#i will try to do a better job catching up with drafts

[blitzbuckz]

I did this drawing 2 months ago for @gethellbcnt / @msbuckzo after they had asked how would Blitzø doodle his mom. I was trying to be funny but when I showed them the finished piece they instantly, without hesitation, pinned it which got me bawling. When they asked why I was crying- I told them because it felt like they framed it, like a parent putting their child's drawings on a fridge. it's been months and I'm still not over this dkgjslk

[eroselless]

────────────── sommer house // 1

series summary: After starting a new job at a prestigious museum in London, you form a close friendship with Helaena Targaryen. You're surprised when she invites you to stay at her family's estate for the summer holidays. [1.7k]

[aegon targaryen x reader, modern!HOTD AU ]

masterlist

warnings: talk and description of bugs. if there's any I missed, let me know!

note: hello friends! I’m sure some of you might be a little confused seeing this coming up again. after much contemplating and many many re-reads, I decided I would rewrite what I had of moth to a flame now that I had more inspiration and motivation. for this first chapter, it’s not much different from my first draft but I removed and added a few things that I thought made the story begin flowing a lot better. thank you for the support and happy reading <3

Dashing through the rain, your coat pulled tightly around you, you navigate the bustling streets of London. The sky opened up as you were leaving the train station, drenching you instantly. You’re breathless when you reach the entrance of the museum, soaked to the bone with hair sticking to your forehead. Pausing briefly under the awning, you try to catch your breath, shaking off as much rain as you could before hurrying inside, the patter of rainfall fading behind you. 

The familiar warmth and silence of the museum envelop you, offering a stark contrast to the chaotic weather outside. The lights are dim and if you listen closely, you could swear you can hear soft music permeating the air. 

You make your way to the back of the museum, passing through employee doors and to the entomology department, where you knew Helaena would be waiting. Rounding a corner, you see you. She stands at the entrance of your shared office, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She leans against the doorframe, her free hand fiddling with the key card that hangs around her neck. It’s 5 past 9, you're not that late and her casual demeanour only makes for a comforting sight.

“Rough morning?” she asks, a grin on her lips as she entends the cup of coffee towards you. 

“Don’t even get me started,” you reply, taking the cup and making your way past her into the room. ���The tube was a nightmare. Some sort of signal failure. I’m surprised I made it at all.”

Helaena laughs, “You wouldn’t have to deal with the tube if you drove,” she teases, raising her eyebrows. Following you to your desk, she stands in front as you set your things down. You roll your eyes at her, making a face, to which she responds with a half-smirk.

You met Helaena three months ago when you first started working at the museum. After a seemingly endless job search, you happened upon one that just happened to be in a country halfway across the world. Seeing as how you fit all of the requirements, you pushed fear aside, taking a leap. You packed up what you could and made your way to London. The idea of working in another country had always captivated you, but the reality of moving hadn’t fully sunk in until you stepped off the plane. Everything felt surreal—the accents, the bustling streets, the historical buildings whispering stories of the past.

Working in the entomology department with Helaena, you spent countless hours cataloging and preserving the museum’s vast insect collection. The late nights became routine, often the two of you working late into the night, at times at each other's homes. Her companionship made the hours more bearable. Helaena quickly became more than just a colleague; she became a friend, someone you could rely on and share with. 

Clapping her hands, a wide smile now on her face, Helaena turns to you from a large cluster of boxes: "Well, you're here now, and just in time; we've got a ton to do today."

Settling into your desks, surrounded by cabinets filled with specimens and shelves lined with books and equipment, the morning passes quickly.

You take turns pulling out cases from the large boxes, a new shipment from South America, examining and cataloging each specimen. Each one is carefully inspected, labeled and documented. The vibrant colors and intricate patterns never cease to amaze you, each telling a different tale. 

As the afternoon rolls around, you find yourself leading a group of young school children through an interactive exhibit, one you spent the last week preparing with Helaena, explaining the life cycles of different insects and answering their curious questions. Their eyes widen as you show them the cases of insects, pointing out each of their intricate and unique features. Together, you carefully examine drawers of pinned needles, getting lost in the details of their iridescent shells.

The children nod as you explain different insects, jotting down notes in their small notebooks to bring back to school. Their laughter and curiosity makes the rest of the day pass quickly, their enthusiasm making even the most mundane tasks feel rewarding. 

The day winds down from there, the absence of the children making you realize how tired you’d gotten. You put the exhibits back into their boxes, making sure everything is in its place for the groups coming in tomorrow and the day after that. From the corner of your eye you can see Helaena making her way to you, rolling a cart identical to yours. There’s a thoughtful expression on her face. 

"So, any plans for the summer holidays? They're not gonna need us at all during these renovations they're doing," she inquired, pursing her lips at you.

You shake your head as you continue placing boxes onto your cart. “I would but I can’t afford to go home right now. I’ll probably just stay in London and explore the city or something.”

Helaena’s face lights up. “Why don’t you come with me to my family’s country estate? We’re having a big party for my dad’s retirement. It’ll be a nice change of pace and you can officially meet my family. They’ll adore you.”

Your lips part as you stare at her wordlessly. “Are you sure?” you asked, searching her eyes, 

Helaena waves you off, “Of course!” she exclaims, shaking her head. “"It'll be fun. Besides, it would be nice to have another girl there so I don’t have to deal with my brothers all on my own. Say you’ll come," she pleads.

The thought of spending the holidays with Helaena, surrounded by the English countryside and her family’s hospitality, race through your mind. It sent a shiver of nerves through you. You knew very little about her family, only hearing of her brothers in passing. You’d seen them in pictures she had littered around her apartment and on her facebook. You met her mother, if you can call speaking to her briefly over the phone, one night that you spent the night at Helaena’s. Her older sister and her father were a complete mystery to you, both of them a subject she didn’t ever really talk about. 

She bats her eyes at you, gently wrapping her arms around yours. You let out a sigh, breaking out in a smile. “Alright, I’ll come.” you laugh, and she throws her arms around your shoulders. 

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's a few days later you find yourself tossing clothes at Helaena. The afternoon sunlight streams through the window behind her. Her hair is loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders. It looks as if it were glowing. She sits on your bed, gingerly folding different shirts and pants into your bag. Rejected piles of clothes are strewn across your bed, shoes littering the floor and small packing cubes full of toiletries and makeup sit next to your gradually filling case. 

“What about this?” you ask. Swaying slightly, you hold a dress up to your chest. It’s red and covered in polka dots with a large white bow cinching the middle. Her face stays in a slight grimace, shaking her head and laughing.

"We need to get you some new dresses; these look like they belong in a history museum," she says with a playful smile. You laugh, shoving her shoulder as you tuck the dress back into the wardrobe. She pulls a knitted sweater from the edge of your bed and tucks it tightly into your bag.

Once your outfits are sufficiently coordinated and your essentials pulled into packing cubes, Helaena helps you pack them into your suitcase, ensuring you have enough of everything you need for your stay. She speaks up when you struggle with the zipper. 

“So, I know you’ve sort of met Mum and you’ll be meeting everyone else while we're there.  My sister is even coming with her children. A fair warning, though having everyone there can be a bit … intense but they’re good people.”

You note her hesitation. “Intense how?”

Helana shrugs, trying to downplay her words. “It can get a little overwhelming, is all. But you’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

You nod an ok at her, climbing on and bouncing on your suitcase to press it shut with your knees. She joins you, twisting with you as you begin to pull on the zipper. 

"The place’s been in my family for generations. There’s lots of history there, places you could get lost in. You’ll really love it.”

You struggle for a little bit, pulling the zip a little more to fully close the case before sitting on it, breathless. 

"What was it like, growing up in a place like that?" you ask, looking up at her as she takes her spot back on the edge of your bed. 

Helaena smiles, a distant look in her eyes. It's a smile that has a drop of sadness behind it. "It was magical. There are all these secret passages and hidden rooms. We used to play hide and seek for hours.” 

She traces a pattern on your quilt as she continues speaking. “We each got puppies at some point and when we’d pretend we were princes and princesses, my brothers would pretend they were dragons.” 

There's a bittersweet expression on her face as she recounts the memory. It's not an expression you're used to seeing on her face but it’s one she seems to fall back to every time she speaks of home. You can’t help but to be curious about it but you always stop before prying or saying anything. You smile, reaching out a hand and placing it on her knee. It pulls her out of her momentary daze and she flashes a smile at you. A mixture of nerves and anticipation fill you again. "I can’t wait," you say with a soft sigh.

Helaena looks at you, her eyes sparkling. "You're going to love it. It’s like stepping back in time. Just be prepared for a bit of drama; there’s always something happening when we're all together."

"Drama?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you know, family stuff. Arguments, misunderstandings, that sort of thing. But it’s all part of the charm," she says with a wink.

You laugh, feeling a bit more at ease. "Well, I’m ready for anything."

With the suitcase finally zipped, you both collapse onto the bed, giggling. Helaena turns to you, her expression softening. "I’m really glad you’re coming. It’s going to be a summer to remember."

If you want to support my writing you can buy me a coffee over on Ko-Fi <3

[i-write-sometimes-maybe]

Obsessed- Lady Lesso x EverReader!

Synopsis: Lesso has this thing, but no one knows. Not even you…

Word Count: 643

Warnings: Dark!Lesso, no smut, non-consensual stalking, readers gender isn’t mentioned. (Lmk if there’s anything else!)

A/n: (You can kinda see her tie pin in this gif, which is not mine btw) Okay, yes, this is short asf. I’m sorry! I really wanted to get something out while I’m working on this other smutshot (that includes working up the courage to do it too 😅) I figured something was better than nothing.? I legit have had this forsaken OneShot in the drafts at 5-6k words FOR A YEAR NOW GUYS. I’m trying! I want you guys to have it too. I’m also SO sorry to the few requests I’ve gotten, believe me I have seen them and I do plan on writing them! I’m just once again working two jobs and I’m also plainly in the dumps with writing motivation :/. I’m working on it 🫶🏻.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Obsession. It's a funny thing really. It usually builds from innocence, a simple crush maybe.

But then, it spirals.

Though, the obsessor most times doesn't realize the extent of said obsession.

Leonora Lesso wouldn't necessarily deny the fact she obsessed, of course, unless, she was asked.

It wasn't her fault. It was yours.

Yeah, that's it. Your fault.

You.

You with your bright smiles and warm being.

It really should make the Never woman feel sick.

But she watches you with a subtle warm fuzzy feeling, like how she would think it would feel if you made her soul smile.

Watching you at meal times with Dovey, laughing at whatever the conversation was.

She found satisfaction in watching you, joy almost, watching you teach. The passion you held was quite similar to hers, though you were an Ever.

And even now, her watching you from behind your balcony door. Enjoying the feeling that fills her as she watches you undress from the day.

No, she wouldn't say she's obsessed. Enthralled, sure.

Enthralled at the possibility you could see her in the reflection of the mirror you were standing in. Enthralled by your possible reaction if she chooses to make herself known, or maybe, if you were to catch her.

She often wonders what your reaction would be.

After all, she does this almost nightly.

How you haven't seen her at least once in the fortnight, Lesso wasn't sure. But she loved to think of the idea that you were aware of her watching you, and you enjoyed it as much as she did.

She continues to wait in the shadows, watching how you don't skip a single part of your routine.

She'd come to learn that you liked everything in a certain way, down to your showers.

As you climbed under the covers, your nightly steps coming to end, she never strayed.

She usually liked to stay until she knew you were asleep, loving how peaceful you looked.

Normally, it was enough.

Being 20 feet from you, a glass door in the way, it was close enough.

Normally.

Well, who’s to say what’s normal and what’s not.

Once again, you were peacefully in your slumber while Lesso hadn’t moved a hair.

But she needed more.

She carefully took her tie pin from the knot that she frequently adorned, using it to swiftly pick the door you always made sure to lock.

The first step into the unfamiliar, yet very familiar, space was enthralling for her. Your true scent, unbothered and unedited, hitting her nostrils so strong to the point she’s sure she would’ve faltered if she cared to pay attention.

But as always, her attention was elsewhere.

Neither her heels or her cane made their signature click as she entered, the carpet working in her favor.

Slowly she walked up to your bed, standing at the end and getting lost in your serenity.

But as realization set, she decided she wanted to learn more. No, needed to learn more about you.

Her painted nails just barely scraped the surface of your duvet as she slowly moved onto your bedside table.

Noticing the new book you recently picked up, she made a mentally note to look into it later.

She never stayed in one spot for too long, too afraid it would bring her a welcoming she can’t ignore.

Her final spot was your vanity.

The very same one you sat yourself at just mere moments ago.

Sitting in the same spot as you previously had could’ve made her head spin, she had to know that her heart was pounding, if she paid any mind to it.

But her mind was elsewhere.

Her eyes and her mind were on you, just like before.

But sitting there, seeing you, smelling you, feeling you….

She couldn’t help but think, just how much fun she’d have with you.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @sgelessoanddoveykissing @hxzxrdous

(Okay, I’m def missing people on this list and if you’re one of them please leave a comment! 🫶🏻🫶🏻)

Part 2 maybe??

[juuuulez]

📰 | richie jerimovich x reader ; “Princess,” part two.

📖 -> part one.

info: Richie Jerimovich x reader, no use of (y/n), allusions to sex, kissing, smoking weed, alcohol consumption, overall generally pretty fluffy, Richie wants what’s best for you, king of self control bro is trying so hard.

omg this has been sitting in my drafts for like a week SORRY. but anyway i think this was sweet and is so richie’s growth and awareness era i think he’s trying so hard and is doing an amazing job.

let me know what you all think 😝😝

The floorboards are cold, where you’re sitting against Richie’s door, waiting for him to return from work. 10pm sharp? Yeah, right. Though, you’ve never known Richie to be a punctual man, so it doesn’t bother you that much. Anybody else, and you would have left. But maybe you’ve missed Richie more than you’ll let on.

The 6 pack of beers has already diminished, a half-drunk bottle nursed in your hand, the liquid warming with the air. Heavy footsteps are heard from the stairwell, promoting your head to tilt towards the corridor.

10:23pm, there he is.

Before he’s even approached you, he’s apologising, fumbling with a set of keys inside the pocket of a leather jacket. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, princess,” Richie is cursing. “Carmy was bein’ a massive bitch, and apparently there’s a gas leak ‘n—“

The rambling stops, Richie assumably coming to his senses as he eyes you, sitting on the floor, drink in hand.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?” He relents, sounding uncharacteristically guilty.

So you simmer on the thought, rolling it around like a pearl, sucking on the inside of your teeth. Finally, you come to stand, not reaching anywhere near Richie’s height.

“Mr. New York?”

A grin breaks out on Richie’s face at your clarification, tone questioning despite the fact that you’re sure, that you remember all of those little conversations. About a dozen people, only made real in your brain, courtesy of Richie’s overzealous descriptions of every little problem in his life.

Sure, he was just your dealer. Just a guy you hooked up with occasionally. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t listen, right?

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He grumbles in approval, a spare hand coming to rub the back of your neck. It’s an intoxicating movement, makes your body warm and fuzzy, a pleasant shiver running down your spine.

Richie unlocks the door, the jangling of keys sounding through the hallway. Always the gentleman, he holds it open for you, a smug grin on his face.

“Already made a dent in the beer. Couldn’t wait,” You muse, fingers hooking into the cardboard handle of the 6-pack. “Y’know, this better be worth it.”

“You’ll be right.” Richie dismisses, his eyes following your form as you saunter into his apartment, already so familiar with the place.

He dumps a plastic bag down on the floor, the clutter making an indistinct noise you don’t care to expand on. The beers are placed on the table, and you’re quick to settle into his couch, shoes discarded and knees tucked to your chest.

“So…” Richie begins, coming to stand next to the couch. “Did you want some food?”

Your gaze flickers to him, soaking in how he seems to be a little nervous, a little hesitant. So different. “You know what I’m here for, Richard.”

“Jesus Christ. Don’t call me that, it’s weird.” He outwardly cringes at your words, retreating further down the hallway to retrieve the subject of the night.

In your eyes, it was a little amusing. He’d changed, certainly, but you understood why. Maybe Richie’s party days were over, but you’re certainly weren’t.

Your hands find the TV remote, switching it on. It’s been left to Netflix, some kids cartoon looping in the background from when Eva was here, the colours bright and characters animated. Clicking your tongue, you call out to Richie. “Big fan?”

He comes down the hall a few seconds later, nodding towards the TV. “What, of Adventure Time? Fuck yeah. Shits awesome.”

It makes your face split into a grin, a notion he catches onto. Richie leans down, sitting next to you with a joint poised between large fingers, which you eagerly take. Fetching the lighter, you spark the flame, taking a deep inhale to burn the bud inside.

The lighter falls from your hands, Richie scooping it up to light his own cigarette.

“Blazing tonight?” You ask him, a curious lilt to your voice. It’s not often he doesn’t jump at the opportunity.

“Nah,” Richie waves his hand. “Not much, at least.”

Rolling your eyes, you relax back into the couch. “Party pooper.”

Regardless of the quip, Richie’s big hands find your legs, wrapping around your calves and pulling you further down the couch, so you’re lying on your back, and your legs spread across his lap. They rest there, warm over your jeans.

The joint doesn’t last long, you’re antsy to get it through your system. The next one is cradled a little slower, where Richie even takes a few drags, though you can tell he isn’t hungry for it like you are. Cartoons buzz in the background, a distant noise, and the beers quickly disappear leaving you in a giggly stupor.

You end up in a new position: Richie is lying on the couch, his firm chest against your own, with your chin propped up against him. There’s a grin on your face, chewing down on chapped lips, looking as pleased as a goddamn cat. His hands are planted on you, warm over your back, holding you firm and close. Your fingers fiddle with the gold chain around his neck, tugging and twisting it absentmindedly.

Then, his mouth is warm on yours. Hot tongue sliding against hot tongue. It’s unclear who initiated it, but that doesn’t matter, because he tastes like mint gum and nicotine. You probably taste like weed, but Richie doesn’t care, for it’s easy to get lost in the sensation of you. Like a familiar pattern, someone he can come back to when all else fails, someone who he doesn’t need to try for. You’ll always have him.

Your hands travel down the expanse of his torso, finding the band of his sweats. The fabric is soft and you savour the sensation for a moment, every piece of stimuli feeling that much better, like a prickly fog has overcome your mind and makes your body tingle. You press further, dipping your fingers under the band, which makes Richie grunt into your mouth.

“C’mon,” He mumbled against your lips. “Hands off, sweetheart.”

It takes so much effort to pull away, faces inches from each other. And fuck, your eyes are red, glassy and lidded as you stare at him with a mix of satisfaction and tired lust. It’s sleepy and quiet and feels perfect.

“What’s up?” You ask him.

But he just shakes his head, blue eyes still studying you. “Nothin’ s’up.”

You’re sceptical, of course, because when has Richie ever refused sex? Not with you, at least, and certainly not like this. The thought doesn’t simmer long in your mind, because the grin is soon returning, with a poorly suppressed giggle as you shift a little atop him, pressing your hips down against his own.

“I can feel you.” You tell him, utterly amused by the notion of his arousal beneath you. The sweats do little to contain it, and you can tell that Richie finds the situation enticing, his length hardening slowly under the heat of your clothed body.

The giggles don’t stop, seeming to have hit at the worst possible time, but you feel completely smitten. Your head ducks down against his shoulder, to which Richie pats over your hair, holding you close. He’s breathing steadily, one… two… three…, all in an effort to not flip you into the couch and fuck you right there.

“I know, baby. It’s ‘cus ya fuckin sexy,” He mumbles into your hair, which only provokes another round of snorted giggles from your form. “Trust me, I’d give the world to fuck you right now, princess. You wouldn’t be able to walk for a goddamn week.”

You look back up at him, still smiling and happy, albeit a little sleepy. Everything is blurred and fuzzy, and you can imagine how good the sex would feel right now. “Then do it.” You urge him, tongue darting out to wet your lips, despite the dry state of your mouth.

And it’s so goddamn hard to resist. Because right now, it’s all Richie wants to do. But there’s this stupid voice in his head, telling him no: that’s a terrible idea, he can’t do you like this anymore. He doesn’t want to be the person you come to for drugs or sex. That’s not healthy, and it won’t stop if he keeps indulging in it.

Even if he can feel your clothed breasts against his body, and his dick twitches with each of your words, cursing his mind for being such a massive cock-block.

“Hey, you can barely keep your eyes open.” He points out, brushing back your hair to get a better look at your face. It’s true, you’re drunk and high, drowsy eyes blinking up at him with a smug little grin.

You must know that, too, for you rest your head back down on his chest. If he won’t fuck you, at least you’ll probably have the best nap of your life like this. His heartbeat is audible from this position, and you press your nose closer into his shirt, inhaling a deep breath of musk and man and smoke. “You’re just lucky this is really good weed,” You mumble with a deep sigh, “But you owe me a lay.”

“I know princess,” Richie agrees, his voice low and so close to your ear, the only thing you’re truely aware of anymore. “Maybe.. maybe I’ll take you out, huh?”

The suggestion has his mouth going dry, and not from the weed. It’s slightly timid in the way his tone drops an octave, a tad quieter, simultaneously hoping you’re too stoned to remember but also lucid enough to answer honestly.

“What, like a fuckin’ date? Gross.” You shoot back, the words crude and playful. Your discontent is betrayed by the grin on your face, nose scrunched up in amusement, to which Richie pinches at your ass through those jeans.

“Not gross. I’d be a goddamn gentleman.” He pressed back, conscience lightened at how easily you take the suggestion. His hands soothe the curve of your back, following a trail up your spine, and back down.

It’s calming, and with your eyes closed, it feels like you’re near floating. The distance between you and Richie is nonexistent, like you’ve melted into him, a heaviness over your mind that feels like a weighted blanket.

“M’kay,” You manage to mumble with the last of your awareness. “I’ll hold you to it.”

And he lets it go, for now. Because that’s a positive answer, and you’re practically falling asleep. Richie is glad you can’t see his smile, how happy that idea makes him, the mental image of taking you out like a regular couple. Maybe he’ll wear his nice dress shirt, a tie if you’re lucky, and take you to some restaurant. Bore you with his stupid stories and have a glass of wine, and then, take you home… give you the night you deserve, something calm and loving and (most importantly) sex you’d actually remember in the morning.

You fall asleep on his chest, dreaming of the same thing.

[cynthiav06]

With Percy, we know that he hates going to school and his goals don’t really line up with Annabeth’s, but Annabeth is kind of forcing him to do it with her because he can’t say no to her. Say Rick didn’t make Annabeth Percy’s entire personality, what do you think he would’ve done in the mortal world rather than go to university?

I was checking my drafts cause I am trying to catch up on all the asks in my inbox ( as I said in one of my earlier posts I was in middle of a medical situation so I have at least a month of backlog) and found this draft.

The funny thing is I had already written most of the post in the draft version, and this ask wasn't even being displayed in my inbox, so I was very confused as to when it was from.

But it's such a good prompt and a sort of controversial question in the fandom, so I wanted to post it asap.

Percy doesn't like studies, but he knows the importance of it, so I am sure he will finish his initial college, probably either in the science or arts section. We know at one point he got better grades than Annabeth at one point so he certainly isn't quitting studies and doing way better than what people expect. He also wouldn't like just staying at home and doing nothing (I am looking at certain Percabeth stans here), so he definitely would be doing one job or another.

1.

I don't think he would study marine biology like most believe. After a conversation I had with someone who had taken the course, I am convinced Percy wouldn't like it. It's heavily based on chemistry, and we know how much Percy is affected by sea creatures being mistreated or caged, so having to study marine biology wouldn't really be something he would choose.

2.

An interesting twist would be if he chose to be a writer like his mother.

We all know that Percy writes or at least dictates and narrates the first five books, which are written and narrated entirely from his perspective. Moreover, there are books on Percy just narrating his own sarcastic takes on Greek gods and Greek heroes. What if he did actually catalogue his own adventures in those books as a sort of manual for other demigods on how to deal with certain monsters and gods and such.

Through Percy's thoughts, even as 12 years old, we can certainly say he has advanced vocabulary despite being dyslexic and given how much he admires Sally, why wouldn't he be interested in following her footsteps. Sure, he has trouble reading, but that's not to say he wouldn't love expressing his thoughts through humorous retelling of his own adventures which he can pass as fiction to normal readers but actual experiences in demigod world. Who doesn't want to know the exploits of Percy Jackson?

Plus, it's a good money hack. And don't for a second tell me he wouldn't. Sally petrified Gabe, and then they sold his statute to a museum as a sculpture and earned money off of that. So Sally would definitely encourage it, and Percy would even follow through on it just for shits and giggles and the added benefit of helping demigods and earning money.

[I literally want this to happen just for the Godly reactions. I am all for god slander, especially Zeus slander. Poseidon would be half laughing at the book and half worried cause of the sheer catastrophes his son seems to fall into almost on a daily basis.

Apollo would be having a grand time, and Hermes will be half depressed and half impressed throughout. Overall, it would be hilarious all around, and it might finally make the gods feel a bit more accountable . It's literally the Reading Percy Jackson Series trope, and that's always fun.]

3.

One other option is that Percy will get into environmental preservation, specifically the protection of Rivers and Seas from pollution by actively involving himself and others in its cleanliness and purification. He would also run Beach cleanliness programs.

I think he and Grover would become environmental activists and would definitely get into preserving forest areas and other places where nature spirits dwell frequently. I can see them doing it a lot, long-term wise, too.

4.

I think he would kind of like marine explorations, but that might cause his powers to be somewhat exposed, so he might not do that, but it's a possibility.

That's all I can think of. I would like to hear everyone else's opinions on this.

[jojo-schmo]

hi jojo! im just wondering but ive been wanting to make a comic for a little while but im not too sure where to start 😅. i really love your style of art and your forgotten land roleswap, and i was wondering if you had any tips for beginners?

Hello, hello! Thank you for enjoying my Forgotten Land Roleswap comic, it means a lot! <3

I'm very honored that people have been asking me for tips and advice. All of this is coming from a hobbyist who draws these comics purely for fun outside of my regular day job. Some of my methods would probably deal psychic damage to a professional, LOL. But I'm more than happy to share some things I've personally learned! :)

First of all, the book, "Understanding Comics" by Scott McCloud ROCKS. It literally gave me a new dimension to understand the medium of comics and how it presents ideas and emotions to readers! And I haven't even had the chance to finish it all the way! I'm very happy I own a copy and I recommend having one of your own if you can, but it's archived here if you want to read it :D

I also like analyzing other comics and thinking about how they get information across to me as a reader. It's helped me learn more effective ways to visually tell a story, like what to include in a frame, how zooming in or out affects the feeling from the panel, maybe building a scene by focusing on other stuff if someone is talking a lot... etc.

ANYWAYS-! Some other tips I've learned through my personal experience-

I had to overcome a lot of negative self-talk in order to tackle a huge comic project like this and stay committed. I was a pretty severe self-deprecator for most of my life so far, and getting help has allowed me to catch myself when I'm slipping back into those habits, look in the mirror, and go, "NO, JOJO! You pour your heart into what you make and that is a wonderful thing! You are appreciated and loved and you deserve to have fun making something you are passionate about!!" Some examples of the negative self-talk I catch myself in....

"I'm a noob at writing and making a story interesting... What's the point of even trying?"

When it comes to starting a project, whether it's 2 pages or 2000 pages, is to just jump in and start! It's okay to be a little insecure or nervous about your technical art skills, writing skills, etc... But writing a "bad" scene is better than no scene- because you can always edit a "bad" scene down the line, but what can you do with nothing? Nothing!! I also put "bad" in quotation marks because I am trying to use that term less, and instead call them "early drafts." or "works in progress."

The first Roleswap scene I fleshed-out was the first Bandee boss fight, in May 2022. I made this drawing on an impulse, getting my ideas down on the page without thinking about the technical stuff like comic panel borders. I consider it like a "pilot episode" almost, haha. The final project is going to be very different from how things play out here. But it got me interested in the concept and excited to see where I could take it, and I made the decision to commit to an entire game plot's worth of AU comics!!

Also, what's the point in trying you ask? The point is to have fun! Making a fan comic in my free time means I don't have restrictions like deadlines, nobody's telling me what I can and can't write, and I can make the story as long or as short as I want! I have full control, which means the world I'm writing is all mine to create! Yes, with a fan comic there is a pre-established world with existing characters. But a universe like Kirby has enough open-ended concepts for people to take basic concepts in the world and take them to whole new levels! I think that's why there are so many amazing fan interpretations of Kirby characters and OCs. The rules are so vague, you can just make up your own a lot of the time!! And it's a wonderful exercise to learn skills for someday building an original world with all original characters from scratch! Magical!!!

"I'm not good enough to make a comic. I don't understand perspective or color and other stuff. Anything I make will look bad.

I once read a two panel comic on here. I can't find it anymore but I remember most of it. First panel showed the artist looking at what they're drawing on their tablet, looking defeated and sad. "Man, I don't even know how to draw this....."The next panel was like them smiling and shrugging, I think rainbows and sparkles were coming out of their tablet, ".....I GUESS I'LL JUST HAVE TO DRAW IT SHITTY!! :D "

IF ANYONE KNOWS THIS COMIC I'M REFERENCING, PLEASE TELL ME AND I'LL LINK IT!!! Because it permanently and positively changed my brain chemistry.

No kidding, making the decision to just do my best even if it's not perfect, helped me a LOT. I was always waiting to "reach a certain level" to tackle a huge project because I felt like I'd never do it justice at my current state. Except I had been telling myself that kind of stuff for years and I still didn't start any projects!!

So the day I said, "Oh well! If I draw backgrounds shitty, then it is what it is! I'll learn from it and draw the next background a little better," Was the day I could commit fully to the project. I'll keep studying how to draw them better for my own benefit, but I won't let my skill issues stop me from even trying!

And for my limited confidence in full-color art, I solved that by making the comic in black and white with no-to-minimal shading lolol. Because I can only address one skill issue at a time before it takes me 25 years to finish this HAHAHA.

It saves a BUNCH of time to work with skill issues rather than against them! Because at least experience is gained in other ways, and who knows, maybe that new knowledge will help address the skill issues someday! So identifying your personal skill issues and deciding which one to try to grow stronger, and which one to work around, could help with big projects!

"Nobody will read this. I'm going to put months or years of my life into a dumb little thing nobody will even care about."

Learning how to draw for my own enjoyment instead of somebody else's was one of the biggest breakthroughs I ever made. Enjoying the feeling of being challenged artistically and just doing my best, even if it's not technically perfect, is the reason why I was even able to start this!

And just because someone doesn't directly like, comment or whatever on a post doesn't mean nobody saw it! I used to get really down on myself for the lack of engagement on my art on other websites.

I was a lurker for pretty much my entire teenage years and never posted my own stuff or commented much. But that didn't take away the fact that I really enjoyed the things I saw online. Those positive feelings were real to me, even when I didn't know how to articulate it in words. Granted, I grew up into a Words of Affirmation main, and I use words to tell people the positive things I think about them as much as I can! But I know not everyone prefers words to express themselves. So I think about the people that I don't know enjoy my work- that just because I don't see it doesn't mean I didn't make a positive impact on someone by sharing my stories.

THIS IS GETTING LONG-- UHHH, STORY TIPS!!

If you work best on technology, start building the story in a Notes app, or a Google Doc! If you work best with pen and paper, start a notebook and rearrange stuff as you need to!

Or if you're chaotic like me, a mix of tech and paper!! I bought a notebook with ring binding so I can remove and rearrange pages of drafts as much as I wanted to! Like here's two very rough concept pages of one Chapter 1 scene made months apart.

I'd say planning out the biggest basic plot points and then filling in between as I went was most helpful! I also have separate notes for character motivations, important story-changing events, etc... So I can have my own reference when I'm writing new scenes!

Okay this was a lot, sorry about the yapping! Hopefully it helps even a tiny bit. If you have any specific questions I'm happy to talk about my experience in the creation process! Or elaborate on anything I said above.

And finally, because I'm not a professional there are probably plenty of other tactics that could work better for some people. My ADHD probably doesn't help with the chaos of my process either, HAHA. But thank you for reading this far and enjoying the peek into the rainbow glitter and soap bubbles that inhabit the right side of my brain, heehee.

[sxtvrns]

purity and its presence in growth

🎶 now playing: my heart it beats for you - grentperez

P: Soul (Haku Shota) x Fem!Reader

S: Moving to Korea in the peak of your adolesence isn't easy. You just happened to be there to help. How can he miss you so much even though you only knew each other for an hour? Maybe exchanging numbers was a better idea than he thought.

C: fluff, cute moments, inaccuracy, brainrot, baby p1ece don't slander me, needed to get this into my drafts immediately, kinda sloppy, drabble, puppy love, longer than it should be

N: Y/N is your first name, L/N is your last name. i saw somewhere online that said soul moved to korea when he was 13 for fnc and somehow this idea began to brew in the deep depths of my strange brain. im a little new to piwon so if i get something wrong im sorry :P any ages mentioned are korean age, not international. his name means like 'child with a pure soul' so thats why the title sounds so poetic but okay enjoy the potato child content

view the rest of the conversations ☆彡

please interact if you enjoy!

After the almost 3 hour flight to Incheon, Shota stands in the airport mindlessly, staring at his phone and trying to resist the urge to call his mom. Though he knew that she'd pick up in a heartbeat if he did, he suddenly had a rush of independence surge through his veins when he stepped off the plane, telling himself every day was gonna be lonesome and that he'd have to learn how to get around. It wasn't until he got near the exit that he realized he had no idea what to do.

He should ask someone. There was a high chance quite a few people on that flight could also speak Japanese, but even so, he couldn't muster up the courage to talk to anybody. So he stood awkwardly, out of the way, watching all the people walk by and glance at him periodically.

He'd been studying Korean during his break time at school while at home in Japan, but he was afraid he'd say something wrong and embarass himself.

His eyes wandered amongst the people, and past the crowd of tall adults, there was you. A girl, who looked around his age, spacing out by some suitcases while some other adults, probably your parents, were talking to the clerks at the service deck. He took a deep breath, dragging his suitcases along with him as he shuffled past the bustling crowd and up to you.

"Excuse me." He mutters, catching your attention. "I need... to go... to this place. I.... don't know how." Your head tilts a little, confused while the cogs begin to turn in your head while he shows you the address. "You need a ride?" He nods. "Well, there's the railroad, but maybe a taxi can get you there faster..."

Now he's the confused one. "Could you... speak... slower?"

"Do you understand Korean?" You ask. He gestures with his fingers almost pinched together, meaning a little. "What other languages do you speak?"

"Japanese."

You smile. "If I'd known that, I would've answered in it then." You say, switching tongues so smoothly Shota's brain nearly fails to comprehend what just happened. "Where are your parents? Mine are taking too long at the desk."

"I came alone. My mom might come in the next few days to help me with moving. And send me off.”

"You and your mom are moving here? What about your dad?"

"No, I'm moving here. Alone. Just me. For work." You eye him and the two suitcases at both of his sides. "You look my age. How do you already have a job?"

"Um... I'm a trainee." Your eyes widen as you begin to nod, shocked. "Really? Already?" He nods as your eyes observe him again. "Cool. That's- wow, okay..." You struggle to finish your sentence, cutting yourself off. "Right, you need to get around- okay. Um, you could follow me. I know how to get the one way passes. Do you have money?" He nods. You begin to walk away as he trails behind you, following you to some sort of kiosk.

Guiding him through purchasing a pass, your parents meet with you by the railway, scolding you for walking off without informing them first before stepping on and finding seats on the train. The boy sits down next to you in the window seat, staring out at the scenery for the first time. "You could have taken a taxi, but I felt like I should've stayed with you. Y'know, so I can tell you more about how to get around and stuff."

"Thank you, by the way. I appreciate this. I think I would've gotten run over without you." He jokes lightheartedly. "No problem. I suddenly felt nice for once, so you're lucky you caught me at a good time." You send him the same energy, both of you laughing as the train begins to move. "When you get off with us, you can ask for a taxi, they'll drive you to the exact address. I’m sure you already know that, though." You add, him nodding before leaning fully back against the chair.

"What's your name?"

The question catches him off guard, staring at your awaiting face, almost forgetting to answer.

"Shota."

The way he introduces himself to you makes you smile. "L/N. Nice to meet you. It's nice having someone to talk to at my age that speaks my mother tongue. Even if all we do is just sit here and pass out while waiting to arrive." Your matching humour is something that sticks out to Shota, one that he likes laughing along to. "It must be scary, flying here alone and having to figure things out on your own. Especially with how young you are. I hope you'll do okay when we part ways."

"I'm still here for now. What are you and your family doing here?" He changes the topic, not wanting to think about you having to leave him so soon. "My dad's side of the family is Korean, so we come here often to visit them. We're considering moving here, since their side is trying to convince me to sign up for a career in modelling. They always say I 'have the visuals', which I don't see, but it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Don't forget me when you're famous." Shota says.

"I could say the same for you, Mr. Trainee. You'll make it far, I bet. I'm looking forward to your debut already."

"And I'm looking forward to seeing you on the billboards." You both smile at each other, a brief moment of silence settling between you two. Shota feels a tap on the side of his arm, head turning to look at you. You hold your phone towards him, the keypad open and empty. "Is it okay if we exchange numbers? This may be the only time we ever see each other, and I like talking to you. And you can text me if you ever need anything. I respond very quickly." Your attempt at convincing him was not needed, as he took your phone out of your hands swiftly and punched his number in. You did the same for his phone when he handed it to you, creating your contact for him.

L/N (ㆁωㆁ)

You write your name in Kanji for him, hearing him huff after you hand back his phone. You couldn't see the soft smile that adorned his face after seeing the contact name you set for yourself, as your eyes were already beginning to shut and send you into a deep sleep. For the rest of the ride, Shota looks out the window and all the buildings they pass by. Feeling a light weight against his arm, his gaze moves to check.

Your head rests against his arm, Shota listening carefully and hearing soft, deep breaths come from you. At first, he nearly freezes, but forgets about it and relaxes, letting you doze against his arm, checking on you periodically until the train reaches your stop.

Your parents are the first to see you two in that position, and while Shota's first instict is to panic and apologize, the idea quickly goes away, a smile on your mom's face as she shakes you gently to wake you up. When you first open your eyes, you see your mom, then turn to see Shota staring at you, nearly leaning against the window. You slowly begin to put the pieces together, embarrassed when coming to the correct conclusion.

When you wave as his taxi departs from the train station, reality dawns upon him. He’s alone, and he’ll have to figure out more than just how to get around since you’re gone now. He didn’t want to have to depend on you and annoy you all the time, so he vowed to himself that he’d learn and teach himself, along with the help of his fellow group members.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

After Shota settled into the dorm and was toured around headquarters, the feeling of lying in bed suddenly felt more desirable than he thought it’d ever be. It’s been a few days since he parted ways with you, and he was hesitant to text you for some unknown reason.

He stared at your open empty message box for a while, spacing out until his phone starts buzzing in his hand. He reads your name on the screen, realizing you were calling him. He sits up, still in shock at the timing that he almost forgets to answer.

“Hello?” He greets, almost unsure. “Shota! How are you? Sorry I haven’t texted or anything, I’ve been having a lot of meetings with my family and stuff.” He’s frozen in place at the sound of your voice, so gleeful than how you first met. “No, it’s okay. I spent the last few days settling in so it’s fine.”

“Are you busy right now? Am I calling at a bad time?”

“No.”

“Are you okay? You sound nervous.”

He sits there for a moment, taking a deep breath before responding.

“I kinda miss you.” It’s embarrassing for him to admit, but he really does. “Oh.” He hears you mutter over the phone, probably unaware that he heard. “I miss you too, Shota. It sounds strange, but I do get worried about you sometimes. But the fact you picked up the phone is assurance that you’re okay, so…”

“It’s a bit hard when you aren’t around, y’know? Like, I don’t know, maybe it’s because you can speak Japanese and I’m not afraid of messing up in front of you because I can speak my home language, but it’s hard to talk to other people. Even my groupmates. I can understand what they’re saying, but I’m too nervous to mess up to even say anything to them.”

“Well, you can’t get better at speaking if you don’t speak at all. It’s okay to make mistakes, Shota. I made a lot when I was learning too. At least you try.”

“Kee– I mean, one of my group members is teaching me. He had to learn it too.”

“So you’re both learning together! That’s good, you both share learning experiences. I’d love to teach you, but it’s kinda hard over call.”

“But it’s possible?”

“Yeah.”

He ponders for a moment before coming up with an idea. “I have a laptop. We can video call when I’m not busy.”

“Really? Are you okay with it?”

“I’m the one that asked.”

“Do you think we can call… for non-lesson purposes? Y’know, just to talk?”

He huffs, and thought you don’t see it, you hear a smile in his tone. “Of course. I’d really like that.”

The door to their room opens, Jongseob entering. “Hi Soul.” Apparently his voice picks up on the microphone, because you ask, “Who’s that?”

“My roommate. One of them.”

“Who are you talking to?” Jongseob asks, looking over at Soul. “My friend.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“We met at the...” Soul knows the word, but is worried he’ll say it wrong.

“Airport.” You find the word for him, saying it into his ear.

“…Airport. She helped me.” He finishes his sentence with your help.

“She? Aren’t we not allowed to talk to girls as trainees?”

“We aren’t?”

“I think so? Maybe I’m thinking of something else; I keep in touch with my friends so I think it’s fine.”

“Are they all boys?”

“Mostly. Some girls.”

“I can’t talk to you anymore?” You ask, Shota almost forgetting he was on call with you. “We can. I think. We’ll do it in secret.” He hears you laugh on the other end. “Soul?” You say, overhearing the name his friend called him.

“My Korean name. I came up with it. With my roommates.”

“It’s cute! It suits you.” For some reason, he feels too flattered at your compliment. He overhears someone yelling in the background. “I need to go and help with dinner. I’ll talk to you soon! Bye!”

“Bye–“ He gets cut off by the sound of the call ending, letting himself fall back onto the bed, arms sprawled out. Jongseob looks over again at his roommate, who’s staring at the ceiling. “Are you okay?” He asks. Soul lazily responds with a thumbs up. “What happened?”

“Cute.” He mutters loud enough for his roommate to hear. “Cute?” Jongseob questions, puzzled. Soul points at himself, the cogs turning in his roommate’s head briefly before his eyes widen in realization. “She called you cute?!”

“My name.”

“Your name? She called your name cute? Soul?” He nods, Jongseob more shocked than he should’ve been. “Don’t fall in love yet, Soul, we haven’t debuted yet.” He jokes lightheartedly before he goes back to scrolling on his phone.

For a while, you’re the one to initiate calls. You always hesitate, knowing how busy he is, but you eventually learn that he’s off on Sundays and is usually off training well past 10 in the evening. If otherwise, he calls you first.

He enjoys talking to you a lot. He’s more comfortable speaking his home language in general, and the fact he has someone to talk to in it makes coming home from practice even more exciting.

His roommates would wonder why he rushes to his room so quickly the minute they step foot back in their dorm, but don’t question it. As long as he was able to talk to you, through call or text, he was able to stay sane.

While on FaceTime with him, the door to his room opens, as it usually does when you two call, this time a different man you haven’t seen before by the door. You eventually met Jongseob, the first guy who walked in on the two of you calling, and saw what he looked like, but this guy was definitely not him. He looked a little intimidating.

“Soul, do you want anything? We’re ordering delivery.” The man asks, Soul looking back at him. “Fries.”

“Just fries? Like usual?”

“I want… the same thing as you. Except large fries.”

“Okay, sure. Who’s that?” He seems to have noticed your face on Soul’s phone screen. “My friend. This is Keeho.” He introduces the man at the door to you, the name familiar. “He’s teaching you Korean?” The man gives a thumbs up, switching to a wave. “Hello, Soul’s friend!” He greets, his smile ridding all your previous opinions of him being intimidating.

“Hello! I’m just talking to Soul for a bit. How are you?” You reply, Keeho equally befuddled as Soul when he first met you, and how you switched tongues so effortlessly. “I’m doing well, thank you. How did you two meet?”

“Airport. I helped him get around for a bit.”

“Oh, really? That’s cool. I’ll be heading out now, sorry to interrupt.” Keeho waves at the camera again before shutting the door. Soul turns back to face you. “He looked scary.” You admit. Soul seems to agree with you, given the expression on his face. “That’s what I thought too! But he’s really nice and funny.”

“How many of your roommates know about me?”

“He’s the second one.”

“And how many roommates do you have?”

“Five. Plus me, so six.”

“Six?! And you share a room with how many people?”

“3 per bedroom. The whole place is actually quite roomy.”

“I don’t think I’d survive…”

“If you’re rooming with just girls, you’ll be fine. Boys, however…”

“Yeah, I get what you mean.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You got a haircut!”

“You noticed.”

“Of course I noticed. It looks really good!”

“I got something else too.”

“What is it?”

Soul grabs something out of frame, eyes focusing on his fingers. “Keeho and I went out today. I found these rings and bought them.” He curls his hand into a fist, showing them off to the camera. It’s a variety of different skull rings, a few on his right hand and a few on his left. “Cool! Where’d you get them? I want some for myself.”

“I can just give you one.”

“Really? But you just bought them.”

“When we meet up sometime, you can pick one.”

“Are you sure?”

“If it helps remind you of me.”

Your face goes warm. “You’re so sweet, Shota.”

“Did you cut your hair?” He asks. You’re surprised he noticed, given how subtle the difference was. “It was just a trim. And they made it flowier or something.” His head moves closer to the camera. “Are you keeping it this short?” You shake your head. “Getting rid of split ends and stuff. It’ll grow back eventually.”

“It’s very pretty. It looks good on you.”

“Thank you…” You mutter, flustered for a reason you can’t make out. How noticeable could a subtle change be that it could evoke such words not meant to be anything more than meaningful?“I really want to see you.”

“You’re seeing me right now.” He jokes. “I know, but… in person. I feel kinda limited only being able to see you on my laptop or phone screen.”

“Me too. I haven’t debuted, so it’s kind of risky for me to be hanging out with a girl. Outside.”

“They don’t know we’ve been calling?”

“They know. But it’s more discreet this way because no one can see us.”

“When are you debuting?”

“I don’t know yet. And if I did, I don’t know if I’d be allowed to tell you.”

“I’m good at keeping secrets! I still remember some from 5th grade.”

“If you say so.”

“Oh, I just remembered I needed to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

A smile slowly grows on your face. “I’m moving here.” Shota’s face is equally as shocked. “Really?”

“I got signed with an agent and got a few bookings! They’re small, but they’re something.”

“L/N, that’s amazing! You’re– you’re gonna be famous! I’m gonna see your face in all the stores!” You laugh at his enthusiasm. “Hey, maybe when we’re both famous, we can hang out in public! Maybe we can collaborate.”

It was always moments like this, purity radiated off your interactions. You’d get excited over the thought of seeing each other in person, what you’d do when you finally meet up, and how long you’d hang out together (you two always insisted on a night at your place). What you’d talk about, the kinds of pictures you’d take, what kind of food you could eat.

After all, you two were still kids.

You celebrated his 16th birthday late into the night, on voice call after his in person celebration with his roommates. He wished you were there as he blew out the candles on his cake.

“Happy birthday, Shota.” You softly greet, knowing he’s on the verge of falling asleep as he laid in bed. “Thank you.” He mutters, voice muffled, his face buried in his blankets. “I wish I could be with you in person. I got you a gift.”

“Really? You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to. I’ll give it to you when we finally meet up.”

“We always say we’re gonna meet up, but when? I don’t know if I can wait much longer.”

“It’s only a matter of your schedule. I’m free most of the time.”

“Maybe after I finally debut this year…” Shota’s eyes widen, realizing what he just said. “What? You’re debuting?”

“I didn’t mean to say that–“ You squeal softly over the phone in an attempt to not wreck his ears. “When were you going to tell me?!”

“Honestly, I forgot. I forget a lot of things.”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m so proud of you! All your hard work is finally paying off– maybe we really can see each other! When are you debuting?”

“Sometime later this year. It’s why I haven’t been picking up your calls, I’ve been really busy recording and stuff. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You do what you gotta do, okay? Just call me whenever you aren’t busy. Or text. Or whatever, I’m okay with anything.”

Shota softly chuckles. “So what did you get me?”

“It’s a surprise. You’ll find out eventually.”

“I’ll be 17 by the time I get that gift…”

“Keep your head up, Shota, we’ll see each other soon enough. You sound tired. Get some rest. Goodnight.” He breathes slow and deep before replying. “Goodnight, L/N.” He ends the call, taking out his earbuds and putting them and his phone on the small, crowded bedside table.

“Was that L/N?” Jongseob asked groggily. Soul replied with a monotone ‘mmm’, meaning he was right. “Who’s L/N?” Theo asks from the far side of the room. “Soul’s friend. They call all the time.”

“You talk to her like she’s your girlfriend. How you want to see her all the time and stuff. It’s cute.” Theo mutters, Soul barely making out what he said. His face goes warm at the assumption. “We haven’t seen each other… in 2 years. We’ve only met once in person.”

“And training is holding you back from seeing her? That’s why you video call?” Jongseob puts two and two together, receiving the same monotone response from Soul. “We’re off tomorrow. You can see her then.”

“But we haven’t debuted yet.”

“So? Intak meets with his friends all the time.”

“They’re all guys.”

“Soul, you can’t exactly be deprived of meeting up with your friends. And what if she’s a girl? If you want to hang out with her, hang out with her.” Theo speaks up, voice clearer now that his head isn’t buried in his blankets. “This goes for you too, Jongseob. You guys are still kids. If you’re being forced to be an adult in the industry, at least try to have fun while you’re still young outside of work.”

Soul lays there for a moment. “What if she’s sleeping?” He asks aloud. “The fact she called you this late means she’s probably still awake at this time.” Jongseob says, convincing Soul to pick up his phone one last time for the night. He opens your contact in his messages, typing swiftly.

I’m off tomorrow. Can we meet up?

By the time he falls asleep, he receives a message from you.

Yes please (⌒▽⌒)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“L/N? You’re seeing her today?” Keeho asks, making himself a bowl of cereal as Soul eats his own. Soul responds monotone with his mouth full, his leader sitting down with him. “Do you want me to go with you? I won’t stay the whole time, I’ll just drop you off with her then walk around myself, might just get some new clothes.”

‘You bought new clothes a week ago…’ Soul thinks.

“Are you gonna get her something? How long are you gonna be out for?” Soul shrugs his shoulders at Keeho’s question. The other bedroom door opens, Jiung emerging from the dark room with a loud yawn before closing the door. “Morning.” He greets, going for the same breakfast choice as the two boys sitting at the table.

“Does he know?” Keeho points at Jiung with his thumb. “Jiung and Intak don’t know.” The boy at the kitchen counter looks at them weirdly. “Me and Intak don’t know what?” He questions, suspicious of his two group-mates. “L/N.” Keeho answers.

“Who’s L/N?”

“He doesn’t know…!” Keeho whispers.

“Oh…” Jiung says after a brief moment of staring into space. “Isn’t that Soul’s girlfriend?”

Keeho nearly chokes on his cereal. “Girlfriend?!”

“No, she’s my friend!”

“Oh, my bad. You’re always smiling at your phone and you talk so lovey dovey in your room. The walls are quite thin.” Soul couldn’t figure out what was more embarrassing; the fact that the people in the other room could hear him talking to you or the fact two people thought he had a girlfriend. “We’re still trainees, Jiung, we can’t date. Besides, he’s only 16.”

“Just saying. Maybe after we debut, you can date–“

“Jiung, if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to cut your hair off in your sleep.” Keeho threatens. It seems to work, given that Jiung begins to eat his breakfast in silence. “I guess he does know.” Soul mutters, mostly to himself.

“So are you getting her anything?” Keeho asks, going back to his answered question. “Ring.” Soul shows off the accessories that decorated his fingers. “Really? I thought you said you’d never give those away. And that you’d end the world if you ever lost them…”

“I promised. And we can match.”

“Aww.” Jiung coos, the two boys at the table glaring at him. “What?”

Keeho turns back to Soul, taking their empty cereal bowls and stacking them on top of each other. “Go get changed, we’ll leave soon.” He says, going to put the dishes in the sick.

By the time Soul gets back to his room, Jongseob and Theo are awake, their lamps on. “Morning, Soul. How are you up so early?” Theo greets, Soul shrugging in response. They watch as their early bird roommate picks an outfit, throwing his clothes onto the bed. “Are you going somewhere?” Jongseob asks.

“I’m seeing L/N today.”

They both look at him, wide eyed and now fully awake. “Really?!”

“It was your idea.” He says, referring to both of them. “When are you leaving?” Theo asks, eyes still on Soul. “Soon. Keeho is walking with me. Then we’ll be on our own.”

“So it’s like a date?” Jongseob nudges Theo hard in the side. “Does everyone think that?” Soul groans, his roommates heading for the door.“Everyone that knows.” Jongseob smirks before he shuts the door, leaving Soul alone with his thoughts in the bedroom.

On the walk there, Soul plays with his fingers, fiddles with his rings, almost too nervous to even function. Keeho seems to notice, giving him a pat on the back. “There’s nothing to worry about, Soul. You’ve seen each other, you know each other. You’ve been looking forward to this for so long, what’s wrong?”

“It’s… different in person. I’m excited, but I’m scared I’ll…” Soul looks for the word, Keeho noticing him struggling to finish his sentence. “Embarrass yourself?” Soul nods. “You’ve seen all sides of each other, Soul. I hear you laugh at like… 11 in the evening. I think I heard you fall off your bed once.”

“She’s seen that side of you. I’m sure you’ve seen that side of her, too. You’ll be okay.” Keeho’s words make up the rest of the walk, as Soul stops in his path as his eyes land on you, sitting on a park bench perfectly shaded by a tree. He stands there, simply admiring you, and how he’s so happy he’s seeing you not on his phone screen.

He pulls out his phone, opening your contact and sending you a text.

Look to your right 👀

You do exactly that, and though you’re far away, he sees such a bright glow in your eyes as you get up and run over to him, jumping onto him for a hug. Soul is surprised at your sudden gesture, but happily accepts, holding you tight and even spinning you around.

“Shota! I’m so glad you–“ You notice Keeho out of the corner of your eye, simply smiling at the two of you. “Oh, hi Keeho...” You greet awkwardly, embarrassed that he saw the whole thing. “Nice to meet you, L/N. How long are you gonna be out for?”

“Until Soul wants to go home. A few hours, maybe.”

“Make sure you two stick together, okay? Otherwise all of us are gonna get in trouble in one way or another.” Keeho says lightheartedly before walking off. You look back at Soul, who’s staring at you with the brightest sparkle in his eyes. “You look even better in person.” You say, brushing his hair out of the way.

“Are you saying I don’t look good when we call?”

“I’m saying you look good no matter what.”

“Can I say the same for you?” He asks, as if you’re going to say no. “I actually want to show you something. And I have lots to tell you.” You take his hand without a second thought, pulling him with you. He’s caught off guard with your sudden gesture, but doesn’t protest in any way. Really, he enjoys it.

“Is this okay with you? Sorry, I forgot to ask.” Shota nods with a smile, and that’s all the assurance you need to keep your hold on his hand to guide him. “I hope we can meet like this again sometime. All the time.”

“Hey, I’m here now. Worry about that later.”

“You’re right. Come on!” You tug on his hand as you begin to lightly jog across the street, slowing down when you get nearby. “Okay, close your eyes.” He’s confused at first, but obliges. You guide him to an outside display of a clothing store. “You can open them now.”

Shota uncovers his eyes, seeing your face on display as a model for said store. “It’s you!” He exclaims as you nod off to the side. His gaze switches from you to the photo and back, and he finds himself staring at it for almost too long.

“I want a picture with it.” You laugh, taking his phone from him and snapping a few photos, switching to silly faces for the camera. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. You look so pretty. Beautiful.” Your face goes warm as you stare at him, and he stares at the photo. “You look really good.” He smiles, and your heart starts racing like never before. “Shota…” You mutter into his sleeve, holding onto his hand again. “What?”

“Let’s go. You can see my face some place else.”

“Can I get a photo with them too?”

You roll your eyes, unable to hold in your laugh. “Sure. You can take as many photos as you want.”

The day is full of you running around, taking photos, sharing food and drinks. And for almost all of it, Shota’s hand is in yours, and his grip never loosens. He never wants to let go.

Sitting at an outdoor table of a small café, you hand Shota a gift bag. “What’s this?” He asks. “Happy belated birthday, Shota.” At the sound of that, he looks through the bag, taking out a small potato plush. “Cute…!” He mutters, squeezing it in his hands. “I have one of my own. It came in a set, so I gave this one to you.”

“I love it.” He smiles, going through the bag again. There’s something at the bottom, which he grabs and pulls out. It’s a bracelet, similar to the one you were wearing at the moment. “I wanted to give you something that reminded you of me. If you ever get lonely. Sounds cheesy, but–“

“I’m never taking this off.” His dramatic reply cuts off your sentence as you help him tighten it on his wrist. “I want to give you something too.” You tilt your head. “But it was just your birthday. Shouldn’t you be the one receiving gifts right now?”

“Well, as someone once said, I want to give you something that reminds you of me.” Shota holds out his hands, showing off his rings. “Pick one.”

At first, you’re shocked. “Really?” He nods, watching as your eyes scan over his fingers. “This one.” You point. He takes it off and puts it on for you, and it somehow fits just fine. “I feel so cool now! Thank you.”

On the way back to your place, Shota holds onto your hand again, to the point where if he were to let go, you’d feel like you forgot a piece of yourself. “Are you walking back alone?” You ask, looking up at the sky, which painted a pinkish sunset above. “Keeho is gonna meet me here after you go inside.”

“I just don’t want you walking by yourself. It’s a bit scary.”

“I know. But everything is under control, so I’ll be okay.”

When you reach your home, you turn to look at your friend. “Today was fun. I wanna hang out with you like this again.”

“So do I. But I’m… y’know, I’m busy. With a lot.”

“I know you are. I’ll be waiting for you, Shota. I’m always ready.”

“Haku.”

“Huh?”

“My name. My name is Haku.”

“Haku Shota?” You clarify. He nods. “You have such a pretty name.”

“You’re pretty.”

Oops.

He didn’t mean to say that out loud. While he was embarrassed, your heart was racing. Your face was warm, and it matched the sky.

“You’re pretty, Haku. You are… very handsome.”

You understand how he feels now, attempting to return the compliment. “Am I weird for saying that? Because… I really do mean it. I’m just awkward.” You explain. “Not at all. Have I been weird? Calling you pretty…?”

“No! No– you’re, you’re okay. I liked it– I mean, um…” You stutter over your words, cursing at yourself for revealing too much. Haku laughs. “I’ll call you that more if you like it so much.”

“If you want to kill me, go ahead.”

“I thought you said you liked it.”

“I’ll die of a heart attack. I’ll die happy.”

“Soul!” Someone calls. It’s Keeho, waving at him from afar. “Thanks for today. I’m… I really liked spending time with you.” Soul responds with a long, tight hug, the feeling of being in his arms comforting. “I don’t wanna let go.” Soul mutters into your shoulder. “You’re gonna have to at some point.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Shota–“

“I’ll just stay with you so then we can hang out all the time.”

“You know you can’t do that.” You hear him sigh and reluctantly pull away. “Bye, L/N.”

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“It’s Y/N.”

He huffs with a smile. “Bye, Y/N.” He waves as you walk off, walking towards and with Keeho once he sees you let inside your house. “How was it?”

“Really fun. I’m already excited for another one.” Keeho looks at Soul’s hands, noticing one of his fingers bare, a bag in his hand, and his wrist adorned with a new bracelet. He really gave you one of his rings. And you gave him something too.

Though this was your first hang out in a few years, Keeho sensed something unbeknownst to Soul that was bound to bloom at some point. He just didn’t know when.

When they got back to the dorm, Soul went straight to his room and changed, lying down on the bed with your contact open. He changed your name.

L/N Y/N (ㆁωㆁ)

And sent you one last text for the night.

You have a very pretty name (*´꒳`*)

Make that two.

Goodnight (_ _).｡o○

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You find it odd that it took you two years to find out each other’s first names, but life goes on the way it always does.

You also found it odd that you enjoyed talking to Shota so much. You’ve always enjoyed talking to him, you just enjoy it a lot more now. Maybe too much.

You were the first person he texted when he debuted. You were also the first person to see any of his performance videos. One thing stayed consistent throughout:

He was wearing your bracelet.

Sometimes it would be hidden under his sleeve, the strings to tighten it peeking out just a little bit. He really meant it when he said he would never take it off, even if that meant getting into trouble with the stylists.

You were peaking in your career as well. You’d gotten a lot more busy with bookings and shows despite being so young. But despite your schedules, you always found time to talk to each other, like always.

And you even found time to hang out in person a lot more than before.

You started wearing masks in public. Sometimes you got recognized, and so did Shota. Nothing too drastic to the point where paparazzi started following you and taking pictures from the bushes. Shota was still careful, though. A scandal too soon into their debut could wreck him and his group’s career.

As careful as he was, Shota still held onto your hand in public. He was much more nervous now that more people knew who he was, and he always found himself latching onto you. The language barrier slowly began to shrink for him, his Korean improving, but he had a hard time talking to strangers. To his group, he was fine.

He couldn’t stop the uneasy feeling in his stomach the closer they got to the counter. Why was he so nervous? He felt like he couldn’t talk to anyone at all. “Could I get a 2 with onion rings?” You ask, the cashier at the till looking at Shota next. He was frozen in place, staring at her, suddenly squeezing your hand with a tight grip. “And a 5. Large fries.” You order for him, paying and taking the receipt and cups.

Shota sits down at a table by the window, ashamed and embarrassed, guilt overwhelming him. It wasn’t such a big deal, yet he felt like a failure for not being able to do something so simple. “Do you want to share?” He doesn’t respond, staring and spacing out at the table mindlessly.

You sit in the chair across from him, looking around to see if anyone is watching. You place your hand on top of his, rings colliding with each other, which brings him back to reality. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You ask with such genuineness that he feels guilty for even worrying over such a trivial thing.

“Nothing, it’s… it’s stupid. So stupid.”

“I can’t know how stupid it is if you don’t tell me what’s bothering you.”

Shota looks up at you with puppy eyes, breaking eye contact once he begins to speak. “I… um, I froze when we were ordering. You do it for me all the time and I wanted to do it for myself this time but I just couldn’t… talk. I couldn’t speak, I’ve been getting better at talking but I’m still scared to even order my own food– this is so dumb.” He rests his head on the table, messy black hair hiding his face.

Your hand moves from his hand to his head, fingers running through his hair as you caress him. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Shota. I’m glad you’re trying, you’re having confidence in yourself. It’s good to take it slow sometimes. I’m always here for you, Keeho is always there for you, your group is there for you! There’s always next time, okay? It may seem like a small step to others, but all that matters is how much it means to you. We’re always here for you. No matter if it’s me or anyone from your group.”

When he lifts his head up, your hand naturally moves from his hair down to his face, your thumb resting on his cheek. “Thank you.” The sparkle in his eyes comes back, as he stares at you for a long time, yet you don’t seem to mind and reciprocate it. Noticing how you two probably look to bystanders, you pull your hand away, face warmer than it should be.

“Um, do you just wanna share? I forgot to ask for medium instead of large.” You refer to the cups in your hand, and he nods, watching as you stumble while getting up from the chair and over to the drink fountain. The cup presses against the trigger, watching as the soda fills the cup to the brim.

As you walk back and grab your order, you can’t help but overthink. Why did you do that? It looked so intimate, and if people knew who you were, if people knew who he was… you’d both get in trouble. Shota would get in trouble because of you. You knew him too well to know that he’d take the blame and risk getting kicked out not even a year into their debut.

When you bring the tray to the table, you feel his eyes on you, and your heart had no reason to be beating so fast in the moment. “Are you okay? You look worried.” This time, Shota asks you. Your head perks up at his voice, snapping you out of it. “I’m okay. Let’s just eat.”

Everything goes back to normal in your silly, lighthearted fashion. You’d steal fries off his side, he’d drink from your straw, and you two would just mess around as you always would. No one came up to either of you with your masks off, so you two continued to be yourselves in the moment, with no one staring.

You find beauty in his personality. How you get to see him like this since you two are so comfortable with each other. Is he like this at his dorm? Probably. But is he ever this excited? Maybe not. You get to see him at full energy, unhinged and expressive, a side that the public might not see in him. And you felt so incredibly lucky.

Shota liked the way you stared at him, and the way a smile would creep up on your face. The way you’d hit a table over and over again or clap your hands when you found something funny. The way you’d pick up on his subtle hints and gestures and how you’d always found a way to make him feel better, the way you’d instantly recognize what’s wrong. You were patient with him, and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

He saw Keeho like an older brother; he acted the same way you did, but there was something different about the way you approached things. The way you weren’t afraid to be so physical with him, and how he wouldn’t recoil from your touch. He loved your hugs, and the way you’d bury yourself in him whenever you did.

Soul finds himself thinking of you at the dorms. He always thinks of you, but this was thinking of you at an extreme. You were on his mind 24/7. He’d think of how much fun certain practices would be if you were there. How you’d criticize him for putting the seasoning packets after putting the ramen in the bowl. Sometimes he’d imagine getting surprised by you. What would happen if you walked through the door right now?

You two saw each other’s quirks and you loved them. You saw sides of each other that the public couldn’t, and it made you both feel special. When you felt your heart racing when you thought of him, you couldn’t help but feel full of dread.

When he saw your photos or clips of your shows, he hated that his face went warm when you came on screen. That he was so hyper focused on you and nothing else.

You were smart. Emotionally and academically. You knew what was happening, but didn’t want to accept it. Really, it was process of elimination.

You started to have feelings for your best friend.

And you hated it. You hated it because him being in the industry pretty much means that he can’t date at all. You’d have to live with feelings that would never be reciprocated, and sometimes it hurt whenever you saw his face, especially when he was looking so damn good.

So you always stayed in denial of your feelings. You gaslighted, convinced, manipulated yourself to get over it, but nothing worked. You couldn’t help that your best friend was just that talented and attractive that when he texts you, you feel butterflies in your stomach and a smile grows onto your face.

Soul, however, was much more unaware of it. He never liked anyone. He was left alone with his thoughts for majority of his childhood, and had female friends but no romantic attraction to anyone.

When he finds himself pondering at the kitchen table, spacing out as he tries to figure out his feelings, his older brother figure, Keeho, sits down with him, after noticing Soul leaving the last bit of food in his bowl and just staring blankly. “You okay?” His voice snaps Soul out of it as he nods.

Intak sits down in the other seat with his own bowl, unintentionally now being a part of the conversation. “Something’s on your mind. You can tell me, I won’t judge.” Soul knows Keeho won’t judge. Intak, however…

Soul’s gaze moves from Keeho to Intak. “Intak won’t care. What’s bothering you?”

“What are we talking about?” Intak asks, clueless.

“L/N.”

“What’s up with L/N? Didn’t you just see her last weekend?”

“Is L/N that girl Soul’s friends with? I saw her advertising a brand at a department store the other day.” Intak overhears, pitching into the conversation. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“What’s wrong? Did she insult you or something?”

The more Soul tries to think about it with the words in his head, his heart beats faster and faster that he brings his hand to his chest, feeling the rapid, strong pulse against his palm. How did you manage to make him feel like this? Like he was speechless?

Keeho seemed to notice something, because he moved Soul’s hand and put his own on his chest, feeling how fast it was beating and how powerful it was. “Your face is all red. Are you having a fever?” Intak asks, totally opposite to what Keeho is thinking.

“Oh my god.” He starts, acting overdramatic. “You like her.” When Keeho says it, it makes Soul cringe, and he hates that he came to the same conclusion. “Soul likes who?” Intak is still clueless about the whole situation, probably tired out from practice that day.

“L/N, you idiot, get your head out of the clouds.”

“I like her. A lot.”

“You like her as more than a friend?” Keeho clarifies, Soul nodding. He can see the conflict in his leader’s eyes, a sense of understanding yet a tinge of guilt. “I know we can’t… date. I really want to. She’s the first person who’s ever understood me… ever since I got here.”

His leader sighs. “I think you should tell her. But… be careful. You’re putting a lot of things at risk here.”

“I know I am.”

“Soul’s a pretty quiet person. He should be okay. I mean, as long as none of us ramble about it, we should be fine.” Keeho nods along, his face content. On the inside however, he knows damn well all of them ramble way too much.

And they could ramble about you and Soul.

“Should I text her?”

“Tell her in person. If you really like her, and you really do mean it, you need to tell her the next time you two meet up.”

“But what if I can’t say it?” Keeho is well aware of Soul’s problem with freezing up when talking to others, yet this was something bound to happen, even with you. “She’s patient. She’ll wait as long as she needs to for you to say it. You’ll be okay, Soul. I’m pretty sure she likes you back.”

“She does?”

Keeho scoffs. “Have you seen the way she is around you? Sometimes she stutters over her words when you’re around, she’s always waiting for you, she lets you take her food… there’s a whole list that goes on for a while.”

Soul’s gut feeling was right. He did have a crush on you. A really big one that would only grow if he didn’t do something about it quick.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He arranged to hang out with you the following week. His heart would not stop beating as if it was about to soar right out of his chest. He swore that if you put your thumb on the right spot on his wrist, you’d feel how nervous he was getting as time passed, and he did not want that happening soon enough.

You noticed something else. He seemed a lot more tense, spaced out, and hesitant. To be honest, you were almost the same. You hesitated to hold his hand like you usually did when you walked with him, worried someone would recognize either of you and see what was happening.

Anything simple you’d over-romanticize. He’d block you from the wind. He’d freak out and any display of you and take a picture of it, smiling as he checked them one last time for any retakes. How he’d play with your hand when you two sat together. When you’d share your food.

Everything you did normally was now something you saw as something beyond your friendship. You wanted it to be that way, you really did, but knowing Soul, as clueless as he is, he probably didn’t mean anything at all behind his actions. Everything has just been so normalized between the two of you.

Your heart raced as fast as his. One could say that if you compared both of your pulses, they would sync up, or be extremely close in heart rate. His face had the slightest tinge of pink that you noticed under certain lighting— you didn’t get to look at it long since he didn’t want to call you out for staring.

“I really like your hair colors. They’ve all looked really good on you.” You say, Soul surprised at the sudden compliment. “I’ve only dyed it once or twice…”

“And it looks good. Even your hairstyles! The braids are so cute! If it gets long enough, I should give you pigtails.”

“Long enough that hopefully I don’t get scheduled for a haircut.”

“I’d cry, honestly.”

Shota stops in his tracks in front of your place, the sudden tug on your hand holding you back. “I need to tell you something. It’s been… stuck in my head for a while.” He admits, kicking away a stone at his feet. “What is it?” The look you give him almost makes him back out, but he knew keeping it in for longer would only eat at him. And it wouldn’t be a while until he’d see you again.

“Um, I–“

“Soul!”

Shota turns around at the sound of the voice, Keeho standing at a distance and waving at him. He turns back to face you, taking a deep breath.

“L/N…”

“I like you.”

He notices the shock in your expression, your eyes widening slightly and jaw slightly hanging open.

“I like you a lot.” He continues.

Shota doesn’t know what to make of your blank stare at him, since you do so for longer than you should’ve. “I-I know it’s hard for us to do any relationship related stuff because of our careers. Um, I get if you’re worried about all of this and dating in general but…”

“Shota.” You cut him off, his eyes landing on you. You take both of his hands, thumbs brushing over the metal of his rings. “I want to go out with you.” You say so forwardly that he almost becomes the shocked one. “I really like you. I really do. I… I don’t want your career to be ruined because of me. You worked your ass off for this and God knows how much we’ve been separated because of it.”

You squeeze his hands, looking at how they intertwine. Shota speaks up. “Is it crazy that I like you so much?”

“How much?”

“That I feel like you’re the only one who’ll ever understand me? That you’re the only one I’ve ever had actual genuine feelings for? Am I too young to be thinking about these kinds of things?”

“I ask myself the same questions. Every. Single. Day.”

He giggles, feeling your head lean against him. You look up, chin resting against him with a light in your eyes he hadn’t seen before. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think we’re two teenagers stupidly in love.”

“Soul, hurry up!” Keeho calls.

You can practically hear him roll his eyes the way he scoffs, making you giggle. “Go out with me.” He asks, more of a statement than a request. His chin rested atop your head, his hand rubbing your back with reassurance. “M’kay.” You agree with a smile, voice muffled.

“We’ll keep it a secret.”

“Even from the guys?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Your dad is calling you.” He laughs at your joke, noticing you lost in thought. You pull away a bit, looking at the ground for a moment. In one swift movement, you tiptoe and peck his cheek. “Bye!” You briefly bid, briskly walking away. Shota raises his hand to where you kissed him, almost forgetting in his moment of bliss that Keeho had already called him twice.

The walk back is mostly in silence, Soul doing his best to stop his giddy little smile on his face from growing any more. Keeho didn’t look back at him once.

The sun is fully set by the time they arrive back at the dorms, Keeho entering with an extravagant greeting. “We’re baaack!” He gleefully exclaims. Shuffling can be heard from a distance as the boys begin to take off their shoes. “Soul, how was the–“ Theo starts, being cut off after seeing something on Soul’s face.

When he gets up from kneeling down, Theo notices a light pink mark on Soul’s face, and it for sure was not his blush. “You– She–“

“What’s happening–“ Jiung is equally as shocked as Soul walks into the main space. “Oh my god.” He mutters, hand going to cover his dropped jaw. “She kissed you!” Theo exclaims. Keeho immediately comes running over, grasping Soul’s face and turning it to find the mark. He gasped louder than he should’ve when he found it.

“Just on the cheek.” Soul felt like he had to specify, but the three boys continued to jump around and freak out over the mark. “Cute! Ugh– we need to meet her sometime!” Jiung gushes.

“She just kissed me today and you guys already want to meet her in person?”

They all nod.

“I think you guys would scare her. It’s a bit cramped in here… and we aren’t even allowed to have girls here.”

“Maybe we’ll run into her during a photoshoot! She’s getting pretty famous nowadays.” Jiung adds. “I’ve already met her so many times, just saying. She’s cool.” Keeho bragged before walking into his room.

Intak enters the living space, wondering why Theo and Jiung are crowded around Soul. Keeho goes back out to join them with his empty bottle of water, originally with the task of refilling it. Soul feels a buzz in his pocket, taking it out to see your name on his phone screen.

“She’s calling you!” Jiung gasps, Theo shushing him right after. Soul swipes right to accept the call. “Put her on speaker!” Intak whisper yells, Soul holding out his phone for his group members to huddle around it.

Jongseob comes out of his room, joining the boys even though he had no idea what exactly was going on. “Hello?” Soul greets. “Hi Shota!”

“I thought we just saw each other 20 minutes ago. Do you miss me already?” He jokes, attempting not to stutter over his words. “Oh, we’re speaking in Korean now! I see how it is.” He can hear your sarcasm over the phone, a smile growing on his lips. “What’s up? Did you forget something?”

“My parents kinda caught us outside. When I…”

“Oh. Right.”

“They want you to come over.”

“So soon?” Intak says a little too loud.

“Who was that?”

“No one– just a show in the background.”

“Oh. Well, you’ve met them before. On calls and stuff, they know who you are. You know them, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Because they saw… us… they want to meet you. I told them about how busy you were and your schedule and that it wouldn’t be for a while until you were free again–“

“Y/N.” He cuts you off for a second. “I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

“Really?”

“I want them to know I’m a good person. That I am doing my best for you.” His groupmates gush audibly, and it definitely picks up on the microphone. “You’re going to make me miss you a whole lot more if you keep talking like that.” Soul chuckles. “They’re listening, aren’t they?”

“What?”

“Your group. That did not sound like a TV show in the background.”

They all look at each other, surprised. “Um… maybe?”

“Agh– they heard all of that?! So embarrassing…”

“They wanna meet you too. My group.”

“I thought girls weren’t allowed in your dorms.”

“Outside of the dorms. Possibly in a work environment?”

“That could work! I’m already looking forward to it.”

“They’re all weird.” Soul feels everyone’s eyes on him. “A bit. Just saying.” He hears you giggle on the other end.

“Shota?”

“Mhm?”

“I love you.”

It goes dead silent for a moment, before all the boys erupt into loud cheering and hollering, Soul having to cover his ear to hear you. “Is it too soon for me to say that?” You ask.

“Did you mean it?” He answers with another question, silence on your end for a second.

“I did.”

“Then no. If anything, I think you’re 3 years too late.”

“Have you been waiting that long for me to say it?”

“Mmm, maybe just half a year.”

“Figured.”

“Y/N?” He switches back to Japanese.

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

Though in another language, the boys can understand the small phrase, their montage of cheers going on for longer than it should have.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As both of you had begun to become more globally renowned, so did your relationship with each other. At first, it was viewed as the two of you being very close friends. After certain interactions and nitpickings, people began to question the nature and status of your relationship.

People noticed the ring on your finger and how it looked exactly like the ones on Soul’s. When the string to tighten his bracelet was visible from under his sleeves, some made connections to learn that it looked like yours. Neither of you took it off, even during work events.

If it couldn’t be on your wrist, you managed to use your bracelet as an anklet. It was more subtle, but you ended up having to send pictures to Shota to show proof you kept it on.

Strings were pulled. Your company met with his, and despite their strict dating laws and restrictions, they managed to work around them. You just hoped they weren’t bribed in any way.

You did end up visiting their dorm a few times after the workarounds, and Shota was always there at the door to be the first person to greet you. His physical touch became more than just holding your hand. He clung onto you; he loved hugs, he loved hugging you.

You loved his hair, playing with it and tying it up into different hairstyles. Pigtails, braids, the occasional half up ponytail. You were always fascinated at the fact every single colour looked so good on him.

The rest of the boys had to get used to your presence. Given you didn’t visit often since Soul would rather visit you, sometimes the sight of you seated with Soul on their couch was a shocker to them. Keeho got used to it the quickest.

From your perspective, you were overall cautious but at the same time didn’t care if any news of the two of you happened to get out. It would be shocking from one end, but it would follow with claims saying that it was bound to happen sometime. Considering how young you were, sometimes you had your doubts. Most of the time you forgot about those doubts.

As for someone like Shota, with his growing popularity and presence in the K-pop industry, he was worried one little leak would cause him to get kicked out of his company. Until paparazzi footage of the two of you, his hands wrapped around your waist to meet in the front as you waited at a bus stop, was posted on a website.

You both panicked. You apologized, he apologized; it was a lot of back and forth. All that came from netizens was the mutual discussion of the chance that you two might be in a relationship. The girl on billboards across Korea going out with a rising star in K-pop? Both of them soon to be international? It was unexpected.

The public was pleasantly surprised. It was a match they hadn’t expected, so much so they decided to try and guess how you two met and how your relationship started. Though you never went deeper than cute photos and interactions that just had to happen in the public eye.

Soul was asked the question a few times.

“Is Y/N a close friend of yours?”

“What’s your relationship with the model?”

The members would either glare at the interviewer or look at Soul worried. He’d always respond with:

“She’s my girlfriend.”

Which pretty much revealed the terms you two were on to every person on the internet.

The boys always took pictures and videos of the two of you as well, if you were ever to end up working together somehow. If you came to the dorm, or if they ran into you two in public. You’re certain Intak and Theo have way too many photos of him falling asleep on you or vice versa.

Soul scrolls on his phone, noticing a few posts of the two of you as he goes deeper down the rabbit hole. As he goes to rewatch his dance practice of the day, he gets a text from you.

Shota

Haku

Haku Shota

Hi （╹◡╹）

Um

I know this is gonna sound like really stupid and crazy and weird

What is it?

Is it okay if I stay at your dorm tonight

Soul looks up from his phone and the condition his shared room is in. It’s decently clean, at least his area is. Theo and Jongseob’s area is debatable.

It’s okay if not! I was just wondering

You can

Just let me ask the guys first

It’s really messy in here

He puts in his phone in his pocket before he’s able to check your next text, reluctantly getting out of bed to go and ask. He opens the door, at first sticking his head out, but then fully shuffling through the door.

“Hey Soul. I thought you were sleeping?” Keeho says, going to sit on the couch. “I need to ask you guys something.”

“What is it?” Intak adds.

“Y/N wants to come over.”

“This late?” Sometimes it surprises him how dense Intak could be sometimes. “She wants to stay over. Sleep.”

The boys all look up and around at the area, noticing the slight mess. Despite you seeing the area in such conditions most of the time when you came over, they suddenly felt obligated to do something rather than have you sleep in an environment with said mess.

“We’ll clean up. Tell her we said yes. Is everything okay?” Keeho said, getting up from the couch.

“We?”

“Get up, Jiung, and let the girl feel welcome.”

“Should I help?”

“Maybe clean our room.” Theo pats Soul on the shoulder, letting him walk back into said room.

Shota???

Are you there?

Pls respond

Sorry

I asked they said yes

I’m already on my way

We’ll talk more when I get there

I’ll text you

He can hear shuffling and commanding outside his room as he tosses the dirty laundry into their basket in the corner of the room, fixing his nightstand and somewhat making his bed since he was gonna lie down in it immediately afterwards.

By the time he gets a text, the room is mostly clean and tidy, prompting him to go and open the door for you. Your eyes meet with his, though they look dull and tired, more than they would be after a day of shoots.

“Hey.” You hide your gaze with the top of your hood. “Hi. Are you okay?”

“Let’s talk about it in your room. Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all. Come in.”

You nearly stumble over your own feet going to take your shoes off, Soul noticing there’s something more going on and it’s not just that you’re exhausted.

Not wanting to be rude, you briefly greet the rest of the boys before swiftly going into Soul’s shared room, Jongseob lying on his bed on his phone and simply acknowledging you when you enter the room, dropping your bag on the floor and plopping yourself on Soul’s bed. He sits next to you, your face covered by your hood.

He gently takes it off in case you’d stop him at the motion, seeing those dull eyes of yours, a bit pink and swollen. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?” He softly asks, holding your hands in the same manner as his voice. “I’m having a few problems at home. Nothing with my parents. Extended family.”

“What happened?”

“My parents are having some maintenance and small renovations done on our house, so we’re staying in an extra room at my grandma’s for a little bit. My aunt lives in the other room.”

You inhale, trying to grasp onto your words.

“Um, my aunt is being,” you start, “being a real bitch. I know I can’t say that and it’s rude to even think so but God knows everyone in that room was pissed at her. She insulted my mom and her decision to move here and put me through modelling at such a young age.”

“She called me a wannabe, and that I wasn’t gonna get anywhere in life just posing for the camera. Called me a slut for allowing to be in shoots where I show a lot of skin when really it’s usually just a tank top and a skirt.”

“She said she felt bad for whoever I was dating that they had to be with a girl who loves showing herself off to the general public. Said I was practically naked if I showed too much skin.”

“So I don’t feel safe or comfortable in that house right now, and my parents were nice enough to let me stay someplace else. They agreed when I told them about you.”

Soul sat there, a silent rage burning through his veins. You had a completely valid reason to address her with such vulgarity. He couldn’t offer any advice in the moment, all that he could do was hug you.

“No wonder she still lives with your grandma.” He mutters into your shoulder, your hand hitting his back hard as you chuckle. “You can’t say that, Shota!”

“Who’s stopping me? I know you want to say it too.”

“Shota…”

“Fine. Only because you don’t want me to. Still, I’m sorry you had to go through all that. Stay as long as you need to.” Soul’s eyes meet with Jongseob’s, their stares translating into sentences.

‘As long as she needs to?’

‘Just let her. Please.’

‘Don’t ask me, ask Keeho.’

Shota rolls his eyes at his roommate, attention back on you. “I’m gonna go change now.” You say, pulling away. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

“Um, I was thinking we could share your bed. But I can always take the couch if you don’t want to–“

“Share. Yeah– yeah, we can share.”

You smile, kissing his forehead before you leave the room. Jongseob’s eyes are on Soul the minute the door shuts. “What did she say?” He meant to ask: ‘What did she say to make her kiss you in front of me?’

“She wants to share my bed.”

“You look really nervous.”

“I’m not nervous, just surprised. And I’ve… obviously never shared it before.”

“Just sleep normally, Soul. What’s so hard about that?”

“Do I snore?”

“You don’t. Theo does. Maybe get her some earplugs.”

“I don’t have any.” His roommate shrugs his shoulders.

“Jongseob…”

“Fine.” He tosses Soul a clean, unopened pair of foam earplugs. “Are you actually that nervous?”

Soul’s ashamed to admit it. “We’re close, but we haven’t been this close before. Not at all. I have no idea if I kick in my sleep– what if I kick her?”

“You kick like once or twice but not every other second. Besides, if L/N says she’s in love with you, she’s gotta be in love with everything about you. Including your sleeping habits. She’d love you regardless of what you do in your sleep.”

You come back in sweats and a loose shirt, going to lay on the bed while Shota sat on the edge. You place your hand on top of his, prompting him to turn around and look at you. “Are you that tired?”

“Korean all of a sudden?”

“I’m getting better, aren’t I?”

“By the day, Shota.”

“To answer your question, since I was crying for 10 minutes at home, yes, I’m tired. Are you gonna just gonna sit there or are you gonna get some rest?” Soul simply responds moving you over on the bed so he can sleep on the side closest to the wall. You turn to face him, all flushed and doe eyed. “Am I too close?” Your head rests against his chest and atop his arm, probably the definition of close.

“No.”

“I can always move if–“

“Just stay here. You’ve had a rough day.”

His other arm wraps around you, his hand on your back and pushing you closer to him. “Do you think we’re too young to be this in love?” You feel his head move. “What do you mean?”

“That we aren’t old enough to make bigger decisions for ourselves? This… this is a big thing. People say that we’re really young to already be dating, and I always shrug it off, but it’s bothering me. What if they’re right?”

“Are you doubting us?”

“I’m not, I’m really not! People are just overlooking what’s going on between us and they’re making assumptions and–“

“This relationship is only between us and no one else. We don’t need to worry about what others think. We only need to worry about each other.”

“You’re getting good at switching languages smoothly.” You say, trying to sneak a bit of humor in there. “I learn from the best.” His hand once on your back now moved to your head, stroking it smoothly. “I’m really grateful for you, actually. I hope you know that.” His words melt your heart as they always do, but somehow you find them more meaningful.

“When you first helped me here. When you offered to keep in touch and look where that brought us. When you don’t get bothered every time I ask you how to say something in Korean. And you still like being with me even though sometimes I can be a bit…”

“Bothersome?”

“I was thinking annoying, but what you said sounds nicer.”

“Shota, I never thought of you as annoying. You’re teaching yourself with the help of your group getting around and the culture and its differences.”

“How did you get used to it so quickly?”

“I didn’t. I’ve been here so many times to visit but living here? Oh, it was a culture shock to me.”

“So I’m really not alone in this?”

“You were never alone, Haku.”

You called him by his first name.

Your eyes meet at your mention of it, Shota looking at you with such a pure, joy filled gaze that was silent behind his irises. It was moments like this where you got to admire his beauty, how pretty he was, his features and how they worked so well together.

You’re drawn to him. So much so that you end up giving him a soft, gentle kiss on the lips.

As much as it was a moment of euphoria, the moment you pulled away, you immediately got flustered and embarrassed, turning around since you weren’t able to face him. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have–“ And seeing Jongseob on the other bed? He heard a lot and probably saw a lot which made the whole thing more embarrassing for you.

You kick your feet slightly, hiding your face in your hands and just then feeling how hot your it was in the moment. Suddenly, you feel his arms wrap around your waist like they did in the photos of you two at that bus stop, bringing you closer into him. “I liked it. It was my first.” He mutters, voice slightly muffled.

“It was my first too.” You reply, hands off your face and turning around to bury it in his shoulder, still embarrassed to face him. You wrap an arm around him as to hug him loosely. “I love you, Haku.” You raise your head to bump your nose against his. He giggles, hugging you tighter.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

“Even more than your games?”

“More than my games and my rings. Get some rest now.”

You want to kiss him again in that moment, but he does it for you. Short and chaste, your lips meet long enough to feel each other’s connection, but short enough that it doesn’t escalate.

“At this point, can you two just sleep already? I’d rather you hug and spoon than hear you kiss all evening.” Jongseob sneers, almost forgetting he was even in the room. Soul feels you giggle into his shoulder, having you so close being the least of his worries. In fact, it was something he cherished.

Soul never let you out of his hold, and you never let him out of his.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

☀️: guys look at this

☀️: [Two images attached]

🐿️: OMG

🐿️: THEY’RE SO CUTE

🐿️: THEY’RE LIKE CUDDLING AIDHSIDNW

🐿️: IM SAVING THESE THANK YOU VERY MUCH

🐺: theo why are you taking pictures of them while they’re sleeping 🤨

🐺: that’s a little bit weird

☀️: ok but they’re cute

☀️: you’d do it too

🐺: tbh i would

🐯: they kissed

🐺: HUHH???

🐿️: SJAODJEBDIEBDK

🐶: wait actually

🐿️: where did you come from

🐶: i was disinterested until i saw jongseob’s text

🐺: are we talking like a kiss on the cheek or forehead cuz they do that a lot

🐯: lips

🐿️: OH MY GOD WHAT

🐺: WAIT ACTUALLY

🐺: SOUL GOT HIS FIRST KISS

🐶: keeho u probably havent kissed anyone why r u talking

🐺: shut up

☀️: yeah i walked in on them

🐯: they didnt make out or anything tho i think they’re both disgusted by the idea of it

🐺: thank god

🐶: you actually thought they were gonna make out or something just from the word ‘kiss’??

🐺: hey you can never be too careful

🐿️: i understood half of what they were saying until they switched back to japanese ugh i could hear them through the wall

🐯: are the walls actually that thin

🐿️: i hear you scream at your phone every time u watch something scary

🐯: okay anyways they were probably flirting with each other

🐯: i was literally there the whole time

🍟: (*^◯^*)

🐶: oh shit

🐺: morning soul!!

🐿️: why aren’t you just talking to each other instead of texting in the group chat you literally share a room

🍟: y/n is sleeping (( _ _ ))..zzzZZ

☀️: she actually is do u guys want proof

🐺: stop taking pictures of people in their sleep theo ur weird for that

🍟: [One image attached]

☀️: and when soul does it ur not gonna say anything

🐺: soul dont do that but yall r cute okay

☀️: this is so unfair

🐯: i have a picture of him taking that picture

🐺: what

🐶: this is so confusing

🐯: [One image attached]

🐿️: trippy @—@

🐺: soul how is she not waking up while you’re texting us

🍟: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

🍟: she is so pretty (//∇//)

🐿️: UGH EILFIWRNOAN

🐶: you are so down bad its crazy

🐺: jiung is literally squealing into his pillow rn

🐯: yeah we can hear

☀️: fr tho u guys r cute

🐶: soul pulls

🍟: (・・?)

🐺: it’s okay soul you’ll figure out what that means eventually

☀️: just tell him what’s stopping you

🐺: he spends a lot of time on the internet he’ll see it one way or another

🍟: jongseob i never gave her the earplugs u can have them back

🐶: is it cuz theo snores cuz honestly thats understandable

☀️: i do not snore that loud okay

🐯: my bed is right next to yours so that makes it 10 times louder

🐯: also just leave them on the nightstand soul ill take them back thanks

🐺: is someone gonna get up or are we just gonna keep texting here

☀️: soul would but he’s too busy holding his gf rn

🐯: do u guys want more photos

🐿️: yes

🐺: jongseob and theo you two need to stop taking pictures of y/n while she’s sleeping she’s gonna think you guys are creepy

☀️: you never said no

🐺: and i never said yes

🐯: soul is shielding her face in some of them tho at least its covered

🐿️: just send them

🍟: you can send them jongseob (^^)

🐯: see even soul says we can

🍟: wanna show how pretty y/n is

🐿️: oh my god you guys are so dsibwsidhsi

🐺: jiung is freaking out

🐶: soul i think u killed him

☀️: breaking up at this point would just end the world

☀️: treat her well soul

🐶: yeah you’ve got a good one

🍟: im too in love to let go (*´∀｀*)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

and i am but a man, orbiting ‘round your sun. and it’s you that makes my day, after day. 🎧

[tikus-library]

"Books to Bread"

Night Hunter AU

Characters: Walter Marshall x Reader

Posted: Feb 10th

WARNINGS: none?

A/N: Have a draft dump. I want to do more for this, but life is a bit chaotic rn. I haven't posted in a minute, so this is one of my many hidden drafts. I did attempt to edit but 🤷‍♀️

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

**Please Do Not Repost or 'Fix' My Work**

It was hard to miss the guy.

Definitely over six foot, dark unruly curls framing a serious face with a thick beard, thick dark brows drawn down as a scowl marred his lips. Nice lips, you thought, eyes raking over his tall muscular form. No better than a man, you scolded yourself with a smirk.

You shifted, careful not to draw attention to yourself as the other women in the book shop didn't even try to hide the way they ogled him.

In the town of Port Tenebris there weren't many that looked like him and plenty more women ready to welcome him. You had heard there had been a recent new body that had moved into town, ex-detective, if gossip was right…

“I've read that one.”

You jumped at the low smooth voice that came from beside you and looked over and then up… and up again till you met deep vibrant blue eyes. You swallowed as he reached out with one thick arm, fingers catching your elbow as he offered you a smile in apology.

“I didn't mean to surprise you…?”

The way he lifted an eyebrow meant he was asking for your name, instead you looked down at the book in your hands, “into romance?” You asked instead.

He held the smile, “not ashamed of it,” he answered, “and that one is actually more of a forensic thriller.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as he offered you a quick tilt of his head and a smile before going back to looking at the books in front of you. “It's a romance,” you stated.

He flipped through the book in his hands, it looked tiny, he shrugged without looking at you. He had of course seen you enter the bookstore, not that he had been following, no. He had most definitely not followed you from the tiny diner where you had verbally assaulted a jackass of a man that had been handsy with the young waitress there.

He simply wanted to get your name. Maybe your phone number… how did he do this again?

“It's a romance,” you said again. “I have every book by Billie Martinez, she writes romance.”

“I mean,” he shrugged again, suppressing the smirk that itched to fight its way to his lips, out the corner of his eye he saw you turn to him and scowl. This was something, ever since he'd stepped foot in this little Port every woman had given him the look, it had been amusing at first.

“Explain.”

He coughed to hide the short laugh that escaped him, “she hides it under the romance, but, when you read it you'll understand. You'll also want to slap the shit out of the male lead.”

You looked down at the book in your hands, he let his eyes wander to your curvy waist, “maybe… I shouldn't get it” you mused, thinking of the man at the Cafe you had laid into, “I think I've had my fair share of irritating men for the day.” He made a noise that had you looking up in time to catch his tongue flick out over his bottom lip, eyes jerking up to meet your gaze.

Had he…? No.

He cleared his throat, “fair,” it was all he could think of and watched as you started to put the book back, “but I could pay for it and then you'll not regret leaving it behind.”

You sighed, this conversation had already gone on longer than you had wanted. You had purposefully been attempting to avoid talking to him as conversations with others always seemed to go awry. In a weird way. You supposed it was your fault, no one else had that problem really.

“No, no need to buy me a book when you don't even know me.”

“Walter.”

You took a small step back, a little confused.

“Walter Marshall, Im… th-thats my name,” he smiled awkwardly, turning to you and shoving a hand into his pocket. “I started work in the Bakery in town? Owned by Kate and her husband? Uh, they offered me a job there… Now I'm not a stranger.”

You nodded, fingers tapping at the book's spine, before letting your arm drop to your side. “Nice to meet you Walter Marshall, who works in the bakery owned by Kate and her husband. I should be going.”

He had struck out yet again. Sighing heavily as you stepped away and made for the front of the store. He snatched the book up and hurried after you, eyes falling on your ass, before he rolled them scolding himself silently.

“Please, no name, let me buy you the book then. You collect her books and it'll be incomplete.”

You pulled away from him, studying him warily.

He knew that kind of look and took a step back. “I'll leave you alone,” he hummed, turning away, he shouldn't have pushed. Maybe you had moved here to hide yourself, he understood that.

“Alright,” he heard you sigh and turned around quickly. “But don't complain if I come down to find you at the bakery and yell at you there about the dumb male lead.”

Walter grinned, “you won't hear a complaint from me.” He watched you tilt your head to the side, enjoying how easily he could read your thoughts clear in your expression. “I'll even treat you to something I've baked.” Your eyes jumped back to his face, something he decided he wanted right then and there. To have your full and complete attention. “To apologize for dumb males that is.”

You snickered, eyes lighting up, “then I hope you are a baker of delicious sweets and golden bread!”

He almost forgot to breathe as your eyes scrunched up beautifully as you laughed. “You'll fall in love with my bread and butter,” Walter flashed you a toothy grin as he led you to pay for the book, “plus, this is essential to the series. You can't miss out on this book.”

“Oh, no! Then absolutely buy it.”

You followed along, noting the pairs of eyes tracking the two of you. There would be gossip and questions, a little inconvenient but nothing you couldn't handle. He thanked the cashier who nodded wordlessly and stepped towards the door where he paused, dragging a pen out of his pocket and scribbling on the receipt, tucking it into the cover of the book.

“In case the bakery is closed and you want to yell at me.”

You felt your neck heat, he wrote in all capitals, clear and neat. He crossed his sevens, huh. “No promises.”

*

Walter scowled at his phone, yet was quick to flick the screen and scan the words there blearily. It was past three am and he was due up in an hour to begin baking.. right. He was a baker now.

Unknown: I love thick slices of warm bread with butter that melts beautifully.

Unknown: He deserves to be run over…. Multiple times.

Unknown: what an idiot. He let her walk away?!

He sat up and smiled.

WM: I did warn you, suppose I owe you bread.

Unknown: Y/N

WM: ?? Uhh, which character?

Unknown: my name is Y/N

Walter woke up fully.

WM: nice to meet you Y/N.

Leave Kudos on Ao3

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Hi? Gosh how do I even start with this :'D

I know it's been ages since I've last popped up on here. I've been debating when to post this for a while, but I kept adding to my draft more and more and now it's the end of JULY omgg I felt so guilty disappearing with zero updates but then thought my birthday would be the best day to finally address this considering it'll feel less random? idk but Ive always celebrated my bday with you guys and I'd feel so bad answering your kind asks without me at least explaining why I was gone for months.

Truth be told, I was dealing with a lot of stuff irl. health issues and sudden declining grades that left me stumped and drained for months now- along with technical issues like having to replace some parts of my computer that took a while for me to find to even draw digitally, which I didn't have the time for anyway with how tired and weary I felt every day.

I'm frankly shaken up by a lot of shit rn and I don't know how to be active online with this burden on my chest- Especially as it's been a while since I've even looked at utmv related content and my motivation dwindled. I swear I'd hype myself up to post or reblog something- but I'd see just how much I've missed or the overwhelming amount of posts I'd need to go through and I'd feel so swamped with exhaustion and most importantly guilt, for not clearing the air up sooner to reassure you guys that I'm, y'know, alive, and not dead in a ditch somewhere. And I'd procrastinate cause typing it all out is hard and I'd give up halfway every time and it's just not fair to you all!

I thought I was handling it well when I started going out and socializing more, instead of staying cooped up at home on my computer all day. and in the first draft of this post I made months ago I was gonna detail some of the fun plans I had, for my life and for this blog :D but relaxing my strict study schedule and letting go a bit of my tight routine, thinking it was better than wringing myself dry to keep it up, backfired horribly, to say the least.

I know right?? so silly to be hung up on stupid shit like studies of all things! but this is a very important thing for me considering my career plans and the competitivity encouraged by everyone I'm surrounded by, the pressure of keeping up adding to my already stressful days. I had to fix myself up first and I couldn't handle the strain nor interact with people and thinking of jobs and exams sapped my energy so much it's frankly embarrassing. writing this feels so cheesy too and it frustrates me to know I could've come back a month earlier if it weren't for that, but I also know putting all of this into words then would just sound like incoherent venting (not that this is very different tbf) and I wasn't in the right headspace to address my absence, or anything really- I didn't want everyone to see me return when I couldn't muster up a genuinely positive message, let alone talk to anyone with a shadow of my usual cheer

I feel like a complete mess and It drives me up the wall how depressed I've gotten. I debated deleting this blog so many times 'cause the fear of disappointing my audience and my friends, for lack of a more fitting sentiment, made me feel even shittier. I'm constantly thinking if this wall of text is worth posting, or if it's better not to burden you all with all my sappy troubles as if it's the end of the world. Trust me, I'll be fine. I'm not trying to dramatize this situation, but I don't think I'm up to pretending I'm all sunshine and enthusiasm you're all accustomed to.

So sorry for worrying you all! I'll try to catch up, deliver some missed birthday gifts, and answer some asks while I'm at it! Again, I can't state how much I appreciate your support throughout the years. It's frankly a miracle I kept any of you around with how much I keep popping and leaving at random with no warning. I definitely can't promise for my stay to be without a hitch, and if you don't mind an inconsistent schedule you're free to stay of course, but I'm afraid I can't sustain the pace I had when I first started this blog. I'll keep posting art, but lower my activity in the fandom sphere to reduce the strain on my mental health. so fewer rants and walls of text, more art, and less stress overall. Love you all and thanks for waiting for this long <3

[turtletaubwrites]

Lynna Life Update! (good shit)

Passed my background checks. Big Brother either didn’t find my smut, or they’re totally chill about all of us heathens, and our imaginary polycules 😏🥰😅

(Below the cut content warnings: discussion of big stress but with relief, brief mention of my mental health disorders, work stress/drama, brief mention of medical visits required for new job, the stress of responsibilities and concerns for clients support needs)

Last week was absolutely wild.

I asked for 3 weeks before my start date so I could get set up before alerting the old job (in case the old one retaliated like they did to other managers that called them out). I put in my two weeks on Friday, then spent the entire weekend in a panic about the conditional requirements for the new job offer.

My OCD, and PTSD were acting up like crazy, no thoughts but the worst possible scenarios. Main concern was references since that company was the only related position I’ve ever held, and before that I was self employed or bartending. I was terrified that these people I gave everything to for five years would be petty (like I’ve seen them be for the past year) (especially since they are fucked without me, this county has literally no one else to manage it).

In one week while working with clients full time, I passed multiple background checks + fingerprinting, got the in person CPR/AED/First Aid certification, got another round of flu and covid shots, passed my physical (isn’t it just so crazy that companies aren’t allowed to discriminate against employees with disabilities when hiring, but if people share their disabilities during their work physical they often don’t get the job? And if they’re caught lying during the hiring process the companies are legally protected when they fire them for those same disabilities that they wouldn’t have gotten hired for 🤔🤷‍♀️ so totally weird right, what’s up with that?), got my tb test started, and supplied all of the necessary documents.

All I have left are the references.

… and I still haven’t heard back from the boss.

But the hiring manager called today and I explained (lightly, lol) my concerns with the previous company, and she said I don’t need to use him, and I don’t even need related or recent references. I still don’t have a lot since I was there for so long, but I’ve got a list to call this week.

Now it’s just the chaos of helping my clients who will have no support when I leave in two weeks.

I’ve only written 2.5 scenes of my outlined draft for chapter 35 😭😭 I’m hoping I can write more this week now that I’m not in full blown panic mode, but I have so much to do to get my clients set up before I leave.

There’s just not enough time to help them with all of their needs, but I’m hoping to leave a roadmap for them and whoever their next support might be.

I’m trying not to feel guilty. I’m trying to figure out a way to tell them to get a different fucking program, but unfortunately I’ll still be interacting with the same government agency they report to at the old company, so I don’t want to be unprofessional.

I’m in mega stress, chronic mama bear, overly responsible brain mode, and my head is spinning.

But y’all…

I’m finally feeling happy and confident that I got that job again after a week of panic.

It’s exactly the job I wanted, it fits every stipulation, and it’s even better! I want to start right this second. The hiring manager even asked if I want to start next week, but I need to support my clients.

I also need to eat some food now though, holy crap. I can’t believe I did all of that in 7 days. Bonkers.

Two more weeks!! Anyone got some tasteful/affordable recommendations for office attire? Lol, I’ll be dressing like Numbers Girl in her boring life soon 😅

Can’t wait to catch a breath and catch up with y’all 😭🥰

~Lynna 💜✨

[murkystarlight]

I've always wondered how people made playlists for characters. Or an entire fandom. Or anything really(I'm horrible at it. Or maybe I just don't know enough songs)

But I did manage to think of songs the new order would sing at karaoke, or just singing skills. I don't actually have songs I think they would sing. But we do have what I wrote down for musical abilities! (This thing was in my drafts for months-)

Jesse

Good at singing. But not very good with rhythms(those darn quick time events don't help!! Arghah)

But like the few songs they've sung their entire lives?? Yeah. The rythm kind of got stuck in their brains. And can keep up to it.

Probably would sing something like... breakup songs, the most. But like, happy break up songs(like.. not happy. But you know.. the 'I broke up with you, but I dont care. You were crap anyways. I'm so out of your league' kind of breakup songs). Why? I thought it'd be funny. Okay? I don't know why-

Olivia

She's a good singer. But she doesn't really like singing in front of crowds. So like.. only with her close friends. But she has a really nice singing voice. Can't reach the really high notes, but manages most of them(even if they're not fully perfect)

I think she would sing more calmer songs.

I think she would know how to play the piano or violin (think she got a good musical ear)(I also thought of her having a dj board thing--)

Axel

He has a loud voice. He covers his weakness of singing with that loud voice. Can't hit a high note? Just scream! Scream the crap out of your throat. But his neck is fine. He screams often, and it takes more than just 'screaming to get a high note' to damage his throat. So he can hit the high notes... well, it does the job. He can get the high notes done. And speaking of high notes, he would sing Hatsune Miku a lot(I- don't know why😃)

If he was to play an instrument I'd say something like.. the drums?

Petra

She doesn't really sing. But she isn't horrible at it. Maybe with practice she'll be better? But when she does sing, she sticks to the easy ones. If there is a high note in the song, she'll just skip that part. Just- everything goes quiet all of a sudden. When the high note part ends, she starts singing again.

She sings anything as long as she knows the song(and likes it) and if it's not something too cheesy(either she doesn't like it, or she just has a big ego).

And for instruments(which.. I apparently also started writing down in this post), drums and guitar/base?

Lukas

I think. He would be able to hit high notes. Like.. really high ones. But the problem is, he can only do it in one song. Or the next day he won't be able to speak. He also has to take care of his throat before and after the song.

Think he would sing jazz for some reason. I have- no idea why. Or country. With a guitar maybe(I'm really just throwing things out there at this point). And maybe K-pop. Cause... I like that theory(also the reason why he can do high notes?)

Instruments; guitar. Maybe piano?

So, from here. I guess... dynamics?

After a while, Olivia, Axel and Lukas has to sit down and catch their breath(Olivia and Lukas mostly because they're tired, low energy. And Axel.. he can still go on. But he gets pulled down since he keeps trying to hit the high notes by screaming) So that leaves Petra having to deal with Jesse. Jesse wants to sing. While Petra... she's kind of tired of it by now.

Jesse likes singing duets(or more people) together. So everyone sings a duet with Jesse at least once if they go karaoke together.

Axel(most of the time) doesn't actually know the Japanese lyrics when he sings Miku. He just copies whatever he heard or sees on screen.

Lukas, actually knows the lyrics to the K-pop he sings. He reads books and stuff(yh. That's not a very good reason. Is it..). If he does like K-pop, he would've tried learning it. Other than that, I think he would know a lot of different languages. Even not fully. But know some words and phrases

Jesse and Axel would sing in the shower

Olivia once cheated during karaoke by messing around with the wiring. She got bored while waiting for her turn(the others only realized it after getting the perfect score three times in a row)

Annnnd I realized I didn't think of an instrument Jesse would know how to play. And I have thought of~ the flute. I was thinking of f!jesse. But imagine f!jesse and m!jesse being siblings and they both signed up to learn. F!jesse loves it amd m!jesse doesn't. But they've gone too far. He can't quit now

And that's all. Thank you 👐

[basilpaste]

(actually got around to writing connies rude little ass being rude! yippee!!!!)

You sit on the cold damp ground, your only layer of protection a thin sheet folded thrice over. The chill sneaks into your bones. It's an unusual temperature for this time of year, but you suppose everything in Vaugarde is unusual at the moment. A little cold is nothing compared to the current state of affairs.

You hold a loosely held together manuscript on your lap. The draft is really more or less finished, but since your editor is currently frozen in time, you figured you might as well at least try to be mindful of your own work. Though with all the previous novels in the series at home, you can't easily screen for continuity. Just another reason to get to that wretched King.

Tapping your pencil to paper, your eyes glaze over the text. Ah! Désirée has an extra accent on her name there. You cross it off. No more Désiréé. Honestly, were you asleep while writing this chunk? The sentence structure of the next line is also… a bit off? It's technically correct, but it really would scan better in Poterian than Vaugardian. You miss writing in Poterian. Ugh.

"Conifleur."

You do not look away from your work, though you do jump. "Odile. I'm shocked to see you up this early. And here I though your 'old bones' needed some rest, dear."

"I'm sure. Just like how you are so desperate for your beauty sleep, right?"

You scoff. She thinks she has you clocked. It's annoying in the worst of ways to have to contend with someone who is no better than you. You know her type. You aren't stupid.

"I'm flattered that you're so concerned for me, darling! But can't one work in peace?" Your pencil scratches the page, leaving a thin line across the margin.

She sighs. From the corner of your eye, you catch her rummaging around in a small supply bag. "Of course not. You're here."

"Oh?" You tilt your head in faux-curiosity, "Is the crone annoyed with poor me? I've done nothing to you today, I'll have you know."

"Urgh."

"It's true! You're the one who went out of your way to make yourself known, dear. I was busy."

"Busy working on something that will help us on our travels, I'm sure." She kneels at the fire pit, sparking it with paper craft, "Like lighting the camp fire."

You blink, "I thought we were going to get moving when the others woke?"

"Yes," she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, "but it's cold out. Since you've apparently put yourself on 'watch', it's your job to make sure no one gets sick from it."

… Loath as you are to admit it, she does have you there. You hum in response.

"And where are you off to? I was under the impression that we were still a few days out from the next town."

"There's a caravan that should have set up shop not far from here. I'm doing a supply run. More mouths to feed means we can't afford to rely solely on whatever Isabeau or I can identify and what we have stored." She pulls a coin pouch from her bag by the drawstrings.

That newest mouth to feed. Siffrin was… an enigma. Something about them was familiar to you. You were quite certain you didn't know him personally, but there was a nagging feeling you couldn't shake. They were quite good with that dagger of theirs, though, so you couldn't complain too much.

"Yes, well, I absolutely believe in your ability to charm the merchant into selling us all of their resources for a reduced fee." You say, "You are known for your endearing personality, after all. You positively exude grace."

You don't have to be looking at her to know that she rolls her eyes at you. Hmph. "Gems alive. I'm not going there to haggle, Conifleur. Just to buy."

"Shame," you hum, "and I was so looking forward to a bountiful harvest."

"Are you going to come with me or are you just going to complain at me?"

You jump a bit despite yourself. You just don't understand it! It's no secret that the two of you don't think much of each other, and yet she still invites you along. She has an ulterior motive, surely. To neg you, you suppose. You don't buy it.

You smile, "I thought I was on watch, dear! As talented as I may be, I simply cannot be in two places at once."

"Urgh." She slips her coin pouch back into the bag, slinging it over her shoulder, "By all means. Stay right where you are. I figured someone other than me might enjoy having a say in what I buy for us."

"Wake dear Mirabelle or young Isabeau if you need a second opinion, darling." You scribble out a rough edit of that problem sentence from before.

"… The two of them deserve the rest."

You nod solemnly. That, at least, is something the two of you can agree on. Your companions are much too young for the burdens placed on them. Dear Mirabelle especially.

That said... "That they do. But Rejuvenation only knows that dear Mirabelle will dread waking up so late. Not that it's 'late' at all. You know as well as I how she is."

"Mirabelle would appreciate having a say." She mutters, glancing back at the tents.

"Exactly, darling!" You explain, bright as anything, "You two have fun with that! Until then: I am busy, I fear. Don't bother me anymore. Thank you."

She turns away from you without another word. Good. You can actually think without her incessant badgering.

... The fire warms you in the cold morning. You clench your jaw. You've got work to do, dear. Back to it!

[briannysey]

You have a fun short story idea. You sit down to write it. Nothing big only like 2k words.

You don’t quite finish it. You go to work. In your cubicle the idea itches like a scab in your brain. At last you get home. The story has grown, you’ll need a few extra words to get it finished. No biggie. You keep going. It gets late. Wow, the tale has grown in the telling. Just over 4k words and it’s not done. You really shouldn't miss any extra sleep, but ten extra minutes of writing won’t hurt.

The next morning, between clients you doodle outlines for the story. That’s weird, to do the story justice it’ll need more words. Quite without noticing it’s become a novelette. You forget about your last clients of the day as you wander in the world of your story, trying to figure out how to get it right, how to do it justice.

You call in sick the next day, and the day after that. Inspiration comes so rarely you know? We have to chase these things when they come for us.

You sail past the word count for a novella, and soon enough you have to face the truth: you’ve got a gen-u-ine novel on your hands. You’ve had so much success with the writing! It would be a shame to go back to work.

When you explain it to your doctor he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “I don't understand how that made you break your foot,” he says. But work says they just need in the office to do the job. Your doctor signs the FMLA paperwork, then HR. You have some savings, you’ll be fine while you ride this inspiration where it’ll take you.

You miss your brother’s birthday, then your mother’s. You stop answering calls. Somewhere somehow the story has soared past acceptable word counts for a novel. No publisher would publish a book this big. You make the reasonable decision to split the novel into two. This is good, it will help you capture the themes of your story better.

You stop answering your phone. When your angry family knocks on the doors to your house you lock the entries and yell back “I'm sick, I'm so very sick. I’ll let you know when I'm well!”

Your fingertips blister and bleed in their sacrifices for the novels (a trilogy now!), so you use talk-to-text to draft for a bit.

Disaster strikes.

Your laptop, over-exerted from months of running word processors, struggling under the weight of files with thousands of pages of text, at last collapses into a gruesome screen of white text on violent blue background. You despair. You anguish. You scream until the neighbors call in a wellness check, and you fool the officer with claims of “too loud horror tv.”

You sell your car and walk down to the computer shop with your laptop. You use the car-proceeds to get the files onto a hard drive, buy a printer, buy a shitty little used laptop, then walk home in brutal Summer’s heat. You place delivery orders for pens and boxes and boxes of ink refills. You order paper too. Mountains of it, in fact.

You’re not quite sure how or when, but the trilogy became a series and the series became a layered set of chronicles. You’re sure of it now: this is your magnum opus. Someday people will write about you and your boiling, uncontainable story.

You’re running out of money, and have to eat. You order as much oatmeal as you can in huge bulk shipments. They should last long enough. Your family has long since stopped knocking, and if they're calling the calls wouldn't come through the cancelled, unpaid line anyway.

You run out of paper. You start writing on walls and furniture and over old books in your library. You run out of ink, so you use pencils and crayons and old paint cans, and then you stretch the old paint with water until the town shuts off your water.

Your skin starts to hang loose on you as you lose weight. You bruise heavily when you trip down the stairs in the morning, and your mouth tastes like so much iron as your gums bleed of their own accord. The oatmeal grinds and scratches between your aching teeth. You set up rain-catches at the bottoms of the gutters, and though the water doesn't taste great, it’s a small price to pay for your passion. You rarely tire these days, or sleep. The story fills you with feverish energy. There’s so much more to write and so little time!

You start to get lost in the shifting plot lines. Some smaller stories repeat themselves in spirals, and you’re not sure if you had a point with these narrative recursions. Did you flanderize this character? Is that character dying in this scene but alive in the next? Perhaps you were a little too ambitious for your first big story. But you tell yourself that that’s madness. You write the stories that come to you, no matter how huge. When you stretch to new heights you become a better writer! Think about how much better the next story will be now that you have all this experience!

Disaster again. You’ve run out of paint and homemade charcoal and ink.

A knock comes at the door, a man in an ugly button-up and tie claiming that your house is getting foreclosed. Something about an unpaid mortgage. You realize that this was the wake up call you needed. The opportunity to fix things.

“Please, come in!”

“Oh my god, what’s happened in here?”

“I think I have a problem sir. I’m very sorry about the unpaid mortgage. Here sit down, can you tell me what the problem is?”

“What the problem is? We’ve called you a dozen times! The house is already- this writing is all over the walls! Why is the writing in circles on the wall over there?”

“I dunno, seemed like the right way to do it.”

“And are these… family photos that have been written over?”

“Yes sir. I think, I think I have a serious problem. Do you think you can help me?”

“I- I don't know. This seems like we might need to call for a psychiatric crisis. The good news is- what are you doing with that knife!”

At last you have an ink refill! And what beautiful red, red ink.

[penname-artist]

Merry Chrysler-

I MEANT TO POST THESE CHRISTMAS HEADCANONS A YEAR AGO

THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS SINCE THEN

I'M SORRY CHILDREN YOU CAN HAVE YOUR CANDY NOW

I swear I am totally not biased when I say that I'll side with Shu's headcanon of Lightning being very into singing and then getting caught doing so and being good at doing so while putting up Christmas decorations. Okay. Maybe a LITTLE bit biased.

But I am NOT biased when I say that he and Mater BOTH do it and they have a habit of starting a lyric and waiting for the other to give them the next one so they can duet the rest. It's adorable, but it drives the town crazy just as much.

Red always puts something happy and festive on the old Stanley statue. Some years it's a wreath. Some years he has a red glowing nose. Sometimes he gets little antlers. It's a nice nod to his love for the holidays, and it makes Lizzie so happy.

Finn and Leland used to play that silly Hide the Pickle game on Christmas morning, except with very ramped up stakes because they loved a challenge. Since his passing, Finn's now dangerously taught both Mater and Holley to play. Mater tries his best, though he's not great at hiding them and he's lucky at best with finding, and Holley, well...let's just say that she did such a good job her first time trying to hide it that they all gave up looking, and ended up having to buy another one to use.

Every year, Dusty goes out and puts up tacky Christmas lights for the year. And every year, he and Chug get tangled in it. And every year until 2013, Dottie was tasked with helping them out. Since 2013, every year she puts it up to Skipper and Sparky to do instead. Never fails.

You ever heard of something called a "Drive thru nativity scene"? I've been to one, once. You sit in your car and drive through a live reenactment of the towns and the nativity, and you pay fake coin taxes at certain stops, and dad almost got put in fake jail by Roman soldiers because he wouldn't pay those taxes anyways the point is they have one that they do at Radiator Springs now and over the years they have garnered a lot of traffic. Sally and Lightning only did the Mary and Joseph bit one year, and it ended in Joseph being run over by fans and backing up the line, so he lent his role to someone else (it changes every year)

During his reign over the Lodge, Cad Spinner went above and beyond for Christmas light displays during the holidays, which ate up the electric bill for one and left a fire hazard for another. When Jammer took over his position, though, the annual display had become wildly popular, so - with the assistance and better pay of the Piston Peak fire and rescue - they kept the event running. So long as Ryker stayed close by.

The Smokejumpers pulled an Epic Christmas Prank on - or rather with - Cabbie one year. He had no idea what everyone was giggling about, as they boarded up to drop over a fire. And then later, Maru held up a photo he got of him while he was taking off with them. He rolled his eyes at the sight of the bright red "ELF BACKUP" sign written across his hatch.

Blade's not really a Christmas guy, but, there's one thing he enjoys during the Christmas season, and that's peppermints. He's fucking addicted. Maru will catch him swiping them from the little bowl Patch puts out in the mess hall, and they go through a whole bag in less than two weeks. Addicted I tell you.

Specifically in humanized land, Cabbie has whittled - while Windlifter paints - simplified wooden nutcracker statues, reflecting the features of each of the Smokejumpers. There's five on the mantle in the mess hall for them, and another shelf that holds a handful more for the jumpers past.

[supersoakerfullofblood]

Beta Reading, Workshopping, and Peer Editing for Indie Writers: a Guide

Beta reading is a term you might hear tossed out as a vague buzzword, kind of like how people talk about "character development" and "worldbuilding"; I've made a bunch of posts to demystify words in that latter category, but beta reading is a different type of term. Where those latter words and their ilk are terms of craft, things we can discuss in theory ("this is how I think characters are developed best"), beta reading is about a novel after its first draft and first wave-ish of edits. Pretty much everything before and after the production of a novel or story is purely up to what works best for the writer, so this post will introduce beta reading if it's new to you, and I'll give you my process if you want to tinker with it!

Beta reading is when interested readers work through your polished manuscript and make workshop comments so you can make an extra wave of edits. Publishing houses usually have two waves of this type of reading--alpha reading (AR) and beta reading (BR). If you can find enough people to alpha read for you (and you want alpha readers), go for it! But if you're confident in your grammar, your ability to craft a scene and characters, and the other formalities of creative writing, alpha reading isn't a requirement (as an indie. If you ever query your work to a house, it'll probably go through alpha reading).

Alpha reading is to catch grammar and syntax slips, mischaracterizations, character development that doesn't add up, excesses of adverbs and adjectives, and other craft faux-pas that the average reader wouldn't catch. Your alpha readers should pretty exclusively be other writers.

Beta reading is to gauge what your audience is thinking or feeling while they read your work. If your beta readers want to make alpha reading comments ("I don't feel like [character] would do that here"), that's A-okay, especially if you didn't have alpha readers, but that shouldn't be your chief concern with your betas. These are your audience surrogates! The job of beta readers is to tell you what they think or feel: "I like this," "I don't like this"; "This paragraph hit me hard"; "This word is confusing"; etc. If they add more words to their comments, that's A-okay ("I like this because these words go well together" or "This word is confusing--does it mean X or Y?") but not necessary! If your beta readers are your audience and not people who really get how writing works, then you should be taking any reasonings in their comments as loose, loose suggestions. Maybe those words that go well together to one reader feel, as you look at them a second time, cliche. Or perhaps the confusing nature of a word or phrase was by design. In any case, try to see your beta readers as a "live audience reaction" and not a "live reactionary critique."

One aside about alpha/beta reading: "this is bad" and "this is good" comments are toxic and should be avoided at all costs. Tell your readers to avoid these before they start writing. No good can come from these. Even "I don't like this" and "I like this" are worlds better, though still not great. But absolutely warn your readers against using objective blanket statements like "good/bad" as they read.

Now that we've laid the foundations, I'll go into my own process so hopefully everything above makes more sense.

Before I give my manuscript to beta readers, I go through 2-3 waves of revision on my own. After I finish my first draft, I wait about a month to let the dust settle, to gain at least a little emotional distance from the project so I can look at it a little more objectively. Then, I read it through, revising for content: cut this scene, add a scene here, chop paragraphs and sentences, add paragraphs and sentences, move this chapter here, make sure this character actually functions as he should in the narrative, etc. These are my macro edits.

Then I let it sit a week or two and go into line editing: punctuation and syntax, word choice, tweaking figurative language, etc. Close pruning of your work. Filing your nails after you've clipped them.

The third read-through is at a normal reading pace, as if you were a reader, to catch anything that may have slipped past during your close edits and revisions. This third read-through is likely the first time you've read your manuscript as it should be read--a book! This step, then, is a victory lap, but it's also one last troubleshoot. You might not find the errors in a computer program until you run the program. So too it is with writing.

This is a lot of work! You might want to relegate these tasks to your readers, but DO NOT!!! If you're still heavily revising and editing your work, don't let your readers to the table. This is your work and your story, and outside influence will stray it from what you want. Own this. Buckle down. Read.

Once you've got your polished draft, it's time to contact your readers! I would recommend 4-6 readers total unless you think you can handle more cooks in your kitchen at a time (I cannot). I typically just ask some of my friends to beta for me. Here's an example text:

"Hey all! I finished that book about church camp a while ago and was wondering if you'd beta read for me! Basically, I'd just need you to read through the book and make comments in the sidebar whenever you like something, don't understand something, are excited or intrigued by something, or other general impressions. You can comment however often or little you feel comfortable with--some people make one comment a chapter, others make multiple comments a page--anything works great. Really all you shouldn't comment are blanket statements of "this is bad" or "this is good," but feel free even to say stuff like "I like this" or "I don't like this." Just avoid objective language when possible.

I don't have any money for this, so sorry in advance, and if possible, I'd love for all of my beta reading to be done by the end of summer.

Let me know if you're down or not! :)"

I really have had readers comment that much and that little on my manuscripts. This is normal. If your readers are supposed to comment whenever something in their attention triggers, different readers' attentions will trigger differently.

It's also a wise idea to form your beta reading group (again, especially if you aren't doing a wave of alpha reading) as a mix of people from different backgrounds and writing experience. My church camp novel group is below:

Person A who went to church camp with me, is into poetry

Person B is into fanfiction, little church experience, mindful of social issues

Person C has little church or writing experience, mindful of social issues

Person D is very into writing, pretty into church

Person E is very into social issues and church, not a writer

I would advise to find a similar balance of people who are into your subject matter and those who aren't.

It's also helpful to give them a timeframe to read by, and make this longer than they need. I gave people ~two months for my ~60k-word novel.

Also, as a little incentive for your readers, plan something for when everyone's done! A post-beta party! Something like this will also encourage you through the process :)

Once you have your betas' comments, it's time for one last wave of revisions. Compile these comments however you like, and start tweaking. I like to have each beta's document open so I can cross-reference while I work through my own doc. And remember: these are audience comments, not writer comments (unless you explicitly brought writers on). If someone says something confuses them, that might just be their cross to bear. If none of your other betas were confused by it, or if one of your betas compliments the same section, it may be worth ignoring that first comment. Try to rule with the majority when you can, and take everything with a grain of salt. "I don't like this" doesn't mean it needs to be changed. It means you should figure out why that reader doesn't like it.

If you have any questions, my asks are open! Again, this is a pretty open concept where anything works as long as it works for you, so don't feel pressured to "get it right." But if you have any questions or suggestions, I'm all ears :)

Hope this helps!

[jack-kellys]

For the bad things happen bingo: Jack + bridal carry?

oh well hey there stranger. it was very much my instinct to have jack be carried but im actually so strong and didn't (quite) cave. also i made this a treat for u

available bingo squares here, ao3 series here! there r also some details in my ao3 tags/notes that make a few things about jack more objective.

Jack doesn’t like his new job, but he’s used to being good at things–adapting to things, maybe–that he doesn’t quite enjoy. 

Selling papers hadn’t been his life’s goal or anything, but he needed people to look out for him and a roof so he got damn good at it all. Same goes for these ridiculous cartoons for Pulitzer: Jack keeps his head down, his trap shut, and his pencil busy. By now he’s learned that making a bunch of very similar drafts is the way to go, so the old men upstairs can mull and hum and mutter about which reads the best when they all read the damn same. 

What is great about this newer gig is Katherine. Without it he’s not sure he’d see nearly as much of her as he’d like, and there’s so many doors to nothing and cramped little hiding places for them to giggle and tease and kiss in when they take a break from work. And since Jack isn’t technically granted any breaks, all Katherine needs to do is talk down to his boss with a cold glare and the whole matter is solved. And more importantly, they can go back to locking lips. The best days are when Davey comes by before the evening edition comes out after school, and the three of them share a cigarette. Katherine’s started to look at Davey the way Jack knows he has been for a while now, and he’s not sure what it means, but it makes butterflies reawaken in his stomach again. 

What’s not great about the gig is observing Katherine’s work life. 

Since the strike, she’s not needing to type up just one article anymore- by now it’s three, and when the Sun’s offices close for the day she ventures over to the World because she has a key and uses the typewriters there. Her father never stops her. And Jack sees her, because, you know, his rules for himself could also be stricter, but he’s used to that schedule. Up at dawn and asleep after he collapses has been his life, never hers. Jack watches her try to adjust- she’s always shooting him an upbeat smile, usually excited to be writing–and writing and writing and writing–when it’s something that interests her, but Jack doesn’t think he’ll get used to seeing circles under her amber eyes anytime soon. 

It’s November now, late in it, the time of year where there’s already a dent in supplies at the lodge that makes Jack sweat since it’s harder to steal in the winter. Jack’s at his drawing desk early this morning, wanting to have some time between when he gets out and the evening edition to try and hit up a few shops for medicines they’re running low on. Blink’s got a nasty cough right now, and the boy’s trying to puff out his chest about it, but Jack knows the truth. 

He heads up the stairs for a quick smoke break after a few hours, and catches Katherine coming in the front door from the cold in a hurry.

“Hey,” he says, greeting her just inside the main door. “You’re here early, what’s the deal at the-”

Jack observes her, and Katherine must read his mind. She sighs, shaking her head. 

“Jack, I’m okay. Rough morning,” she excuses. There’s no way a rough morning can excuse the redness surrounding her nose, the bags underneath her eyes so obvious they nearly look purple, which pops against how pale her skin looks. “And it’s cold out, too, so-”

“You catch Blink’s cold?” he asks. A middle ground, since whatever is going on with her looks worse than a cough. 

“Maybe,” Katherine agrees, which means she’s got to be feeling worse than a cold. “I’ll take it easier today if it makes you feel better.”

“It’ll make you feel better.”

Jack glances down, feeling her fingers against his own. Katherine threads her hand into his, before lifting up, dawn-pink lips pressing a small, cold kiss to his dark knuckles. 

“Go draw, Mr. Kelly,” she says to him, taking her hand away. “I’ll see you at three.”

Three is too long, and Jack can feel the time ticking by in the back of his mind, each hour making his palms itch worse. It’s not easy for him to get up and away–and especially into other parts of the huge building–without Katherine, so if she doesn’t make sure to come down and visit him he can’t really go up and see her. 

He practically rockets into motion the moment the clock strikes three, shuffling his drafts into his portfolio and shoving it into his desk, tugging his coat on, hiking his bag over his shoulder, then stands-

-up too fast. He wobbles, gripping the back of his chair and blinking his sudden spinning vision straight. Jack takes a breath, and finally exits the room, glaring at his boots. He hates whenever Mush’s hypothesis is proven a little right- Jack’s got something weird with his blood, wrong with the iron in his body. It gets him jumpy in the winter, gets him worried about everyone and the cold. 

Glancing around the hall, he sneaks up the stairs to where Katherine prefers to work- Bryan Denton’s office, who’s been out on assignments after shifting from the Sun for two months now and taught Kath a lot of what she knows. Jack knocks, before pushing open the door. 

“Oh, Kathy,” he sighs, smiling slightly. Her head’s tucked on the typewriter’s keys as if it were a pillow, arms rested under her chin as her chest rises and falls evenly. Jack’s sort of glad she fell asleep- doing all this work for hours on end in her condition hadn’t been Katherine’s best idea. 

Jack crosses over to her, drawing a hand through her hair. He pauses.

The ends of her wavy fringe his sweaty, he notices. Jack swipes his hand over her forehead.

Hot- burning hot. And her hands are cold when one of his own closes around them.

“Kath. Katherine,” Jack says, and says again. He shakes her shoulder gently. “Katherine, come on. Wake up, sweetheart.”

Slowly, her eyes flutter open with a small moan. Katherine’s eyebrows scrunch, confused- probably wondering why the first thing she’s seeing is an ‘f’ key. 

“Did I…? Jack?” she mumbles, lifting her head. Her face turns to his, and she pouts, blinking sluggishly. “Oh, I didn’t go down to you, did I. I’m sorry.” 

“That’s alright,” he reassures, two hands on her shoulders now. “Day’s over, yeah? Lemme get you- I’m gonna take you to the lodge for now. So you can rest some more.” 

She shakes her head, expression pinched.

“Not necessary,” she insists, carefully standing up. “Everyone falls asleep at their desk, right? Right. One time- one…”

She sways suddenly, but catches herself just as Jack’s muscles go taut. 

“One time.. thing,” she manages. She takes a step, and her dull eyes flutter, and Jack’s taut muscles send him surging forward as she falls sideways, only six inches or so from the side of her head slamming into the wall. Jack catches her, thank god, her form crashing heavily into his outreached arms. He hefts her up shakily, her temple finding his shoulder to rest on while his arms curl around her back and under her knees. 

“Kath?” he tries. “Katherine. Katherine.” 

She doesn’t wake, expression lax save for the strained twitch of her brow. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, because he’s alone, with his unconscious partner, in an office that isn’t his and in a building that doesn’t like letting him inside. And Kath’s not waking up. Jack’s heart starts to pound louder, it feels like- sounds like.

Stairs. Stairs. He needs the stairs. 

Jack rushes to them, doing his best not to jostle Kath as he starts downward. He needs to mind his footsteps- Katherine is practically his height, and her dress could easily cause both of them to go sprawling. 

He makes it down, trying not to breathe too hard, and shoves with his back out the front door.

“Jack? -Kath?”

Jack’s head swings to the right, and Davey’s there. 

“What happened?” the boy rushes out, striding over to Jack. “I was waiting for you two, they wouldn’t let me- is she alright? What-”

Jack lets Davey touch her forehead, watches him recoil and his eyebrows shoot up, before he traces her cheek gently.

“She’s sick. Came in and worked a whole day anyway,” Jack mutters. The November breeze makes Katherine shiver suddenly, but she still doesn’t wake, only looks more pained. Jack bites his lip.

“Hold her for a moment?” he asks Davey.

“What?” Davey splutters, eyes going huge. “Jack I can’t- I dunno if-”

Jack sets her in the taller boy’s arms anyway, and quickly sheds his coat. “Knew you were strong enough, Dee.”

“Whatever,” Davey mutters, narrowing his eyes at Jack, who sets his coat over Katherine. “Jack, you need that.”

“I ain’t sick,” he says, and carefully takes her back into his grasp.

“You’ll get sick. Or, you’ll-”

Jack starts walking. He’s fine. His nose is already chilled to the bone, but he’ll manage. He hears Davey quickly keep up, and they walk in strained silence for a while.

“You know, it’s my textbook on anatomy I had Mush borrow,” Davey murmurs. “And I read a good amount of it.”

“Good for you,” Jack mutters, though his body tenses up more than it already is as another gust of wind blows through. 

“It ain’t good for you to be out and cold like this,” Davey continues, and Jack keeps his gaze pointedly forward. “You’re already losing color and it’s only been ten minutes-”

“Dave,” Jack interjects, gazing down at Katherine. His coat’s helped, maybe, but she still shivers and burns and shakes in his arms and he wishes he could somehow grip her even closer. “I’m worried about her, alright? Lemme- just lemme hold her.”

Davey goes quiet for a moment. Before too long, Jack feels the boy’s arm come around his waist, rubbing his back, warming him.

“Okay,” Davey says softly. “Okay, Jack.”

They make it to the lodge, and the front door of it is all Jack can focus on. He lets Davey open it, and he heads in with her, going up the stairs, away from the colder first floor. He sets her in Racer’s lower bunk, since that’s always a safe bet. Pulls the covers up. 

Now what. 

There’re other things he should do, he knows that, but his brain can’t seem to connect the dots, the red string of his thought process being held limply with no direction. 

The hand on his back returns, and his name’s being said.

“-ck, you should get some rest too,” Davey’s saying. “You listening?”

“Always,” is Jack’s smart reply. “Yeah, I- well, I gotta run down to Mush first if he’s around, let ‘im know what’s going on.”

“Well, I can do that,” Davey brushes off. Then, he takes Jack’s hands, finding his wrists and cupping his palms around them. “You need to warm up, and rest, Jack, you just carried Katherine for a mile.”

“Yeah but I-” Jack shakes his head slightly. His shoulders hike as he fights a sudden shiver, slipping out of Davey’s hands as the red string finally lands around a thought. “I gotta grab some extra blankets, too.” 

“Jack-”

He stands up, gripping the bottom of the top bunk to steady himself, blinking a few times. Fine. He’s fine. He’s going- he was going to get… something. 

The red string suddenly slips away, and his head aches, his chest clenches, and he’s really, really cold. His vision flits between darkness and wood bunks as his eyelids flutter. Stronger arms than he thought he knew slip under his own right as he feels he’s about to sink, though, and his face lands against a warm chest. He yawns, lightheaded, brain feeling separate from the rest of his body.

“Breathe,” Davey’s saying, urgently. “Jack. Jackie, can you hear me? Just breathe, in slowly, out slowly.” 

Jack’s trying to focus, but he’s not totally sure why he can’t, and his knees want to buckle. Davey’s strong, holding him up like this. Jack doesn’t feel like he’s holding anything. 

He feels his eyes close, which makes the breathing easier but the focusing harder. Davey’s holding him close, safe. He’s tracing the side of Jack’s head soothingly with a finger in the space between his braids, and Jack lets himself yawn again, though this time his brain feels less like it’s suffocating than it did a minute ago. 

“You gonna let me find Mush?” Davey says softly, but Jack can picture the ‘I was right’ smirk that’s probably residing on the boy’s pink lips. Jack simply nods into his chest. He lets Davey sit him on the bunk, still leaned into the other until he feels Davey shift him- trying to lay him down. Jack thinks he falls asleep before the boy even can- he remembers Davey’s chest as his resting spot, not the pillow beside Katherine. 

He wakes groggily a couple hours later, his suspenders and dress shirt missing. His shoes are off, too, and there’s wavy, auburn hair tickling his nose and someone’s back he’s tucked into. Just barely, he raises his head, opening his eyes just enough. 

Katherine’s awake, thank god, attire loosened. Jack’s arm is rested over her hip, but she’s petting someone’s hair, looking down at someone the way she looks at Jack. His head raises higher.

Davey’s fast asleep sitting half on the floor, face pillowed by his arm on the bunk mattress and hair being delicately combed through by Katherine’s fingers. Suddenly she pauses, and glances behind her. Jack meets her gaze, and she looks exhausted, but she gives him a tired smile. Jack tries to return it despite the fog going through his brain. 

“Go back to sleep, Jackie,” she whispers, so gently it nearly convinces his eyes to shut then and there. “You’re off duty, alright?” 

“How long’s he been asleep?” he asks her anyway. He leans over her a little, arm slipping away from her waist to find Davey’s cheek to caress. 

“Maybe an hour,” she provides. “Adorable, hm?”

Jack hums his agreement, but feels his head bob downward, despite his desire to ask Katherine how she feels. Jack wraps himself closer around her middle, nuzzling his face between her shoulder blades. The hand that isn’t resting against Davey’s cheek finds Jack’s hand over her stomach, their fingers threading together. All three connected, like one snaking string. He smiles to himself. 

“Sleep, Jack,” Kath says again over her shoulder. He listens.