#i wrote this in a hurry but it's way more than I can usually write in this span of time

[yoshiyakiryu-archive]

Some fresh nonsense about joshneku losing over at @homoeroticbetrayal

"Fancy seeing you here," Joshua chimes from his perch on the cafe seat as Neku approaches the table. It's not Wildkat, but this side-street shop feels unnaturally empty, and all the more unreal for the presence of the smiling Composer, casually seated by the window.

He could be the most powerful entity in the city, but Neku's urge to roll his eyes and tell him to go fuck himself has the budding inescapability of an oncoming sneeze. Only four words in, Neku's already reminded that no matter how much he misses the asshole when he's gone, he's a pain in the ass to have a straightforward conversation with.

"You invited me," Neku gripes, unable to resist giving the eye roll. He slides onto the seat across from Joshua, feeling another one coming on already.

"Hmm, did I? I suppose I must have. Hee hee." Joshua slides one of the two cups in front of him towards Neku. "The coffee here is decent, you should give it a try."

"…Thanks."

He continues being suspicious for a moment, but ultimately trusts Joshua, and the knowledge that poisoning wasn't really his style. If he wants Neku back in the UG, there's nothing stopping Joshua from rattling another bullet through his poor, pre-punctured brain matter. The old one must still be in there, making him think humoring this conversation was a rational idea that won't just end in a headache.

Joshua smiles, two hands on his own paper coffee cup, fingers striking it in sequence, a steady expectant rhythm. As he watches Neku, the motions change. Taking a sip, the scales shift to an energetic tempo, striking keys he cannot see in time with music he cannot hear. Weirdo.

"What did you want, anyway?" Neku asks, setting the coffee down. There's little point in wasting time on pleasantries when Joshua deemed something catastrophic enough to take the risk of actually talking to him.

"Nothing to say about the coffee?"

"Not really." It's pretty average, as far as coffee goes, and it's not a surprise Joshua knows his order.

Joshua hums, digging his phone out of his pocket and adding to what seems to be, from Neku's view of the phone upside down across the table, a personal review log of local restaurants. "That's hardly a riveting opinion, but I'll include it. We wouldn't want to find Players erased of sheer boredom, would we?"

Whatever UG bullshit Joshua was pursuing, Neku wasn't making it his problem to know. He could guess, but he won't. He won't even think about it. Nope, no dead people business here.

Joshua frowns at him through the silence, bordering on a pout, and sets his phone down. 

Neku tilts his head, gesturing with his free hand.

"Well? Did something happen? Why are we here, Josh? Is reality about to collapse in on itself? Did someone important die? Double die?"

"No, no no no, nothing like that," Joshua says waving off his tone. "Well, people die of course, every day. But that's not my concern." He cuts Neku off before he can reply that yeah, it kind of is, by snatching his phone back off the table and waving it in Neku's face. "I'm here about this."

Oh.

That.

The homoerotic betrayal thing. He'd heard about it after the fact when three of his friends texted him their condolences on losing to Brutus and Caesar. He needed to ask for context, and to be frank, didn't know what to make of the whole thing. He could have gone without knowing that "iconic homoerotic betrayal" was a tournament he'd been nominated in, and privately thinks Joshua has got to find more normal ways of hitting on him. Ways that don't involve firearms.

"Isn't that over?" he asks, with little else to say. If it was over, they shouldn't have to worry about it. Problem solved. Neku out. The arcane and meta machinations of the multiverse can remain not his problem.

"Yes," Joshua says, all business, "but we lost."

"So?"

"So, we lost! After all our fans put in such heartwarming work about us too."

Neku mulls over the word "fans" for a long moment, and decides he doesn't want to consider the implications of that either. He shrugs. "Okay."

"Neku," Joshua says, placing the phone between them and folding his hands loosely over his drink, "I don't think you're taking this very seriously."

"No shit, Sherlock," Neku snaps, indulging that eye roll. "You're not telling me why I should."

"Because we lost," Joshua says, forced patience, as sincere as he ever gets, "and because I have reason to suspect there was UG involvement." He picks up his phone again, opening an app before handing it over. "Take a look. Do any words stand out to you?"

Neku takes the phone, and scrolls slowly, taking his time to make sure there was nothing obvious for Joshua to scold him about missing, and to make him squirm, until he sees a familiar word. "Memes?"

"An astute observation Neku! I knew I'd chosen you for a reason."

He's insufferable. Neku hands the phone back and sinks down in his seat. Unbelievable.

"Memes, yes." Joshua twirls a lock of hair around his index finger, and Neku takes a sip of coffee to disguise how closely he followed the movement.

"You think that we lost because everyone was Imprinted to vote against us?"

"In short, yes again," Joshua says, smiling once more. "Someone put on their thinking cap today."

Asshole. Bastard. Little snot.

Neku takes a deep breath and swallows the growl climbing his throat.

"Explain."

Joshua hums, then shrugs, palms up and put upon. "I believe there was a site-wide Imprinting campaign leading up to the bracket. Disguised as a celebration of the death of Julius Caesar. You of all people know how easily folks can be swayed by a trend." He slumps down onto his elbows, resting his chin in his hands. "Then we lost," he continues, annoyed. "And I don't like losing."

"Obviously. Isn't it kind of far-fetched to Imprint memes on a whole website?"

"You'd be surprised what some of the Higher Plane get up to in their spare time.

"…Right, don't tell me." He doesn't want to hear about angel hobbies. He doesn't want to think about angel hobbies. "I still don't get why you submitted us to that thing in the first place."

"I didn't."

Eye rolls must come in threes. Joshua has the audacity to look affronted.

"Okay. Sure. I'll believe that. Then why is this so important?"

"I can't tell you," Joshua says, gazing meaningfully into the middle distance fingers tangled in a stray lock of hair.

He is so full of shit. There is not one iota of Joshua that isn't composed of compacted, steaming, fresh shit. This is what happens when you cross the guy's competitive streak with a crush. He should confiscate Joshua's phone. Joshua should talk to him more often.

"But! We could get a second chance," Joshua says, affected wistfulness gone. "I know how big a fan you are of second chances. We'll win the revival match." Joshua leans in, devious and conniving across from him, and Neku knows what's coming even before Joshua does a fingergun in his direction. "You will win us the revival match. By any means necessary."

"And how am I going to do that?" Neku crosses his arms.

Another shrug. "Start Imprinting memes on people yourself. Find the culprit rigging things from before. I'm not fussed about the strategy, as long as we win."

Neku closes his eyes. "I don't get a choice here, do I?"

"It's a homoerotic betrayal tournament, Neku. That's against the spirit of it, wouldn't you say?"

"Fair enough." It isn't. Not really. But Neku's learned to pick his battles. He's learned to pick them very well. "But I set the terms."

"Oh?" Joshua's pitch rises in surprise. "Intriguing. Go on."

Neku lifts up a finger. "One. No penalties for losing." Joshua grumbles against his palm. "Two, if we win, you're showing up for group outings. No excuses or leaving early. Spend time with us."

There's unmatched satisfaction in the way Joshua looks like he's swallowed something far too sour. "These aren't very nice terms, Neku."

"Take them or leave them. And no funny business."

"…Fiiiiiiine. I guess you'll just owe me."

Joshua pulls himself from the table and stands, all drawn-out, fluid movements and exaggerated resignation. His coffee sits abandoned on the table, half finished.

"Owe you!?"

"Hee hee. For being so generous, of course. I'll pick you up when the polls open." Joshua touches his sole fingergun to Neku's temple before leaving the cafe and an exasperated, incredulous Neku. "Toodles."

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere!Stefan Salvatore Romantic Headcanons, please, I love everything you wrote ❤️🔥

❝ 🧛 — lady l: of course! I hope you like these headcanons, I made them in a hurry, but with love! And thank you, I'm very happy to hear that! ❤️❤️

❝tw: obsessive and overprotective behavior, mention of murder and toxic relationships.

❝🧛pairing: yandere!stefan salvatore x gender neutral!reader.

Stefan is very passionate and shows it in the best way possible. He's the traditional romantic, opening doors for you, holding your hand, and giving you gifts he thinks you might want. He puts you above everything and everyone, always prioritizing his desires above his own. You are very important to him and he will always show you how much he loves and cherishes you.

Stefan always makes a point of sending flowers unexpectedly, just to see your smile light up the room. He also loves writing old-fashioned letters, expressing his deepest feelings and making it clear how much you mean to him.

Besides, he loves surprising you with small gestures of affection, like preparing a romantic candlelit dinner or arranging special outings for the two of you. His dedication and attention to detail show how passionate he is about you. He may not necessarily eat food, but if you are human, he will be happy to prepare it for you.

But if you are a vampire, Stefan will make sure to give you his blood whenever you want. Although vampire blood isn't the most nutritious, he doesn't like the idea of ​​you feeding on other people, of touching them in such an intimate way. He prefers that you feed on animal blood, but he is aware that not all vampires are used to it, so he prefers to give his blood to you.

In addition to the fact that vampires sharing blood is something intimate, much more than any other thing, so it is another way for him to have you.

He strives to create memorable moments and share unique experiences with you, like watching the sunset together in special places or dancing under the stars on quiet nights. He loves taking you out, whether it's to Mystic Grill or somewhere fancier, it's always perfect by your side.

Stefan is an extremely attentive partner and concerned about your well-being, adapting his demonstrations of love according to your needs and preferences. His willingness to make you feel special and prioritized shows how committed he is to the relationship. And you better believe that he's very committed to you.

But he is suffocating. Stefan tries not to be possessive and not hover over you, but... He can't help it, it's his protective instincts screaming at him to never leave you alone. Not with so many threats lurking. What if you were hurt? Kidnapped or murdered? Stefan goes into a frenzy just thinking about it. No, you shouldn't be alone.

He knows it can be suffocating and stressful for you to have him hovering, but that's his nature. Even more so if you're human. Stefan will always be close to you, either by your side or on the lookout, but he will be there and at the sign of any danger you will be taken to a safe place quickly.

Stefan is jealous but he tries not to be too possessive because he knows it's not a healthy thing and if he loses control he could end up hurting you and that's something he would never forgive himself if he did. He usually scares away his potential threats to you but if they are too insistent, Stefan will gut them alive. There is no other option.

He's not a bad romantic partner, he's far from it. But if Stefan succumbs to his protectiveness, his obsession and his vampiric instincts... Nothing good will come of it. You are everything to him and he can't lose you. Stefan can't lose the one person who loves him deeply, the one person he loves more than anything. He can't lose you.

Even if you try to leave him, he will still lurk, like a ghost watching you. Stefan just wants to make sure you're okay and there's nothing wrong with that, right? Just keep your mind straight and give him all the love in the world and Stefan will make up you for it.

He would hate to force you to love him, but that's not off limits.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Harry's All Natural Sleep Aid 👅🐱 /blurb/ (SMUT)

AN: i know i have like 5 promised things that are suppose to be coming out but i couldn't get this concept off my mind and had to write it out. so i hope you don't mind and enjoy. it feels like forever since i've wrote and it feels good getting back into it.

This story contains: insomnia, female receiving oral sex in a living room

{ dadrry - husbandrry - softrry - current harry era - three kids (unnamed and unaged) }

word count- 1,124

Harry performs his all natural sleep aid to help you get sleepy after a bout of your insomnia.

Around three in the morning you woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. So instead of tossing and turning and potentially waking up your husband Harry, you decided to go down stairs and have yourself a cup of tea while watching old Friends reruns.

Not even twenty minutes of you relaxing on the couch do you hear the heavy pattering of feet coming down the stairs. Instantly you know it's Harry and not one your children because Harry has always had a heavy walk. He makes his way to the couch with a grumpy expression and crossed arms. "Where'd you go?"

Giggling at your man child who can't go thirty minutes without you attached to his hip, especially while sleeping because Harry is a massive cuddler, you reply, "Couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake you."

Now the grumpy expression turns to more of a sympathetic one. Harry knows you have trouble sleeping sometimes and he always feels bad because once he's asleep, he can stay asleep unless one of the following three things happen:

You get out of bed and he no longer has his cuddle partner, he gets a boner that just won't go down, or you or one of his three kids call out for him. Whether that's because one of y'all are sick, scared, or just need him in general.

"M'sorry, love." Harry coos softly, now beside you on the couch, leaning his head on your shoulder. "I could help you get sleepy again if you'd let me." He knows the easiest and most effective way for you to become sleepy. It works every time and it's all natural because he knows how you feel about taking sleep medicines, you dislike them.

Leaning your head into your husbands that's snuggled into your shoulder, you ask, "Oh yeah, how?" Before he responds verbally, Harry slides off the couch and onto the living room floor.

He gets situated on his knees in front of you and replies seriously, "Make you come, with m'mouth."

"Harry," you gasp at his naughty words. It's not that you're not use to him being so direct but it's usually done in the bedroom. Not in the living room where your kids could wake up and come down freely. There's no door with a lock down here. "What about the kids? They could come down here."

"What," Harry bites back, "you know damn well every time I give you an orgasm you get sleepy afterwards. It's just a fact. So pleaseee, can I eat your pussy? I'll be quick and then we can go back to cuddle in bed. And the kids are asleep. I just checked in on them before coming down here. Just gotta stay quiet s'all."

Knowing how right your husband is, you shake your head into a nod, then consenting with a verbal, "Okay, but you better hurry and get me off."

"Yes, ma'am!" Wasting no time, Harry pulls the blanket off your lap and pulls down your pajama shorts and cotton panties. He slides your bum to the edge of the couch cushion and leans forward, placing a delicate kiss directly on your little clit.

Just the soft touch of his lips to your most sensitive area has you nearly jumping out your seated position. "Oh, fuck!" you gasp out. Harry looks up with a pleased grin on his face but knowing that what he's about to do is going to be so much better than a clit kiss.

Leaning in more, Harry takes his tongue and begins to properly eat you out. He flicks his warm tongue up and down, side to side, on your clitoris, stimulating you quite nicely. His large hands are wrapped around your thighs that's laying over his bare shoulders. You have to grab one of the decorative pillows you keep on the sofa to press over your face so your heavy breaths and moans stay at bay.

Harry alternates between licking and sucking on your clit. He even pokes his tongue in your hole just to tease you. When you feel the knot in your stomach began to tighten and your legs begin to shake, you quietly warn out, "Babe, I'm gonna come. Shit, feels so fuckin' good."

He works harder in concentrating on getting you to your end. You glance down and grin through your pleasure at the sight of your husband on his knees, eyes closed shut, in the middle of the living room, eating you out in the middle of the night, with Friends still playing on the large tv in front of you. What more could you ask for.

Right as your orgasm courses through you, you reach down and grab a handful of Harry's messy curls, pushing him impossibly closer to your cunt. His face is dripping in your juices and you're sure you're leaving a wet patch on the couch beneath you. Biting your tongue, you let an internal moan go through you while breathing heavy through your nose.

When Harry can feel you pushing his mouth away due to sensitivity, he slowly backs away from your pussy. You look down again while trying to control your breathing and see just how glossy his lips and chin are. The sight alone nearly makes you want to go for a round two. But all the sudden your eyes get a wave of tiredness in them and you start to feel the effects Harry mentioned earlier.

Speaking in a gentle manner, Harry says, "Okay, time for bed. Hand me a tissue from beside you so I can clean us up. Then I'll carry you to bed, baby. Know your legs probably feel all wobbly, don't they."

Not having the energy to speak, you nod your head and grab the tissue from the tissue box you keep by the couch for him to clean you and his face up with. After wiping his mouth off, he carefully and attentively wipes up the mess between your legs. Then Harry helps pull your underwear and shorts back on you before standing up on cracking knees.

At least the living room is carpeted but still, Harry's joints aren't in the shape they were when he was twenty. Sitting on his knees for more then five minutes make them quite sore. But he choose to ignore the pain because he's just that selfless.

After standing up, Harry switches the tv off and then scoops you up bridal style in his arms to carry you back to bed. But before making it to the staircase, you lean forward with your arms around his neck, puckering your lips asking for a kiss and of course Harry leans in to meet your lips as well. The kiss is soft and gentle and shows just how sleepy you both are now. "Love you." you whisper against his mouth.

Replying back softly, Harry mutters, "I love you too."

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore1 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithharry // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @theroosterswife24 // @justlemmeholdyou // @stylesmygucci // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[mingisangel]

it’s just a game - lee felix

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

pairing: gamer!felix x fem reader

rate: 18+ 

genre: smut

warnings: explicit language/profanity, explicit sexual content, hard dom!Felix, sub!reader, angry sex, unprotected sex, grinding, dirty talk, fingering, pet names (doll, toy), overstimulation, creampie, cum eating, oral sex (mentioned; f receiving)

author’s note: this is my first time writing smut so sorryy if it’s not good also i wrote this while high but i revised it while sober so it should be fine? idk hope u enjoy <3

wc: 1.4k

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

“FUCK!”

You sigh and lean away from the mirror, just barely having avoided messing up your eyeliner due to your boyfriend’s outburst in the next room. 

You’re more than used to this, and you contemplate just closing the door to focus on getting ready to go to dinner with your friends. It’ll take him five minutes to get ready, but you have a routine to finish. You decide not to when you peer through the doorway to the bedroom and see Felix at his gaming desk growing increasingly more frustrated. 

“Calm down,” you call absently from the bathroom.

Felix’s childlike tendencies definitely have their pros and cons, and you lovingly accept both. His anger issues while gaming though? Definitely a con. You don’t mind it most of the time-- you kinda like seeing your usually calm and sweet boyfriend get so pissed off at others, as long as it’s not at you (which it never is). But you do intervene when you’re worried about him getting overly stressed. Getting him to snap out of it usually isn’t very difficult.

You leave the door open as you finish your makeup, jumping a little when the final touches are followed by the sound of Felix’s fist slamming on the table. 

“Felix, calm down,” you repeat, still checking your reflection to make sure you haven’t forgotten any part of your routine. You’re more absorbed in deliberating whether you’re going to leave your makeup sprawled out all over the sink counter or clean it up and let Felix use his own sink space for once.

“I’m fucking carrying them and they can’t even-- fuck,” his argument trails off into curses under his breath again as his teammates re-infuriate him. It’ll be more convenient to leave your makeup there, you decide. You roll your eyes as you hear him hit the desk again when you step out into the bedroom.

“It’s just a game,” you remind him. Your expression shifts instantly as his eyes snap up to meet yours, and you’re met with an intense darkness in his gaze that you had yet to encounter before. 

The realization hits you, heart racing; this is not like the other times. His eyes travel over your figure as he takes in the sight of you in the tiny slip dress you were about to wear your dress over-- your breath escapes you for a minute. 

“Fuck this.”

Within the minute, his headset is off and Felix is up from the desk, grabbing you and dragging you to the bed. Once you finally catch your breath, you speak up again. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. His actions become more aggressive for a second before he responds. 

“I’m relieving my anger. Calming down. That’s what you wanted isn’t it?” he growls into your neck, then returns to placing harsh kisses across it as he cages you in under him. 

You open your mouth to respond but decide against it, only for a choked moan to escape as he starts grinding down against you. His hands are around your wrists, slowly moving them up over your head against the mattress. 

“Since you’re so concerned, you can help make me feel better about it.”

“But we have the dinner--” you protest.

“Then hurry the fuck up,” he whispers, then instantly cuts off your ability to respond as his lips finally find yours, kissing you in a way that makes your head spin.

Holding your wrists with one hand, Felix moves the other down to push the loose fabric of your dress over your hips. You wiggle and hold yourself up to make it easier for him, then continue to hold as he tugs your panties down. 

As he starts working on his pants, he finally releases your wrists, knowing you won’t move them. Instead, he brings his free hand down between your legs, interested to find you already dripping. 

“Aw,” he teases. “You were going to dinner like this?” When you whine instead of giving a real response, already losing the ability to think, he pulls his fingers away.

“You wanted to be good and help Daddy feel better first didn’t you?”

You nod, quickly slipping into your usual dynamic.

“Y-yes daddy. Please let me help.” 

He returns his fingers, stretching you in preparation, while his other hand starts stroking his cock. 

“Good girl,” he says in his ridiculously deep voice. “You’re going to be so good for me.”

Finally, he removes his fingers and slowly sinks into your heat. His hands on your hips are sending waves of sensitivity through your body. You moan as he finally bottoms out and clench around him as best you can. The feeling makes Felix drop his head on your shoulder, cursing under his breath again. He pauses before moving, considering.

 “Take this off,” he decides, tugging your dress up. You pull it off with ease and toss it to the side.

His hands travel from your hips up to your waist to your tits, thumbs playing with your sensitive nipples. The feeling makes you shiver as he slowly starts moving. Eventually, his hands slide back down to the sides of your thighs, squeezing them and providing support when he picks up speed and force, the harsh thrusts bruising.

“There’s a good girl,” he says, “You love being Daddy’s little stress relief toy don’t you?” You can barely put words together as he continues pounding you. 

“J-just for Daddy to use,” you breathe, “Whenever you want.”

“My perfect doll. I’m gonna use you so well,” he groans, his hands on your hips again, moving you to meet his thrusts. You hold on tightly to his shoulders as pleasure courses through you with each of his movements. 

It’s not long before your back arches and you’re seeing white, your orgasm coursing through you in waves. 

Felix pulls out for a second and you barely have time to wonder why before he’s flipping you over and re-entering you from behind, picking up a pace even faster than before. The overstimulation is overwhelming but you want to be good for him. You arch your back and let him adjust you until the angle makes you scream.

 Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm building, and from the way his hips suddenly seem reinvigorated, you can tell that he’s close too.

Your senses are hazy, and you barely notice when one of his hands travels from your hip down your front till one touch to your clit makes you twitch and clench around him. He rubs a few circles and you’re cumming hard on his cock, this time even more intense than the last. 

Seconds later, you feel him do the same as he fills you up. You love that Felix always likes to time it perfectly like this. He continues to fuck you through both your orgasms, until he finally slows down and pulls out. The mixture of fluids follows, spilling onto your thighs.

Felix can’t help but scoop some up with his thumb and bring it to your lips. You should be exhausted, but Felix has never spontaneously taken his anger out on you like this before and now you want to see if there’s more where that came from. You open your mouth obediently, looking innocently into his eyes as you swirl your tongue around his thumb, swallowing every drop. He lets out a shaky breath and removes his thumb. 

“Don’t look at me like that, we don’t have time for more. We have to go to dinner,” he urges. You sigh and lay back against the mattress, letting him clean up the mess.

“I don’t wanna go anymore,” you whine, knowing that’s not an option. Finally sitting up once he’s done, you catch a glimpse of yourself in a mirror across the room and are grateful to find that your makeup is mostly intact with just a few smudges here and there. Your slip and panties are a mess on the floor, and you decide to mess with Felix through dinner and forgo replacing them when you put your dress on.

“So did all that help you calm down?” you ask teasingly. He blushes, a little embarrassed for losing his cool now that he’s snapped out of it, but still cocky.

“Of course. My pretty doll always makes me feel better,” he says, grabbing your face and placing a little kiss on your nose. You roll your eyes at his belittling behavior, knowing full well you love it. 

Felix’s delicate balance between his preference for being a hard dom and his usual fluffy personality never fails to amaze you. He’ll keep the act up all night, yet you know that in the morning you’ll find flowers on your table and his head between your legs as a little reward for being good for him.

[drkmgs]

Wednesday x fem!reader?

reader acts cold and mean to Wednesday as a prank,But it gone wrong

Thank you for requesting! I'm a gender-neutral writer, so I wrote it that way and sorry it took a little while to post this.

Prank went wrong

Wednesday Addams × Reader

You have been completely taken by the trending app TikTok, trying the challenges yourself. You uploaded some videos on that app and surprisingly people liked it. They tagged you on varieties of challenges. One particular was the ignoring and being cold to your significant other.

You weren't just doing this for the challenge but also out of curiosity. How would your girlfriend Wednesday Addams react when she's suddenly not your muse anymore? Would she be angry? sad? Will she show emotions? or would she just kill you with a machete? You weren't sure of the answer but you had a strong feeling that it would be the last one.

To take this 'prank' to a whole other level you stretched the challenge for a week, normally it was just for a day, but knowing Wednesday she wouldn't notice, or would she? Anyway, you had a hidden camera fastened in a pin on your Nevermore jacket and cameras all over your dorm because that's typically where Wednesday would work on her novel. [Yes, she moved her Typewriter to your dorm. Why? Because she can and she wanted to spend time with you even though she's writing. Isn't she sweet?]

It was Monday, you officially started the prank. You purposely didn't pick Wednesday up at her dorm, which you normally do. You didn't expect her to notice but the moment she saw you in class, she shoot you a deathly glare. When the class ended, she thought you would greet her, but to her dismay, you just passed by her without throwing her a glance. It made her eyebrow furrow. She certainly will confront you about this, she thought.

You took it further when you didn't speak to her while having lunch. Everyone at the table was having conversations besides you two, Wednesday sat opposite of you, so she could intensely stare at you, while you were more fascinated by your food.

She's getting irritated by your lack of affection and she wanted you to know that by kicking you under the table. To her surprise, there was no response let alone any reaction from you, but deep down you wanted to scream her kick wasn't the lightest thing. You're sure it's going to bruise. You're still going through the prank, even though it was obvious you were going to be dead at the end of the day.

You ignored her and went ahead to your next lesson with the other students. She saw you were fine with others, but when it comes to her today, your behavior was very uncommon. She's starting to think if she had done something to upset you or if you changed your mind about your relationship. Nobody would have thought that a Wednesday Addams would be insecure, but she is because she knows she lacks in the area of love and affection.

During your last lesson, you notice Wednesday being gloomier than usual, and her eyes were observant. She usually does that if something is bothering her mind, that she's unsure of. She's also not participating in the lessons like normally.

That's when you realized, you've gone too far with the prank and it wouldn't last for a week. When the lesson ended, you tried to catch up to Wednesday but she was too fast and was gone as soon as she turned the corner. You decided to head back to your dorm, because she might be there and you were right.

As soon as you enter your room, you saw her sitting on your bed. Staring at nowhere, but she felt your presence. You closed the door.

Y/N: Wednesday, listen I-

Wednesday: Did you change your mind about us?

That question made you hurry in front of her and knelt. You took her hands and crease them with your thumbs.

Y/N: Why would I suddenly change my mind about us? You were my light in my dark place, even though you appear darker than light. I usually hate rain and thunder but when you came you made me understand the beauty of it. You made me embrace my darkness. I wouldn't trade you for anything else. Even if it's a prank.

You tore your little pin and smashed it. You aren't going to publicize your girlfriend's vulnerability. You're satisfied enough that she's concerned about you leaving her because that means she does love you and she cares for you. You pull her into a hug, she gladly took it and hugged you back.

Y/N: I'm sorry.

You whispered into her ears, she snuggled into your neck, her hug tightening as if you'll let her go. You continue whispering your sorry's in her ear and you swore to never play any pranks again.

[venerawrites]

I want to ask for angst if you do it...I need headcanons/scenarios about Itachi when he comes back from a long mission after a month and finds his s/o in the corner of the kitchen hugging her knees and resting her head on them,crying silently

(I love you so much♥️)

author's note: I wrote this as a short scenario, I really hope you enjoy! I've been in pretty angsty mood the past few days, so writing this request really helped me expressing some of my frustration. Anyway, thank you so much for requesting and for your kind words! <3

The sun was slowly dipping beyond the horizon, casting a golden glow over the crowns of the trees surrounding the forest path. Normally quite calm and even slow when it comes to moving, Itachi was not walking with a hurried step, unable to stop himself from sighing every time he had to stop so his teammate can catch up.

"You seem to be in a rush, Itachi", Kisame grinned, as he deliberately dragged his feet. The shark-like shinobi was usually not one to mess with his partner, but how could he control himself when he was witnessing the Uchiha's famous collected demeanour crumbling right in front of him?

Of course, he knew the reason for the hurry - YOU. While you never met officially, as your black-haired man tried to keep you as far as possible from anything relating to Akatsuki and his work, Kisame had waited for him to say his goodbyes almost every time they left for a mission. He knew your name, your age, where you lived, and that for some strange reason, despite being nothing more than an ordinary civilian, you had the famous Uchiha wrapped around your finger.

"I am", grumbled Itachi, his onyx eyes fixated on the road before them. Due to the nature of his job, being away was a regular occurrence for him and Kisame. Not only they were extraordinary ninjas, but they also were one of the few pairings in the organisation that worked well together, without constantly bickering or fighting each other.

One-month missions, however, were something that did not happen often, even to them. But when the stake was capturing all of the Jinchūriki, none of them could say no.

It was ironic really, how much Itachi was used to your presence. After the massacre, he promised himself he would never allow himself to grow closer to anyone else. The life of a shinobi was a lonely path, filled with pain and suffering, and he couldn't allow himself to get attached to someone else again.

But life often throws surprises at everyone and things rarely go "according to plan". When he first met you, it was purely by chance - you happened to live on the outskirts of the village where he was sent to and he met you one sunny day at the local market. You were struggling with carrying all of your groceries and as he watched you put your bags down every three steps to rest, he knew he had to give you a hand. As a sign of gratitude, you invited him for a cup of tea and apiece of homemade carrot cake.

Since that moment he couldn't stay away.

Itachi tried. He really tried to keep his distance and stop himself from falling from you. But you were stubborn, in love, and couldn't take a 'no' for an answer - all qualities, which captured his heart before he could even realise it. Even after the end of his mission, he continued visiting you during his free time, often staying for a few days before going on the road again. And while you never put an official label on your relationship, it was clear you were together - if not by the way he seemed to be caring and protective over you, then by the way he never missed pressing his lips against yours first thing when he saw you.

Once the men reached the so-familiar crossroad next to your house, Itachi stopped in place, before glancing at his partner.

"You go and report to Pain without me", he said blankly while getting two scrolls out of his pocket and passing them to Kisame, "I would be in the base in few days time."

The blue-skinned shinobi chuckled, grabbing the scrolls, before leaning toward the Uchiha with a wide smile on his lips.

"A few days, huh? You know you never introduced-"

"Go", interrupted Itachi, his tone now a few octaves lower. At first glance, his expression remained neutral, but Kisame could see the way his eyes held the slightest glint of irritation. With a loud laugh, he shook his head and started walking in the opposite direction of where he knew the Uchiha was heading.

"Send her my greetings", he shouted over his shoulder, his voice echoing around the forest, as his figure became smaller and smaller. Itachi watched his retreating form and only when he disappeared in the shadows, he allowed himself to relax and let out a sigh. With a quick step, he turned around and started making his way to your house.

Usually getting to the small wooden cottage, which you called 'home', took around ten minutes from the place where he separated from his partner. His eagerness to see you and hold you in his arms shortened that time almost half.

As he approached the building, his pace slowed, as his eyes scanned his surroundings. The wooden door was slightly ajar and he took a deep breath, trying to contain the growing mix of irritation and worry that was brewing inside his head. He told you numerous times to stop leaving your door open, especially when he was not here, but you never listened, insisting that it was for him.

"So you know when I am home or you have to use your spare key", you always joked, dismissing his concerns.

Pushing the door with a quiet creak, he stepped into the corridor, looking around for any signs of you. He could feel your presence nearby and he stilled for a few seconds, his eyes narrowing once he caught a glimpse of your raincoat carelessly thrown on top of the coat hanger, numerous dried mud drops covering the sleeves. You were not usually one to leave your stuff dirty like that - if anything, sometimes you went overboard with all the cleaning and scrubbing.

Something was wrong...

Moving deeper into the cottage, he heard barely audible sniffling coming from behind the door of the kitchen and without thinking twice, he grabbed the doorknob, slowly twisting it to the side and opening it as silently as he could. There, in the corner next to the fridge, you had your head buried between your legs, a series of small sobs and whimpers leaving your lips.

Itachi froze in place, his brain immediately switching to panic mode. Has something happened? Did someone threaten you? Hurt you? You seemed to not sensed his presence yet, as you remained unmoving, lost in your own bubble of pain and sorrow. The sight of you looking so weak and distressed made his whole body tense and he watched you for a few seconds, trying to figure out what was wrong.

Finally, with measured caution, he made a few steps toward you, closing the distance between you, before kneeling in front of your shrunken form. Gently, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm as a way to make you aware of his presence without scaring you.

His plan didn't work as the moment you felt something touching you, you jumped in your place, lifting your red and swollen gaze only to find your lover sitting in front of you and looking at you with concern. Sniffling, you wiped your cheeks and nose with the ends of your sleeves, trying to calm your breath.

"Itachi", his name came out as a choked whisper, "I'm sorry, I was just about to cook somet-"

The rest of the sentence got stuck in your throat as the Uchiha suddenly wrapped his hands around you, pulling you to his chest. Itachi was not good when it came to dealing with emotions, especially the ones of the people around him, but he wanted to show you that he was here for you. No matter if you decided to share with him what was the cause of your distress or if you preferred to keep it to yourself, he wanted to offer you all the support and love that he could.

Feeling the tears forming in your eyes once again, you buried your face in his chest, inhaling his musky scent. The sound of his heartbeat, slow and steady, seemed to calm your own and slowly your sniffles started to quiet down. Your own arms circled his body, gripping the back of his shirt, almost as if you were scared he would disappear if you let go.

"I missed you", you muttered against his clothed chest while nuzzling your nose against it. The man pressed his lips against the top of your head, tightening his embrace, before laying his chin next to your ponytail.

"I missed you more", the words slipped from his mouth as a sweet whisper, a quiet promise everything will be alright. His hands kept rubbing small, soothing circles on your back till he felt your body fully relaxing against him.

"I am sorry", you said again, pulling away from him and looking down at your lap, "I didn't mean for you to find me like this."

Itachi's brows furrowed and he looked at you for a few seconds in disbelief, before shaking his head and pressing two of his fingers against your forehead, taping it lightly.

"Don't apologize", the corners of his lips twitched upwards, "I am here for you. Whenever you're ready to talk or just need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here. Whatever it is... we are going to face it together. Okay?"

The question of what did you do to deserve a man like Itachi often swirled around your mind. He was caring, loving, sometimes funny, gentle and without any effort on his part, he made you fall absolutely crazy in love with him.

"Okay."

Smiling at your response, he pressed one more kiss on top of your head, before grabbing your arms and pulling you up from the floor. One of his hands remained on your waist, while the other one opened the fridge, curiously looking at the stocked food inside. You followed his gaze before a light blush covered your cheeks and you turned around, reaching for the apron neatly folded on top of the table.

"Are you hungry? I can quickly prepare some lunch straight away!", before you can put the piece of clothing, however, he grabbed it from your hands and tossed it on the kitchen counter, before turning back to you and nuzzling his nose against yours.

"How about you let me cook us some ramen now and then we can do the dinner together, hm?", he asked, pecking you on the lips before reaching for some eggs and sauce from the fridge. You opened your mouth to protest, but quickly closed it after he moved to the stove, organising his ingredients while humming a soft melody under his breath.

Your mouth curved into a small smile as you watched him busying himself in the kitchen, and you couldn't help but ask the question once again:

What the hell did you do in this life or the previous one to deserve him?

Whatever it was, you were thankful. And you were never letting him go.

cc artwork: Richard Lay

[accio-victuuri]

Reasons why we think the 26th bday message was from bunny laoshi. 🗒️

I know that a lot of us don’t need “reasons” to even cpn that xz made this letter, but it’s still fun to look at the clues that make the conclusion much stronger. a lot of us just knew once we read it, who the author is. as with all other candies, if you believe it, you do. if you don’t — there is no amount of evidence that will change your mind.

i’m so happy that the bday letter is back, last year was understandable (considering what was going on) so to have it this year made everyone emotional. as usual, it’s a beautiful letter. i am thankful that yibo is loved. that aside from us fans, he has someone close to him, who adores him that much to write something like that for him.

this post is only for the letter, not the bday photo/art. that will be a separate discussion.

A HISTORY,

As with most candies, context is key. We don’t usually react this much without it having some story behind it. There is almost always a pattern. The “birthday” message first popped up for Bobo’s 23rd bday. Then 24 and 26. You could say anyone can make a birthday message — but this is different. It’s way too personal and the way it’s written, to us who pay attention, is very xiao zhan. There were already CPNs for the past 2 years, so we were actually just waiting for the 26th bday letter — and boy did it not disappoint!

• They all start with saying hello to the *age* Yibo. It’s like this person wants to be the first one to greet WYB in his new year of life.

• The way it’s constructed is very similar. It starts with a recap for the year, what WYB has gained from the past and wishes for the future. I have to say that the 2020 letter was the start and then it evolved into what it is today because of the time they spent together. XZ now has more and more things to say.

• The message of growing up slowly is also there. I think XZ really wants this for him, that even if WYB had to “grow up” faster than other people his age, even if he has so many responsibilities — that he still gets to enjoy his youth. 🫶🏼

Even if you let someone else read this letter, and you tell them, “it’s from their s/o”, they will believe you. To those who look at it and think it’s an employee, i don’t even know what to say. You don’t even have to believe that it’s XZ, but it is most definitely WYB’s significant other. Look at UNIQ_OFFICIAL weibo account birthday caption, that’s what employees do.

Now onto the “reasons”. I have listed a couple and I know there might be more out there but here are the ones that made us 😭😭😭😭:

1. My absolute favorite part of the letter:

In the past year, you've gradually learned to relax while working hard and understood how to face the world with a gentler attitude. You've been willing to watch the stars while hurrying forward. You've been willing to enjoy a pouring rain happening one afternoon. You've been willing to quietly see the horizons at the other side of the sea. You've been willing to stop for a beautiful sunset.

A person who knows you will only be the one to write this. The level of understanding XZ has for WYB is just. I can’t. He really loves him. The things he decided to use : stars, pouring rain, sea and sunset is so THEM. He might as well add the moon to have the whole cpf symbol set completed. 😂😂😂

And for comparison, XZ wrote these words in his Oasis for the DC wrap-up:

There are two pictures that I really like, one is the beach outside of the Xiangshan hotel balcony, another is the scenery from the highway in the middle of the Hengdian Xianju forest where we frequently ran. These two different places and different views are both places that comforted me when I was lost and helpless. When I was down, I would sit on the balcony, and the sea breeze, the beach and the moonlight would give me the answer; when I was tired, I could rest on the path in between the forest scenes, and upon opening my eyes I would see the raindrops and the fog that would also give me the answer: in each and every moment, I chose to not complain or be negative, I put my all towards each choice and decision I make;

It’s how freakin descriptive he is. He has a way with words that make you “feel” what he is saying or even see it.

2. This part too, about stopping. Slowing down. It’s the same thing XZ said before. Plus in a couple of XZ’s videos, you will see shots of him admiring the sunset.

Time never pauses, but you seem to know the secret of making the world stop occasionally. You use your calmness and poise to welcome and get in touch with the world. Yibo, sunsets are beautiful, just like every dusk that you missed when you focused on forging forward.

AND THE “Yibo,” OMG. I can hear XZ’s voice in my head saying it. It’s too intimate. I know it’s his name but the way it’s written here — Are we even supposed to read this? It feels too personal 😭😭😭

But my answer is always, WYB wants to show off. He wants us to feel single. I’m in a long term relationship and even I felt single 😂😂😂😂

3. “The small number has changed again” referring to his age. There might be no hidden meaning, but some cpfs interpret this as the person who wrote it is older than him. Because he considers yibo’s age as “smaller” than his. Hello to their 6-year age gap. 👋🏼

4. There is 🎂 emoji in this letter compared to previous years. We think it’s because WYB is at home and they are celebrating together, no need to send a virtual cake. There is also some talk of XZ not being photographed today (8.4) on set. I won’t go to that part of Weibo but the fact that some people are nervous that he is suddenly MIA so close to Yibo’s bday is 👀

5. WYB went online for a bit, we thought he was gonna pull the same stunt he did last year and remove the automatic weibo bday post. He didn’t. What did he look at? The love letter? 🤔

6. Someone asked where was the quote “"stay cool, grow up slowly" on Baidu and the most popular answer is it’s from a book 君生我已老. We know XZ is fond of reading. I found a synopsis, and well, interpret it as you will…..

Excuse the google translate but you get the gist. It’s synopsis is also kind of similar to his drama SUNSHINE WITH ME. The part of age gap. Meeting and falling in love then having to separate, only to meet again. So if I’m to speculate that XZ got it here and liked it, maybe that’s why he chose to film SWM even if he has lots of scripts sent his way.

7. Similar with GG, who does not look at challenges in a negative way. How he regards it as a part of life and something he has to overcome.

Just regard all the adversities as the numerous mountains you have to climb and the endless waves you have to ride.

8. I don’t have to explain it that much. They both have a thing for “living with no regrets.” It’s all over their interviews.

As a young man full of mettle, you have no regrets.

I will stop right here. Again, to a lot of us, Xiao Zhan might as well sign his name at the end of the post and we would be like — Okay, we knew that. LOL.

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY KING YIBO! ♥️👑

[loveforeren]

hi! i love your writing! (can’t really express how much on screen lol)

Can you write Miguel losing our wedding ring in the ocean when he was in the water and now is all disappointed at himself for losing it? He just feels ashamed of himself the whole day (idk how the reader should react, i didn’t think that far ahead of it 😭)

Ohhhhh that sounds fun I've been sick so I haven't been writing so here you gooo 💕 (I wrote this at like 3am forgive the half-assed writing)

You and Miguel decide to go to the beach. You thought it would be a good idea to out of his hot ass office for once. After some convincing, he was ready to go. How could he say no to you?

"Miguel, come on!" You yelled from the stairs.

Miguel was the type to get extra cautious when he goes to the beach. He was grabbing sunscreen, and all types of other, in your opinion, unnecessary stuff.

You watch as Miguel walked down the stairs with 3 bags full of towels, and other 'necessities'. You sigh, and open the door for him to take it to the car.

"Do we need all of that, Love?" You asked with a exasperated expression.

"Yes, what if something happens? We'll have the necessary tools to fix it." He said in a business like tone.

You let out a laugh, and after he packs up the stuff you both drive down to the beach. Luckily you guys were only 30 minutes from the beach, so the ride there was filled with you talking about what you wanted to do. Miguel intently listened as always. He wasn't much of a talker but he absolutely loved listening to you.

When Miguel parked, you practically squealed with excitement getting out of the car as Miguel smiled gently as he grabbed his multiple bags of...necessary tools. He followed you down to where you wanted to sit and you laid out your towel as he set up his spot as well.

The day was fun. You got Miguel out of his shell, by dragging him in the water. You both splashed around as your giggle, and his chuckles filled the air. It was kinda like healing both of your inner child. You both tired yourselves out after a little bit and went to lie down in the sun. Miguel has always had this cute habit of fidgeting with his ring.

Miguel's right hand went down to his left and he didn't feel that cold metal he was so very used to. His eyes shoot down and he starts to panic a bit. He quickly checks his pockets to see if he put them in there. No ring at all. The panic finally sets in, and he quickly gets up.

"Miguel, where are you going?" You asked.

You've never seen Miguel get up so quickly in your life. Whether that was for a mission or anything. That was the only time you've seen Miguel get up so fast. You watched as he hurried over to the water, and was looking..for something? You follow him over and hear him muttering cuss words.

"What's wrong?" You asked putting a hand on Miguel's back.

Miguel looks up at you with a frown, and sighs.

"My ring..I can't find it.." he mumbled.

"Oh? Is that all..? Baby, you didn't mean to..." you try to reassure him.

You could tell he was more than disappointed. The rest of the day he was way more quiet than he usually is. His face stuck to the same frown. He continued to look for it the whole day. It was night time and finally time to leave.

"Miggy, we have to go c'mon" you said softly pulling him to the car after pack everything up.

"But..my ring" He said quietly.

"Miggy, the ring isn't that important. I'll love you regardless of if you have your ring or not. You know I've lost mines around the house a couple of times. I can get you a new one, Love." You said turning to him and kissing his cheek.

Miguel smiles softly and nods.

He was still upset about the ring a little bit but you telling him that helped him. He hugged you tightly and you grinned. He was going to be absolutely fine.

[zoeykallus]

Hello hun, if it's possible do you think you could write a headcanon for the clones where they react to getting rescued by their s/o after getting captured by the enemy?

The clones can be of your choosing, but please do add Kix. I love him so much, he has my whole heart 🥺💕

I wrote about the other way around before. But this is an interesting take. Let me see 😊

Clones of my choosing? Interesting...

Kix/Rex/Fives/Tech x Reader - Who's The Hero?

Warnings: Slightly Angsty/Mostly Fluffy/A Bit Of Humor (I guess)

______________

What Happened:

Your clone partner has been captured by the enemy. But you won't leave him behind. You sneak behind enemy lines, you have a plan. You find your beloved in a cell. Here is his reaction…

______________

Kix

You have no idea if the plan will work, but Kix is definitely worth the risk.

You say softly, yet peppery, "Tadaaa! Your hero has arrived!"

He looks at you as if you were a ghost when you appear at the cell door.

"What the... How... Why are you... You should-"

Raising your brows, you ask dryly, "Do you need more time to finish that sentence?"

Kix huffs, "Mesh'la, you shouldn't be here, it's too dangerous."

You shrug and operate the keypad on the cell to open it.

You cock an eyebrow and say, "Oh, I know. Tons of droids out there. Wasn't so easy to find a sneak path. But who else is going to come rescue you? Did you really think I was going to leave you here to rot?"

He smirks and steps out of the cell.

"Well, to be honest, I didn't think anyone would come at all. Clones are expendable."

"Not to me," you say softly and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

For a brief moment he looks deep into your eyes and finally says, "Who am I kidding, I had a feeling you would come. I know you can be counted on".

With an affectionate, soft smile, you say, "I will always come for you".

"Usually I'm the one saving people, you know, as a medic and a soldier"

You smirk at him and say softly, "You still are my hero, Kix, always will be"

Kix expression softens a little.

"Okay, Mesh'la, I take your word for it"

You grab his hand and say, "Now come on, we have to hurry before they discover our escape vehicle."

Rex

"Hey you, you look lonely in your cell".

Rex jumps up from his seat.

"How did you get in here! You shouldn't be here!"

"Yeah, I'm glad to see you too" you say dryly and open the cell.

"Cyare, that was stupid of you."

You frown critically and look at him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I didn't mean-"

Your gaze silences him. You give him hand signals to show him to follow you silently. You creep back the way you came in, to the shuttle hidden in a nearby patch of woods.

"Cyare…"

You just booted up the engine and have to wait a few more seconds for it to start before you can take off. You turn to him and see how meekly he looks at you.

"Thank you for coming here for me."

You smile.

"You would have done the same, Rex"

He nods and says, "Of course. Still, I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I was just so startled to see you here."

You sit down in the pilot's seat and he sits next to you in the copilot's seat.

"Because you care about me, I know you always do."

As the shuttle lifts off, and you hurry into space and on a hyperspace jump home, you feel a tension fall from you and breathe a deep sigh of relief. You have Rex safely with you again. As if to confirm your thought, one of his hands grasps yours, gently but firmly. He gently squeezes your fingers and smiles at you as you look at him.

"I missed you," you say softly.

"I missed you even more"

Fives

"It's about time you showed up," he says impatiently.

You look at him, puzzled.

"You're not at all surprised to see me here?"

Fives smirks, "I know you, sweet Mesh'la, you know it's dangerous, you know basically no one wants you to put yourself in danger, especially not for me, but you're more stubborn than a defiant Bantha."

You snort.

"You could at least pretend to be happy. Well, so much for the surprise"

He chuckles.

"My dear, would you rather I hadn't expected you and assumed you'd abandon me?"

You think for a second as you open the cell door and finally shake your head with a pout.

He comes toward you smiling and says, "There you go. And don't get me wrong, I'm overjoyed that you're here, so stop pouting, love."

Placing a kiss on your forehead, he finally says, "Let's get out of here before we both end up in that cell."

Tech

He sits there like a heap of misery, they have taken away his belt with the datapad and his tools, his weapons too, of course. As Tech sits there, he looks pretty lost.

"Hey Genius," you say quietly, trying to get his attention.

Tech looks up in surprise.

"Cyare!"

He jumps up and comes to the cell door. Tech looks relieved and worried at the same time.

"Are you sure no one saw you?" he asks tensely.

"I am," you say confidently.

He sighs with relief and says, "It's good to see you, my dear."

"Likewise," you return with a smile.

As you open the cell door, Tech explains in his matter-of-fact way, "I have weighed and calculated some options, but have come to the conclusion that my situation is hopeless without outside help. In a way, I had already mentally prepared myself to die here."

You frown and look at him reprovingly.

"I don't want to hear anything like that!"

Puzzled, he looks at you.

"The other day you told me to always tell you what's on my mind whenever I feel like I need to get something off my chest."

"I- yes, that's true of course, Tech, sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I just don't want you to give up on yourself."

"I didn't, I knew you'd come."

You say, "Just now, you said you expected to die in here."

He raises a finger and says, "In fact, in case you got caught and killed yourself, which was highly likely."

"You do have an incredible amount of faith in me" you say sarcastically with a small humorless smirk.

Again he raises his finger, "This has nothing to do with trust or faith, I was merely calculating probabilities"

Shaking your head you look up at him, "My dearest genius, sometimes you might want to try listening to your gut more."

As again his finger goes up in the air, and he opens his mouth, you encircle the finger with your hand so that it's in your fist. He looks at you puzzled and falls silent.

You say, "Enough. Let's go get you out of here, sweetheart"

"Good idea, my love"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

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@starwarsnerd111

[maltesejjong]

What’s up hoes, I’m back at it again lmao. Here’s a little lixie Drabble I wrote last year🫶🏽

Tbh this one kinda hurt. Not in a “why did I write this way” but in a “how dare I portray sunshine this way” and honestly I’m not proud of it. But I was going through a shit period of time and was really hurt and needed to make that hurt known. People always assume I’m some happy go lucky person who never gets mad or wronged and I needed my pain portrayed through some sunshine’s. Please don’t hate me for this

On the Other Side

Warnings: MINORS DNI. Pwop, cream pie, unprotected sex (oh god don’t do that y’all), fingering, piv, cheating (also don’t do THAT guys stay faithful please please please), i think I got everything? Lmk if I missed smt

Summary: Chan is absolutely smitten with his princess. Little does he know that his business trips leave opportunities for his heart to be crushed… by his best friend.

tags: @linoalwaysknows ty for being so enthusiastic about my post “What’s Rwally Going On” and, of course, credit where credit is due, thank you so so much to @lixiesfreckless who started off posting one shots on instagram (insta is @/lixiesfreckles_) and was a massive inspiration both for me as a writer and for this specific piece, which was inspired by “Deep”, which is on her insta hall go check it out!!!

Wc: 1792

Requests are open as always ^^

꒰ঌ(⃔ ⌯' '⌯)⃕໒꒱

"Relax, baby. Just let go."

You clench your fists, desperately fighting the sounds struggling to escape. "Fe- Felix," you stutter out. "I- I'm...ah, Lixie!"

"Shhh. Calm down, angel. It's alright."

But it's not. And you both know it.

This can't be happening. Not again. It's becoming more and more frequent. You tried. You really did.

But..

"Felix," you try again. "I can't-"

"Just try, baby. Please? Just a minute longer."

He never asks for much, always making sure you're taken care of in every possible way first. And it isn't just the sex.

If you're up late, somehow he'll know, like intuition, and he'll be calling and texting relentlessly, telling you to go to sleep. When you're feeling sick, he arrives on your doorstep with drunken noodles and fried tofu, just happening by.

When you're lonely, well, he's only one call away.

And, of course, you're usually all alone these days...

"Fuck!" You exclaim, jarred out of your thoughts as he abruptly twists his fingers, hitting your sweet spot in a way that's almost cruel.

But it isn't. It never is.

You force your mind to wander, to recall song lyrics and recipes, anything to distract yourself from the feeling of Felix's fingers sliding out of you, then back in. Again and again.

"We shouldn't... we shouldn't be doing this," Felix pants, looking at you through ashy blond hair.

"But we are," you reply through gritted teeth as his digits stretch you out more than usual.

How did we get here? You think to yourself, your legs shaking so hard, you're positive that his fingers alone will leave you unable to walk. His tiny hands with his tiny fingers that work magic on you.

You bite your lip, trying to hold on to whatever shred of dignity you can salvage, knowing your neighbors are still home. Every last inch of you begs to release, to be as loud as you can, to become as undone and fucked up as you possibly can.

But no.

You can't let that happen.

Besides, you know from experience how long Felix can last. You tell yourself that there's no rush.

Yet the thrill of being caught makes everything so much more intense. So much more rushed. So much more fun.

Almost so much more worth it.

"Y/n," he hisses desperately, "shhh. You need to..."

You can't help it. Whatever noise you're apparently making, you have no control over. When you re together, this boy does things to you that you can't even begin to comprehend.

He doesn't deserve this, you tell yourself. And, I guess, neither do I. It shouldn't be like this.

You bite back a whimper as he pushes his fingers deeper. "Felix," you pant, "hurry up, I can't..."

Nevermind the familiar fear lurking over your shoulder.

You know that he doesn't want to rush any more than you do, a fact that he confirms by slowly pulling his fingers out and languidly cleaning them off, the look in his eyes as his gaze locks into yours driving you insane.

He raises his eyebrows, questioning. You press your lips together as tight as you can to keep from begging and keep your response to a firm nod.

He takes his time, kissing his way down your neck, all the way to the inside of your thigh, then back up again. Your body reacts on its own, your back arching as his lips travel up your stomach.

You're so consumed by the feeling that you don't even notice him line up and slide into you. Something that you've found goes smoother if you're distracted.

The second you realize that he's in, your mind races about, trying to grab onto something to keep your mind busy. Kittens. Math. Random Korean and Spanish vocabulary. Anything to keep from yelling as loud as you can as his hips continuously bump gently into yours.

It's a stolen moment. Yet another to add to the ever-growing list. Another thing that should, in theory, weigh on your conscience.

But it doesn't. How can it, when you're digging your fingers into Felix's platinum locks, feeling him groan against your lips. How can you think of the consequences when he's making that sound, bordering on a whimper, your name escaping his clenched teeth?

Exactly. You can't.

Your fingers leave his hair, trailing down his biceps, making him shiver. Your nails press into his skin as hard as you can, desperate for some purchase.

"Y/n. You need to relax, baby." Felix knows that you're going to that place in your mind where you start overthinking, panicking, and, as you've been prone to in the past, hyperventilate. "Hey." Не stops and cups your chin in his hand. "Breathe, okay? I won't-"

"No!" You blurt. "I'm- I'm fine, I just..."

"Y/n."

"Felix," you say firmly. "If you don't keep going, I swear to God, I will make you. I'll be fine, okay?"

He swallows and nods.

"Just.... Slower for now, yeah?"

He obliges, and you take comfort in the fact that, eventually, you aren't the only one making so much noise.

You shouldn't be.... The twisted mess of it all, the backwards guilt that claws your stomach, how messy this situation is.... It's all chased away by Felix whimpering your name, the way his voice pitches, contrasting starkly with his deep Australian tone. Ironic, but running circles in your mind around the whole thing is what helps you calm down and stay quiet. Well, mostly quiet, anyways....

"Oh, God," you moan quietly. Your voice pushes him further, and he increases his pace, his hips hitting yours harder. "Lixie.... Oh, fuck."

"You're doing great, angel. Just a little...." His voice is strained, and you chance a glance at his face.

Hair falling in his eyes, which are dark and seem slightly unfocused, but you know better. He's sweaty, panting slightly, his lips dark pink, flushed from feverishly pressing them to your skin.

Why does this time feel so much longer than every other time? There's a sense of foreboding in the air, and you don't like it.

You feel him shudder a little and force yourself to focus.

"Y/n, you need to relax, kitten." The pet name, the way his gravelly Australian accent drags over the word, makes you whine and clench painfully, causing him to gasp. "Y/n," he gets out, clearly fighting to hold on, "I- I won't last unless you relax."

"I'm... trying..."

It's no use, though. You're too uptight, and everything that usually calms you just turns you on even more until Felix can't take your reactions anymore. In no time at all, you've both ridden out three separate highs, and made way more of a mess than the short span of time warranted.

"Felix." You both know you should be wrapping up, but you can tell that he still isn't done quite yet.

"I... I need a little bit more time- uh! Oh god. Y/n - I can't..."

"What can I do?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, lips pressed together tightly.

Stimulation, you think, that's what will help. Just thinking about what's going on down there makes your stomach squirm pleasurably, sending you clenching tighter and tighter

Felix groans.

"That's it, Lix," you say in a sultry tone, knowing that the only physical thing you can do for him is happening automatically. Vocalization always gets him. "Come on baby," you say breathlessly, "give it all to me."

"I'm doing-"

"Shhh." You cut him off with a kiss. "Just let it all go," you coax, dragging a nail down his chest. "Don't hold back."

A shudder runs through his body, and you watch with satisfaction as he moans loudly, his head tipping back.

Almost there.

You lean forward and press your lips to his throat, feeling it vibrate as another strangled moan escapes him. "Come on, Lix. And here I was, thinking I'm the naughty one." What is wrong with me? You think. Getting turned on by calling myself naughty? Your walls somehow manage to clench even tighter in response.

"You are," he gasps. "Y/n- I'm gonna- nngh!"

He practically bends backwards, his body shaking hard before he falls heavily forward, clinging to you like you're his lifeline, and you know that he's done.

"Better?" You ask quietly.

"Perfect," he whispers, pulling you into his chest.

You let the warmth of his body comfort you, despite the pain gently pulsing in your body. His breath in your skin distracts you from the worry spiraling throughout your mind.

You drift off at some point, listening to his rhythmic breathing, savoring how impossibly right it all feels.

You wake up an hour later to your phone ringing.

You answer without bothering to check the caller ID.

"Hey, pretty girl."

You freeze.

"Did I wake you up?"

"Maybe," you say, trying to suppress your rising panic. You feel thankful that the voice on the other end of the phone is on the other side of the world.

"Oh. Sorry about that." His accent makes the "o" in sorry sound like it does in sore.

"Oh. Um... you're fine," you lie.

"Everything alrigh', baby?"

You fumble with the blankets, trying to escape from the overheated confines and wiggle out of Felix's embrace, careful not to wake him.

"Yeah. I'm just not feeling the greatest." True enough. You feel sick with anxiety and guilt. But not for the right reasons.

"Oh. I'm sorry, angel." You practically cringe, the word feeling foreign unless it's coming from Felix's mouth. "I'll let you get back to sleep then, love."

"Oh. Okay, then."

If he thinks there's something off in your voice, he doesn't say anything. In fact, he probably just attributes it to you apparently being tired. You check the caller ID, praying that this is some sort of fever dream. Of course not. Your screen says

💙🐺Channie🐺💙

You close your eyes as he says "I love you, y/n."

A sour taste pervades your mouth and crushes you with guilt, the betrayal weighing on you, but not the betrayal to him, as your finger hovers over the red "end call" button. You hesitate slightly before telling him "Love you, too."

Staring at your back screen, you think, But I don't.

Not really.

[honakito]

Plz akito kiss hcs ..

⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏are you wearing lipstick on purpose ? ?

LIP MARKS - prod. honakito

posted as : request

chars : s. akito , y. kanade

type: x g/n ! reader

scenario : kisses with them ( headcanons )

notes : that is so cute im gonna give u a smooch. now this MIGHT be similar to others posts but everything in this context is unintentional,,, so no i am not a copycat ,, tho, enjoy!!

notes 2 : i wrote kanade too even tho she wasnt in the request because i also want to write other characters ,,,, because as much as i want this to be an akito blog i genuienly CANT </3 id get bored and theres no SPICE in that what the fuck,,, also i flunged my math comp today (even tho i have the highest grades and like general grade in class with a 9,94) i got a like 55 this is not my first time the 55 has cursed me i cant escape ,, so now ive been ghosting everyone that has asked me for my score im genuinely so embarrassed ( this is also NOT the first time ive did this )

date : 19 / 01 / 24 - 20 / 01 / 24

s. akito 

akitos lips are soft. like genuinely so soft.

hes probably had them chapped for a little while , due to practicing in the sun a lot. before you started helping him on it. i guess it payed off , so , so well.

so now , after helping him treat them, his kisses got somehow better.

its like theyre more tender and passionate now. maybe its his way of getting back at you for giving him tips and buying the necessary things he needed? pretty much. yeah definitely. 

small fact : he still kept the things you bought him for his lips , neat and clean on his desk. ‘ im keeping those for when they get dry again, not for kissing you better. they heavily influence my singing, y’know? ‘ - thats his excuse anyway.

usually, they arent that long. in hurries, he usually just leaves a small peck. a kiss on the forehead, even. tho he only does this when no ones watching , not too fond of pda because of three certain someones. the most he can do in public is a quick kiss on the hand, on one of the rings you wear, if you do actually use jewelry.

but in private , its like a switch flipping. hes initiating it a lot more, each kiss lasting two times more than usual with one break slipped in there somewhere. mostly on the lips, but doesnt limit there. hed kiss you all over your face occasionally , if hes feeling mischievous. or in comfort. depends on the context.

and about hand placement — definitely on your waist. he likes it alot. in an innocent way, ofcourse. in general, he just likes it. wrapping his arms around it from behind you , hugging you and resting his face on your shoulder. akito himself doesnt know why.

so basically — his kissers are tender , passionate , and depend on his mood. hes a pretty simple guy.

y. kanade

if akitos lips were soft, then kanades are heavenly, if taken care of properly.

her lack of self care is there, ofcourse, even worse if it wasnt for honami. but with a little bit of your help, i feel like shed eventually get better — and that includes skincare and just beauty in general.

she has dry lips, due to working a lot during both mornings and nights , so she doesnt really have time to take care of them — or she oftenly licks them to the extent of it. it doesnt take a lot of chapstick to get them nice and soft, tho.

theyd DEFINITELY taste like soy cup noodles, argue with the entirety of usa. or collectively agree. i dont care i know im right.

her kisses arent special, but they hold a lot of sentimental expression to both you and kanade. for her , leaving you quick pecks anywhere on your face is a way to express what shes feeling. is she proud? is she happy? did something happen? does she need attention? you’ll only know through her quick kiss on your cheek.

she cant last through really long kisses tho — poor girl runs out of breath so fast. thats why you both settled in quick pecks.

and hand placement during those? your cheeks or the back of your head , running her hands through your hair. doesnt matter if youre taller (which is likely) , she’d initiate it (rarely long) by gently cupping your cheeks and bringing your face closer to her.

summed up — shes a decent kisser. just dont suffocate her during your time. 

does anybody wanna be on my taglist…. ive been considering doing one ,,

dividers arent mine ; credits to the rightful owners on TUMBLR

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

spring snow, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: In memory of you, the one I should have loved when it counted. But I didn’t. I’m sorry. To the backdrop of the black sky and white flakes falling down, you and Jeon Jungkook learn that you are far more connected than you could ever believe. I miss you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; slow burn - struggles with letting go of the past, ponderings of adulthood, and feels; smut (fem reader, heavy making out, f and m-receiving oral, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - JK walks reader home every day after work; switches between Jungkook’s POV and yours

this is a very different format from my usual. i let my hands do whatever they wanted to do. about people and relationships... and porn with feelings XD

--

I miss you.

It’s crazy that I think that now. Back then, I couldn’t wait to get out.

I miss you.

Sometimes I stay awake on purpose. I don’t want to fall asleep and see you. If I see you in my dreams, I miss you more. I remember what each season with you was like. Warm nights lit up by fireworks and bites of crushed-up watermelon from strong but unstable hands. Cold afternoons with warm breath against my palms, watching the leaves tumble down. Endless nights surrounded by white flakes tumbling from the sky.

I fill my days with the way it was, and I fill my nights with broken dreams.

I wish I could say I wrote that but, actually, I read that from my hyung’s notebook. He’s good with words. I’m not. Or maybe it’s from a song. He likes writing down lyrics that stick with him. Anyway, you you would have liked him. He might have inspired you back then. You always liked intelligence since you felt like you lacked it.

Now I know that was precious too, those moments of innocence.

I miss you.

I should have held onto you more closely back then.

I should have but I didn’t know.

I’m sorry I didn’t. That’s what I wanted to say.

-

I miss you.

I see you clearly when I close my eyes. It’s spring. The trees have flowered and the petals are being blown by the wind. Your hair flies up from the breeze. That expression you make, mild surprise and wonder as the pink petals surround you in a halo and then disappear into the sky and the horizon.

I like your eyes.

They’re so pretty.

It’s not realistic, but I like to pretend it is.

But you’re right. Spring is usually a lot of rain. Blue moods and grey days. You were always right about those things. I bet you’re still right about them now. You have to be, huh? Always realistic. Did you ever think you should pretend a little more? Just a little bit. Maybe, if you did… back then.

I miss you.

I try to forget about you.

I try to lose myself so I can forget about you. I don’t think it’s working though.

Fuck, I miss you.

-

I thought about you today.

Do you remember that there was a time you thought kissing was so important? You acted like it was super gross, but the truth was that you couldn’t imagine kissing just anybody. It had to be someone really important.

That’s weird, you know.

That’s so weird. It’s only a kiss.

Just a kiss.

Would you tell me not to kiss her?

Would you tell me she’s not important enough? That I’m wasting something really important? I thought about it. I thought about you, so I didn’t do it. I almost got close. But I couldn’t do it. I thought about your face looking back at me. And I couldn’t do it.

I still want to, though.

The night was really cold. I wanted to hold her hand, at least. But she just smiled at me and tucked her hands in her pockets. She told me to hurry home so I didn’t get sick.

Maybe I should have kissed her.

-

Fuck.

I’m not holding on. I’m not. Look. You’re only in my head. That’s it. I have a lot of things in this head of mine, not just you. You’re not the only one here. I remember a lot of things from back then, not just you. There’s lots of people in here. Not just you.

Blurry faces, sure.

But still there.

Not just you.

I don’t want to think about you. I hate it. You remind me of bad things. Of cold days. Of blue and grey, of dark nights and missed mornings. Of empty feelings and grasping at nothing. I want to forget. I want to forget those obsidian nights with pearl-white flakes falling from the sky, forget those frozen palms and dead leaves under the feet of passerby, forget those humid, sticky summer nights most of all, those nights were I looked up and saw no stars.

I want to forget the rain and the flower petals that I made up, yeah, those ones that surround your curious face and pretty eyes.

Please.

I want to forget.

Let me forget.

-

I think everyone feels this. I’ve thought about it. This feeling can’t be exclusive to me, right? For instance, people talk about how they miss their high school friends. They wonder what they’re up to. If they would still be friends now. Would they still like the same things? Or would they move on to different interests? Adults are like that. They talk about back then, school days, carefree vacations, and that hot girl they had a crush on, wondering if they’re still hot now.

I don’t really think I’m an adult, but I do miss you and I do think about back then.

School days.

I was so ready to become an adult, but now that I’m here, and I’m pretty sure adult is a fake word. I don’t think you would have believed me if I told you back then. You just wanted to be an adult and do all the things adults can do. Stay up as long as you want. Not have homework anymore. Adults are free to do whatever they want, right?

Who knows.

I know you wanted to find that real kiss more than anything.

I saw her again.

I think I’m just going to kiss her the next time I get the chance. I don’t really care if she’s important enough or not.

Maybe that’s what adult means.

-

This is a mistake.

I know you would tell me it is. I don’t care though. I don’t care anymore what you think.

I don’t.

I’m not going to let myself be dragged down by the ghost of you for no reason. What’s the point of the past? To learn from past mistakes, of course. There’s no point in dwelling on those dark nights lying awake with music pumping through earbuds to drown out all the sounds. Look at you. You’re stuck back then and you can’t escape.

Because you’re in my memory and you’re not here.

Don’t drag me down with you.

I’m sorry.

But I can’t think about you anymore, you know?

I really can’t.

I can keep trying to romanticize the past but it’s killing me slowly and I can’t romanticize you any longer because it’s all I can think about and I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating from the thoughts of you and your smile that I can’t seem to remember. I hate that I can’t remember. I should have made you smile. Is it my fault that I can’t remember or my fault that I could never make you smile and that’s why I can’t remember?

Fuck.

I miss you.

I am sorry.

It means nothing now but I don’t know what else to say.

And I know I’m making a mistake. This that I’m chasing now, this is a distraction. You know all about those. I know you do, because you had a lot of hobbies and they were all distractions. I remember those at least. You had your nose in books. You drew a lot. You collected Pokémon cards and hid them in tins in the back of your closet. Yeah. I remember that too.

I know it’s mean of me, but he’s a distraction.

He’s a distraction from you and those memories.

I’m going to kiss him.

And I’m going to forget about you.

-

I feel guilty.

I thought about you when my lips touched hers.

It was right before she was about to go up to her apartment building. Weirdly cold tonight once again. I could see my breath in the air, right between us. She said it would be a god night for ramyeon. I thought that was funny. I said that she should come over and eat ramyeon.

She just smiled at me and tucked her hands in her pockets.

I thought, ah, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wasn’t that close the other night. Maybe even though I wanted to kiss her, she didn’t want to kiss me because I wasn’t important enough. Maybe she was sure even though I wasn’t. Is that what being an adult means? I wondered.

But then she stepped a little closer.

I could see my breath in the air, white and foggy, right between us.

She said to me, “I’m going to kiss you.”

I thought about you and then her lips pressed to mine.

They were soft.

She sighed a little and I could taste her breath, sweet and warm.

I feel guilty, because I wasn’t sure, but it still felt nice. I still wanted it. Maybe it was a mistake.

Maybe, but it was a beautiful one.

It’s okay to make mistakes though, isn’t it? I think you would say so. You made a lot of them. Well, that was what being young was about. You used to beat yourself up over them. I wish I could tell you not to do that, but you were really stubborn and you probably wouldn’t listen. You used to think, “When I’m an adult, I won’t make mistakes.”

Maybe that means I’m not an adult yet, because this is probably a mistake.

But.

I want to kiss her again.

-

I did it.

I kissed him.

He liked it. I’m pretty sure. When I backed up, he had a dropped jaw and big wide eyes. It was kind of funny. Almost like a kid. But that’s okay. It’s no fun being an adult. You understood that, even back then. Even in blue moods and grey days, you didn’t think that being an adult would make it better.

So, when he looked at me with those big round eyes and parted lips, I thought, maybe, maybe you wouldn’t say it’s a mistake.

Maybe.

I thought about taking him up on his offer. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what that not-so-subtle “come over and eat ramyeon” meant. Heh. I thought about it.

But then I thought about you, even though I didn’t mean to.

Maybe you wouldn’t say it’s a mistake, but.

You would shake your head at me, for sure. You would say, don’t.

So, I just kissed him and left him there.

And now I’m here, wondering if I should have just ignored the thought of you. I’m mad at you. I hate you sometimes. But I miss you. I wish I could erase you, because then it wouldn’t hurt as much.

And anyway.

You can’t erase your past.

I wonder if he was happy that I kissed him. Maybe. I feel like he might like that kind of thing. He always reminds me it’s not safe to walk alone. I always tell him it’s a short walk, but he reminds me that he lives only a few blocks away and it’s not a big deal. I let him walk me home, because sometimes I can forget about you when I’m focused on someone else. We don’t always talk, but he’s there. I think he gets off work a little earlier than me, but he always waits.

He waits for me, like the future.

He probably only wants to get laid.

Well, that’s okay too. If he wants me to be his distraction, then maybe he can be mine, even if only for a short while. Maybe he can help me forget about you and I don’t have to miss you anymore.

He had a nice kiss. Soft, with a little gasp, like he was trying to breathe me in.

I want to kiss him again and forget about you.

-

Do you remember the first time someone held your hand?

She held my hand.

It was very quick. I was fixing the earbud in my ear and then I felt her hand close around my wrist, slipping down because she was walking around me, tugging me into the convenience store. She was saying something about how me mentioning ramyeon the other night reminded her she was almost out, but I didn’t catch all of it.

I was too busy realizing how cold my hand was and how warm hers was.

It’s still cold these days, especially when the sun sets. The day is okay, but I still have to bring my coat to work because I wait for her to get out so I can walk her home.

Anyway, she let go once I started following.

It feels weird telling you this. Maybe you don’t want to hear it. But I was reminded of you.

The radio station was playing an old song. You know, the one that was super popular in middle school and they had to ban it during exams. Haha, yeah, that one. I recognized it right away. She recognized it too and started singing along. Then she noticed that I noticed and I think she got embarrassed.

But.

You know how in the movies, there’s that moment?

I think today was like that.

Because I started singing too and she started backing up really fast and dashing around the aisles and I was following her around and I started dancing as she ran and she was laughing and, I don’t know, it reminded me of you and back then. It was dumb and didn’t really make sense, but that’s how it was back then, wasn’t it? Moments of pure joy, unblemished. We got yelled at and we were told to get out. She didn’t even get to buy any ramyeon. Still, we rushed out and she was laughing and I was laughing too.

It reminded me of you and back then.

But this was different.

She smiled up at me and I kissed her, just like that. I wouldn’t have done that, back then. But I did it without thinking and it felt like the thing to do, because she kissed me the other night and I…

I wanted her to know that I wanted to kiss her too.

It was really nice.

Better than any kiss you had, I know.

If I close my eyes right now, I can still see the way her eyes opened slowly. The way golden hour lit up her face, the way the cold turned her cheeks pink, the way her lips parted.

The way she looked at me.

It reminds me of back then, of you and your innocence.

I miss you.

-

It’s too fucking cold. Isn’t spring supposed to be coming soon? Why is it so fucking cold?

Hah.

I think I’ve done it now.

I didn’t really mean to. It just kind of happened. Him and I, we were in front of the apartment building and I think he meant to lean forward and give me a good night kiss and, I don’t know why, I just… I just grabbed him by the shirt. Yanked him close.

You used to do things like that too.

I don’t want to be like you, but.

I looked up at him and he seemed surprised, but his arms wrapped around me. I could see his breath when we were that close. He was wearing a big fluffy white coat. It made him look like a cloud. Or a bunny.

I asked him if he would come up with me.

I don’t know why I thought he would say no. He was already holding me. I guess you always prepared me for failure and rejection. That was your specialty, always finding for rock bottom.

That moment seemed like forever, but it was a warm forever of soft breath and that fluffy coat.

He said that he would accompany me upstairs.

I don’t know why I thought he would disappear if I didn’t hold his hand.

It might have been a mistake, but. It didn’t really feel like one. Maybe that’s how beautiful mistakes are. I didn’t even turn on the light. We were in the dark when the front door closed. I pushed him against the wall and slipped my hands under that fluffy coat to that orange shirt. I was surprised. He has a manly body under that cute face.

In the dark, I leaned forward to kiss him but my lips were against his neck and I kissed his throat instead.

He moaned.

I thought about you, but this was different.

I could smell him, I could feel him, and I thought about you, and I thought I would be upset or maybe even afraid, but he was holding me and my lips were pressed against his skin, and I forgot to be upset or afraid.

He smelled nice.

Tasted nice too.

I said I can’t think about you, but I might have been wrong. Because I thought about you and I kept going, kept kissing him and holding him in the dark. Felt his lip ring against my cheek and his gasp against my lips when my fingers touched his waist and gripped his shirt tight. I asked him if he felt good, if it felt nice to be this close, told him I wanted to see if he still felt that way when we were alone and no one was looking.

He said he still felt the same even though no one was looking.

It’s so cold outside after the sun goes down, but, in that moment in the dark, it was warm in his fluffy coat and his arms around me. It didn’t even bother me that it didn’t go further than that. I told him he should go home before it got too cold. Kissed him before I let him go, reminded him that he had to walk me home tomorrow too.

He seemed happy.

I like his smile. There’s a small mole under his lips. It gives him an innocent look.

I’m sorry I said I can’t think about you.

I miss you.

-

Wow.

The way she tasted.

I think I’ll remember that taste forever.

-

I fucked up.

How did I fuck up so bad?

Ugh, I’m so stupid.

Let’s call a spade a spade. I fucked him in attempt to forget about you. I fucked him because I miss you, because I hate you, because I am nothing without you and he is collateral in this fucked-up mess, which makes me a shit person.

I fucked him and it felt good.

Better than good. Was fantastic. Yeah, you heard me. And I don’t care either, I don’t care that I liked it, I don’t care that he took me out to dinner and I paid for his drinks knowing full well what I was doing, knowing that I went to work in a sexy dress on purpose, knowing that he would say yes at my front door the second I asked him if he wanted to come in. I see the way he looks at me.

I can pretend I didn’t but you know me. I’m no liar.

I knew what I was doing.

I know what I’m doing and it’s awful.

Fuck.

His hands on my face. That little smile. He way he pauses a little bit before kissing me. I can taste it, his excitement when I reciprocate. I come on strong and he likes it, either because he likes that kind of attention or because he likes being wanted. Doesn’t matter. I’m doing this to forget about your effect on me. I touch his face and trail my fingers down his chest to forget how you have a chokehold on my mind. I unbutton his floaty black and white dress shirt to forget how you know everything about me and see right through me. I thrust my tongue into his mouth, make him moan, trace his muscles with my fingertips and feel his heartbeat at the tip of my touch to forget all about how you keep me dead when I’m supposed to be alive.

He tastes good.

Like innocence and a desire to be loved.

I hate how I’m like this, but I can’t stop. I was only going to touch him a little, maybe just frustrate him and back off. Take it slow. Promises for next time and all that shit. Ugh.

God, I’m so full of it.

His hands drifted down to the hem of my dress and what did I do? Shove my right leg between his and hook my left around his hips and grind on his jean-covered thigh. Right. That’s taking it slow. Yup. Of course, he took it as a sign to yank up my dress. Wasn’t like my hands pushing his dress shirt off his shoulders giving him any other choice. I shouldn’t have taken it so far. He would have stopped if I said so. He would have listened if I put up the red light.

Should have put up the damn red light.

Instead, I took off his clothes and he took off mine and I found myself halfway crawling up my own apartment wall with my legs on his shoulders and his mouth on my pussy with those big brown eyes staring up at me.

Jeez.

What am I doing?

I even had the gall to send him back home after fucking him on my own bed. Couldn’t even think about waking up next to him in the morning. That’s well and truly fucked, isn’t it?

The way he looked at me.

Don’t look at me like that.

Don’t look at this black hole with stars in your eyes, because all I’ll do is suck them into this darkness and kill them, leaving nothing left of you, and that’s unfair for someone like you.

It is.

And yet you walked me home today, asking if I was busy this weekend.

And, like an idiot, I said I wasn’t.

-

I wanted to write this down because I wanted to remember.

She said something to me as we sat on her bed, right before the first time. She had turned her bedside lamp on. One of those silicone touch ones in the shape of a round cat. The color it was set on – red. I remember because when she sat in my lap and stared into my eyes, the red shadows between us were so… sensual. Alluring. Erotic. I don’t know. There’s probably a sexier way to say it.

But anyway, she whispered against my lips and looked into my eyes.

“The stars in the sky are already dead.”

I remember being confused.

“The stars in the sky. The light you see from the stars is already dead by the time you see them.”

I think I remember reading that in a book. Or maybe in class when I was in high school or something. I was never good at astronomy. I should have asked you to pay more attention for me. Then she said…

“But the stars are in your eyes.”

I remember looking into her eyes and seeing mine reflected in them.

When she said that and when I saw myself in her eyes, I realized I felt something that I’ve never felt before. Her warm breath drifted over my lips, a weird feeling prickling all over my skin, her fingers caressing my cheeks, and, I knew, this was a moment.

From her to me, a moment.

“The light I see in you is right here, right now, and it is alive.”

No one has ever said anything like that to me.

Never.

I wanted to remember it, so I wrote it down here.

I wish I said something just as beautiful back to her, but I couldn’t think of anything then. I could have asked her to explore the stars. I could have said that the stars weren’t there until I looked at her. I could have said she’s the whole galaxy and I’m only a small cluster of stars in her vast galaxy.

But I didn’t.

I hope she could tell how happy I was just looking into her beautiful eyes.

-

I need to tell him the truth.

He’s sleeping in my bed and I need to tell him the truth but instead I’m writing to you because I’m too fucked up to say anything when I need to say something, because I’m sad and lonely and dead inside knowing that I failed you and I wasn’t better and I couldn’t be strong enough to make sure you were okay, because I am the worst, the worst, the worst.

It’s supposed to be spring.

It’s still so cold.

-

There’s something about her.

I don’t think you would like her, mostly because she knows who she is and because you don’t. You’re insecure and you look up to others to secure you and tell you where to go and what to do. It’s because you were afraid to live life, lest you do it wrong or imperfectly.

But.

There is no such thing as wrong or imperfect when it comes to life, is there?

I can feel it.

The way she keeps me as close as she can, but I look up and there’s still a shrouded sky with snow falling even though it’s supposed to be spring. We’re close and yet the sky remains dark, the clouds stay gray, and I can see my breath. Life is supposed to be growing. Instead, there’s soft white flakes floating down and it’s cold.

And yet.

It’s beautiful.

She’s beautiful to me.

I wish I knew a pretty way to tell her that, like how she said my eyes were full of stars.

---

The moment in life where everything changed was when you read those words.

You wished you could say that you didn't read them. That you were polite, kind, and respected his privacy. That you were fast asleep beside him in this bed of yours, a place where you had nightmares or, worse, hopeful dreams that shattered every morning as you were forced to face reality. Dreams where you felt fully and completely alive, only to wake up and realize it was all a lie. 

But, no.

You were awake. 

Sometimes being asleep was the true torture. 

You turned the page, going backwards in time. 

I wanted to write this down because I wanted to remember.

The little book had fallen out of his jacket. A plain black notebook with a leather-texture hardcover and scribbles in it. Pocket-sized. There was an elastic strap that was meant to go around the book and hold it shut, but it hadn't been put back on properly, causing the pages to fall open and land on where the ribbon bookmark had been placed.

You read the entry. 

He had nice handwriting. Clean. Neat. Thoughtful. Your original guess was that this notebook was for his work. Notes into his creativity, perhaps? He did video editing for a living, he said. Maybe it was a planner to organize his days. Or ideas for projects he wanted to pursue on his own. A brainstorming space.

You turned the page. 

Beside you, his body moved, restless. You wondered if he would wake up, but instead he threw an arm around your waist and continued sleeping, his breathing long and steady. 

You read the entry. 

Wow.

It was very short. 

This little book was none of the things you thought it was. It was something else, something you could scarcely even believe at first, something that made your heart stop, and that wasn't because those words were about you. 

It was because the entries were letters.

All of them. 

All letters, addressed to the same person, the same individual, over and over again. Some long, some short. Some vague nonsense, some intimately revealing. All for one person.

Not you.

No. 

You couldn't believe it.

It was so surreal that you read the addressee twice. Three times. Not because you thought it was strange or crazy. 

No.

Because you understood. 

To young Jeon Jungkook. 

Mechanically, you reached over to the side of your bed, the pocket between the mattress and bedframe, and pulled out a small, slightly squashed, black leather soft-cover notebook. Thinner and longer than his, but similar enough. 

You opened to the ribbon bookmark. 

To young me, I miss you.

You understood these letters all too well.

-

He was just a big kid, that Jeon Jungkook. Tattooed because people told him not to. Pierced because people told him not to. Not in the spotlight because people told him he totally had the face for it. No, no, Jeon Jungkook didn’t like all these people telling him he should do this or that. He wanted to do only what he wanted to do. Stubborn and defiant, sticking his spoon into his ice cream covered in too many toppings, maybe more garnishes than chocolate ice cream, having the cold sweet even on the cold night, all because he wanted to.

“What is it that you want to do?” you had asked him.

He shoved he spoon into his mouth and shrugged.

But you could see it in those big brown eyes. The uncertainty, the fear, the maybe despite my desire to be myself I’m just like everyone else, the maybe I will never know, the and if I don’t, am I stuck like the rest of them? The questions that came, and perhaps that was youth, that was becoming an adult, that was the beautiful blunders that became the formation of life.

You sipped your hot chocolate, the lingering taste of peppermint trapped in the liquid even though Christmas was long over. You had asked for it and the employee had given you a weird look.

“Upset stomach,” you lied. A flimsy explanation to make the weird look go away.

“Can I have a sip of your hot chocolate?” Jungkook now asked.

You handed it to him and he drank a bit, his face fluttering with comfort.

“You’re gonna ruin your digestion going from cold to hot like that,” you commented.

“Yeah, my mom always tells me that, but I’m still eating, right?”

He grinned, all mischief, silver ring at the edge, and underneath pink lips and white teeth he was blessed with a dot of dark perfect imperfection.

You held your hand out.

Jungkook was about to give your to-go cup back, but then he darted forward, placing a light kiss on the opening. Then he handed it back to you, still smiling.

You raised your eyebrows and continued sipping at the hot liquid.

He continued eating his ice cream, scooting closer to you on the public bench. You didn’t move away. It was cold at night, even now. Supposed to be spring already, a time for rain and sun and blooming flowers, but it was cold and biting, reminding everyone winter hadn’t yet gone away.

“When do you think a spring day will come?” Jungkook murmured between enormous bites of ice cream.

“I don’t know, but I know the weather forecasters will probably be wrong,” you answered dryly.

-

She said to his lips, “I missed you.”

It was so soft and so quiet that he almost didn’t hear it, but he felt the words being formed, her lips brushing against his and then the fervent press of forget what I said to his lips, her hands framing his jaw and up into his hair, long delicate fingers twisting into the strands. The ghost of sweetness between their tongues, a shared taste, and those words flowed into the thoughts that became one with his own, as if he himself said them, I missed you, because he did.

He did.

Jeon Jungkook couldn’t explain it, but he wished he could.

He reached up himself and mirrored her touch, across the jaw and up to the temple, his fingers in her hair, strands curling in his hold and he wished this moment was as permanent as the tattoos inked to skin, maybe not her if that wasn’t what she wanted, but at least this feeling. This feeling. Something he knew he couldn’t get again. Maybe that was because this was him now and this was her now, lips to lips and the fire between them, but he wished, he wished to keep this feeling in his memory, wished to make it last forever.

He wished, he wished he could tell young Jungkook, cherish it, all those days back then, don’t go chasing for what becoming an adult means, because it means being lost and sad and lonely.

But he couldn’t.

She tilted her head, traced his lips with her tongue, and Jungkook shuddered.

He wished, he wished he could say, please stay with me, please stay a little longer with me, I am not perfect but I swear there is something here, in your taste and in my heart, and, if I am your mistake, please let me stay your mistake a little longer, but they were such ugly words, such horrible words, and he couldn’t say it, no, because… what if he was right?

What if he truly was her mistake?

She took his jacket off, pulled up his turtleneck, and he pushed down her furry coat, slowly undoing the laces at the collar of her dress, exposing skin to his searching fingertips.

What started as recklessness continued to be recklessness. Perhaps it was his fault, believing in nothing, or it was really there, the something, kisses again, his jacket falling to the floor, a thunk and Jungkook vaguely registered the little black book falling out of his jacket again, but he paid it no mind, remembering she had found it but left it on top of his folded clothes, making breakfast as he slowly woke up, smelling eggs and fragrant oil.

He had glanced at his journal, the elastic over the front cover, resting on top of his folded clothes.

Jungkook thought he would feel panic, fear, embarrassment.

But then he realized he didn’t care.

He never had the perfect words, but the ones written in there were his honest ones. Ones of that moment, and if she read them, then she read his honest words and not some dressed-up version in some vain attempt to make himself better than he was.

He wondered if she did, but she simply greeted him like normal, chuckling at his messy hair and running her fingers through it, telling him to hurry and eat so he could get back to his place and change, otherwise his co-workers would think he’s dirty for wearing the same clothes over again.

So Jungkook let the notebook fall, knowing the elastic wasn’t all the way on, forgetting all about it to tangle himself in that touch, that skin, that scent. Exploring tongue following dancing fingers, and he could feel it sear across his skin, inexplicable but undeniable, like the feeling one got from looking up to a black sky and falling white snow, on the cusp of sad but it was just so beautiful, so beautiful, so he couldn’t bring himself to be sad.

She was a scriptwriter, she said.

Her specialty was dialogue.

But Jungkook found she spoke to him the loudest like this, in the form of trailing kisses and soft breath over his chest, kissing the mole on the right side of his ribcage, this silent dialogue so real and so raw that even even though he had no idea what they meant, he believed in them. Every spoken word had intent behind it, intentional or not, but this, this was pure on a different level, pure as her tongue drawing down the center of his abdomen, creating a wet line, half-lidded, sultry eyes peering up at him.

This was the present, without the weight of the past.

And the past weighed heavily on those that held onto it, I miss you, young him, at first oblivious everyone’s expectations, I miss you, young him, foolishly believing everyone had the best intentions for him, I miss you, young him, running and weighed down with expectations. Thinking that he was chained but that when he was adult he would have freedom, except he got older and he still felt chained, so did that mean he was still young or did that mean that he was now an adult and this was everyone’s fate?

Jungkook had these thoughts when he was alone, but not here.

Not here, not within the confines of hands fanning over his thighs, tongue to taut skin, in her eyes glittering in the low light. Like snow from a black sky, but he was comforted and then elated, radiating bliss mounting his senses, skillful tongue sliding down his length and his hands gripping the sheets, memorizing the lush quality of the fabric, memorizing the way his nerves seemed to shimmer and brim with so much pleasure that it was nearly unbearable. Every detail precious – the wet, the pressure, the depth, controlled tightness. Saliva dripping down his balls and then quickly lapped up, sending a spark up his spine, a strangely playful sensation he came to crave and it happened again, jarring and gratifying him, like hot chocolate between bites of ice cream, sweet on sweet.

Something out of nothing.

Black sky full of falling white flakes.

He should be afraid, he should be hesitating, he should be chained by the past, but he was free, free here in the moment of erotic high and in those eyes in the low light. Glittering amusement in those irises, something out of nothing, or something out of…

She crawled back up his body, her dress on the floor, and kissed him, salty, but to him it was sweet.

Something out of something?

Maybe.

-

How long will you punish yourself for something you didn’t do?

Sometimes you thought about writing down that question, but it was too honest and your pen would pause every time, poised to make the strokes, and you didn’t. It was too honest. You kept thinking, I’m not ready, but that was an excuse just like any other, as if you would ever be ready, as if you would ever know, all this time chasing for that one you should have loved when it counted, but you didn’t. You didn’t, and now you were sorry.

Sorry.

So pointless to be sorry, the maybe if I, the it could have been better if I, the if only I just, who cares, who cares, who cares. This kind of thinking was just as much a broken home as it was back then, these thoughts like closed shutters to keep out the light, forever in winter because you never dared to look out and find summer. A prison of the past you built to hold in the fragile young you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, tried to embellish the past and make it as pretty as it was tragic, all to try and erase the fact that you were holding onto nothing.

In this decrepit broken home of your thoughts, apologizing to the past. Writing letters to the one that always ran from, to the one you hated for making you into what you were now, to the one that never tried to appreciate what little good there was because it was always easier to believe everything was bad. Easier to think that, when you were an adult, you could make it all go away.

But it just wasn’t true.

I’m sorry, young me.

The sky was still black and the snow still fell and the spring day never came.

I don’t really think I’m an adult, but I do miss you and I do think about back then.

He was just a big kid, that Jeon Jungkook.

You closed your eyes and inhaled, the soft, clean scent mixed with sex, slipping into the sensation of being filled, easy after his fingers and the lingering buzz of his kiss. A heavy weight, and you should have felt crushed, suffocated, caged, but you were so used to the broken home of your thoughts that this felt like freedom, like a hopeful dream that couldn’t be broken by reality.

Because you opened your eyes and there was Jeon Jungkook.

His teeth were sunk into his lower lip, and he was struggling not to be overwhelmed. The mole underneath bobbing uneasily, silver lip ring quivering, and you clenched around his hard cock, making him flinch and frown at you, his eyes connecting with yours.

His eyes glittering in the low light. Stars. And the ones in the sky were dead, but these were lit by the fire within, lit by a past determined to feel the present even more, and your lips parted to take a breath.

There was none to be taken.

Jungkook breathed out your name.

If the sky was black and too covered with gray clouds of falling snowflakes, well, then maybe the stars could be right beside you.

You whispered his name in the dark.

It was like he was catching snowflakes on his cheeks, his expression melting with your reply, his face flushing pink, and you gripped your thighs, lifting them up. He got the hint, moving his arms and then your legs were on his shoulders. Slow. You smacked your hips up to deepen his thrust, earning another frown and furrowed brow, greeting it with your smile.

This should make you feel fake. This should make you feel wrong, like you were using him to distract from something bigger, but somehow it didn’t, and that was so strange, because you were pretty sure that was what this was, right, but then his words came back to you, I miss you, written in those tight scribbles, I hope she could tell how happy I was just looking into her beautiful eyes, and you looked into his eyes now, shortened breath, shivering from pleasure, racing heartbeat leaping to your throat and Jungkook noticed your gaze, shaking his head like a dog to brush the black hair out of his eyes so he could look back, his shaking exhale matching yours, warmth drifting between you and him.

And it was true.

You were afraid to leave the broken home of your thoughts, because what if it was worse out there?

He searched your eyes.

You let him, not knowing what he was searching for.

He lowered slightly, changing the angle. Deeper, his dark brown irises catching the light, glittering, alive stars, these not light-years away, but right there, right there, and you reached out to touch, your fingertips ghosting his cheek and jaw, his low moan cutting through the haze of the high, your hand reaching back and clutching his hair, tugging lightly. His eyes closing, lashes fluttering, harder, faster, your hips rising, tighter, more resistance, increased depth and intensity, Jungkook, his name leaving your lips again and he shuddered, spellbound by your voice, his tongue flicking against the top half of his lower lip, struggling to open his eyes again but the weight of lust kept them half-lidded, so close, fluttering breath, almost, holding him back with another tug of his hair, letting your tongue trace the inside of your open lips.

There.

It ate you up so fast, so fast, a whirlwind of compounded sensation and sparks shooting down to your core and vicious throbs sinking into your hips, gasping as you came around his jerking cock, ecstasy unbound, his own moan in an arc, his head tipped back to the ceiling, your hand still in his hair, him burying deep into constricting wet warmth and succumbing to it, his shivers traveling from his chest to your thighs, and you felt your eyes closing, lost in the reality and being okay with it.

I miss you.

For once, these words were not directed at your past self.

You drew a breath, your hand in his hot, sweaty hair, and you missed Jungkook already even though he wasn’t gone.

-

“I read it.”

You admitted it plainly, clearly.

His little black book between you two, you wrapped in a blanket and him wrapped in another, staring down at it.

Jungkook nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

It sounded defeatist.

“You think I’m a weirdo, huh?” he mumbled softly, pulling the blanket around him tighter.

You reached to the side of the bed, in between the mattress and the bedframe and smacked down your own black, leather-bound notebook.

“That makes two of us.”

His eyes widened, and he stared down at it as you pushed it to him, your hand on top of it, determined, because it was time. You spent enough time being a coward. No more, firmly pinning your notebook in front of Jeon Jungkook, I fill my days with the way it was, and I fill my nights with broken dreams, and if this was it, if you were the broken dream, then he deserved to know how broken, he derserved your honesty, and you thought you would be afraid, and yet…

Jungkook lifted his head and stared at you.

You weren’t.

He shook his head.

“Not today.”

You blinked at him.

He looked back down at your notebook and the blanket opened, his larger, tattooed hand reaching out, placing his hand over yours. A weight but somehow not heavy.

“I will read it if you want me to read it,” he said, and he lifted his head, breathing out slowly, holding your hand tighter, and you could see he was waiting for you to run, waiting for you melt and disappear into nothing. As if he was trying to grasp a snowflake. “But… I don’t want you to think you have to show me just because you read mine.” He smiled, rueful and sheepish. “Actually, I wanted you to read my journal. I hoped you would, so I kept leaving it open and letting it fall out. I was too nervous to… I kept trying to think of the right words to…” He shook his head rapidly, lost even now. “But they sounded insincere. I like you so much and if only I was enough…”

You laughed dryly and Jungkook looked up, confused.

“That’s why you should read my musings,” you countered. “Because we are one and the same, Jeon Jungkook.”

You lifted your hand and took your notebook, placing it into his lap, closing his hand over it.

“Both held down by an idea in the past, because that’s all it is, you know,” you shivered, keeping his hand over the soft leather cover. “I thought, if only, if only, if only, if I changed this or that, if I tried a little harder, if I hadn’t been so focused on becoming an adult, if I loved myself a little more, then maybe young me wouldn’t have been so miserable, maybe young me wouldn’t have let so many people walk over her, maybe the me of now wouldn’t be stuck and haunted by what it was, so I could…”

You suddenly realized you were staring into his eyes, running your mouth.

Stars.

Not light-years away.

Right here.

Be honest.

“I let her get hurt, no, I hurt my younger self on purpose, because I wasn’t brave enough to believe I had a future.”

The stars looked back, and they burned bright.

“I let everyone else decide my life and when I realized I no longer had control of my future, I ran away and became a nobody,” he breathed, and you could hear the guilt, the weight of having let them all down. “I was too scared to speak up for myself, because I couldn’t trust my own dedication when everyone else had always so confidently made choices for me.” His tone stricken, torn between the possibility of him being ungrateful or worse, selfish. “I pretended like it wasn’t happening and continued acting like a kid without responsibilities until it all fell apart and I had to choose.”

It was almost shameful, saying it out loud.

“I sometimes miss who I was back then,” you mumbled, distorted, feeling weak for saying so. “Even if it was the worst… I was a kid, and I could forgive myself for not knowing who I was, but now I’m an adult and I still don’t know.”

You looked up and Jungkook was looking back. It was like two lights meeting in the darkness. No. It was like...

-

Like snow falling from a black sky.

Jungkook gazed into her eyes and the spring day was already here.

The rare snow in spring, right here, in front of his eyes and holding his hand, and he realized that didn’t mean that winter clung on. This was something new, something unique, something he would regret to forget, so he turned his hand around and held hers, her book pressed to his thigh.

“I used to think I wanted to go back to the way it was,” he said softly. “But I don’t want to. Not anymore.”

Her expression softened.

“Why?”

So small but with so much emotion behind the simple question. An intricate snowflake tumbling down, down.

“I wouldn’t have met you.”

He grinned, and he knew for sure now, that he believed in this.

“Life is so much more fun with you in it.”

He moved the books aside, the past in the past, and closed the distance between them, blanket to blanket, wrapping his around hers, insistently nudging her into his lap, and she resisted, albeit weakly, since it seemed that she couldn’t quite look him in the face, tucking her head under his chin, saying nothing.

But then her lips brushed against his skin, right by his collarbone.

“Don’t make me miss you,” she whispered.

He didn’t have to think twice, kissing the top of her head.

“I won’t.”

--

masterpost

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

(Much more than) Seven Sentence Sunday

Thank you @carlos-in-glasses for the tag! Seven Sentence Sunday is so amazing because I get to read the most amazing snippets and get super excited about future fics, but getting tagged is so lovely because it makes me feel like I have a little deadline where I don’t have to write anymore than seven sentences which really has helped motivate me to turn some ideas into writing!!

I hereby post my very first Tarlos snippet and my first entry to Seven Sentence Sunday!

It is way way longer than seven sentences but as it is my very first time posting and I’m just posting everything I’ve written so far (I literally just wrote it this evening) I hope you can bear with me🙃

Btw this is just pure whump and domestic caretaking/them seeing each other at their worst but it’s the idea that I had the most clear words for so this is what I’m starting off with

Andrea picks up the phone after the second ring.

“Hola mijo!” It’s a good thing you called actually, I was just about to prepare the tamales for lunch tomorrow. How are TK doing on the spices at the moment, is he picking up some tolerance yet? I don’t want to make them too spicy of course, but I really think he should taste them the way your grandma really used to make-“

“Hola Mama.” Carlos hurries. He feels bad for interrupting her but he wants to cancel their plans for lunch tomorrow as soon as possible so he can get back to TK. After today TK will probably be a bit more spice averse than usual anyway, he thinks with a frown, even though they have been working on him upping his tolerance lately.

“Actually mama, I’m really sorry for doing this so late, but I think we’re going to have to cancel tomorrow..”

“Oh no mijo, why? Is everything okay?” Andrea asks before Carlos can finish his sentence, concern lacing her voice.

“Yeah.. I mean, not really”, Carlos clarifies, picking the bridge of his nose. “Actually, TK’s not feeling so good at the moment.” That might be the understatement of the year, Carlos thinks but he doesn’t think TK would want him to lay out all the gritty details of his current condition. “He um, he had those tacos, you know, from that place out by Cameron Road, the one that they’ve been trying to shut down for year-“

Carlos is interrupted again by his mother gasping dramatically at the other end of the line.

“Carlitos!” She admonishes. “You haven’t warned him off about that place?!”

“Why is everybody blaming me?” Carlos feels his voice raising to a higher octave in exasperation. “He doesn’t even usually work in that district!-“

Carlos is once again interrupted, but this time it is by the sound of a painful sounding heave coming from the direction of the open door to their bathroom, followed by a pitiful whine. It shakes him out of his exasperation at being wrongfully appointed the blame for TK’s current misery. Logical or not, he does actually feel bad that he didn’t warn TK off about the taco shop that is by now known by probably all Austin locals, and not for serving delicious tacos - unfortunately.

He can almost hear his mothers pointed silence though the phone, and sighs. The Reyes kids all know better than to argue against Andrea, and she knows it - and exploits in too, although only in situations like these when there isn’t too much at stake. She too, has learned that especially when it comes to Carlos, her doing her best to listen even when she doesn’t fully understand, has repaired their relationship after too many years of just assuming that everything was alright.

He sighs. “I know, I really wish I had told him about it. He really doesn’t feel good mama.” Carlos says worriedly. It’s not that he’s feeling incapable of taking care of TK, but seeing him being in so much pain always makes Carlos feel a little bit desperate and talking to his mom about it makes him feel a little bit less out of his depth.

“I can imagine”, Andrea muses, also sounding like she hates that idea so much. Carlos sometimes still can’t get over how his parents took to TK so quickly, treating him almost as if he was their son too. “It’s a good thing he has you to take care of him Carlitos, I’m sure you’re the best there is at making feel at least a little bit better“ she reassures. Carlos forgets sometimes how well she knows him - or maybe he’s still getting used to believing it again. “I’ll tell your sisters that you two had to cancel,” Andrea continues, “and you let me know if there is anything I can do or if you need me to bring you anything.”

Carlos takes a deep breath, feeling his mom’s reassurances calm him a little. He can do this. “Thank you mama, I will. Although he probably would rather not have anybody seeing him like this, other than me and maybe Owen..”

Another pitiful sound from the bathroom reminds him why he wanted get this conversation over quickly. “I gotta go mama, but thank you. And say hi to Ana and Luisa from us,” he quickly says, before hanging up. He has some shopping to do. But first he’s gonna go rub his poor husbands back for a little while.

I have no idea whatsoever of who has and hasn’t been tagged, so I’ll tag @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm in appreciation if their recent following me back because that made me really happy thanks guys (gender neutral)🙃☺️

Anybody else seeing this wanting to be tagged should consider themselves hereby tagged !!

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this for the writing challenge of @jostystyles I hope you like it!

It is a Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x female!reader imagine, inspired by the song ‘Good in Bed’ by Dua Lipa.

Thank you @footprintsinthesxnd for proofreading!

Warnings: a bit of smut, angst

“It’s bad,” you said softly, as you looked at your friend Natasha with tears in your eyes.

It certainly wasn’t the first time you looked for her advice in your relationship with her backseater, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

You needed Bob in a way you didn’t quite understand, you needed him physically and wanted him romantically, even though he didn’t give you what you wanted.

“It’s messing with my head,” you mumbled into her hair as she hugged you, pulling you close to comfort you and nodding silently to show you she understood.

You took your time to continue, well aware of the fact that Nat already knew what you were going to say.

“We drive each other mad,” you went on, but after a few glasses of wine you always found a brighter side to it.

“Honestly, it might be what makes us good in bed,” you joked, receiving a grin from Natasha.

“A rum and soda, please, I’m not working tomorrow,” a pretty but shy aviator addressed you.

You hadn’t seen the man around so you were pretty sure he was new on deployment.

You were used to Naval aviators, but he looked special.

He seemed so gentle and thoughtful and a smile immediately graced your lips as you hurried to make his order.

The night went along quite nicely with the two of you talking casually, until you were done with your shift.

The moment the two of you stepped outside he directed you towards the wall beside you, leaning in to kiss you passionately, until your breath was gone.

“I live close by,” you mumbled breathlessly and he nodded, pulling you by your hand towards his car and following your directions until you got home.

You basically stumbled through the door, limbs entangled and lips locked, throwing the door closed with your foot as you directed him towards the bedroom.

It was a night of moans, sweat and naked skin, you were both restless, until exhaustion hit you.

Those nights became a regular occurrence with both you and Bob having fun.

You honestly had to say that you liked Bob more than you let on.

You cherished the time you spent deep in conversation as much as the sex the two of you had.

That was the reason why you asked him to become your boyfriend, after two months of just casually seeing each other.

You had grown close to not only him but his friends as well, with Nat becoming your best friend and confidante.

Bob agreed to your relationship but in contrast to what you had thought nothing really changed, you essentially stayed friends with benefits, except for that you saw each other a bit more frequently.

You repeatedly tried to get a bit more romance into your relationship, a bit more tenderness and intimacy but Bob usually grew stiff about it, if he even acknowledged your advances at all.

It was the reason for one or two discussions that turned into fights, with Bob insisting he gave you everything he could give and you desperately wishing for more.

The fights usually led to him going out and Nat coming to see you, opening a bottle of wine and talking about what you had experienced.

You had been determined to end your relationship more than once but Bob was always gentle and apologetic when he came back, taking you into his arms and whispering apologies into your hairline.

“I’m doing all I can,” he said and you nodded, which once again led to good sex.

His lips moved from your lips down your neck and his hands ran over your skin, caressing it in a way that made you feel like he cared more than he let show.

He knew your body inside out, knew exactly where to touch or kiss you, you just wished he cared enough to want to get to know you personally as well.

Instead he was focused on his work, and on physically feeling good.

His breath rang in your ear as he moved his hips rhythmically, snapping them back and forth in a quick motion as your hips met his.

You couldn’t see his face but your arms wrapped around his shoulders, roaming the soft skin and feeling the muscles ripple at having to hold his body weight up.

Your moans were loud and pleading and you held onto him for physical as well as emotional support.

Bob didn’t moan but he occasionally let out a grunt.

When you got close you leaned in to kiss his chest and shoulder, trying your best to hold off your orgasm until he was close as well.

You clenched around him with a desperate cry, and Bob came with a groan, letting his head sink to the crook of your neck.

He took his time to collect himself before he pulled away, slipping out of you and moving to put his boxer briefs back on.

When you moved to sit behind him and kiss his shoulder blade he flinched slightly, turning his head in the opposite direction.

Just like usual he had said he’d change and he hadn’t at all, which filled you with the deepest emotions.

You were sad about his absent behavior but you had orgasms that were out of this world, which was why you couldn’t quit him.

It was sad, but that’s what made you good in bed.

tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @softromantist @malindacath @aerangi @kassieesworld @oliviah-25 @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @blue-aconite @tipsykeen @airedale17 @iangiemae @uwiuwi @princessofglitterland @ycarlii @teti-menchon0604 @butaneandthebeast @call-sign-hurricane @eggscrambler84 @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

[stingraywipe]

Hey! Here's a little thing I wrote for @sincerely-sofie 's The Present is a Gift AU with her characters Twig and Kip. I wanted to get it out sooner, but alas life happened and I was unable to work on it as much as a wanted to. This is also the first time I've done any sort of creative writing in years, so hopefully it isn't too bad. Anyways, here it is! I hope you like it :)

The Sunrise

It was dawn when Kip woke up. It was rather early and he was still tired, but he rolled out of bed to go check on Twig. He knew she probably wanted her space, but he couldn’t help worrying about her more than usual after the previous few days’ events. He yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then quietly cracked open the door of Twig’s room. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that she wasn’t there. He rubbed his eyes again to make sure he was seeing right. Yup. Twig wasn’t there. Feeling panic begin to set in, Kip took a moment to breath and recollect himself.

“Calm down, there’s NO need to be freaking out about this,” he thought. “Twig likes going on walks when she needs to clear her head, or if she wants to be alone to think on something. She’s probably just doing that. She’s been through a ton the past few days, so it makes sense that she would want to do that. She’ll probably be back here soon.”

Despite knowing that, Kip decided to make a quick check outside anyway. He was already pretty awake after the initial shock of Twig’s absence, and taking a look couldn’t hurt. Maybe he could watch the sunrise while he was out there. He hadn’t done that in a while, and it would be a good way to unwind for a bit after the stress of the past week.

Apparently Twig had the same idea, because she was already sitting near the edge of the cliff looking off into the distance. She was visibly ok, and even seemed less tense than she had been recently. Despite this, Kip felt the need to make sure she was actually fine. He knew too well how Twig feels the need to hide anything that ails her from everyone no matter how serious it is, so it was going to take more than just visual evidence to convince him.

“How’ve you been holding up?” Kip asked as he approached. Twig jumped a little and spun her head around, relaxing again once she realized it was just him.

“Jeez dude, you scared me! Did you have to sneak up on me like that?”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to startle you!” Kip responded. He hurried over to where Twig was and sat down next to her. “I just wanted to check up on how you were doing. I saw you weren’t in you room and I-”

Twig cut him off. “Relax man, I’m just giving you a hard time.” She gave him a playful punch to the arm. “And, umm. I’ve definitely been better. I think I’ve cried more than enough for an entire lifetime over the past few days. Maybe even two lifetimes. I didn’t even know fire types were capable of producing that much water.”

Kip chuckled at that. “Yeah, but it needed to happen, you know. That’s what you get for being silly and stupid and somehow convincing yourself that none of us like you.”

Twig sighed. “I know, I know, you’re right. It doesn’t mean I have to like it though. It’s physically AND mentally exhausting.”

“I feel you there. I feel worn out, and I haven’t cried anywhere near as much as you!”

“Yup. I totally have you beat.”

Kip gave her a baffled look. “Are you seriously bragging about how you’ve cried more than me?”

“I sure am. I gotta take my wins when I can get ‘em.”

He burst out laughing at that. “Well, if your jokes are anything to go off of, I’d say you’re holding up pretty well. Seems to me like the funny Twig I know and love is finally starting to come back. I guess I was worried about nothing.”

Twig shrugged. “I guess.” 

Neither one of them said anything else for a while. They sat in silence and watched the sun slowly climb higher on the horizon. It was one of the sunrises with lots of pink mixed in with the oranges and yellows; the kind that Twig loved the most. The sea below them glistened like gemstones, with rolling waves that shimmered in the bright light. Kip had almost forgotten how beautiful the sunrise was at Sharpedo Bluff. Sure, he could watch the sunrise when he was away on his expedition, but they just weren’t the same there as they were here. Besides, he was with Twig now, which made it even better.  

Kip smiled. “I missed this,” he murmured.

“Missed what?” Twig asked.

“This. Watching the sunrise with you. Going on walks. Just talking. You know, enjoying the little things in life with you.”

“Dude, you know you can still do those things without me right?”

“I guess, but they wouldn’t be the same. You’re what makes them special.”

They were both quiet for a bit. Twig was first to speak again. “Dang, I really messed up a lot of stuff with my dumb thoughts then. Sorry about that.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop apologizing for that!?” Kip responded. “None of us blame you for any of that stuff. If anything, it’s MY fault for not doing anything sooner despite seeing through all of your terrible lies. Besides, it’s in the past now. All we can do is focus on what we can do now, in the present.”

“I guess you’re right.” she said. “You know dude, if you really wanted to hang out with me THAT badly, you could’ve just asked.”

“Ok, noted. You’d better be prepared for lots of requests then if that’s what it’s gonna take.” Kip glanced over at Twig. Her expression was a bit troubled, as if she was contemplating something he had said. Seeing that, he nudged her and spoke again. 

“You know I meant it right? What I said before.” 

Twig turned her head to look at him. “What? The part about how me being there somehow makes things better?”

“Yeah, that one. I want to make sure that sticks with you, because you seem to be quick to forget it. You’re an amazing person. I know it’s hard for you to see it right now, but we all really do care for you more than you could imagine. And it doesn’t matter how long it takes you to convince yourself of all that, because all of us are happy to remind you as many times as it takes. Nothing you think or say or do will ever change that.”

Twig’s eyes started watering at that. “Seriously dude,” she croaked. “I was just complaining about how I was tired of crying. Did you really have to go and make me-”

Kip pulled her into a hug, cutting her off. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me Twig. You always will be. Please don’t ever forget that.”

They stayed like that for a while. Kip held Twig there for as long as she needed to cry. After a bit, Twig slowly pulled away and took a moment to wipe the tears out of her eyes and regain her composure. 

“You good now?” Kip asked her.

“Yeah, I think so. I think I actually feel a bit better than before, funny enough.” She shifted her gaze back to the horizon, where the sun had climbed a bit higher over the ocean. They sat there quietly, simply enjoying each other’s presence. For the first time in a while, it seemed as if everything was truly at peace. 

Twig eventually broke the silence. “You know what? I missed this a lot too. This is nice.”

“Yeah,” Kip said, nodding in agreement. “This is nice.”

[whinlatter]

Hello! I just read the latest chapter of Beasts and I am, once again, blown away by your skill. I don’t usually read fics in the HP fandom (not sure why, to be honest- there are so many good ones!) but yours are far and away my favorite of the works I have read. (Re: Beasts, I would like to note that your portrayal of Hermione is dead-accurate and delightfully layered. I appreciate the kindness with which you write her, as neither a saint nor a monster— just a deeply traumatized teenage girl.)

I’m not sure if you dispense writing advice on here— if not, feel free to ignore the following— but if you are, I would love some pointers! I’m sure part of it is my anxiety talking, but I find whatever I write to be irritatingly juvenile. You do such a wonderful job of bringing nuance to your works, and I’d appreciate any guidance you have for amateur writers looking to take their fics to the “next level,” so to speak. Also, on a broader level, any tips you have about nailing characterization would be very welcome. I know the ultimate answer to my questions is simply “time and practice,” but I have a genuine desire to improve, and I figure there’s something I can do to hurry the process along.

In the interest of not wasting your time, I’ll wrap it up here. Many, many thanks!

Oh man, I’m blown away by this comment, are you kidding me? Thank you so so much. You really don’t know how much that means to hear (saving this to look back on on a rainy low self-esteem day).

On writing advice... I'm always a bit hesitant about offering writing advice, even though I have benefited so so much from other people’s advice over the years in lots of different ways (probably because I suspect few of us ever really see our own work very clearly). This is also sort of hypocritical of me because I literally teach (non-fiction) writing as part of my job, lol, but maybe this is my imposter syndrome syndroming.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about this question since you sent this, and wanted to say something that might be useful. I actually ended up going back to the (very bad) fanfiction I wrote about 15+ years ago for another fandom (I will not be linking this here lmao), to see what I do differently now and what I’d gotten better at. This was both a very unsettling but also very cathartic process, lol, because I think I’ve gotten a lot better since then (though, truthfully, it couldn’t have gotten much worse).

So, having done that, I’ve tried to put some writing advice and reflections and thoughts below that I think I’ve learnt since I first started writing and that I feel I’ve found out the hard way (by getting it wrong first time around). My points below are more ‘what I admire in other people’s work and ‘what I would like my writing to do’ rather than me thinking I do all these things well all the time, especially on the nuance and characterisation questions. Some are going to sound super obvious but I definitely did not know them once and have definitely had to work to learn all of them, so I really hope they’re useful to you all the same.

Having now sat down and read my truly truly dire past fanfiction (which has a lot of reviews on it telling me, in no uncertain terms, how and why the work sucked), I think these are the things I wish someone had told me or the things I've learnt after a long long time of getting it extremely wrong...

Writing should answer a question, or a series of questions. I think the big shift from the fanfiction I used to write is that I would start from the premise of ‘I want to write these two characters in X setting’ or ‘I want to fill in Y missing moment’. It’s not that these are bad premises - often, fic ideas start this way - but there needs to be a step after this idea before the writing happens, which is the ‘what question would this answer and what would the answer be’. To give an example, for Orchards I always wanted to write a Harry/Ginny summer teenage love story, but I never really thought of it as answering a question, and so every version I could imagine doing of it was unsatisfying. It was only when I realised the question I had was how does someone fall in love and not realise it (and, I guess, and what do they do when they’ve realised it too late?) that I was like ohhh ok, the fic needs to answer that question, and the conceit is how do we get from A (not being in love) to B (falling in love, but not knowing it) to C (knowing it, and being tormented by knowing it). The later layers the fic took on and that I now like so much - flashbacks, use of the future tense to switch to a period where Harry knows he’s in love but can’t do anything about it - all came after that realisation, and I think the fic is more satisfying for me as a writer because it answers a question I had always had in the back of my mind but hadn’t made conscious.

Show, don’t tell - so, signpost, but give the reader credit. Work that I really admire and take the most from is work that doesn’t beat the reader around the head with the point of each scene. You don’t need to tell the reader how x character is feeling. ‘Ginny felt angry because she thought Hermione was being dismissive of other people’s feelings’ - that’s a note to yourself as a writer more than it needs to be expressed so obviously written to the reader. On a first draft, maybe you need that line to be written out as you figure out how characters are feeling in that scene - that’s completely fine. But as you edit, think of ways you can show that kind of emotional response without coming out and straight up saying it. Try to cut lines that state emotional responses so starkly and jarringly, because they take the reader out of the flow of the scene. How might Ginny as a character show she’s pissed off in ways that are legible to the reader (especially a reader of fanfiction, who is familiar with her)? How can we show Hermione being dismissive (not making eye contact, for instance, or saying curt, dismissive statements that shut down the conversation). This relates to the next point which is… 

Make the setting work for you - or even let it be a character in its own right. It’s rare in any form of fiction writing that the setting or the activities around characters are incidental. This is especially true for HP, where the author uses the setting throughout to both build a sense of atmosphere but also parallel/symbolise the dynamics of the scene at hand, like little winks to the reader. The weather is often the most obvious way of doing this. As the author, you play god - the weather is exactly what you want or need it to be to best serve the scene. That doesn’t mean necessarily happy scene has to = sunny, or sad scene = rain,, but it could mean torrential rain = huge release of something pent up that’s been building for hours (think of the rain pounding on the tent when Harry and Ron have their screaming match in DH - it’s like a fourth character in that scene), or too-hot sun = rising pressure, huge discomfort, feeling prickled and angry and trapped with no shade (think of Harry at the start of OotP, in the heatwave). It doesn’t have to be weather, either. If you want to show how a character is guarded, struggling to let another character in, why not have them have the conversation hovering in a doorway, with the door partly closed? If you want to write a scene where two characters are thinking about their future together and really getting somewhere emotionally, why not have them have the conversation in a moving car, heading towards a meaningful destination (you could even have the instigator of the conversation in the literal driving seat, if you want to suggest dynamics of control or maturity). These are just examples, obviously, but the writing I really admire does this so well (and rewards re-reads for that reason).

Find a motif or a hook. This is more a personal preference, but I love reading pieces of writing that have a clear framing. The post-war summer fic I’ve been working on for nine thousand years lol only really started coming quicker once I finally found a conceit - an image, really - that worked for me (the fic is called Rubble, and the conceit is: how do you literally build a house that is a family home, as a way of thinking about rebuilding after the war, told around the Weasleys as a family). For Orchards, there are a few motifs: ‘the truth’ as a character; ‘truth or dare’ as a game, but also as a metaphor for Harry and Ginny’s early love story, and Quidditch (love is a quaffle). In Beasts, I have motifs and hooks that I hope to stretch over the entirety of the fic, not least this idea about beasts and beings and the hubris and the monstrousness of the wizarding world - I wanted to write a postwar fic for a long time, but I didn’t have a conceit that allowed me to get at the type of story I wanted to tell for ages. Within each chapter, I also like to have a little motif: so chapter two it was ‘coming back’, chapter three it was sleep and dreams, chapter four it was the soul/what makes a person who they are, chapter five was the sea. Some of these were more successful than others lol, but it helps me to fashion and discipline a piece when writing and when editing/cutting to think: everything in this piece, in some loose way, needs to link back to this theme I’m trying to thread through.

Make sure people sound/think/behave like people. I’ve put points specifically about characterisation below, but this is a more general point: characters shouldn’t sound like generic talking points, they should sound like real people putting together sentences. I think in fanfiction writing, because we often want to resolve flaws in characters, write about characters we love and admire, or want them to have the difficult conversations or hard confessions that they don’t do in canon, we sometimes can both idealise them and make them sound like very self-aware consistently compassionate angels who are experts at expressing exactly how they’re feeling in extremely emotionally healthy and communicative ways. It would be nice if our characters all did that, sure! But what makes for immersive, compelling writing is when characters try and struggle and fuck up and live their flaws, and sound like real living breathing failing growing people.

You probably need to lose the last line. The last line of a fic is important, but sometimes you can lose a reader who’s been with you the whole time with a clumsy last line or one that’s excessively cheesy or overly summarising or just seems like an afterthought because you wrap up. I say this as a real mea culpa because I still suck at last lines, but the best advice I have gotten on this is, if in doubt, cut the last line you were going to go with, lol. Let the scene end without the line you think is a great summative profound line or something reassuring or overly comforting for the reader. I am definitely still learning this (the end line of chapter four of Beasts I’m still considering cutting or editing severely lol - it’s too on the nose for my taste, and I don’t love it), but the last lines I do like most are always the most minimalist, sparse, simple, or even abstract. basically - if it sounds like chat gpt could write your last line (chat gpt loves an on-the-nose happy ending - eg. ‘Hermione knew it was all going to be ok after all’) then go back to the drawing board.

Embrace critique. This is a very subjective one, especially for writing fanfic. Writing fanfic is a rich and rewarding hobby but I recognise that it is a hobby and a source of pleasure, so lots of people prefer not to get constructive critique. I’m actually being a bit hypocritical here as I don’t currently have a beta for fic writing, but I do have a brutal self-editing process (oh, the scenes and sentences I’ve cut!) and I have spent the last decade of my life in academic writing and sharing my work-in-progress written work over and over and over again, often for a couple of hours every few weeks in front of a room of people more senior and much smarter than me all with my written work printed out in front of them ready to tell me what I got wrong and what I need to change or get better at, lol. This has been bruising to say the least, but it 100% has made me a better writer and disabused me of a lot of the bad habits I picked up when starting out, and kicked the ego out of me thinking I didn’t need to edit and draft and re-draft everything several times. I’ve also spent a long time reading and editing and responding to other people’s work, in the same way, and that’s also been super productive to help me think about how to better communicate written ideas, fiction or non-fiction. So I think real improvement and growth in your writing has to come from getting a thick skin and being able to take critique from people you respect, who are constructive not destructive, and who believe in your talents, your right to show them, and want to see your work presented in the best possible way.

On characterisation specifically...

Look for similar scenarios in the books and see how the character reacts to those. I go back to canon a lot to find plots that are analogous to the plots I’m writing to see how characters physically and verbally respond to them. My thought processes are like, Hermione and Ginny in conflict? Head to HBP when they clash over Harry and Sectumsempra to see how they fight lol. Need to write a Weasley ensemble scene? Head to Goblet of Fire Burrow chapters pre-world cup to see the family dynamics in full swing, and see how the text conveys warmth and love between the characters, while also attending to power dynamics and changing/fractious relationships, down to the adverbs used to describe how people speak, how they physically occupy the space. (I used this chapter a lot when writing the beach day scene for the latest chapter of Beasts, because I knew I was going to have a scene that in part shows how Bill operates an older brother, especially how he deals with his parents and Percy, but also how to distinguish Bill from Charlie when they’re often characters that can get blurred together a bit as ‘the older ones’.) I’m doing this a ton with Hermione atm, because I think she sometimes exists in fanon differently to how she appears in canon and I didn’t want to just assume I knew her speech patterns based on reading a lot of fanfiction about her, but also because Hermione, unlike Ron, doesn’t have her existential crisis within canon but probably (I suspect) has a post-war reckoning that speaks on insecurities and traumas that do occur within the canon text. So if I’m looking at Hermione struggling to relate to the student body, I need to go back to the canon text and find moments where some of those dynamics were already starting to come into play (eg. Hermione not getting Quidditch, Hermione’s responses to Neville telling them what life was like under the Carrows, Hermione’s relationship with other girls in her year eg. Lavender and Parvati).  

Relatedly: look at how characters that are similar to each other react to certain scenarios if you don't have enough evidence of how one character might behave. I decided with Beasts that, while Harry and Ginny are not the same person, they are characters that often react in certain situations similarly, so if I don’t have an example of how Ginny herself would respond to a certain situation (eg. injury in Quidditch), I can use Harry’s response as a bit of a guide for what Ginny would be like. That scene in chapter two where Harry and Ginny discuss her going back to Hogwarts actually borrows lines from Dumbledore and Harry’s conversation in the purgatory King’s Cross after Harry’s ‘death’ - ‘I have to go back, don’t I?’ ‘That’s up to you’ - because although Ginny deciding to go back to Hogwarts is not exactly the same as the decision Harry makes not to ‘go on’, it seemed there were enough analogies with it that I could borrow little lines and colour from that scene. (I have a bit of a cop-out dumb joke to myself in this scene - Harry saying to Ginny ‘we’re the same’ is me nodding to swapping out two very similar protagonists).

Play the ‘there’s a pigeon in the living room’ game. There’s lots of different versions of this exercise for improving characterisation, but I like this one: if this character woke up tomorrow, went into their living room and found a pigeon in it, what would they do? How would they respond? Would they scream/swear/laugh/calmly acknowledge the situation? How would they physically respond - would they try to get the pigeon out, if so how would they physically try to do that? What words could you use for how their body would move in the space while they tried to, say, open a window, or shoo it out the door? Would they call someone to help, if so, who, and why? What would they say, and how would they say it? It's such a stupid game but I do really find it helpful to better inhabit the character, especially if the character is very different from you as the author.

Good characterisation means trying to get everyone right. The trouble sometimes with fanfiction writing is that we have our main character as someone that we love and want to write about, and then harness all other characters in the service of our main character’s personal development. But that’s not really how real people behave - people rarely walk around thinking all day every day about one specific main-character person they know, lol (I always think of the bits in Inception where everyone starts looking at the person in the dream…) Strong characterisation means having at least a working understanding of what motivates every character that interacts with the main character in the fic, that thinks about how both characters perceive their relationship, and how their behaviours and the things they say might change based on who they’re talking to. Characterisation is deeply relational, and very much about how characters react or respond in a way that’s highly specific and contextual. It just takes a lot of really boring slog work of figuring how characters’ typical sentence structures, their body language, their thought-processes, who they gravitate towards, the kind of arc or change they are capable of. It’s important not to come in with judgement, and from a place of wanting to understand and empathise with a character. (It's why I don't really write characters I don't fully understand or 'get' - I'd do a horrible job!)

The last thing I want to say is that the best advice I ever received is pretentious and cloying but true: it's to know your gift. You say you find your own writing ‘irritatingly juvenile’. But in even asking a question like the one you’ve asked, you’ve shown you’re clearly a thoughtful, curious and creative person - and thoughtful, curious and creative people will always produce writing that other people will get something out of. I’ll bet your writing has real strengths, some that you don’t even see and others that actually (at least I hope!) you recognise and that you’re really proud of. This doesn’t mean you can’t develop new skills or improve or challenge yourself. But starting any process of improvement by clearly identifying what you’re good at (knowing your gift), figuring out why you’re good at it, thinking about how best to showcase it and believing you have a right to show this talent or skill is really important. I know this is excruciating to do but I really recommend making a little list of things and starting from this point of acknowledging you have stories to tell and ways of telling them that other people will admire and benefit from you sharing with them. You'll never actually want to improve if you come from a place of being horrible to yourself as a writer. What you do has worth, and wanting to improve is a journey we're all on, just trying to find ways to better share what we have and have it mean something to someone else who comes across it.