#if you'd like to talk in specifics ('how was your experience writing x fic?' 'how did you do y?') im always happy to do so as well

[lurvly-malice]

"I wish I could've realised sooner that I loved you"

pairing: Sebastian X GN!Reader (no gendered terms used x)

summary: Just sebastian reflecting on his experience with the farmer and realising a little too late about his feelings for them

warnings: a little angsty but not really

A/N: first fic uploaded here! I saw the prompt on Pinterest "I wish I could've realised sooner that I loved you" and just wanted to write this so pls be nice or I'll bite x

He remembers the buzz that spread through Pelican Town about a new farmer coming to town. The excitement didn't grip him like it did the others. Instead, he just thought, 'Why the hell would anyone move to this shithole?'. But then came the day when you first crossed paths with him—or rather, when you sought him out, you sought everyone out, eager to make friends. You approached him with a bright look in your eye he couldn't reciprocate at the time. You asked questions, so many questions, though he didn't always bother with full answers. Yet, you didn't seem to mind, simply smiling in response.

In fact, you seemed to seek him out persistently, showing up wherever he happened to be. He couldn't help but wonder, 'Who the hell would want to hang out with me so much?' And hang around you did—always, it seemed. He had to give you credit for your persistence. It never occurred to him that you sought him out specifically, remembering every little detail he let slip during your conversations. Heck, he couldn't even recall half the things he shared with you. Conversation had never been his strong suit, especially not with someone new. It was just another trivial aspect of this mundane town.

And then, there were the gifts. Those moments when you'd approach him with that smile, hands hidden behind your back as you presented a small trinket, like a frozen tear he offhandedly mentioned he thought looked cool—a token of your affection. He didn't usually receive gifts, except from his mom or Sam on his birthday and Christmas. He never really cared for them either. It was a gesture that caught him off guard, and yet here you were, offering him one on a random day for no apparent reason. Little did he realize then how commonplace such acts would become, or how often you thought of him, or how much thought and care you put into each token you gave him, but he did always make sure to be careful when handling your gifts. And he had to admit, a small smile would tuck at the corners of his lips every time he looked at them, not knowing how much he would begin to treasure them. He had to admit, it was nice, you were nice.

You were an awfully good listener, and even better at making him talk, which was irritating. Given that you always talked to him, he supposed you rubbed off on him, it just seemed easier to talk about things with you. He wished he'd listened to those details more in the beginning, perhaps even given you gifts of the things you said you liked. It turned out he didn't mind listening to you; he actually enjoyed it. He remembers a lot of it, like how you wished you played the keyboard as well as him, and how he offered to teach you, light-heartedly but never did. He wished he did now.

He remembers how he got annoyed whenever you initially tried to talk to him, thinking you were just dragging on the conversation for the sake of it. That turned to confusion when you didn't let up, even after settling into town. He never thought those would turn out to be the favourite parts of the day, or that he would be the one seeking you out. He can't believe he used to be annoyed by it. Even worse, he can't believe how much he would miss it when you two would talk alone, at night, where he knew only you heard the things he told you. When he knew how much you heard him and saw him. How you always smiled and never laughed at him or judged him for wanting to leave this town or be alone.

Nobody saw him the way you did.

He noticed you smiled a lot. Who wouldn't, he thinks, with a smile like that? He doesn't know how he didn't realize it sooner, but seeing your smile so often left the image permanently scored in his brain. The corners of your eyes would crease, and you would tilt your head slightly. Such a stark contrast to him. Oh, he rarely smiled, not because he was sad, he just didn't find many things worth smiling for, which you often rolled your eyes at. He remembers how you called his smile nice and that he should do it more, but he didn't think he would. Oh no, he was not like you.

You smiled at everything, the little things and the big things and the things he found annoying. So much so, he even began to notice how you had so many different smiles. The one where you were happy, when you were excited, sarcastic, the big ones, the small ones, the forced ones, even when you were actually mad or sad or nervous. Even if it was just through your eyes, each subtly different, but he learned to notice. He had never noticed back then how the smile you showed him was different from the ones you gave everyone else. Until they weren't.

And he never thought the day would come when he wished you'd only smile for him

He never imagined you actually liked him. Yes you were nice, you were lovely, in fact, but you were like that with everyone. He never really paid much mind to the way you blushed when asking him to dance with you at the flower dance. That stupid dance Mayor Lewis insisted on having that bored him to tears. He remembers at the time thinking he would've wanted to dance with Abigail if he had to, but now he can't believe he said no to you. How could he have said no to you? He thinks he would not mind if you asked again, to dance with you.

In fact, he doesn't think he'd mind a lot of things now that you were here. He stopped feeling so sick of Pelican Town, for one. He thinks he could stay, maybe on your farm. And he visited much more than he ever thought he would.

But now he notices how the smile you give him now is different than before. A subtle difference, but he could never forget it now. Now you gave him the smile you gave everyone else, just now noting they were different - warmer.

He wanted to go back.

Now he notices how you don't actively track him down the way you used to, thinking he’d hear you knock on his door the way you always did, at the time you alwasy did, and he finds himself wanting to do the same to you.

He doesn't know if he's being dramatic at first, but when you don't ask him to dance with you at the flower dance, his heart sinks a little. He thought to ask you, perhaps, since you were friends now. Yes, you were friends now, one of his closest friends.

Oh, but then you asked Sam next to him, and you laughed, saying 'it would be fun.' And then his heart doesn't only sink but full on plummets to his stomach.

You're right, it would be fun, Sebastian thinks. But the feeling of watching you dance with somebody else made him want to throw up, and he didn't know why…

Until he did. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he did. How embarrassing, he thinks - he wished he realised he had fallen for you sooner, before you fell out of love with him.

[wwinterwitch]

rational, irrational — coriolanus snow

summary: the newest peacekeeper in your district can't seem to stay away from you, but you're just having casual fun together...right? pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district!fem reader word count: 6.5k  tags: smut and fluff, there's plot here, corio being corio, he's all over you the man's desperate, briefly suggestive in public (no one sees tho), specifics about reader (plays guitar, has a mom and dad, wears a dress, is carried by corio and is shorter), i wrote it thinking reader is 20 and he's 21 btw, dry humping, everything's rough and passionate, clothed f/naked m, marking and biting, unprotected p in v, pet names (princess, baby, my beautiful girl), he moans a lot (and whimpers!), reader is an overthinking queen, love confession (mutual)

happy new year my loves, i wish you the happiest 2024!! i'm so so proud of this fic, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it.

reblog or comment if you enjoy please!

all masterlists | thg masterlist | read on ao3

Coriolanus Snow is a very patient guy. So patient, that he sits quietly by one of the corners of that filthy-looking place while you have a good time. He's not really fond of spending time with the people in District Twelve– why would he? Everything about this place makes him nauseous, and he's pretty sure he would've found a way to get back to the Capitol already if it wasn't for you.

You, with your stupid smile and your stupid eyes and your stupid charm that managed to captivate him enough to actually make him want to be here. He may not be a fan of the people from your District, and he might not even be that interested in music at all, but he’s definitely a fan of seeing you enjoy yourself. He’s willing to sit throughout the entire performance because he knows you’re really passionate about your music, and how much you like it when he’s in the crowd to watch you.

The only thing that makes the experience tolerable is getting to see you play your guitar and twirl around in your pretty dress to the sound of the music. Hell, he even thought he was ascending to heaven every time you'd turn to look in his direction, noticing the way your smile would widen when you eventually lock eyes with him.

As soon as you got off the tiny stage, he made his way towards you with the clear intention of getting out of there to finally be alone with you. Before he can even say anything, you notice him approaching and immediately hand your guitar to one of your friends before you practically trot towards him.

There’s a big smile on your face when you’re standing in front of him, immediately pulling him in for a hug as a way of saying hi. He was busy before the show, unfortunately, so you didn’t have the chance to talk to him until now.

“You were incredible up there,” he congratulates you, leaving a quick kiss on the top of your head, his arms keeping you close to him.

Blushing lightly, you rest your head on his chest, allowing the hug to last longer than you initially anticipated before finally taking a step back from him. “Thank you.”

“Sorry I showed up a little late today.” He looks genuinely apologetic, even when you’ve told him countless times he shouldn’t feel pressured to be here every time you’re going to perform. “I wanted to bring you flowers, too, but I didn’t have time.”

You immediately shake your head when you hear him start apologizing. “It’s okay, Coriolanus. You don’t have to explain yourself, really,” you insist like always, because it really isn’t necessary. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend, and even if he were, you wouldn’t want him to feel obligated to do anything for you.

He smiles down at you, silently appreciating the fact that you understand his early absence. Leaning closer again, he puts a hand on the small of your back. “Should we go now?” 

The question makes you giggle. He's been like this since the first time the two of you started seeing each other. He's always wanting to spend time with you alone, away from your friends and other people he, again, doesn't care about at all. He's not here in Twelve to make friends, after all.

But even when you’ve always enjoyed his eagerness to get some alone time with you, you promised your friends to hangout with them after the show. "Let me have one drink with my friends and we'll be on our way,” you quickly reply. The look on his face was more than enough to let you know he was not happy about that plan, which makes you take a step closer to him to place a quick kiss on his cheek. "One drink. I promise."

You start walking away before he has time to come up with something to argue back, so he has no other choice but to wait even longer. He kept a serious expression on his face, barely making any attempts to join in on the conversation your friend group was having, even when everyone tried their best to include him in it. He clearly hated the idea of still having to share you with other people.

As much as your friends have expressed their concerns about his behavior, you can't help but enjoy the fact that he seems to be so incredibly obsessed with you. Yes, it's maybe a little too much sometimes, but you actually like it.

You like that he's always touching your body in any possible way, whether it's holding your hand, rounding your waist, or putting a hand at the small of your back. You also like that he's always keeping a watchful eye on you. It's like you're his most prized possession; he just can't risk losing you, so he's always following you around, making sure everyone treats you right and with respect. Whoever dares to mess with what's his would regret it for the rest of their life.

From the moment he laid eyes on you, he just had this need to have you. To know you, to keep you close, to gain your attention. Already used to getting what he wants, he knew it was a matter of time before he managed to do just that. It didn't take long before you were accepting to spend more and more time with him, and from that moment forward he's been glued to your side. 

It's still a mystery to you what he, a guy surrounded by privileges and luxuries from the Capitol, is even seeing in you, a nobody from the most disgraceful District. Still, you were surprised by how incredibly attentive he is with you.

Even when he knows he could get in serious trouble, he always manages to sneak away from his duties as a Peacekeeper to spend time with you. He has never ever missed one of your shows. Tigris is always asking about ‘the mystery girl he has a crush on, that she just can’t wait to meet one day’ whenever the two of them manage to talk.

Even your family has questioned you about what the hell you're up to every time you come back home holding a bouquet of azaleas. He used to give you roses, until he learned you actually prefer azaleas– not any azaleas, no, because you like the purple ones over any other of the colors so he's always getting you purple azaleas.

However, no matter how good he treats you or how seemingly obsessed he is, you always remind yourself not to think too much of it, knowing better than to get your hopes up regarding someone like Coriolanus Snow.

Because you have to be realistic here. You’ll always be in District Twelve, but he’ll eventually go back to the Capitol. Neither of you have really wanted to talk about what would happen then, choosing to enjoy the time you get to have together instead, but that doesn’t mean you don’t think about it more and more everyday.

He could promise you many things. That he’ll keep in touch with you, that he’ll find a way to visit, that he’ll never let the distance be an issue. But that’s just stupid. With such a lavish life, surrounded by privileges and important people, it’s only a matter of time before he forgets you even existed.

But it’s okay if he forgets. You’ve come to terms with that ending by now, because it’s part of what you knew you’d have to live with if you decided to get involved with him.

So, even when it’s difficult, you try to remind yourself not to look forward to a future with him because people like you and people like him simply cannot have a future together. The only thing you do allow yourself to think about is that, at least for the time being, he seems to be interested in you and he's ridiculously attractive, so why not having fun while you can?

So Coriolanus waited and waited, until you were putting away your guitar and finishing your third drink –definitely not one, he noticed– to head out the little pub with him. In a matter of seconds, his hand is resting once again on your lower back as he guides you outside, making sure to move people out of the way for you.

He offered to carry your guitar case before grabbing your hand and starting to head towards the forest. Like many times before, the two of you had to sneak around in dark alleys and deserted streets to avoid being seen. No one should be going into the forest at night, especially if we’re talking about a young girl with a Peacekeeper all by themselves. 

"Stop it!" you warn him in a playful whisper when he's grabbing your hips yet again, cornering you against a brick wall in a poorly-lit street. Still, you show barely any resistance or actual annoyance as you wrap an arm around his neck. "We'll get caught."

"So?" he asks with a mischievous grin, leaning closer to you. "If that happens, I'll just make something up." Shrugging, he brushes your worries off as he presses his body to yours, pushing you against the wall. "You really made me wait back there, you know?" he adds in a lower voice, his face impossibly closer, your nose brushing with his. "How do you expect me to behave now when I've been waiting all night to be alone with you?"

That last comment makes you look up at him in a way that encourages him to squeeze your body against the wall even more, making you gasp a little.

Your body is always testing him. He's almost convinced that you know the power you hold over him and completely take it to your advantage. This is definitely one of those times, because you've decided to wear that dress he loves so much on you and you just keep looking up at him with that doe-eyed look that's making it really difficult to keep himself under control.

He settles for a kiss for now, pressing his lips to yours in a way that perfectly shows how much he's needing you. He holds your face with one hand, his tongue immediately moving past your lips and inside your mouth to deepen the kiss. Your legs almost tremble when he captures your lower lip between his teeth before pulling back entirely, a small smirk adorning his lips when he locks eyes with you again because he knows he's not the only one that's forgetting you're in the middle of a street.

Yes, he's down bad, but he's also aware of the effect he has on you and he loves watching it reflected on your face.

He lets out a low chuckle when you eventually push him away from you, deciding to continue the walk to the forest, grabbing your hand again to guide you through the narrow streets and making sure to keep an eye out to avoid getting caught.

"What did you tell your parents this time?" he asks, the playful tone in his voice evident. You didn't need to see his face to know he was grinning.

"Sleepover," you simply say, blushing.

"Again?"

The little chuckle that escapes his lips makes you blush even more, lightly hitting his arm with your available hand. "Would you prefer I tell them I'm sneaking into the forest with you?"

There's a brief silence, and for a second you thought that was it regarding that conversation, until you hear him speak again. "Do you think they'd like me?"

You're not entirely sure where that question is coming from. At first you thought it was just another little comment to tease you, but when you look up at him you notice the expression on his face. He genuinely seems serious about it, and he briefly looks down at you before looking ahead, seemingly intrigued by your answer.

Would your parents like him? Perhaps your mom will be thrilled that you found someone because you've rarely ever talked to her about anyone potentially capturing your interest in a romantic way. Even if you reveal that he’s a guy from the Capitol. You can already picture her bombarding Corio with compliments, and the thought of them meeting actually makes you visibly smile.

But your dad might be a completely different story. He's always talking about how much he hates the Capitol, after all. And the fact that he almost got in trouble with the Peacekeepers recently might be another strong indicator that perhaps he'll have his reservations about someone like him dating you.

But he's not being serious about this, you tell yourself. This is his way of teasing you, of course.

Still, the look on his face stops you from being entirely playful about your answer, because despite your brain trying to remind you to be realistic about the nature of your relationship, part of you fears he really wants to know what you have to say.

"I don't know," you eventually reply, voice a lot lower than you expected. "Perhaps your charm can persuade them too."

You notice him smile after your last comment, but you don't know if that answer was enough for him. Maybe it wasn't. "I'm sure I can find a way to win them over," he replies as confident as ever. Again, you're not sure if he's just joking or not. Thankfully, he doesn't say anything else about it and you decide to stay quiet too.

Already in the forest, it was practically impossible to get his hands away from your body. You had to walk with his arms around you, his lips occasionally pressing against your temple, neck or the side of your face. If you managed to slip from his grip even for the shortest of instances, he'd grab your arm and pull you back into his embrace.

It's only fair that he gets to hold you close to him as much as he wants. He has been patient enough for you, after all. He stayed in that bar to watch you have fun with your friends while you barely paid any attention to him. Do you really expect him to keep waiting until you reach that stupid cabin? Not a chance. Not when he's been waiting to be alone with you for hours.

The two of you finally reach the cabin and he only moves away from your body to open the door for you, his eyes hungrily trailing down your body as you walk inside. That goddamn dress looks just so good on you, his hands are practically shaking in anticipation as he closes the door behind him.

You turn around to look at him with a soft smile, watching as he carefully places your guitar case on the floor, leaving it resting against a wall before walking towards you. He's immediately grabbing your face with his hands, pulling you in for a kiss so incredibly desperate that it almost makes your legs tremble.

He's always been like this– passionate, devoted, needy. He kisses you like your mouth is the air he needs in order to stay alive. He takes a few steps backwards until he's once again cornering you against the wall, and the way he presses his body against yours with urgency isn't doing much to help your poor state.

"Corio..." you whisper, surrounded by the darkness of the cabin, seeing his features illuminated by the moonlight coming from one of the windows. He takes his time to look at you– really look at you, marveling at how your eyes are reflecting all the raw emotions he's feeling right now in this very moment with you. The way your body silently expresses your need for him to continue, how your chest rises and falters faster than usual.

But he also focuses on other things. Things you probably don't even know he'll be thinking about when he looks at you like this. Because he also takes a second to admire how unbelievably beautiful you are and the way your body fits so perfectly against his. He even has the time to realize how fast his own heart is beating, that foreign feeling that keeps appearing within him every time he's near you completely overtaking him.

You gasp softly when one of his hands lifts your dress, enough to reach your thigh as he squeezes your flesh with a low groan. "You made me wait all night," he mutters, sounding genuinely upset at this still– offended, even. "I went to see your little concert to be with you, and that's how you pay me? Just ignoring me?"

"I didn't–"

"You did," he insists, and despite the anger and frustration in his voice, you know he's not really directing any of those emotions at you. Or at least not entirely. He's just really desperate to be with you, to feel more of what you have to offer. 

There's a brief pause where Coriolanus is taking his chance to move his hand from your thigh to your ass, urging your hips forward to meet his half-way. You let out a soft moan, he smirks devilishly. "I don't think that was very nice of you."

Shortly after that last comment, he's leaning down to press his lips on your neck. Every kiss is sloppy, hurried, desperate, his hand on your ass urgently pushing you forward while he presses his growing bulge against your lower stomach.

The low moans escaping his lips makes you shiver, gripping his biceps while you tilt your head back against the wall to expose more of your neck to him.

His teeth dig into your flesh, making you moan louder. "I'm sorry..." you mutter in a breathless voice, feeling his frustration in the way he's handling your body. "I'm sorry..."

He completely ignores your apologies, much more preoccupied on kissing down your neck towards your collarbone. Your back arches when his lips trail lower, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your cleavage.

The hand on your ass moves to the back of one of your thighs, lifting your leg up until your knee is practically leveling with his hips, aligning your bodies better. The gesture exposes you just enough, creating the perfect angle for him to grind against you properly.

He moves back to watch your reaction as he rocks his hips forward, his clothed erection pressing against the fabric of your underwear in a delicious friction. Your broken moan echoes in the empty cabin, combined with the groan of pure ecstasy that escapes his lips.

"All night," he repeats through gritted teeth. "All fucking night you had me waiting."

You didn't reply. If you tried to say you didn't, he'd argue back. If you tried to apologize, he wouldn't listen. Unlike what many would think, you've genuinely got to know him during his stay in your district. You know it's better to just shut up and let him win, at least sometimes– especially times like this when he's making you feel so good and you don’t really have the strength or mind to insist.

He's probably the most stubborn person you'll ever meet. There's no way of ever making him change his mind about anything. But you like him just like that.

He's kissing your lips again, just as desperate as before, hungrily claiming your mouth. Without moving back from the kiss, he grabs your other leg to fully lift you off the ground. You immediately wrap your legs around his waist, keeping your hands on his shoulders for support while he walks towards the couch that's in front of the empty fireplace with you in his arms.

He gently places your body on top of the couch, making sure you're comfortable as he moves back from you. A soft smirk appears on his lips when his eyes meet yours. With desperate hands and rushed movements, he starts removing the jacket of his Peacekeeper uniform, and you watch in silent appreciation as he removes his clothing on top of you.

First it was the jacket, then it was the plain white t-shirt he was wearing underneath, barely giving you time to admire his torso before he's leaning down to kiss you, continuing the heavy and passionate make out.

You run your hands up and down his back, careful not to be too rough with the way your fingers trace his skin. Even when the injuries on his back have healed completely, you were still fearful of hurting him.

Unlike you, Coriolanus is anything but gentle. One of his hands keeps a strong grip on your hip, pinning you down to the worn-out couch. The other moves up your frame, groping your breasts to his will. Still, despite the roughness of it all, there's an undeniable sense of care in the way he treats you. He holds onto you so tight because he physically can't bring himself to hold you in any other way, and because he knows you like that extra pressure his strong hands provide whenever he touches your body.

He'll never ever keep a strong grip on you like this with the intention of hurting you. It's not meant to hurt, but to show you through his touch how badly he needs to feel your body. How he can't function properly if he's not keeping you close. How he wants to make sure you're actually there with him, making him feel like this, and that you won't disappear into thin air to leave him completely alone. He can't let you disappear. He won't be able to live if you go.

The familiar sound of his belt echoes in the room, and you don't need to pull away from the kiss and look down to know he's urgently trying to get rid of the barrier of clothing separating your bodies.

"Take your panties off," he ordered in a rushed voice, moving back just enough to look at you. The huge amount of urgency hidden behind his captivating blue eyes makes you blush despite yourself, marveling at how he’s able to give you an instruction but still look like he’s pleading for it. "You can keep the dress on, though," he adds not too long after, taking another look down your body appreciatively. "It looks so pretty on you."

You immediately do as told. He gives you just enough space to reach under your dress to slide your panties down your legs while he finishes undoing his belt, starting to unzip his pants now.

It's actually a lot harder to remove your underwear than you initially anticipated, struggling to fully get rid of them at first due to your boots. He quickly notices it, helping to take them off before finally getting rid of your panties.

Waiting not-so-patiently (a thing you might have in common with him, apparently), you watch as Coriolanus focuses back on unzipping his pants, hurriedly sliding them down his legs along with his boxers. You barely catch a glimpse of his rigid cock before he's lifting one of your legs up again, pressing his body against yours and giving you absolutely no time to react as he's filling you up in one swift, hard thrust of his hips.

A shuddering moan of pure relief escapes his lips when he's finally able to feel your heat surrounding him. He holds onto your body for dear life, burying his face in your neck, needing to feel you close to him while he stays balls-deep inside you for a second. Savoring it, cherishing it, thanking whatever it was that put you in his life, trying to remember exactly how it feels to be like this with you just in case you ever decide to keep him waiting again. 

Not at all ready for such intrusion, you let out a pathetic little whimper that makes the moment that much enjoyable for him. You hold tightly onto his body as well, your palms pressed to his shoulder blades, brows furrowed in both pleasure and slight discomfort.

"Fucking–" he grunts, breathlessly, feeling like the happiest man on earth right now, "missed this."

He starts to move, slowly sliding his cock out of you before slamming back inside with such force that it makes you whimper out loud once again. Every beautiful sound coming out of your mouth drives him even more insane, encouraging him to do whatever he possibly can to keep them coming.

An almost animalistic groan escapes his lips when he feels you biting onto his shoulder. Your teeth sinking into his skin like that makes him lose the little self-control he had left, the movements of his hips only increasing as they become quicker, rougher. It's practically impossible to think any coherent thoughts or try to speak, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock fucking you relentlessly, aggressively, desperately.

Coriolanus fucks you like his life depends on it. Like he's been deprived of your body for years. Like it's the last time he'll ever get the chance to do it so he's forced to make the most of it. He leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck, drawing a particularly lovely moan when you feel him suck on your skin in a way that'll definitely leave a mark later. You really don't care, he can mark you all he wants.

His hips move rapidly, refusing to give you even the tiniest of seconds to relax. The impact of his skin slapping against yours mixed with the absolutely obscene sounds coming from his cock sliding in and out of your aching little hole are as loud as the sounds coming from your mouths. You whimper desperately, he groans completely consumed by the feeling of sharing this moment with you.

"That's it, princess," he praises you in a low voice. You're being so good for him, gladly taking every inch of him, squeezing him in a way that's making his eyes roll to the back of his head as he forces his hips to move as fast as possible. "You feel incredible...so tight...just perfect for me."

When he moves back from your neck, he could've swore he almost came right there and then just by looking at your face. You look back at him through half-lidded eyes, swollen lips parted while you keep moaning and whimpering for him, skin glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed. The fact that you look so beautifully wrecked thanks to him has got to be one of his biggest accomplishments. He'll probably never get enough of this sight, of you, of your body, of your wet pussy taking him so incredibly good that he's not sure he can keep this up much longer.

And he knows you can't handle much of this either. You don't need to say it out loud for him to know– which is good, because it's not like you can utter a single word right now. He can see it in the way you're struggling to keep your eyes open, hear it in the way your cries come out more and more broken, feel it in the way your walls repeatedly squeeze him tighter and tighter.

His tongue invades your mouth if a passionate kiss, all messy and hot, teeth clashing while you moan into each other's mouths. He kisses you hungrily for a few seconds before pressing his forehead to yours, knowing it's a matter of time before he gets to feel you come around his cock.

"Corio..." you call out his name, barely able to speak. He moves back just enough to look at you.

"I know, baby. I know," he replies in a soft voice, completely contrasting with his rapid thrusts and ragged breathing.

He closes his eyes for a second, so lost in the moment, feeling his entire body on fire and his heart beating like crazy. He sneaks an arm underneath you, lifting your hips just enough and keeping them there, both of you voicing how good that new angle feels with a particularly louder moan.

When he opens his eyes again, noticing the way you're looking up at him, he realizes it. How good this feels because he's sharing it with you. How he'll never be able to share moments like this with anyone that's not you, and even if he dares to try it'll always be second-best now that he got to experience you.And it's not just the sex, but everything. From the pride of making you blush with the tiniest of compliments, to the honor of holding your hand. From the warm and fuzzy feeling inside him every time you kiss him, to the way you seem so interested to hear his stories about his life back in the Capitol. From the absolute gift that is seeing you laugh at one of his jokes (even the bad ones), to the minutes he spends collecting purple azaleas in the forest. He wants none of that if it’s not with you.

Before he can even fully comprehend just how risky it is, he's voicing that one thought that keeps repeating over and over in his head. A thought that's probably been on his mind long before he even allowed himself to acknowledge it. "I love you," he whispers, the confession both heavy and relieving. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

In other circumstances, you would probably be absolutely shocked by that revelation. You'd stand in front of him without knowing what to say, trying to figure out if those words actually came out of his mouth or if you're just going insane. Or maybe you'd act like you did earlier when he asked about your parents, trying to trick your insecure mind and distrustful heart to believe he's not being serious– that what you have isn't serious at all.

But it's different when you're underneath him and he's claiming your body in the most excruciatingly good way, because you're deprived of all your rationality. You can't think, you can't be scared or doubt everything like you tend to do. You're stripped of almost everything, except from your most basic and natural instincts.

So, in a moment like this, it's so easy to admit the inevitable truth you seem to be running away from when you’re actually able to overthink. "I love you," you repeat, and it's so simple. So right.

He’s over the moon when he hears you say that, already wanting to hear it again and again and again because it sounds absolutely heavenly when those three little words come out of your mouth. He didn't know how much he needed to hear them until now.

You manage to distract him, however, when your moans come out more desperately than ever before, feeling the way you clench around him like crazy. "Corio..." you manage to cry out again, the vulnerability and exhaustion in your voice sending shivers down his spine.

It's a mystery to him if you wanted to say something else aside from his name, because as soon as it leaves your mouth you’re moaning louder than ever before, your entire body convulsing with the intensity of the orgasm that overtakes your whole being. Arms and legs wrapped around him, forehead resting on his shoulder, a few tears escaping your eyes due to how much you’re feeling right now.

With him, it always feels amazing, but oh does it feel even better now that you know he loves you.

Your orgasm was all he needed to be driven over the edge, his arm underneath you tightening its grip on you while the other barely provides support to his body so he doesn't crush you under his weight. "Yes, yes…" he moans, his face against your neck, the only things in his mind being the feeling of your orgasm and how badly he wants to fill you up now. "Oh, fuck, baby..." he practically whimpers those words out, completely overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

He finally comes undone, shooting his load deep inside you as a few more whimpers escape his mouth, his peak hitting him harder than ever before. It's almost like the more instances he gets to be like this, giving you exactly what you deserve, making love to you, the better it feels. Makes him come back for more every time, crave you in a way he's never experienced before. 

His movements in and out of you slow down considerably, but he refuses to stop just yet. His hips continue to meet yours even after he's fully empty, all of his cum already coating your inner walls, but making sure to fuck every drop into you before he allows himself to fully slide out.

Panting heavily, he moves his head back enough to look at you, admiring your face of pure bliss after he tried his very best to give you everything he had in him to make you feel good. One arm stays wrapped around your body, using his available hand to brush your sweaty hair away from your face. "My beautiful girl," he compliments you in a breathless whisper, looking deeply into your eyes with immense adoration and possessiveness.

He just needed to have you like this. Alone, all to himself, making those cute little sounds that drive him insane, filled with his cum. Yes, he's a very patient person, but he can't control himself when it comes to you. Surely you understand, after what you’ve experienced together tonight and the confession that slipped from his lips, why he needed to get the hell out of that crowded pub. He's completely in love with you, how is he supposed to act like he doesn’t?

You're even more exhausted than him, barely able to keep your eyes open as you give him a soft smile when you hear the way he's complimenting you. He gently holds your face with one of his hands and you lean into his touch almost immediately. Leaning closer, he kisses you once again, a lot more controlled now but still as passionate as ever. Silently appreciating the way you handled the roughness of his movements, thankful that you shared such an intimate and intense moment with him, insanely happy to know you love him as much as he loves you.

He moves away from your lips, only to start kissing all over your face, muttering praises and compliments in between each of them, making you giggle as you gladly accept his affection.

Eventually, he pulls out of you and moves away from your body entirely, giving you enough space to sit up on the couch and look for your discarded panties. As you do that, he starts the process of dressing himself too, putting his boxers and pants back on.

You watch him in silence, playing with your fingers on your lap as you wait for him to join you on the couch again. Your insecurities were getting the best of you once again, and he immediately notices it the second he’s taking a seat next to you.

He looks visibly worried, leaning closer as he grabs one of your hands, searching for your eyes because you seem to be way too lost in your own head to fully be there in that moment with him. “What is it?”

The concern is evident in his voice, making you feel almost guilty for doubting the words that he said to you earlier. How could you doubt him when he looks at you like this?

“It’s nothing, I just…” you start, sighing as you look down at your hands to watch the way he intertwined his fingers with yours, the gesture incredibly reassuring. "Did you mean it?" you ask in a low voice. "What you said earlier?"

"Of course I did." He doesn't hesitate in the slightest. "Did you?"

Surprisingly enough, you don't hesitate either. "Yes."

The way he smiles right after your answer has got to be one of the best sights you've ever seen in your entire life. It encourages you to find enough courage to express your feelings for him once again, wanting to initiate the exchange this time.

You give his hand a gentle squeeze while you look up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes. "I really, truly, do love you, Coriolanus," you say in the most sincere voice he's ever heard.

"I love you too," he replies, that beautiful smile from before only widening. It's impossible not to smile back at him, and he feels even happier when he notices the way you blush despite the darkness of the night. "More than I thought I could ever love anyone."

He keeps your hand in his, and you notice there's no hesitation in his voice when he decides to test his luck once again. "Come to the Capitol with me," he says, but it's not exactly an order. If anything, it sounds more like a hopeful plea.

Again, you should probably think rationally about this. Leave all your life behind to go to a place that's nothing like what you're used to? To live amongst people that are nothing like you, with a completely different lifestyle? What would the people of the Capitol even think when they know there's someone from the districts (and worse, from Twelve) pretending to be one of them? Is Corio even thinking about any of this?

And what about your friends? Or your family? What if someone needs you and you're not here? Would they understand that you're leaving them here for a guy, even when you try to explain how much you love him? And what would you do when you're at the Capitol? Are you going to study? Or try to actually pursue music? Will you ever be able to come back to District Twelve? What if you miss your home? What if you hate the Capitol?

When you look back into Corio's eyes, suddenly none of those questions matter. You try to be rational, but maybe there's nothing rational about falling in love. Maybe you just need to feel it, and right now you feel incredibly at peace. So seen, so much more like yourself, so ridiculously in love that you're happy knowing absolutely nothing is making sense.

So, you don't hesitate again when you nod. His eyes light up and a bright smile appears on his face, tightening his grip on your hand. “Yeah?” he asks, almost unable to contain his excitement, leaning closer just enough.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, because the idea of leaving everything behind to follow him to the Capitol sounds absolutely insane, but it feels so right. “Yes,” you confirm.

You feel his lips press against yours immediately after. The kiss feels like a silent closure. A way of ending the conversation, sealing the promise you’ve made to have a new life together. A way of saying goodbye to your life here in District Twelve.

[toyaslove]

Hiiiii! Please don’t overwork yourself and take your time with this if you want to do it, but can I please request Toya (headcanons or fic, I don’t mind) with a reader who had a bad experience in a past relationship and now is really awkward with physical touch but they secretly love it. Again, only do this if you want to and have a great day/night.

PS: apparently Brazil time is 4 hours behind Uk time so I can figure out what time it is there >:) no idea what I’ll do with that information but oh well

A/N: YAAAAY hello! Finally doing your req🔥 yep we already talked about it and Brazil is 4 hours behind hehehebdjbe. Hope you're doing good! This wasn't so hard to write bc I'm just like you rhakruwo but not exactly the same thing

Tw: stablished relationship

Toya Aoyagi x GN!Reader

Tags: @sentientsoil @kuzui5201314 @miya-akane

Touch!

Writing style: some hcs and a little scenario!

— Toya is a sweetie. It's so dumb seeing he doing that, but he ALWAYS will ask if you're ok with any kind of physical touch. If he wants to only slightly hold your pinkie he will ask. He will never ever touch you without your permission, he wants you to be comfortable around him (plus if you give him the white flag, he will touch you in the gentlest manner. He's a gentleman)

— If a friend comes to hug you, he will always put a hand in front of the friend and explain to them that you're not comfortable with that. If you're ok with hugging at the moment, you'd just tell them, because Toya will never be stopped from speaking up for you.

— When he discovers that you actually love physical touch, he will be a bit confused, but will definitely give you the warmest hugs and forehead kisses 24/7! (Plus, his favourite kind of touch is cuddling, if you see him just lying down, go on his chest and see what happens. You got your boyfriend flustered with the biggest and warmest smile!!)

— He would hold your hand on big crowds, if it's too many people, he would hold your waist.

— When he has his lives with VBS, he will always bring you and give you forehead kisses before and after. || "Y/N: Congrats Toya! You did so well!!" You give him a tight and warm hug. You could feel that he was shaking and his cheeks were going warm... how cute! ||

——————————————————————

— Ok so, let me understand... — Toya puts a hand on his chin — You like physical touch from some people and dislike from other specific people? But you actually enjoy physical touch with me, is that correct?

You nod your head as you speak

— I was actually afraid of telling you that and regretting in the future, ending up feeling uncomfortable with your touch and maybe hurting you like pushing you away... but after a while, I realised I love your touch... — You look to the side, a bit shy admitting this

Toya laughs, patting your head and giving you a tight and warm hug. This was the first time he ever touched you without asking.

— If you anytime feel uncomfortable with my touch, let me know... anything, any situation, just tell me and I'll be there for you.

And after all, you lay down on Toya's chest and enjoys his warm and big embrace. You two keep snuggling and casually speaking to each other, until you fall asleep. You feel so safe and comfortable around him... What a lovely boyfriend you have...

A/N: UGHHH i hate toya so much I hope he explodes (no I love him) uhfjsjfjsjd so cute, thank you for your request though!! I had a fun time writing it :3

[gemstone-roses]

Giles X reader

Me and @my-head-is-an-animal were talking and agreed what needed to be done about the lack of fics for Giles. So here we are.

Thankyou so much @my-head-is-an-animal for reading this over and giving me some fab advice!

Summary: Giles helps you through an anxiety attack.

Word count: 1k ish.

Warnings: contains descriptions of an anxiety attack, loneliness, vague mentions of how people and life can be unkind sometimes. Heavy hurt comfort vibes I can't stop thinking about being comforted by this man okay.

A:N- everyone experiences anxiety differently and this fic will reflect my experiences, but I hope this brings comfort to anyone reading this, as it did for me when writing it. As always 18+ only thankyou! This took SO long to write so please be nice and kind thanku 😊.

Giles knew immediately he liked you. There was something about you, something, endearing.

You walked in one evening after seeing the assistant required poster on the town noticeboard and when Giles had asked what qualifications you had you responded simply and almost nervously, 'I love books'.

He'd held out his hand and chuckled 'your hired'.

You'd become fast friends with the British librarian ever since. Helping him get books for his students… and the buffy gang, you soon became familiar with the layout of the library.

You spent your evenings curled up in the chair, books piled lazily on the floor, and before long you didn't even need to hesitate to remember the shelf when giles or willow asked for a specific book.

You stayed late most nights, Giles would turn off the main lights and make you a cup of tea while you read and he researched. He looked adorable with his glasses hanging out his mouth when he was thinking .He'd hand you the steaming mug, saucer too, because he's Giles, with a smile each time.

It's been a busy week, every night you've stayed late with giles and buffy and co to help deal with some demon or other.

Finally, the demon was dealt with and buffy and everyone left to have some sort of socialising after a night of battling. You just want to curl up with a book, you've felt off all day and nothing has quite snuffed out that feeling. Usually when you felt like this you'd curl up under the thickest blankets you could find in your place and you'd fiddle with the chain on your neck.

It was a simple piece of jewellery, the small circle hanging in the middle of the chain contained your favourite quote from one of your favourite books in tiny writing. It brought you comfort whenever your hands reached for it. The words brought you comfort.

You'd always found more comfort and affection in books than in people. In the past, life or rather, some people in it, had not been kind to you.

And when that happened, you found your escape in books.

"Tea?" Giles asks, sighing, sending a small smile your way.

"Mm no thanks" you shook your head. You shivered slightly.

"Are you alright?" Giles asks, eyebrows raised, you never turn down a cup of tea from him, it worried him slightly, but he pressed on.

"Mm, just tired" you assured him with a small smile.

Giles is unconvinced.

"Right" he says, and he does that little nod that he does when he's not really paying attention when he's researching and someone talks to him, except this time he is paying attention.

"I'll just put these books back and then I'll get off for the night" you say, your not looking at him though, almost past him. standing up and gathering the books with one hand, the other hand wraps around the chain hanging round your neck, twisting it round your fingers.

"Y/n?" Giles asks, and you're far too concentrated on holding onto the pile of books in your hand you don't notice he's right in front of you.

"Giles" you say, finally looking up at him, your sure that his piercing but concerned gaze can see right through you, right through to your heart hammering in your chest.

Giles takes the books out of your hand gently and places them on top of the shelf.

His hand comes back and lingers on your arm.

"What's the matter?" And he asks so softly you think you might break down then.

Your hand goes back to fiddle with the chain around your neck, it's the only thing you know for a fact brings you even an ounce of comfort ,but Giles reaches for your hand instead, pulling it away, he closes his hand, which is much bigger than yours, around it.

It's a gesture your unfamiliar with.

"I- I'm fine" you whisper

Giles frowns, his hand still holding yours.

"It's alright" he whispers, and the hand that's on your arm squeezes

You close your eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"Hey look at me" Giles says softly.

"m sorry, I don't, i cant- " you go dizzy, your breathing becomes faster, your head spins.

"Breathe,y/n" Giles says. His tone is laced with concern as he looks at you, your chest heaves as he moves his hand to your chin.

"Y/n, i got you" he says softly, his hand swipes at a tear running down your cheek.

"No" you whisper, and Giles frowns again but this time its because he can see you're not used to this kind of… affection, of this kind of.. comfort. And Giles feels a sudden pang of sadness at that,and then an overwhelming urge to make sure you never feel so alone again.

"Come here" he whispers, pulling you into his tight embrace.

You wrap your arms around him like your clinging to a life raft.

"There you go, I got you love" he comforts.

Giles holds you until you've stopped shaking.

"What can I do?" He asks after a moment, still not letting you go.

"im cold" you whisper,

"and tired" you added.

"Come on" he says, ushering you over to the couch in his little office.

Giles shrugs off his jacket and places it over you, when he's satisfied your sufficiently tucked in with his jacket, he sits in the corner of the couch, pulling you close to him.

you bring your knees up to your chest as you curl into him.

His fingers move slowly up and down your arm, comforting. Safe.

"Giles?" You whisper, and he stops and moves slightly.

"Hmm?" He says

"Thankyou" you say softly, and you wrap your arm around his waist and drift off in his embrace.

[yellowocaballero]

At this point you've written at least four different roleswap AUs, so I was wondering if you had any thoughts or takes about how a roleswap AU should be? - someone who's planning on making a roleswap AU

Please don't remind me. I'm embarrassed about this. I know I need to write other things. I don't know why the AU concept is so incredibly fun to write. I can't explain it. Roleswaps are very easy to write and a lot of fun and involve being a freak about everything. Who wouldn't write 10 of those bitches.

But yes, as someone whose roleswap AUs are like 9 out of her 51 fics, I feel qualified to talk about this. These are just my own opinions and takes, and other people might do it differently - if you write roleswaps too, feel free to add in your two cents!!

Before sitting down to write literally anything I always figure out the rules of the story. Writing is little more than a nonstop series of decisions, and if you abide by the rules of your story or characters then your decisions will be coherent and cohesive. By rules I don't mean worldbuilding - I mean the internal logic of the story and the characters. "X character will never explicitly say how he's feeling" or "the leads have to both win and lose every encounter".

I find establishing writing rules for roleswaps especially important - it's figuring out exactly how the roleswap works. Here are the ones that I find important, and kind of the process:

Decide what is swapped. Is it more of a universal swap, personality swap, backstory swap, chronology swap, or alignment swap? No matter which one you choose, all of these things are probably going to change anyway, but there has to be one central point for each character that guides your decisions. Are you actually swapping the narrative role in the story, or are you just changing it? You have to be really precise and have a very good idea of what exactly is swapped, and it has to be consistent throughout the story. It can't just (just) work on what you'd like to see, it has to be exactly the same between characters.

Decide the point of divergence. Sometimes that point is pretty abstract (She's a teenager in the 90s instead of the 20s). Sometimes it's much more specific, just one moment (He developed his superpowers at this moment instead of that). The point doesn't have to be immediately obvious, but you should know it - I did a backstory swap ages ago, and it seemed like a complete change, but like 150k in I dropped that a character dropped out of the police academy instead of completing it and that her entire life changed from there. If the swap is more abstract, then maybe it's just a series of smaller decisions - character A has these seminal points in his story, and I'm swapping him with character B, so here's what character B did during these seminal points instead, and how it changed him and his narrative.

Decide who the character is. This might be more personal, but for me, I think of the character as...there is a central tenet of them, of who they are as a person, that does not change no matter what. That's three or four traits of who they are, that you will not change, and that's what makes their swapped life their own instead of the OG dude's. But there's a lot of traits and behaviors around that core personality that's the result of their environment, backstory, and experiences. That's what should change. It's about figuring out how these essential traits + what is swapped + the point of divergence = an entirely different character and story. The roleswap you'll end up with will be a combination of all of these things: how the essential aspects of a character mix with what's swapped to create an entirely new environment and set of behaviors, which cause a chain reaction to create something new. As a writer, you sit down and say, "I'm keeping these parts of the character, I'm swapping out those parts, this new mix changes these points in their backstory, this results in this new person".

This is more of a guideline, but it's the most important to me: your characters have to be recognizable as the character. The reader shouldn't go, "this OC is making some weird choices". The reader should go, "I don't know how, because he's the exact opposite of his canon self in every possible way, but somehow he still feels like my favorite character". This is why you isolate those basic traits before changing the rest - so long as your character is still who they are deep inside, then they still feel like that character. And that's the fun of the story. You're selling something insane, and the reader is buying it.

It's a lot of really heavy character work. You have to really understand the characters you're writing - the less I get the original character, the more issues I'm perpetually having. I tend to fly fast and loose with characterizations, but when writing roleswaps I have to refer back to canon and the source material a lot ("In canon he did X thing, with his newly different backstory how would that decision change?"). The more you're rooted in canon, then the funkier and more divergent you can get.

Personally, I like to play a fun little game I call: how exactly opposite can I make this character until he stops feeling like this character? I Sometimes my goal in writing is "how deeply can I ruin this story". This is not a good game and people should not play it. I find that the lazier I get about getting in touch with the canon character, about keeping track of the canon decisions, and about following these guidelines, then the more difficult a story is to write. If you structure a story well then it's easy to write, and roleswaps are pretty easy. Thanks for the question!

[harmonysanreads]

following up on the tag question, any suggestions on how to tag?? GIRL IM STILL CONFUSED ASF 😭

Hmm... I found one very detailed post explaining the general concept of tags if you'd like to check out. I'll share some things I learned from my experience here :>

I recognized that my works have been tagged in my own pattern thus far and I'm sure all blogs also have a pattern of their own. You'll figure it out as you keep tagging, don't worry. If we're talking about reader-insert fanfics, then it's appropriate to tag it like : [insert character] x reader or, [insert character] x you. If you're making your fic gender specific, then it's also recommended to add that in the first tag example (if you haven't already stated it at the beginning of your post, but still adding that in the tags is most advised). Make sure these tags are at the top.

You can also tag your post with what kind of writing it is e.g. hcs, imagines, concepts, drabbles, interactions, au. If your work contains sensitive content, then you can state that in the tags with tw/cw. [for example, tw: blood] No need to censor the warning again by using alternative letters [bl00d], that doesn't work. It takes some time for new posts to appear in the tags, so don't panic if you don't see it there, wait and if you see that it's still not appearing after quite some time, then you can contact Tumblr. (Happened to me twice, one time they responded and fixed it and another I had to repost 💀)

[pacifymebby]

How do you help yourself when you get anxious? X

I have a few different things I try depending on whether it's anxiety I understand or vague anxiety. If it's vague stuff then I have like comfort clothes/items, always wear my comfies and like a jumper or big shirt that I can tuck my hands up the sleeves of and like wrap around myself like a blanket.

I use lavender essential oils too, can really help to relieve tension, I have a lavender Chapstick as well that is great (it's Nivea and it's like £4 in boots, would recommend!!)

If you have a day off and you can just be cosy in bed, or cosy on sofa with a blanket then taking s self care day to just play video games or read a book can be really helpful!!! It's basically what I'm doing today because I'm over tired and a bit sad/anxious feeling.

I go back to comfort fics on here all the time haha.

Also talking to people about it!!!! My inbox is always open if you ever just need to vent or ask for advice, but also if you have friends or family you can talk to about your feelings then please do!!! Sometimes a phonecall with my bestie is all I need to settle my fears and get reassurance. Or a big hug off someone too!!

If it's anxiety about a specific thing/things then

🪻 write a list of all the things making you anxious, how many of them have physical steps you can take to progress the situation? By this I mean, is there an email you have to send, are you anxious because you haven't messaged someone back and you need to, is it a life admin task that needs to be done, laundry, groceries etc...

🪻next to each task list the steps that need to be taken to stop you feeling anxious about the things...

🪻be gentle with yourself but try and start with the easiest step, slowly do the steps and cross them off your list. Sometimes this is the only thing to be done. I often ask myself what will happen if I do this Vs don't do this, if I do it, I am short term anxious about doing the thing but then the thing is done and it's either a different worry or the worry is gone. If I don't do it I have to stagnate with my current deeply unpleasant anxious feeling and things may get worse. So ultimately doing the thing is the better choice.

If it's anxiety about social situations you can try this thing my friend taught me.

🪻write down the situation you are worried about, then write down what you're anxious about happening. I.e going to the coffee shop on my own, I am worried people will think I'm weird for being out alone or that someone will be unpleasant to me and I will get judged.

🪻then you have to try and reason with yourself, what is most likely to happen... In this situation the answer is that you'd go to the coffee shop by yourself, buy your coffee from the cashier and find yourself a place to sit .. then you could read your book or go on your phone and drink your drink etc, probably no one will talk to you, probably everyone will also be wrapped up in their own thing and be too busy to judge you, probably you will see many other people at the coffee shop on your own.

🪻then you have to go do the thing, like go to the coffee shop and have the experience. It's so so likely you're going to have a normal time at the coffee shop and then when this happens you go home and you reflect on it and you reiterate to yourself like yes, none of the things I was anxious about happened, I had my coffee and it was a nice mundane experience.

🪻I think it's basically CBT? You're slowly teaching yourself that your anxiety brain is coming up with unlikely scenarios and that actually reality is far more mundane and you are capable of going out and doing things and having normal situations.

It's really daunting to try and do it though, it's hard to get confident enough at these sorts of skills but practice makes perfect.

Sometimes grounding exercises can be really good too, if your head is spinning out of control with racing anxiety then trying this can be really helpful

[cenviswasteland]

For the fanfiction writing ask: 10, 18, 20 and 22 please. Also sorry for encountering the fandom loon in these parts, hope that doesn't sour your tumblr experience.

hey!! thanks so much for the ask :D let's talk!

[Re: "The Fandom Loon". to anyone that comes across this post after the fact, i recently got bombarded with spam asks from one particular person. feel free to follow this specific link if you'd like to experience the whole story hahaha. also no, my tumblr experience isn't soured in the slightest. i found it all pretty funny at the time.]

10. Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time?

it tends to come in waves for me. i'll get the idea for one (1) fic, which adds itself to the pile of "things i'm writing". i'll work on one fic as inspiration hits, forget about it for an extended period of time, and then pick it back up again. this happens for every single fic i'm working on, as well as all my original pieces.

it's not an ideal way to operate, since it slows down my process severely, but eventually my AO3 will be populated by a whole bunch of really, really good work. i hope. right now it's a baren wasteland. oops. i promise i'll have some good fic content coming soon! i just have to get back into the swing of writing characters that are not my own.

18. Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

oh, i LOVE doing research. it's probably my favorite part of the process. for example:

sorry, i know it's a little hard to see, but this is a FULL rack of tabs that i was using for my writing at one point. it's all direct research pages, note-taking google docs, etc etc. my wife (love her to pieces) eventually told me "that's going to destroy your computer" and made me bookmark and close like 90% of them, though. they live on, though! hahaha.

generally speaking, any AU fic is gonna require a little extra research. i really want to do "it" right if that makes sense. so that's looking up common tropes for the AU, background history / knowledge if needed, looking at other fics that have the same AU, etc etc. i'm not a super published fic author (sorry), but Promise it to me. took a lot of external research to get the terminology and speech right.

20. Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

if we're talking in terms of "traditional AUs" (coffee shop, flower shop x tattoo parlor, college, fantasy, rockstar etc), i actually don't write a lot of them. i was working on a flower / tattoo fic at some point with a buddy, but that was between our OCs and it kind of flickered out. i'm kind of unpracticed when it comes to AU fics.

but more broadly, every fic i write is an AU or canon divergence in some way. such is the way of fanfiction. but i tend to stick closer to canon than i do to AUs. that's not to say that i don't love me an AU fic, but they tend to take a little more time (see above) and they don't go down as smooth for me. maybe that'll change with more practice. who knows? :D

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

at the end of the day, i'm a song-lyric-title guy through and through. when i get a song in my head, it actually really helps me figure out where i'm going with a piece. so that's where most of my titles come from.

before i get to that point, though, i'll usually make my title a keysmash or some basic descriptor. sometimes i tag the piece with a temporary name or something else basic:

and it's actually pretty rare for me to pull out a full, original title. not impossible! but very, very rare.

in general, if i'm not actively stealing a song lyric, the title will just be some description of what the piece actually is. i'm not a very creative guy when it comes to titles, haha.

===+++===

thanks again for the ask! again, i'm really happy i get to talk about my work and writing in general. if anybody else wants to send in an ask or two, you can find the prompt list here!

peace love and little donuts! have a nice day :D

[tickle-bugs]

Hi! Do you have any advice for those who want to start writing?

Yes! So honored you asked. I'll put it below the cut. Other writers, feel free to chime in!

(Gearing this specifically towards tickle fics because, well, *gestures around*)

- Mentioned it a whole bunch in my other advice post but it really is a big deal: Write for yourself. I cannot stress it enough. Whatever you like to write, make sure you're having fun and you're writing what you like.

- Find your style! There is no krabby patty formula for The Ideal Style. Everyone has different preferences. Your preferences matter most! If you like all caps laughter dialogue? Great! No laughter dialogue at all? Cool! Reader fics? Nice! First person fics? Sick (pos)! Most people emulate the things that they like to read in their writing and I think that's a great place to start! I like 3rd person POV with an internal monologue and that's what I stick to, pretty much.

- Follow your inspirations. Okay so this one, yes, but be careful. If you like someone's writing or style, there's nothing wrong with emulating it/borrowing bits. That's how I learned to draw, actually (and how most artists learn their craft). If you like a certain author and they do something you like, try it out for yourself! I personally am not a fan of laughter dialogue, so I looked to the amazing writers around me to see how they describe laughs/sensation. It's a great way to learn, because your voice and style will filter through. What this doesn't mean, though, is plagiarizing. Not to sound like a school teacher but if it ain't yours, don't use it.

- Your style will change. Embrace it. I have improved so much since my first fics, and I did that by embracing change. Changing things up is good, actually, and it helps keep things fresh for you! Take a risk, switch something up, etc. It'll help avoid feeling like your fics are stale.

- Writing is practice. The only way you can possibly learn is by doing it. Whether or not you have a blog, just get writing! Try things out! Pick a pairing/group/character and experiment. That's how I started my blog in the first place. I posted a few FinnPoe experiments that I had and decided that I liked it here. Practice, practice, practice, my loves. Don't crunch or make yourself miserable.

- (re: write for yourself, writing is practice) if you find yourself writing fics for the sake of writing/attention, not because you enjoy it, then step back. I had...trauma relating to creating any sort of fandom content because of this. Not everything is gonna be sunshine and roses (talked about in the next point), but if you feel miserable, it's okay to take a break. I don't want to lean too heavily on this, but if you'd like to read more on it, this post about covers it.

- You don't have to like everything you make, okay? You really don't. Don't let anyone tell you that you do. Not every fic is gonna be the Mona Lisa, either. I have many a fic that I've made that I loathe--some posted, some not. Sometimes you run out of steam, sometimes the idea doesn't blossom how you want, sometimes you just fall out of love with a fic. That's okay and normal. Just try to learn from the creative experience for your next go around.

- Taking prompts is hard. Don't hurt yourself. This...is one I need to get better at. If you're looking to run a blog and take prompts (which you don't have to do, btw), that's so cool and funky fresh of you, but do so with your health in mind. Please. If you get a prompt for something you don't like/are uncomfortable with, you don't have to write it. If you are creating content, you have no obligation to create anything that makes you uncomfortable.

If you wanna take prompts, take a number you can handle and the ones that inspire you most. If you have to decline a prompt, that's totally fine. Start and don't finish? That's okay too. People may be disappointed, but you matter more than that disappointment. I can talk more about taking prompts in another post if anyone's interested but I'll leave it at that for now.

- (Re: writing is practice) Get going! Easier said than done, I know, but really do get going. No amount of theorizing is gonna get a fic done, just do it. Try it out. You and your writing are worthy and ever-growing. The writers you idolize are likely agonizing over a WIP or five (hey writers go write a sentence on one of your WIPs rn). Take the leap and try.

- It's okay to work on a fic little by little. I have literally 30+ fics cooking at the moment. Every once in a while I add a paragraph or two. Sometimes I get inspired and write a fic or two in one go. I've had WIPs I've been sitting on since my blog's inception (*casts a sidelong glance at the Home Again series*) and that's perfectly okay. You'll see some people churning out fics every week. If that's you, great! If that's not you, that's okay. Be gentle with yourself.

- (Re: writing is practice, get going) Headcanons and drabbles do wonders for inspiration. I do this all the time. Tell us your thoughts on a character, write something short, etc. It's a great way to dip your toes in the water. Ask for headcanon requests if you want! I have a headcanon tag and I treat it like my spice rack when I write. Not only will writing little bite-sized bits help your brain get going, you'll be able to lean on these bits for later works. Do one of those little "send me a character" ask memes! Reblog a sentence starter list and ask for submissions! Or just do them on your own! Get going.

- Submit fics if you want! My submission box is open (I only take SFW submissions at the moment) and other writers likely take them too. Send an ask/message and ask the person (me included) if it's okay to submit something, and they'll host that fic on their blog! This is ideal for anon writers who don't want to/can't run a blog. I always sing the praises of having a blog because there's nothing better than having a space that's yours, but if you're nervous, that's an excellent place to start. Make sure you follow any submission rules that person may have (and sign your work)! AO3 is an excellent avenue as well.

- EDIT: Writing is like riding a bike. It may take some time for you to get used to it/get into a groove you’re happy with. That’s okay. Take your time and soon enough you’ll be on your way. If you fall, just make sure you get back up.

If you're looking for a sign to start, this is it. I believe in you. If anyone has any more questions, feel free to ask. Anon, I hope this helps <3

Other writers feel free to add your own advice!

[meadowscarlet]

swimming pools ━━━ steve harrington.

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader.

summary: being alone in the swimming pool with steve harrington in the serene, dark night brought up intense feelings that blossomed into a steamy and passionate night.

warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, nipple play, praise kink, cursing, brief teasing, dirty talk if you squint, innocence kink, heavy making out, pet names like “baby” and “angel”, no specific timeline in st, mentions of sex, drinking and smoking.

author’s note: don’t judge me, this is my first time writing these kinds of fics and honestly it was a scary experience 😭 do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

With the exception of the moonlight reflected off the pool, the night was peaceful and tranquil and wholly empty. Teenagers were partying, drinking, making out, and swimming in the pool only a moment ago, creating a wild and amusing atmosphere that smelled of booze, smoke, and sex and setting the scene for a fierce night that went very smoothly.

Steve was currently having a euphoric high. The taste of alcohol still lingered on his tongue, reminding him of the ecstasy he had only a moment earlier, and he felt elated and fucking wasted from all the beers he had recently consumed. It had been awhile since he had great times with everything going on. He thought the crazy party was worth it, but he had a bleary feeling that the night hadn't ended yet.

When he turned around and looked, he found that you were the only person left in the area. Steve's mouth started to become dry. He remembered not letting his attention stray from you and your body while he was drinking and having a good time at the party because you were so distracting: your dress was tight, perfectly fitting to your curves as you moved your hips to the music with your friends. It would be an understatement to say that Steve was drooling at that.

You had always been the beloved and well-known pretty girl in Hawkins who was popular among the guys. There was one rumor where you were vindictive and spoiled and all the nasty shit people would throw at a girl living her teenage life but Steve knew it was all nonsense. Despite your notoriety as being popular, rich, and attractive, you were truly an actual angel and something sweet that made Steve eager to devour you. You were the one dream girl that everyone desired.

One thing he was pleased with, was that while you two were not close, you were also not complete strangers. Steve would reminisce how you'd pass by him in the school hallway with a delicate and divine grin that made him weak in the knees. Since you were always with your friends, your conversations together were short and simple. If not by your friends, Steve would observe how guys would approach you and ask you out on dates. To his greatest surprise, but mostly amusement, you never went out with any of them.

Steve had it bad, to put it mildly, with those ephemeral interactions and his eyes following you everywhere. Like everyone else, Steve Harrington was attracted to you, but he also felt a rush of feelings when your eyes, not for the first time in the night, locked with his. The night suddenly felt overbearingly dark, but when you smiled at him, fuck, he knew he was done for.

“Hi, Steve,” you giggled as you saw him openly staring at you.

Your eyes were bright and wide as you watched him. Steve knew he didn’t have to hide it anymore; so he let his gaze wandered around you, from your goddess of a face to your breathtaking body which was barely covered with the hot two piece you wore; your body completely exposed and Steve realized that it was only then you removed your cover up, when there was many people, you wore that dress and didn’t swim but now, you and him just alone, his gaze trailing every inch of you and you just let him.

You were studying him with bright, wide eyes. Steve realized he didn't need to hide it anymore, so he let his gaze observe you as it moved from your goddess-like face to your stunning body, which was barely covered by the two-piece bikini you were wearing. Steve realised that it was only then that you took off your cover-up dress; earlier, when there were many people present, you wore the dress and resisted to swim, but now, with just the two of you, he let his gaze follow every inch of you and you just let him.

Steve was going insane.

“Hey, angel,” he replied, voice husky. Then he suddenly frowned. “You’re not going home yet?” not that he wanted you to leave, it was just odd how all your friends went home and you were here.

Your eyes glinted with amusement. “You're not gonna let me join you?”

When Steve looked down, water was there to greet him. He didn't realize how long he had been in the pool until he was going on about you and staring at you. The words coming from your mouth were seductive and sweet, luring him. Before he could ponder how he managed to forget that he was actually in a pool, he instead concentrated on what you said. The night was cold and perhaps you could provide him some warmth.

After feeling a desire emerge within him, Steve didn't hesitate. “C’mere then,”

As you approached him, you sat on the edge of the pool and dipped your flawlessly gorgeous legs into the water rather than joining him in the pool as he had anticipated. Steve approached you when you were playing in the water with your legs, swimming so close that his chest was only an inch over your knees and he looked hypnotized. His pulse began to race as soon as he heard you take a tense breath since this was the closest he had ever been near you and you smelt like something he never wanted to forget.

“I thought you’re gonna join me,” Steve said almost breathlessly.

“Is it deep?”

“Wait, what?“

You laughed shakily. “The water. Is it deep?”

Steve placed a wet hand on your leg without thinking about it, and he nearly groaned as he felt you shiver, either from the water or his hand, but your chest was rising quickly, which can be very distracting.

“No, no, it’s not deep,” he responded, trailing his fingers along your legs, and you shuddered even more. Steve could see how your eyes were clouded by a phantom of want and he has no doubt his eyes darkened it too. “Enjoyed the party, did we, angel?”

When Steve's fingertips traced the insides of your thighs, you whimpered quietly, but your response was breathy and heavenly. “Kinda… my friends ditched me for their boyfriends.”

“People who would ditch you are out of their minds,” Steve muttered. “I can’t even imagine doing that.”

“Well, it’s just us,” you said quietly.

“Us,” Steve said, tasting the word in his mouth and it felt good saying it. “What do you think your friends and their boyfriends are doing now?”

You suddenly looked bashful; god you were adorable. “Having their own… fun.”

“And you’re not?” Steve murmured, now fiddling with the straps of your bikini underwear. “Seems unfair, doesn’t it, angel?”

You stuttered, “S–steve,”

“You like that, yeah?” Steve fought the impulse to totally grasp you and bring you close to him in the water. “Calling you angel?”

“I do,” you gasped.

“Well, what about, baby?” Steve’s eyes darkened with lust once he saw how you clamped your thighs together.

“God, Steve,” you breathed, Steve could practically hear your heart racing, mirroring his own.

Steve has both of his hands on your supple thighs at this point. “I haven’t even touched you properly, baby,” he whispered, he adored the way you shuddered with the name he called you. “A fun you deserve.”

You’re breathing hard now. “Then touch me, Steve.”

“Are you sure?”

You only nodded.

“Words, angel.” he whispered.

“Yes.” you replied breathlessly and that was all it took for Steve to finally taste you.

He kisses your lips hungrily, and his cock hardens hearing your muffled moan in his mouth. This was it; your taste was more divine than anything else, your lips were soft, and you fulfilled all of his fantasies. Your lower lip was bit by his teeth as he enjoyed how your chest crushed against his, sending both of your hearts racing.

Steve wanted to taste your lips more but your neck was beckoning for him so he moved to kiss your neck, placing his hands on your waist, pulling you to him as you automatically wrapped your legs around his waist. His tongue was licking your earlobe, whispering praises and assurances in your ear while you grow suddenly needy, moving against him, pressing your body impossibly closer together.

You clenched your teeth and whimpered softly as he bit and sucked the sweet spot on your neck. He pulled you deeper into the water, making you tighten your legs around his waist. “Steve!” you cried. “I'm wet.”

“Are you really?” he teased and suddenly his hand was cupping your clothed pussy, trailing his fingers on the clothed slit, his eyes never left your closed eyes and your pretty face.

“God, Steve,” you moaned, wanting him to end his teasing already.

“God’s not here, baby,” When his fingers finally made it to your clit, Steve sighed, pushing your bikini underwear down onto your thighs while still his finger trailed the slit, loving the way you moaned heavenly. “It’s just you and me, remember?”

“Have you ever done this?” he then asked as he paused before inserting a finger into your cunt.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, holding onto him tightly. “Not t—to anyone.”

“So, this hasn't been touched yet?” Steve groaned and swirled his finger deeper into your clit. You began to follow the insert of his finger and grind against it.

You moaned as he inserted another finger. “I have,”

Steve gave you a vociferous kiss on the neck and throat, leaving lovebites on your immaculate skin as the moonlight shone on you, leaving him speechless at your beauty. “Fuck, baby,” he said breathlessly. “I’m the first and I will be the last.”

Steve didn't even realize as his other hand, which wasn't inside you, moved to your back to untie your bra, which promptly fell into the water and left you now bare before him. Fuck, you were so exquisite. You grinded on his fingers in desperation, whimpering when he added a third one, and his back was scratched by your nails.

His lips moved to kiss your chest right away, then he licked his way to your right nipple; sucking and licking before doing the same with your left nipple. He was having a wonderful time with you as his fingers worked inside of you, and he was loving the way you were clenching against him.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Steve said, gently biting your nipple as his pace with his fingers inside your pussy was moving quick. “So good baby… you feel so good.”

As your climax approached, Steve paced his finger in and out of your pussy while you began to whine from your lovely lips, that tasted incredibly wonderful. Steve imagined how his dick would be instead of his fingers inside you, imagining it made him scorchingly desire you, but this isn't about pleasing him; it's about you, and he wasn't going to rush you. He felt like he was on cloud nine as he felt you tighten and clench all around his finger, urging you to come with just his fingers.

As soon as you came on his fingers, you shuddered, but the moan you let out was smothered when Steve gave you a full mouth kiss while his other finger pinched and stroked your nipples. You pulled him in closer with your arms around his neck and a passionate kiss that ignited your combined passion.

Steve slightly pivoted and gave you a look that was filled with admiration as he kissed you again on the forehead, the nose, and then the lips then moved the stray wet hairs away from your face. “Did you have fun, angel?” he whispered against your lips.

You responded, panting and beaming, “I did,” and when you added, “Only with I'm with you,” Steve's heart flipped.

[thatredheadwriter]

Phthalo Blue

frankie morales x neurodivergent!reader

Frankie comes home to find you overstimulated and he knows just how to help.

This was supposed to be a drabble, but it’s just over 2.3k words. I’m in my feels and very overstimulated and would like it very much if a big strong sexy man wanted to come and take care of me for just a little bit. A lot of this is written around my own experience as a neurodivergent person, so obviously everyone won’t relate, and I also express a lot of the reader’s frustration at getting overstimulated, as that’s something I personally deal with. I’m also marking this as female!reader because of the singular gendered spanish noun and the fact that I wrote this with female!reader in mind, but it’s fairly gender neutral overall.

This is a SFW oneshot for neurodivergent!female!reader with Frankie Morales of Triple Frontier. This work does not contain smut, however, it may contain mature language or themes, and as a rule, my blog is only for those over the age of 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.

Content Includes (but is not limited to):

Neurodivergent reader

Female reader

Domestic Frankie

Mentions of Frankie's daughter from another relationship (but she's not in this one)

They have a meet-cute, I might write more about these two

Swearing

Vivid descriptions of feeling overstimulated

Reader has hair, no specific description

Possible allusion to Frankie’s own mental health issues (very mild)

Reader feels guilty for needing to make accommodations

I want to insert a little disclaimer here: not all neurodivergent people experience overstimulation the same way. Also, Frankie is super helpful and supportive in this fic, because this is the kind of fic I need to read right now. A lot of neurodivergent folk prefer to be alone when overstimulated and (most importantly) we do no need anyone to fix us. If you are neurodivergent, you should not feel bad or shameful or guilty about stimming/using fidgets/making accommodations for yourself. I’m bringing up some of those feelings here, and while I feel it’s addressed in the fic, I want to explicitly reinforce that these are not bad things.

Please read at your own discretion and consume your fanfiction responsibly.

Frankie could read you like a book. It’d always been that way, as much as you used to despise it. After years of hiding irritation and overstimulation, masking your frustration with a too bright, too loud, too coarse world, it was unsettling. For once in your life, you were seen, and it made you feel like a bug under a microscope.

But as you got to know Frankie, you realized he wasn’t looking at you like some science experiment or a stressed-out shelter animal. He cared, and noticing was his way of showing that he cared. At first, it was little things at the shop, always making sure you had earplugs or headphones available, being careful to never sneak up on you. You absolutely adored the way he would lean up against the front desk and talk to you, facing the front door so there was no obligation of eye contact.

Frankie Morales wasn’t doing all those things just so he could ask you out, but when he did there was no way you'd turn him down. Especially when he'd asked you to meet him at your favorite café on Sunday morning.

Since that first date, the two of you have learned a lot about each other. Frankie learned that you love his little touches, so long as his presence is announced and he doesn’t come up on you from behind. You learned that Frankie has a tendency to shut doors with a little too much force, despite his best efforts. He hates fireworks and being on any plane that he’s not flying. You despise fluorescent lights and would rather die than touch dirty dishes that have been soaking in the sink.

When the door from the garage slams, announcing Frankie’s arrival home, you sigh. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Santi and the Millers out at some restaurant and even though you love the boys, you’d rather die. It’s been a lousy day, first waking up with a headache, then being stuck in a zoom call all morning with a guy who could not figure out how to mute himself, then spending nearly six hours hunched over one project that you were due to present tomorrow and it just wasn’t quite right.

“There you are,” Frankie finds you halfway contorted in your desk chair, face mere inches from the screen as you try to figure out why that one element of the logo doesn’t look like it should. He can tell from the eight different cups on your desk and the noise machine playing ocean sounds in the corner that you were in a mood. Rain was for work, thunderstorms for relaxing and reading, and ocean sounds for when you were really worked up.

“Hey,” you mumbled halfheartedly, eyes tracing the cursor across the screen, It wasn’t untl Frankie moved into your line of sight, patiently taking a seat in the armchair by your desk, that you really acknowledged him. “Sorry, I’ll be finished in just a minute.” You shot him an apologetic glance, knowing he’d had a long day too.

“It’s alright,” he soothes, knowing you feel guilty anytime you feel like you're distracted from him. “I’ll be right here when you’re finished.”

He’s patient. Thirty minutes later you finally double check that the project saved and close the tab, leaning back in your char with a groan.

“That bad?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “How do you know I’ve had a bad day?”

He laughs, “Your knee hasn’t stopped bouncing since I got here, you have four different fidgets out on your desk, there are eight cups in here, your hair looks like you’ve stuck your finger in a socket, and you’re playing the ocean sounds. I can tell.” The last words he follows with a soft smile.

You just stare at him, in awe of the way this man knows you. The feeling slightly eases the hot prickle at the back of your mind and for the first time all day, it’s like you can take a deep breath again.

“What time do we need to leave?” you ask, stretching your arms above your head in a way that makes you feel like an overgrown housecat. You’re still not looking forward to going out, but it no longer seems like an unbearable task. As long as Frankie’s with you.

“I already texted the guys and told them we’re a rain check for tonight,” he held up his phone like you're going to ask for the evidence.

“When’d you do that?”

“While you were finishing your thing. I know you’re wound up and the last thing you need is to go to the grand opening of yet another business Pope has invested in.”

At a loss for words, you find yourself scrambling into his lap, his musky scent grounding you further as you try o show him how much you appreciate his understanding. But your eyes snap up to his when the chair creaks under the two of you.

“Let’s get some dinner, okay?”

You leave Frankie upstairs to get changed. In the kitchen, you find he’s already loaded the dishwasher, a chore you’d been hoping to do at lunch but didn’t, and took out the trash. At a loss for what to fix, you pad into the living room and turn on the TV, wincing when the volume is slightly too loud.

Nothing seems to scratch the itch in your brain. You want to watch something, but you’re not sure what. Everything just feels wrong. Just like dinner, you can’t decide and you can feel that prickly sensation growing again now that you’re away from Frankie and his overwhelming amount of common sense. He was great at pointing out things that should be obvious, and yet he never made you feel like an idiot for missing them.

Just as you’re beginning to sink into despair over trying to pick a fucking tv show, Frankie appears, and he can see the frustration written all over your face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he pulls you into a hug, and you let him, nuzzling into his old t-shirt and breathing him in.

“It’s just a lot right now,” you mumble.

“I know. Come help me fix dinner and then we can find something.”

“ ‘kay”

You’re not so much helping in the kitchen as you are observing, but neither of you minds much. Frankie is a whiz in the kitchen, and it soothes you a little to watch him in his element. As he works, gathering ingredients and chopping things, he tells you about his day. Joseph took left the garage for four different phone calls from his girlfriend, the new receptionist has terrible breath, but at least she knows how to answer the phone unlike the guy Grant hired after you left. Something about a new timeclock system makes you giggle, Frankie’s an old soul and he’s never been a big fan of computers or anything considered remotely new technology.

Eventually he has you in stitches, halfway laid across the kitchen island as you try to catch your breath as your chest heaves with laughter.

“I’m not fucking kidding, the new parts system is evil,” he points the wooden spoon in his hand at you and even though his words are serious there’s a grin tugging the corners of his mouth.

It’s not long before he’s plating up a dish, something with rice and vegetables and chicken that smells so damn good and tastes even better, a fact you make known to him.

“Always happy to cook for you, querida.”

Once you’ve had your fill, he sets your plate in the sink “for tomorrow” he mumbles into the top of your head as he steers you into the living room.

“Do you have anything in mind?” he asks, nodding to the TV, but you’ve already picked up your tablet and opened it to a magazine article you’d been reading.

“Your team is playing, Frankie,” you settle into his side and adjust the screen brightness. “Watch your game. I already made you stay home tonight.”

He’s quick to correct you, “You didn’t make me do anything. We stayed in tonight and I for one, am loving it.”

You just roll your eyes at him and pull your favorite blanket over your lap.

Your eyes flit to the TV for the second time in ten minutes. Eleven minutes left to go in the fourth quarter and the other team had just called a timeout.

In retrospect, you knew this would happen. Something about live sports was always a little too much, even if you weren’t really watching. Usually it was something you could bear, you’d distract yourself with work or a book or noise-canceling headphones. But after the day you’ve had, your ability to regulate is shot.

You got all the way to the first half before you moved to the other end of the couch. Everything was touching you, Frankie, his clothes, your clothes, the blanket, your hair; it was all too much. You needed some relief. Now you were cold, and alone, but slightly less irate.

By the end of the third quarter you’re hyperaware of the tightness in your jaw and the fact that you’ve had to reread the same page seven times and you still haven’t understood a single word of it. Everytime a commercial comes on it’s an internal battle not to flinch, the volume seeming so much louder than the game itself. The TV is too bright and so are the lamps and god your head hurts. But Frankie’s been so sweet and accommodating all evening. You feel like the least you can do is let him watch one damn game.

“You okay, pup?” Frankie squeezes your ankle and draws you out of your spiraling thoughts. His eyes are full of concern and you notice you’ve been rocking your knee for who knows how long.

“I’m fine,” you shake your head and smile unconvincingly, the prickly feeling taking over your whole body now, “I’m going to go get ready for bed. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Frankie isn’t convinced, you can tell by the way is brow stays tightly knit and you can practically hear the protest on his lips, but before he can say anything you’re up and pecking him on the lips before bounding up the stairs.

For a moment you debate just showering, before deciding that bombarding yourself with water is probably not the best idea. Instead you splash some water on your face, brush your teeth with your favorite toothpaste–designated as such for its mild flavor–and slip on a sleep shirt instead of your yoga pants and tank top.

As you walk back down the stairs you brace yourself for the sound of football, but it doesn’t come. Rather, as you round the corner, you hear a familiar voice and a faint tapping sound.

You nearly start crying when you realize Frankie has flipped it over to Bob Ross, a soft smirk on his face.

“Did you think I didn’t notice?” he almost whispered, eyebrow quirking.

“I was hoping you hadn’t,” you murmured honestly, stumbling towards the couch and collapsing into him. For as long as you could remember, Bob Ross was better than any sedative at calming your mind and bringing down the noise of life. You’d shared that fact with Frankie when he caught you watching it in your car one day during your lunch break after a particularly stressful interaction with an rude customer.

“Did you think I would get mad or something?” you can hear the hurt in his voice and it makes your chest ache.

“No, Fish,” you settle into his side, “I just feel like you accommodate me all the time. And you should be able to watch a football game in your own home.”

He rumbles in understanding, “But it’s your home too, pup. Hell, you're the one who painted Sofia's room. And our room. And you put together the furniture, and-”

“I know, I know," you cut him off before he can start a proper list.

"I don't want you to hide stuff from me."

He's right, but you're tired. “Let’s just watch some Bob Ross and we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?"

"Tomorrow."

You nod into his belly and sigh into the darkness, noticing he’s turned off the lamps too. And that’s how you stay for a while, for at least two Bob Rosses, until the tension has melted from your body and you’re contentedly limp against Frankie.

As the credits roll for the second episode, you sit up with a yawn and find yourself stifling a laugh. Frankie has fallen asleep with his mouth open, and it’s a sight that melts your heart. A year and a half ago if someone told you that you’d be living with the cute, scruffy mechanic from work and forcing yourself to wake him up for the sake of his lower back, you would have called them crazy.

But you kiss him awake, something even a grumpy Frankie enjoys, and pull him off the couch and up the stairs. The day is over and now you get to spend the next eight hours with the person who knows you best, and you know that no matter what life throws at you, Frankie’ll be there at the end of the day to turn on Bob Ross and remind you that home is never far away.

[thera-daydreams]

PLUS ONE

》 A TRESE TWOSHOT 《

[Maliksi x Reader]

📝 Summary: In which your beloved best friend snatches you from your apartment at dawn asking you to be his plus one for his cousin's wedding. Unbeknownst to the clueless you, everything is just going according to Maliksi's ultimate masterplan. With the help of friends and family, the Prince of the Tikbalang finally gets the girl he's been longing for. And oh, Señor Armanaz gets his dream daughter-in-law and the promise of grandchildren within the year.

📌 Warning: May contain some slight NSFW for spicy suggestiveness and cussing. No smut or anything super SPG—this girl can't write that for her life—but just be prepared. It's Maliksi we're talking about. We've got friends-to-lovers, obliviousness, pining, fluff, and a tikbalang simp. Figure it out. 😃

(word count: 7,454) ♥︎ Part Two: ?

》 AUTHOR'S NOTE 《

Not an Inday spinoff, but a lengthy oneshot in celebration of this blog getting 90 followers. Just ten more to 100, yay! Thank you so much for the love and support, everyone. I also promised that I'll be making this brainrot that @binibiningbabaylan and I have fangirled over a few days ago (find the original post here) when I finished the latest chapter of Inday. Here it is! 🥰

Before I forget, I was also inspired by the cute fic made by @crispybasil titled "Sunshowers" and the "Trese Boys As Things My Guy Friends Do" made by the amazing @smolla-than-a-bug (I bow down to your wonderful works in the Trese fandom). I definitely see Maliksi to be the type to go on spontaneous roadtrips and be the boyfriend to drive you around eveeeerywhere (while also driving you crazy). 🚘

There are also some songs mentioned throughout this work. You should probably listen to them while reading for the full experience. Ending was somewhat rushed but eh, I'm too exhausted and I've rewritten it too many times. Also, if someone makes some actual tikbalang smut, tag me please. Anyways, enjoy! 💕

The way it all started was hilarious. Absolutely fucking hilarious. It happened like a blur. Literally. One second, you were snoozing in your bed. The next? You had a seatbelt on in the shotgun seat of a sophisticated-looking car. Your brain didn't even get to process it yet.

"... So let me get this straight," you grumbled, still half-asleep from your sleep marathon. You just finished a hugely successful project at work yesterday, got promoted, and wanted to make up for the restless nights you spent overtime in the office. Of course you were irritated from being disturbed. You were on vacation leave for two entire weeks, originally planning to go into temporary isolation by deactivating your social media accounts and reserving a beach cabana for yourself in Batangas.

Well, turns out, you weren't going to Batangas anytime soon. All because your unreasonably spontaneous bestfriend of ten hectic years stole you from your apartment at 2AM. Was this considered kidnapping? Was this him just being more in touch with his tikbalang side, taking unsuspecting women in their sleep and leading them to their inevitable death? (He was going over the speed limit, so it was a valid thought.) Will wearing your shirt inside-out save you today? Lord, masyado ka pang pagod para mag-isip ngayon.

"Go on."

"You abducted picked me up in the middle of the night because you want me to be your plus one at your cousin's wedding in Tagaytay?"

"Yup. And technically, the venue is right on the outskirts of Cavite going to Tagaytay," he corrected you as a matter-of-factly.

"Same thing, whatever," you huffed tiredly. "Your cousin's wedding is at 6AM today. In a few hours. In four hours."

"Uh-huh."

You groaned exasperatedly, "Mal naman, eh! You didn't even let me bring anything. Could've at least given me a heads-up a few hours ago. I'm practically emptyhanded right now save for my phone! Sinungaling ka, you said this was just a normal midnight drive—not a freaking wedding!"

The Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang, son of the Great Stallion, heir to the Armanaz herd, and the Top Drag Racer of C-5 Expressway—if that was even one of his Game of Thrones-like titles—grinned as he continued driving beside you. He let you continue ranting in the passenger seat while he mulled over his ultimate masterplan that would change his entire life later on. He was a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, so all this wasn't his thing. But for you? He'll make plans, alright.

"Wala man lang akong dinalang masusuot o kahit konting makeup para maging presentable sa harapan ng buong pamilya mo," you exclaimed, in absolute despair. "Do you know how out of my league you are? Your rich-ass family might judge me—hell, your dad might see me as a hampaslupa if I show up there in my pambahay and tsinelas!"

"Psh, I'm not out of your league," Maliksi waved it off, smoothly turning a corner. "And calm down. We've known each other for a decade! My dad practically loves you as his own daughter. Heck, the entire family knows you and keeps telling me they want you adopted in already. Lolo Andres and Lola Perlita said they'd have the paperwork settled. You just need to sign them."

It would be even better (and easier) if you married into the family. To him, specifically (as if he'd let anyone else have you). God, he was already being so obvious in his advances, but you were just so damn oblivious whenever it came to romance. None of this needed to happen if you just got it through your thick skull that he was madly in love with you.

"That's not the point, idiot!" you slumped back into your seat, hopeless. "Do you think the bride and the groom will get offended? Shit, baka masumpaan ako kung magagalit sila, Mal. Mukha akong patay galing sa South Cemetery."

The long-haired tikbalang rolled his eyes, "Huwag kang mag-alala. Nothing's going to go wrong. Chill ka lang diyan. I've got everything under control, babe."

Babe. Yes, he even called you babe but you thought it was him being a himbo and a massive flirt. Now, it was his common term of endearment for you, but you still assumed it was him just being irksome to you and that you couldn't stop the man from saying it anymore. Thus, you let it be (the most obvious hint of his attraction to you, bestie).

"... Ugh, why didn't you ask Hannah or Amie to go with you?"

He just smiled knowingly, shrugging and making up an excuse, "Nagmamadali ako, eh. Hannah and Amie are also coming, but they already have the other tikbalang as dates."

"'Luh, ako pala ang backup choice mo?"

"Heh. Whatever you want to think."

Little did you know that you were always his first choice. Always. Even when he pursued Alexandra Trese many years ago, trying to convince himself you were just his best friend, it was always you. How did he come to that realization? Well, an international band he was a fan of released a song a couple years ago and he heard it being played in a club in BGC. The song title?

It Was Always You by Maroon 5.

Needless to say, after hearing the song and being unable to get it—get you—out of his mind at night, he stopped courting Alexandra. Unfortunately for him, that time, you'd started dating other men. Therefore, he was left on the sidelines... until your latest and most painful breakup, at least. That was five years ago. You still hadn't dated anyone since then, kind of traumatized from getting into another failed relationship like that.

In the present day, as if the fates were playing on you two, one of your favorite artists played on the radio. A very ironic song given the situation you two were in.

Best Friend by Rex Orange County.

Maliksi knew it was a favorite of yours. He knew it by the way your eyes lit up like a star brightening the twinkling night sky. Like the sun first rising in the morning at Apolaki's command. Like the moon extending its gentle rays from the magic of Mayari herself. If there was anything he wanted to ask of the old gods, it was you—everything else be damned.

"I wanna be the one that makes your day, the one you think about as you lie awake," you half-sang and half-screamed happily, somewhat out-of-tune. "I can't wait to be your number oooooone! I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine—"

Maliksi glanced at you, not minding that his eardrums were probably getting microscopic ruptures from your aggressive singing. As much as he wanted to stare at you all day, he had to keep his eyes on the road. But the lyrics you were singing were wrong; the Prince of the Tikbalang was already yours from day one.

"Babe, McDo drive-through tayo for breakfast. Let me make it up to you. Gusto mo ng caramel sundae for your promotion gift? Sige. Ako bahala. Chicken nuggets din? Mabubusog ka ba niyan? I don't think they serve those this early..."

》》》

"Sandali lang!" you shouted out from inside an empty room. You'd just arrived at the venue—the Alta Veranda de Tibig in Silang, Cavite (practically the gateway to Tagaytay)—an hour or so ago. The hired makeup artist just left so that you could privately change into the outfit that had been bought specifically for you. Curse Mal and his ability to buy anything (perhaps anyone) he wanted. "Bwiset, Mal, you didn't tell me we'd be part of the damn entourage. We have to be walking the aisle in thirty minutes, simbako! You just love rushing me, don't you!?"

If only you were the one walking down the aisle today towards him.

When you exited the room, Maliksi couldn't help but let his jaw drop as he skimmed your figure, clad in the luxurious, silky satin blush midi dress he bought in one of those fancy stores in Makati yesterday. He imagined that it would look great on you, but now, seeing it on you in person... you looked divine (and frankly, he wanted to see it off your body to see what was underneath—but don't get too ahead of yourself, Mal). It was a whole 'nother level from his imagination. The deep cowl neckline and thin spaghetti straps showed your lovely collarbones... as well as a peek of your cleavage. His favorite and the best part of it all? It was backless, allowing him to gaze at the tempting curve of your spine.

He hadn't realized he had grown silent until you smiled and closed his mouth, tapping his chin.

"Lalangawin ang bibig mo, Mal," you laughed softly. Never had you seen him so speechless. You then flicked your hair back, ridiculously posing for him like you were on the cover of Vogue magazine (haba ng hair mo, gurl!). "Do I look that good? Char lang."

"... You look absolutely ravishing—I mean, uh, stunning. Hot. Yeah." That was all he could say. He mentally punched himself for not showering you with more suave compliments.

Still, your face brightened up, not knowing that the man in front of you just fell for you a thousand times harder, "Wow! Really? Damn. Ang galing talaga ng MUA na kinuha mo, ginawa akong artista. Give me their contact number later! May work event pa naman ako in two months. I'm shocked, it's like they made me rise from the dead! Even my eyebags are gone, Mal! How'd they do that?" Heck yeah, your confidence was boosted. He offered his arm to you like a gentleman, making you half-heartedly roll your eyes (you took it anyway). From holding it alone, you could tell that your best friend was a sinewy man (well, you knew that already after seeing his tikbalang form before—the little shit didn't even wear a loincloth like all his clanmates; your poor eyes were eternally scarred).

You looked him up and down. You wouldn't lie—Maliksi is and always has been an attractive man. Now? With his hair in a ponytail (pun not intended), definitely one of the hunkiest men you've ever known. "You're not looking too bad yourself, horsey."

"Ako pa!" He puffed his chest out in pride. You chuckled at his reaction.

"By the way, how do you even know my dress size and my shoe size?"

"Babe, I've known you too long. You know almost everything about me, I know everything about you."

You snorted at his confident tone, "'Di nga? You don't know every single thing about me, Mal. Assuming ka masyado."

"Alam ko nga anong cup size mo. Wala lang 'yang shoe and dress size."

You slapped his shoulder, cheeks quickly flushing red, "Huy, umayos ka! Walang hiyang tikbalang na 'to." With this guy as your best friend? You heard dirty jokes at least once a day. "Don't be inappropriate here!"

"What? It's only fair I know!" He looked down on you suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You already know I always go commando, so of course I know that your bra is a size—"

"Shhh! Baka marinig ka, 'nyeta."

"So? Let them hear. My best friend has a nice set of melons!" he shouted. You were grateful there was no one around. Hopefully.

"Oh my God..."

Your best friend chortled at how flustered you'd become. He led you to where some of his family was waiting, with a couple of his relatives already greeting you. You instantly and quite easily mingled with them, your worries of them not accepting you far from even true (they all knew how much their prince loved the innocent you).

"Kayo na talaga, pare?" one of his older tikbalang clanmates asked while you went away to be fawned over by his aunts.

Maliksi chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched you from afar, "Heh. Hindi pa."

Another one of his clanmates—a younger one—laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Talaga? That's cap, bro. You two are like a married couple already and you guys still aren't a thing?"

"Ilang taon na ba kayong magkakaibigan?" the older one asked him.

"Almost ten years," Maliksi responded, a smile unconsciously pulling his lips up as he remembered your moments together. He watched you converse with his female relatives (who adored you the moment Maliksi brought you to a family event many moons ago).

The two tikbalang snickered as they saw the look on the Great Stallion's heir.

"You're down bad," the younger one said, snapping a photo of his lovestruck kuya. "You've got it so bad for her, dudeparechong!"

"Balak mong ligawan anytime soon?" the older tikbalang inquired.

"Heh. Balak ko na ngang pakasalan. Kung pwede, ngayon."

They looked at Maliksi as if he was crazy. He was very much serious, though, even if there was a huge, lopsided smile on his face. The Prince of the Tikbalang raised a brow at them.

"What? Don't give me that look. Our ten years of being best friends is practically the courting and the dating stage already."

"Eh... you're right. Don't waste anymore time. Go and marry her today, dude. Suporta kami sa'yo, basta groomsmen kami sa kasal niyo, ha!"

"Ge. Without question."

Meanwhile, on your end with the ladies of the family, they started pestering you on your love life (like all typical Filipino aunties). Chismis everywhere.

"O, iha, single ka pa ba?"

"Kailan ka magpapakasal? Malapit ka nang pumasok sa thirties mo."

"Do you want kids? How many?"

"Are you and Maliksi a couple? You look good together! Kayo na, 'di ba?"

"Will you be getting married next? Are you engaged? When's the wedding? Invite niyo kami!"

Before you could get overwhelmed by their questions, Maliksi swept you off your feet to lead you to the entourage that was lining up outside the chapel area. Again, it happened like a blur. He laughed at the partially nauseated look on your face.

"You okay there?" he asked, grinning.

"Your family thinks we're together," you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes. You weren't sure why you felt... tingly about their statements.

He tilted his head at you curiously, gently setting you down on your feet and helping you stand.

"Do you hate the idea?" It hurt him to ask you the question, but he wanted your thoughts on it. Perhaps doing this was a bad idea. Maliksi was competitive in many things, including wanting you to be his, but if you were so opposed to it, he would never force you into something you didn't want. He let go of your hand; you didn't even notice he'd been holding it until he let go. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your wide-eyed gaze snapped back to look up at him, "No! No, it's not that! And... it's not bad." Your hand felt strangely empty now that his was gone. Biting your lip, you disclosed, "You're not making me uncomfortable, Mal. Don't ever think that."

With that, you shyly interlocked your arm with his, tearing your eyes from his to mask the growing warmth you felt spreading in your veins. You two didn't say anything else when the ushers let you walk down the beautiful, petal-covered aisle together.

The man beside you was starstruck. Hopeful. Maybe both of you did have a chance. Maybe somewhere in the depths of your soul, his feelings for you were being reciprocated. For the rest of the sacred ceremony in the gorgeous main pavilion, both of you relished in short, comfortable, and low conversations. He even cracked jokes every once in a while—really funny ones that made it challenging for you to you stifle your laughter.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Maliksi fervently prayed to Bathala that he'd experience the same opportunity he was seeing with you someday. One day.

Even while the sun was brightly out, the sky began showering down light rain onto the land. You were in awe as you looked out the window.

"Hala, totoo nga pala! Tignan mo!" you laughed, tugging Maliksi's suit sleeve, pointing at the window.

"Na ano?" he curiously inquired, not understanding what you were referring to.

"Na kapag may tikbalang na kinakasal, umuulan habang may araw pa," you replied, eyes filled with childlike mirth and wonder. A rainbow had even begun to form by the clouds. "Look, it's magical! Ang ganda pala ng view dito kasama ang old Spanish architecture. Timeless na timeless. It's so pretty, 'no? Picture tayo 'maya, Mal."

Unlike you, it wasn't the sky outside that the prince was looking at. Amidst the loud cheers for the newlywed couple and the bubbles the guests were blowing, his vision could only focus on how magnificent you looked while being amazed. You were his best view. (Ed from 90-Day Fiancé, kabahan ka na, may katapat ka sa pickup line mo.)

》》》

"Smile for the picture!"

You giggled as Maliksi was dragged into a photo-op with the bridesmaids and the important older wedding sponsors a few feet away (funnily, he looked a little constipated around them). All of a sudden, when he was heading back to your direction, you were roughly pushed into the said man's arms. When you turned around, there was nothing (except maybe a gust of wind that came out of nowhere).

"Ooh, gotcha. Careful," the tikbalang steadied you, strong hands holding your biceps. "Natapilok ka?"

"... Huh, hindi naman," you wondered suspiciously, looking around. "I think someone pushed me? Parang tinulak ako... but wala namang tao."

"Weird. Maybe it was just the wind."

It actually was. Really. Maliksi knew for a fact that it was those two taong hangin who were spying on you from the corner, trying to pair you up. He gave them a thumbs-up while your back was turned in the opposite direction. Hannah and Amie returned the thumbs-up before vanishing. Suddenly, the two wedding photographers had moved on from the bridesmaids and were right beside you.

"What a lovely couple you two are!" she praised. Before you could correct her, she held up the black contraption she held towards you two. "Pose for the camera, lovelies!"

And so you did, the photographer guiding you two on what to do. Maliksi wrapped his arm around your waist and you leaned on his side, looking sidewards to the camera with one leg cocked in front of the other. Her assistant, who was holding a polaroid camera, printed out two photos for you.

"Thank you," you told him, taking the photos from his hands then flicking them rapidly to make the images develop. You and Mal were about to walk to the reception area when the photographer stopped you, handing the male beside you a business card.

"If you two need a photographer or a videographer for your wedding, call me," she signaled to both of you before running to another guest, bringing her assistant with her.

You gawked, "Mal, did you just hear what she said?"

"Loud and clear." A grin was on his face. He seemed very pleased at what he heard.

"... How can she even tell if someone is married or not?"

Maliksi's free hand took your left hand, tapping the ring finger, "Nothing here."

"Ooooooh. I get it now." Your brows creased. "Huh. This is like the fifth time today the people here have mistaken us for a couple."

Maliksi shrugged, teasing you, "Who knows? Baka may potential tayo, babe."

Before you could ask him what he meant, he was hurriedly towing you to the reception venue. While he was doing that, you stared at the now-developed polaroid photos you were holding. Huh. Maybe you two did look like a couple.

"Come on, they're serving some snacks at the welcome reception area. Peach pie and mango float-flavored. Paborito mo, babe."

》》》

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. You were actually enjoying the event—the host was great, the food was great, the music was great. Everything was great... that was, until the games.

"Alright! Now that the bride's garter has been removed, let's have the bouquet and garter toss... starting with the females!" the host announced. "Dear bride, please stay here in front. And all single ladies—and by single I mean ready to mingle and are not married—please rise and stand here on the dance floor. Let's play matchmaker tonight, everyone!"

"Uy, single ladies daw," Maliksi nudged your side. "Sign mo na 'yan." You snorted like a pig.

"Nope, ayokong madamay sa bouquet toss," you whisper-yelled at your best friend. "Do you know how embarrassing that is?! Besides, they won't notice if I don't join! Special tactic ko 'yan sa weddings: pretending I'm not single. Katabi naman kita."

More women came to the front, making you feel assured that you didn't need to participate. The host was about to say something, when the bride interrupted to whisper something into his ear.

"Hala, halaaa! Sabi ko all single ladies, pero may isang single lady na nagtatago pa!" he announced, making you freeze. Please don't let it be you. "What's her name, beloved bride?"

"Y/N L/N." You nearly spat out your champagne. You? Did they just call out your name? How did they know?

"Oh fuck," you cursed quietly.

"'Di ka makakatakas dito, babe," Maliksi jabbed, making you stand up. "Tinatawag ka na."

"Baka may ibang Y/N L/N dito," you resisted, attempting to sit back down. "I can't do this, Mal."

"'Sus, ikaw pa. And it's just a symbolic ceremony!" he encouraged, as if he didn't have any underlying intentions. "I doubt the bouquet will go to you anyway."

Sheesh, what a big fat liar you are, tikbalang prince.

You expressed your dissatisfaction with the situation, "Bwiset, fine. I'll just... dodge it. Or evade it. God, I swear..." You calmed down, confident. "I'm not going to worry. I've never caught the bouquet at my own friends' weddings anyway."

When you were at the dance floor, Maliksi snickered, seeing the bride—his cousin—wink at him. After all, he had thoroughly bribed her earlier.

《《《

"It's about time you settled down with someone, Mal," the bride commented while he slipped her the newest Hermés designer bag filled with a bunch of jewelry (plus some bills) two hours ago, right before the reception began and while you were in the restroom freshening up. "Hehehe, this is why you're my favorite cousin."

"Do we have a deal?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she participates. I'll also try to throw it in her direction."

"Good. Thanks."

"You better invite me to your beach wedding. I can tell how much you love her."

"Not a problem. I'll even make you a sponsor."

The bride stared at her bouquet, already practicing how she was going to throw it, "Tito's going to thank me so much for ensuring that he's going to get grandkids soon, hihi."

》》》

Back to the present, on the other end of the room, Maliksi saw a familiar duo give him a sign that they were ready. Bingo. Time to execute the most important part of his plan.

《《《

"I don't care how you do it," he told the two wind elementals after he bribed the bride. "I've already instructed the bride on what she should do, pero siguraduhin niyo lang talagang lumipad sa kanya ang bouquet."

"Mmhmm," Amie flipped her hair, a hand on her cocked hip. "And what do we get in return, oh great Señorito Armanaz?"

"Sagot ko bar-hopping niyo for one month."

The two girls pretended to think about it, making Maliksi roll his eyes. He had to pull out the big guns, huh?

"Fine. Magbibigay ako ng cash deposit plus pwede niyong gamitin ang black card ko for a one-week shopping spree in Ortigas." There. Bullseye. That's what they liked.

"Deal!" they exclaimed excitedly.

Hannah let a cool gust of wind enter one of the nearby windows, testing out how they're going to do this. "Ano pa bang pinaplano mo for Y/N mamaya?"

Maliksi hummed, "Basta."

》》》

You tried your best to hide within the densest part of the group of women. The bride seemed to have her eyes on you, weirdly enough, and she looked almost feral wanting to throw her flowers into someone's face.

That someone being you. Most likely.

"Target locked on," you saw her mouth move. She positioned herself like she was about to throw a football at someone (ahem, you). Holy shit, was she talking to you? Miss ma'am, it was a bouquet toss not a bouquet throw. The bride seemed to notice this, and once more regained her elegant composure.

"3, 2, 1," the host counted down. "Go!"

Surprisingly, the bouquet flew very high into the air (it was a wonder it didn't get tangled in the ceiling decor), but quite a distance away from you. You grinned, knowing it was too far to even touch you. Squeezing through the crowd of women eagerly awaiting the bouquet, you went to return to your assigned table.

Ah, what a wonderful evening.

Sike!

Something painfully landed right into your face, leaves and flowers getting into your hair and mouth.

... Wait, leaves and flowers?

Before you could comprehend it, the bouquet dropped right into your arms. What kind of ungodly, inhuman force allowed this to even happen?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our lucky girl for the night!" Everyone clapped, with some—those guests you knew—even cheering your name unbelievably loud. The host approached you, a glint in his eye which you couldn't understand. "Miss Y/N, kindly sit here while we await the lucky guy who catches the garter from the groom."

What just happened?

"All single gentlemen, please proceed to the dance floor. Remember, the man who gets the garter gets to slip it onto the lucky lady's leg later!"

Oh, God. You pinched the bridge of your nose. What you'd give to be back at home or to be in that resort in Batangas you'd planned on going to for a solo vacation.

"To make this even more exciting," the host stated, handing you a black blindfold. "Our lucky lady has to keep her eyes closed until her lucky man for the night captures the bride's garter! When the music plays, only then can she uncover her eyes."

See? Humiliating, just as you expected. Still, you wrapped the blindfold around your head (albeit hesitantly). You attempted to guess who it might be, thinking of all the tikbalang friends Maliksi had introduced to you back then whenever he invited you to his clan reunions.

"Groom, are you ready?" the host asked, microphone loud and clear.

"Ready na ready!"

"Single gentlemen, are you ready?!"

"Ready na ready! Awoo, awoo!" they loudly chorused, exactly mimicking Spartans about to engage in battle. You sweatdropped in the seat you were in. This was actually kind of scary. Maybe you felt a bit objectified.

"3, 2, 1, go!"

There was a brief moment of silence, which made you concerned. Ba't ang tahimik? Then, everyone erupted into roars and bravoes much louder than when you caught the bouquet—perhaps even louder by tenfold. What the heck was happening?!

The music played. Very raunchy, spicy, babymaking music. You expected it to be the typical Careless Whisper by George Michael or Pony by Ginuwine (corny songs which you could probably laugh at, at least), but no. Nuh-uh, this was probably worse. The DJ must be pretty young, the song of their choosing being a slowed, bass-boosted, sexier remix of Earned It by the Weeknd.

Ano 'to, bold? Fifty Shades of Grey? The hell was this?

Alright. This was embarrassing. Thank the heavens there were no children at this party. From the music alone and its implications, this was strictly for adults.

You removed your blindfold (that was okay now, right?) as the guests whistled playfully. You peeked one eye open reluctantly, then inwardly groaned. Oh, no. You should've expected it to be him of all people from how loud the reactions were. And all those yells from the crowd were from his family.

Son of a—

"Well, this has proven to be a very interesting arrangement!" the host proclaimed. "Our lucky man for tonight is none other than our great clan leader's heir, Maliksi Armanaz! Congratulations, sir! You get to slip the lacey little garter on Miss Y/N!"

The said very smug tikbalang stood a few feet away from the chair you were sitting on, smirking at you. His hair was no longer in that mesmerizing ponytail—instead, he'd tied it into a more sinfully attractive man-bun, loose strands framing his face and accentuating that sharp, angled jaw of his (say yes and thank you to Manny Jacinto's jawline, besties).

"Let's cheer him on in his new mission, everybody!" the host pushed. Was this that glint in his eye earlier? And was that a one thousand peso bill sticking out of his pocket?

The groomsmen, Mal's cousins and uncles whom you've met before, hollered words of encouragement to the tall man (who was, oddly enough, not one bit fazed). In fact, Maliksi seemed like he was famished as he stared you down.

You swallowed, feeling like you were going to get eaten (heh, say that again). Maliksi had shrugged off his dark suit blazer to the beat of the song (holy fuck, he also unclasped the suspenders attached to his pants right before your eyes—asdfghjkl). Were you prepared for this? No. Will you ever be prepared? No!

"Mr. Armanaz, before you begin," the host interrupted. "We have an additional challenge for you in this mission. Kaya mo ba? It was a request of the newlywed couple."

"What is it?"

"Use your teeth!" the bride and the groom cheerfully shouted, clapping with the other guests. Whatdidtheysaaaaay???

The cocky bastard didn't even hesitate, his smirk at you growing wider; those pearly whites of his on full display. Was it just you or were his canines a little sharper than usual?

"Anything for the newlyweds. Challenge accepted," he dashingly replied, winking at you. You sputtered indignantly. Pisteng yawa. Putangina. Putek. Pakshet. You swore you thought of every swear word in the book at that moment. What did that YouTube parody song about Filipino mythological creatures say again? About the tikbalang? Ah, yes. Half-macho dancer and half-stallion. Maybe the joke was true, especially when you saw what Maliksi did next.

He bit the shred of lace, loosening his necktie (bestie, you good there?), unbuttoning some top buttons, and rolling up the sleeves of his collared white undershirt up to his elbows (consequently showing off his toned, veiny forearms—those lucky bridesmaids behind him nearly fainted). Honestly, you felt like you were about to lose your mind from embarrassment. With how tantalizing your guy best friend was being? Let our response be: San Pedro, kunin mo na ako. Was he doing all this to tease you? To rile you up?

Because damn it all, it was working. In your ten years of knowing Maliksi Armanaz, withstanding all his daily dirty jokes and flirtatious attempts, never had you seen him like this. So... wolfish. Ravenous. Like he was a man that hadn't been fed in years.

He stalked closer towards you, falling to his knees in front of your legs. Your gown had a long slit that extended up to an inch or two below where your left leg began—your best friend was eyeing his target already, knowing where to place the garter. Normally, you would never even wear something as revealing as this gown. It just wasn't your type, but Maliksi was the one who bought this for you for this specific occasion, so you had no choice. It was this or your pantulog he stole you in just hours ago. At first, you were confident in the gown. Now? You felt too... naked.

Somehow, in the heat of it all, you'd muted out the noise of the venue. Maliksi teasingly lifted your foot up, fingertips slyly grazing the thin shoe straps around your left foot—his calculated touch leaving fire in its trail. Once the garter had been successfuly inserted past your high-heeled stilettos, the man kneeling in front of you kept his hands to himself. Despite the fact that now there was absolutely zero skin-to-skin contact between you and this man, your body felt hotter than it ever was before as he expertly slid the lacy bit of cloth up your ankle at an agonizingly slow pace.

Maliksi's warm eyes had turned dark, his pupils blown, a tinge of red in them—of his true beast—while he maintained striking eye contact with you, pulling the garter up your calf with his teeth. Smoothly tugging... tugging... tugging. Tangina, it was like he was undressing you with his eyes alone; like he was telepathically telling you to keep your eyes open.

To keep your eyes on him, where he was knelt inbetween your legs, his hands intentionally locked on his back. Did you ever imagine this? Him between your legs? Maybe. Once or twice. But you never thought about it seriously; Maliksi dated girls left and right in the past.

His lips... his lips were so close... so close to your leg that you could feel the heat of his breath along with the lace. Were you about to die? Perhaps you already did. Maybe you were in heaven. Up... up... up... snap!

Suddenly, he stopped, grinning up at you mischievously and letting the elastic bounce back to the skin of your left knee.

"I'm not going any further, don't worry, babe," he whispered, noting that your eyes had become misty and glazed over. Internally, he grew worried. "That's enough." Did he think it was from discomfort? From you being uncomfortable? Bitch, no. It was the exact opposite. You had never been this turned on in your entire life.

You felt like your soul had left your body at that moment. Did you just have a heart attack? Was your blood pressure okay? Before you or Maliksi could stand, however, someone bellowed from the wedding sponsor tables.

"Higher! That's an order!"

Fucking hell, it was Maliksi's father who shouted. He wasn't in the huge tikbalang form you'd normally meet him in, but he was still very intimidating in his humanoid form, commanding attention and subservience wherever he went. You could tell where Maliksi got it from.

Instantly, the other guests—already half-drunk and wanting the spirit of partying to continue on—joined in.

"Higher! Higher!"

The host cheered, "You heard Señor Armanaz! Higher!"

Maliksi gave you a questioning look. Even if it was his father who spoke up, he still wouldn't do anything you didn't want. Well, you two made it this far; there was no point in getting embarrassed now. You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. You probably couldn't erase the redness on your skin with how much you'd blushed from this night. It was as if the heat was tattooed onto your skin.

"Go on, Mal," you whispered to him, bending your torso down closer to his face, eyes half-lidded from want. "Finish what you started, babe."

With those sultry bedroom eyes he'd never once seen you show him before—plus you turning the tables with that familiar term of endearment, how could he refuse? Like a switch had been flipped inside him, he immediately complied, taking the frilly scrap of stretchy lace between his teeth once more, moving it further up to your thighs until where your high slit ended—centimeters below the warming juncture between your legs.

Your legs felt wobbly... boneless, as you stood up from the chair, the fabric of your gown cascading over where the lace sat securely on your upper left thigh. The party was still going strong even after you two finished the garter wearing tradition.

"'Atta boy! That's my son!" Señor Armanaz blazoned, standing up and raising his glass for a toast. "Cheers to the newlywed couple! May they last forever!"

You guys weren't the newlyweds, but it did sure feel like it. If the clan leader was hyped up, everyone was hyped up. Heck, the groom and the bride didn't mind one bit what had just transpired on their dance floor. In all the chaos, Maliksi took you out of the reception area and somewhere quieter. More private.

You would need to have a serious, urgent talk with your boy best friend.

》》》

You two silently sat on a stone bench in a gazebo somewhere in the reserved venue for the wedding, trying to cool down and get yourselves back together (at this point, you needed ice from that steamy, half-scandalous event you just went through). Here, there was no one else except for the chirping of crickets, the lush trees surrounding the area, and the golden fairy lights strewn all over the roof. Awkwardness was something you'd expected after what just happened, but somehow, you still felt comfort in this man's presence. For the past thirty minutes, both of you just stayed still, lost in your thoughts and reflecting.

"Mal?" you finally spoke up.

"... Hmm?"

"Ano tayo?"

"Whatever you want us to be."

Your fingers instinctively reached out for his, just like they always did when you were anxious. Sensing this, he grasped your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Soothingly. He massaged the skin of your fingers, distracting you from your nervousness. It seemed like both nothing and everything changed between both of you. The gesture was the same, but so different at the same time.

"Mahal mo ako." It was not a question. It was a statement. A truth—one that you'd been too blind to see before. One that you only discovered while you stared into each other's eyes in that party not as best friends. You realized with a jolt in your heart what he really felt for you, and now, what you really felt for him. In those thirty minutes of silence, you knew. You just knew.

"Yes. I do."

"... Just as a best friend?" you probed.

"..."

Finally, you gazed into his eyes, previously so dark and full of hunger. Now? Just reluctant. Vulnerable. Open. Unsure of what to do next.

Seems like you had to be the one to take initiative tonight. Taking out your phone, you opened your music app and pressed play on a certain song. Ikaw at Ako by Johnoy Danao. You removed your heels (which were starting to blister your ankles and toes), then pulled him up to stand.

"Dance with me," you murmured, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist. He was stiff. Tense. What was he to do when the woman he's been pining after for so long let him hold her? All his gallantry and ability to romance disappeared out the window the moment you let him touch you so intimately.

You two weren't even waltzing. Just swaying. Slowly, you leaned your head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"... I love you," Maliksi admitted in the middle of it all, feeling like he was dreaming. Your head on his chest kept him grounded to reality, however. "More than anything in the universe. I fell for you ever since you patched me up when you were nineteen and I was a reckless drag racer who didn't have a purpose in life. 'Nung dinala mo ako pabalik sa Armanaz Tower on the verge of death. Simula noon, ikaw lang."

"I realized that," you smiled, reminiscing the old memory. You were just a broke college student that time, coming back to your dorm from making your group thesis at a classmate's house. Imagine your panic when you found a half-man, half-horse bleeding out by some bushes on the way home at night. Despite your fear and your little money (only enough to feed you for the week), you went out of your way to buy a first-aid kit at the nearest 7/11. It was scary, but you managed to mend the creature's wounds by the side of the road. When he was finally able to speak, turning fully human (which you admit, freaked you out initially), you arduously carried him back to his address—to his father and his clan, even if you had classes the very next morning. Because of your heroic deed of saving their precious heir, the tikbalang clan had become indebted to you: a teenage girl on the verge of a mental academic breakdown, just making her way through the cruel adult world. How old of a memory that was, you thought, yet you still recalled it in perfect detail. "Just a while ago."

"Ah." He swayed you gently.

"Lahat ng ito, plano mo?"

"... Yes," Maliksi fessed up. "Except for this part where we're here dancing in this belvedere. Wala sa plano ko. Gusto ko sanang magconfess doon sa may fountain para sweet, pero..."

You lifted your head off his chest, smiling at him with one brow raised, "You know, between both of us, you're supposed to be the spontaneous one. Planning isn't usually your thing."

"I know. It's a failure, huh?" Maliksi sighed.

"Nah." You shook your head, then suddenly locked lips with him. It was so fast and surprising he didn't even get the chance to return your first kiss. For once, you caught him off guard. You pecked him on the lips again. "It's not a failure."

"Wha—"

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Maliksi. Ten years. We're twenty-nine now, and only tonight do I realize how blind I've been. We've been going around in circles, wasting so much time. Ayoko nang mag-aksaya ng oras," you whispered guiltily against his lips. How could you have been so blind? Andaming nasayang na taon. Making up your mind, you told him, "Yes. Sige, I accept. I'll be your plus one."

The tikbalang was flustered and baffled from the kiss, as well as your revelation, "... But, you already are?"

"No, silly. I meant that I'll be your plus one for life. For as long as you'll have me," you laughed, now processing that you were currently dancing barefoot with your boy best friend and had just kissed him in a wedding you didn't even plan on going to. The universe had a mysterious way of doing things. "Guess I'm the spontaneous one now, huh?"

Maliksi was tongue-tied. "Seryoso ka ba? Is... Is this a marriage proposal?"

"Whatever you want it to be," you echoed his words back to him. "Best friend, plus one, girlfriend, wife—mmpf!"

He kissed you so hard your lips bruised. After an impromptu makeout session which was definitely more in character for Maliksi, you both pulled away, panting heavily in search for air, still desperate for passion. He cupped your cheeks, giving you a sweet, featherlight Eskimo kiss.

"You're missing one more title."

"Hm? What do you mean, Mal?"

"Love of my life." He kissed you again, this time lifting you off your feet and spinning you around (his sneaky right hand was resting on your bum, too, giving it a tight squeeze). You know in the Princess Diaries where the main character's foot just... pops whenever the prince charming kissed her? Yeah, that happened to you on that humid summer night. This was right. You two were meant to be together. Everything was falling into place.

The bungalow you reserved for your Batangas vacation leave ended up being the site of your very eventful honeymoon with the Prince of the Tikbalang (with his libido, it wasn't that difficult to continue where you'd left off in the garter toss; that scrap of lace came off your leg the same way it went on). Actually, nauna pa ang honeymoon sa actual wedding (it was definitely spontaneous). Right after your confession in that alcove, you two went to Maliksi's father to ask for his blessing (which he gladly gave, cackling and saying that it took you long enough) before you guys went driving off to Batangas that night. You and Mal indeed had lots and lots of fun in that resort (I'll let you imagine the rest). More beautiful memories were made from that point on—this time, not just as best friends.

All that and your small, intimate wedding occurred in early April. Just when you thought that it'd be impossible to fulfill Maliksi's life goal of having a baby within the year (nine months of pregnancy meant that the earliest you'd give birth would be January next year), the impossible happened.

Exactly thirty-two weeks later, on New Year's Eve, the Armanaz herd welcomed one prince and two new princesses into the world. Triplets who were instantly adored by everyone in the clan.

Señor Armanaz had never been happier, and so were you and your husband. Your best friend. The love of your life. Your forever plus one.

Maybe being spontaneous wasn't so bad after all.

Taglist: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @methehipster @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie

[angelic-jeonghan1004]

Encouraging Notes || Donggeon

I'm legit the biggest Donggeon simp. I mean I am for all of the to1 boys and I got a few fics in store for them but like,,, Donggeon man he's so cute

Synopsis: Donggeon had a secret admirer, they always leave encouraging notes randomly on his spaces or things.

Pairing: school au! (no specifics on if its high school or college you can decide) Donggeon x Secret admirer reader

Genre: fluff!! Sm fluff!

Warnings: none just either confused donggeon or overbearing fluff

♡๑⌓✿ ◍✧* ♡๑⌓✿ ◍✧*♡๑⌓✿ ◍✧* ♡๑⌓✿ ◍♡๑⌓✿

♡๑⌓✿ ◍✧* ♡๑⌓✿ ◍✧*♡๑⌓✿ ◍✧* ♡๑⌓✿ ◍♡๑⌓✿

Donggeon is probably the sweetest guy on campus anyone could agree. So how couldn't you fall for him? Being in his friend circle as well you got to experience his genuine kindness up front and witness it and you didn't know you even had a crush until you realized anytime he'd say how are you you realized you got butterflies. You didn't know how to put your appreciation into words spoken out loud or if you'd ever confess. But you knew one thing. You wanted to be his secret admirer. He cared for everyone so much but didn't always have much to lay back on. So you thought giving him simple notes on his desk or water bottle of encouragement or appreciate wouldn't be too bad. Welcome to the saga of secret admirer y/n.

Note 1:

Hi Donggeon!! I hope you're having a pleasant day, I know you work hard! Make sure to pace yourself out and know your effort is cared for♡

~your secret admirer

Words could not express the warm feeling Donggeon was feeling. He had a secret admirer? He thought that wasn't a real thing. Just a thing in romcoms. But none the less he appreciated the note that was left on his desk entering the classroom. Wondering who it may be or when they put it there his mind started to wander. Whilst you where wondering if he enjoyed the note or not you sat 3 chairs away from him nervously anticipating what he'd say later to his friends.

AT LUNCH

Sitting outside with Donggeon, Chihoon, Jyou and Jisu you couldn't help but feel a little anxious waiting for Donggeon to say anything if he does.

"Hey y/n why you look so anxious did you see the campus ghost or something?" Jisu said to you with a wide grin, being the closest person you have in your friend group circle you knew you had to play your cards right he could read you like a book.

"No no I'm fine just anxious over the upcoming assessment" You said brushing off Jisu's unimpressed stare. Attention was turned to Donggeon as everyone noticed the smile on his face as he put something in his pocket.

"Wow there fellah you got something? What made you look like you're on cloud 9." Jyou said budding elbows with Donggeon.

"Oh it's nothing-" He tried to say but Jyou lifted an eyebrow up looking at Donggeon making it sure he knew that wasn't the answer he'll take today.

"Okay well someone gave me this cute little note and I just found it sweet okay? I found it endearing someone thought to write me a note" He said with his face becoming brighter and brighter you could tell the note affected him in the best way. Content with the response you've seen you made sure to plan to give him another note.

♡๑⌓✿ ◍✧* ♡๑⌓✿ ◍✧*♡๑⌓✿ ◍✧* ♡๑⌓✿ ◍♡๑⌓✿

A week went by and each day you'd write a mini note sometimes with a snack or drink to give to Donggeon, he'd always talk about the note he'd been given that day to his group of friends and the longer the week went on he realized he really wanted to know who this secret admirer was. He'd set up plans to come in early or ask a friend to wait by the door prior to him getting to his desk and he'd always be so confused how they always knew his motive since he could never catch them. He was both frustrated and bummed out by the situation due to his want of being able to thank the other person, that’s when like a light bulb he got the best idea he’d ever thought of. He decided to go to the campus early that day and went to his desk before anyone got there, he took out a sticky note and wrote on it then placed it on his desk. He decided to leave the classroom and respect his secret admirers privacy, he found some people to hangout with, messed on his phone a bit till it was time to get to class, to give his secret admirer time to put something on his desk and walk to theirs. Now all he hopes is they read his note.

For you on the other hand when you walked to his desk to already see a note there you where shocked, you being nosey quickly went to read it wondering if you somehow already put a note or if he had a new secret admirer. Reading the note you couldn’t hold back the smile across your face.

Hey thank you so much for all the notes and snacks they've made my days better, give me something to look forward to. I really want to know who you are, so if you're comfortable would you be willing to stay back at at the end of class today and wait outside the hall for me? I'd love to meet you

-donggeon

You set the note you had prepared on his desk and took the note he gave to you and went to your seat. He walked into class with a smile on his face seeing his note gone, he may have a chance now.

You had to calm your nerves at the confrontational situation soon to be filling your mind and the work session felt so slow and fast all at the same time. But none the less lecture ended, all you could do was take a deep breath and prepare yourself. You got up from your seat after everyone had left including Donggeon, you knew he was just right outside the door and your stomach began to have butterflies. Walking out if the classroom you saw Donggeon standing there looking nervous and eager. He hadn't even noti r you he was too zoned into the wall trying to think who all he's seen just leave the classroom. You tapped his shoulder which brought him back to reality. You could see the shock cover his face mixed with a feeling you couldn't quite catch yet causing you panic.

"y/n? Is it you?" He asked with genuine curiosity.

"yes,, I hope you enjoyed the notes." You said with an awkward laugh. He smiled and put his hand on you wrist contemplating holding your hand.

"so does this mean you have feelings for me or was this pure friend appreciate friend?" He said nervously, you quickly copied.

"I do have feelings for you and it's okay if you don't reciprocate, I just wanted to show signs of appreciation subtly since you deserve it." You smiled happy with your response. No matter how he feels you hope you atleast could stay friends and be content with the happiness you gave him from the small letters.

"well if that's the case, can I ask you out? We can go to the cafe near campus."

"I'd love that"

[fangirlandiknowit101]

Fanfic Writer asks:

8, 16, 18 :)

8: Do you take inspiration from real life? If so, how do you incorporate it into your fics?

I do! I mean, not so often in a "this happened to me" sort of way, but I think I put a lot of my experiences and thoughts into my fics heh. But it's often stuff I just think about, like if I've seen posts online about a topic or I read something in a book. Sometimes if I read meta about characters I can keep that in mind when I write. I was reading and thinking a lot about asexuality so I wrote an asexual sasuke for example. That's one fic where I actually specifically thought "I want to write about an asexual character getting into a relationship" and thought of the plot later. If the fic is about being in love with your best friend... haha... most of the time the fics themselves aren't inspired by real life, I just sprinkle in some stuff here and there from my life experience. When it comes to describing rooms and places i do tend to think about places i've seen or visited to make it easier for myself. But mostly I try to think about the characters and not myself when I write haha and not make it like my own life at all, but I'm sure if you met me in real life you'd notice stuff... ah well. In real life I'm shit at talking about feelings and being romantic and stuff so I guess I sometimes think "what would I do in this situation?" And make the characters not do that lmao.

16: do you have a method for getting characters to sound/feel in character?

Yeah I kinda memorize speech patterns and behaviors. I do this in real life too heh it's automatic (i keep talking like my boss when i talk with clients send help what if someone notices). Then when I write I just play out the scene in my head like I'm watching a play, and the characters act it out within the confines of their characterization. That probably doesn't make any sense but it's how I do it. Like it can depend on the setting in the story ofc but to make an example. Let's say naruto and sasuke are having an argument, and they don't know each other that well. What sort of people are they when they argue? Sasuke is not the type to break down and cry usually, unless the argument is super serious with someone he loves in which case he might get emotional. It's more likely he'll close up and lash out rather than talk about his feelings with someone he recently met, and he probably won't consider naruto's view or feelings. And with that sort of "restraint" on his character and the setting they're in, there are only so many ways the argument might play out on his side. He won't suddenly sit down and talk it through like a therapy session and have a good cry about it. He's not level-headed, he just acts aloof. It's a simplified example, but take your character and put them in 360 degrees 3D mode and examine them from all angles, like really spend way too much time thinking about them, and various scenarios they might be put in and how they react, and compare that to similar situations in canon, though accounting for any differences in setting. If sasuke never makes a dick joke in canon, he probably wouldn't in your fic either (those are for sai lol) if you worry about not being ooc. But if x and y and z happens in your fic, maybe he would make a dick joke, and you have to figure out how to write that in a way that's still true to his character. Maybe it's sarcastic. Maybe it's mocking. (Maybe it's just super funny in which case go ahead). The important thing is that, if you write an au and you wonder if it's in character, pretend it happens in canon instead and consider how that feels. Like when artists flip the canvas you know? The flip side is the canon version of the character. Canon won't account for every scenario and it depends on how fleshed out the character is in canon, but there really is no shortcut other than obsessing a little over them. Also great to read other people's version of the character and see how that feels compared to canon. Not because other people are always right but if there's not a single fic where sasuke makes a dick joke, you might think once or twice on how likely it is that he would make one.

Honestly I don't really think about it when I write, my brain just goes bzzzz if something feels ooc lol and I frown about it until I figure out what's wrong.

Already answered nr 18. Thanks for asking!! 💕

[funtarou]

Wishes || Kuroo x Reader

The Second Part of "Plans" || Kuroo x Reader" fic

Second part is here and I hope it's decent or maybe satisfying enough. Like wise, I'm rusty and still trying to regain my writing zone. Also I haven't throughly slowly proof-read this so-- Also also ya know, like wise, how I depict Kuroo has no guarantee that it's the actual Canon Kuroo, ya know. But I'm tryna get a bit close-

Story Warning: Angst, Comfort/hurt?, Human emotions are weird okay. There's one Sexual action but not described specifically. Still just incase, 13 year old below minors do not interact.

Writing Warning: Bad English grammar and possible spelling mistakes and wrong use of words. English is not my first language and I'm still tryna get back in writing groove.

Read part 1 here

Kuroo Tetsurou never expect such a dirty play from life. He though all of the dark side in life for him has already ran out the moment his mom stormed out of their house when he was a kid. He though it was already enough the moment he heard his own older sister said she doesn't want anything to do with him. He though it was satisfying enough for life to see him bid farewell to his friends back at his old neightbourhood. Maybe he's still naive to think that he won't be affected by any games life would play him after the things he need to went through in his early childhood. Even after it already forced him to think more maturely in a young age, and developed a sort of social anxiety in those younger days, there just seems to be more and more things life had planned for him.

But after witnessing a near-death experience, Your near death experience, he wish life would let him off the Hook. Because it was just too much.

It has been 96 hours since you were hit by the bastard with the car who drives away the next second. And despite already being treated, you still haven't wake up. The doctor said you'll be fine despite the injuries, but might experience headaches when waking up. But on the matter of when, it was still uncertain. For now it's best to let you rest, let your brain process the shock from the hit.

96 hours, and Kuroo still stays by your side. Only leaving on occasion to get some supplies he needs to stay at your hospital room. He hasn't attend his classes for the past four days yet, but has someone he's on good-terms with (and has the same classes as him) to give him notes and stuff that was taught at those classes. Kenma occasionally stopped by to give him food and check up on your condition too. A few of your friends and family also came for the same reason for the past four days.

Even though his heart ache and yearns for you to open your eyes, to know for sure that you'll be okay, he always tries to maintained a cold head. Despite the lingering fear that stays at the back of his head and the image of your frail body being hit and thrown to the side of the road, he put up a strong front. to himself and to the people around him. He has been focusing on his studies despite not present in classes, still maintaining a proper diet and sleep schedule. Acting normal, and trying to think everything is fine now that he knew you're treated and is going to be okay. He cant just go in deep depresso espresso mode now while you're unconcious. Because he knew you'd be upset if you wake up and found out he hasn't been taking care of himself. Another thing he always keep in mind is, that he cant let this bump in life ruined his plans. Not to mention he's nearing graduation if he Ace his essays and IP. He can get a job soon, a well-paid one if he works hard enough. Soon enough he can buy you the things you always dream of getting ever since highschool. He can already imagined the beaming in your eyes when he give it to you, one day.

Yeah. This is just a bump in life. Everyone Will eventually experience it at Times. Nothing is perfect, but that doesn't mean he cant stop trying to reach his future plans with you.

As Kuroo was typing on his laptop, sitting beside your bed with one hand on top of your hand, he sensed a sudden movement. His eyes quickly shot up from the device to your laying figure. He stays quiet for a few seconds, that is before he can feel the sudden broken movements of your fingers in his once again. He stand up, putting the laptop aside before putting another hand on your hand that had moved. Eyes slightly wide in anticipation for your own to open.

"... (Y/n)?"

He whispered, not wanting to startle you. The movement on your hand in his owns slowly became stronger, until it managed to lightly close in to a half fist and open again. Your eyelids trembles lightly, making an effort to open. But when it does, your orbs slowly land on him. He cant help himself, as he feels his vision getting blurry with the unintentional tears gathering up.

"Hey love... How are you feeling...?"

He softly and slowly questions, letting you process your conditions as he notices your eyes roaming around as if trying to understand where you are. And then he sees your eyes roaming at his figure, at your conjoined hands. And for some reason, the way your eyes looked at him, the way it moved as if analyzing him and the way your hand slightly shifted in his soft grip, gave him a bad feeling under the relief.

And it seems like Kuroo's gut feeling has always been spot on. For the words you weakly utter next Made his heart drop.

"... W-Who... Who are you...?"

And he wish you were pranking him at that moment.

2 years since the incident.

The day when you woke up, Kuroo called the doctors to check up on you. After going through some tests, the doctor concluded that the impact and shock from the accident Made you lost a big part of your memories. Your family was called the same day to received the information.

Ever since that day, Kuroo has been trying to rush your memories back. He's taking it slow, not wanting to pressure you and the recovery of your memories. He's been really supportive and optimis on making you remember your family, your friends, your life style, hobbies, and him. Gladly you still remember and can manage most of the things you learned at your major, and you returned back to campus a few days after you woke up. Now you've successfully graduated with an average but good scores. Yet due to not remembering your passion, you're not quiet sure what career you want to take, up until now. You've only been doing part-time jobs and online shops. Everything still feels unfamiliar to your head, yet strangely familiar in your chest.

After getting out of the hospital, You agreed on still staying with Kuroo at your shared apartment. Kuroo also persuaded your family that it might make you remember faster on your latest life style. And in a way, he has a point. Most of the stuffs you supposely enjoy and most of the things you use in your routines is in the apartment. The things back at your family house are the old things you didn't use and left when you moved out for college. In the end you spend those two years living in the same roof with him, someone who people told you is your lover of some years now.

For the past 2 years also, Kuroo tried giving you your space. He restrict himself from kissing you everytime he sees you. He tries to hold back on smushing you againts his chest. He lets you choose where you wanted to sleep, either it be the guest room or your shared bedroom. If you're not comfortable with him hugging you, like how you two used to do everyday, he'll make a distance from your side of the bed or sleep on another place. Through those Times, be tries to done the deeds on his own, not with anyone else, without you knowing too. It's been hard for him to locked up all of his swelling feelings and affections for you, yet he doesn't want to overwhelmed you. Not until you remember him, or maybe, developed the same compassion feelings for him as your new self.

But it seems like you've caughed on his hidden desperation for you. And if there's a side of you that stays, it's your need to return the favor he has been giving you. Afterall, he's the most supportive person you've met ever since you woke up. The one who let you stay at the apartment despite not remembering him, the one that pays for all your need with his new found job, the one that's with you through the twisted road for you to remember the people you love and cherished. And so that night, you confronted him.

"Please let me help, Kuroo."

Despite the sting in his heart when hearing you call him with his last name, he cant hold himself back. Afterall, saying no to you feels so heavy for him to do.

You felt familiar under his touch, under his warmth. And whatever he did to your body, you always response accordingly. He knew every parts of your body, every beauty and insecurities. He knew what to do, because before the incident it's not like you two were playing holy-boy holy-girl in your relationship.

There's this momenterally serotonin he felt when being connected with you once again. Seeing your raw emotions of pleasure and your body doing the talking. It feels like everything was back like how it was. Everything was normal, back when you would know every part of him as much as he does, back when you utter the words of love as much as he does. But, he described the feeling as "momenterally" for a reason.

You two spend the night, cuddled againts each other, or could also be said him pulling you close out of habbit. But after experiencing one of the world's pleasure with you again, he really just need to be slapped with a sour something.

"Kuroo... I don't think I could keep pretending..."

Because deep in your heart, Kuroo Tetsurou is still a stranger in your foggy head. To your old self, your old memories, he would be the man of your dreams, the man you wish would spend forever with you. But now everything is different. You tried to find that passion within you for him, it's not like it's that hard because he was an attractive man. Despite all that, you come to realized it feels wrong. You knew, you've been knowing of how he loves you with all his beings and existence, while you only stays and manifested your love for him through a facade and a form of "Pity" for his desperate heart. It fills your chest with aching guilt, feeling as if you're using him at his more vulnurable mental and emotional state.

One could say you utter your next words on panic and quite irrantional thinking. Yet it felt right at the back of your head, to let him break free from the past. To let yourself break free. Because your little heart cant keep this game much longer.

Yet, He wish you would for a little longer.

4 years passed by.

The whispering noises of the audiences are audible through the whole building. Some excited whispers, some casual talks. They're all waiting for you, not to mention the spiky haired JVA member.

His head hang low, looking down at the ground. Hands remains restless, patting his neat suit here and there and occasionally being put in his pant's socket. Beside him was Kenma, putting a hand behind his back and soothing his best friend.

Minutes passed by, and finally the slow music started playing, silently announcing to the people in the building of your soon arrival. The flower girl appeared from the door first, your nephew dressed In beautiful frilly white dress with flowers decorating. Her Tiny hands throwing the pastel mix colored petals as she skipped her way down the aisle. Some of your relatives coo'ed at her cute attics while throwing the flowers. And then when your form is visible In the room, all eyes are on you. Dolled up beautifully in your long white wedding attire, a thin veil lightly covering your face. You walked down the aisle, a family member holding one of your arm, accompanying you to your soon to be husband.

If someone were to ask what Kuroo Tetsurou though Angels looked like, he would describe this scene in front of him.

The scene was beautiful and breath-taking to Kuroo's eyes. Even Kenma can hear his tall friend's breath hitching for a second when his eyes land on you. Your face moved up, eyes locking at Kuroo's cat like ones as if on instinct. You two starred for a few seconds, before a small smile softly tugged at the edge of your glossed lips. But after that smile, you turned your head and tore your gaze away from his.

A drop of tear unconciously traveled down his face. Followed by another from his other eye, and then followed by a few more soon after. He's silently crying, holding on a sob as his hands formed in a fist shakingly. Kenma of cource notices this, as he glanced to his tall friend beside him. But he was unsure of what to do himself that can comfort his best friend, and so he continued rubbing (hopefully) comforting circles behind the taller male's back.

Afterall, Kenma doesn't think he's in a much better emotional state than Kuroo at this moment either. Where Kuroo cried on his realization of fully loosing you to another, Kenma hold tears of his mix emotions. Kenma's happy for you and your soon to be husband, but he cant help but sympathize with Kuroo. Afterall he's the only guy that has seen and hear you two go through all the hard and happy Times. It's always you three since grade school. Even though you and Kuroo formed a romantic relationship Along the way, you two never left Kenma behind and Kenma never stop supporting you two. And at this moment, Kenma is unsure how to feel with the whole ordeal. He wanted his best friend back together like before, but he doesn't want to force you in to it, not when you forgot all those happy and sad Times you three experienced together.

And as you reached the end of the aisle, a hand awaited to take yours in. A hand that was not Kuroo's, but someone whom he atleast knew at one point in life. Osamu Miya. The man you met and developed deep feelings for, after you left him back in Tokyo.

Kuroo thinks you're being subconciously quiet mercifull for him. If you were to marry someone you and him knew for years, it would be more painful for him to try and mask his sadness with a smiling face in false supportive-ness. And as he sat there in silent tears, he watch and listens to you ex-changing vows with the Kansai man you've chosen to plan your new future with.

He wish it was him again. He wish he has that privilages to be a part of your future again.

Afterall he already planned everything beforehand.

As Osamu slipped the gold ring through your delicate finger, Kuroo's mind went back to a few days a go. Where he had found a neatly wrapped letter in his mailbox. He wished he didn't come when you had sent him a wedding invitation. But years of not seeing you nor ex-changing much conversation through text, could add to the factor on how desperate he is to remain in contact with you. Even after years, He's not used to being so far away like this yet.

His cat like eyes bore on to the piece of decorated paper.

How he wish it was his name written there beside yours.

5 years has passed by since the wedding.

After the ceremony Kuroo only greeted a few familiar faces and then silently leave with Kenma. For some reason Kuroo doesn't have it in him to face you, nor say his congratulations for you. He doesn't feel like tugging a smile for you at all that day. He hoped you didn't dechiper his emotionless face as something bad.

Now he's sitting in quietly, looking at the stars above him. Behind him can be seen a wooden cabin he had rent for a small nature trip, by himself. He thinks maybe he needs it, to atleast distract himself from the though of you. Honestly the first thing that dragged him to nature and disconnect with technology, is when he sees a picture being posted by Osamu Miya and shared by Atsumu on his social account. A picture of you and your 3 year old daughter with Osamu, smiling happily as it seems the three of you are eating at Onigiri Miya.

But for some reason, having his time within the fresh air of the mountains and therapeutic noises of the forest surrounding him, only Made his thoughs Drifts further on you. He though that your love is truly for him. He though that maybe he does deserve "forever". Maybe he shouldn't expect so much back then. There was never been a perfect love story from the beginning and he should've seen it coming. Even if all the odds around him seems to lead him on thinking "yes you two are meant together", maybe it's just another one of life's trial. He kept thinking like that through the 5 years.

Crouching down, Kuroo grabbed a small gasoline can that was placed beside his leg. He walked further to the wild, the backyard of the cabin, nearing a cliff where in the morning the breath-taking view of the waterfall and field can be seen. From his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out a paper file. When opening the file, it can be seen there are several papers within it and one quiet thick handmake-shift book.

He took a seat on the dirt, not minding some dust getting on his already dirty pants from the previous hike he had. One by one, his eyes wander off through the pieces of paper in the file, reading his small writings on it before dropping it to the ground in front of him. Until all the paper has been read lightly and dropped on the ground, he moved to the book. He only ever took the moment to fully and slowly read the words on the first date of the book. The date where he finally mustered the courage to confess his long-time feelings for you, and the date where he found out you also felt the same. Felt.

He schemed through the rest of the page, rather carelessly. Because he knew if he ever took the time to read each and every single plans he had for you and him, he would spend the rest of the night in tears. Heck maybe he couldn't even sleep seeing how many he wrote in the past.

Finally he reached the last page with his writings on it. His saving plans to buy you a ring. His written plan of how he was going to pull one of the best proposal action, only for you. Seems like all of that is for nothing now.

Kuroo closed the book, dropping it down with the other papers on the dirty ground. Standing up, he stretched his limbs lightly before moving to grab and open the gasoline can. Pouring all over the papers and book, not leaving any surfaces untouched, until all the papers are nicely soaked. After he emptied the gasoline can, he pulled a box of matches out from his pant's pocket.

He lights one up and throw it at the pile of papers. It went out before it could touch the wet surface, which Made Kuroo clicked his tongue in annoyence. He lights up another one, but this one went out in his hand when a sudden gush of wind hit his face. He groans in silent frustration.

'Now nature wants to hold me back?'

Was his first though.

He tries one more time. Lighting up a match, but this time dragging it down and guiding it to touch the surface of the papers. This time it finally lights up the flames on the paper. He sight contently, standing back up to see how the fire slowly covered and burns every pieces of papers and the book. Soon enough, the small fire turned in to a camp fire with the amount of fuels given to it.

The mountain around this place is quiet, especially at this time of the night. The only thing prominently audiable to the spiky haired male at the moment are the sound of the fire eating the papers.

And just like that his future plans are all ruined by the flames. The flames in front of him right now, and the flames of lingering love he still has for you. Just this week he figured he should destroy the pieces of papers that still Remind him of the old Times with you, so that he could move forward. He's in his late twenties already, he needs to get over with things and start looking up for his own future. No matter how lonely it seems like without you by his side.

He wish in another life, he could have the privilages to plan a future with you once again.

And maybe if that time does happen, he wish that everything wasn't just mere plans and wishes.

If he were to be given another chance, in another time or another universe,

He'll make sure to make every wish and plans he had in this life, a reality.

A solid reality of you and him.

But for this life, it seems like it was never meant to be.

- End

A/N: I hope I delivered well. Maybe- Actually I wish I could deliver my ideas better

Like wise, cover edit by me but the image belongs to the Haikyuu manga