#i spent my time trying to describe the best-fitting word for it... i love it...

[modmaenad]

Curious about this hot guy you're thirsting after. Can you describe him physically and personality wise? Are you sure he's good for you

I'll do my best to be as objective as possible, but don't blame me if my obvious infatuation bleeds through the descriptions, lol.

Physically, he's very attractive, even if not stereotypically so. His features are prominent, without losing their softness, and the most noticeable part of his face is his nose, which is aquiline, further highlighted by his high cheekbones. His lips are full, though rather round, – something that once led me to drunkenly say he looked "just like those sexy Antinous marble busts." DEEPLY embarrassing... thank God he didn't remember anything the following day. Besides that big nose, I think that what I like best about him are his droopy, hazel, hooded eyes, always either kind or playful, very boyish overall. He is an athlete, so he's lean, particularly his arms. Oh, and his hair is blonde and shaggy, but he used to wear it long.

Maybe I'm understating his attractiveness, or maybe I'm overstating it... whether he sounds cute or not to others, he is still insanely charismatic. As Joan Baez would say, whenever he is around, he takes up all the oxygen in the room. Like him or not, you are never truly able to ignore him. Either way, he's very thoughtful, and the smartest person I know, which is a very difficult title to obtain, given my judgemental attitude, my general contempt for men, and my superiority complex with regards to intellect. On top of that, as I said about his eyes, he is very kind and caring, specially when it comes to those little details others do not pay attention to. He is also very funny, and friendly; you know, the whole package.

But it's more difficult to say if he would be good for me when it comes to a relationship, because the only two "flaws" I've found in him would create certain tension. To sum it up, I do not belong where he does, and, most importantly, he also has his own problems that can sometimes make him too reserved. Or at least they did, back then. The last time we had something, I was the one in the wrong, and, though I cannot blame myself over and over for it (after all, I was going to a lot of things I still wasn't mature enough to process properly), I understand why he took a step back and left. I genuinely think it was for the best. It wasn't the right time, and I'm still unsure if today it is. For now, I'll let it be just like it is, and see what happens :P

[slasherscream]

Can you do some more until dawn characters (yandere please) like you’re trying on clothes at the mall and ask their opinion?

YANDERE UNTIL DAWN CHARACTERS + READER IS TRYING ON CLOTHES

A/N: thank you for reading my until dawn content! it's such a small fandom these days, comments/reblogs/anon reviews/asks are appreciated as they let me know people are still reading these. 

- Josh has an excellent eye for aesthetics. He may not know all the words/names for the types of clothes you look good in but he recognizes them right away. He’ll try and describe something you should get, give up, wander off, then come back with examples of what he meant while you’re in the dressing room. If the shopping trip is under four hours he can remain locked in the entire time. This is the strength of will and character that comes with being the big brother to two little sisters who got his driving license first. He’s spent entire lifetimes at the mall hyping up the twins. He knows what to do. Overall helpfulness: 8/10.

- Sam loves spending quality time with you. Quality time is one of her preferred love languages, in fact. She picks you up for your shopping day with your favorite coffee shop order in hand, from the best place in town. She’s good with little details like that. You can always count on her to give you her honest opinion on what you pick out. She’s gentle about it, but she’ll never let you wear something she thinks is unflattering. She’s also mindful of waste consumption. With Sam’s help you wind up picking things you love, are comfortable wearing, and that you’ll actually use. Not a penny wasted, no matter how much you spend. Overall helpfulness: 10/10. 

- Chris could not possibly, in any version of reality, fix his mouth to give you a criticism about any of your choices. Let alone choices about how you will go about decorating your body. He’s lucky he gets to look at you. It’s an honor! Thank you for honoring him! Every time you step out of the dressing room you will get the exact same answer, very enthusiastically, in the same tone: “That looks GREAT, babe!” You’ll be ready to kill him thirty minutes in. Absolutely worthless feedback. You’ll have to get help from the salespeople who work there for opinions. If you want a ‘yes man’ this is your guy! Overall helpfulness: 3/10. 

Hannah is another sap. She’s more helpful than Chris, but only by the slightest margin. If something doesn’t look good she’ll be able to stutter her way around to it…. eventually. She’s nearly petrified at the thought of upsetting you. Never-mind the fact that you’ve asked her how the top looks on you five times now. “Well…. I mean… how do YOU think it looks, Y/N?” As if you’d be asking if you could come up with an opinion yourself. You’ll wind up leaving with only a few items. You’ll have to come back with a friend in a few days. You may need a new wardrobe, but if you need help picking it out, you’ll need a different set of eyes. Overall helpfulness: 4/10.

- Emily is going to be honest to the point that, yes, it will hurt your feelings a little… if you’re lucky. Mileage may vary. If you’re particularly sensitive she’ll hurt your feelings a lot. But god forbid you start trying to take someone nicer shopping with you. She’ll throw the hissy fit of the century when she finds out. Yes, when, and not if. Emily manages to find out everything you try to keep from her. Everything. On one hand you’ll wind up looking the best you’ve ever looked. Your entire wardrobe suits you perfectly. She even buys/picks out things that you’ll like, in your style, even if she finds the style personally distasteful. That’s how much she loves you. It just has to suit you, or else she will say something, and the way she says it is never very nice. You’ll look incredible, but at what cost to your mental health? Overall helpfulness: 8/10. 

- Mike isn't very enthusiastic about the activity, but likes the good boyfriend points it garners him. Thus, he will come along whenever you bid him to do so. He’s only got about two and a half hours of shopping in him though, so try and have an idea of what you want to get in your mind. Before you arrive at the stores, please. If you take a long lunch break he can go back for another two hours but this is his hard limit. Knows well enough what you already look good in. Or when something looks downright awful on you. He does struggle a little to help if you’re wanting to try a completely new style. He’s as lost as you. The more underground/alternative/particular the style you want to try is, the worse the advice gets. If you’re just doing a wardrobe refresher this is your man. Overall helpfulness: 6/10. 

- Beth makes shopping relaxing. You’ll stay as long as you need in order to get everything you need. She probably had you make a Pinterest board before you guys went out so that you’d be able to refer back to it. She knows getting into the stores can wipe your mind clean of what you needed/wanted to get. She’ll have you guys stop for lunch as well, but then you’re right back at it! She likes seeing your style evolve and change. Her feedback is honest, but gentle. It won’t ever feel like a criticism of your body, just the clothing. You walk out satisfied and always happier than when you came in together. Overall helpfulness: 10/10. 

- Jessica is in her element here. Honestly, Jessica drags you shopping with her more than you’ll ever drag her shopping. Spending time together means a lot to Jessica. She never takes it for granted. Thus, she always tries to make any activity, but especially repeat ones like shopping, fun. She probably has a shopping playlist she made for the two of you. You both wear one wireless earbud and get to movie montage with each other. Watch out if the Princess Diaries songs or something Hip-hop comes on, she’ll start dancing to make you laugh. Her feedback is upbeat and positive, but honest. She hypes you up like crazy when you come out wearing something that makes you look really hot! Wolf whistles and everything, your face will be burning up as you flee back into the safety of the dressing room. “Baby, come back! You look smoking!” Overall helpfulness: 9/10. 

- Matt knows absolutely nothing about fashion. He tries his very best to help, but he’s at a loss. Only if something very obviously doesn’t suit you will he be able to veto it for you. “I dunno… maybe it’s a little awkward in the arms or…. something?” You’ll have to take a few breaths. However, if something looks good, he can absolutely be a hype man! His eyes light up, he takes your hand, makes you do a spin. All the attention is enough to make you kick your feet and giggle. He can compliment you all day long. To his credit, he can compliment you specifically enough on what looks good. Even if it’s still a little vague. “The color of this makes you look really… wow! You know?” You’ll be able to figure out he means jewel tones make your skin look glowy one of these days. For now, at least you know your boyfriend thinks you’re gorgeous no matter what you wear. Overall helpfulness: 5/10.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

A/N: I have a couple of requests in my inbox that revolve around the idea of Fuegoleon having a really beautiful wife, for whom he falls madly in love with at first sight. So... I decided to do a little something something~

Hope y'all like it! ^^

Summary: Fuegoleon didn't plan on falling in love unexpectedly, because who really *can* plan for the unexpected. But... he doesn't regret a single day spent with a beauty, such as yourself

Genre: Romance, fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Word count: ~0.9k Contains: just fluff and adoration and him being very smitten

The things was that… Fuegoleon pride himself as a man of rationality. Someone who, if eventually he would do so, would fall in love gradually. It’d be orderly, and logical. Something he could see from the distance.

He thought that falling in love, would taste more like a choice; a decision.

But the fates decided against it. Instead, they served you, wrapped in a smile and kind eyes.

He couldn’t look away. He couldn’t deny the longing. Even if he tried. And oh how he did try.

Because it wasn’t sensible. It wasn’t planned or rational. It wasn’t expected.

While, sure, he could see that you were a beauty. He could hear the remarks and comments of adoration, even if only implied. The sentiments and wishes and wonderings that were shared only in whispers. The ‘if only she was mine…’

All of that he could hear and see, and he knew it to be logical. After all, you were beautiful. It was clear as day. A fact, uncontested, and known by all who laid their eyes upon you.

But… feeling the pull. The swaying of his heart. The way it rattled his ribcage from the inside and tried to break free, confess its undying love and affection to you; all of that he couldn’t reason or rationalize. The feeling that seemed more consuming than his flames that could burn and engulf. His very soul that was composed of fire and passion.

All of that came second to how he felt about you. How he longed for you, despite never having known your touch.

The sheer idea of feeling your soft skin on his cheek; your palm placed onto the side of his face so that he might close his eyes and sink into the sensation… The sound of your voice; speaking out an utterance, soft like silk and tantalizing and decadent like salty caramel… And the softness of your very soul; wrapped around his… Oh how he wished it could wrap around his. Even if only to embrace for a tiny moment. A fraction of a second… one fifth of an eternity.

Fuegoleon Vermillion, was a man of reason.

But when you came around, reason was left in second place with his emotions.

Especially when those tender gazes he imagined, became a reality. When the sound of your hushed whispers, flowed to his ears. And when the taste of your lips… became imprinted onto his…

The sacred taste he couldn’t describe, even if given an eternity and a day.

But it was a taste he didn’t want to go without. The idea of not having your mouth dance over his. Your arms wrap around him, and the sound of your laugh… play the sweet melody to him that

Though, the best of all, was the way your soul fit so well next to his. The kindness, compassion, strength and regality, while being different from his they just… fit. All of it. All of you.

It was like a missing piece he didn’t know he needed.

He might have wished for it, but he didn’t know he needed it. Not until he met you.

He didn’t know how he needed to place his hands onto the sides of your face, and tilt your chin up, just so that he might place his lips against yours and drink your love and affection, as if from a sacred chalice. How he needed to know that you were sleeping next to him, safe and sound. That your smile and laugh were still there. In the next room, the same city, the same world… somewhere, even if you were apart for a time that always seemed far too long.

Even if he loved coming back to you. Returning to you. Perhaps just so that he could lift you up and spin you around, to hear the sweet melody of your joy and relief, knowing that he had returned back to you. To feel your embrace squeeze him just that much harder.

And… he would have been lying if he said that he wouldn’t have felt a trickle of pride, when he saw the envious gazes of other around. That he wouldn’t have, even if only a little, drank up the knowledge that out of everyone, you had chosen him.

They might have been envious, but he was… well, he wasn’t a jealous man. But he was territorial. And since jealousy aligns with territoriality, he supposed that… perhaps… it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to be. Especially since he noticed himself to be holding his head a little higher when you walked with him down the street, or simply stood by him during an event.

A true, genuine beauty. Heart and soul that matched the exterior.

He considered himself the luckiest man on earth, and he didn’t miss a day to remind you of it. Show you it. Just how utterly, soul-consumingly in love he was. Because you deserved to know. While, much to his dismay, he was a mere mortal man, and the tools that were at his disposal to show you it, tell you it, were far too limited to his liking.

Even the words “I love you, my heart, my soul, my beloved, one and only” weren’t enough. So… he’d have to try to prove himself day after day, after day.

Which… he wouldn’t mind

[caxde]

dark honey | steve harrington x reader

part1 | part 2

summary you're Dustin's older sister, working on the new café next to Family Video and being best friends with Steve is your day to day, until feelings start to blossom one late night. (4.6k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! this is a part 2, you can read part 1 here, but it can be read independently

-

“Hey” 

“Hi” 

He'd woken up first. He'd been waiting for you to wake up, still not believing what happened last night. He had spent his time looking at you, and how you’ve curled up into his chest as you slept, your hand buried itself in between his shirt and waist. He was just still, playing with your hair, waiting for you, and wondering what to do once your eyes opened. 

The memories of the night before came to you backwards. 

First you remember falling asleep with him, your bodies tangled with one another. You remember telling him that you wanted to kiss him, and how he told you that he would if you asked him again tomorrow. You see him cooking for you, you see him outside The Hideout, him, his dark honey eyes and his dumb smile. 

He can’t keep his hands away from you for too long, the back of his fingers caressing the apples of your cheek. 

“How’d you sleep?” He asks, husky notes on his voice, his first words of the day dedicated to you. 

“Good.” You smile, a truthful one. It only gets deeper once your eyes look at his messed up hair, falling everywhere. Your hand reaches up to it, messing it a little more. “Bed hair” You whisper. 

“You’re one to talk.” He teases back with a chuckle as he imitates your gesture, fingers lost in your tangles. 

You do nothing but admire each other for a moment. A peaceful, sweet moment you share. Comfortable silence with the sun hitting your face. 

“Hungover?” 

“A bit.” You whisper, your hands screeching your eyes, trying to see if it is really happening, since your heart can’t believe it yet. 

“We should get you some breakfast. Greasy dinner type.” He lets out, soft-spoken. You know he’s flirting with you. And he knows it’s working. 

But it dawns on you, like a cold shower, standing up a little too quick. 

“Shit! Dustin!” 

-

You rush across your front door. 

You don’t even care that your hair is falling all over the place, tangled and messy. That your clothes are the same as the night before (with the addition of his sweatshirt over you), or that you can tell your eyebags are a darker colour than they were yesterday. 

You’re praying to whatever rules over you that Dustin is still asleep, but as luck would have it, he was laying on the sofa, looking at you with his eyes wide open, and his eyebrows raised at the sight of you. Perplexed seems like a good word to describe him. You can tell that he’s analyzing you, as if you were a new enigma. 

“You’re wearing yesterday’s clothes.” He points outs, his voice high. 

“Yes, I am.” You scoff, trying to avoid his spirilling. 

“That’s not your sweatshirt.” His index finger fixated onto the borrowed clothing you were wearing. 

“No, it’s not.” 

“It doesn’t fit you.” You swear you can see the way the lightbulb lights up on his brain. “It’s a boy’s!” He exclaims, his mouth opened, and a small grin on his face. 

“It is.” You scoff, as you roll your eyes, knowing that the river of questions was only starting, and so was your headache. 

“Oh… My… God…” He trails after you, heading into the kitchen. Following you close, almost biting your ankles as you walk. 

You glare at him, with your mouth full of water. Knowing that he wants an answer that you won’t give him, you let him wait as you slowly sip down the glass. 

“What?” Your voice is slower than usual. 

“What do you mean, what?” His is sped up. 

“I mean, what?” As soon as you hear him scoff, you can’t help but laugh at him. 

“Shit” You knew his wheels were turning, just as well as you knew he would get it wrong. “You went out with Eddie!”

“I didn’t” You tell him as you shake your head no, searching for the painkillers you were starting to need. 

“You left your car here.” He points out, thinking that he had caught you in a lie. 

“Yes, and I didn’t go to Edd’s.” You tell him, your eyes telling him that that’s the last thing he would get out of you. 

“Oh, come on. That’s not fair.” He whines, following you upstairs. He flops down into your mattress as you open the door of your room. 

“It’s more than you need to know, okay? I need to draw the line somewhere, and telling my little brother the details of my romantic life-” 

“Romantic life?!” He cuts you off, exclaiming in shock as he propels his body up, his back now standing up, his eyes searching for you as you move around your room. 

You blush, not really being able to hide it. You take off Steve’s sweater, leaving it neatly folded, resting peacefully on your desk. You let yourself linger for a second longer, touching it softly, remembering the magic that you seemed to be under last night. 

You keep quiet, searching for one of your old sweaters, one that doesn’t smell like him, one that’s light enough so it won’t weigh you down once the sun shines again. 

“Mom has a romantic life, you’ve got a romantic life, I can have one as well.” You try to remain calm, as you pace through your room. Finally stopping to look down at him, your arms crossed in front of your chest. 

“Stop talking about mom and her boyfriend!” He pleaded with a groan, hiding his eyes behind the palm of his hands. 

“So dramatic!” You laugh at him, throwing a pillow at him. 

He laughed with you, letting it go finally, and walking down the stairs with you, just as Steve was opening your front door. 

“Oh, hey.” He said, his voice softer once he saw Dustin trailing behind you. 

“Hi.” You replay, your eyes softening as you make contact with him. 

“Hi Steve.” Dustin chirped. “What are you doing here?” He followed, oblivious to the way he looked at you, and how it was different from the night before. 

“I uh…-”

“We’re going to get breakfast.” You cut him off, knowing that he sucked at lying. He nodded, thankful for your intervention. “Benny’s, right?” 

“Uh, yeah.” He let out, with a short breath. “Wanna come?” 

“Yeah, Max, Mike and Lucas are going there now. They called me before you got here.” Dustin explains to you, looking up at you. Knowing that if his friends helped him interrogate you, he might get a different answer. 

“Great.” You grunt sarcastically at him. Eyeing Steve as you continue. “Guess we’re babysitting.” 

-

You had half hoped for it to be calm. But of course you were wrong. 

It was a Saturday, it was ten in the morning, and it was busy on the dinner. Loud noises that came from the kitchen, and greasy food smell filled the entirety of it. In other circumstances you would have claimed that this might be a perfect way to start your weekend, you and Steve paired up in a booth eating slowly as you talked, or started dumbly at each other. But in that fantasy, you weren’t joined by a group of overactive kids eating their weight in sugary breakfast. 

However there was a short silver lightning, Steve had managed to sit by your side, and when no one was looking at the two of you, his arm would slowly push into yours. A soft gesture, a i haven’t forgotten kind of touch. You smile to yourself every time you notice him doing that, you’d bite your lower lip, or the inside of your cheek. Occasionally, you’d reciprocate the gesture, your leg pushing into his. And you did notice how his cheeks would grow warmer every time he felt you doing that. 

You weren’t the only one, Max seemed to catch onto it, and thankfully, she kept it to herself. 

The kids were all babbling away, talking about some nonsense that you didn’t pay attention to, all of your attention was set on only two things. The coffee in front of you with the maple pancakes, and the boy next to you. Who himself could only really pay attention to you. 

“You’re working today?” He asked, whispering in your ear, a bit to close if you were honest. 

You nodded at him, taking another bite, and feeling how the hangover banished as you ate. 

“You?” You muttered, covering your mouth as you finished chewing the food. 

“Yeah, clocking in at four.” He lets you know. His voice is softer when he talks to you, you realise. He speaks slower, kinder. It also happens with his eyes, his eyelids relax, and he drops the tension, letting himself be relaxed when he talks to you. 

“Mmh.” You turn to him, the electricity coming back once your eyes connect. “Wanna carpool?” 

“Movie night later?” He adds, nodding as he does. You fixate on his hair, and the way that it bounces everywhere. 

“Yeah.” 

You both smile at each other. You try to stay on this moment, just the two of you in a little bubble, nothing else going on. But, alas, you feel Dustin’s stare on you. Well, not only his. Everyone seemed to be staring at you. 

“What?” Steve asked, as he turned away from you, his voice dropping in tone. 

“Uh, nothing.” Lucas mutters, elongating the i. nothiiiiiing. 

You raise your eyebrow at them, trying to play it off as if nothing had changed. Because, nothing had changed. The promise that was made last night, was still just that, words, but damn, you were hungry for his lips. 

“So you’re not coming home tonight either?” Dustin points outs, and he can feel you killing with your stare. 

“What do you mean, either?” Max asked, her head moving between the both of you. 

“Dustin…” You warned him, threatening him with your fork. 

“You didn’t go home yesterday?” Steve played dumb, he raised his eyebrows at you. You knew that in reality, he was teasing you. Made only evident by him pushing his leg against yours. You squinted your eyes at him, begging for him to shut up. 

“Shut up, or no movie night.” 

-

As soon as Steve opens the door, walking into Family Video, Robin knows something’s changed. 

He’s her best friend, and she knows him better than anyone. So she notices. The little smile that only a fool falling in love has, the sparkle in his eyes shining even with the lights turned off. She notices the way he glances at the clock, longing for something. 

All she can do is smile at herself, hopeful that he has finally found someone worth having. 

It’s not until she has her break and comes over for a quick to-go cup that she connects the dots. 

She is one of your closest friends, and she knows you well enough to notice it too. 

Robin sees the way you’re smiling into nothingness, the way your eyes flicker for a second when you hear the bell over the door, and how hopeful you look that someone will come in, and how your face turns to the clock when you don’t see who you long for walking in. 

In that moment, she knows that whatever happened last night, only made you too finally realise what she has known all along, that you two are made for each other. 

However, she doesn’t say anything. She just smiles to herself, and waits patiently for tonight's movie night. 

But it becomes more obvious, when she sees you two together. 

Steve is eager to close, and for once he does most of the work, he almost trips over when he steps foot on the street, too excited to watch what he’s doing. You seem to stumble as you close the door of the café, your hand almost getting trapped between the metal railing and the ground. But you don’t mind, your whole body relaxes as soon as you make eye contact with him. And he seems to stop, his heart skipping a beat once he sees you, your hair falling in all the right places as you turn to him, he can’t help but smile deeply. 

Robin is sure now, once he sees the way you’re looking at each other, that you’re both falling for one another. 

-

You had had countless movie nights together. Robin usually laid half in the floor, her head resting on the end of the couch where you and Steve were always cuddled up. 

But tonight, your head rested on his shoulder, and Robin sat down on the loveseat, glaring at the two of you, with a knowing smile on her face. 

Steve noticed her stare. When he looked over at her, he nodded, and she failed to hide an excited squeak, as soon as she realised that she was right.  

The movie was starting, and Steve was sure you were going to love that one. As soon as it came into his hands, he had wanted to see you watching it. Maybe it’s because he knows that you’re a sucker for a fantasy movie, or maybe it’s because he’s aware of your obsession with Bowie, and lucky for you, Labyrinth combined the two perfectly. 

So while you were busy, your eyes glued to the screen, he watched you closely. One of his hands rested on the small space that formed between your neck and your shoulder, his hands gracing your skin, caressing you, making your whole body tingle with goosebumps every time his nails dig into your skin. And every time that happened, your hands would squeeze his upper thigh. 

Hidden under the blanket, your hands rested on his body. When he grabbed you, your hands responded, needing him closer. Wanting to ask him to kiss you right here and there, but being unable to do so, while Robin was still in the room. You could only do one thing, enjoy the movie and wait for time to pass. Enjoying him, in this way, so close that you could drink up his cologne. A strong smell of aftershave, vanilla and lavender invaded you, making you dizzy with the closeness. 

Then, the door rang and the smell of pizza was present. Steve stopped the tape, and you jumped to the door, trying once again to beat him to it, so you could pay for it. You liked it, it was the way you felt like you could tell him that you cared. You realise in that moment that maybe that’s why you never let him pay for his coffee. 

Regardless, Steve was lost in you, and his eyes didn’t leave your body as you walked away. He didn’t realise he was so lost into you until he heard the soft chuckle that escaped Robin’s lips. His head turned to face her, and he found her with a big smile and her eyebrows raised. 

“When did that happen?” She whispered, worried that you would hear her. 

“Oh, um…” He was shy now, his cheeks glowed pink, and he was unsure on what he could say, or what to say to that matter. “Well I um, we were walking back to the cars, and um, she almost fell, but then I uh, I catched her.” He begins to tell her, his eyes brighter than before, his smile only growing deeper at the memory of you, that close to him on that cold april night. “And I… I don’t really know why, but something kind of changed. And uh… Yesterday she fell asleep here, and she said she wanted to kiss me.”

“Did you?” Her voice spikes up, as her eyebrows raise, excited for him, for you. He can’t help but chuckle, as he avoids her stare, looking at the way you pay the pizza delivery boy, with your usual calm demeanor that he loves. 

“She was drunk.” Steve begins to explain, he was playing anxiously with the blanket that you left next to him. Robin nodded, knowing why he didn’t do it. 

“But you wanted to?” 

“Of course, but… I wouldn’t-”

“Yeah, I know.” She cuts him off, a knowing look between both of them. “For the record, I still think she wants to kiss you.” Robin teases Steve, making him laugh as you come back with the pizzas, the smell of food filling the air. 

“What are you two laughing about?” You chirp, sitting down with the boxes on your lap, and passing them around. Robin had the mushroom pizza all to herself, Steve enjoyed the Italian sausage, and you had chosen the peperoni, even if you knew Steve would ask you for a bite or two. 

“Oh, nothing, we’re just hungry.” Robin said, knowing as well as you do, how bad of a liar Steve can be when put on the spot. 

-

Steve was speechless. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder, while the hand that rested on his thigh was now intertwined with his, though since you had drifted off, your fingers had relaxed a bit, letting him play lazily and carefully with your fingers. He enjoyed the way your skin felt, so soft against his. He wanted to feel them all over him, he needed you to feel him, your hands all over his skin. 

Just the thought of it made him breathe heavier, and feel as goosebumps invade his skin. 

Robin knew she needed to head out, so she called Nancy, and was waiting eagerly for her to come pick her up. But instead of looking out the window to catch a glimpse of her car, she was mesmerized by the sight of you too together. 

“Steve?” Robin whispered. 

“Robs?” He answered, careful not to wake you up. 

“You really do like her, don’t you?” He didn’t even need to answer, given that the soft curling upwards of his lips had already done so for him, regardless he nodded, and looked back at the way your eyelids were shut. 

“Is that bad?” Steve was afraid of the answer, he trusted Robin’s opinion more than anyone. 

“No.” She replayed, calmly. Her voice barely over a whisper, she was still smiling at him. “I can tell she likes you too.” 

“How come?” 

“They say that when you’re comfortable with someone, you have no trouble falling asleep. Henderson here always has trouble falling asleep, unless she’s near you.” 

Steve presses his lips together, as he remembers every single time you had fallen asleep next or near him, and he can’t help but giggle a little, just like Robin is now doing. 

“I really do like her, Robin.” He admits. What he doesn’t realise, is that you’re now beginning to wake up, making those the first words you hear, you decide to keep your eyes shut, and eavesdrop, trying to suppress your smile from appearing. 

“That’s amazing. You deserve something good.” She tells him. She's calm and confident. Honest. 

“But I’m scared.” He admits, his voice almost breaking. 

“You shouldn’t be, but I guess it’s normal. You’re being vulnerable with her, and with me now I guess.” She’s really trying to be reassuring, and somehow it works, as Steve can feel his shoulders drop, and you feel how his hand grips yours again. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He adds, you can feel his eyes lay on you, as he smiles. 

“I think Nance’s outside.” She whispers, as you hear her standing up. The wooden floor under his feet cracking as she approaches Steve. You hear their usual fist bump, as he opens and closes the door. 

Then you’re left there. 

You and Steve, finally alone. 

At first you stay there, frozen and enjoying Steve’s soft strokes, he’s drawing the same pattern over and over again on every piece of skin he manages to take a hold on. But once again, your soft smile betrays you, and in that moment Steve’s aware that you’re awake. 

“Hey.” You whisper, your eyes beginning to open, seeing him tower over you, a lovesick smile present on his lips. 

“Hi.” He answers, pushing away a flock of hair away from your face, tucked away behind your ear. He watches as you incorporate yourself, your faces finally looking at each other. His eyes can’t stop looking at you, closely, in the same way, you can’t help your cheeks from warming up. “You’re okay, honey?” 

There it was again. That stupid soft pet name that made you blush almost instantly, that word that only came out of his lips when you too were alone. 

“I’m great, Stevie.” It almost makes him melt, the way your voice calls him. How it tingles his skin, how it makes his chest feel tighter, how he wishes for you to never stop calling him. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

It was pretty obvious, if the dopey smiles and lovesick stares weren’t enough, the electricity that could be felt between both of your bodies let you know for sure. And the same question ran through both of your minds.  do you want to kiss me as much as i do?

But regardless he asks another question, one as stupid as the one he’s thinking. 

“Do you want me to drive you home?” You press your lips together in response, as you shake your head no. Your hair messing a bit as you do so. “Do you want to stay here?” 

And for some reason, maybe it’s the sense of comfort that invades the shared space, or the fact that his eyes have flicked to your lips twice since you had opened your eyes, but you finally have enough courage to ask him what he had promised. 

“Steve–” You whisper. 

“Honey?” 

“I want you to kiss me.”

His head closes the distance that separates the two of you. Your breath is mixing with his, as he bumps his nose with yours, that amount of closeness, that neediness makes you dizzy with anticipation. 

“Are you sure?” He sounded needy, almost drowning in anticipation. You nodded, your nose gracing his as you did so. 

“Yes, please, Stevie.” 

Hearing you whine like that does something to him, it makes his stomach knot up. His hand grabs the back of your neck, soft enough to not harm you, but hard enough to make you shiver once you feel the way his fingers touch your skin. You close your eyes, as soon as you feel him pulling you closer, his lips are just a whisper away from yours, and he is enjoying every moment. But as soon as his curved up smile reaches yours, you know he’ll kiss you, just as deeply and sweetly as you have been imagining. 

You’re right. 

His lips fit perfectly against yours. He tastes of vanilla and mint. His hand holds your neck tightly and close to him. He opens his mouth a bit, biting your lower lip, softly, waiting for your tongue to come out, and gives you the needy big kiss that he has been dying to give you. 

When you pull away, you don’t really separate. His forehead is leaning against yours. His thumbs stroke your cheeks in a repetitive circle pattern. Your hands have traveled all the way to his wrists, you were dizzy and you needed to hold him close, you needed to believe this really had happened. 

Steve started to laugh, slowly, softly.

 If you asked him, the answer would be yes, he has definitely fallen for you.

As soon as you heard him, you couldn’t help yourself, that stupid giggle was now escaping your lips, the kiss was better than you had imagined, and you needed a thousand more of them. 

“That… Was worth the wait.” You whisper against his lips. 

“You’re dramatic.” He chuckles, as he starts to play with the end of your hair. 

“Yeah I know.” You tell him, leaving a quick wet kiss on the corner of his mouth. “And you’re pretty.” You compliment him against his skin, feeling how it begins to warm up, a pinkish colour appearing on his cheeks. 

“Honey?” He’s the one whispering now, asking, almost begging for your attention. 

“Yeah?” 

“I want to kiss you again.” He tells you, as he nuzzles his nose into the apples of your cheeks, as soon as he feels you smile he can’t help but nibble a bit, a small bite that he leaves on your skin.

“You can kiss me as much as you want, babe.” Babe. As soon as he hears you say that he feels his heart melt, and he knows he could die right here and there and he would go happy. 

Maybe that’s why he can’t help himself, and the weird chuckling noise he emits as he closes the distance once again. Your hands are now tangled in his hair, and you play with it, as he deepens the kiss, his hands burry into your skin, pulling you closer, and closer. He needs you, he has to feel you close. He’s drunk with need, and anticipation, everytime your lips connect, he’s more sure that you’re the only person he ever wants to kiss, ever again. 

That necessity that he had before, it becomes much present now that he’s tried the way your lips taste. His fingers find his way under your shirt, tracing a pattern on your skin, making you whimper by that simple touch. He knows the affect he has on you, but you’re still unaware of just how much power you have over him. 

It’s not until your lips leave tiny kisses over his face, trailing off until they find his neck. A low groan that escapes Steve’s lips makes your entire body shiver, feeling how a pressure under your bellybutton begins to form. You've never heard him make that sound, and now you never want to stop hearing it. 

Steve throws his neck backwards, giving you full acces to wherever you please, as long as one of his hands is intertwined with one of yours. It’s not that he’s clingy, it’s just that he can’t quite believe that you’re with him, like this. 

So you stay there, kissing him, just as much as he kisses you. His left hand on the small of your back and his right one holding your hand closely to his. 

Eventually you stop. 

You’re both with a stupid smile on your lips, looking at each other with the same look, a I can’t believe this is happening, kind of look. He knows that it shouldn’t go any further, but he can’t help but wonder how you look under another certain light, with flushed cheeks and you screaming his name with a whimper. 

But just as much as he wonders that, he’s aware that it’s way too soon.  

So he just stays there, laid on the couch next to you, his hand still holding yours, his thumb rubbing the space between your index finger and your thumb in a repetitive pattern. 

You’re lost into him. You can’t quite believe just how lucky you feel, the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen is now next to you, just as crazy in love as you are. 

“What?” You whisper to  him, your eyes lighting up as you ask him. 

“Would you go out? With me?” You hear him asking, you don’t think you’ve ever heard him this shy. 

“Are you asking me on a date, Harrington?” You tease, failing to hide your excitement. 

“Only if you say yes.” He adds, that stupid Steve Harrington smirk present on his face, with his bright dark honey eyes shining directly to you. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes?”

“Yes, Steve, I’ll go out with you.”

-

-

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

taglist @nix-rose-q @whoringtonmunswhore @loveisforonlythebrave @impossibelle part 2 is up babes <3

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 7.5: The Only Escape

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter seven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Cursing (a few times), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

A/N: I know I've been kinda awol lately, so please enjoy this outtake that I never posted for "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love" as a bribe. It takes place between Chapter 6 and Chapter 8. Oh and yes I did name Soldier Boy's Dad, James, but only because I couldn't find it.

*************************************

Philadelphia 1936

"Where the hell is he?" The snarl shakes your entire house and wakes you from a fitful sleep.

"Who?" You hear your father say back to the voice.

"Benjamin!" The initial voice shouts back and you recognize it, sending a chill down your spine. 

Ben's father.

Ben stirs in the bed behind you, the arm he has thrown over you waist in his sleep to secure you into his chest is heavy, unyielding. And if it weren't for the circumstances you would stay and pretend to still be asleep so you could enjoy your close proximity.

Boarding school nine had been the longest stint that Ben had spent in any school. You wondered if that was because he genuinely tried or because he knew you were still at the Dawson School for Girls and he didn't have anywhere to go. Of course now you were on break, and although you had been surprised when he showed up at your window the night you returned home, you were happy.

You had missed your best friend more than words and when he crossed the threshold through the window you had practically crushed him against you in a hug that, much to your surprise, he returned with just as much enthusiasm. The most you'd been able to do was send him a few letters, but seeing him in person made you feel like your heart was whole again.

 School for you was going as well as you'd think. The only thing you'd ever been good at was art, but you were trying your best. You'd actually been able to make a few friends, but none of them filled the hole that opened in your heart when you left Ben standing on the train station platform watching you leave through the window.

"He’s not here James." Your father's voice is calm, controlled. You’d never seen him lose control, he was always well composed, even in the most stressful situations.

"What's wrong?" You hear your mother say from the stairs. You can imagine her bathed in the soft light from the hall lamps, wearing her perfect dressing gown, and looking effortless, not like she'd just been woken from sleep.

Your eyes go to the clock on your bedside table. It was past two in the morning, which meant that Ben's father was probably halfway through his second bottle of whiskey.

Probably has it with him.

"Where is y/n?" Ben's father roars through the door so loudly, you flinch.

Ben’s grip tightens on your waist and you turn to look over your shoulder at him. His eyes are wide, and you can see a vulnerability behind the green that strengthens you.

"It’s okay." You whisper to him. Your hand drifts to his arm where it rests around your waist, to soothe him. Ben doesn't remove it. "I'm just gonna go tell him that you're not here."

"Don’t go out there” Ben’s grip is unbreakable.

"It’ll be alright." You breathe.

Ben’s eyes are wide and for a moment you see the little eight year old boy hiding from his father in your fathers study all those years ago.

"No." He shakes his head.

"Ben. It's okay. I'll be right back." You say as you pull yourself reluctantly from his grip and slide out of the bed beside him. When you look back at the bed, Ben is still watching you with wide eyes, his hair mused on one side from sleep, and it takes everything for you not to return back to him.

"I know that son of a bitch is here! He's always here!" Ben's father shouts as you exit your room, the force of his rage no longer muffled against your bedroom door.

"Mom? Dad? What’s wrong?" You rub the sleep from your eyes, looking towards the staircase at the end of the hall where your parents stand in the way of Ben's father.

Each time you see him, you're always reminded of how much Ben looks like him. They have the same green eyes, the same handsome features, the same dark hair. But there are differences- his father always looks worn, his hair slicked back over his head and streaked with gray, his eyes were like two coal black pits that did not hold the warmth that Ben's did, and his father's features, although handsome, made him look cruel, not the same boyish ruggedness that Ben possessed.

"You!" His father snarls, pushing past your parents to stomp up the final stairs towards you. His suit is rumpled and unbuttoned, his usual slicked back hair is hanging in his eyes in long greasy strands, with unshaven cheeks, and he carries a half-full bottle of whiskey. "Where is my bastard of a son?"

"Y/n, go back to bed." Your father says from behind Ben's father, but you ignore him.

“Sir you are unwell. Perhaps you should go home and sleep.” You say keeping your voice as composed as you can. A small shiver of fear travels down your spine, but you shake it away remembering the look in Ben's eyes when he heard his father.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Ben's father snaps, continuing to advance on you, but you hold your ground. "Where is he?"

"He's at boarding school." The lie is immediate.

"You're lying." He takes a long pull from the bottle hanging from his hand. “Get out of my way.”

“No."

The smell of the alcohol on his breath washes across your face causing your nose to wrinkle. His eyes are blazing with the force of his anger, face contorted in rage. By now his father is standing a few feet away from you.

Too close.

"Ben’s not here. And this is my room.” You're clutching the sides of your nightgown so tightly that your fingers are white. The fear that rises in the back of your throat is pushed away by the anger you have towards Ben's father and the need to protect Ben. You'd always protected him the same way he protected you and that meant that you were not going to let his father into your room.

His father raises his free hand to move you away from your door, but your father intervenes. Your father's hand fastens on Ben's dad's wrist. “James. Do not touch my daughter.” Your father says. It was the first time you'd ever seen him sound angry and that scared you a little bit.

It seems to do something to Ben’s father, who takes a step back from the door, eyes burning with rage.

"If you see my son," Ben's father levels his gaze on yours, his eyes soul-less and cold, sending another shiver down your spine. "Tell him that I'm looking for him." He wrenches his hand from your father's grip, stomps down the stairs, and out the door, slamming it so loudly that the picture frames that line the hallway shake.

You release the breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Are you alright?" Your father asks, putting his hand on your shoulder.

Your mother is still watching from the top of the stairs and you can only imagine what she's thinking.

Probably that it's improper for me to be out here in my nightgown.

"Yeah. I'm just gonna- go back to bed." You begin to say, but your father hugs you before you go.

"Tell Ben that he doesn't have to leave." He whispers in your ear before he releases you and gently pushes you towards your bedroom door once more.

"What?" You look up at him with wide eyes, surprised.

How does he always know when Ben is here?

"Go on back to bed." He smiles tightly, but you can see how angry your father is in the tension in his shoulders.

"Okay. Goodnight mother." You say as you open your door.

"Goodnight."

When you close your door behind you, you realize that Ben isn't in bed anymore, he's halfway to the door as if he was going to come out of the room but stopped.

“Ben?" You whisper looking up into his wide eyes. You can see his anger, frustration, and beneath it all, you see genuine fear. You'd never seen Ben afraid before, not since the night you met and it breaks something deep down. But before you can do anything, Ben closes the distance between the two of you and pulls you tight into a hug, pressing his forehead into your shoulder. Warmth explodes wherever you’re touching and it take a great deal of effort for you not to melt.

“Hey. It’s okay.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair. “He’s not going to come in here. He’s gone.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” His voice is no more than a whisper. “I was going to come out-“

“Yes I did. You’re my friend. And I’m glad you didn’t.” You wonder what his father would have done if Ben came out of your bedroom. Ben’s father never hit him, but it didn’t mean that what he did do was any less okay. Standing here with Ben is enough to make the anger and frustration you felt melt away. You’re not aware of anything else but Ben. The rapid beat of his heart against yours, the breaths he takes, and the way the warmth of his body floods through where you are pressed against one another. 

“I should go-“ He begins to pull away.

“Like hell I’m going to let you go home to be with him. Come on. Let’s go back to bed.”

Ben stands there for a minute. You’d never seen him look so lost.

“Ben?”

He blinks a few times. “Hmm.”

“Come on.” You gently take his hand and lead him to the bed, drawing him back under the covers with you.

Your hands go under his arms and you hold him to you, not caring that you usually didn’t hug in bed. But Ben doesn’t pull away, in fact he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his forehead into your shoulder again.

“It’s okay.” You breathe, moving your fingers back into his hair. Deep down you know that this is different than all the other nights you’ve shared together, that you shouldn’t do this, but you can’t stop. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest and you desperately want him to be okay.

He sighs and tightens his arms around your waist, pushing himself further against you.

“I -um- missed you.” You hear him mutter into your shoulder.

You can't help, but smile, warmth blooming in your heart and making your heart flutter with his confession.

“I missed you too. No one annoys me as much as you do.” 

Ben”s chuckle is soft, but you love how it shakes your body due to your close proximity.

“What did you do to get out of this one?” You ask.

“Fight.”

“About what?”

“Nothing important.” He rumbles.

He doesn’t embellish and you don’t ask him to.

“How’s yours?”

“Boring.”

“Hmm.” He sighs leaning further into you.

You feel yourself begin to drift, the comfort of Ben’s warmth lulling you into a soothing slumber as you fingers stroke through his hair.

And when you wake up, Ben is gone.

*******************************************************

A/N: This was just a little outtake from the story, thought y'all would like it. I can't remember why I never posted it. Maybe because it seemed a little too soon for them to be this fluffy with one another?

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this story let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm @lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove @mrsjenniferwinchester @vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @libby99hb @peachhiz @tinydancer40

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 1.3 - Bad Dreams Are for the Birds

VLAD

“You’re really not going to move any of your stuff in or sleep here?” William demands as he storms into the study room. 

“And deprive you of the joy of having a room to yourself?” 

“Don’t try to turn this shit back on me.”

Bemused, Vlad takes a sip of his coffee. He would prefer a mocha, but there’s no way he’s trekking over to the Commons. “You don’t even want to sleep here.”

“Yes, but that’s because graduate housing is…” William glances around the dorm, his disdain clear, "I’ve stayed in nicer hotels.” 

“I see you’ve spent the morning with your family.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

William knows what it means, just like he knows that Vlad prefers living at home and the bliss of not sharing a space with random sims who talk and breathe in ways that annoy him. He only sleeps in the dorm when he’s too drunk to get himself back to Henford-on-Bagley. 

“Maybe I would like a little companionship,” William grumbles, “Maybe I want to spend time with my best friend while we enjoy our last year of freedom.”

“But then where would you bring your non-Christopher boyfriends?” Vlad smiles, “In fact, it's lunchtime. Shouldn’t Vaea be on his way here?” 

“And what about you?” William snaps, ignoring the question. “There isn’t a single speck of free space in that entire compound you call a home, assuming you could find a sim willing to take the train to the countryside for a hook-up.”

Vlad doesn’t do hook-ups. He barely likes to be touched. Most of the time, masturbation suits him just fine. His ex was confused about this. Fuifui took great pride in being his first until he discovered that Vlad didn’t attach any morality to sex; he simply hated most sims so much he could never quiet his mind down.

“William, bringing my delightful brand of friendship to strangers is low on my priority list.” 

“Well, this is our last year of law school, Vladislaus. You are supposed to be meeting strangers, living it up, having fun.” 

Vlad wasn’t a hermit by any stretch of the definition. He let William drag him to any number of social activities. But it wasn’t his preference. He was better when he was alone.

“The Volkovs were wrong,” William continues, reading Vlad’s mind in a way that is only possible when you’ve been friends since the 5th grade. “You are fit for public consumption.”

Actually, Fuifui and his adopted family were far more specific than that. Their exact words were that Vlad lacked a conscience and a heart. The first part was accurate, but the second part? 

The second part filled Vlad with an unending desire to flay open his chest and see if it was true.

“Quit being so difficult and put yourself out there,” William scolds, “You don’t need to study, so you might as well use your time for something.”

“I could plan your wedding,” Vlad quips as he returns the book he was reading to the shelf. Truthfully, he just wants to rile William up so he can secretly check his phone. 

There’s no reason to admit it yet, but he is putting himself “out there.” Judging by the available profiles on Cupid’s Corner, though, it’s a wasted effort. 

The app loves to tout its “secret algorithmic formula”—and yes, Vlad read the entire website. The urge to read every single detail on a topic is one he can’t often subdue. But clearly, the algorithm is broken. Every single sim on this app is insufferable except—

Vlad’s finger hovers over the message button. There are a million things wrong with this profile that should send him screaming—typos, misspellings, terrible grammar. But her username makes it seem like she’s daring him to bring up even one of her faults, and Watcher helps him; he likes it. 

Her real name is Alice, and the title of her bio is “Nothing to see here folks!” Instead of describing her hobbies and university major, she just lists her top ten Tea and Treachery hot takes. 

Vlad fires off a message and grins when he gets an immediate response. 

“Are you even listening?” William cries. “I asked if you had nightmares.”

“I slept fine,” Vlad murmurs, focusing on crafting the perfect reply to Alice’s challenge.

Finally, he looks up from his phone to find William staring at him strangely.

“You know I don’t dream,” Vlad sighs. “Never have. Probably never will.”

PREV | NEXT

(Part 4 of 5)

Did you miss the opening credits? Check them out here.

(not for nothing but I love this dorm built by @bojanastarcevic and idc if makes my sims pay like $3000 a semester for tuition)

[im-immortal]

AO3 Roundup 2024

thank you so much for the tag @galadrieljones ! (seriously such an honor from a writer i admire so much)

tagging: @mistressheroine @pipergirl17 @piper1016 @littlelindentree @weapon13whitefang @not-so-austen @lemortehomme @raginglittlehurricane @spield @rckyfrk @deerdens @xx-cherryballerina (and anyone else who feels like doing this, pls tag me so i can read and like your post, i love you all)

—Words posted: 327,634

—Additional Words Written: unknown, but probably close to 450,000

—Grand total of words: girl idk. let's call it 500k just to be safe, especially if we're including all the words i deleted lmao

—Fandoms: The Walking Dead

—Works: another installation of Let us always find each other, To Love is To Be Alive, and Small Miracles

—Highest Kudos: Small Miracles

—Highest Hit One-shot: To Love is To Be Alive

—New Things I Tried: writing an almost-cross-over with Beth/Daryl and Detroit: Become Human. that was a fun venture into a different universe that was not of my own creation, fitting in two characters who definitely didn't belong and somehow making them belong. writing not one, but two OC's that people actually care about in Small Miracles. i genuinely didn't think anyone would care much for Gale or Mae, but now they've become nearly as beloved to the readers as they are to me and honestly, i cannot describe how good that makes me feel! particularly for my little sentient zombie boy <3

—Fic I Spent the Most Time On: Small Miracles ... and i am still spending time on it. y'all have no idea. i made playlists, i listened to songs on repeat, i added and extracted and added again to the outline, i brainstormed during downtime at work, i got new ideas while watching movies and shows. i am still doing all those things, i'm just not quite capable of putting thoughts and ideas into words like i was throughout the majority of 2024.

—Fic I Spent the Least Time On: To Love is To Be Alive -- it came to me fast and hard, i wrote it in about 2-3 weeks because it was so rapidly coming into my head and i just had to get it out.

—Favourite Thing I Wrote: Small Miracles ... duh. i fucking love this fic and still do. i can't wait to finish it.

—Favorite Thing I Read: as far as books go (pls message me if you want to add me on Goodreads), my favorite reads this year were:

The Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix

A Novel Love Story by Ashley Poston

The Nanny by Lana Ferguson

Last Light by Claire Kent (this one is for all my Bethyl girlies--it's extremely Daryl/Beth-coded, so if you love Bethyl and you love post-apocalypse fiction with a healthy dash of smut, you should definitely give it a try)

and for fanfiction, i'm gonna narrow it down and say it's a tie between:

afterglow by galadrieljones

Love in the Wilderness by LeighJ

Sweet Willow by CherryParfait

Revenant by devils_might_heed_us

La Dame Blanche by MistressHeroine

genealogy by wandering_gypsy_feet

qué será, será by moonshineshacks

—Something I Finished: ummm let's be so real... the only thing i actually finished this year was To Love is To Be Alive ... sorry about that for my readers. i swear to GOD i'm doing my best to finish at least ONE more thing omg

—Miscellaneous Highlights: i played a lot more video games and read a lot more books this year than i think i have in the last five years, so that's a highlight for me (hello, i actually discovered, played, and rapidly became obsessed with the entire Life is Strange series and its universe, as well as all of the Supermassive games, from Until Dawn to The Quarry and through the entire Dark Pictures Anthology!) because i love taking inspiration from other fiction in every form. i'm very proud of myself. also, i started converting my fic Lunacy Fringe into an original novel, and it's about 3/4th of the way finished, so i am actually excited to finish that and put it out into the world just to say i did it, just to say that i actually wrote my own original novel and contributed it to the millions upon millions of self-published novels available online lol (i guess i wanna contribute to The Zeitgeist ?? idk if i'm even using that correctly??). i also pushed myself and delved into writing OC's into one of my fics and found that it was well-received, which gave me a bit of a confidence boost! not to mention, i reread Wild Love by LeighJ and commented (because for some reason i didn't comment the first time i read it?? what the hell was wrong with me?) and it ended up sparking her to add some deleted scenes and create a series that i now ADORE, and there is nothing i love more than encouraging other writers and seeing what they can come up with when they're reminded of how much their writing is appreciated. i am also incredibly proud and appreciative of @mistressheroine for everything she's written this year and all the help she's given me in my own writing, and for being such an amazing friend and just an overall great person to talk to and fangirl with. also mad kudos to @raginglittlehurricane for our shared obsession with Kyle Gallner and the Dinner in America movie, and all those countless tiktok edits we send to each other (girl, i am impatiently awaiting the release of that DiA fic... just saying).

—Writing Goals for 2025:

finish Small Miracles.

finish hot girl summer (playing by the rules).

start posting and continue writing cuffing season (part 6 of in for a penny, in for a pound).

add some chapters/possibly complete who we gotta be and Redire A Morte.

finally finish and publish Lunacy Fringe as an original novel.

somehow make time to finish and post the final chapters of Don't Make Me Haunt You.

make some more headway on my original zombie apocalypse novel, even if it's just a fully-fleshed outline.

—Final Thoughts: i have a lot of shit on my plate, especially for a sleepy bitch who works full-time and also enjoys other endeavors like movies, shows, and video games. (ps: give me a follow on twitch @im1mmortal to see me livestream like two or three times a month lol) but all in all, i feel like i am continuing to learn and grow as a writer and at the end of the day, that's all that really matters to me. i want to read as many books as i can, consume as much well-written media as possible, and learn as much as possible when it comes to making my own dreams come true. i know i have a lot of WIPs sitting around just waiting to be finished, and believe me, i see all the comments urging me to continue and finish, and i desperately want to, but i have to go off of vibes. it sounds lame, but it's true. i refuse to write unless i feel like i am writing from my heart. i erase anything that feels forced or soulless. quality over quantity all day, every day. but i also recognize that i'm kind of an idiot who has a strength in starting things and reaching the point of climax, and my greatest weakness is actually writing the climax and reaching the conclusion. i'm working on that all the time, and i strive to change it. but what really keeps me going is the feedback and the random comments and messages, even if they're months or years later, letting me know that something i wrote resonated with someone far away who i will never meet or actually know. it gives me all the motivation i need. i just have to find that last little passage past the mental block to continue writing and actually finish something. oh... and the energy LOL. seriously tho, i love this fandom, i adore all of the various fics i've been blessed enough to read because they offer such different perspectives on characters and settings and they open up my mind to entirely new possibilities. not to mention, i've made some of the absolute best friends through fandom and fanfic. i wouldn't trade it for the world. all i ask for is a little patience and understanding. and i really hope to keep you all in my heart and see y'all on the other side of whatever this is as we traverse life and fiction and discover how the two overlap in ways we never could have imagined <3

as we all get older, in the best of ways, let's fuck 2025 right in the mouth

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

Do you have an advice for pulling together a Cecil canon outfit then? /nf /gen /nm

I think I do!

First - you must acknowlege that Cecil is 'Night Vale normal' in terms of his fashion. In the rare occasions we get where people's clothing is described to us they are dressed much as Cecil does. Even the scientists are always in labcoats (including Carlos) which is bizarre in itself. So nobody is ever going to comment on how he dresses and everyone around him should probably be dressed much the same but flavoured to themselves.

Second - that word I used, bizarre, that is the expected reaction to Cecil's outfits when we are told about them. Whether you think bizarre is good/funny or not.

In meta, I mean. The joke is that his clothing is weird and real people wouldn't normally dress like that.

So, similar to how the 'joke' that Megan is a juxtapose between masculine and feminine rubbed wrong, we must also think about what we put on Cecil (and Kevin and Carlos and...).

Especially because the fandom loves to say he dresses weird and use friendly derogatory terms and insults to describe him. So if you're putting him in any feminine clothing at all, hmm, are you trying to say that's weird and bizarre then?

Probably it's unintentional. But I think it is worth questioning why your mind may jump to feminine clothing/clothing generally worn by and made for woman, whenever the idea of a 'man who dresses in a strange way' is presented even if you think it's cool and cute and a good thing.

Not that it's forbidden, of course. Just that that element (a skirt or a dress or something) should perhaps be the least odd thing about his outfit if it's there at all. It's a pet peeve of mine, personally, gender non-conformity not only being assumed of any queer man but also presented as 'unusual'. But I do know it's done innocently the majority of the time.

Ok, so on to the actual tips!

Analysing Cecil's clothing we find a kind of...not rule, more commonality.

First, start with an outfit that is relatively if not completely ordinary. Now, add an accessory to it. This accessory can either commonly match, or be completely mismatched for the fit.

If it commonly matches, try adding a strange design pattern or element to it. Do that with any other accessory, making sure some are typical and ordinary to avoid cluttering.

Pick an element of clothing he's wearing. Now change the fabric to something unusual, or frankly impossible or at the best ill-advised (sponge clogs, honey-comb hat). Possibly add a few patterns or unusual colourations too.

Apply this logic to any kind of outfit from business to casual and you have something very Cecil.

Colours are up to you, we love to put him in purple but it's not necessary. If you're having trouble coming up with the base outfit, there's no shame picking a kind of item he's worn in canon (such as the tunic) and using that because we know for sure he likes to wear that kind of item.

Go for 'eccentric gay uncle whose style actually lowkey slaps because he's spent years collecting very specific items which shouldn't but do work somehow' and less 'a cluttered mess with no coordination or thought, the meanswear guy would have a field day (negative), to the point where it's almost boring again'.

Hope that helps!

example: Look at the cosplay my partner did that I recently reblogged! The tunic-style shirt is relatively ordinary, but it is brightly coloured and accessorised with a glittering cactus pin. The trousers are heavily patterned AND furry to boot. The marching band hat is not only decorated in a bizarre way but does not match the rest of the outfit at all. The sunglasses are the icing on the cake, matching up with the hat so the two of them have some coordination, but not exactly what you'd call 'average' glasses.

[godsfavoritescientist]

AITA for throwing a party for my best friend?

I (NB, 1 trillion) recently befriended someone (M, 60+) for the first time in ages. At first I only spent time with him because I felt sorry for him (he had no other friends), but after I got to know him, I realized he was really smart and fun to talk to.

Early on in our friendship, he asked me for help with an important project he was stuck on, and I agreed right away. I dedicated several years to helping him out, doing everything from giving him an idea that would solve all his problems once completed to walking him through complex math to encouraging him to keep going when he hit roadblocks. Every single time I helped with the project for all those years, I stayed up all through the night working on it with him.

A year before things started to fall apart between us, he invited a different friend to help with the project too, who I’ll call “F.” This guy hated the local wildlife (which my friend loved and dedicated his life to studying), and my friend insisted on keeping me a secret from F out of fear that F would hate me too. My friend also insisted on delaying his own project (which he had to finish so that he could keep getting funded to do his dream job) in order to keep F happy by building side-projects that F suggested.

Throughout his time “helping” with the project, F kept criticizing my friend and his project. Eventually, F finished a secret side-project of his own, to build a weapon that erases memories, and used it on my friend multiple times without his consent. I tried to warn my friend that F wasn’t trustworthy, but my friend didn’t do anything with my advice.

When the project was almost complete, F saw me for a few seconds and threw a fit. He used some choice words to describe my friend’s life’s work, told him he should destroy his project, and then abandoned my friend.

My friend was really upset about this, and tried to get in contact with me to reassure him. Unfortunately, I was spending time with my other friends for a couple of days at the time, and didn’t get his messages. He responded by barging into my own home, running up behind me, and accusing me of giving him a bad idea for the project we worked on together for years up until that point, probably because he was doubting his own reasoning skills after finding out that his choice to let F stick around had been a bad decision. I reassured him that he is smart (he is insecure about that) and revealed that I was planning to throw him a huge surprise party too, once his project was finished. He got really angry about this, and announced that he wanted to shut down his life’s work just to stop the party from happening.

I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t want me to throw him a party, and assumed that the stress of losing a friend (even a bad friend like F) was making him not think clearly. I also got a little bit annoyed that he could ever throw all our hard work down the drain so impulsively like that. I diligently stopped him from ruining his own creation, and waited for him to get over his moment of irrational feelings so we could get back to finishing his work, but it never happened.

He kept trying to shut down the project, and ended up losing everything because of it. When he invited yet another bad influence into his home (his brother, who had been a criminal for over ten years at that point), his brother used his diabolical mind to come up with a way to use our project against him, in a way that trapped my friend in a really dangerous situation for several decades.

I looked for my friend for the entire time he was lost in a dangerous situation, but I had no luck. And right when my friend miraculously found me, his brother separated us again. But there was a silver lining to this situation: my friend’s brother accidentally created a way for me to finally reunite with my friend and throw him the surprise party I had been planning.

[infin1ty-garden]

VALENTINE'S DAY

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ summary: headcanons of the shadow & bone characters on valentine's day ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ character(s): nikolai lantsov, tamar kit-bataar, tolya yul-bataar, genya safin and zoya nazyalensky ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ warnings: none ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ word count: 752 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ author note: NOT A MODERN AU! sorry some are a bit shorter

masterlist.

NIKOLAI LANTSOV

✦ He would overplan and over think every detail, he's worse than Genya

✦ Thoughts like "Which gift would you like better?" "An outdoor or indoor date?" "Maybe a date at the theatre?"

✦ He'd spent nights planning but nothing seemed right, Zoya knocked some sense into him. "I think they wouldn't mind all this expensive stuff, but you being there is enough"

✦ Would end up going simple, inviting you to dine with him

✦ The food would be some of the best you'd ever tasted

✦ After the dinner you would walk the gardens together, enjoying the fresh air when with his luck, he's being called back to the palace

✦ "May I have this dance," Nikolai intrigued by what your doing, takes you up on the offer

✦ The two of us danced until the meeting was on the back of his mind but eventually he had to leave but not without a kiss

TAMAR YUL BATAAR

✦ Tamar's mentality is more of "let's see what the day brings" but she does have some stuff planed

✦ The ship had docked in Novy Zem, a festival taking place near the docks. Tamar remembered you wanting to visit it

✦ The festival had carts lining the street with all kinds of delicacies from every corner of the world. Streets booming with colours. It was a beautiful site

✦ Tamar and you spent the day trying all kinds of food and just being around each other. She didn't mind spending all her money just for you to keep that lovely smile

✦ Then the both of you found yourselves in a local bar, singing songs you'd only learned the words to an hour ago

✦The day ended in a cot, somehow two people fitting in such a small space. You laying completely on her, sound asleep

TOLYA YUL BATAAR

✦ Tolya is the romantic out of the twins

✦ Still he would go simple being apart of Nikolai's crew means travelling a lot and that leaves out, a typical dinner date

✦ Living on a ship as well doesn't help. There aren't many places for a quite talk, let alone a date

✦ Instead he turns to what he knows best, poetry. He would spend days looking for the perfect book and then weeks annotating it. Underlining verses that reminds him of you or moments shared together

✦ He would invite you to the deck and by the time he did most of the crew were asleep. You thought he'd forgotten the holiday all together, you were wrong. He gave you a box of sweets he'd bought at the port in Novy Zem, along with the book

✦ You'd spent the rest of the night sharing the sweets and just enjoying each other's company

✦ When you finally had the chance to read the book, some of the poems described the stars lost in the night's sky, a sea of darkness, finding their true purpose upon the arrival of the moon. "You're my moon, the only purpose I need" (sorry it's cheesy)

GENYA SAFIN

✦ Genya would go above and beyond to make the perfect valentine's day date

✦ A picnic date if the weather calls for it with both of your favourite snacks, foods and deserts

✦ If it does end up raining a nice date indoors would be something she prefers over, a fancy dinner

✦ She doesn't mind dining in a expensive restaurant, but she thinks a more personal dinner at home, is better

✦ Genya would plan everything down to the last minute especially if it's your first valentine's day together

✦ She ended up getting her picnic date

✦ All kinds of foods were lined up in front of you as you enjoyed the sunny day and spending time with Genya

ZOYA NAZYALENSKY

✦ You would be the one planning the date and Zoya would act as if the holiday has little significance to her. You'd decided a date at a fancy restaurant was the way to go

✦ She'd loved it, the one you chose wasn't too crowded and the food was delicious. You'd talked about your future plans with one another, how your day had gone and so on

✦ After leaving the restaurant, the two of you headed somewhere a bit more reclusive to watch the fireworks

✦ Zoya too busy staring at the fireworks, didn't notice your hands putting something around her neck. Once she tore her eyes from the literal explosions of colour, she spotted a beautiful necklace. "Happy Valentine's day."

Thank you for reading!

[dynamic-k]

If you're accepting asks for this right now, I've always been curious... do you have colors for some of the villains in the Super Sticks AU? Some colors were probably mentioned and I forgot them, but overall I don't remember all of the villains' colors being revealed.

This ask has been staring at me for quite some time, and I did honestly try much earlier to muster up some brain cells to give an answer-

I am always always accepting asks, it's just a matter of me answering on my own time. Theeeeesss one took me a whhiiile~ sorryy

To be honest, if there are not descriptions in the fic or bonus features, than I just don't have a description.

Sometimes, that's how I write. I have the semblances of a character design in my head, but I am definitely more on the word-oriented side of making an AU.

-

I will say that Madame Pop-Up has a pretty heavy design, actually. She was supposed to look a very specific way.

While it might sound strange to hear all at once, that's how it is so deal with it- /silly

-

Madame Pop-Up has a creamy-white [with like- barest hint of pink/red] skin with rosier and more prominent pink patches/splotches.

#fffffa, for the creamy white

#e6b3e5 for the rosy pink

Boots: #b80b45 [Ankle boots or higher, take your pick, she could wear either.]

Gloves: (which go about mid arm length) #fc0859

Poppy flower shade: #fc0820

With yellow middle.

She's supposed to be like a glamourous movie star look. I have yet to decide if I want her canon identity to be famous in that way or not, but it is tempting and matches my envisioned style of her to a T. :]

[The patches should look sorta streaky, like thick stripes. Large brush stroke stripes, of a sort? ]

Think a patches cat. Occasional spots, mostly stripes, a bit random but it looks nice because again: she is very showoff-ish and glamorous.

U U

An intimidating movie-star style though. She terrifies Chosen for a REASON, guys-

Oh and Madame has these color eyes: #bf0d52

-

Those are pictures I found online that match closely with how I imagine Madame's hair. Take creative liberties or variations if you want. 

Oh yeah, hair color: uhhh

[*digging in my worn cardboard box of hexcodes-*]

#520642

There-

-

Now uh-

I DID try to make a sketch.

...It got a little..

...coffee-d. Q Q

..Oops.

[And no, she doesn't have only one arm, I just- Didn't draw it-]

I BLOWDRIED THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF THAT PAPER, WE'RE FINE-

I went back to my initial Arc One description, apparently Madame has a mask. I almost forgot about that: Like I said, I'm more word-oriented and delve deeply into plot.. and leave designs lacking sometimes-

I try my best, I'm glad the Ladybug Brothers have solid designs at least-

I'm gonna work equally hard with how the Color Gang will look in Arc Two, but that's still gonna be a while-

Uhh, the mask is..

You know what- 

I am just gonna explain how the style is. If someone wants to draw my OCs, use the style descriptions and go ham with whatever you deem fitting.

:]

I love all my fanart, no matter the 'accuracy' or whatever. :)

-

Uhhm, so let's move on to Mudd.

He is really easy to describe because I spent barely any time making him.

I'd just started the AU and needed some bully guy. And then ended up making him Red's nemesis- By accident-

Okay- XD

Uh.. Mudd has an arm canon on his left arm, and he can use it to funnel his acidic mud wherever he pleases at varying pressure rates.

Due to the acidic qualities, and occasional rocky clumps within the dirt substance, it does pack more of a punch than it might sound.

Mudd doesn't really create mud out of thin air, it's more like he manipulates the dirt around him and makes it into acidic mud via his sweat because I thought the way Bakugo's quirk in MHA worked was epically awesome and took creative liberties-

Then he can manipulate his mud into the arm canon and fire it out quicker than he could utilize effort to thrust it himself. Energy saver.

Uhm. He's a bulky figure. Simple brown-themed costume with maybe occasional black, no cape, generic mask.

There ya go. U U'

-

-

Moving onto the Alcoholic family:

-Vodka and Whiskey, the twins.

-Rum, the mother.

-The Jade Pretzel, the father. [And a british dramatic variant of Jade from A Second's Tale.]

-

-

The twins are the thin, wiry sort.

If anyone is familiar with this Junkrat and Roadhog animation for Overwatch:

Junkrat's build is similar to how the twins are. Actually the hair too, a bit, now that I think about it.

It sticks up and outward a little more for Whiskey; the younger of the twins. 

Take creative liberties with the costumes, honestly. 

All I know is that Whiskey is more greener themed, because his abilities are relatable to the nausea effect in Minecraft.

Vodka is more like...

Pinky browny? 

[*more digging in my worn and torn cardboard box of hexcodes-*]

#a36c6c

Have at thee-

O vO'

-

Rum is a bit more on the deep purple end of color scheme. With a RUM RED littered about as the complimentary color. She is fairly muscular, and has a stockier build than her sons.

-

Now, uh- The Super Sticks variant of Jade-

I found a stick-figure piccrew and made ST!Jade and SS!Jade respectively- [not 100% accurate, but the vibes are present-]

He has a monocle. Canon. You heard it here folks, I HAD to- 

It's got a gold rim, clear glass. 

It's actually attached to his mask, which is green and gold themed, so the monocle doesn't easily get knocked off if he moves too fast or something.

I will.. describe more of him when I actually complete the chapter where the Ladybug Brothers are battling the Jade Pretzel- 

The fight scene eludes me at the moment, so I keep writing more color gang shenanigans for future chapters instead- And probably a good thing too, since the ending homestretch of Arc One really didn't give our Color Quad the spotlight they deserve, so I'm putting more focus on them in Arc Two~

-

Uhhh, and that's it..?

[*brain buffering-*]

...Do I need to describe Primal/Prime a little bit since at one point she played a villain role-

-

Okay, yeah, why not~ 

:]

Primal is cool. She's got emo vibes, but is browner/tan themed rather than black or something you'd find on an emo-stereotypical design. 

She prefers practical over stylish canonically, but ends up appearing rather well-designed anyway, in the eyes of others.

And her hair alternates from side, over-the-shoulder braids, to long back-ponytails on a whim.

Yes, Vic has a side braid too, but it isn't that long so it sticks out sideways in the back, and doesn't touch the shoulder.

Primal's hair is also a different length. It's aboooout mid-upper chest. :)

And that, I think, is all. 

-

...I really hope I don't immediately remember a villain OC I just forgot to speak of after hitting the Post button-

Thank you for the ask, and I deeply apologize for how long this sat in my Inbox. Fret not, your ask vehemently stared me in the face until I was intimidated enough to gather my notes together and some braincells too-

U U

Have a lovely day~

Edit: Do ignore that gloved hand in my sketch.

...Just ignore that. We all know I can't do hands.

I went powerpuff mitten style purely for some saving grace- XD

[tag-the-degenerate]

The Hide Scribe Part 1

Chapter 1 - Tag Devilish

While robbing passerby’s in Cleghorn, I happened upon the love of my life for the first time.

I wasn’t a hidescribe then, I was hardly yet even a person. I was just a young devious beastie all on my own. A classless thing, I was, without much on my mind neither.

See, in my culture a gal isn’t grown until she has wandered all around. A woman has gotta make her own way and have adventures, otherwise she’ll die a girl. Men and en’s do too I guess, but I wouldn’t know because I’m not one of ‘em. What it comes down to is makin’ and havin’ stories.

If you don’t have stories to tell and they ain’t good, it’s like you never even existed. My people call it “chasing your tale” like you go out into what’s left of the world and you sort of gather up pieces of who you’re gonna be and who you always were as you go. Once you think you have most of the pieces then you’ve caught it- your tale, your story and it’s like you’re finally real. It didn’t make sense to me when I first heard about it, maybe it doesn’t to you now either as you read it, but best I can describe it is- it’s a feeling. An awareness almost, a purpose like. You know when you’ve found it.

Anyway, that’s what I was doin’, wandering all around trying to figure myself out and my place in the ruins of the world and I was working as a highway woman. I didn’t have Baptise (my tattoo tool) yet, so it was just me and Eadrich.

Eadrich is my macuahuitl and before I picked up Baptise, he was my tool of the trade and my constant companion. A macuahuitl is a weapon what for bashin’ and guttin’ -and when you’re a girl all alone you need something that can do that y’know? It’s a funny spelled word macuahuitl, but you say it like “Mak-wa-wick.”

Around this side of the desert not a lot of folks have seen one or even really know what it is, but see my Daddy o’s people use them and they’re from way down north.

Daddy’ o’s folk, never took a liking to me. They’re people eaters down in the cradle land and we don’t speak the same tongue. I was raised with my mom’s camp until

It was time to wander, then I headed straight out to meet them first. Never met Daddy o, but I met his mom and the rest of the people eaters. They didn’t know what to do with me really, we didn’t talk the same, we didn’t look the same and I felt much the same way I did with my mom’s people- out of place.

I spent a bit with Daddy o’s people and overtime I came to understand them when they spoke, but they never embraced me. When I tried to talk to them in their tongue back they laughed ‘cause I didn’t say things proper enough. So I stopped talkin’ for awhile altogether when I was with them.

I wanted to fit in with them and I couldn’t figure out why. I never fit in with my mom’s folk, but they loved me easy anyway. I thought maybe the reason I didn’t fit in with them was because I was meant to fit in with the people eaters. But, the more I tried the less Daddy o’s folks seemed to care. They all used and made their own

macuahuitls so I made one too. But y’know, no one showed me how so Eadrich turned out different.

Like, when the people eaters made theirs they used wood and glass, but I didn’t have that so I made mine with a piece of scrap metal. Even though they said it wasn’t a real Macuahuitl because of that, I felt like that was ok. Because I wasn’t a real people eater to them either.

After I made Eadrich there was a raid. That day, I went with my group of people eaters to a gathering of their kind out in the old mining lands we call Black mountain. People eater families from all over get together there once a year and the young ones do a rite to celebrate coming into adulthood. I never got to do the rite, I wasn’t allowed because I was only half people eater and they wouldn’t let me, but I went with them to watch. The rite is called “the feast of the beast.” The young ones (around my age then) all go hungry a couple days and only drink water. Then on the feast day they eat a big portion of mushrooms the elders bring out.

The mushrooms are a big deal to the people eaters, trusted elders grow and keep them and no outsider is allowed to touch or even see them. They’re magick, real magick those things. When you eat them you’re supposed to meet the Psilocyren, the goddess of mad divinity. She’ll show you all the secrets of the world, make you face your greatest fears and whisper to you all the plans the world has for your soul.

I wanted to meet her so bad, I thought about stealing the mushrooms myself but I didn’t have a good plan- anyway that’s when the raid happened. It was the night before the feast and we were all camped and gathered. I heard their bikes first and it wasn’t until I tore out the tent that I heard the elders screaming. One of those bikes had a metallic ting in the engine, like something was jingling around inside. The raiders had snatched up the mushrooms- the whole leather bag of ‘em. One of ‘em took off with all of ‘em and was dusting up the desert already. The other ones were putting up a fight with the people eaters. They tried to set our tents ablaze and chop us down but we knew how to fight. two more escaped and went with their friend the thief and the other three we killed. Some of the young folks tried to go after them but they lost him when he went up the ridge. They said without bikes of their own they wouldn’t be able to get em and there was only one working bike among the ones we killed and no one was a good rider.

Losing the mushrooms was mourned more

than the people who were killed that night and as the people eaters buried the dead, I stole that bike and took off to get those mushrooms back.

No one seemed to notice I left, but I knew

If I came back with the mushrooms they’d never overlook me again.

Chapter 2- Cervus

I left after the raiders and I wasn’t too good on the bike. It was in rough shape and ran outta guzzo half up a mountain pass up towards Vegas. The tracks the thieves left behind seemed to be going towards Cleghorn and it was the only settlement for miles I knew about. The way I bet it, they were looking to sell the mushrooms. Such a thing would surely fetch a big price among chem folk.

Along the way, I started robbin’ on the highways. I was around 17 then and I’d just crossed the canyon into Cleghorn.

Cleghorn is a little settlement where people come to trade up on the way through the Cajon pass. It’s tucked in the mountains where the water isn’t so radded out and a lot of people make camp there when they’re on their way to bigger places. I went there mainly so I could rob men and eat some food, which is all I really did back then. Sometimes I’d draw if I had time though.

The settlement had high walls made of big wood posts and if you wanted get in you had to talk to a doorman with a gun or two. I was in line to enter behind a caravan of traders that were eyeballin’ me some and after a slow march up they let me in. They asked if I had a gun and I showed them Eadrich instead. The main guard guy laughed and said he was the ugliest knife he’d ever seen. I told him he wasn’t a knife, he was a Macuahuitl and they laughed some more and let us through together.

I remember when I first went in I noticed a round tent in the courtyard that was surrounded by a crowd. I couldn’t see what was inside but I could hear them all laughing and hollering. I had never seen people laugh all together like that, I hadn’t ever seen that many people in one place where they weren’t fighting and it pretty well vexed me.

The whole place was a bazaar of things for trading-and I needed things- booths of supplies and trinkets and people offering up their services, but I passed it all by to join that crowd because I had to see what the fuss was all about.

As I got closer I squeezed through some of the big men standing in the back and saw that most of the people in the crowd were seated. It was the damnest thing! Some had even brought chairs and pillows but most were cross legged and sitting in the dirt all surrounding this one single guy talking in the center of the circle of listeners.

They were grown people, hard men looking like big warlords and killers and black thumbs and ladies too, lookin just as tough. Raider scum and biker nomads - and there were some little ones and young folks too- trader families and ol’ folk but they were all together and all of ‘em were sitting’ side by side and smiling like excited little kids listening to the guy talk- the story teller, tellin’ tales. Cervus.

I kept my distance at first, circling through the audience like a wild animal at the edge of a campfire. Then, slowly as he told story after story I crept closer each time, until I found myself sitting at Cervus’ feet like a pet tamed and waiting for a treat.

I can see him now, sitting in the center of that old rug, his bare legs crossed with layers of cloth bundled around his waist. His chest was also bare with a heavy fur mantle sitting upon his shoulders and his face- his beautiful face- obscured with a mask made from the skull cap of a great red deer with holes punched where his eyes sit- nothing but black pin pricks where the fire might glint if it caught just the right way.

I remember staring up at him, watching his thick pointed beard slightly bob from under the edge of the mask as he spoke. It was his voice I was first transfixed by. It was gentle and low and masculine, intimate and inviting. Like the soft rising smoke of a stick of incense.

When he was done, everyone raised their drinking cups and toasted to the moral of his final tale- which if I recall was “there is no moral, it’s just a thing that happened.” And everyone cheered “things happen!” And laughed. Cervus sat awhile while people came up to talk to him and give him trinkets and caps. I stayed and watched before he finally stood and parted.

It wasn’t until Cervus was gone that I crept upon the carpet he’d had sat upon and took a moment to sit. I took out my book of scribblings and penned a little drawing of him to commit the moment to memory. I didn’t draw back then as much as I do now. Now I draw every day, but back then I didn’t have the safety to stop and do so. I only had the one book too and I treated the pages real precious like. Paper was hard to come by so I only drew what I thought was important. I didn’t know precisely why at that moment, but I knew seeing that story teller was worth remembering.

Chapter 3 - The Paw’Caso

That evening I took shelter in the shade of the settlement of wall and drew for a long time without looking up much. I figured I’d have a better chance finding the raiders that took the mushrooms at night when I could creep around and not be spotted. I’d look for their bikes first. The thing about Cleghorn is it’s basically just a big walled in camp in the middle of the high-land. It’s filled with lots of traders with booths and things but the only real building is in the middle and it cost a brass cas’ to get in. That building is the ���common house” where they pour drinks and the bigger wigs do business at tables and chairs. I didn’t have a cas’ to spend so I couldn’t go in then and there. I just posted up next to it in the shade close by.

While I was sittin there a man passed over my light. He lingered awhile, his shadow cast over me and called my attention up. As soon as I got a look at ‘em I knew what he was— a Hidescribe. The first one I ever met. He was youthful, with big dark eyes that were narrow and sleepy most always. He had a handsome smooth skinned face with a little goatee and mustache and under his nose he wore a ring piercing. When he smiled- which he did a lot- his little canine teeth protruded as sharp and prominent as a cats. His earlobes were stretched and while he did have tattoos they were mostly visible on his bare legs. His arms and other things were unblemished back then. I knew he was a hidescribe though because of his kit. He had his poke tool hanging on a chain around his neck and his hand had the mark- the Black woad sigil. Only Hidescribes have that.

He asked if he could see what I was drawing and before I could say no he sat down beside me. He was wearing a dark blue cotton wrap as a shirt and It was the cleanest bit of clothing I’d even seen. His pants were short and equally impeccable. They were a little dusty and embellished with matching cobalt trim. His booths were laced tight and I could tell he maintained them well. His hair was cut and slicked back, I could tell he took care of his appearance in a way no highwayman would. He smelled clean like wealth.

He bumped my shoulder with his and I passed him over my book for him to thumb through.

“I don’t run into a lot of people that draw still.” He said, his voice was light and tinged with a slight people eater talk.

“Do you draw a lot?” I told him I did, but the truth was I didn’t get much chance.

“You’re really good.” He said and it felt generous. Not dishonest but certainly a kindness. He was complimenting my potential rather than my skill, I could tell.

“Are you a Hidescribe?” I asked him dumbly, looking at the mark on his hand. He lifted it to show me and smiled.

“I just finished my apprenticeship.” He said proudly.

“I came here to tattoo a big warlord -“ he nodded towards the common house.

“In there, the Wax man. You know him?”

I didn’t.

He told me his name was Paw’Caso and I shook his hand.

“Tag Devilish.” I said.

He tucked his hand into his pocket and pulled out a fancy but worn card- real paper. Then, using my book as a backing support he produced a lead piece and scribbled on the cards blank side before handing it to me. I hesitated to take it but he insisted. What a strange thing to give a stranger such a resource for nothing in return.

“Paw’Caso- Hidescribe.” The front said in fancy curly script

As I flipped it over to see the back he stood and said.

“The world needs more artists.” And with a nod of his head he left towards the common house.

On the back of the card appeared to be a little map stamped on it and he had hand drawn an X with some coordinates. I tucked it into my book and went to follow after him but he’d already disappeared inside.

When I turned to return back to my spot I heard the roar of an engine and a sputter with a metallic jingle. From around the back of the settlement, coming towards the common house was a little parade of bikes. A dozen of em’

Four raider scum on janky motor bikes with patched metal and furs for saddles all flanked one big fancy one in all chrome at the front. I recognized the bikes of the underlings- definitely the mushroom thieves-but the leader in the center, he hadn’t been there the night of the raid. Too dirty a deed I’d bet for such a shiny thing.

“Make way!” The raiders called. The one at the front with the jingling engine seemed to be the cryer for the group.

“Make way for Wax the Racer Eraser!”

As the procession came to a halt, the man on the shiny bike- the leader man stepped off. On his hip I saw the leather bag his men had stolen from us.

He spun around theatrically like a goon and shrugged his arms as he made his way backwards towards the common house. he was tall and wore armor made from bike tread and chain.

“Drinks on me boys!” He shouted and as he turned his body to enter the establishment he was met with a bat of nails right into his face.

There was an audible wet “Thwack!” And everyone went silent as his muscular body fell out of the doorway like a rag doll. It was so sudden his underlings were stunned into slack jawed disbelief.

From over Wax’s body a figure stepped. He strutted from the common house and stood over the corpse causally, letting out a single laugh through his nose. Then he whipped his bloodied bat like a fan behind him, sending the excess blood in a wet streak sprinkling the floor and splattering the wall and door way.

He was a big man with the skull of a large predatory cat over his face and a cascade of long black hair. He wore football pads adorned with dried bones. On his right shoulder was the severed head of an alligator and even above his shit kicking boots he had shin gaurds with pieces of spinal column tied to the front.

“What kind of asshole with a bounty on their head announces themselves with a fucking town crier?” He roared with laughter . Behind him blond man in a worn apron peered out with an exasperated look on his face.

“God dammit…” the blond grumbled and rubbed his nose bridge with distress. Another man pushed past and came to the armored ones side with a grin. He was handsome with heart shaped glasses and a heavy coat with a fur lined collar. He laughed hard.

“I’ll still take a drink if he’s buyin’” he said.

The underlings lost it and dropped their bikes to swarm him, I took my chance and while he swatted them all away like splatting insects I dashed in and snatched the leather waist bag.

“Fuck!” I heard the armored man call. “You little shit! That bag is mine! I’ll skin you alive!” But it was too late, I was off while he was occupied with the angry mob of raiders.

Chapter 4- 3-Death

I ran until I was out of sight and out of breath before I took refuge among the nomadic camps set up beyond the bazaar.

Once the adrenaline faded I opened the bag. Inside I found some brass cas’, meaningless trinkets and a worn piece of canvas advertising a burlesque show by someone called “The Hemptress.” The mushrooms were gone. No sign of them. I pocketed the bullshit loot and just as I shoved the canvas addy in my vest pocket I felt a hard tug on my collar.

The settlment guard had nabbed me. Before I knew it they’d dragged me back into the bazaar and I was labeled a thief- my pack taken and I was tossed into a cell behind their barracks. Turns out, they didn’t give a damn what happened out on the road but you can’t go robbin’ while inside Cleghorn’s walls.

Imagine my surprise when I found myself locked up right beside the big armored man in the cat skull and his blonde friend.

He waited until the last guard walked off then spoke to me through our shared wall, leaning over with his forearms rested through the bars, hands dangling.

“The bag,” he said “what did you do with it?”

I told him the lawmen had taken it along with my backpack and he hung his head.

“But,” I decided to venture further

“The mushrooms weren’t in it. Just a bunch of junk.” He looked back up at me with sudden interest.

“You know about the mushrooms?” He asked.

“I was there at the gathering when they were stolen.” I said. “I came here looking to get them back. You were out to do the same?”

He suddenly looked distant, I suppose he was gauging how much information to safely share with a stranger.

“Something like that.”

The blonde stood up from his seat on the floor and dusted himself off.

“Well, that settles that. The bastard probably ate all of them.” He said.

“No,” the cat skull man said with certainty.

“They’re too valuable. He definitely knew what he had and offloaded them somewhere.”

I emptied my pockets on the floor for them both to see.

“This is all he had.” I told them.

The cat skull man pointed at the folded canvas ad.

“Let me see that.” He demanded and I obliged.

“The Hemptress is a big time Chem dealer, if she’s in town I bet he sold them to her.”

The blonde man looked over his friends shoulder and reached for the ad.

“Well we DEFINITELY better pay her a visit.” He said playfully with a grin.

I introduced myself.

“3 Death.” The big man said extending his hand. I shook it and he locked eyes with me a moment.

“And I am Master chef.” the blonde said theatrically “the full menu alchemist.” He flourished his long apron and flashed me a white toothy smile.

“Where’s your other friend?” I asked.

“The one with the heart glasses.”

“That’s love Machine.” 3 death told me.

“He’s slippery, he never gets caught. Should be busting us out any minute now.”

“How?” I asked looking around at the solid bars and iron walls penning us in.

“He has his ways.” Master chef said and the two looked at each other with knowing amusement.

Chapter 5 - Love machine

We sat in those cells a couple hours and all the while we talked. It turned out 3 death also had trouble fitting in with the people eaters and they had also denied him his rite of passage. The night of the raid he set off to retake the mushrooms but rather than return them, he wanted them for his own so he could do the rite he’d been denied and meet the psilocyren on his own terms among his friends.

Master chief was a little older than us and he had lived a tough life on the road. He used to be a mercenary caught up in a far off tribal war for most of his youth. All he wanted there after was a peaceful life with lady friends and no more starving. He wanted to settle down, get supplies and cook, maybe one day get a solid camp going and make a home with a trusted group. 3 death and Love Machine were his people and they stuck together for safety and companionship. Family.

“If we can sell a few of those mushrooms” he looked at 3 death with a preemptive tone of diplomacy

“-not ALL of them, just a little, we can get supplies maybe even open a tavern or a pit stop. They’re worth a fortune to the right people.”

3 death was losing his patience and had begun to pace. When night fell and before long-true to the assumption- Love machine came strolling in like he owned the place, keys in hand.

“There’s our boy!” Master chef whooped.

“We’ll have to go out the back,” love machine said, unlocking their cell with no sense of urgency.

“Orgy started in the barracks and I don’t want them to notice I slipped away.”

3 death nodded in my direction and said

“She’s coming with us. Her name’s Tag.”

Without questioning it Love Machine unlocked my cell. I thanked him gratefully and followed after the trio with haste and sudden unquestioning loyalty.

Sure enough, sounds of ecstasy and moans of rapture could be heard from the barracks and we slipped away and back into town unnoticed.

“How did you manage that?” I whispered to Love machine with grim curiosity.

“I’m Love Machine .” He shrugged

Chapter 6- The Hemptress

The Hemptress’ den was easy to find. In the darkness her flowing netted tent glowed with the warmth of hundreds of candles and it drew wandering passersby like lonely moths.

As we stepped into the tent the smell of herbs was heavy in the air. Small clouds of chems floated above us like contented ghosts and there was an overall feeling of safety and comfort. The ground was carpeted and lush and strewn about were lounging strangers, smoking from grand brass pipes and whisper-talking amongst themselves over cups flowing with dark wine.

Seated on a large plush floor pillow towards the back of the den was the Hemptress herself, a snake draped upon her shoulders and a small entourage of attractive heathens surrounding her like a little audience.

“Hemptress,” 3 death spoke on the group’s behalf.

“We have business.”

She turned her large catlike eyes upon our group with curiosity and let a stream of smoke trail out from past her lips. I could see that her teeth appeared to be painted, shiny and black. She split the smoke with a forked tongue and motioned to her hangers-on to depart for a moment. they took their leave without question.

“…and how might I be of service?” She asked in a youthful relaxed voice.

We all took a cross legged seat on the carpet and she pushed an ornate but worn plate of fruit towards us. Her hands were dark with tattoos and her long hair draped over her shoulders in thick black locks tinged green. She had bangs cut short just above her eyebrows and thick black eyelashes.

“ We’re looking for some stolen loot we think might have passed hands around here.” 3 Death said, reaching for a plump grape apprehensively.

“Chems?” The Hemptress asked, leaning back and making herself more comfortable.

“Mushrooms.” I chimed in.

“They were stolen from the people eaters and brought here.”

She sat back up more alert.

“Psilocyren mushrooms.” She said knowingly.

“Here?”

“We think so.” 3 death continued.

By his side Master chef reached for a handful of fruit gleefully.

“They were taken by Wax the raider war lord-“

“That guys a prick.” The Hemptress chuckled.

“He came around the other night and made a mess, he’s not welcome here.” She said.

“Well, he won’t be bothering you anymore.” love machine said with amusement.

“Fuck,” 3 death said, “so he didn’t offload any of them here huh?”

“Oh no,” replied the Hemptress.

“Although he did make a donation to the King. He sent it with the caravan that left yesterday.”

3 Death and I both looked at one another.

“What king?”

“The commander.” She explained with a bit of surprise.

“… King of Brycelandia. He owed him a debt from what I understand. Paid it off with a bag of things left on the donation wagon- it’s here every month and then it heads off with the Junktown folk to the kingdom.”

3 death began to stand with urgency.

“We have to catch up to them-“

“They have a days ride ahead of you.” The Hemptress said.

“It’ll be dangerous on the road this late. You can travel with us tomorrow.” She gestured for him to sit again.

“There’s no time for that.” 3 death spat.

“ If the mushies are on their way to Brycelandia they won’t be eaten until the feast in three days time.” Hemptress explained.

“We’ll be on our way there tomorrow for that and you’re welcome to join us. It’s the time of the fallen- they’ll be celebrating.”

Master Chef lit up.

“A feast?!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh we’re, going!” He proclaimed, tugging 3 death’s by the arm and back into a sitting position.

“No way are we missing that! You guys need cooks?”

“I’m sure the king wouldn’t turn down the help-“ Hemptress said.

“Well that settles it!” Master chef said.

“Tomorrow we’re off to see the king!”

(End Part 1)

[anticidic]

I was looking into writing fanfics do you got any advice for that?

👀👀 hi there!! sure!!

The number one tip I have for getting into writing just in general, not even fanfiction, is to read. A LOT. And I don't mean only reading fanfictions. Reading published novels is really important to picking up general writing elements like pacing, story beats, characterization and character development, and how to set a mood if there's something in particular you like writing.

I just so happen to love writing angst and suspense, so I read a lot of detective noirs and horror books to learn how to pick up on conveying tension and inner turmoil, doubt, etc. etc. It also exposes you to a wider vocabulary, helps with describing senses, how to write good dialogue, all of that fun stuff.

Getting the words down in the first place is the hardest part. Editing can always come later. Some of my rough drafts for fics are ROUGH. And I mean ROUGH. Like, I have stupid placeholders all over the place, but I leave them when I'm feeling stumped and just need to move on to the next scene because I've spent too long trying to come up with something. You can always come back to a certain part later. Just get words down. Even if you think it sounds bad or makes no sense. I've sometimes written endings before I even wrote the beginning to a fic. I've written fun parts first as preparation for writing something boring or angsty.

With that out of the way, a big roadblock to writing can be motivation/inspiration. There are so many days where I come home from work wanting to write but I'm just dead to the world and don't feel like it. But sometimes the motivation to write won't always come to you. It can take days, weeks, months for that motivation to hit, so you can't always rely on it. Sometimes if you want to write, you just have to sit down and push yourself. For me, at least, getting those first few words/sentences down is always the hardest, then when I get in the groove, I can knock out like 5k words in a few hours.

But if you're REALLY not in the mood, like if you can tell you're stressed or really have things on your mind, it's best to not push it. Pushing it is more so if you're in the mindset of 'ehhh I WANNA write but I don't reaaaally feel like it' and not when you're genuinely in a bad mood or something. When I really don't want to write, I just chill out and don't push it because that can make things worse. Always take care of yourself!! It's a hobby meant to be fun!!

For inspiration or "getting in the mood" I like to listen to certain songs or playlists that fit a particular mood or fit something that I'm currently working on. I also like to scroll for hours looking at fanart, and many times has that given me the inspiration to either come up with an idea or to get back to what I was doing. Then I like reading and coming up with my own headcanons! I think that's the most fun part of fanfic, tbh. I have headcanons for my fanfics and they'll vary from one story to another depending on the setting and the characters.

Like, one story I have Dazai set in a universe where he loves sweets. Peaches, in particular. In another, he likes bitter things and drinks his coffee black. Just those tiny things.

And sometimes inspiration has hit me when I've just gotten up to get some air or gone to do dishes, or something. It's WILD when and where the muse can strike. I've had things come to me while I was showering, and sometimes while driving. So if you're struggling to get anything down on paper, sometimes walking away for a bit is the best you can do and come back later.

I also like to have my phone on me at all times with the Note app because I've had snippets come to mind that I thought would be really cool to include in my long fics or for a new oneshot, so having something you can conveniently jot your ideas down before you forget them also helps!! Any little bit counts in the long term, whether it's one word or whatever.

But yeah, fanfiction is plenty of fun, and at times it can be taxing. There may be times you have to write a boring scene for the sake of plot advancement, and other times where you just wanna throw your hands up and scream because you've been staring at a blank page for hours. But it's important to remember about having fun in the end, and taking breaks as needed for yourself. 😊 Writing fanfic has been a really rewarding experience to me, and it's been eye-opening reading stuff back from when I first started writing to now and seeing how I've improved!

[babyboywilson]

it's so lovely to see you embracing your gender <3 i was following you when you first started really questioning it i think, and to see you calling yourself a girlboy so freely is just so heartening and hopeful to me <3

NONNIE!!!! <333

I have been waiting to answer this ask until the perfect time… and that time is now.

this ask was in relation to this post:

firstly, I want to say thank you, my dear sweet nonnie <3 when I first got this ask from you, I genuinely burst into tears. to have someone like you be proud and happy for me embracing my gender means more than I can ever say. I have no words to describe how much this means to me. truly. from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being here on this journey with me and for sticking around as I have been on this self discovery of who I am and how I identify. the fact that you think it’s heartwarming and hopeful to you to see me freely call myself a girlboy means absolutely everything to me. thank you, thank you, thank you a million times. I can’t express how grateful I am to have people on here still that are so supportive and encouraging and want to see me at my most vulnerable and at my truest self. so, dear nonnie, I want to thank you again for being such a huge light and such an angel to me <3

secondly, you sent this ask around a time where I had been trying to find that part of me that felt the most comfortable with the girlboy label, and none of my current names felt like they fit that. each of my current names I use here is so attached to a she/her or a he/him set of pronouns but I didn’t have a single name that matched the girlboy she/he pronouns that I felt comfortable using and presenting myself as. I’ve spent a long time looking and thinking and searching for what felt right. and I only wanted one name for this part of me… something that was both masculine and feminine, something that felt nonbinary that could be used to capture my girlboy personality. one name for my girlboy pronouns that was solely for that.

so, introducing riley, my girlboy she/he name 💛

i have altered my bio to include my main she/her name (bex), my main he/him name (oliver), and my main girlboy name (riley). all my other names are laid out in my pinned post/about me with all their color coded and pronouns. but I thought it would be more simplistic and sleek and easier for yall to see the main names I use on my bio and if anyone wants to see my full list of names it is in my pinned post.

once again, thank you nonnie for giving me the courage and bravery to share this journey with you. your support means everything to me, and being able to introduce the name riley as my girlboy name is because of you. thank you. sending you all my love and my whole heart.

[huckleberrykai]

hueningkai ~ here's to teenage memories

pairing: nonidol!hueningkai x reader summary: you meet a sweet boy on your vacation with your friends and neither of you want to leave. genre: strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, cutie hyuka warnings: kinda sad if u squint, mentions of alcohol/drinking notes: tysm for over 100 likes on my first post 🥹 this is my first full one shot so i hope u like it <3 inspired by kiss me kiss me by 5 seconds of summer word count: 1.3k click here for my masterlist!

being with him was warm. just like the air that surrounded you as you sat together under the sunset.

"i don't wanna leave." you unintentionally said in unison, breaking out into a fit of giggles right after.

it was the final day of your vacation with your friends, although you hadn't actually spent much time with them. instead, you favoured the presence of the fluffy brown-haired boy beside you over your friends getting drunk along with his friends every night.

you met at one of your holiday resort's pool parties where your friend groups had crossed paths and hit it off immediately. being the most introverted of your respected groups, you and kai stuck together and sipped grape juice and talked in the background while your friends partied the sweet summer nights away. this progressed to leaving the parties in search of somewhere quieter, and eventually no longer attending the parties altogether, ending up in one of your hotel rooms watching anime or taking a walk on the beach.

your favourite activity was when the two of you would hop in his car and drive a little ways away, grabbing some greasy takeout and screaming out your favourite songs with the windows down. even in the moment, it felt like a memory you wanted to treasure forever. you felt like you owned the town, wind in your hair, completely free as kai looked over at you with the biggest grin on his face, trying his best to focus on the road and not on you.

both of you were leaving on the same day to head back to your busy city lives, but spending almost all your hours with a cute boy for 3 weeks straight made leaving the luxurious comfort of your resort even more difficult. kai felt the same way, although he didn't care as much for being at the resort as he did for being in your company. his friends had been telling him to ask you out since the day you met when he couldn't help but stare at you with hearts in his eyes as you danced with your friends. his feelings only grew as he got to know you.

you and your love for video games.

you and all your favourite bands, which just so happened to also be his favourite bands.

you and your lavender shampoo. his favourite scent.

kai knew tonight would be his last chance. hell you'd been hanging out for weeks and he was still too scared to even ask for your number, or even bring up the possibility of staying in contact after what he could hardly describe as a summer fling.

so with the sun setting and a bottle of grape juice, he invited you down to the beach to sit with him and bask in the last bits of sun before you're gone. giggling together and watching the sun go down could only be described as romantic, and the two of you were longing for it to be just that.

you were still laughing at something he had said when the sun was only just still visible, the pink and purple hues of the sky reflecting in your eyes. kai thought you were breathtaking.

"kiss me."

it slipped out before he could stop it, and his eyes blew wide in the realisation of what he'd said. he was about to cover for himself and reassure you that he didn't mean it- well he did. he just.. could have said it in a smoother way? but he didn't have time to process an explanation thanks to your grin and your hand pressing against his cheek. you shuffled closer to him until the side of your hip was pressed to his.

"i've been waiting for you to say that all summer."

and with that, your lips were on his. the kiss was a little clumsy at first, considering kai was basically in shock, despite being the one to ask you to kiss him. he regained his composure and kissed you back quickly, placing his own hand on your belly, rubbing it soothingly as the kiss deepened.

you tried to pull away for air, but he didn't like that one bit. in a rush of adrenaline, he plucked you from your seat in the sand and placed you on his lap, earning a small squeal as he lifted you easily. he brought his lips back to yours and smiled softly into the kiss as your hands came to rest on his firm chest, his resting comfortably on your waist.

"please tell me i'll see you again," you breathed out as you both broke away in desperate need of oxygen. "i really don't want to let you go."

kai smiled with a blush adorning his cheeks, almost offended that you'd think he wouldn't want to see you. "i don't want to let you go either. our cities aren't too far... i'll come see you!" he declared, still a little out of breath. "you're the sweetest person i've ever met, i like you so much."

"are you confessing to me right now?" you teased.

"we've been making out for the past ten minutes, if you didn't already know i like you that's on you."

you broke out into giggles again, shoving your face into his neck shyly. you breathed in his scent, letting it calm you as he pulled you closer into a proper hug. your arms circled around his larger frame and you moved to rest your forehead against his, staring into his big pretty brown eyes.

"i like you too kai." <3

----------------- bonus ✧˖° -----------------

"okay that's everything!" you chimed, finally fitting all of your friends luggage into the back of your car. they went back into their rooms to double check they hadn't left anything and you were about to do the same until-

"Y/N!!!" a familiar voice yelled, making you spin on your heels. soon enough kai was crouched in front of you, his hands on his knees as he tried to get his breath back from running. "kai what's wrong? are you okay?"

"i.. forgot.. number.." he panted the words out, not quite getting a full sentence. he pulled his phone from his pocket and wafted it towards you to get his point across.

"OH MY PHONE NUMBER! i'm so sorry, give me your phone i'll put it in!" you laughed. you didn't realise kai had been followed until you heard a vaguely familiar voice.

"you romanced them all summer and made out with them on the beach and didn't get their phone number?? tch, idiot." the boy you later learned to be beomgyu chirped up with a teasing tone. "you were right though, they are pretty," yeonjun remarked.

"shut up you guys, they were having a moment!" soobin shushed them. kai recovered with a deep breath. "sorry about them..." he gave you a shy smile and rubbed the back of his neck as you added your contact in his phone and texted yourself so you'd have his number too. "don't worry about it!" you replied with a laugh. "nice to meet you guys again, but we really should go now."

a sad expression crossed kai's face.

"we'll give you some privacy to say goodbye, see you later Y/N!" kai's other friend taehyun said kindly, juxtaposing the way he dragged the other 3 boys away roughly. they shouted their goodbyes and you waved to them before turning back to give kai your full attention. you could hear your friends walking back to the car so you made your goodbyes quick with a promise to see each other again soon and text or call as much as you could in the meantime. he gave you a boyish smile and made you seal your promise with a link of pinkies and a sweet kiss.

it had hardly been 10 minutes since he left, one of your friends offered to drive so you snuggled into the passenger seat and pulled out your phone as you set out on the journey home. there was only one notification on your phone, and it was exactly the one you wanted.

unknown number: miss you already <3

[foreverisntenough]

Just curious but have you ever thought about going back through some of your older works and adding links to items you've mentioned that aren't linked? LOVEEEE your fashion taste

Thank you for complimenting my taste level. That makes me happy. I wanted to share fashion with you all to provide a little further insight into my characters visually [and I guess subtly what I like too] 🤍🤍🤍

---

This is not directed at you anon nor is it meant with any animosity to any of my readers - just simply wanted to take this opportunity to share some comments on your question from me...

Regarding links... I've gotten told a lot that some don't work and I really am sorry. I feel so bad this is bothering readers.

I am not entirely sure how to fix this right now. Some of the links do work/ some don't. And It's not that i think you all don't deserve to see them, it's why I included links to begin with because I want to share! That said, with all the work I do on current fics and other works - I'm not sure I have the bandwidth. I'm not sure I have the time at the minute for me to go back and read all of my series and click every link to check them.

I imagine most of the links are the one's from earlier works but it could be the case for even something as current as 'Movie Night'... I just can't control when products get taken down off their sites

For now, it'd be most helpful when if someone is reading spots a bad link and they want to know about it, shoot me a quick dm message... That said, I am in no way asking my readers to do that for me but if you see one it'd be really appreciated!

Honestly I will try to see how to do this best go forward and fix any from the past eventually. I just am not totally sure how to go about this just yet.... Because if I change the items linked, the text surrounded them would have to change... and eventually those may disapear too...

Maybe I will add a quick outfit photo at the bottom of the fic? Idk. That feels disconnected because what if it's described in the first paragraph.... Feel free to send ideas....

I do have a few more thoughts unrelated to the links but related to my works and if you want to read you can... if not feel free to keep scrolling ...

First and foremost I want to clarify this is not a complaint. This is meant just to be Fie being vulnerable with my readers, not an accusation rather an opportunity for me to provide insight...

While I write because I enjoy it. The work I share is done solely for you all because I love my readers and the community we've built and in turn give and take would be really appreciated.

In saying I'm working 'for' my readers, I want to provide some context. Just from a simple google search (though everyone is different) writing 10k words, they generalize it to take two weeks to write…. And on average it takes some 40 minutes to read it... that's 0.0014% of the time I spent on it.

On Jan 31st I posted a 12.9k word chapter, on Feb 6 I posted a 13.3k word chapter, followed 5 days later with a 13.4k word chapter.... I really do put so much hard work into this. And I want to! But from ideation, character planning, character development, plot points, direction of the narrative, writing pages upon pages, and then writing scenes and scrapping them, editing them to flow, editing them to be best possible grammatically, linking items, reediting so it fits on tumblr's format.... I could go on it’s time and effort.

So please know... I really am trying so hard to deliver good work for Fie's community to enjoy. I am so sincerely sorry that sometimes I might miss something, or things like links don't work.

I can not reiterate this enough. This is not a complaint. It's just a lens into my side of things and why I appreciate my readers SO much, particularly those of you engage with my work. The effort I put in means so much more if my readers put effort into engaging with me,

I will keep working to put out content you enjoy, working on improving my writing, working on finding innovative ways to make things more engaging ,and most of all, working on making sure my community is happy here in the ForeverIsn'tEnough World.

xx FIE