His chuckle vibrated through his chest as he adjusted his hips, sliding inside you in one smooth motion. You both gasped—his name on your lips, yours on his. No frantic pace, just a slow, It was an aching rhythm that felt more like worship than sex. Each thrust of his hips was deliberate, his body moving in tune with yours, like he’d memorized you in a past life and was rediscovering every note. He didn’t rush, didn’t demand—he gave, patiently, attentively, reverently. Like this wasn’t just a moment, but a culmination. A return.

Namjoon moved like he was listening—to your body, to your breath, to everything you weren't saying aloud. His hand cradled the back of your thigh, guiding your leg to rest higher along his hip, opening you just slightly more to him. It sent a shiver down your spine, the way he adjusted you so gently, still keeping the rhythm steady and deep, like each movement was meant to say, I’m here. I never forgot.

Your legs wrapped loosely around his waist now, your heels pressing lightly into the curve of his lower back with each slow roll of his hips. It was instinctive, that grounding touch—holding him close, anchoring yourself to him like you were afraid this might vanish too.

Namjoon leaned down to press a trail of kisses along your throat, slow and lingering, his lips brushing over your pulse point, your collarbone, the edge of your jaw. Between each kiss, he whispered your name softly, or sighed, or let out a low, breathy moan that vibrated against your skin. It was messy in the most tender way—half-kisses against damp skin, shared gasps and stuttering breaths.

When he moaned again, it wasn’t loud. It was muffled and low, almost like he didn’t mean for it to slip out. It happened right after you clenched around him—a soft, involuntary reaction to how good he felt, how full, how there he was—and the sound made your head fall back against the pillow with a soft whimper of your own.

His pace picked up slightly then, still not frenzied, just purposeful. Like he’d found exactly what made you melt and was chasing it now, chasing you. He adjusted the angle of his hips just enough to pull another gasp from you, and when your nails dragged lightly down his back, he hissed, lips pausing against your neck.

“Shit,” he murmured, face contorting. “You feel so good—wet and warm.”

Your eyes met his in the dim light, and it was there again—the ache. The longing. The years of silence and missed connections that were now being rewritten by the way he held you, filled you, moved with you.

He brought a hand up to your cheek and brushed away a tear that had slipped free, even now. “Still with me?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, your hand finding the back of his neck. “Don’t stop,” you breathed.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

And he didn’t. He kept moving inside you, body pressed tight to yours, every inch of skin against skin, breath tangled, limbs intertwined. He thrust with more certainty now, each slow grind coaxing more soft moans from your lips, until the room was filled with the quiet, rhythmic sound of two people trying to make sense of years apart using only their bodies.

His fingers slipped down between you, his thumb finding your clit and pressing down then moving in time with the thrusts of his hips, your whole body arched up against him.

“Joon,” you cried out, more a gasp than a name, but he heard it. He swallowed it with a kiss as your body began to tighten beneath him, that pressure rising fast and deep.

“That's it, baby, you’re doing so good, so perfect. Cum for me.”

And you did.

You shattered beneath him with a soft cry, your body clenching tight around him, your hands gripping his arms like you were afraid to fall. But Namjoon was there—holding you, kissing you through it, whispering your name like a promise.

He followed right after, hips stuttering against yours, breath catching in your ear as he spilled inside you with a low, choked moan that you would carry with you forever.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

He stayed inside you, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavy, chests rising and falling in sync. His hands found yours and held them tightly, grounding you both in the moment—sweaty, tangled, bare, and finally not apart.

-

Tangled together, you rested on his chest. Blanket pooled at your hips and the rain still coming down hard outside but all od the sudden the lights cam back on and the two of you looked at each other and chuckled softly, “i guess the universe really was working for us.” You inhaled deeply as you curled further into his side. “Stay until your clothes is dry? I can get your apartment door open with my tool box.”

“You have a tool box?” He asked, probably surprised obviously because you’ve never been the type to get your hands dirty with grease and a wrench. “Every home should have a tool box, joon. I picked up a few things from–”

“Ri.. yeah lets maybe get used to never saying that name again.” He stretched before holding you tighter. “I’d love to never bring that douche up again.” You pressed kisses to his chest.

“Wanna go again?” You asked. “Yup.” He answered briefly before pulling you on top of him. 

“Might as well take advantage of being with you again right?” You smiled as you trailed your hands down his chest. 

“You’re greedy,” he bit his lip.

You grinned, settling over him like you belonged there—because, somehow, you always had. “And you like it.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands skating down your thighs. “Yeah. I really do.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of your breaths syncing, your bodies pressed close in the quiet glow of lamplight. Outside, the rain had finally stopped—leaving behind the kind of stillness that felt like a new beginning.

You looked down at him, brushing your thumb along his jaw..

“Namjoon?”

“Mm?” He looked up at you with glossy puppy eyes, the ones that you adored.

“You’re not leaving again, right?”

His expression softened completely. “No,” he whispered. “Not unless you tell me to.”

You didn’t.

And then you kissed him like that answer meant everything.

Because it did.

a/n i lowkey wanna make this into a longer series and really go into detail about everything lmk if you guys are into that idea

➽ Kpop Masterlist ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Yoongi Masterlist ➽ G Dragon Masterlist ➽ Buy Me a Coffee

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hi!! What do I do if I have an idea for a story but can't seem to develop it far enough? Or, I can't decide on how a certain event or setting should play out?

Writing Tips: Developing Story Ideas

Use a Plot Structure

Example: HOW TO TELL A STORY (Peter Rubie)

Once upon a time, something happened to someone,

and he decided that he would pursue a goal.

So he devised a plan of action,

and even though there were forces trying to stop him,

he moved forward because there was a lot at stake.

And just as things seemed as bad as they could get,

he learned an important lesson,

and when offered the prize he had sought so strenuously,

he had to decide whether or not to take it,

and in making that decision he satisfied a need

that had been created by something in his past.

When Writing a Plot Driven Story, Answer These Questions About Each of Your Main Characters:

What is the character’s back story?

What is the character’s personality?

How was the character’s personality shaped by his/her backstory?

How does each scene develop the character?

What is driving the character’s reaction within the scene (based on his/her back story)?

How does your character change within the course of the story?

What is the character’s internal conflict?

What is the character most afraid of?

How would he/she define happiness?

When Writing a Character Driven Story, Answer These Questions About Your Plot:

What does your character want to happen in each scene?

Is there tension or conflict within each scene?

What action does the character take within each scene?

How does this action move the story forward?

How does each scene contribute to the overall story?

What is the worst thing that can happen to your character(s)?

How does your character prevent it from happening?

What happens if your character cannot prevent it from happening?

What key events change the main characters in your story?

Brainstorm Ideas

Use flash cards. Think of a topic. Take ten blank flash cards and on one side of each flash card, write a line about this topic. Use a mixture of emotional detail, concrete detail, and images when writing these lines. Put all the cards face down in front of you. Turn five of these cards over, face-up. What kind of story is this? What questions remain? Experiment with which five cards should be turned up in order to create a story that is both mysterious and clear enough for the emotions to be anchored.

Eavesdrop. Carry your notebook with you as you go about your daily tasks and write down interesting things you overhear. At the end of the day, go over the snippets of conversation you wrote down and, rather than thinking about the content of the conversation, analyze how it was said. What have you learned about the way people speak? Incorporate this speech rhythm into a new story.

Analyze your every move. In the evening, write a list of 20 things you did that day. Use this form: “I washed the dishes, I ate an avocado, I read the newspaper,” and so on. The only rule is: don’t list the things in chronological order. Review your list of 20 activities and see if any of them spark the beginning of a story. Try to make use of one of these seemingly mundane activities to write a longer story.

Free write. Take your notebook and give yourself 10 minutes to simply write whatever comes to mind, not letting your pen or pencil leave the page, and not revising. After 10 minutes have passed, review what you wrote. How do the subject and tone change from the beginning to the end? Is there anything you might want to lift for a new story?

Explore Your Surroundings

Find inspiration in your environment and everyday activities:

Take a walk. Go on a walk and bring your notebook. Look around and write down observations on what you see: a tree, a person, a neighborhood. Try starting a story by using some of these descriptions.

Find an interesting object. Whether you’re in an office or a kitchen, a park or a library, choose an object you can see and describe it. Does it evoke personal memories? Does it have cultural implications, or elicit a certain emotion? Try starting a story with this object and its associations to guide you.

Play With Setting

Transport your story idea to different time periods and locales:

Write a few lines setting a scene that is easy to accept. Think about the example of snow on pine trees or a dog lying under a hammock. Establish a scene of your own. Then have your story take a twist. Take your reader and yourself somewhere very different—spatially or thematically—from your original scene.

Subvert the norms. Don’t censor yourself. Don’t feel that you have to be serious, or even sincere. You can be playful, even sarcastic in your stories. Think of a subject that may seem outside of today’s literary decorum and write a story about it.

Look Inward

You are the greatest muse for your own story. The following exercises require you to mine ideas from your personal life:

Does your personality make its way into your stories? Think of what kind of social person you are and consider the feedback you get from others about your personality—from family, friends, and others. Write a story that is spoken in your natural speaking voice. This story need not exhibit your best self. Try allowing the story to be controlled by a voice other than the one that shows you off. Write a story that lets the ruggedness of your life drive the voice.

Start a letter to someone you know, would like to know, or once knew. The rule is: assume that they won’t see it. Start this letter by addressing this person directly (think “Dear X”). After you’ve written a few lines or sentences, try to incorporate this as dialogue in your story.

Imitate Writers

Imitation is the best form of flattery. Look to writers you admire for inspiration in your own writing. The following writing exercises borrow concepts from other authors:

Mimic voice. Think of some of the writers or stories you admire. These could be books you’ve discovered in this course or longtime favorites. Pick one of these and read it over and over again, noting the methods the author uses to achieve his or her voice? Notice how the story develops stage by stage. How does it find its way through itself? See if you can write a story that follows a similar style of organization or path of development. This is more than an exercise; it’s a way of opening yourself to the influences of other authors.

Create tension. Use space to create suspense, putting the reader on the same level of knowing and not knowing as the speaker. Write a story that describes one large action and uses spacing as a way to force the reader to pause, creating tension and suspense as the action of your story progresses.

Use a Writing Template. Examples:

A 7-Part Book Development Template. Take your story from a vague book idea to an impactful first draft.

Plot Planning Worksheet. Acts 1-3.

The Story Circle by Dan Harmon. A basic narrative structure that writers can use to structure and test their story ideas.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Writing References on Plot ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hi, here are some tips and templates from previous posts, a few were modified to better answer your questions. Choose which ones you would like to try and see which works. You can find more tips in the sources. All the best with your writing!

[t-a-a-1]

If Only

Summary: You and Optimus cuddle and talk about the future.

TW: This turned out kinda sad? Bittersweet, sorry, I'll try to make more uplifting things in the future ... Suggestive nsfw, but not really.

1.5k words/ tfp Optimus x Reader

......

If Only

....

The two of you were tired.

After a long interfacing session, your warm body feels nice after his cold frame.

He can still hear his vents exhale loudly but slowly get regulated as he pulls you closer to him.

Optimus wraps the bedsheets around you. He doesn’t need them but knows better than to have direct contact with your sweaty body. Not because he didn’t want to, Primus himself knows that he enjoys nothing more than to touch your body. But last time he held your bare skin against his cold metal, you got sick, and that he couldn’t allow it again.

“You need to mass-displace back to your normal size.”

Your sweet voice took him out of his dreamy perfect fantasy into the tragic reality. 

There aren’t many things the Prime wishes he could do. One of them is to bring peace to his race, end the perpetual conflict between Autobots and Decepticons. 

And sometimes … he wishes he could be human if only to be able to bask in your softness forever. Without having the need to rely on a great amount of energon to mass displace and make love to you as many times as he wants.

Things would also be calmer. If he was human, he could give you a family, live on a farm and own all the animals he liked. Most importantly, he can grow old with you. He wouldn’t have to worry about the day you are no longer with him. About the day you —

“You’ll be out of energy soon.”

Optimus pulls you closer to him. His servos entangled with your hair. You can hear his spark pulsating faster than usual when it should be regulated by now. 

“Is there something wrong?”

He doesn’t know how to tell you that he needs to stay alive. He needs you to somehow outlive him. For you to allow him to be selfish just once and spare him the pain of losing you. 

“I just do not wish to part from you so soon,” he lies, not wanting to share his worryness with you. It was unnecessary to bother you with these thoughts. 

“We’ve been cuddling for 30 minutes,” you say, as you feel his dermas play with your hair. “And as much as I like having you close to me, I also need to shower and get ready to meet with Alex.”

His engines rev at the sound of his name. Optimus lets go of you and turns around, his back facing you. Sometimes you like to tease him just to see this side of the Prime. 

“Really, jealous? After all the things we just did?”

You place your chin around his neck, using one hand to play his helm, your fingertips caress every bump, scar and dent. You tried looking at his optics, but he avoided you. 

How couldn't he?

Alex had made his intentions clear from the beginning. He had romantic feelings for you and now because of work, you and him have to travel across the country. Alone. 

That’s the reason why tonight he had been specially ferocious, with the hopes that his scent will be imprinted on you, making it clear to him and any other male that you already belong to someone else. 

He trusts you. He genuinely does.  But he has seen and read too many romance novels to know how things were going to turn out.

Co-workers, getting closer because of work, both tired and turns out, there’s only one bed in the hotel. Forcing them to sleep together. The tension building up through the days, romantic dinners and walks by the beach until finally, the two will share a kiss. Soon after, love-making under the stars.

At the thought of you being intimate with Alex crosses his mind, now he is not only angry but sad.

He is never going to hold your hand and walk along the beach with you. 

Never. 

“I know you are not happy with the trip but you know I have to do it,” he feels you press your chest against his back frame. So soft and warm and as he thinks of you, the more he craves you. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Conjux me,” he simply says, gaining a heavy sigh from you. “That would be enough.”

“Optimus, we talked about this. If we do the Conjux Ritus, you won’t be able to fall in love with anyone after I am gone right? I don’t want you to be lonely for millions of years.”

“I will be alone after you are gone regardless,” he says coldly as you remind him of your imminent death. He still can’t understand how you can talk about it so calmly when he can only think of breaking down at the simple mention of it. “...Unless you don’t wish to.”

Deciding that you had enough of his sulking, you move from one place to the other, taking the bed sheets along with you. Forcing him to look at you, your afterglow is still very present. And suddenly, he yearns to have another long interfacing session with you. 

“You know I want to,” you put a hand on his faceplate and he looks away. The usual thing he does when he tries to avoid a topic. “But Optimus, you need to understand, I’ll get old and maybe at some point even forget about you. You’ll live for millions and millions of years and I don’t want you to be alone forever, I–”

He interrupts you.

“I love you.”

The silence in the bedroom was loud. But even more so, you could only hear your heart beating violently against your chest. Optimus spark, was, as always, screaming your name. His spark had long ago become yours and each passing day became more unbearable. His spark needs you to become his Conjux, there is no one for him but you. Only you. 

“If only I could live with you forever.”

You wrap your arms around him and he does the same. With such gentleness as though you might break, he won’t ever think of another being that’s not you. 

Your presence comforts him, even if it's just for a small moment. Do you know now why he longs for you at every moment of his life? Why does he want you by his side every second?

Not because he is some crazy possessive maniac but because every second that you don’t spend with him, it's another second he will regret not having with you. A regret he will have for the millions of years to come.

He places a single gentle kiss on top of your head.

“If only I were human.”

“If you were, we would have millions of sparklings by now,” you giggled a little and the thought made Optimus’ spark jump with excitement. “But I guess it wouldn’t be so bad leaving behind a part of me with you.” 

Something of you that could accompany him for eternity and live on after he has passed would be the only thing that can stop him from going into a depressive madness. 

Optimus had thought of the many things he would like to keep with him after your passing. Your hairbrush, a lipstick that you like to use to put smooches on his windows, a notebook, photos, clothes, perfume. He wanted to keep it all … until he realized that those things will corrode with the pass of time. And that the millions of years he has left to live, he will mourn each one of those items. In an endless cycle of grief. 

But if he were to have a sparkling, a living, sentient being that came from the love you two shared … He will be strong enough for them to handle all the pain in his spark, if only to see them smile. 

“If only.”

Optimus keeps wondering about the possibilities. About the future. If there is one.  

The two of you know that there are responsibilities that must be tended. But for now, in each other's arms, Optimus will hold you until his body pained him enough to force him to mass-displace back to his regular size. And even so, he doesn’t know if he is capable of letting go. 

The two of you stay in bed a little bit longer,

Both blissfully unaware of the life inside of you.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: I know many people have been wanting me to write nsfw, which I totally can. But if I am being honest, I am reserving that for my story 'the darkest hour' mostly because I am still learning how to write tf nsfw and because I don't really write p0rn. There is a difference between writing erotica and straight up corn (which is nothing bad, I enjoy reading it and may even write some in the future but right now its not what I plan to do for future fics)

I just really love, love, pure genuine, gentle and that's the kind of things I want to write ... for now.

In the darkest hour, optimus won't be saying I love you to the reader so I thought, as a treat, you all can have this semi-suggestive/romantic/ sad drable.

Thank you for reading and until next time!

@alois-the-genderless Thank you for the ask! It made me happy writing about it. Sorry if its kinda sad but I'll try to make things happier in future request <3

[revelboo]

begging on my hands and knees for more skyfire please man i’d give my left foot for more of him

That bargain is acceptable

Floating Down The River Pt 6

Skyfire x Reader

• Startling as something brushes the top of your head, you realize that somehow you’d fallen asleep in his arms. And that he’s out, too. Venting softly as his head bobs, surprising you that big, alien robots sleep. At least, he seems to be sleeping. You still can’t get over him, that he’s real or that he’s trying in his awkward way to take care of you. Against you, he makes a deep rumbling noise that thrums through you and his arm tightens slightly around your middle. Is he by himself out here? That must be lonely.

• Venting softly as he drifts in and out of recharge, he can feel you playing with his hands again, apparently unbothered that one of his palms can easily span your middle. That even mass shifted, he could pick you up one handed. Your hair feels softer against his chin than it had soaking wet and hard with cold, every intake scenting of you, unfamiliar and organic but not unpleasant. And you shift in his lap with a soft sound, relaxing against him. Alien, but it’s nice to have someone in his arms. To hold someone. Craves that contact so bad it hurts. “Did I wake you?”

• His deep rumbling voice makes you flinch guiltily where you’d been playing with his big servos. Amazed how gentle those big hands are. And you’re pretty sure that you woke him pawing at him, but you hadn’t been able to resist touching him, fascinated with him. “Can I come back to see you?” Voice hesitant, half afraid he’s going to disappear now that you know where he is. Hadn’t he chased you because he was scared of you telling other people, the military, where he was? “I won’t tell anyone about you,” you promise even though you doubt you’d believe you if your roles were reversed.

• Turning over his hand to press his palm against yours, his spark aches. Knows he’d be risking not only himself, but every Cybertronian on Earth if you’re lying. If you bring your people down on his head. But he wants to believe you. Doesn’t want to be so alone and can’t go to either faction without getting dragged back into the conflict. Why can’t they just let him live? “I’d like that. If you came to see me again,” he whispers, hoping he can trust you. That those pretty eyes aren’t scheming.

• Warming you try to interlace your fingers with his, but can’t quite make it work with how much bigger his hand is. “I will then.” Know you need to go, that you’ve already been missing too long and people might be starting to worry, but you want just a few more hours with your gentle giant. No worries or stress, just curled in his lap listening to the thrum of his internal systems. “I promise.”

Previous

[walble]

How They View You?

I have an Instagram now!

This is meant to be a fun, general reading, so it may not resonate with everyone. Take what resonates for you and leave the rest behind! Please take a moment to breathe, focus on your intuition, and choose the photo that calls to you. Each holds a unique message for you!

𐙚 • 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 1

It seems that Pile 1 is perceived as someone who struggles with planning and decision-making, often feeling stuck or hesitant about their next steps. There may be a tendency to second-guess choices or fear taking risks, leading to missed opportunities. While creativity and emotional depth are present, there’s a sense of uncertainty about how to express these qualities or put them into action. This could stem from self-doubt or external influences that create confusion.

Despite these challenges, there is a strong spark of passion and enthusiasm. There’s an eagerness to chase after what excites and inspires, but this energy might sometimes be impulsive or short-lived. This individual may have a bold, adventurous spirit yet struggle with emotional consistency, making it difficult to fully commit to their ambitions or relationships. There is a desire for new beginnings and fresh experiences, but perhaps without a clear strategy on how to sustain them.

Intellectually, there may be a disconnect between logic and emotions, leading to clouded judgment or difficulty communicating thoughts effectively. There’s a risk of being overly defensive or reactive rather than thoughtful and measured in responses. However, creativity and inspiration are strong, making this person someone who can bring exciting ideas to life when they overcome inner doubts. They may benefit from focusing on balance—between passion and patience, action and reflection—so that their energy can be channeled more effectively.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

𐙚 • 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 2

Pile 2 is perceived as someone who embraces new beginnings with a sense of optimism and adventure. There’s a free-spirited energy that suggests a willingness to take risks and explore different possibilities without being overly burdened by fear. This person may come across as open-minded and eager to experience life as it comes, trusting that things will fall into place. However, this approach may sometimes lack stability or long-term planning, making it difficult to fully ground their aspirations.

Despite this adventurous nature, there is a strong sense of balance and patience. This individual seems to have a natural ability to navigate different situations with grace, knowing when to push forward and when to hold back. They are passionate and driven, yet they strive to maintain harmony in their life rather than letting impulsivity take over. Their communication style is sharp and direct, with a strong sense of intellect that allows them to see things clearly and make rational decisions when needed.

However, there may be some struggles with control and external challenges that create obstacles. Opportunities might slip away due to a lack of proper structure or a struggle with authority, either in themselves or in their environment. There could be conflicts or competition surrounding them, requiring a firm stance to navigate. While they have the potential for success, they may need to work on establishing a stronger foundation and learning when to assert themselves in a way that leads to long-term growth rather than temporary victories.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

𐙚 • 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 3

Pile 3 is perceived as someone who has endured a great deal but may struggle with resilience at times. There is a sense of weariness, as if they have fought many battles and now find it difficult to keep pushing forward. While they have reached significant milestones, they may still carry doubts about their ability to sustain their success. This can create a tendency to lower their defenses when they should remain steadfast, making them vulnerable to setbacks.

Despite these challenges, they have achieved a strong sense of completion and mastery in certain areas of their life. There is a feeling of accomplishment, as if they have reached an important turning point. They carry a structured and disciplined energy, suggesting that they take responsibility seriously and prefer to have control over their circumstances. However, they may also find themselves in situations where they must assert their authority and stand firm against external opposition or competition.

Opportunities for growth and success are present, indicating that they have the potential to build something valuable. They are driven and ambitious, with a fiery energy that pushes them to take action. However, the presence of ongoing struggles suggests they must learn how to manage conflicts and challenges without allowing them to drain their energy. If they can maintain their determination while reinforcing their boundaries, they have the ability to turn their passion into something lasting and rewarding.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

If you're looking for a personalized reading tailored specifically to your energy, feel free to message me to book a session or visit my Ko-fi page to schedule one here: KO-FI

[sakuraszn]

MY HERO ACADEMIA

- katsuki bakugo !

my girl.

jock!bakugo headcanons.

confession.

he finally confesses his feelings for you.

a spark in the ashes.

ex-villian reader tries to fit in and he knows what it’s like to be treated like a ticking bomb.

upset bakugo

you love when he gets upset.

I’ll always love you the same.

you just had a baby, but you struggle to love your new body image.

protective dad.

helping defend his kid on Roblox.

party’s over, dumbass.

him dragging you out of a party cause your too drunk.

kiss n’ makeup

you and bakugo got into a fight last night and he’s not leaving the next day without his kiss

a boxers struggles

Bakugo is fiercely dedicated to becoming Japan's number one boxer, but he faces inner conflict when he starts developing feelings for someone. His fear of distraction threatens his rise to the top, creating tension between his personal life and his aspirations. As their relationship deepens, he learns to balance his love for her with his desire to succeed in boxing.

how he kisses you

just as the titles states.

losing you

losing you in a fight.

helpful dad

mha characters reacting to their child clinging more to them than to reader, which makes reader upset.

loves last flight

once an angel of love, he was punished for meddling too deeply in human affairs. Stripped of most of his power, he has one final chance to make things right. With only a bouquet of enchanted roses, he must deliver a message of love to a soul who has lost all hope, before his wings disappear forever.

the jealous hero

he gets increasingly agitated when fans and other heroes flirt with his assistant during this annual hero party. His possessiveness eventually boils over, forcing him to confront his feelings.

cuddles

reacting to when you wanna cuddle.

- eijiro kirishima !

it’s time to go (coming soon)

him dragging you out of a party and putting you in your place.

spin around 15 times and kiss.

doing a TikTok with him.

how he kisses you

just as the title states.

helpful dad

mha characters reacting to their child clinging more to them than to reader, which makes reader upset.

cuddles

reacting to when you wanna cuddle.

- izuku midoriya !

eye see you.

he loves looking at you.

shy teacher ‘zuku

he has the fattest crush on u.

spin around 15 times and kiss

doing a TikTok with him.

back muscles

you admiring his back muscles

helpful dad

mha characters reacting to their child clinging more to them than to reader, which makes reader upset.

echoes of what could be

Izuku quietly harbors feelings for someone he knows he can never have. He watches from the sidelines, silently suffering as his heart breaks piece by piece, helplessly observing his friend fall for someone else.

cuddles

reacting to when you wanna cuddle.

- shoto todoroki !

all I need is you (coming soon)

him giving you reassurance after his role in a movie with camie.

helpful dad

mha characters reacting to their child clinging more to them than to reader, which makes reader upset.

cuddles

reacting to when you wanna cuddle.

- denki kaminari !

spin around 15 times and kiss.

doing a TikTok with him.

cuddles

reacting to when you wanna cuddle.

how he kisses you.

just as the title states.

- keigo takami [hawks] !

helpful dad

mha characters reacting to their child clinging more to them than to reader, which makes reader upset.